Gaming with Strangers

[DusterBoy]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

And I thought I was just being paranoid. Turns out they really are out to get me. Or at least my gun.

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

13

 

Bloodstone felt the shield holding him in the store. It seemed like solid work as far as he could tell. He needed another way out.

 

The bone animals crashed into the wall further down from where he stood. The dragon rider patted his pet on the head. It wasn't going to get through the wall.

 

"This is a fine pickle." The necromancer pushed his old fedora back.

 

"I'm getting out of here." Bloodstone went to the bathroom. He had found it in an earlier search of the place. "Good luck trying to get out of here through that."

 

"What do you mean?" The bone wielder followed at a distance.

 

"I can go anywhere I want." Bloodstone reached for the drain. He poured down the sink in a crystal blood stream. The sound of his voice echoed back. "Good luck."

 

Bloodstone followed the drain pipe through the system until it opened to the sewer. He reconstituted himself when he could lift himself up out of a storm drain. He shucked the armor so he could move under a disguise of normality.

 

He needed to find the target so he could find out what was going on. That masked sphinx had stolen the lead from him.

 

Bloodstone straightened his street clothes as he thought of his next move. At least he was rid of the animal show.

 

At least he had learned something. The cowboy had enough value that a team of magicians had been sent. He was behind most of the others. And he still didn't know what was going on.

 

He needed to concentrate on the immediate problem of finding the other magician and dealing with him. Once he had done that, he could concentrate on the Duster Boy.

 

Bloodstone spotted a dead man wandering the street in front of him. He looked around. More of the walking corpses were on the move. They seemed to be heading toward the lake.

 

Maybe they knew something he didn't.

 

Bloodstone looked at the tallest building he could see. Someone up there could see some of the city. He might have seen the sphinx flying away. He might be telling his puppets to follow the trail.

 

Bloodstone decided he could get ahead of the horde and find the Duster Boy first. All he needed was a car.

 

Bloodstone went down the street, smiling at a Suburban he found on the curb. He opened the lock with a twist of his hand. He got behind the wheel and started the engine. The SUV rolled smoothly under his touch.

 

He saw some of the dead men pile into a car. That took part of his satisfaction away.

 

Bloodstone still felt a bit of excitement. He had to get there before the dead men but he could still find the man and get him back. He could already see he was a better driver than the zombies.

 

The road led to the lake. Bloodstone looked for some way to get to where the sphinx had taken the Duster Boy. He got out of the Suburban and headed into the trees. He had a way to track his quarry down.

 

He just had to have blood to home in on.

 

Bloodstone donned his blood crystal again as he moved deeper into the woods. He wanted some kind of protection from the things that were bumping into the dark. He flexed his gauntleted hands as he moved.

 

Bloodstone paused when he heard a voice talking ahead. He recognized it as the voice of the masked man that had pinned him in with the dragon rider. He crept forward to listen to what was going on.

 

"You must form a containment vessel." The voice belonged to the summoner from the bird. "Then you must call out the charge from his body into this containment vessel. That will give you enough to change the world."

 

"Is that you, Mad George?" The cowboy sounded amused. "It's been a while since I saw you last. Is this all some revenge from the last time?"

 

"Why should I trust you?" The masked man seemed perturbed. "You promised an artifact of great power. Why should I do anything you want?"

 

Bloodstone moved forward. He didn't like the way the stakes had changed, but he did know an energy/life stealing spell when he heard it. He wondered how much power was involved in this transfer.

 

"You must form a containment vessel." The voice restated its command mechanically. "Then you must call out the charge from his body into this containment vessel. That will give you enough to change the world."

 

Bloodstone took a look. The Duster Boy hung on a floating cross. The masked man stood on one side of the clearing. The bird rested on a tree branch. The crystal wearer readied daggers to take care of his rival.

 

Then he could take the other's life without any problem.

 

Something moved in the trees with Bloodstone. He had an idea it was the dead men finally catching up with him. He needed to be ready to do something about them if he wanted to claim the prize first.

 

Bloodstone knew he had to interfere before the other magician could activate the transfer.

 

Even if the artifact was a lie, the transfer could feed a magician well if it was big enough.

 

"Same old Mad George." The Duster Boy laughed. "I'm surprised that you are still trying this same old scheme."

 

"Explain." The masked man raised his hands. Power looped around his fingers.

 

He was still taking something for his trouble.

 

"I'm under a curse because Mad George tried to create a circle to harness natural energy. I interfered and was blown apart for a second. I don't know what happened to George." The Duster Boy laughed again. "I hope he hurt over that."

 

"You seem in good health for being caught in an explosion." The Egyptoid raised his hands. "It looks like that's about to change."

[input.jack]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

Wow....this is INCREDIBLE! Keep it up!

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

14

Mojo Bones directed his troops to follow the flying man. He was behind, but not out of the game yet. He didn't know why these others had shown their faces on the field, but he was going to win the prize.

 

No popinjays need to apply to treasure hunting.

 

Mojo felt something on the roof with him. He opened his eyes. The energy resembled what he used to invest movement in his puppets.

 

An alligator the size of a horse charged where Mojo sat. He noted the life battery in one of the eyes as he rolled from the ripping maw. One bite could tear him in half.

 

"You weren't as asleep as I thought." A gray man in brown stepped into view as the alligator turned at the rampart surrounding the roof. "Still I can't have you messing with this hunt I have been called on."

 

Mojo frowned at his two attackers. Neither one had any life force he could steal. They had discovered him without any servants around. He pulled out his knife from its sheath. He wouldn't give up.

 

"I have an invitation." Mojo put himself equal distance from the alligator and its master. "I don't see why you are coming after me. I don't have the target."

 

"Eliminating the competition." Bubba took off his jacket. He didn't want to get blood on it. "Once you're gone, there'll be one less trying to stop me."

 

"I'm still going to get the prize." Mojo flicked his knife back and forth. "There are three others and one of them has the Duster Boy. Is fighting me worth both of us losing the artifact?"

 

"Maybe since I don't know what the prize really is." Bubba started forward, rolling up his shirt sleeves. He didn't want to add more tears to the ones he had already patched up. "That won't matter to you after you're gone."

 

Mojo decided that if he could stab the man, the gator would be without direction. He didn't understand why he couldn't sense their life energy. That could only happen if they were both dead.

