|The Vandals: Ch II Run, You Can Run
Author: The Last Raconteur PM
The second issue script for the ongoing series "The Vandals"Rated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Supernatural - Words: 5,622 - Published: 10-04-12 - id: 3063188
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Run, You Can Run
"Look," Chris drummed his fingers against the leather of the arm rest. "I'm not saying I think anyone is going to get killed or anything. I just mean, it was fine when we added Brian and Greg. Those two guys have been a huge help. But eight is a lot more unruly than six."
Dillon shrugged. "I don't see how. It's two more people, not a dozen."
The engine reared as Chris eased off the clutch, catepolting the car around the curve of the hill. "It's two more people, that I don't fucking know shit about, that I have to watch out for, and when the shit hits the fan, trust to have my back. I don't like it."
"You didn't bitch like this when we added Brian and Greg to the group." Dillon rolled down his window and motioned for Chris to slow down.
The clutch gave a mild squeak as Chris pressed it and the break in. "That's because I got an opportunity to find out something about the two of them before we just went and said, 'you can totally be part of the group.'"
Dillon shrugged. "I dunno. I like the idea that we're growing. It means we're more likely to be everywhere we need to be. Remember there is strength in numbers."
The car slowed to a stop, and Chris engaged the blinkers.
"So you don't trust them?" Dillon asked.
He shook his head. "I don't know." He shrugged. "I mean, I know it's dumb, but a big part of being in the group is the car, man. And they drive a freaking 1980 Oldsmobile."
"It's a car Chris." Dillon said dryly.
"I know." He pointed to the side of the hill through Dillon's open window. "Look like anything we're supposed to be on the lookout for?"
"Nah." Dillon said. "just where some poor bastard went over the edge again." He opened his door and got out. "We need some guard rails up here."
Chris raised his hand and held stock still, one foot out of the driver side door. "Did you hear that?"
Dillon cocked his head to the side. "What?"
Chris shushed Dillon. "Listen."
Off, a few hundred yards down the hill, a scratching was emanating from a pile of brush.
"It's probably just a deer, dude." Dillon walked around and reentered the car.
Chris shook his head. The engine, still idling made the scratching almost imprecieveable.
The duo rolled down the hill further, slowly, surveying the side and edge of the hill.
"So what exactly are we looking for again?" Dillon asked.
Chris tossed Dillon the sketch pad off the dashboard. On it was a rough drawing of what looked like a man crossed with a tiger, and a small bit of description. "The Pyrenees Tiger."
"The hell is that?" Dillon turned the page over to see another sketch.
Chris slowed again to survey another apparent former crash site. "You ever heard of the Basque?"
Dillon raised an eyebrow. "The what?"
"The Basque." Chris replied. "They're this ethnic group in Spain, stuck up in the Pyrenees."
"And they have what to do with this Tiger-man thing?" Dillon placed sketch book back onto the dash.
Chris, finally feeling that it may be time to head farther down the hill, put the car into a higher gear, and screeched off. "Well, as tends to be the case, the Spanish ethnic group at large-"
"So the white guys that Isabella sent over here to fuck shit all to hell?" Dillon laughed.
"Those guys." Chris slowed down, and began to slowly cost again. "They have a long history of trying to stomp out the Basque because the Basque people refuse to give up their totally unique language, culture, and identity."
Dillon put his feet out the window. "I feel like I've heard this story before…"
"The Spanish have been taking all kinds of steps, for centuries, to get rid of them. Many of these steps have involved killing."
"I'm with you so far." Dillon replied.
"Well the story goes that in the late 1400's the Spanish had decided to once and for all wipe out the Basque people. Being outnumbered, but hidden well in the Pyrenees, the Basque turned to some sort of ancestral magic to summon their protector. What they pulled out of God-only-knows-what dimension is this Pyrenees Tiger. So the Tiger fends off the Spaniards, kills off their men one at a time in the night until they just give the fuck up and go home. But it wasn't done. It kept killing anyone that got near those mountains that wasn't pure Basque. This, obviously, was a bit of a damper in respect to their trade with the French. So, eventually, the Tiger gets lured into a crate, and shipped off."
