On the darkest of nights, in the deep forest, a Unicorn wandered the path toward Neverland. It was a beautiful scene, it really was, I just didn’t expect it to be bursting through the morgue’s wall. But there it was and I knew it at once. It was Marv’s van.

“Mog?” I called and glanced around for the munchkin.

“I’m dead. Call me Casper,” Mog groaned, and I saw her dust-covered form sit up in the low red taillights of the Sumo mobile.

“Can you move?” I called, then yelped as I tried to move my right leg.

“You sound like you got another beat down,” Mogwai crawled over the debris, still coughing, and looking worse for wear.

”Who blocked out the exit?”

A horrible ripping sound made me think of those bodies again and compelled I looked back at the Migo with dread.

Dread turned to horror once more as I saw the demon pulling itself apart. The damn thing sprouted some arms from somewhere, four of the ugly things, and it was pulling itself free from the bulbous rear end and inching its way toward us.

“No, no, no…” I heard someone say, then realized it was me. Drawing The Judge, I opened up. With each hammer fall, another 220-grain bullet slammed into the monster’s flesh and blossomed as the nickel casing became a daisy of death.

Chunks of flesh came from the Migo Demon wasp, pale, putrid chunks that hit the floor and splattered with a wet sloppy sound that reminded me of vomit. As massive as the damage appeared, however, all my effort seemed in vain, as it just seemed to let the demon escape its fleshy prison easier.

The Migo locked in on its prey, and as it freed itself, it rushed full force at Mog, and all I could do was scream, “No! Come here, come at me, damn it!”

Popping open The Judge, I let the spent cartridges fall to the ground as I felt for a speed loader, “It has to be here somewhere!” I said and even I could hear the desperation in my voice.

“Mog run!” I screamed, but she just stood eyes wide and confused. Seemingly totally unfocused as she gazed back toward the mural on the van. Maybe the stress had finally done her in, maybe it was the insanity that felt like it was looming over my shoulder and tapped hers instead, but she just stood there smiling dreamily.

Then it struck me, I had one round left. Feeling around for it in my pants pocket was like working a Chinese finger puzzle and the Migo was near Mogwai!

The round came to my fingers like magic, and with years of practice under my belt, the round found its home like it was tucking itself in for the night. The Migo, however, wasn’t resting and I knew there was no way I could stop it in time.

“MOGWAI!”

The Migo leaped at her as I screamed, and the certainty of her death was crashing into me when something larger crashed into the Migo, “MARV?”

Legs pumping Marv carried the Migo back and slammed it into a wall with the force of every bit of his more than three hundred pounds. A mortal man would have died from that impact, but the Migo wasn’t done.

As Marv Sumo slapped the wasp over and over again, it darted its head in at him, doing anything to get its mandibles on him, and even from where I stood, I could see the venom dripping, inky black and thick. Marv wasn’t having it. Each time the creature darted its head forward Marv slammed it back hard into the wall. Each time it tried to push in back, Marv slammed his hand into the side of its head.

“Hold it still!” Mogwai suddenly screamed and crawled under the massive man’s arms, her little pink thermos cup in hand. For a second Marv just held it there, and a second was all it took before Mogwai had several drops of venom.

“Get back!” I screamed and Mog and Marv both took the hint. With one more shove, Marv pushed off the creature, and that opening was all I needed.

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The round struck the Migo dead in the right eye, and its head came apart as the super-expender round opened up inside its skull.

**

“How?” I asked as Marv dusted off his oversized Hawaiian shirt and smiled just a little.

“The Cowboy called, he said you went on a job and needed your old partner,” he said and looked around the demolished room.

“Glad I didn’t bring a sandwich. I don’t think I could eat after this.”

Hobbling over to him I embraced the man in a huge hug, holding on to him like he was my last lifeline for safety and sanity, “I thought we were all dead, I thought maybe Cam would escape, but Mog and I were toast.”

“Who is Cam?” Marv asked and looked around the destroyed room.

I laughed a little, “He’s the sasquatch, he should be over near Mogwai’s Jeep, come on let’s go find him,” I said and let Marv help me get out of the ruined building.