 

The necromancer brought the knife across, slicing at the scarecrow. The blade glowed as he focused on draining the life from his enemy. Something had to be in there for the scarecrow to be moving on his own.

 

Bubba caught the arm behind the knife. He had to brace as the other man bore down on him with the point. The swamp dweller head butted his enemy in the face. The puppet master recoiled from the blow, slackening the pressure.

 

Sally Mae charged in from the side. Her snout opened and slammed shut on Mojo's leg. She pulled back, yanking on the limb. Mojo fell to the ground.

 

"Rip him up, Sally Mae." Bubba stepped back. This could be messy when she got going.

 

Mojo slashed desperately with his dagger. The point dug into the artificial eye. The jewel fell out as he tugged his blade back. The alligator stopped moving as the fake orb rolled on the roof gravel.

 

"Sally Mae?" Bubba looked aghast at the frozen reptile. "What has he done to you?"

 

"You have caused me enough trouble." Mojo pried at the jaws, ignoring the pain and blood coursing from his leg. "Once you are gone, I can take care of the others."

 

"I don't think so." Bubba's gray face froze in rage.

 

Mojo looked up as the scarecrow came forward. He slashed out with his knife, aiming for Bubba's leg. The swamp dweller stepped on the hand holding the knife. He bore down, driving the appendage into the roof. The hand popped open. The blade skittered across the gravel.

 

Bubba started kicking. Mojo held up his arms to block the heavy boot aimed at his head. He wasn't entirely successful. Bones snapped from the blows. The necromancer was hurled across the roof after the third kick freed him from the alligator's jaws.

 

"Can you fly?" Bubba picked up the dead eye from the roof as he walked to where his enemy panted from the shock. He picked the man up by the neck.

 

"Not really." Mojo Bones gestured with a twisted hand. His knife appeared in it, straightening the fingers. He swung the point into the side of the scarecrow, aiming for the heart. "Can you bleed?"

 

Bubba froze in shock. Pain coursed through his side. Darkness descended, drawing him down to his grave again. He could see what waited on the other side. He flung the necromancer off the roof as he fought to keep his grip on the living world.

 

Bubba sank to the gravel, clawing at the knife. He pulled it free and flung it away. He tried to catch his breath. It had been a long time since he had been hurt like that.

 

Bubba knew the other man was out of the contest. Even if he survived falling five floors, he needed time to heal up. That meant he couldn't get in Bubba's way while he was trying to do that.

 

Bubba stood when he no longer remembered what it felt like to die. He went over to Sally Mae and put her eye back in the socket. She blinked, twitching her tail.

 

"You got your butt kicked." Bubba started for the roof access. "I can't believe it. It's disappointing to me."

 

The alligator jogged after him, growling in her throat.

 

"That scrawny little guy kicked your butt." Bubba pulled on his coat. "You're getting soft. I'll have to get the Tony Little exercise tapes out now. Good going."

 

Sally Mae honked her disapproval as she waited for him to open the roof door.

 

"I threw him off the roof." Bubba wrenched the door out of the frame and stepped inside. He held the door for his familiar. Then he pulled it back in the frame before they started downstairs. "I don't know how long that will hold him since he's a magician and all."

 

Sally Mae rushed down the concrete steps. Her tail twitched as she used it as a rudder to navigate the turns. She only stopped when she reached the bottom of the stairwell and the door that needed hands to open. She looked up at Bubba descending at a slower pace, favoring his side.

 

"I'm coming." Bubba took a breath before descending the last steps to the door. "If we're lucky, he's still hurt, and we can finish him off. Then we can get the others."

 

Sally Mae seemed to nod in understanding.

 

Bubba opened the door for her. The alligator charged out, heading for the front door. He followed a little slower. That knife had drained his usual energy. They stepped out on the street. Bubba turned to look around and orient himself. Then he walked to where he had tossed Mojo Bones off the roof.

 

The necromancer had left a crushed car roof behind and some drops of what could have been blood.

 

Bubba kept walking.

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

Wow....this is INCREDIBLE! Keep it up!

 

 

I hope you like the other two stories also.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

15

 

 

Bone Daddy examined his prison from the back of his creation. His fellow captive had evidently poured himself down the drain. That meant there was a hole in the shield. He had to find it if he wanted to catch up.

 

He reached out to his smaller creations. He took their malleable bodies and shaped them to a new purpose. Then he ordered them to dig. A hole appeared in the floor. Swift work opened a tunnel big enough for the dragon to walk through without bending its head.

 

Bone Daddy smiled. He hadn't thought of a way out as fast as his competition, but the dragon's speed would allow him to overtake the others with no problem. He could even use his other minions to help him with that once he was out in the street again.

 

Bone Daddy nodded when a crack appeared in the top of the tunnel. His skeleton mole men widened the opening until the dragon could hop out on its eight legs. It looked around for either of the other mages. It roared its anger when it saw no one but civilians wandering the streets.

 

Some of them had phones in their hands to call for Emergency Services.

 

"Sniff the air." Bone Daddy patted his pet on the skull. "Get the scent."

 

The dragon ran air through its wide septum. It turned and headed toward the distant lake. It ran as swift as a car. Its eight paws pounded on the asphalt as it tracked down the source of the smell wafting to its nostrils, tail waving like a flag.

 

Bone Daddy called his lesser minions and worked on them as he rode. The gallop wasn't the most pleasant thing in the world, but he had to be prepared for another confrontation with his rival necromancers.

 

He knew blood and death when he saw it.

 

Bone Daddy fashioned a bird out of some of the bones. He infused the dead thing with enough energy to fly on its own. He sent it ahead to find out where exactly he had to go if he wanted to claim the prize.

 

He took the remainder and fashioned two small lions. It was the best he could with what he had. His dragon would have to do most of the fighting with the lions acting as a surprise element. That might be enough if he arrived at the site unnoticed.

 

Whatever was going, that sphinx had enough of a headstart to push the other two out of the equation unless they hurried.

 

Bone Daddy wanted to pay his summoner back for dragging him into such a convoluted mess. Obviously their intended victim had no artifact like the bird had promised. The necromancer would have to exact payment in some other measure for his trouble.

 

A pound of bones should almost be worth his leaving his beloved desert for this too green hell.

