Tweet...tweet... 26th April 2020 ... MCO extended twice to now 12th May

It will be two months of lockdown. It's like an extended semester break where you gleefully envisioned lots of fun and sleep but ended with work and more term works. It's like having to do the referrals during the long break.

For me it was, I had to do my works to keep the biz afloat, reaching out to the potentials with smiles and do you want to buy gestures and then we will deliver after the lockdown and then the calls went dead......Hello, I will do my rendition of Lionel Ritchie which probably accounted for the social distancing.

Someone asked me what do you besides calling? How do you handle your other free time? He was polite not to say wank or not to wank....

I should have replied, my balls in a lockdown. No more 'hand down' the task or we quit.

Well, I have taken into the realization that I am still married to a wife over 30 yrs, household to feed, and still hold a bedroom to sleep and work in, with no one knocking when they want to come in. It's not like I have to shout 'I am feeding your mum'.... Which tells you my personal liaison with my wife is nil at the scoreline.

And because I have my laptop ( gave away the HP and brought a DELL two weeks ago ), I could surf the net, and work on my mails and do my writing which is probably the only other thing keeping me sane nowadays. For this blog, I have been penning none stopping in my other free time ( got to watch my back in case my wife reading this...). I have done one other tale; APES and now into my other novel of Arthur at 90K words and Arthur is still not King. I will stop at 100K words to rest and move onto another short tale I have in mind.

Why Arthur again? I don't know but heck this one will be different from the previous version. This one has all the elements of supernatural to history and adventure, plus some sex ( hey, I still enjoyed those sections. ). I had to rejuvenate because the tale ends at 100K on Book Two ( Book One was about 53K, and Book Two will be about the same. I know what will be in Book Three and Four but I just needed a break from it. ) I am dreaming of Morgause and Merlin.....  Threesome, just crossed my mind now.

Okay, I admit it was like having the front seat at the play but heck I was ....should I say doing the directing. I do say this version of Arthur will spring you out of your pants...

I have to admit doing novel lengthy writes can be exhausting. I may do a few short ones like Joni's series. It's fun and catchy. Sexy and out of this world.

That's it for another day in the lockdown.

Cheers

Deep Sea Chapter 10

10.

The Surface

Lady Jan glared at her opponent across the straw mat. She was dressed in the dark blue loose clothing suitable for the dojo training in her mansion at the estate. It was a loose tunic held by the dark sash at the waist and the balloon over the knee-length pants above her bare feet. Her hands were held out with the knuckles bent inside at the fingers to resemble the leopard paws. It was a deadly form of the Far Eastern arts for the Leopard Claws art was only taught to Masters and men but hardly a lady had ever been known to practice it. Her opponent was the short bowmen with the blond and Slavic look. He was dressed in the similar dark garb with his pants tucked into the knee-high laced boots. His blond hair was covered with the red bandanna. His name was Kosovan. He does not have a heavy chain on his neck with the dragon emblem. It was tattooed into his chest.

On the side of the dojo mat there stood Bian Feng who had returned. He was to report to her.

“Master Feng, please feel free to join us.” Lady Jan spoke out without averting her stare. “Master Kosovan here is an expert in the System; an ancient art of the northern Eastern countries.”

The System Art does not have any distinctive techniques but it covered the overall body and mind with the spirit. The master of the fighting art had to develop all of these before they could master the fighting techniques of punches and kicks.  That includes some form of acrobatic moves.

Master Bian Feng stepped forth and then bowed to the lady. He then held both his hand in front of him to flex the muscles on them. The knuckle cracked was loud before the master took the fighting stance with both legs bent and the right leg moved back to give him the kicking power. The Leopard Style was one of the five styles perfected by the Shaolin monks centuries ago. Its difference was the way the fist was created. It was the bending of the fingers at the first joint instead of the knuckle. You then clasp your thumb to the fingers. The fist could be used in jabs, chops, or rake on the opponent's flesh. You can also do a backhand slap with it.

Lady Jian smiled and then moved her lefts apart slightly before swinging the left leg right back. She was an opponent of the ancient art of Karate. The lady was part Japanese from her mother's side and had spent most of her childhood there learning the katas’. She learned her basic there from the Grand Masters before moving to the main continent where she soon perfected her skills with many other opponents.

“Hai!” Lady Jan kicked her way into the threesome fight. Her front kick was at waist level with the toes as the impact point. She had placed her second toe to support the main toe to give it more power instead of using the bottom sole of the foot. She was kicking at Kosovan who had stepped back to avoid the kick and raised his left arm to block it. He was to strike at her with this right jab into the lower waist when he saw the leopard rake from the left of his face.

“Kia!” Bian Feng had lent his attack to the ladies’ but she was not impressed by it. Lady Jan turned her body to do a reverse kick on him. He saw it coming and blocked it. Bian Feng went into a half-crouch to swing his left arm at the lady’s right thigh but she had stepped away. It was Kosovan rushed in with his overhead punch to the Bian Feng’s outlaid arm. He made contact but before he could follow through, the other had lowered his arm to channel the striking force for the counter-attack with a fist thrust towards the opponent. It was a Chinese Tai Chi moves to counter the force with a softer rebound so that it will reduce its impact force. Kosovan saw his move countered and then turned to do around sidekick. His kick was blocked by Lady Jan who then used her right fist to attack back.