"Oh don't even say what I think you're going to." Dillon said with a chuckle. "Really? They sent it here on Columbus maiden voyage?"
"Yep." Chris replied. "It was the bane of the Bahamas for centuries until it found its way to Mexico, and then it got driven out by the Chupecabras. It's been spotted here for a few months now, but Jack didn't want to check it out till he was sure."
"How do you kill it?" Dillon again motioned for them to stop, this time paying a moment's respect to a cross that was on the side of the road.
Chris let out a sigh. "Well, ranchers in Mexico claimed that the electric fences on their property seemed to slow it way down. Other than that, no one knows."
"Electricity." Dillon lit an arc between his fingers. "I knew it wasn't my charming personality that you were interested in.
Chris heaved out a heavy laugh. "Nah, your looks are more than enough."
As they picked up speed again the sun finally set behind them. As Chris whipped around a corner a pair of glowing eyes was staring him in the face from down the hill.
"Must have put up a new guard rail on this part." Chris quipped.
"Mmhm" Dillon concurred.
As they neared, Dillon pulled in his feet and sat forward. "Do those eyes look like their moving to you?"
"Yeah." Chris replied. "Maybe it's the bumps in this shitty Oklahoma road."
At that moment they hit a pot hole, the dip causing the headlights to shine fully over the body that belonged to the eyes.
"The Tiger." Chris said slowly. "Light the bitch up!"
Chris slammed on the gas pedal, chasing after the creature that was now running from them.
Dillon removed his seat belt, leaned out the passenger side window and began launching lightning strikes at the creature. "Can't you drive in a straight line?"
Chris swerved to miss a cat running across the road, twisting hard around the bend as he did. "Can't you aim straight?! Hurry up and hit the damn thing!"
As Chris's shouting continued Dillon finally managed to graze the Tiger's left arm. It cried out and then dropped down to all fours, gaining a burst of impressive speed as it did.
"Well…" Dillon said getting back into the car as the wind in his face become too much to bare. "Electricity seems to hurt it."
Chris nodded, turning up the radio as "Crossroads" by Cream came to its guitar solo. "That's great. Now all we got to do is catch it!"
"Well, get on it! You're the one driving!" Dillon retorted laughing.
Chris smirked. "I will," He slapped the dashboard endearingly. "because I drive a real car, not an Oldsmobile from the era of 'Flash Dance!'"
"Does this still feel strange to you?" Devin asked cranking down the window and leaning over the edge, watching the road roll by underneath the wheels.
"Huh?" Devon replied. "Does what feel strange?"
Devin shrugged. "This whole 'taking orders, being part of a team, working towards a common goal' thing."
Devon drummed his hands on the wheel a few times. "Nah. At first it was a little strange but I like the idea of not being out here all alone."
Devin pulled himself back in, refastening his seat belt. "Yeah, it is nice to know that if we bite off more than we can chew we've got someone to have our back."
"Pfft!" Devon scoffed. "Bite off more than we can chew? No such thing." After a Jay and Silent Bob style fist bump Devon continued. "But I get what you're saying."
"It's kinda crazy." Devin said.
"What is?" Devon slowed down to stop at the first stop sign they had seen in hours.
Devin pulled at is jacket sleave for a moment. "Well just look at the guys in this group. It's kinda crazy to think that all those different abilities sprang from red dirt."
Devon raised an eyebrow. "Do not ever, ever, say the words "red dirt" in that context again."
"Deal." Devin said. "It felt awkward as all hell." The trees and rocks out the window zipped by in an unbroken chain of green and grey.
"Is it bad that Greg freaks me out a little bit?" Devon asked.
"Nah, I feel you." Devin replied. "He just Obi Wan's people. It's trippy. Jack seems cool though. Especially for a guy that can turn into a giant lizard thing with wings."
"I swear," Devon said. "it's like working with the bizzaro world Avengers." He leaned forward and looked up out of his windshield. "Seen anything yet?"
Devin shook his head. "I'll be perfectly honest with you, I've been staring at the ground for about half of this car ride."
Devon let out a laugh. "Some things never change."
