Six Feet Two Inches of Steel
by Alpesco
An illustrated story

The six foot two inch tall blonde scooped me up in her powerful arms, lifting me off the ground along with the forty pound box of equipment I was carrying.

"We'll move quicker this way," she said, breaking into a speedy jog as she carried me the five hundred yards back up to her pick-up truck. Despite all that I knew of Karen Sandwood's strength, I was still surprised that she carried me as if I weighed nothing. I know I stood just five feet seven inches tall, and weighed 130 pounds, to her 175, but she was jogging with me and the heavy box of equipment as if we weighed no more than a blow-up doll.

As the small army post receded behind us, I looked back to see if there was any sign of an alarm being raised. But I knew at once it was a forlorn hope. Not only had Sandwood somehow managed to defeat all four members of the temporary garrison, but the powerful twenty-eight year-old had left them laid out under the weight of a cocktail of drugs that would keep them unconscious for the next day or two - certainly long enough for Karen to make her escape. Sandwood would just drive me back to her mountain hideout, where she'd left my boyfriend, Vince safely locked away in an underground storm shelter.

I didn't even try to resist as the tall blonde jogged effortlessly up the hill into the trees. Sandwood had already proved just how powerful she was. Even my five foot ten companion, Vince, stood no chance against her, and he weighed slightly more than she did. But he seemed to have nowhere near Sandwood's speed, reach, or raw strength. This tall young woman was so strong, it was shocking how hard she could hit! When she'd flagged us down at the roadside over a week ago, we hadn't suspected this good-looking young woman to be a danger, but she'd overpowered us both when we'd refused to co-operate with her, and then driven us back, in our own car, to her mountain hide-away.

Drawing to a halt, she set me down beside her battered pick-up truck. After jogging five hundred yards uphill in little more than a minute and a half, she didn't even seem out of breath! I clambered into the passenger seat as she went round the other side. My knee hit the glove compartment, and it fell open releasing a mass of cloths, papers and a couple of maps onto the floor. Karen, still standing outside, stretched out her arm to help pick them up. Sandwood's arms were long and muscular, looking large even for her six foot two inch frame. Sorting through the fallen stuff, she came upon a large copper bangle a half inch across.

"Oh," she said. "I wondered where that went. I used to wear this on my arm a couple of years ago. She slipped on the slim copper bangle, pushing it up over her huge bicep. "It's a lot tighter than it used to be," she said. "But then my muscles are a fair deal larger than they were two years ago." She stretched out her long arm and did a slow flex. The big bicep swelled enormously, straining against the copper ring. I expected the ring to pinch her muscle tight, but Sandwood's bicep didn't give by a millimeter. It was as hard as stone, so solid that even the pressure of the brass ring didn't dent it. In fact I heard a steady creaking from the metal as the circular ring began to stretch and distort under the pressure of Karen's rock-hard bicep. I blinked, unsure whether I was seeing clearly.

After a moment Sandwood relaxed her arm and let the ring slip off, catching it in her hand. She held it up. It had been deformed into an oval by the sheer outward pressure of her expanding bicep.

"Wow!" I gasped, more and more impressed at Sandwood's strength.

Sandwood looked pleased. "I'm not finished yet," she said as she squeezed the plain copper bracelet back onto her upper arm again. This time she forced the narrowest part of the oval across the broadest part of her relaxed bicep. Again she stretched out her arm and flexed. The huge muscle expanded like a hill rising out of the earth with unstoppable force. The metal hoop didn't look to stand a chance against that mountainous muscle. The weakened band of metal bent easily, forced into the shape of Karen's huge, rock-hard bicep. With a fierce grin, Sandwood poured on another surge of power, tensing her arm to the utmost. Her seventeen inch bicep defined, hardening and expanding that vital half-inch more. The metal creaked again, and seemed to be stretching.

Then, with a sudden metallic snap, the metal bracelet broke, the weld cracking under the immense strain as the two ends of the circle were forced an inch apart. I gasped. She'd broken the metal bangle just by flexing her arm!

Karen relaxed her arm, letting the broken armband slip off. "There's not much can resist these babies," she said, flexing both arms again in an intimidating display of muscle.

"You're so strong!" I said, quite overwhelmed by Karen's impressive display. She made my boyfriend, Vince, seem like a wimp! "If you were a guy, I think I'd marry you!" I burbled.

She climbed in the wagon and drove back to the main road. It was an hour's drive back to her cabin, and the road was empty. Just then I saw a sign for a gas station, three miles ahead.

"I need the rest room.' I said quickly. I knew that Karen intended to keep us on her farmstead until she was sure that we presented no danger to her. After what we'd gone through, that might take weeks, even months, and I wanted to get back home straight away. Any stop would be a help, and it would provide some chance to get away, or alert the authorities. Sandwood hated the authorities. She had fled to these mountains to avoid government control, and to escape the breakdown of society that she was certain was just about to happen.