Kosovan changed his target to focus only on the lady. He moved in with a series of front kicks while approaching Lady Jan and Bian Feng had moved in from the rear which was the blind spot to Lady Jan. He swung both his fist palm upwards in the leopard grasp at the lady’s waist. Lady Jan saw the move and moved her arms to block it. She arched her body back while she raised her right leg to kick at Kosovan. It was as a dancer move but her kick was deadly. Kosovan reeled back to avoid the kick and had to do a back somersault to regain his balance.

Bian Feng saw his move countered had then stepped back to do a leopard fist at the Lady but she had countered it with a body block with her arm. She then countered with the deadly thumb ‘boshi ken’ or thumb fist. It was fist with the thumb bend at hand. She delivered it with her arm outstretched and at the last moment she twists the wrist to deliver the thumb blow onto the underside of Bian Feng’s forearm.

The the trio split away from each other’s reach and accessed their next moves.

“Master Bian Feng, there is no shame in defeat. We have all been defeated before.” Lady Jan replied. She then pulled apart her tunic to reveal the metal exo-skeleton on her chest to her shoulders and trailed to her forearms.

“This is my mark of defeat. I had my spine broken once but it’s now reinforced with this. It gives me the extra strength to my kicks and punches. The metal trailed beneath my flesh there.” Lady Jan smiled “Kosovan held his own badge of defeat. His spine was like mine.”   

Kosovan rushed in with a sliding kick at Bian Feng legs while Lady Jan did a roundhouse right kick at the surprised master’s face. Her toe kick broke his left cheek when Kosovan kicked at his left thigh. He bent over in pain when Kosovan deliver the next blow with another kick at the left waist of the crouching master. It was then Lady Jab moved in with her right-hand chop at the back of the neck. She broke his neck bone and then in a series of chops she went down trailing on the log spine.

“Master Bian Feng, you are one of us now.” Lady Jan told him when the other fell to the ground writhing in pain. “You will be given a new body frame by my healers. We learned from the sea. To swim together we need to be one with each other. We will be the new masters of the Sea.”

The Depth

Lord Henry was upset when he was refused aboard the ship which will take him to his island. He was stopped by the Port Authorities that he was not to leave the area. He had disembarked a distance from the port where the train stopped. All the other passengers have disembarked then.

“Those are the orders of the Lord Chamberlain Office. We cannot defy it.” The officer told his Lordship. Lord Henry stood there alone on the train station and looked at the assembled guards holding his progress. His ship was in the port then. He saw then the guards on him were not the normal units.

There were three of the newly designed exoskeleton machine frames with the operator inside the unit. The unit looked like a human but it was seven feet in height with the extended limbs. The human operator stands itself inside the unit and moved the unit with levers within reach of the hands to work as an extension of its body. Once the operator was in the unit, it will firstly activate the unit and a chest armor plate will move to cover the human operator from harm. On the limbs, secured greaves will cover the exposed flesh. The exo-skeleton units were also armed with rotary mini cannons on both their hands with the ammo belt linked to the backpack. Below the backpack was an electrical charge bank. A fully charged unit can last up to four hours before its return for recharging.  

Lord Henry did not ask about his crews. He knew his ship crews were kept under guard at the Officer’s Office.

“Lord Henry, I am also under order to take you into protective custody. There are some threats to your well- being.” The Officer told him. “These officers will take you there.”

“Hold your suspenders on, Officer. I need to pee again.” Lord Henry stepped away to the side of the pier. There he unzipped his pants. “It was a harrowing train ride with Jones at the steamer engine. He was trained by his Uncle how to ride the train.”

Within the hearing distance, the Sergeant Major stepped up to the Corporal to question him on his ‘tutored’ lessons.

“Aye I did learn from my Uncle. It was great when you seated on his lap and with his jostling, your side by side.” Jones replied. “Sadly we rode the short journey. He won’t take me for the long rides. Sadly, he died when the train he was on derailed. It did however set the record for the City Line for fastest time from London to Manchester.”

“Won’t the jostling on the legs be considered as a sexual intrusion?” Stay cut in. “I once knifed the man who tried that.”

Jones looked towards her and smiled.

“Only to a lady. You have not ridden a real horse yet, huh? I doubt so.” Jones had led the others back to the train when his Lordship excused himself to pee. It was the agreed signal for him to act. He climbed up the train compartment and turned onto the steamer gauge. “Sergeant Major, would you be kind to shut the boiler hatch. I don’t want to have boils on my ride but let me ride to my boils. Pardon the pun, ma’am.”

Stacy was to reach for her dagger when the Captain stopped her. He then looked at the boiler gauges and held out his right hand to the Sergeant Major who was shoveling in coals.

“You better stop feeding her coals. Her gauge tells us she is boiling over.”

“Those are gauges? I thought they were for the time of the day.” Jones remarked back. “Guess I better get going now. We are taking her for a ride.”

Thankfully the rail men build sturdy tracks and the train ran on iron wheels. It left more than a spark too much on the lowering of the speed. They made forward with the train puffing like the dragon.

