PROTOTYPE 11
By Heck



Comments to heck@beadyeye.me.uk

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Bright blue waves lapped gently against a shore of pristine white sands. The
sun blazed in a clear azure sky while gulls wheeled and mewled over the craggy
cliffs.

Lucy ran.

In a pure white bikini that displayed her glorious tanned body to perfection,
golden hair streaming behind her like a tawny banner, her muscles moved with
the fluid grace of a champion racehorse.

I was cradled in her strong arms, safe and secure even though she was racing
over the sands at a breakneck speed. Her powerful limbs enfolded me, keeping
me tight against her perfect breasts, carrying me away to safety. She smiled
serenely at me, love light shining in her deep blue eyes.

Something grabbed my shoulder, and suddenly we were falling, falling.

"Sean! Wake up!"

"Fstzgl? Wazzat?"

"Wake up!" Dressed in her lycra shorts and halter-top, Lucy shook my shoulder,
whispering urgently. "Something's happening!"

I struggled awake, a little irritated at being roused from my beautiful dream,
and sat up.

"What's the matter?"

"Shh! Listen".

I cocked an ear. Banging and crashing, and the sound of raised voices, came
from the direction of old Sherm's living quarters.

"What's that?"

"I don't know", Lucy frowned. "But nothing good, I'm sure".

I slid my legs into my pants and climbed off the bed, giving Rob a kick in the
adjacent bed. He sat up, and I held a finger to his lips for silence before
crossing to the door. I opened it a crack and listened. I couldn't make out
the words, but someone was shouting and it wasn't Sherm. I looked at Lucy with
a raised eyebrow.

"Somebody's giving him a hard time", I said, stating the obvious.

"FBI, do you think?"

"Don't know. Don't think so. They'd be more discreet, wouldn't they?"

Lucy shrugged. Rob came up beside us, yawning and knuckling the sleep from his
eyes.

"'S up, Dude?"

"Listen. Old Sherm's in trouble".

Lucy pushed past me and opened the door wide. I grabbed her arm.

"Lucy! What're you doing?"

"Going to help. That poor old man's in danger".

I tightened my grip to restrain her. Might as well have tried to hold back the
tide. She pulled her arm free with ease and headed off toward the office.

"Lucy! No! Oh, shit!" I swapped glances with Rob, and we both moved out to
follow. A light shone from a window at the rear, where a pane had been smashed
and the sash had been pushed up. We crouched beneath it, letting just our eyes
peer over the cill.

"This is not a good idea", I breathed, but I was ignored. In Sherm's parlour,
three greasy looking thugs, big, pot-bellied, and unshaven in dirty tee-shirts
and jeans, were shoving the old boy from one to the other in a macabre game of
pass-the-parcel. One of them held a twelve-gauge casually in his left hand,
and I caught the glint of a brass knuckleduster on the fist of another.

Sherm himself was in a bad way. His lip and cheek were split wide open and one
eye was swollen shut. Blood from these injuries covered half his face and
poured down the front of his grubby pyjamas. He staggered as they pushed him
round, barely able to keep his feet, but his swollen mouth was set in an
expression of grim determination.

"C'mon, you smelly ol' goat", the man with the shotgun snarled. "We know they
bin here. 'S gonna go hard on you if'n you don't tell us where they're at".

"Don't know nothin'. Ain't sayin' nothin'", Sherm mumbled through his ruined
lips. Knuckleduster man grabbed him by the front of his PJ's and hauled him
close.

"You know you gonna tell us", he growled. "'Cos if'n you don't, you gonna die.
Slow an' painful. 'S that what you want, ol' timer?"

"I know yore daddy, Seb Hogan". Sherm spat blood. "'N you ain't no better'n
him. All on yer. Y'all're sacks o' shit, yore whole goddam' family".

"Why, you ol' ..." Seb drew back his knuckledustered fist.

Lucy stood up. I clapped a hand over my eyes. Here we go. This is where we
die.

"Hello, boys", she purred pleasantly. "Are you looking for me?"

In for a penny. I stood up too.

"And me?" I slapped Rob's shoulder, and he rose as well, albeit reluctantly.

"Uh ... yeah", he muttered.

"Well, looky here, boys". Seb let go of Sherm, and the old man sank gratefully
to his arthritic knees. "Nice of y'all t' join th' party. C'mon in". Seb's
words were reinforced by his brother, who swung the shotgun our way.

I climbed in first. I'm no hero. I was absolutely bricking it at that point,
but if anybody was going to get shot, I was determined it wasn't going to be
Lucy. She followed me, and then Rob, who slid over the sill on his belly
making little groaning sounds.

"Sweet Jesus, she's a looker!" Seb commented. "What say we have some fun afore
we turn her in, boys?" The brothers guffawed, and the only unarmed one rubbed
his crotch suggestively. "Y'all keep 'em covered, Ronny". Seb stepped over
Sherm, landing an unnecessary kick in the old man's ribs as he did so. "Carl
git that damn' hippy up off of the floor".