"Don't make any trouble." Sandwood warned. "It will just make me mad - and that will reduce you and your boyfriend's chances of going home anytime soon."

"I'm not making trouble," I lied. "I really need to go to the bathroom."

"Okay," Sandwood said, to my surprise. "But if you do try anything, you'll be sorry."

She drove another two miles, then turned off the road, pulling the pick-up into the driveway. I saw at once why she had given in to my demand so easily.

"This place closed down years ago," she said, nodding toward the abandoned yellow brick gas station and the several empty outbuildings. "If you need to go, you better see if you can find somewhere."

Disappointed, I got out of the pick-up. We were deep in the woods, miles from anywhere, and I couldn't even hear another vehicle, however far off. It was incredibly quiet. I walked off behind the main building, looking for what remained of the washrooms.

I tried a rickety door, when to my surprise, it pulled open and a man emerged. He looked about 35, nearly six feet tall, large and wearing heavy jeans. He must have weighed around 200 pounds.

"What are you doing on my property, girlie?" he leered, drinking from a bottle of spirit. "This place belongs to us - to me and my friends - and we don't like trespassers."

"This isn't your property." I backed away. "This is an abandoned service station."

The man followed me. He seemed to have been drinking alcohol. Perhaps he had been smoking something too. I hoped I could outrun him.

"Not so fast, girlie," he slurred. "I'm Jack Oaksey, and I run this place. Before you go, you gotta pay a forfeit..." He made a sudden unexpected lunge forward and caught my arm. I cried out, but couldn't break free.

"That's not nice," he said, trying to drag me back inside the shuttered building. "I think you should be polite, and come in and join our party. Perhaps we can get your girlfriend to come and join in too..."

"No," I said, trying to pull away, but he was a lot stronger than me. "Let me go!"

"Why should I?" he grinned.

"Do as she says."

I gasped with relief to see the tall figure of Karen behind him. She looked really angry.

"Wha..?" He let me go and began to turn.

CRACK! CRACCKK! Two huge blows struck Jack like cannon blasts as he turned around to face Sandwood. For once I was glad of Sandwood's awesome punching power as her long, muscular arms struck home. The twin blows plowed into each side of my assailant's face with the force of a sledge hammer, sending him rocking backward. The first blow sent a spray of blood spurting from Jack's mouth and nose to splatter across the left side of his face. His jaw fell open in shock a millisecond before the second blow hit him. Karen's right-hander hit with appalling force. I almost felt sorry for the guy as her heavy fist wrenched his head around through nearly 180 degrees and his body was sent crashing backward like a felled pine. He slammed hard into the stony ground.

Karen's fists were still tightly clenched, but there was no more work for them to do. Oaksey, if that was really his name, was out cold.

"Looks like I can't leave you for a minute," she said to me, shaking out her hands. "Who is this guy?"

"He wanted to drag me into the building!" I gasped. "He said there were others here."

"We'd better check it out," she said, walking around the outside of the building. Suddenly she took a step back into the protection of a wall. "There's a man coming this way," she said, waving to me me to stand back.

"I'm going to knock this guy out stone cold," she whispered, clenching her big right fist once more. She waited until he had just stepped past the corner of the building, then she took a sharp step forward, her fist at her hip. As she moved, her fist flashed upward and across with enormous force, to deliver a hard right cross to the base of his jaw.

The smack of the blow echoed back from the wall of the main building as if a brick had dropped on to gravel from twenty feet up. The effect of that single impact was shocking. The man groaned darkly as he was hurled across the space between the buildings by the sheer power of Sandwood's blow. I feared he might cry out an alarm, but Sandwood's blow had been too heavy. The groan died as he slumped to his hands and knees, where he wobbled for a moment, before collapsing like a sack of stones to the ground. He was out like a light. Sandwood stepped back from the fallen body, her fist still clenched.

"You hit so hard!" I gasped.

"I worked a long time to get a punch this hard," she said, looking down at her victim. A trail of blood ran from a darkening bruise at the base of his jaw. She unfolded the hand that had laid him out, bent and dragged the unconscious man out of sight behind one of the sheds. He had never even seen who had hit him.

"How many times can you hit like that?" I asked.

"I don't rightly know," Sandwood said, flexing her arm. "Against a punchbag I can generally get in around fifteen blows that hard before I start to tire. One punch doesn't use up a whole lot of my energy, but it can do a shed load of damage..."

"Shall we just get out of here now?" I suggested.

"It might be a good idea," Sandwood said. "But I thought you needed to use the bathroom?"

"No. No. I think the feeling's passed..."

We turned back toward the pick-up in time to see that my first attacker had got back to his feet and had managed to reach our pick-up truck, and had reached a hand through the cab window.