“For Pete’s sake, next time let me drive.” The Sergeant Major was annoyed at the recklessness of the Corporal. “You are damaging the engines with the brakes holding it back.”

Meanwhile the Station Master was nearby looking at the watch and then at them. He approached the train.

“Four in the morning? Who are you driving Pete at this hour?  Where is the driver?” The Station Master motioned to the train. The word ‘Pete the Dragon’ was on the steamer front.

“Pete? Oh, that’s his name. I think the driver in the coach. He’s taking a pee there.” Lord Henry had mounted the train. He then added in. “Against regulations, I say.”

“I say we move on, Jones.” With that command, Jones released the brakes and the train roared off. The three exoskeletons were at the side of the track but they were no match for the speeding train.

“Here is my peed.” Lord Henry tossed out the water bottle he saw at the engine.

Soon they were at the Pier and they realized the new hazard to the ship. It was anchored from the dock. The Captain came up with a brilliant idea to use a sailboat to row over and board it on the blindside. Lord Henry was for it but he wanted to rescue his crew.

“I need the crew.” The plan was put into motion. He was to distract the Officer and the guards at the Pier Authority Office. They stopped him when he reached there. There were three more exoskeletons there with the Officer.

“My Lord, you must step follow …”  The Officer call for caution was interrupted by the swinging twenty feet length iron beam that was swung by the hoisting crane. It was Jones as expected who manned it. He had manned the overhead hoist and then hooked up the iron beam. He sat there waiting for the Lordship to signal him. He swung the beam at the three exoskeletons before the human operators could react. The swinging beam impacted on the three like a moving train. They were scattered to the rear on their back.

Meanwhile the Sergeant Major stepped into the Pier Authority Office where the ten crew members of Lord Henry’s ship were seated there in the holding cell. The single guard there was groggy from the late hours of duty looked up at the imposing figure standing there. The Sergeant Major has not on his uniform but his confidence and stance spoke well of his authority.

“By George, what is your name? Do you know the punishment for sleeping on sentry duty?” The Sergeant Major hollered out in his infamous vocal for the regiment. The guard hastily stood up and raised his right hand to salute.

“I,” The guard lowered his arm when he realized he was attending to a civilian and not the frigging NCO but his late awareness was shuttered by the left hook punch that took out his argument. The Sergeant Major then grabbed the set of keys on the table and tossed it to the ship crews.

“Get your asses onto the ship by the double. His Lordship needs the ship sailing now.” The crews rushed out but the Captain of the ship stopped to ask the Sergeant Major.

“Won’t it is a crime to break out of the holding cell?” The Captain asked. The sodden officer was still in his PJ’s and was rewarded with a shove back into the cell.

“It’s for you. Your cowardice to surrender your ship does not warrant your rescue.” The Sergeant Major locked the cell door and walked off.

On the pier, the exo-skeleton on its back could not get back up again. The Officer alerted other guards who rushed to the scene but were deterred by the swinging beam. Then the roar of the machine-gun fire from the aft of the dock decked the guards. It was Stacy who was firing at them from a docked ship bow with the machine gun.

“Get your asses towards the ship.” Stacy called out.

Meanwhile the Captain sailed out to the Lordship’s ship and had boarded it from the blind side. He climbed by the side ladder there and then made his way to the Bridge. The Captain had fired up the boilers and then opened up the valves while Stacy did the fire cover on the dockside.

Stacy saw the incoming ship crews. She sheep herded the guards to the side while the crews made their way to the ship with the small boats at the dock. She saw Jones had abandoned his post and ran for the boat. Soon they were on with his Lordship’s ship is nearer to the dock. The crews boarded and soon they were adding in firepower. The Sergeant Major had then escorted his Lordship onto the ship. He saw Jones in the last boat and it was slow for he was rowing himself.

“Jones!” The Sergeant Major called out. “Move your butt or being grounded.”

It was then seen Jones jumped from the boat into the sea.   

“Bloody show nutcase.” The Sergeant Major sighed. “Thankfully I am from the Highlands. We aren’t that crazy.”

Deep Sea Chapter 9

9.

The Surface

Lady Jan’s instruction was clear; they were to stop the train and terminate the threat. It was a task assigned to the group of assassins.

Leader Bian Feng flexed the stiffness on his body after having spent the last hour in the cramped crew quarters. The quarter could house no more than eight sailors but the Far Eastern warriors were polite to squeeze thirteen of them. The squat muscled warrior was dressed in his usual dark tunic and straight-cut pants with the wooden sandals. A red sash was tied around his waist with a three-pronged hook on the end. On his back was the butterfly ‘dao’ which was equivalent to the length of his forearms. It was sheathed inside the special cloth holding holster. In his hands was the long handle wooden ‘bo’. He had one a white bandanna over his forehead with the imprint of the fierce Dragon. The dragon emblem was also on the heavy silver chain on his neck.

Bian Feng was the leader of the Tiger Warriors of the High Heavenly Gods Clan. He commands a pack of twelve warriors. They were in wait for some time. Their mission was to stay hidden.  Lady Jan had told him the prey will be led to the trap.

Unlike the leader, the warriors do not carry the ‘bo’ but held the bow with the quiver of arrows.