 

Bone Daddy drew his steed up when he reached a spot where two vehicles had pulled off the road. One sat parked under a tree perfectly. The other rested at an angle from the road, pushed almost into another tree. It seemed he was still behind his rivals.

 

Maybe he needed air support.

 

His hands massaged the shoulders of his dragon. Bones extended from the clavicles and collar bones to form large wings. A great flap carried him above the trees as yellow sparks lit up in the skull's eyes.

 

Bone Daddy listened as the dragon spoke to him in mutters. The crystal magician and some walking corpses had entered the trees in search of the Duster Boy. The lions ran after them, ready to exercise their great jaws. Ahead the masked sphinx held everyone's goal. The smell drifted to the dead monster, alerting it to the presence of its enemy.

 

Perfume also drifted on the air. The dragon recognized it from the bookshop. Bone Daddy hoped the woman had enough sense to stay out of the way until things were settled.

 

He didn't want to kill a human. Their bones were no good to him.

 

The dragon dropped down over a clearing. The masked man held the Duster Boy prisoner. He raised his hands to work some kind of magic. That couldn't be allowed.

 

Bone Daddy tapped the back of the dragon's skull. The dragon turned with a twist of its ivory framework. It dropped down, fire building into a ball in its mouth. It released as soon as its teeth started to grind on the gathering energy. The blast headed right to the black and silver magician. He half turned, raising a shield too late. The impact drove him into the trees in a crash.

 

Bone Daddy directed his flamethrower to spray the trees also. He might as well keep the others busy while he descended to gather up the prize and move away from the battlefield as quickly as possible.

 

"Thanks for the help." Duster Boy struggled against his still tight wrapping. "Do you think you can get me out of this?"

 

"Not yet." Bone Daddy ordered two more fireballs fired into the trees. That should form a wall between him, his quarry, and the other seekers out there in the forest. "I still have to find out what this is about."

 

"I don't see how that's important." Duster Boy tried to pull his pistol. The wrapping held his hand too far down to get the revolver out its holster.

 

"You must form a containment vessel." The bird stated the next procedure for Bone Daddy as it had for the other magician. "Then you must call out the charge from his body into this containment vessel. That will give you enough to change the world."

 

"That sounds easily enough done." Bone Daddy ordered his dragon to attack at will while he dismounted to conduct the ritual.

 

"You're being used." Duster Boy struggled to get at his pistol. "If Mad George Tribolyte is behind this, you won't keep whatever you steal from me."

 

"If I have enough to change the world, I doubt he will be able to stop me." Bone Daddy raised his hands. He could draw out bone from the Duster Boy to hold whatever he stole. It would make the process easy. "This will only sting a bit."

 

Something crashed against the side of Bone Daddy's face. He went down under the blow. The last thing he thought was the shape of his urn.

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

16

 

Kitty Dorfman ran to where Duster Boy floated in the air. The bone dragon stood watching the other way. She hoped it remained that way. Bone Daddy wouldn't be waking up anytime soon.

 

"Get me out of this please." Duster Boy smiled. He might have a chance with two of the rivals down. That left the dead men and the crystal worker. He supposed that either one of those had been in the trees when the fireballs went off.

 

"How?" Kitty pulled back a fist. She struck. Her hand vanished and then reappeared at the end of her swing. "This thing is tough."

 

"I got iron and silver bullets loaded in my pistol." Duster Boy looked at the burning trees. They had to get out of there before a full blown forest fire got started and trapped them. "See if you can pull it and shoot this thing."

 

Kitty grabbed the binding stream. She ignored the unpleasant sensation running up her arm and pulled. Glittering light appeared in her eyes for a second as she pulled out an opening for her hand. She yanked the holster out before the bonds closed again.

 

"Here goes nothing." Kitty pulled the revolver from the leather sheath and took aim. She thumbed the hammer back and fired. The bullet blasted part of the spell away. The rest started to bend away and fade.

 

"Excellent." Duster Boy took the pistol and holster back. He frowned at the sheared leather. He had never seen anything like that before.

 

"Sorry about that." Kitty gestured for him to start running away from the sacrificial area. "I do that sometimes."

 

"We should shoot those two." Duster Boy slipped a fresh shell into the chamber after he stuffed the holster and spent brass in a pocket of his coat.

 

"Not now." Kitty vanished into the trees. "I don't know how many more are out here with us."

 

"I'm hoping the four we know about are it." Duster Boy looked up at the sun. "And two of them are down for the moment thanks to you."

 

"What's all this about containment of life energy?" Kitty seized on the apparent motive for the assaults. "Who's Mad George?"

 

"When I knew him, he was a medium and able to shape ectoplasm to his wants." Duster Boy paused by a tree to check their back trail. "He hoped to create a circle that would use spirit power to do all kinds of amazing things."

 

"I sense a ‘But' coming on." Kitty only paused for him. She didn't seem to need to catch her breath at all.

 

"Sucking a lot of spirit energy out of the environment leaves a dust bowl behind." Duster Boy nodded that he was ready to keep running. "So when the scheme was uncovered, the people I worked for asked me to talk to him, and try to get him to end his experiments."

 

"You said you were put under a curse." Kitty moved like a cat in the shadows cast by the canopy of leaves overhead, leading her companion with a hand on his arm.

 

"Not a literal curse." Duster Boy frowned at the years of constant travel he had been forced to walk. "There was an explosion. I was caught in the blast. Ever since, I have been stuck moving with the lines of power that circle the Earth."

 

"Why come after you now?" Kitty paused to listen. Something moved to her right. She watched for a return occurrence. A deer ran as she stood on guard.

 

"I don't know unless he didn't know where I was going to be for so long until he figured some way to predict my arrival here in Marlowe." Duster Boy waited for his guide to take the lead again. "What bothers me is what does he hope to gain by grabbing my life force. Except for my travel arrangements, I'm just an ordinary guy."

 

"Maybe it's because of your travel arrangements." Kitty paused when she found a road. No traffic could be bad, or good. Bad meant no help out of the predicament they were in. Good meant no enemies in a car looking for them.

 

"I guess that's possible." Duster Boy mulled the thought over as they started down the road. They stayed among the trees to avoid possible trouble.