"Truth." Devin retorted. "Just like us."
Devon nodded. "I figure you and I are stuck together forever." Devon stopped at another stop sign. "Chinese fire drill." He flung the door open.
"Why?" Devin asked sliding into the driver's seat.
"I drove all the way home from Kansas City, while your lazy ass slept. I'm tired of driving." Devon sat down in the passenger side.
"Not my fault you didn't buy a car with cruise control." Devin grumbled.
Devon punched him in the shoulder. "At least I have one."
"This rattle trap is nothing to be proud of." Devin replied. "Now Jack's car…that thing is a thing of beauty."
Devon raised an eyebrow. "Do you need a moment to yourself, or can you press the gas pedal now?"
Devin pressed on the gas, and with a jolt the car shot forward. "I hate this stupid car, but I must say, it sure does move."
"That it does." Devon replied.
A few moments of silenced passed that were shortly broken by a loud screeching.
"Big Bird?" Devon asked laughing. He stuck his head out of the window, only to pull it back in at the last second. A huge human-bird hybrid swooped in, narrowly missing Devon's head.
"You missed me, you overgrown chicken!" Devon shouted after it.
"So what's the plan?" Devin asked.
Devon turned to him. "I thought you had come up with a plan. I don't do plans. I turn into a rock or steel or something, and hit shit."
Devin sighed, veering to miss another swoop. "Ever the scholar, right Devon?" Devin looked down at the speedometer.
"Not gonna lie." Devon said. "I wasn't even sure this thing would be able to do eighty without falling to pieces."
"Thank you for telling me that now!" Devin replied.
"So, how do we kill this thing? Do we even know that? " Devon asked.
In Devin slammed hard on the breaks bringing the car to a stop. The Bird-man had landed in the highway in front of them and was staring at them.
"Brother Raven is an ancient Native American trickster spirit." Devin said. "You can't actually kill it."
"Well then what do we do?" Devon asked. "We can't just let it keep killing people."
"Well, according to Jack, if we cut out its heart that will force the spirit off this mortal coil until it is called again." Devin replied.
The duo stared into the birds eyes.
"So, ground it, then cut out its heart?" Devon swaggered. "We got that. We got the hell out of that!'
"Right…" Devin said, gripping steering wheel and holding eye contract with the Trickster.
"Gun it?" Devin asked.
Devon shrugged. "Better than anything I could have come up with."
Devin slammed down on the accelerator and charged at the unflinching Raven. At the last second it shot into the air.
"Holy shit!" Devon shouted. "Did you see that?!"
"Nope. Wasn't looking that direction." Devin spat.
As they shot down the highway, another loud screech came from behind them.
"Is it chasing us?" Devon turned around. "Holy fuck, it's chasing us." Devon turned back around, astonished. "What the hell do we do now?"
Devin shrugged. "Dude, I don't exactly have a lot of experience in this department." Devin stopped and thought for a moment. "Hell, I don't even have a driver's license!"
Devon slapped his forehead. "I know that. We also don't have a vigilante's license either!" He grabbed the wheel and swerved to avoid hitting a possum.
"Think fast!" Devon shouted. " That thing is getting closer!"
Devin slammed on the breaks, brining the car to a screeching halt, bouncing Devon's forehead against the dashboard. The trickster, unable to stop, flew on overhead.
"Good enough for you?" Devin asked.
Devin rubbed his head. "Fuck you."
Devin took off again. "You still have that spotlight in the backseat?"
"Yep." Devon fished around in the back seat and pulled out a small spotlight and plugged it into the cigarette lighter. "What ya thinking?"
"Blind him, bring him down, and then cut out his heart." Devin replied. The screeching of the trickster was becoming louder again.
Devon leaned out the window once again, this time with spot light in tow, and flipped the on switch. The light beam shot forth, illuminating the whole of the trickster.
"You going to blind him or what?" Devin asked.
Devon shouted back. "What? I can't hear you!"
Crossroads, now blaring out of the radio, Devin retorted, "Never mind." Devin snorted. "Don't lose your head for god's sake."