“The metal carriage is before us. We will lower ourselves towards the roof by using the rope.” Bian Feng briefed his warriors. “We will not hold any prisoners.”

The twelve warriors stood there expressionless at their leader for they cared for nothing except to perform their task. The leader gave the order and the warriors rushed to the dirigible open section where the rope ladders were hanging from. The drop was about two hundred feet. The assassins went down like monkeys on the branches. Once they reached the carriage top they crouched ahead and waited for everyone was in position before they moved out in single formation towards the engines. Their objective was to remove the engineers and disable the engines. The warriors moved with ease despite the moving train. They have trained on the tree logs floating on the river for such tasks.

 Three warriors climbed onto the coal wagon to tackle the engineers, while the others went for the first of the seven coaches. The three warriors stood on the heap of coals at the wagon behind the train engine. They fired their arrows at the men working the engine. The train engineer and his aide went down with the arrows embedded in the back of their neck. The warrior trio climbed down from the coal and then took over the train controls.

Kwan Lin was the leader there and took action to stop the train. He pulled at the lever to release the build-up steam in the boiler. He then pulled on the brakes to gradually slow the train. Once the steam was fully released, it will stop turning the turbine to move the train, and with the brake applied the train will slow down. The warrior was not an expert at it but nevertheless, he stopped the train although it was hasty and caused a series of sudden slowed down speed before it stopped.

“Stupid sow!” (It will be damnable to translate it …ha-ha. I may lose my appetite for pork chops.). The young warrior cursed at the engine then asked the other two to stand guard on the rails.

Inside the coach, the young warrior leader named Cheng Tou had his arrow notched on the bow. The first coach targeted then was the dining one. It held eight tables with the fine cutleries laid out. Of the eight tables, four were occupied. The nearest table sat the young couple. The man stood up to voice his protest on being intruded but when he saw the arrow, he reached for his young wife. The warrior shot at the man in the back of the neck with the arrow reaching past it into the ladies’ face. He soon had his second arrow shot at the other occupants. The other warriors have leapfrogged and were using their hands to do the kill. Their methods were swift with the deadly chops or punches to crack the air passages bones at the throat. They hopped from one seat to the next with their deadly moves. The waiter put up a fight with his basic punches learned from the street gangs.

“Come at me, you yellow curs.” The waiter landed a left hook on the warrior who was in front of him. The warrior was caught off guard by the swift punch. The waiter had his fists up but then Cheng Tou had stepped up to challenge the waiter. The later threw a right jab and was to follow with the swinging left hook but he never got to complete it.

Cheng Tou moved in inside with the jab with the left hand to chop at the right arm of the waiter before he moved in with the right chop on the side of the neck. The waiter screamed out but Cheng Tou had turned his body to deliver the series of double punches at the chest. The punches were swift and short in the flow of the arms but each blow broke or ruptured some internal organs. The waiter soon slumped down to his knees.

Lau Ding, the youngest was ever keen to prove himself rushed to the next coach. He rushed in through after he opened the door. He was taken aback by the sight of the long barrel rifle aimed at him. He had seen such weapons on the dirigible. They are deadly and caused instant death.

“Die, you yellow-bellied cur.” The Sergeant Major cursed when he fired the rifle. The stunned warrior was blown back from the impact. The Sergeant Major had then reloaded the rifle while Jones rushed forth with his Whitworth rifle cocked for firing.

“Stay easy, Sergeant Major.” His Lordship told the other. “We are fighting a war here. There is nothing personal.”

“Aye my Lord.” The Sergeant Major replied. “It won’t be.”

The Sergeant Major had lost his only son to these killers when he was posted to the Far Eastern Post some years back. They recovered the body but not the head.  Jones meanwhile had fired on the others in the next coach.

Jones had then rushed back to close the coach door. He was breathing hard.

“They are bloody more in numbers than us.” Jones spoke out in a hoarse voice. Across in the other coach, the Leader Bian Feng had joined the others and took command of his warriors to attack.

“You two go up on the rooftop. You three move to the door. The rest prepare to sneak up on the side.” By then the train had come to a full stop. The warriors jumped to their assignment. The two which went up the top took the open window in a leap and then was seen climbing up to the top. They did it with the ease of the monkey’s movements in the jungle. The three warriors kicked open the door and took their firing stance. The other four had also used the windows as the entries. There they took position to fire at others in the coach. One passenger went down while the other three were shot in the back at the coach. It was followed by the three others who were in the doorway.

“I’ll be darned!’ The Sergeant Major let off the shot from the window but he missed the bowmen. There were three assassins who have taken cover behind the bushes there. In the carriage, His Lordship opened the door for Jones to fire. He brought down one warrior before his Lordship slammed the door shut.

The Depth

During the battle, it was Captain Arthur and Stacy who moved to the rear and out of the coach on the right side. He climbed down and saw the four warriors running half crouched there on the other side. He took aim with the Webley and fired off three shots in succession. Two warriors went down but the other two had jumped for cover.

“Damn!” Captain Arthur cursed out. He was to rush over when he was set upon by the warriors from the train steamer. The arrow landed near his feet before one of the warriors jumped kick him from the top of the coach. The kick landed on his left shoulder and both of them rolled on the ground. The Captain fell on the ground stunned and was then punched by the young warrior.

