Out of the Black - Lee Doty [142]
"Do I look okay to you?" The woman said shakily, exasperation breaking through her misery. She gave what may have started as a bitter laugh, but terminated in sobs. Her left hand went to her face. Her right hand held a severed arm like a club.
Rae shook her head. "But I don't need to shoot you though, right?"
"You think it would do you any good?" As she spoke, the big woman waved the disembodied arm she held for emphasis, "Besides, you'd probably need a wooden stake or silver bullets."
As Anne gave the severed arm a final shake for emphasis, a little skinny guy with shiny chrome hair limped around the corner behind the cop. His eyes flashed around the room, taking in the scene. "Wow." He said.
"Just a sec." Anne said, not breaking eye contact with the cop. Still giving her the 'don't shoot me' look, she turned her head extra slowly to one side so she could speak over her shoulder. "Hey Sean!" she shouted.
Behind her, one of the huddling hospital workers poked his head up from behind the operating bed on the other side of the room.
"You are a trauma doc, right?"
"Ah... sure... yeah." he said, not knowing where she was going with this line of questions.
"Ok... just wanted to make sure." Without turning fully away from the visitors at the door, Anne raised her arm slowly to point at Hawthorne's sprawled body.
After a few seconds of pointing and confused silence, the doctor had a flash of inspiration and jumped to his feet. "Right! Stella!" He clapped the other surgeon on the shoulder and rushed to help the fallen woman. Two of the other three came to his side, leaving only poor damp Jeremy on the ground by the wall.
"Told you Dek was here." The little guy at the door said to the cop. He gestured to the carnage with a told-you-so look. He then put his hand on his head, like he was thinking hardiv hv height="0">
The cop nodded, then addressed Anne, "You seen a really fast guy with spiky hair and a wicked sword round these parts?"
Anne looked confused.
"Well, who..." The cop's eyes glanced around at the destruction.
"Oh!" The little guy startled the cop, his eyes widened with surprise, then settled on Anne.
"Oh... no... this is..." Chrome-top stammered.
Anne felt a familiar tingle across her skin, more satin sheets this time than caffeinated eels, but unmistakably the same thing. "Don't you even start with me you little pipsqueak!" she leveled her finger at him.
"Pipsqueak?" He looked confused, "...you felt that?"
Anne continued what she hoped was a menacing stare. She didn't think she could beat both the magic whammy the little guy was wielding and the cop's fletcher, so she was left with bravado.
"No. Wait!" The little guy shouted, sensing impending tragedy, "We're not here to hurt you. You don't... Ping! Get down here!"
Anne lowered in her stance, she'd forgotten about the guy above with the assault gun. This was about to get ugly. Sensing Anne's plans, the cop got more serious with her aim, her face hardened.
The little guy held up a hand. "Stop!" he pleaded, "Please, both of you." His glance flitted from Anne to the cop. "We're on your side... I think we are anyway. We can always duke it out later if we find out you're evil... you're not evil, right?"
Anne's laugh was perhaps one-third whimper. "That's the question, isn't it? I mean just look around!" Her three arms gestured to include the perhaps eight corpses. "Supergirl or Bride of Dracula?" She threw the severed arm to the ground with the rest of the carnage.
"Speaking of evil..." the Asian guy in the observation room called down, "The guys up here were bad guys, right?"
Anne sobbed.
"Right?" He repeated, a little more concerned.
"Sure... They gunned down a federal agent," she glanced over her shoulder to where the doctors worked on Hawthorne. "...tried to kill me too, but then everybody's been trying that lately."