 

"Why would that make you important?" Kitty listened every few steps. Her hearing had improved since she had taken her self defense course at a one day talk. She had simply gotten better as she performed the basic moves and breathed the right way.

 

"I travel along charged lines." Duster Boy shrugged. "If I pick up some of the charge every time I move, potentially it would give me a life force greater than normal. If I had the training, I might be able to use it for greater magic."

 

"Sounds logical." Kitty paused when she saw the abandoned vehicles on the side of the road. She inspected the area around them for more problems before she checked to see if the cars were drivable.

 

"So he set four magicians on me to steal it?" Duster Boy watched the trees as Kitty went about her inspection.

 

"Maybe not exactly that." Kitty got behind the wheel of the car that had looked like a drunk had parked it. She ushered Duster Boy over as she started the car. Luckily the drunk had left the key in the ignition.

 

"Let's say that you're close to right." Duster Boy settled in the passenger seat. "How does that help us?"

 

"It doesn't because they all know what you look like." Kitty backed out of the grass, got the car turned around, and headed back into the city. "Our only hope is if they know you travel via these lines of power, we can trick them into thinking you're gone. Maybe we'll get lucky and actually hit one, and that will take care of the problem temporarily."

 

"Where do we go now?" Duster Boy slipped the pistol into his coat pocket. "They'll be watching for us everywhere."

 

"We can't go back to the bookstore." Kitty checked her mirrors for weird phenomena chasing their car down the road. "This car is probably stolen also. I guess we head to the mall and try to hide out until you get taken."

 

"What about your husband?" Duster Boy remembered she had said his name was odd.

 

"I can't get in touch with him." Kitty turned the car northbound once she entered the city limits proper. "I don't know what I am going to tell him about the store."

 

"I'm sure the destruction speaks for itself."

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

17

 

Bloodstone dropped his ruby shield as a walking dead man burned at the base of a tree. The corpse had caught a fireball which had ignited it and the tree behind it. The magician had raised a wall when he observed what was about to happen.

 

A split second hesitation would have seen the blood stealer on fire at the second volley.

 

Bloodstone decided that both of his rivals were down. He might as well keep it that way.

 

Bloodstone walked to where the silver and jet magician had been thrown by the first blast. A shielding ankh had blocked some of the blast. The rest had blown him down, setting his costume on fire. A crystal covered hand plunged into the man's chest. Blood drained as the magician died. His body deflated with the ebbing of his life.

 

Bloodstone discarded the corpse as he walked toward the other magician. Energy filled his frame from the transfusion. Once he had dealt with the bone collector, he could start looking for the object of the hunt.

 

Bloodstone grabbed the bony scarecrow's shoulder with one hand. He brought the other hand back to stab the necromancer. A noise made him pause.

 

The dragon swung its neck around, mouth opening to reveal azure fire shaping itself. It released the bad breath as Bloodstone dropped its master and dove away.

 

Bloodstone frowned under his ruby faceplate. He could have stabbed the magician. He just didn't know if that would stop the bone dinosaur, or release it to follow him with a rain of destruction wherever he went.

 

He wasn't going to be chased all over the country by an overgrown lizard with too many legs and not enough skin and muscle.

 

Bloodstone aimed both hands at the dragon as it aimed its mouth at him. He released a fusillade of spears at the beast. The ruby missiles pierced the bony skull. The construct's jaw dropped off before it fell to the ground in a heap of bones.

 

Bloodstone nodded. Time to take care of its master before someone else showed up to stop him.

 

Bloodstone readied himself to strike the killing blow. Pain filled his chest. He looked down. A piece of bone protruded from his faceted chestplate. He staggered back from the mortal blow to his heart.

 

A lion bore Bloodstone down to the ground. Its jaws bit into his neck, worrying at his spine. He tried to concentrate to escape its grasp and heal the wound to his torso. A sharp pain drove into his brain. That was the last thing he felt.

 

"Good job, Bo." Bone Daddy petted his lion on the head after he struggled to his feet. "It looks like we've cleared the field. Where's Luke?"

 

The lion coughed.

 

"Let's fix the big dog so we can ride down and see if Luke cornered them yet." Bone Daddy rubbed his hands together as he prepared to work his magic.

 

Bone Daddy preferred to work at his desk, binding the bone together with simple fittings and knots. He didn't have time for that if he wanted to get back on the trail of the Duster Boy. He would have to bring the dragon back to life and give it repairs on the fly.

 

Luckily he had two complete human skeletons at hand he could use to help repair his beast.

 

Bo sat on watch as his master raised his hands and told the heap that had been the dragon to snap back into shape. The bone animal tested wings and eight legs while stumbling around without a head.

 

"Hold on." Bone Daddy patted a shoulder with one hand as he thought about the problem.

 

The magician went to Bloodstone's corpse. He pulled the fragment of bone from the skull. It resembled a knife more than a piece of a rib. He used that to separate the skeleton from the rest of the body and the armor. He pulled the infrastructure out and gave it a nod with a critical eye.

 

He took the skeleton over to the dragon. He formed a head and neck before putting it on the stump where the old skull had sat before being impaled in a storm of ruby blades. The dragon roared when it could finally see again.

 

Bone Daddy inspected the other body. He shrugged in disappointment. Whatever Bloodstone had done had ruptured the bones of the masked magician's skeleton. It was unusable for anything but compost.

 

Bone Daddy climbed up on his repaired animal's back. He patted the beast's back. The dragon ran into the forest with a roar of joy. Bo fell in behind, silent as the big cat he resembled.

 

Duster Boy and his helper couldn't escape from his bony clutches. He had effective helpers of his own.

 

The dragon ran over a dead man walking toward the road and kept going. Bone Daddy looked back, torn between keeping up the hunt and garnering more material for use. The eight legged steed kept going. Empty eye sockets looked for the asphalt so it would know which way to turn when it broke from the forest.

 

"We can fly if that isn't too much of a problem." Bone Daddy sat comfortably in a natural saddle. He would only fall off if the dragon suffered something catastrophic.

 

The dragon roared. It leaped on a tree big enough to support it and climbed to the top. It spread its wings and launched into the air. It flapped to gain altitude but once high enough glided like some oversize hang glider.

 

"Isn't this better than running?" Bone Daddy watched the ground go by, confident that Bo could keep up on its four feet.