Brian and Greg each had an arm hanging over their respective windows, laughing. The big bodied Cadillac seemed to shake from the force of it.
"Ok, ok, I see what you're saying." Brian said. "But Johnny? He just sits there eighty percent of the time when we're planning. You can't get him to shut up any other time, but when it comes to the important stuff, he just clams up!"
Greg waved his hand and gave a "Well, ya know" expression. "I dunno. But Jack thinks it's a good idea, whatever Johnny's big plan for tonight is, so let's just go with it. Worst comes to worst, we just ask Jack what to do."
"Man," Brian heaved a final giggle and then took a moment to breathe. "I love our job."
"Pay sucks." Greg retorted.
Brian shrugged. "So does your mom, yet we don't go brining that up to kill my zest for life, now do we?"
"Bite me." Greg retorted, turning on the radio. "Learning to Fly" by the Foo Fighters jumped forth from the speakers.
"I bet it's cool to fly." Greg mused.
"Seems like we're the only two that can't." Brian ran his fingers through is hair. "I bet it is great. Johnny always seems less 'I'll pull out your throat' after he's gone out and flown about a bit."
"Devin and Devon can't fly." Greg replied. "But you're right. Jack always seems a hell of a lot calmer when he comes back."
They drove on for a few more minutes listening to the track play until Greg began to speak again. "You know, I'm pretty excited."
Brian slowed down to examine a burn mark on the side of the road. "You finally get whats-her-face to agree to going on a date with you?"
Greg let out an exhale so soaked in sarcasm in stung his own throat. "No. Jerk. I'm excited to see the group getting bigger. I mean, I think we might be able to start doing some real good. It's one thing for it to be six of us out here trying to stop some chaos demon or a vampire or something. It's another thing altogether now!"
Brian chuckled. "It is changing pretty quickly." He picked up his speed. "But it's just one multi-front operation. It's not like we're going to start running all over the planet and saving the world. That's a bit out of our pay grade."
"Well yeah, but I'm not talking worldwide. I'm not even talking nationwide." Greg reached under the seat and pulled out a binder filled with randomly sized pages. "I'm just saying, we could be a regional protectorate."
"I suppose so." Brian ran his hand through his hair. "So, what do you think of this plan of Johnny's anyway?"
Greg began flipping through the pages. "Damned if I know. If it works then I would have to say I'd be a little surprised."
"Why?" Brian asked.
Greg continued flipping. "Johnny never says word one when we're planning missions. He just leans against the wall and stares at the map." Greg stopped on a page. "Honestly I find it freaky."
"Ah." Brian said.
Greg read for a few moments. "Did you know that in 1689 the Devil and Death were seen fighting inside a church in France? They brawled so furiously that the building shook to pieces. The fight was so horrid that the site has been unhallowed ground since then and cannot produce any flaura."
"Weird." Brian replied. "Anything in there about what we're looking for?"
"I can't remember what we're looking for." Greg said after a few seconds
Brian fished around on the dashboard, slowing the car to a low idle. "Ah here it is." He pulled of a piece of paper. "It's called a Luna Mulier."
"Luna Mulier… Luna Mulier….Ah." Greg flipped until he found the correct page. "It says here that the Luna Mulier is the spirit of a woman, often seen on the side of a road, looking for a ride."
"So she's a woman in white?" Brian asked. "Why can't they just call it like it is?"
Greg shot him a terse glance. "Let me finish." He cleared his throat. "The women are the ghosts of those who were murdered by their spouse in life, and in death, hitch rides and kill any men that are unfortunate enough to pick them up."
"…fuck." Brian said, slamming on the breaks.
Greg continued reading. "What? Why'd you stop?"
"Greg…" Brian said. "Look up."
Greg raised his head to see that there, on the side of the road, stood a woman dressed in a little black dress, thumb out, asking for a ride. At her side were two suitcases.
"What do we do?" Greg asked.
Brian through up his hands. "How the fuck should I know? I don't exactly go cruising for ghost chicks on a weekly basis."
"So then you're not getting any at all? Called it." Greg cracked.
"Now?" Brian hissed. "You want to do this now?"