“Kia!” The warrior screamed out when he delivered the punch at the Captain. The other took the blow face on but he fell from out. He had his share of bar brawls and a few punches won’t dent his face. When the second blow aimed at chopping his neck, the Captain had his left forearm to block it while he slammed his open palm with the spread-out knuckles like that of the tiger paws. His blow was a fierce grab on the warrior's face and then pulled the warrior off his feet. He then tossed the warrior across the ground in anger as if he was tossing a crate of sardines.

Meanwhile another warrior jumped down from the coach. He was notching the second arrow when Stacy rushed at him. She had taken out her dagger and tossed it at the warrior. The warrior went down with the dagger in the heart. Stacy picked up the bow and arrow. She had not seen one before in real.

“Aye that’s a bow. I had used that before I was in the Far East. A good weapon for the silent kill.” The Captain took the bow from Stacy and flexed the taut bowstring. It was then Bian Feng had commanded the other warriors to shoot at the duo who were inspecting the bow. The arrows missed them when the Captain on his instinct pushed Stacy to the rear. They then jumped for cover behind the carriage.

“They can’t fire at us unless they popped their head out.” The Captain told the lady. Two of the warriors had then jumped clear from the coach and rolled on the open ground.

“Jumping Jupes!’ The Captain called out and ran along with the coach. He has a bow but no arrow. Both the Sergeant Major and Jones gave their cover fire for him.

That left three more warriors including Bian Feng alive. The leader realized the odds were against them and called for a retreat. Lord Henry was relieved of that and looked at the darkening skies.

“I think we will be spending the night here. Anyone brought marshmallows for the campfire?”

‘Not necessary, my Lord. I could drive the train. My uncle Freddy taught me once. He rode the lines from …. Gee, I have forgotten the towns. Insignificant then and shall be now.” Jones offered his assistance and soon they were moving on the tracks with the engines operated by Jones towards the port.

They made it by night.

Lone Ranger Chapter 24

24.

The scouting party of the Occult Section set off earlier to their first target. It consisted of Father Lamiere, Mr. Smith, Lance, and Tonto with an escort of ten more gunmen escorts. They were without the personal guards of Father Lamiere. They rode off to the destination where they will hamper the reinforcements from the south. Lady Quita had taken off to the north with her pack. She had to ride alone without Tonto, but she knew that he was not to replace her son. He was with his Avenging Devil.

“How far are we to ride?” Lance asked the priest on the ride into the dusk. The reply was over the hill and the place was there. The group rode on and then dismounted to walk to the edge. When they were near it, Tonto halted the group. He then sneaked off on his own. The Indian Native half crouched in his run with his acquired skill of the wolf. His eyes turned bloodshot and his nose smelt the scent of the foe. He caught the scent of two and they were high on the hill. He saw one leaning at the tall tree. It was not a bloodsucker but a mercenary. He smelled the chewed cheroot from the mouth and his spats on the ground. The sentry held a good position with a wide view of the slope then darkened by the dusk lights. Tonto will not move just yet and sought the second sentry that he knew was near. He chanced on the second one that was hidden behind the bushes. That one was well concealed with the animal's droppings to musk his scent. He must be a hunter in the profession.

With the instinct of his spirits, he jumped aside when the arrow struck the ground he had crouched on. He had his tomahawk and with that, he tossed it. His aim was not his but guided by the spirit of Tonto the First. The tomahawk struck in the mouth and stifled the cries of warning but the leaning sentry had sensed danger. He stood up to look for his accomplices. He saw the one at the bush who was also alert. Their years of fighting have sharpened their instinct and both of them seek the unknown Native Indian. He was claimed to be a good scout and yet he was not seen. The sentry stepped forth with his rifle held firm. He signaled the one in the bush that he was making his walk. He took the walk with careful strides while his eyes scanned the slopes. He was told to be wary of any attacking parties but he had heard of the captured of the Lone Ranger.

Unknown to the sentry, Tonto had moved on to the rear with the movement of the wolf and had reached the hidden hunter sentry in the bush. He was within feet of the hunter sentry and felt for his weapons. The guns will alert the others and his tomahawk lain in the face of one other. He flexed his fingers and taut at it to feel the strength. He then ran and leaped into the bush into the hunter sentry. His move was silent and his left knee pushed against the spine of the hunter sentry while his fingers on both hands clawed into the throat and reached in deep. It pulled at the flesh there and removed it from the throat. The blood from the severed veins and flesh spurted out like the water in the spring and yet no voice was heard. 

It did not escape the attention of the last sentry who had the suspicion of the moving bushes. He proceeded to move there but he forgot there was more than one enemy. He did not see the hands that grabbed his shoulders and cracked it with the pull behind assisted by the right knee. He cried out with a whimper for the attacker had crushed his shoulder blades into the throat to quell the shout. The hunter fell to the ground catching his last breaths.

“Was Lance be that savage?” Father Lamiere asked of the other known as Mr. Smith.

“No, he was more gentle and merciful. Maybe his imprisonment had changed him. He once woke up screaming of his inklings.” Mr. Smith replied. “I do not know the brother but this one was known to me.”