"I think he's got the keys!" I said.

"Stop!" Karen yelled, starting to run toward him. Oaksey fumbled, trying to open the cab door, then changed his mind and fled toward the main building. He ran inside and slammed the door.

Karen reached the door and flung it open, finding herself in a dingy passage. I followed her in through the gloomy corridor until she came to another shut door. This time it was locked, from the inside.

"Open this door," Karen raised her voice, "and bring me the keys you stole. Otherwise I'm going to get pissed."

"Get lost!" Jack's voice came from inside. "Max will be here soon. You better be gone by then!"

"I'm going to count to three," Sandwood said, raising her voice so it could be clearly heard on the far side of the door. "If this door isn't open by then, you're going to be very sorry."

"Kiss my ass!"

"One... Two... Three." Karen counted. She stepped toward the door, drew her right arm well back, and held it poised for a moment as her eyes narrowed. Then she slammed her fist straight into the wooden door.

KRAMMM! Sandwood's fist crashed into the center point of the door with astonishing force. The whole door bowed inward by a full inch as, with a loud crack, the veneered surface split apart. Jagged cracks tore through the surface of the door, running in all directions from the point of impact . Splinters flew everywhere. The noise was deafening.

KAROOOMMM! Before I had a chance to regain my composure, Sandwood's heavily muscled arm had drawn all the way back, and powered in a second time. This time the door did not have the strength left to withstand Karen's blow. Her solid fist smashed right through the body of the door, to emerge on the far side, shattering the two layers of veneer and the chipboard filling between. The whole mid-section of the door just seemed to implode, caving inward in an explosion of splinters and jagged shards. I gasped. There was now a gaping hole where the center of the door had been. From inside came a dull moan of pain.



Karen reached her long arm through the hole, but found no key in the lock. With a "tut" she withdrew her arm, then launched it forward again, this time aiming at the top left hand corner, above the lock.

KERRRACCCKKK!

There was another shower of splinters as what remained of the door was torn apart. The frame sheared away from the twisted lock, which clattered to the floor as the door swung open. Sandwood stepped through the gap.

Inside Oaksey was in no mood for a fight. He'd been cut by the flying shards from the door, and looked totally intimidated by Karen's power. He turned, flew out of the rear door, and began to run. It took Sandwood a moment to take in what had happened, then she set off after him. The guy could run quite fast, but Sandwood's speed was in another class. She looked like an Olympic sprinter as she acelerated, her long legs driving into the ground with solid power. The guy was a hundred yards in front of her, but he seemed to be floundering in comparison. Karen was closing the distance between them with every stride, and she still seemed to be gaining in speed.

I knew how little chance I would have of trying to out run her. I couldn't even run as fast as Oaksey, and Sandwood was outpacing him with ease! She leapt a low fence without breaking stride, cutting down the distance still more. She drew to within twenty yards. Ten. Her left hand stretched out and caught hold of his trailing arm, spinning him round to meet her perfectly-timed right as it connected with the side of his head. I heard the dull crack as Oaksey slumped to the ground in front of her.

Sandwood pulled him angrily back to his feet. Even from where I stood, I could see he was bleeding, and his cheek seemed to be caved in. The tall figure's free arm drew back.

"No!" he pleaded, raising his hands to try to ward off the expected blow. "Please! I don't want any more like that! I'll do whatever you say!"

"Wise man," Sandwood said, her heavy fist still poised. "Just keep on thinking that way. Now hand me those truck keys."

The man obeyed. "How do you hit so hard?"

"I've got good long levers, good muscle tone, and I practice a lot on guys like you."

Sandwood bent and hoisted him up across her shoulder, then she turned and strode back toward me. She was carrying the defeated Oaksey over her shoulder like a side of meat.



Striding straight past me, she carried him toward her pick-up truck. With a heavy crash she dumped him straight into the back . "Make one attempt to move from there," she warned, "and I'll knock you cold."

He lay still, moaning in pain. "You bust my cheekbone!"

"I'll do a whole lot worse if you disobey me again."

"No!" the guy squealed. "You're the boss!"

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Just collecting in the garbage," Sandwood said, striding across to where she'd left the man she'd knocked out earlier. He was still in exactly the same place she'd left him, lying behind one of the outbuildings. He still looked to be out cold as Karen bent, took him up over one shoulder and carried him back to her pick-up. He groaned slightly, beginning to come round as she dropped him heavily into the back beside Oaksey.

"What's going on here?" A loud voice came from behind us. I turned to see a big guy in a white shirt who had just emerged from the woods.

"I'm dealing with some trespassers," Karen said. "Who are you?"

"I'm Max Brady - the guy who owns this place! You're the trespassers here!"

"Those friends of yours attacked me!" I said.