Greg shook his head. "No, but I have no clue what to do. None."
Brian slowly inched the car forward, stopping next to her. "Get in the back seat." He whispered.
"What?" Greg asked.
"Get in the back!" Brian pushed Greg over the back of the seat. As Greg righted himself, Brian reached across the seat and opened the door.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Greg asked.
Brian shook his head, smiling. "Nope." He said through gritted teeth. "How else are we going to get her there?"
"She kills men!" Greg said, squeaking. "And unless you need to tell me something, that includes both the occupants of this car."
The woman smiled back at Brian. "Hon, I'm in terrible need of a ride into town. Care to give me a lift?"
"Hop in." Brian said.
The woman tossed her luggage over the backseat onto Greg and entered the car.
"So," Brian asked. "What are you doing hitching? That seems a little dangerous for someone like yourself."
"Brian!" Greg hissed from under the luggage. "I thought you said you didn't pick up ghosts!"
"Shuddup." Brian snapped.
"Dangerous?" The woman let out a laugh. "For me? Never. I'm the one they've got to look out for."
"So we've heard." Greg muttered, his voice covered instantly by the sound of Cream's mighty rhythm section as Brian cranked the radio.
The woman stretched. "Take me to Sonic, babe?" She let out another laugh. "I'm feeling puckish and a vanilla Coca-Cola sounds divine."
"Sure." Brian said taking off. "No problem."
"I am officially third wheel on a ghost date." Greg muttered. "Just don't get me killed, Brian."
"Son of a bitch!" Johnny yelled as he gripped the overhead handle. "Jack, I know you're getting on in years, but for the love of God don't take your best friend to the grave with you!"
The car shot over the small hill and hit the ground running. "No worries little brother, I don't plan on either one of us biting the dust in the near future."
Johnny let out a cackle. "If we did have the same parents I would be greatly concerned over my own safety!"
The duo let out an extended triad of insults before returning to the task at hand. " So," Jack said, sliding around a curve. "What is this thing exactly, boss."
"Don't call me boss." Johnny said leaning out the window and shout an obscenity at a driver Jack passed. "You're in charge. I'm just deciding how all of us are going to go about almost dying tonight."
"Well don't be positive about it or anything." Jack said. As he spoke lightning struck in front of the car, the light splashing off the freshly waxed baby blue paint job, blinding them for a few moments.
"An answer sometime today might actually save our lives, so," Jack swerved to miss another strike. "hurry the fuck up!"
"Ok, ok, don't have a fucking conniption fit." Johnny flipped through the pages of the book in his lap until he came to the correct one. "It's a Distortion. They're demons that possess humans and turn them into walking abominations to man. They possess great power over the elements, namely those involved in weather, speed, and strength."
"That would explain why he can outrun a 72 Lesabre." Jack quipped.
Johnny laughed. "Yes, that or PCP would explain that feat. However, back to the task at hand-"
As Johnny spoke a lightening bolt struck the roof of the car, nearly sending them off the road.
"Shit he's got good aim!" Jack said. "I swear if he does that again I'm gonna get out, fly after him, and rip his head off."
Jack swerved again, this time to miss a squirrel
"Really?" Jonny asked throwing his hands in the air and trying to grab at the book that had gone flying.
Jack shrugged. "I don't kill innocent tree cats if I can help it."
Johnny finally managed to get his hands back on the book and flip to the next page. "For Christ sake Jack, can you please just drive in a straight line for a second?!" Johnny read for a moment.
"What?" Jack asked, again swerving.
Johnny again stuck his head out the window. "Can you even see the damn thing?"
"No." Jack, sensing the urgency put the pedal to the floor. "Why? Why 'bollocks?'"
Johnny slowly turned to look at Jack as he gripped the overhead handle again. "The part that talks about killing a Distortion is blotted out by a coffee stain."
"Damn right 'oh fuck.'" Johnny replied. "How close do you think you can get?"
"Close enough, why?" Jack replied, dodging several lightning strikes.
"Get me in close, I'll jump off the hood, and drag the guy straight up, and then just drop him. If he's in a billion pieces and splattered against the pavement he can't exactly do that much harm." Johnny replied.