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

18

 

Bubba Smith made his way down the city streets. He wanted to let loose the local animals on the populace. Only the fact that this wasn't his turf, and he had a job to do prevented him from doing that.

 

Sally Mae grinned at anybody who came too close as she trundled along.

 

Bubba had forced that other magician to take off. He didn't think it was for good. A fall shouldn't have done anything to a real magician. That wouldn't have stopped the swamp walker.

 

The knife wound was more worrying. It wouldn't stop inflicting pain on him. He should be beyond that. He had been walking around a long while since his death. Nothing he did helped with the wound.

 

At least he couldn't bleed. That would be embarrassing to say the least.

 

Bubba met one of his mosquitos. It gave a report. The man in the picture had been seen on the other side of town. He had been riding in a car with a woman.

 

Bubba examined the mental picture of the woman. He decided he didn't like her metallic green eyes. They said something to him. He didn't know what.

 

He would also have to remove her. He didn't like that. Women were not his favorite targets to murder. He put that down to his schooling.

 

Bubba set off in the direction the car had been going. He told the mosquito to post a look out for the magician puppet master and any dead men walking. They should give a warning if the other came too close to where he set up his operation.

 

The cowboy and the woman were taken. He had set his mind to it and it would be done.

 

Bubba walked along. He needed something to get across town faster than his feet. He needed a car.

 

Bubba started looking for any car that was big enough for Sally Mae. He had a rudimentary skill with automobiles. The transportation would cut down on people remembering which direction he took thanks to the one eyed alligator.

 

Bubba found an old Thunderbird convertible with the top down. He opened one of the back door and ushered Sally Mae into the back seat. She waited for him to close the door, rearing up to look over the edge of the passenger compartment.

 

Bubba went around to the other side, and jumped the door to slide behind the wheel. He checked the ignition. The owner had not left the key. He pulled out a pocket knife. He jammed that into the ignition switch and turned. The engine turned over.

 

Bubba ignored calls to stop as he pulled away from the curb. He turned to follow the road in the direction his quarry had gone. He missed a car at a stop sign and kept going.

 

Bubba decided he needed to drive more often when he got back home. All he had at the moment was his feet and a swamp boat he had taken from someone who didn't need it anymore. A car he could drive would make some of his errands easier to accomplish.

 

He wondered where he could hide the thing. He certainly wouldn't be able to drive it all the way to his cabin. He needed a garage at the edge of the swamp so he could reach into the nearby cities.

 

A touch of reality tended to make people reevaluate their plans. This was especially true of people who had business partners with missing limbs in their office buildings.

 

Bubba cut through Marlowe with abandon. He ignored sirens telling him to stop. He answered to a higher authority.

 

Sally Mae voiced her disapproval.

 

"Sorry." Bubba headed into an alley, and put it in reverse. "It's been a while since I drove anywhere."

 

The police car appeared in his mirror. A heavy soled boot stomped down on the gas. The Thunderbird roared down the alley toward the wailing vehicle. The policeman started backing up to get out of the way. The heavy old car could possibly smash his engine and still drive away.

 

A ramp of grass grew out of alley floor. Bubba drove on that. His rear wheels smashed down on the roof of the other car. Then the full weight of his car came down on the smaller Charger. The Thunderbird dropped to the street. The swamper backed in a turn, then pulled away from the flattened wreck.

 

"As soon as we get to this mall thing, we'll have to dump the car." Bubba waved at the cop trying to open his door. "Maybe we'll have to dump it sooner."

 

Bubba made a couple of turns. He found the street he wanted. A quick turn and he deposited the car in a carport. He got out, picked a direction, started walking. Sally Mae flopped over the side of the Thunderbird and trundled after him.

 

"I expect we'll see some of the skeeters." Bubba glided across the yards. "They'll point us the right way."

 

Police converged on the parked car. They searched the immediate surroundings. None of them seemed to notice Bubba and Sally Mae on the grass strolling away.

 

Bubba led the way into a yard. He headed for a fence at the back. He could get over that, then turn. The more he kept on the move, more chances came into view. He needed to wrap this problem up before he got into a real pickle.

 

A mosquito arrived to declare the mall was under close supervision. No one could enter or leave without them seeing it. It turned to lead the way back the way it had come.

 

Bubba walked behind the bug. He kept an eye out for more police that might know about Sally Mae and use that to find them. He didn't want to have to fight free if he could avoid it.

 

On the other hand, many a man had suffered a watery grave because the herons demanded it.

 

Bubba spotted the great building that could only be the mall that he was looking for. He wondered how much wildlife had been forced out to build such an edifice to spending. He wanted to keep his own place clean of such things. Maybe he should change his targets.

 

Bubba descended down a hill, crossed a street, then started across the parking lot. Somewhere in that place a man waited for someone like him to show up. He straightened his hat and picked up his step.

 

He couldn't disappoint the man.

 

Bubba pushed through the glass doors. He paused in the gleaming corridor. His first instinct was to turn Sally Mae loose on some of these people in their stores. He held himself back. He might need some of them as hostages.

 

Bubba headed down the hall. Sally Mae followed, scrabbling on the tile. People who saw them got out of the way. A large reptile walking through the mall wasn't something you saw everyday.

 

The thought that the alligator might bite was on everyone's face.

 

Bubba saw his quarry at the other end of the building. He turned at the end of the first corridor and started walking. He doubted either one of them would start anything in the mall. It was the nature of things that confrontations would soon cause exposure. Bubba didn't care about that. He doubted they felt the same.

 

Bubba closed until he was within speaking distance of the two. They waited for him, keeping an eye on anyone else who might show up. He thought that was prudent.

 

This thing had already grown too twisted for his taste.

 

"I think that's close enough." The cowboy had his hands in his pockets. A bulge in one told Bubba he had something besides his hand in his coat.

 

"There's two ways this is going to go." Bubba put his own hands in his pockets. "I'm going to ask a couple of questions. Depending on the answers, we might part ways and you won't see me again. Any problems and someone feeds the gator."

 

"Go ahead and ask your questions." The Duster Boy nodded his agreement to the terms.

 

"Do you really have an artifact I can use to create my perfect preserve back home?" Bubba wanted to know if that was real above anything else.

 

"No." The Duster Boy shook his head. "The only things I have are silver bullets."

