THE GUARDIANS Chapter 16: Nightingale (EXTRA-LONG CHAPTER!)
Posted August 29th, 2016 by Codename-X12
in a secret bunker finishing the Guardians
today is my bday (14 years on this planet!!) So I thought a good way to celebrate would be an extra-long chapter (over 2 pages!) Enjoy!!
CHAPTER 16: NIGHTINGALE
Shane Corvo (The Predator)
The girls eyes flashed like a flying spark, and two energy lashes whipped toward me like cobras whipping toward their target. I twisted my body backward in a limbo and the the whips knifed the air directly above my face, burning the very oxygen.
Then I collapsed the rest of the way backward, allowing my hands to grip the ground so I was now positioned with my hands and feet on the ground and my head facing upward in a gymnast bridge formation. Then I used my hands to shove off and launch myself into a flying kick at the girl.
She raised her arms to shield herself from the kick aimed at her head, but the impact still knocked her violently into the dust and rubble. I landed in a crouched position, and, seizing my opportunity, flashed my flare gun out of my holster. I flicked it at the girl as she leapt up from the debris she had been knocked into, and fired.
She darted to the side, but the explosion still sent her flying. She raised her head and a look of absolute fury crackled across her face. She was covered in dirt and bits of the wrecked pavement, and a nasty cut scrawled across her cheek. It oozed blood down her chin, giving her the appearance of a vampire who had just had dinner.
With the four lashes whizzing manically like out-of-control saw blades, she leapt into the air and, with powerful swishes of her ebony wings, propelled herself toward us. Brandon raced forward to engage her, and the air around us dropped in temperature as he projected a shadow field in her furious path.
It crackled and hissed with pulsating energy and wherever the golden tendrils struck it, rippled bubbled across it's surface. Brandon groaned in agony and exhaustion, his face losing all color. As the effort sapped energy from his body, the shield began rippling and unstable, and began to fade. The girl's energy whips continued pounding it furiously, searching for a weak point to penetrate.
I leapt from behind the shield and fired a flare at the girl's feet. In a ferocious explosion that rattled the pieces of broken pavement, the girl was knocked a few yards into the air, smoke trailing from flames crackling on her armor.
Brandon quickly swung his hands up to point at her falling form, and another buzzing death ray came to life an inch from his hands. It whirled toward the falling winged figure and the single beam instantly separated into six smaller ones that encircled the girl and began to join together to form the shadow cage.
As the beams widened and the gaps in the cage began to close, Brandon gritted his teeth with effort, his hands shaking uncontrollable. Then, faster than the eye could follow, one of the golden energy whips sprang out through a gap in the forming bubble and darted towards Brandon.
He let out an inhuman shriek of pain as the burning lash sliced viciously across his chest. He collapsed onto his knees in agony as the shadow cage immediately faded. The girl fell to the ground, crawling to her feet. Her skin was so pale now it could have been a blank sheet of paper. She trembled slightly and the energy tendrils wavered as if on low power.
But she didn't attack. She stared at me for a moment and then turned around and took a few steps away, toward the fallen figure of her fellow teammate lying, beaten and bloodied, amongst the ruins. He was the teleporter, the first one put out of action, who I had downed with my flare gun.
I took my chance to check on Brandon. He was lying on his back now, staring in pain and shock up at the blue sky above us.
"You're not dying, right?" I tried to tease him, but he just moaned in response. His jacket had been blazed down the middle and the blackened and burned wound beneath was less than an inch away from his heart.
The heat from the lashes had sealed up the wound, so no blood seeped out, but still, it was pretty bad. Possible ways to treat a gash like this flashed through my mind. If he exerted himself too much and got his heart rate up, gory as it may sound, his heart might burst open the small amount of skin remaining.
"Just stay down," I muttered. But I didn't have to. He had already passed out from the intense pain. I knew it was better to have him knocked out, so I returned my attention to the girl.
She was kneeled over the unconscious figure of the assassin in the reinforced suit and had her hand pressed firmly on his forehead. The helmet had been nearly almost torn to pieces in the past flare explosion, so for the first time I got a good look at his face. He had black hair that was matted with dirt and dried blood, and his face was white as a ghost, probably from lack of blood. Gashes and cuts dotted his face.
But, as I watched, the cuts and scars seemed to be disappearing, disolving away to reveal undamaged skin where there once was a bloody mass of cuts and bruises. In less than a minute, his whole face was restored to what it must have been before I had let him have it.
Then his eyes flicked open, and I saw they were bright green. He was about to stand, but the girl muttered something to him that made him lay back. Now she was quickly healing shredded skin on his arms and a broken leg that hung in a grotesque askew position in the dirt. But as she pressed her hands against it, it straightened slowly until it looked undamaged again.
I tore my eyes away from the scene, knowing Brandon and I had to get out of there before she healed the rest of the enforcers as well. I was about to shake him awake, but thought better of it, and instead, picked him up gingerly in a fireman's carry. He was pretty light, even with my reinforced strength, and I began sprinting away toward the gunship hidden on the roof of the hospital.
After nearly careening over a large chunk of uprooted cement that would probably have finished off Brandon, I made it back to the hospital. Then I repositioned Brandon's limp form so that I could hold him over my shoulder with one hand, and with the other I securely grasped one of the bricks jutting slightly out of the side of the hospital's outer wall.
I heaved and pulled Brandon and myself, with much straining, up onto the flat hospital roof, where my gunship, to my relief, was undamaged. It was still hovering a few yards above the roof, engines on low power mode. I glanced anxiously over my shoulder at destroyed parking lot. I calculated that I had about three minutes to get out of there before the mysterious assailants had recovered enough to come in pursuit.
I opened the gunship's bottom hatchway, and, carrying Brandon with one hand, grasped the lowered cable with the other. I was dragged up through the open hatch, which sealed shut behind me. I dumped Brandon unceremoniously on the lower bunk of the bed, and raced up front to the controls.
The gunship's infrared sensors had picked up five heat signatures coming closer to our location. They had all been healed. I turned the engines off low power and up to their maximum setting, and roared off of the rooftop and up into the sky.
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