The third brother seized Rob's skinny arm and hauled him upright, giving him a
shove so that he collided with me. I caught him by the shoulders and frowned
into his face, silently warning him to keep calm.

"Yep". Seb casually folded his arms as he scrutinised us. "Reckon y'all'd be
the ones we'all've bin lookin' for. Yore faces're all over the TV. Now maybe
there's a reward, an' maybe there ain't, but we'all think it's worth the
chance. An' we don't care much if'n y'all're dead or alive". He picked up a
length of rope and tossed it to his brother. "Tie 'em up, Carl".

The shotgun, I thought. That's the biggest threat. If I could kick it away, or
jump Ronny, the others might have a chance.

"Oh, there's no need to tie us up", Lucy said in a silky voice, smoothly
moving a bit closer to Ronny. "We won't make trouble. You've caught us fair
and square". Her intense gaze was on Ronny, holding his eyes with hers. She
smiled and wet her lips with her tongue, swaying even closer. I wanted to
scream at her, wondering what the hell she thought she was up to. "That's a
big weapon you've got, Ronny". The seductive emphasis on the word 'weapon' was
unmistakeable. She slowly stretched out a hand to caress the twin barrels.

"Watch her, Ronny". Seb cautioned. He seemed to be the brains of the outfit,
meaning he probably had an occasional thought that did not involve his groin.
His brother just grinned and nodded.

"Oh, yes, watch me". He hand was stroking the barrels as if they were phallic,
rubbing up and down their black length. The muzzle was almost touching her
belly, and I held my breath. "Watch me. I like it when you watch me".

She had encircled the weapon with her fingers and ran her hand back and forth
like she was masturbating it, her eyes fixed on Ronny, seemingly oblivious to
all else.

I never saw it happen. I was watching intently, but I swear never saw it.

Lucy gave a quick twist of the wrist. There was a groan of tortured metal, and
the hardened material of the gun barrels was suddenly bent at a right angle.
Lucy dropped to her belly.

"What?" Ronny gasped, a stunned expression on his ugly face as he stared at
the impossibly twisted shotgun in his grasp. He took a step back, his fingers
reflexively tightening on the triggers.

The most god-awful boom filled the space, like a physical blow to the ears.

The back-blast flung Ronny across the room, his belly and chest destroyed by
the explosion. He flopped on his back, ribs laid wide open and his viscera
minced, the lower half of his face demolished.

Lucy had covered her head with her arms. Small pieces of shrapnel had pierced
her back, and she was peppered with tiny blood spots, some of it hers, most of
it Ronny's. She sprang lightly to her feet to face Seb, rushing her and
roaring with anger. His brass-knuckled fist swung wildly at her head. Lucy
caught it in her hand with a loud smack, stopping him in his tracks. Her grip
tightened, and I heard the gristly noises of his bones grinding together. Seb
yelled in agony as he sank to his knees.

Leaning sideways, Lucy's leg shot out and took Carl full in the throat. He
gave a tortured wheeze, his larynx crushed, and he collapsed in a heap to
gurgle his life away in the froth of blood that erupted from his mouth.

Seb whimpered, holding up a pleading hand. He had just watched both his
brothers die in less time than it takes to tell, and was anxious not to be the
third. Like all bullies, he was a craven coward when the tables were turned.
Lucy glared at him, and I even felt myself quake at how dangerous she looked.

"You piece of filth". Her voice was deathly calm and quiet. Seb nodded
frantically in agreement. "Coming in here, abusing a defenceless old man,
threatening to kill him. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't do the same
to you?"

Seb mouthed wordlessly. He either couldn't think of a reason or was too
terrified to speak. I favoured the latter.

"You two OK?" It took me a second to realise she was talking to Rob and me. I
was still shaken by the incredible display of strength and seemingly casual
violence this beautiful creature had unleashed. I didn't want to believe she
was capable of it, although I understood that she had had no choice.

"Aye". I found my voice at last. "Aye, we're fine".

"See to Sherm, will you?"

Of course we had to see to Sherm. Why hadn't I thought of that? I was too
stunned by this female powerhouse's fast and, in two cases, permanent
solution, was why.

Rob and I picked Sherm up between us and set him in an armchair. I sent Rob to
see if he could find some clean water and a first aid kit, and knelt on the
floor by the old codger's side.

Lucy was still holding tight to Seb's fist. I didn't think she had broken any
bones, but it would be some time before he regained proper use of the hand.

"I'm not going to kill you", she told him. "Do you know why? Because that
would bring me down to the level of scumbags like you". Privately I was
pleased that she would not, could not, kill him in cold blood. "Sean, can you
fetch that rope?"