 

"That's what I thought." Bubba frowned. "What's behind this?"

 

"I don't know for sure. From what some people said, a man named Tribolyte is behind this." The Duster Boy nodded at a passing woman. She clutched her purse and hurried away.

 

"I don't know him." Bubba frowned. He should have known this was a snipe hunt. He should have stayed in Florida.

 

"Are we square?" The Duster Boy eyeballed some security guards who seemed to be trying to decide whether they should rush the trio of them and the pet alligator.

 

"Yes." Bubba turned to walk away. There was nothing to hold him if the thing was a scam.

 

The dragon crashing through the central skylight to hover over the food court upstairs made Bubba pause in his walking away. He looked up through the openings that allowed the upper floors to look down on the floors below them. Moving bone made him think here was another of Tribolyte's stooges.

 

That wasn't his problem.

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

19

Bone Daddy looked around for his target. He knew the man was somewhere here in the crowd. He just needed to find him.

 

Emergency response meant he needed to hurry.

 

He had to get his man and get out of there before someone came along to try to put bullets in him. He looked up at the sky and figured he had a few minutes to take care of business.

 

His other three minions arrived to block three of the exits. Empty sockets and nasal passages inspected moving bodies for the right man. The other two exits meant everyone had to flee under the dragon for their master to observe.

 

Bone Daddy decided to make a demand for an appearance. He didn't know the Duster Boy but he doubted that the man would let someone burn in his place.

 

"I know you're here." Bone Daddy used his hands to amplify his voice. "Come on out before I have a barbecue."

 

The cowboy stepped into view on the third floor. He seemed to be alone. Did he separate from the woman? Where was she?

 

"I'm here." The cowboy had his hands in his coat pockets. "Why don't you give up before someone gets hurt."

 

"Come up here and we'll talk about it." Bone Daddy waved him on. "I hate to set this place on fire."

 

The Duster Boy went to a glass elevator for those too lazy to use the escalators at the ends of the building. He rode up to where the dragon rider waited. One hand indicated the nearest bystanders should move out of the way and get off the floor.

 

"So we meet again." Bone Daddy's grin spread from ear to ear.

 

"There isn't any prize." Duster Boy waited near the railing. If worse came to worse, he would try to swing down to a lower floor if he had to.

 

"What do you mean?" Bone Daddy paused.

 

"I talked to one of your rivals. I know you were all promised some kind of item for my seizure. I'm not carry anything that would interest you." Duster Boy nodded at the people moving out of the way. He hoped the people in the stores had gone out of the back exits to the halls between the places so they would be out of the way.

 

He had to stall for as long as he could.

 

"Taking your bones will just have to do then." Bone Daddy urged his dragon forward. "I can add it to my collection."

 

"You can't really expect me to believe you came all this way just to grab my bones." The Duster Boy ushered a woman and her kid out of the way with his left hand. "That seems a paltry second place."

 

"It's better than nothing." Bone Daddy looked around. Something was wrong. Where was the woman?

 

"You're making a big mistake." The cowboy looked around. The floor looked clear of collateral targets. "I just want to move along without any trouble."

 

"I think we are at an end to the talking part." Bone Daddy tapped his steed on the back of its skull.

 

"Only if you want to die." The Duster Boy shrugged. "I don't have a problem with just walking away."

 

The dragon opened its mouth. A fireball readied to shoot. A silver bullet struck first. Then an iron bullet hit right beside the first bullet hole. The two holes looked like spaces for extra eyes on the skull.

 

The dragon collapsed. Energy wafted up in a cloud. Bone Daddy dropped to the tiled floor.

 

"I used to deal with monsters." Duster Boy pulled his pistol from his coat. He regretted the two holes he had put in the cloth.

 

Bone Daddy's expression changed to one of horror. He reached for the bone to charge it. A bullet stopped him by giving him a third eye in the middle of his forehead.

 

Duster Boy pulled the three spent rounds. He loaded three ready ones. He hadn't seen the dead men again, but he wanted to be ready. He was sure the other one hadn't been behind those.

 

Anyone walking around with an alligator at his heels probably didn't care about using a bunch of stinking corpses to do his dirty work.

 

Duster Boy put the pistol away and started walking. He needed to get out of the building before anyone tried to stop him. He didn't want to get involved with the local cops any more than these magicians did.

 

Kitty Dorfman joined him as he reached the first floor. She checked her watch as they walked to the door.

 

"Alligator man left." Kitty pushed a pile of bones out of the way with her foot so they could open the door and step outside. "He looked down."

 

"I'm more worried about the one we haven't met yet." Duster Boy took a look around before starting across the parking lot.

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

20

 

 

Mojo Bones sat in the back of his stolen van and thought. He seemed to be the only one in the game, but his target was looking for him. How could he get around that?

 

Maybe an overwhelming show of force would make the cowboy surrender without actually having to kill him. His watchers had shown him what had happened in the clearing. Stealing life was his specialty.

 

Mojo checked on the other magician. The gator man walked toward the airport. It looked like he was actually going home like he had told the cowboy he would. The watcher would stay with him until he was on a plane.

 

Mojo owed him for the bitten leg and the impact with the car roof. Someday he would pay that debt back tenfold. For now, the man leaving the same city had to be good enough until taking the cowboy's life had been accomplished.

 

Mojo's watchers formed a net around the Duster Boy and his companion. Mojo had no illusions about the woman. She had taken the dragon rider before he knew she was there. She possessed some kind of ability.

 

Mojo decided on distance attacks. Why fight close up, when you can snipe from out of range.

 

He issued his orders to his army.

 

The watchers left two of their number to keep an eye on the traveler while the rest visited the closest sporting good store. The owner of the store didn't like having dead men smash open his display cases and steal rifles and ammo. He expressed his displeasure with a hand gun. One of the armed dead men stopped that with a swing of his rifle's butt.

 

Bullet holes were annoying.

 

The dead man got ahead of Duster Boy and his lady. The pair seemed to be heading back to the bookstore that had been destroyed by the Egyptoid. That seemed the perfect place for an ambush.

 

Mojo directed the van to a spot a couple of streets over as his dead men poured into the bookstore. They set up firing positions among the shelves so they could cover the front of the building with no problem. More took position in the opened businesses on either side of the block to box the two in if they decided to run.