Outside, the chaos had just begun. Whether it was the Chort Bikers or the Agents that arrived first, I had no clue, but their arrival was a catalyst for the eruption of small arms fire. I shrank back against the noise and deadly barrage all around, and once more covered my ears.

Chort ran. They moved quicker than any human could, bouncing to the side as they sprinted straight out. It was like watching experts in parkour, but their fancy moves weren’t enough to stop the bullets from ripping them apart.

As I watched, the half-naked Nannie Chort raised her hands. She was surrendering, but it was leaving her full breast exposed, and that just made her an easy target. Two rounds hammered her in the heart, and she went down like so much wasted flesh.

“I told you to forget this world,” a commanding voice said evenly. To my astonishment, Agent Smith was standing above me with his hand outstretched.

Trembling, I grabbed his hands and allowed him to help me to my feet. He was cold to the touch, and the hard edge that had annoyed me so much the day we met was much less annoying as he pulled me out through the hole in the wall they’d just made beside me.

“This was not your lucky day, Ms. Remington,” Smith said as he looked around at the chaos. He was dressed in the same black suit or one just like it, as the night we met, but for some reason, there wasn’t a mote of dust on him anywhere. Even his hair was perfect, but that wasn’t the same for his people.

My eyes followed his glances and I took it all in for myself. Everywhere Chort was being slaughtered. Agents all dressed like Smith, but most were covered in the dust even as they blasted Chort with shotguns or, it seemed burned with an advanced flame thrower.

I heard a scream, an all too human scream, and saw Mogwai, thermos in hand rush out of the building rubbing her eyes. Once outside, she fell, rolling on the ground like someone on fire. “MOG!” I screamed and started for her, but Smith grabbed me and pulled me roughly back.

“She will be fine, I promise you,” he said and sure enough Mogwai pulled herself up behind the corner of the building and huddled there.

“Wow! Don’t you need a warrant or something?” Sophie shouted as an agent pulled her out into the open. “Chort have rights too!”

I almost expected her mouth to grow closed and Smith to say something like, “You can’t have rights if you can’t speak.” But instead, he just lifted his 1911 smith and fired four rounds into her from feet away.

My ears rang and I jerked away from him in a near panic, and shock, “what the hell? She wasn’t with them!”

“Chort is a menace, their kind abuse the allowances we have made for all the un-naturals. I’d rather see them snuffed out than continue to stink up the place.”

I fought free of Smith and hurried to her side. She was a small form really, something I had not noticed inside, and I pulled her into my arms.

The light in her eyes was fading quickly and looking down I could see the rounds had found their home in her lungs and guts. She was finished. There wasn’t anything anyone could do about it, still, my heart ached to try as she gasped for air.

Her panicked eyes searched for any sign of hope in my own as I held her, but there was nothing I could do. Instead, I tried to just smile, and at some point, I started to hum. I don’t know why, maybe it was something I’d seen in a movie, maybe it seemed like the only thing at the moment, but there I saw in the dust, gun smoke, and chaos holding Sophie as she died.

Sophie closed her eyes in just a few more seconds, but I sat there for another hour as the agents cleaned up. I couldn’t figure out where I went wrong. Not with this mission, it was an idiotic shit shown from the start, but in life I’d been a soldier, and a fairly good one, and now here I was, an amateur, acting like an amateur, and getting people killed.

Smith could have just as easily shot Mog or me. That man didn’t care about keeping the city safe, he only cared about eliminating the un-naturals. He was a stone-cold killer, and at that moment, Henry Holliday wasn’t going to swoop in and save anyone. We were all at the mercy of the Agents, and they weren’t appearing at all that merciful.

My eyes drifted to where I had last seen Mogwai, but where she had sat now only blood smears and ash remained. Had the Agents killed her too? What happened?

Turning, I saw Agent Smith standing near, his hand out once more and I knew taking it wasn’t an option. “She’s dead. You just shot her for no reason.” I said numbly.

“You’ve been playing bounty hunter too long, Ms. Remington,” Smith said and turned me around by my arm violently before placing me in cuffs.

“Playtime is over.”