I brought it to her. In his desperation, Seb must have found an ounce of
courage from somewhere. Using his free hand, he swung his meaty fist round and
slammed it into her exposed belly. It connected with a sound like a slab of
steak hitting a butcher's block, and about as much effect.

Lucy frowned down at him as he grimaced with shock and clamped his jarred
wrist under his protective armpit. She twisted the fist she held in her hand;
a crack like a pistol shot announced the fracturing of his radius and ulna,
and he screamed aloud in his agony. He curled up in a foetal position as she
released him, sobbing on the floor in his pain and his fear.

We trussed him like a spring chicken and left him lying there. Rob returned
with a bowl of water and some cleanish rags.

"Best I could find", he said. "Couldn't find a first aid box".

"There ain't none, Sonny", Sherm croaked from his chair. "But there's a doctor
in town. Be obliged if'n y'all could let him know I need him".

"Of course", I said.

"Come on, Sherm", Lucy said, slipping her arms under his shoulders and knees.
"Let's put you to bed for now". She straightened and carried him to the
bedroom where she laid him gently on the grubby bed.

"Now I see why y'all're special". Sherm tried to crack a grin, and winced at
the pain in his lips. "Y'all're some kinda gal, shore 'nuff. He-hee! But you
don't hafta worry none on ol' Sherm's account. I said I wouldn't say nothin',
an' still won't. I keep my promises".

"What about those men?" I wondered.

"Yes, Sherm. You'll have to tell the sheriff what happened. You won't be able
to lie about that".

"True, true", the old man mused. "But it were se'f dee-fence, an' I don't know
which way y'all went, do I? Truth is, I reckon y'all must've went back the way
y'all came". He winked. "An' y'all don't want to go in that beat up ol' Ford
o' yourn, neither. Hand me my pants".

"You don't need to put your pants on just now", I said.

"Who said anythin' about puttin' 'em on? Ain't gonna. Jus' hush up, an' gimme
my pants".

Rob found his filthy old dungarees and handed them to him. He fished in the
pockets and came up with a black plastic ovoid. It was a car bipper, and he
gave it to Lucy.

"This here's fer my ol' truck, in the garage out back. Best y'all take it".

"Oh, no, we couldn't".

"Hush yer mouth, now, gal, an' do as yer told. I don't need it. I ain't never
used it in a coon's age, anyhow. Should have a full charge, though, an' it'll
git y'all where y'all're goin'". He rummaged in the pockets again, and
produced a scrap of paper. "Can't never 'member th' start code. Hafta keep it
writ down, else I fergit. Here it is".

"Thank you", I said sincerely.

"Thanks, Old Dude".

"Yes, thank you very much", Lucy smiled. "I don't know what we'd have done
without you".

"Yes, you would, an' there's no need fer no thanks. Y'all saved me from th'
Hogan boys. There's no many as'd do that".

"Yes, but if it hadn't been for us they wouldn't have come".

"Mebbe so. Mebbe so". A twinkle showed in his bleary eyes. "But I ain't been
this close to a purty gal fer years. He-hee!"

I looked at my watch.

"It's three a.m.", I said. "If we leave now, we can be well away before the
sheriff gets here".

"Don't fergit th' doctor", Sherm reminded us. "Ain't got no fancy vidphone or
nothin', so he won't see yer faces when y'all leaves yer message. An' leave
yer car in th' garage. I'll tell th' sheriff y'all left in it".

Lucy leaned forward and dropped a light kiss on his wrinkled old forehead that
made his eyes light up with glee.

"Thanks again, Sherm. We'll never forget you".

"Me neither, missy. Me neither".

While Rob left a message for the doctor I drove the Ford round to the garage,
where it's headlights lit up the battered old doors. I felt a bit of
trepidation. Considering the state of the old timer and the way he lived, what
would his truck be like? Would it get us where we were going?

Wherever that was.

Lucy and Rob joined me, and Rob pushed open the doors.

"Woh! Man! Look at this!"

We all looked. Then we all looked at each other. Then we all smiled.

The truck was an immaculately shining Toyota crew-cab pick-up, top of the
range, no more than a year old, in metallic red livery and gleaming retro-
look chrome. Permanent four-wheel drive, with huge fat tyres that would take
us virtually anywhere, on or off road. Rob threw himself on the hood and
hugged it.

"Oh, I love you, I love you!"

Lucy and I sniggered. She thumbed the bipper, and the locks released with a
satisfying 'thunk'.

"I want to drive!" Rob said like an excited kid. "Let me drive, man!"

"We'll all get a turn", I said. "But for now, for being the heroine of the
hour, I think Lucy should drive".

She blessed me with a radiant smile and hopped into the cab. Having instantly
memorized the start code, she keyed it in and the big truck's powerful motor
came to life with a deep, masculine thrum.

By daybreak, we were a hundred and fifty klicks away, and still going.