"So what?"

"You don't own this place," Karen strode toward him. "I know who owns every bit of land round here."

Max made to push past Sandwood. A mistake. She planted her hands on his shoulders and shoved him back. I could see he was surprised at her strength as he stumbled five steps backward before drawing to a halt. He must have weighed at least 180 pounds but Sandwood had just halted him and shoved him right back.

Angry, he stormed forward. "I told you to get the hell out of here!"

Sandwood stood her ground. As Brady drew level, she just bent, swept her right hand under his arm, then clamped her left hand about his upper leg.

Startled, he tried to pull himself free, then I saw the muscles swell along her long arms as, with a soft grunt, she lifted his feet right up off the ground!

I gasped in amazement as the185 pound man's body began to rise in Karen's arms. Her biceps swelled into rock-hard cannonballs as they took his weight, raising his legs smoothly up to her shoulder height as they turned his body into the horizontal. Brady gave a bellow of shock, struggling to break free as Sandwood's hands tightened their grip on his arm and upper thigh. But he couldn't escape her steely grip. Karen's face was set firm as she continued to hold him level with her chest.

"Let me go!" he roared.

"Not yet," Sandwood said, as with another soft grunt, she forced her big arms into motion again. I gasped as Brady's body began to rise even higher! Karen was so strong! She just extended her long arms - and Brady's whole body was rising with them! His body was level with her face now - and still he continued to rise! I could see her powerful hands biting into his flesh as he began to moan in discomfort. His body was rising above Sandwood's head now as she continued to push up and up, extending her arms.

The huge shoulder muscles flared into life, taking over from her swollen biceps, pressing his body higher and higher. He rose six, seven, eight feet off the ground as her arms rippled and straightened. I could hardly believe it. It seemed that nothing could resist Karen's powerful arms as they lifted Max's whole bodyweight above her head!

Her arms finally straightened and locked out. And she stood there in front of the cabin with this five-foot ten inch man held above her head! I felt a curious thrill run through me at the sheer power of the twenty-eight year-old! Brady was beginning to feel the pressure now, and started to moan in pain. But Sandwood's long, muscular arms looked irresistable as they held the whole weight of his body firmly overhead.



"Owww! Please! This is hurting!" the big man began to writhe and wriggle on the end of Karen's long arms.

"Keep still!" Karen said. "Or I'll really hurt you!" She stood as straight as a ramrod, her legs like pillars, the muscles rock solid

Still holding him above her head, she began to walk forward. carrying him toward the pick-up truck twenty feet away. With the 180 pound weight of Brady supported on her upraised arms, it took her nearly half a minute to get there. Halting, she drew a breath, preparing to drop him in the back of the pick-up.

"Let go of me, you bitch!" Brady shouted.

Karen frowned, turned to face in the opposite direction, then released her grip, letting her unwilling passenger drop a full eight feet on to the stony ground.

Brady cried out horribly as he fell, landing on his side with a heavy crump.

"Oww Oww! That hurts!" He was writhing in pain on the ground. "I think I broke my shoulder!"

"Get up!" Karen ordered.

"I can't," he cried. "I'm hurt!"

"Okay." Sandwood squatted on her haunches, and lifted him in her strong arms, despite his cries of pain. She cradled him easily, her muscles rippling as she turned and dumped him in the rear of the truck beside the two others. Clambering up after him, she picked up a roll of tarp and wrapped it around the three men, tying it firmly in place. Once she'd finished, she stretched. Then, placing her hands on the cab roof, she vaulted back down to the ground.

"Get in the cab," she ordered me.

Climbing into the drivers seat beside me, she drove off.

"Are you handing them over to the police?" I asked.

She snorted. "I don't have any dealings with the police."

Karen drove steadily along the mountain roads, stopping only when she reached a busy intersection about sixty miles to the south.

Pullling down the rear flap of the pick-up, she untied the heavy tarpaulin sheet to reveal the three injured drifters huddled together in the back. They looked shaken and defeated after their two hour ride. Their bruises had had time to darken and swell, and the full pain of the multiple cuts and broken bones had clearly begun to set in.

"This is where you get out," Sandwood announced, dragging the first man toward her by his heels. Once he was close enough, she took him in her arms, carried him to the edge of the road, and tossed him onto a mass of coarse bracken there. She went back and did the same with the other two men. The guys just lay where she dropped them. They were so hurt and weakened, I doubted whether all three of them together could have given Sandwood any trouble now. She looked every bit as strong as ever, and just as capable of handing out fearsome punishment to anyone who challenged her.

"Now you're going to go far away from here, all three of you," she said. "You're going to leave the state." She pointed. "There's a bus stop a half mile in that direction. I'll be checking back at the garage. And if I find you there again, or anywhere else in this state, I'll really get angry. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." they said.