“Say no more for we are to move.” Father Lamiere saw the signal to move on from the Native Indian. The group moved onto the hilltop and rejoined the other two. The sight that greeted them was a fortress of trains inlaid by the dozen over tracks. It was indeed a train interchange for the train to continue their journey to the other corners of the land. They counted ten steam rollers laying idle on the tracks but their drawn wagons and carriages were swarmed with activities. Porters were seen unloading or loading the supplies and guns. There were columns of the mercenaries taking their marches there or towards the nearby campsites. That train interchange was not only of the trains but an army fort was built next to it as well as the town that thrives on the traffic from the train.

“How do we fare against such numbers?” Tonto asked. “It’s like attacking the Dover’s Cliff with a sailboat.”

“Dover’s Cliff? Where is that?” Mr. Smith asked back.

“Don’t strain your mind on that. I am also thinking of the odds we are up against.” Lance cut in and then motioned them to the far side of the valley. There was the river dam to hold the water for the train boilers. The steam rollers needed much water for its trip and the source had to be stored. It was not a high wall but it was high at twenty feet. The river dam was made of mud-walled reinforced by the timbers. There were the three water gates across the dam that lengthen over a hundred feet.

“That dam will be our ally. Bring it down and we can flood the tracks and the town. See those water gates are open to ease the pressure.” Lance added in. “I have seen such incidents in my travels and it will take days to restore it.”

“Set part of the explosives there.” Father Lamiere gave the instruction. Six of the escorts rode off on the hill towards the river. The other eight made their way down the hill towards the interchange. Lance and Tonto took to the town while the others went for the trains. It was easy to mingle in for there were activities everywhere. Mr. Smith saw then the wagons with the guns destined for the war zone. The carriages were unloading the weary mercenaries from the south. They were ragtag of the army but they were hardened soldiers. He was even surprised to see among them the Native Indians who had joined the war.

For gold coins or for promises of their land returned to them.

Father Lamiere split his group and then he convened to the makeshift church there by the edge of the town. He stepped into the derelict house of the faith and found its inside was well kept although it lacked the full complement of benches. The wooden cross still stood over the hall with its splendor that graced the worshippers there. He found three elderly couples there seated on the benches. They held the book of faith.

“Sit with me, my faithful.” Father Lamiere sat on the bench next to the nearest couple.

“That they will, Father Lamiere.” The voice came from behind the cross. It was Hawkins who stood there. “Your faith betrayed you. You cannot resist your preaching here and yet we have no priest for some time now since they have all perished by my hands. Your dressing of the habit betrayed your presence and was followed. Your men are being followed right now.”

Father Lamiere stood up and stared at the approaching demon. The others who were seated there turned out not to be elderly couples but the blood drinkers in disguise. They surrounded the priest and drew upon their fangs.

“Demon, how dare you come into this house?” Lamiere cried out in anger.

“Demon? Am I the demon when I was once one with you? Was my banishment here rank me differently?” Hawkins voiced out in question. “How could you judged me when you have not been there?”

“Speak no more, demon. Your desire to conquer the land had been known since the dawn of time.” Father Lamiere replied. “I will see that you are stopped now. And forever.”

“A pledge on me when you should have done on those who knelt before you. Mankind had been conquering others since the dawn of time. Their desire to be the supreme beings even over the massive creatures was well known. Where were you then? And where were your mercies when war was declared in the name of the faith? Where was your faith when the brothers killed each other in the fields?”

“I have returned to fulfill my master’s wishes. The union of all under his leadership and warring will choose to exist.” Hawkins did a bow towards the priest. “Your selfish intervention will not be tolerated.”

Lone Ranger Chapter 23

23.

It was dusk when they reached a small settlement. They took shelter there for the night. Lance had stepped out of the comfort of the cantina to clear his head. The wine there was potent yet sweet. He looked at the surrounding. They had ridden in that late afternoon to the run-down structure that resembled a hacienda. The walls that once fortified the place were rubbles in many places but its main arch still stands true as its entrance. There were three mud-walled huts beside the cantina. The well stood solitary in the yard and the whitewashed structure with the cross that bears its shadow over the structure. The double wooden doors were partially open and on its step sat the young parishioner with the stick to draw on the ground.

Lance turned back to the warm cantina and took his walk passed the empty tables. He approached the bar counter and placed his cup. The one tending behind the counter was a man with a wider girth covered by the loose tunic that falls to his knees. He had on the loose pants with the straw sandals. It was a simple garb for the bartender but his real task was more appealing.

“Gringo, the wine when over consumed will drive you to the Devil’s side.” The bartender advised him.

“Yes, it will get me closer to the Devil and with that, I will kill him then,” Lance replied with contempt. “If only the wine you poured me had done so but it only gave me a full bladder.”

“It’s a necessity of the body to clean the impurities from the body. We are alike the wine. We traversed the land to clean the impurities.” The bartender replied. “The burial patch behind the church is our pool of impurities.”

“Well said, Manuela.” Mr. Smith beamed his approval from the far corner of the counter with the raising of his cup with the wine. “God bless you.”