 

No one seemed to have noticed the large hole in the front of the bookstore.

 

Mojo thought that was good. He didn't want to deal with the police while trying to execute a kidnaping. Collateral damage was something that was unavoidable, not desired.

 

The Duster Boy arrived. His eyes swiveled to take in the street for people that didn't belong. One hand stayed in his coat pocket.

 

The woman walked a couple of steps behind. Mojo didn't know if she was acting as a rearguard, or if she was under protection.

 

He decided that it didn't matter. He had to take both of them.

 

Duster Boy paused at the store. He suspected something waited in the rubble. Mojo could tell that from the way his face set as he looked in the shadows cast by the afternoon sun. He spoke to the woman about something. The watchers couldn't hear the words to give to their master.

 

Mojo ordered his troops to spring the trap. Their numbers should take care of things easily.

 

Dead men sprang from hiding. They brandished rifles unsteadily to show they meant business. Duster Boy and the woman raised their hands. Bystanders could be shot by the walking corpses the way the barrels swayed side to side.

 

Mojo smiled.

 

He directed the dead men to bring their captives to the van where he waited. Then he could get down to business.

 

The gray bird landed on the hood of the van. It seemed to be waiting for Mojo to actually hold the captives in his hand.

 

Mojo smiled. Soon he would have his reward. Then he could return to his cemetery and spread it to cover New York. The island would be his at last.

 

He forced himself to concentrate on the present. Daydreaming about what you wanted could lead to problems in execution.

 

Mojo directed the captives to be disarmed and placed in another vehicle. He ordered the rest of his dead men to acquire vehicles to follow them to wherever the bird chose to lead. He didn't want to give up his numerical advantage.

 

The van started when the bird flew off. The dead driver obeyed the speed limit while following. The other cars came in line with a shakier grasp of road rules. The captive car followed directly behind the van.

 

The woman sat behind the driver. A guard sat next to her with Duster Boy's pistol pointed at her face. That should have been a deterrent.

 

One of her hands grabbed the pistol away from the guard. The other slammed him through the side window in a boneless heap. He got back up when he stopped rolling on the ground. The woman turned and swung the butt of the gun as a hammer against the driver's skull. The stunning blow allowed her to push the dead man from the car.

 

The whole thing took three seconds maybe. Then she was behind the driver's wheel and flooring it.

 

Mojo directed his men to shoot at the car. He would lose the prize, but at least the two of them would be dealt with to avoid any more problems.

 

Duster Boy fell out of the passenger side of the car as it sped at the van. He hunted cover as the dead men pointed weapons at him from the windows of their oncoming cars. Their reflexes weren't good enough to allow shooting yet.

 

The woman drove the car into the back of the van.

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

21

 

Kitty Dorfman wondered if she was doing the right thing. She should be running away. Instead she pushed down on the gas until the back doors of the van loomed large. She slipped in the backseat. The car rammed under the rear bumper of the van.

 

Kitty climbed out of the car as the other vehicle struggled to roll forward. She jumped on the hood. Time to get inside the van and take care of things.

 

How did she get cast as a heroine of derring do?

 

She pulled the doors open. Dead men tried to block her way. Hands countered their slow movements and dropped the corpses out of the back of the van.

 

Whether or not Kitty wanted to be a hero, she had invaded the lair of the villain and disposed of his guards. Now she had to take care of the villain. She paused. She couldn't remember her self defense moves. She totally blanked.

 

"Give up, the jig is up." That didn't sound right to Kitty. "I don't want to hurt you."

 

"I don't know who you are." Mojo Bones stood up. "I don't care. I am this close to realizing my dream. No woman is going to stop me."

 

"I'm really mad right now." Kitty felt her moves coming back. "My bookstore is in ruins, weirdoes have chased me across town, and at least one man is dead. I want to get back to my normal life. I want you to give this up and leave town. I won't call the police and report you."

 

"I think it would be better if I killed you and then finished Duster Boy." Mojo Bones pulled out his wicked curved knife. "What do you say to that?"

 

"Oh, you're going down." Kitty shook her head.

 

Mojo Bones smiled, coming forward. He swung the knife, aiming for a quick end to the battle.

 

Kitty's hand came up to catch his wrist. He moved slower than molasses to her. She brought the edge of the other hand down. The blow knocked the knife out of Mojo's hand and into his foot. All the dead men wailed in pain.

 

Mojo looked down at the blade sticking out of van's floor.

 

Mojo tried to pull away from the knife. He dropped down on a knee to pull it out.

 

Kitty brought her hand down. The edge sliced the side of Mojo's head. He went down, ripping up his foot as the blade separated the bones. Kitty winced at the blood flow. She looked down at her hand.

 

"I need to start practicing again." Kitty pulled the knife out of the van's flooring. She swung the flat of it against the door frame. It snapped under the blow.

 

Wails surrounded Kitty. She couldn't separate the number of voices from the uproar. They blew pass her, fading as they went.

 

"I warned you." Kitty shook her head at the fallen magician. "You should have left town."

 

"What are we going to do about the dead men?" Duster Boy indicated the corpses that lay everywhere in the street. "I don't think we can bury them again."

 

"Don't look at me." Kitty shrugged. "I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to tell Odd. He is going to blow his top when he sees the mess we left."

 

"I can't help you with that." Duster Boy shrugged.

 

"Let's call the police." Kitty pulled out her phone. "Maybe they can fix things while I think of some way to replace the glass and door to the store."

 

"Just leave me out of things since I won't be around for long." Duster Boy shoved his hat back. "As soon as I take a wrong step, I'll be somewhere else."

 

"No problem." Kitty dialed the emergency number. "How's it going? I'd like to report a bunch of dead men laying around on Hopcroft Avenue. That's right. I don't know. Maybe ten."

 

Kitty hung up.

 

"Let's go back to your bookstore." Duster Boy started walking. "I'll think of something to get it fixed up."

 

The two of them walked down the sidewalk. Duster Boy turned at the next street. He vanished like a popping balloon.

 

"I should have known that was going to happen." Kitty shook her head and kept walking. Police sirens told her someone at the police station had believed her enough to send someone to look into things.

 

Kitty finished the walk to her shop. She paused at the threshold to get a look at things. It looked worse than she remembered.

