Date: Tue, 6 Jun 1995 14:05:23 -600 Reply-To: "Jason R. Tippitt" Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "Jason R. Tippitt" Subject: "Gothic" ("In The End..." Pt.2) Ch.11 ****************************************************************************** " I N T H E E N D . . . " ****************************************************************************** A Highlander/Batman Tale of the Future Jason R. Tippitt, 1994-95 http://www.utm.edu/~jtippitt/j.shtml Warning: Violence and Profanities Comments, suggestions, constructive criticism, questions, back-chapter requests to JTippitt@Utm.Edu (Asbestos is my life...don't bother flaming me.) Book 2: "Gothic" Chapter 11 ******* Kenny and Carrie didn't pay much attention to Bruce's comments in the war room; they spent more time looking into each other's eyes. Still, they caught the gist of his comments, and neither was particularly pleased. Seemed there was a situation brewing in Tibet that could cause World War III, and Lady Shiva wanted to take Bruce and Kenny with her to DC to meet some people bent on stopping it. Kenny didn't want to leave. He knew he couldn't stand a chance against an older (not to mention larger) Immortal; and besides, Carrie... Bruce and Shiva began arguing the issue of Kenny loudly and Bruce ordered Kenny, Carrie, Ollie, all the Sons of the Bat's leaders out of the room. Kenny was, for once, happy to obey. "Seems to me sending you along would be a lamb to the slaughter," Ollie remarked. "I mean, you seem to be pretty good with lockpicks and sneaking around, and you've taken to the bow like no one I've ever seen, but from what I've seen of you with a sword..." "Don't rub it in," Kenny replied darkly. Carrie just hugged him. ******* Jason stayed in the car, silent, that same damn spooky rabbit-in-the-headlights look on his face, all the way to DC. Vic had put off stopping for gas, and luckily the car stalled as he pulled into a gas station just outside of the city. "You want anything, Jason?" Vic asked, half-in and half-out of the car. "A Coke, a beer?" "A quick and painless death." "Glad to see we're so cheerful," Vic murmured half to himself as he refueled the car. He felt the Buzz hit him as he walked toward the doors of the store. "Duck!" a voice screamed, and Vic heeded it. He dropped, kicking out to trip a charging figure. Vic sprang up, drawing his sword. "Who are you?" he demanded, blocking a clumsy attack by his opponent. He could tell she was female, but that was about it--her hair was blocking her face. She screeched like a banshee and took another swing. He blocked this one as well, then slammed one of his feet into her chin, knocking her down. He stepped on his wrist so she couldn't pick her sword up and jerked her head up to look at her. She looked to be in her thirties. She might have been attractive once, but now she was just filthy; needle tracks stood out on her arms, and she reeked of liquor. "You ain't got a face," she said, then giggled madly. "You ain't got no fucking face...who the hell are *you*?" Vic sighed. Looked around, saw the cashier of the gas station standing behind the door watching. "I'm another of your kind. You know that. Why did you attack me?" Now she looked serious. "I want you to kill me." "I don't do that sort of thing. My friend in the car there wants me to kill him, too, but I won't do it. I don't kill my friends." "Well, I was hoping you'd think I was an *enemy.* That's why I attacked you, dumbass." Vic looked back at the store. The cashier was on the phone. "Probably calling the police or the National Enquirer," he muttered. "Get in the car." "Huh?" "I'm going to pay for the gas. Get in the car." Vic walked toward the station, sword still at the ready. When he walked in, the cashier, a short white man with thinning hair, went ballistic. "One of them is in here!" he screamed. "I am at Exit--" Vic smashed the phone with his sword. "Forget you saw me." He lay three fresh $100 bills on the counter and walked back out. He opened the car door and saw that it was empty. "Fuck." He sank down in the seat and put the key in the ignition. Figuring it might be a few minutes, he turned on the radio and looked for a song. He settled on the one station coming in well and left it there. "This is Bill the Ominous, thinking these storms are pretty damn cool. I mean, the weather outside looks like the end of the friggin' world? Isn't that just the coolest? I could've told you this would happen after we elected an all-Republican government, but the station managers didn't want me to play politics, so I figured I'd wait until I was proven right." The DJ's voice annoyed Vic, so he turned the station. "Man, I even agree with his politics, but I *still* wanna ring his neck," he said to himself. There were still no other stations coming in well. He turned it back, and at least the DJ was playing a song. Leonard Cohen, "The Future." "'I have seen the future, brother; it is murder.'" Vic laughed without much mirth. "Tell me about it." Static hit the radio, and Vic instinctively turned the volume up a few notches. Then he felt the power in the air begin to rise a little. "Hope you got her far enough away from here," he murmured. "Otherwise, right next to a gas pump's not gonna be a good place to be." Lightning struck down in the midst of a housing project a hundred, two hundred yards behind the gas station. It only lasted a few seconds. "She must've been a new one," Vic said to himself. The lights at the gas station blinked out. The lightning must have taken out a power line, Vic thought. Then the radio roared back on. "WHEN THEY SAID 'REPENT' I WONDER WHAT THEY MEANT?" "Shit!" Vic turned the volume back down. He looked around. The cashier was walking out of the store with an Uzi. "Shields." "Voice unrecognized. Try again," the car replied in a warm female voice. Michelle's, Vic figured. The cashier stopped just a few feet away from the car and ordered Vic to get out. He pretended to ignore the guy, looking over the dash for some sort of non-lethal defense mechanism. "I said, GET OUT!" Vic looked at the guy and pointed at himself quizzically. He pointed at his ear and shook his head. The guy stepped closer and Vic hit a red button between the driver's and passenger's seats. High frequency sound blasted from the car, stunning the man. Just then, Jason staggered into view. Vic turned the noise off. Jason, seeing the situation, walked over to the stunned cashier and took away his gun. "Didn't you know these things were outlawed back in '99?" About a mile away, they saw a police car with its lights on heading toward the station. "That was close," Jason murmured. "First you killed Annie Devlin, you killed the Catwoman, and now you kill that junkie. Maybe we ought to call you Ladykiller." "Shut the fuck up, Vic." "I was just pointing out that I noticed a trend." "In her case, and the Catwoman's, I was asked to do it. I'm a *real* friend, unlike some people." "We'll all be dead soon enough." "Ah, so you're starting to get down, too." "Actually, it was the radio blasting at me. I always get grumpy when I have a headache." ******* to be continued... =========================================================================