“I wondered why Pinkerton considered that he will be the one that could stop this demon.” Manuela glared at Lance. “The first one had died when he was more powerful.”

Lance was to reply when he heard the warning. It was the sentry the far wall. Manuela motioned to Lance to be seated at the table by the window. Mr. Smith joined him there. The place was Mr. Smith's destination and he told Lance that this place may help him in the quest and till then he was only kept in the dark. Since he arrived, he was fed and given many passages of the Book to keep his boredom away.

The rider was alone and approached the cantina. The rider stepped in and then removed the coat before looking at Lance.

“Your wait is over. I am Father Darius or to those at DC, here I am Father Marcus Lamiere. I am the leader of the Occult Section here.” The man who spoke was dressed in the habit of the faith and carried a heavy pouch. He was followed in by two others who were more like his guards. They were dressed in dark clothes and their holsters hung low on the gun belt. Lance knew those well; paid gunfighters.

“We have a little time. The demon had called on his armies to assemble at the land. Thousands will join there and then they will begin their march to DC.” Father Lamiere explained in his hurried manner. He led them to the rear of the cantina and approached the fireplace. It was moved by the servant there and revealed the entrance to the lower level.

“Wait here, my sons.” Father Lamiere told his guards. “The two of you followed me.”

Father Lamiere then turned to look at Lance.

“They are brothers in blood and in faith. We lived in dangerous times and when I cannot kill, they may.” Father Lamiere introduced the brothers. “They are named Remus and Romulus.”

Lance and Mr. Smith took to the flight of stairs and then arrived at the lower level. The walls on the way down were dark and damp but it was lighted well by the torches that were on the walls. It was on the way down when Lance saw there were writings on the walls. He leaned over to read it and saw it was words from the scriptures. They were words of protection. The walk was short and then they chanced on the sentry there. He was a humpback but the double-barrel gun he held was hard to ignore.

“Glad to have you back, Father Lamiere.”

“And I am glad to see you, my son.” Father Lamiere patted the other on the forehead. He then proceeded past the sentry and then the scene before they changed. The place was huge and wide as if it covered the whole hacienda and beyond. The place was lighted by the torches placed high above the walls and the supporting timbers. It lighted up the place which showed the group of people performing different tasks. There were crates and in them were guns and more gunpowder. There were those who were loading the bullets with the silver dust that was smelted to become bullet casings in the nearby pots.

“The men are preparing for the war. Only silver will kill those demons.” Father Lamiere explained while they took on the path passed those working assemblies. “You need to see this for the lambs will soon be the lions.”

It was then Lance saw the deadly cannons. They were lined there as if for inspection. That was not all he saw. He stared in disbelief at the battlewagon. It was a wagon to be pulled by two horses but the unique part of the wagon was its sides were covered with the iron sheet with gaps in between. Lance counted two gaps opened like a cross design and the gun barrels protrude from it.

“We have the Gatling there, two per side and the gunners are protected.” Father Lamiere continued on.  “At the rear are the riflemen. We have ten of these wagons to bring to battle.”

Lance laid his left hand on the iron sheet and tried to imagine the damage it will do. He had seen the ferocity of the gun on the wave of attacking warriors. The Red Coats have used a similar formation with their line of rifles but that was a dozen when he was only one to stop a dozen.

Father Lamiere interrupted his thoughts when they approached the large desk there. On it was a small box.

“I cannot have you go to battle without a gun. Your guns are missing but I held the ones once held by the Lone Ranger. He was your brother.” Father Lamiere handed over the box. “The Lone Ranger guns were not the same as the others. It was made with care by me. I scribbled on it the words of the Archangel Michael.”

“Revelation 12.7; And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon fought and his angels.” Father Lamiere spoke the words of Archangel Michael. “Your brother had perished and you will take his place but to win, you need his guns.”

Lance opened the box and removed the gun belt. It was indeed Lambert’s belt. He had seen the belt on Lambert before. It was given by their father. He saw the bullets on the belt. He counted twenty of them and smiled. They were marked by Lambert’s.

“Make each one count.” Lance recalled his brother’s words. 

“Before we move into battle I want you to meet the allied of ours.” Father Lamiere motioned to Lance. The allies of the Occult Section stood at the far end of the table. There were five of them with one lady standing in the center. The lady dressed in the off-shoulder white blouse and colorful wide skirt. She was in her mid-forties with the few strands of gray hair.

“The ones you may know as wanderers of the land. I knew here as Lady Quita of the Grey Wolves.”  Tonto was with them,

Lone Ranger Chapter 22

22.

Lance woke up to a dark chamber but he was not shackled. He felt empty inside him. He rubbed his body and felt the differences. His body was not the same. It was raw and painful. He pulled his shirt and saw the removal of his inklings. All of it was gone.

His protection spells.

The chamber door opened. It was not by the walls but on the ceiling.

Lance was in a pit.

The parcel was tossed down. He reached for it and saw it contained food and medicine. So his captors may be ruthless but also merciful. He took the food and medicine. Then he rested on his side.

The Lone Ranger was defeated.

Lance was surprised that the pit door was opened once more. He was fed and yet they come. It must be to torture then. He pulled himself up and looked up. He saw then the body falling and landing lifeless. It was one of his captors. He looked up and saw the rope ladder was lowered. Without hesitation, Lance took to his escape from the pit. He climbed over the edge and saw the person assisting him.