Jack took his hand off the shifter and smacked Johnny in the forehead. "No."
"Ow!" Johnny shouted. "Why not?" He rubbed his forehead. "It seemed like a sound plan to me."
"Johnny," Jack said, downshifting and then shooting the car over and off a hill. "You can't just assume that this thing can be killed by being dropped on its head. There's a decent chance that you'll only make it mad."
Johnny thought for a few seconds. "Then what do we do?"
"Think Johnny!" Jack said just as a fireball roared over their heads. "He's getting angrier, and you know the answer! Think of everything I've taught you!"
"Jack!" Johnny shouted as the car was rocked by another direct lightning strike. "Just fucking tell me!"
"No!" Jack shouted, "You have to have learned something! Apply it!"
"Why won't you just tell me!?" Johnny was irate.
Jack swerved in between two cars and barely missed a third. "Because! I'm going off to college and retiring! You're going to have to take over!"
"What?" Johnny's voice dropped low. "You're leaving?"
"Johnny, for Christ sake don't do this now. We're busy trying not to die, you can't do this now."
"Why?" Johnny was unbuckling his seatbelt.
"You guys have to learn to be off on your own. I'm three years older than all of you. I can't stay here once high school's over. It'll draw too much suspicion and I want a life outside of midnight trench runs against a goddamn demon!" Jack slammed his hand against the dash. "Now, for the love of God, what have I always told you?!"
Johnny thought for a moment. "Lesson one: salt, iron, and silver." Johnny replied. "Think it'll work?"
Jack shrugged. "Well that or we just run him to death, your choice. Which one would you prefer we try?"
"Jack." Johnny was quiet again, even amongst the rampant turns and jumps. "I…I'm scared."
"Why?" Jack slowed, just for a second, then gunned it again. "If it's because of the si-"
Johnny shook his head. "No." He rolled the window back down. "I just don't know what we're gonna do without you."
"You'll do what you have to. And you do it well." Jack patted him on the shoulder.
All talking ceased for just a few seconds. Then Johnny opened the glove box. Inside was a pair of knuckle dusters, each made of black and silver metals, coated in a clear substance.
"I gotta give Brian one thing. The silver and iron knuckle dusters coated in salt was a good idea." Jack said.
"I'm just glad he remembered not to make the part facing in out of that crap. Not to mention the brass is just easier to hold onto." Johnny slipped his arms out of jacket and put his hands into the finger holes.
"Good luck." Jack said. As he did he turned the radio over a few stations and let it land on Clapton quoting Robert Johnson's ode to his Devil deal.
Johnny laughed. "Luck? Since when do we have that?"
Johnny climbed out the window and made his way onto the hood of the car. He stood up and looked back at Jack.
"You gonna jump or think about jumping?"
Johnny mouthed the words "Bite me" and the then jumped off into the darkness.
At the crossroads of Main and the mother road, four cars came screeching to a halt, stalling sideways, blocking empty streets, in the middle of them stand three figures all back to back. Before anyone in the cars can react another figure lands next to the Sky Blue muscle car.
"Johnny?" Jack shouted getting out his car. Across from him Johnny waved. "What the hell happened?"
"Well, I managed to hit him, but I hit him so hard the dusters broke. So I'm guess silver, salt, and iron aren't his kryptonite."
Dillon and Chris stepped out of their car and eyed the Tiger. It stood tense, waiting to pounce at someone. Devin and Devon stared down Brother Raven.
Lastly, after what seemed like forever, the door to Brian's Cadillac shot open, with Brian and Greg being thrown out, followed by the Luna Mullier.
"What's the plan?" Jack asked.
John thought for a second, praying the tension lasted. "Over, under?" John asked. Jack nodded.
Brian and Greg picked themselves up. "We're fine." Brian said. "Thanks for asking."
After a few more brief seconds, Johnny, and with the rest of the group started to slowly circle the four creatures. When he stood directly behind the Distortion he let out a shout, and with it he and Jack ran at the Distortion. Johnny dove and drove his shoulder into the back of the creature's leg and Jack, already changed into his more reptilian state, planted a clothesline directly into its throat and then flew off into the air. With that the pandemonium broke out.
