The two lémures let loose the hooked talons that pinned her down. They attempted to make a dash for it. Stopped, however, by a shotgun that boomed loudly. Their heads exploded into splinters of cartilage and splotches of viscera before they could turn away -

leaving oozy filliments splattered across Tasìa's chest.

Annebél stood at the driver's side door, she reloaded the shotgun before returning to the Jeep cabin.

Tasìa picked herself up, and wiped herself down. She could only maintain her composure for a few seconds before she stretched out her arms and flailed her hands up at the air; she bawled out in tears.

She screamed, "My guns! My lovely, lovely gun!"

The Jeep gently nudged against her back. Annebél was letting her know that the histrionics were wearing thin.

"But, it took off with my gun."

The heartbroken Tasìa dispatched the next lémur to challenge her with brutal efficiency after she drew the one gun that still remained on her bodice.

"Took off with my gun," she muttered as she searched for something else to shoot.

As much as she felt like taking aim at the one beast that carried off with the Vaquero as it disappeared from her view, there was no chance short of evoking the Modality to accomplish that miracle shot.

Tasìa soothed herself. So what's the big deal? She had done nothing to customize the frame of it with the sigils and totems of her people. She could buy another one at the Quick Mart Catalog Boutique.

Get your shit together, chica. Fight! Fight! Fight!

Tasìa jumped on to the Jeep's bumper and held on by the top rail. Annebél backed the Jeep up, slowly.

A pair of lèmares gnawed at the passenger side rear wheel. They seemed to ignore her, all together.

Tasìa chuckled as she assessed their attempt.

Good luck with that, you little fools.

While holding on to the roof rail support, she swung around to take a machete swipe at the ropy rat-like tail of the closest lémur. With two wacks, the tail severed.

The beast jerked its head back to confront her, only to lose its bearing. The Jeep caught it by its back hoof, and forced it down. With a slow crunch, its hind legs and back vertebrae fell beneath the wheel.

However, it inspired a second beast towards vehicular derived martyrdom. The thing wrapped its body around the tire, and dug its talons into it.

Tasìa threw the machete into the back compartment and switched back to the Magellani .22 revolver. Before she could draw a beed, the beast had tumbled twice around the tire before its corpse let go.

Its head lay flat on the asphalt shoulder, utterly devastated.

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Tasìa had no time to savor the gory victory; four more lémures rushed up to take their roadkill bretheren's place.

Tasìa dispensed with the beasts, but not as efficiently as her survivalist ideals demanded.

Still, she could admonish herself but only so harshly given the ride was too bumpy for precise aiming. She had one moon clip of teflonrazor rounds left on her.

From inside the cabin, Mel squawked for her attention.

He stood atop a box of rounds with his feathers ruffling, excitedly. She got the gist and tossed three empty moonclips his way. With one clip set in his beak, he pulled it to his free talon and went to work loading it with Mag .22 rounds.

Tasìa loaded the rest of what she had left on her, and raised her head to watch out for the latest developments.

A pair of lèmures set their sights for the front tire. It took four shots to take the two beasts that nipped at the wheel down. This action left her with only four rounds left in the cylinder.

Two more lémures approached her as another pair of the beasts flanked towards the back passenger tire.

Good strategy. Distract me while Team B gets to work.

"Annebél, if you could - speed it up," Tasìa yelled. "And then after five seconds, brake hard."

Tasìa pushed upward with the forearm that held onto the roof carriage. The lémures slammed into the back of the Jeep with a double thump.

Annebél yelped and Mel sqauwked in protest.

Tasìa stopped for nothing. Still holding her grip in place, she swiveled around just above the lémures attacking the back tire. Before they could sink their talons into the rubber casting, she nailed them both with the remainder of the teflonrazor rounds.

That was it for the specialty rounds in her stock. Not even white phosphorus tipped rounds were left. To this factor in her tactical calculus, Tasìa frowned. It would take her four well-placed shots on each one of the beast to accomplish what she did with one teflonrazor round.

Her remaining supplies would be eaten up quickly. The box of ammo that remained were Select Magnum .22s. Not bad stopping power at 1630 FPS (feet per second), but even on a human the aim had to be well placed.

That is what she liked about her .357 Vaquero. What would be a graze wound in the shoulder or thigh and easily survivable for the .22 Mag would rip a motherfucker apart and leave him with hydrostatic shock to deal with if shot with the .357.

She was settled with her butt straddling on the gate door. Mel flew over to sit beside her.

"My handsome boyo, Mel."

He fluttered his wings at the compliment. In his beak were the three moon clips now fully loaded.

Tasìa took the first two of the round supports to reload the revolver. The last moon clip she pocketed.

"Jump in," Annabelle yelled, "or at least, try to hang on."

Tasìa took her last advice. They finally reached a clearing for Annebél to maneuver a tight reverse, and swing the Jeep back around onto the highway where she could floor it.

Tasìa looked back, and breathed easily. Though there were still lémures stirring about in the field, she could now see that she had dispensed with at least half of them.

They had no chance of out running the jeep.

She turned to Mel.

"You did good, mi amiguito."

He once more squawked, appreciatively.

Annebél turned the headlights on, and gasped as soon as she did so.

Now back on the highway proper, several giant orbs, ascospores, floated a few feet above the ground as they approached the Jeep.

"Oh shit.. oh shit..!" Tasìa yelled. The orbs, eight feet in diameter, emmitted blue light from green and gray dermal surfaces made of leathery fungi growth.

Tasìa looked towards the skies. At some point recently in the fight, the talons of frozen-in-place lightning had disappeared. Now, from every direction, the ascospores descended upon them.

Mel watched from his perch, he stared affixed in brave survey at the malignant proceedings above them.

"Fly, Mel!" Tasìa urged. "You still have a chance."

His body language was clear in its defiance of her wishes.

Not without my Annebél.

Demona's image flashed on the screen. Her eyebrows arched in concern. Frown lines emphasized the heart shape of her face's upper crescent.

She whispered.

"There is something very odd about this event formation. How the energy that sits above you seems somehow familiar to me."

Tasìa braced herself when it appeared the ascopores, swollen with energy, were about to burst. An implosive noise canceled out the world. The last thing Tasìa sensed was the burning in her eyes as a pure white light engulfed her existence.