“Mr. Smith?”

“In the flesh.” The other replied and handed over the gun belt. “It’s not silver but it kills. We need to go before your escape is made known.”

“Where am I?” Lance asked.

“In prison.” Mr. Smith replied The prison was in an abandoned mine with a number of tunnels dug. Lance counted five of such shafts with a depth of thirty feet. He crouched there and looked to the surrounding. He was in the far yard surrounded by the high wall and within it was the derelict structures. He counted three buildings and the large barn with the corral. Part of the walls behind the structures had collapsed but the sentries were seen there. There was one other structure further apart and it was guarded. Mr. Smith tugged at Lance’s sleeves to run towards the wall. The run was short and soon they were at the hole which could give them freedom.

“Follow me.” Mr. Smith led the way. They crawled through and ran into the trees and then up the hill down the valley. They reached the horses and rode off.

“How far was I from the train?” Lance asked when they had rested by the stream. Mr. Smith had built a campfire while Lance eased his aches seated on the branch there. He was handed a gun with the holster. He checked the bullets. He had six in the gun and ten on the belt. The place was well hidden by the trees and it was vantage view of the path on any approaching riders. During their ride, they have been checking their rear.

“Far but not too far. We are a day’s ride.” Mr. Smith replied. “I followed the train and enquired on the ride. They told me of the stops and then the one they saw you get carried away. I followed and here I am.”

Lance stood up to look at the horses.

“How many days have I lost of their trail?”

“Five days.” Mr. Smith told him. “I have contacted the Pinkerton. The train did not go to DC. They went north and then west.”

“West? Why there?” Lance asked. “I thought the plan was to take DC. The Sergeant said so.”

“It may be but the train headed west towards the new frontier.” Mr. Smith continued on. “We have news of an Army there. Mercenaries and regulars there were unhappy with their President. The Mexicans are with them too with promises of their land. All of them are well paid by gold coins.”

“What does the President do with the new threat?” Lance asked. 

“The President is more concerned now on the re-election of his post. He had sent the Army but they have proven useless except to patrol the borders.” Mr. Smith stroked the woods he had placed in the fireplace. “Forget them. You need to rest. We will travel tomorrow. Be thankful I found you.”

“How did you find me?” Lance looked to the elder man.

“I did not find you but the Pinkerton did. I had lost hope with the destruction of the town. I took to help the wounded and buried the dead. It was then a Pinkerton Agent approached me. He was unlike any of us but he was one.” Mr. Smith pulled a smile on his face. “I had given up and there was this elderly Spaniard who resumed my faith in the Pinkerton.”

“They were one of the secret sections. They were the Occult Hunters. They were led by one named Father Tibur and he resides at DC. He even gives the sermon at the church there.” Mr. Smith left out a chuckle. The Spaniard had lent me strength and direction to find you.”

“I am thankful for your renewed hope. I hope I could only do what you may bid of me.” Lance sighed. He felt the loss of his inklings. They were with him for the betterment of his role and then he felt naked without it. Lance could not sleep that night for he was concerned about his inklings. He was unprotected by the spells and without his silver guns. He tossed and then woke up. He then sat up and looked at the stream. It was calming there with the water flow and so he made his way there. He stepped into the stream until his knees were covered. He lowered himself into the water and felt the cold water soothed his aches. He felt the pores on his flesh touched then by the water which had seeped through his clothes. The water washed the wounds there and enriched the muscles. He lay back until he was on his back. He submerged his head into the water and closed his eyes. He saw nothing but the darkness behind the eyelids. He held his breath and left his mind to wander. It was like when he was on the plains among the lions and the cheetahs. He saw their strength and speed when they hunt, and when they sleep, their rest was alert to other predators.

Then Lance saw the elders once more. The circle was still there. The elders were lined at the circle border. None spoke to him and yet he approached them. He picked the nearest one but there was no response. He looked to the face and saw there was none. Their facial was blank without the eyes and mouth nor nose. He looked away and looked into the circle. He saw there the image of himself when he was first there. He saw the naked form of his own body when the inklings were applied to him. He saw the inklings move when applied. He then saw the inkling seeped into his flesh before it resurfaced and disappeared inside. It did that several times and finally stopped to remain on the skin.

Lance then found himself breathless. He pushed himself up to draw his breath. He found a hand extended to him which he held to pull up.

“Lance, are you mad?” It was Mr. Smith who had dragged him up. “I came to release myself and find you there. And you are wet. You will die with the cold on your skin.”

Lance shook his head and then made his way to the far banks. He stepped up and then he raised his arms.

“I am a hunter. I am the Lone Ranger.” Lance shouted to the dark skies. “I am not without a weapon. I am the weapon.”

Lance stripped off his shirt. The pale skins of his gleamed in the moonlight with the wounds streaking across like red lave streams. He flexed his chest and then the wounds went pale while the original inklings soon appeared on the flesh as if it was never was taken off. He placed his palms on his face and cried out.

“The spells lived inside me.” Around his eyes were the dark shades that resembled the face mask as if he was under the shadows.