The Tiger pounced on Dillon, nearly ripping his head off. As it did Dillon lit up the creatures stomach with a huge arc of electricity, stunning it.
"Little help!" He shouted. As the words left his lips Chris planted a glowing red fist on the chin of the Tiger, releasing the energy bolt as he did, sending the creature flying back.
Chris pulled Dillon to his feet, in time for them to see Johnny kick the Distortion in the jaw, causing it to launch a misplaced bolt, stunning the Tiger. Taking advantage of their opening Dillon and Chris began punching the Tiger back and forth between the two of them, arcs on Dillon's fists, and raw red energy on Chris's.
"How are we supposed to kill a demon ghost woman thing?" Greg asked from behind Brian. "Stop!" He shouted at the Luna Mulier. "I don't get it! She's a human's ghost this should be working on her!" Brian threw a sound wave at her only for it to dissipate as it touched her.
Standing behind the Luna Mulier, Brother Raven stared eyeball to eyeball with Devin as he launched whip of vine after whip of vine with no result, each one being dodged easier than the last. Trying again, as Brother Raven ducked the vine clasped onto the Luna Mulier pulling her down. As she fell Brian's latest sound wave struck Brother Raven in the back, driving him to his knees.
"Switch?" Brian shouted to Devin.
"Switch!" Devin shouted back. Both groups ran and switched places before either monster could regain its footing.
When brother Raven returned to his upright position, Brian tossed another sound wave knocking him backwards into the Luna Mulier.
"Your heart is nothing!" She screamed, thrusting her hand into his chest and pulling it out. As she did, Brother Raven vanished.
"We got one!" Brian shouted.
"Honey," The Mulier said slyly. "You don't have anything, or at least you won't." With one broad swoop, Brian, Greg, Devin and Devon were all pinned against a nearby concrete barrier, held in place by an unseen grip.
Seeing the Distortion off balance, Johnny ran and tackled it, driving it into the concrete. As soon as he gained his composer, Johnny began to rain down punches onto the face of the Distortion.
"I have no idea how to kill you, but I figured this was as god a place as any to start!" After a few punches the knuckle dusters had turned to dust. A few moments later the Distortion managed to blast Johnny in the face, sending him sprawling backwards.
"Boy, you should know better than to meddle with something as powerful as demons." The Distortion stood and began drawing energy, rearing up to finish Johnny off with one final blast of electricity. Just as it looked like the monster was about to strike, Jack, diving in from the sky, knocked the demon off shot, again causing him to hit the Tiger, this time, however, the Tiger burst into ash and flames.
Not realizing that their foe was dead in time, Dillon and Chris's final punches managed to knock each other out.
"Balls!" Jack landed next to an unconscious Johnny. "Get up!"
"I'm going to enjoy pulling your heart out, hypnotist. I like seeing what makes complex men tick!" the Luna Mulier gave out a soft laugh.
"Turn around." Greg labored out, still bound against the wall.
Though she had been able to shrug off most of Greg's other commands, his desperation had given him just enough power to make her turn around, and see another man standing, having and cursing his electrified hands.
"You!" She teleported directly in front of the Distortion, and without a word ripped its heart from its chest.
With her powers and attention diverted Devon and Devin were able to wiggle free. With her back turned Devon snuck a vine up her legs, binding her in place.
"What the hell?" She turned around in time to see a wooden fist coming for her.
As Devon connected, she dissipated, turning into fog and releasing her hold on Brian and Greg.
"We have got to find and burn her bones." Brian said, heaving.
Greg nodded, still unable to catch his breath.
Johnny pulled himself to his feet, his face healed. "Let's go home."
Jack nodded. "You did good."
Johnny smiled. "Lesson number two: The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
Jack smiled. "Yeah," He coughed. "Unless that enemy is the chick that owns the creepy bookstore, then just stay out of her way."
Johnny laughed. "Unless you feel like spending a weekend trying to find a way out of that place." He looked up at the sky.
Jack tossed Johnny the keys. "You drive."