 

At least the gator guy was gone.

 

Kitty walked in and started putting the books back on the shelves. She looked around. What should she tell Odd about her day?

 

"Excuse me." Kitty raised her eyebrow at her visitor. "I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment."

 

"I'm sorry. We're closed for the moment." Kitty thought that should have been obvious from the look of things.

 

"I just wanted to say thank you, Catherine Morehead Dorfman." The man smiled, splitting his gray and blond beard. "You have done me a great service today."

 

Kitty heard the sound of a book flipping pages. It was something she heard everyday as her customers browsed the merchandise. Finally the sound stopped. A rectangle of glowing paper fell to the floor between her and her visitor.

 

Not another one.

 

The shop began repairing itself. Glass retreated to its place. Rips in books glued together. Smashed wood slid together as the floor reunited to cover up where the dragon had dug under the shield. Kitty looked around. Everything seemed to be following the orders of a Mary Poppins.

 

"Thank you, Mrs. Dorfman." The bearded stranger smiled again. He straightened his old bomber jacket. "You have done more for me than I would have ever thought."

 

He turned and vanished with a flipping of paper in the air.

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

epilogue

 

The grave sat under a tree within sight of the cabin the Hermit had built with his hands. Two more rested on either side. A few more graves had their own stones further away. The Hermit looked off in the distance.

 

He had installed his family on his land with their deaths. Sentiment and precaution inspired this move.

 

Sentiment wanted him to keep his relatives close and well cared for even after they had passed on to their next life. Precaution made him consider all those who wanted to revenge themselves on him for things he had committed years earlier when he walked the world.

 

The magical underground thrived on those who would use their skills on the emotional weak points of people.

 

The Hermit took the bottle from his jacket pocket. Mad George had reluctantly handed it over. He had glared with his fiery eyes from the tray carried by his servant. That didn't matter as long as he held up his end of the bargain.

 

The Hermit had seen them off with a wave and a smile. Tribolyte had growled his frustration.

 

The Hermit held up the bottle. He searched for the right spell in his encyclopedic knowledge. He summoned the seal breaker. The bottle shattered into a million drifting ribbons of sparks rapidly dissipating on the night air.

 

"Hello, Dad." The spirit wore the old US Army base uniform from the forties. "It's been a long time."

 

"Hello, Stevie." The Hermit smiled. "It has been a long while. I never knew what happened back then. I looked for you."

 

"I know." Stevie smiled. "I always told you that magic couldn't do everything."

 

"I'm forced to agree with you." The Hermit took out two bottles of beer. He handed one over to the spirit. "I hope your afterlife is better than the life you left."

 

"Nothing's better than living and mixing it up, Dad." Stevie took a sip from his bottle. "Hiding out is giving up."

 

"Oh, really?" The Hermit took a sip of his own beer.

 

"Really." Stevie took one last sip from his bottle before putting it down on his gravestone. "I have to go. Remember what I said. Get out. Do things. Raise hell. It'll do you good."

 

The former captain faded in a beam of glowing light. His hand waved in farewell as he went to his rest.

 

The Hermit finished his own beer, enjoying the taste. He picked up the half empty from the stone, and turned to walk toward the cabin.

 

He had looked for his son. The army had needed some coercing before he could get into the files. Then he had gone overseas to conduct his search. Stevie's body had been at the base of an old castle that had been destroyed in fighting. Magic lay over everything but none indicated how he had died.

 

The Hermit brought the body home and buried it under the stone he had carved with a chisel and hammer. He told the army about the castle, but refused to talk to anyone else about it.

 

Mad George Tribolyte had dredged all that up with his challenge. Somehow he had secured the bottle with Stevie's spirit inside. The Hermit felt that the capture must have happened at the castle. That was the only thing that made sense.

 

He contemplated burning Tribolyte down. He held himself back because of his word meaning something to him. Still it was a pleasant thought.

 

The thought of the Death Tribble trying to run with no legs appealed to him.

 

The Hermit put the bottles on the wash board next to his kitchen sink. He would get rid of them later. He sat down on his couch, pulled his book close to read himself to sleep like he usually did.

 

He found himself struggling with the thought of who had held his son in captivity for so long. Tribolyte said the man had not known what he had. Someone did when they handed him the bottle.

 

Someone must know the real story.

 

The Hermit put the book aside. He wanted to know where the bottle had come from and who held it before Tribolyte.

 

That might be just the thing to lift him out of this restlessness he felt.

 

He would have to get as much information as he could from the talking furball.

 

He thought about Stevie's last words. Maybe he had retreated too far from the city where he should be asking for information on the person Death Tribble spoke to.

 

The Hermit doused the thought of ripping places apart. That way led to the inferno before you know it. He should arrange for George to give him the aid he needed. He might have to give the furball a replacement body after all.

 

The Hermit went to his window, thinking about the next few days. Did he really want to delve into history for something that had been over for years?

 

The Hermit decided that maybe he should leave things alone. He didn't have to walk through history. That would open old wounds. Walking away from others was the whole reason for retreating from civilization.

 

Maybe that had been a bad decision.

 

The Hermit stared back into the years, thinking about the decisions that had led him to his solitary position. He couldn't trace his path from where he stood. How did that happen?

 

Maybe he should get his hands dirty again.

 

It might be nice to get the rust off after all these years.

 

THE END

[ghost-angel]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

Very nicely done.

[bubba smith]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

agreed ghost- angel

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

Thanks guys. Rep will be forthcoming. I think the next one is a prewar story.

CES

[bubba smith]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

what war?

[DusterBoy]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

I'm off my ley line travels again, the magical mystery tour. Oh well, at least the bad guys didn't get me. I just hope I can get this curse lifted from me sometime soon.

 

Much thanks for all of that, csyphrett. I'd rep you but "must spread. . ." yadda, yadda, yadda.

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

what war?

 

World War 2

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: Gaming with Strangers

 

I'm off my ley line travels again, the magical mystery tour. Oh well, at least the bad guys didn't get me. I just hope I can get this curse lifted from me sometime soon.

 

Much thanks for all of that, csyphrett. I'd rep you but "must spread. . ." yadda, yadda, yadda.

 

Eventaully I will reread this story and use it for more ideas. Just now I haven't come up with anything I haven't written down already.

CES