Shanahan wished he had a plan. Everything had worked out all right, but the escaping part of the plan needed a little work. Wyndham led the way toward the gate. He grabbed her arm when he realized mooks were spilling out of the guard towers to guard the gate.
“Another route,” said Shanahan. “They're waiting on us.”
Wyndham nodded. She turned left and led the way through streets and alleys toward the wall to the left of the gate.
“What do you think?,” she asked when they arrived at the base of the wall.
“Possible,” said Shanahan. “Have to move fast before they fill up the rampart.”
He swung off the horse and dropped to the ground. He slapped its rump to get it moving away from the possible battlefield. Wyndham joined him at the base of the wall.
“Are you going to punch a hole through the wall?,” she asked.
Shanahan paused to look at her. Was she serious? Could he punch through something like this? Did he want to try? How much thicker was this outer wall than the tower walls? He decided against it.
“Keep an eye out,” Shanahan said. He slung her over a shoulder and started climbing.
“This is not what I think we should be doing,” said Wyndham. “Guards are coming. They must have seen us.”
Shanahan planted both hands in the stone. He began running up the wall, using his hands as moving pitons. When he started falling back, he would dig his hands in and push upward toward the top of the wall.
“I'm going to be sick,” said Wyndham.
“Get ready,” said Shanahan. He reached the top of the wall. He dropped her on the rampart and threw himself at the guards rushing to cut him off. His body weight wasn't that much, but he was able to leverage strength and the ability of the Horse to shove the whole group back toward the tower.
He slapped some of them as he kept moving toward the tower. He wondered at his restraint. He should just kill as many of them as he could, but decided that as long as he could just hurt them, that would be good enough.
He didn't have to kill everyone he ran into trying to get away from the mess he was in.
Wyndham had recovered and was at his side. She had learned some self defense from somewhere. She caught arms and threw armored men off the wall if she had a chance.
“Whitehouse is coming,” said Wyndham. She blocked a punch and extended a thumb into the side of a man's neck, causing him to choke.
“Let's go,” said Shanahan. He grabbed her again. He hugged her as he slid down a corner produced by the tower and the wall. His feet acted as brakes for him until he reached the ground.
“Where did you learn to do that?,” asked Wyndham, when she was on her own feet and running from the wall.
“Kung Fu Theater,” said Shanahan. “Not much cover.”
“Whitehouse and Morehull are on the wall looking for us,” said Wyndham. “I don't think they can see us.”
Shanahan pointed to long grass ahead. She nodded. The more cover they had, the better it would be for them.
“They'll go to the Shaper hex to warn Miocic that we're looking for him,” said Wyndham. “He can shape stones to bridge distances.”
Shanahan moved away from the city. He was more concerned with having to fight Whitehouse and Morehull at the same time. He couldn't outrun the Door, and he couldn't block the Sword.
He needed a way to change the odds in their favor. If he could take either one of them by surprise, he might be able to get rid of that one. Would that leave him open to the other one?
He was a lot more worried about having to deal with Morehull than Whitehouse.
Wyndham led the way. Her power picked a path in the dark for her. He followed, watching the ground as he went. They had survived a lot of things so far. He didn't want to get hurt because he stepped in a gopher hole.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Thank you,” said Wyndham. “I didn't expect you to keep coming, but I should have known that you would.”
“Semper Fi,” said Shanahan. He held up a hand to his mouth to signal silence. Something was on the ground with them.
Whitehouse must have dropped the other weapon ahead of them somewhere. What would be their next step? How did he counter it?
Wyndham pointed to their right. She ducked down in the grass. They were in an island. As soon as they stepped out, they had to be ready to run, or fight.
Shanahan looked around. He didn't see the Door on the field with them. If they went after the Sword, they would have to watch for him to try to interfere.
“I'm going to try to distract them,” said Shanahan. “See if you can get the stone back so you can get back to Manhattan.”
“Maybe they will leave you alone if I give myself up,” said Wyndham.
“It's beyond that now,” said Shanahan. “You're right about that. They can't excuse what I did. Go away from them while I see what I can do.”
“I don't think that's a good idea,” said Wyndham. “If they take you, I won't be able to escape on my own. I could never pull off that parachute thing.”
Shanahan pointed for her to start out away from where they thought Morehull waited on them. He picked up a rock and followed. If Morehull dropped in on them, he expected things to get bloody.
He followed quietly. He didn't know how much good a rock would do, but he had seen people taken out with improvised weapons all over the war zones he fought in. He had a feeling that a rock in his hands was just as good as a bullet if he was able to swing his arm fast enough.
He should have thought of that back in the tower.
Wyndham started toward some trees. She moved from cover to cover. Pops sounded behind them as they worked their way through the shadows.
Shanahan looked behind him. Dark shapes followed behind them. Were they trying to chase them into a trap, or dropped with the knowledge that Wyndham and he had to cross to the other hex if they wanted to go back to Earth?
Wyndham paused. She hunkered down behind a tree. She held up a hand to show Shanahan five men were ahead of them. He looked behind them.
He nodded. They had to get through the line and keep going. So they had to make a hole. He hefted the rock in his hand. He could deal with one of the men from a distance.
He waited as the troopers held their positions. They weren't going to run at him, and he didn't want to run at them unless he had to do it.
A firearm against these guys would be a decisive advantage. He doubted the Sword could block bullets out of the air like a superhero.
And he was starting to get angry enough to like to try if he got the chance.
Wyndham waited for an unknown amount of time before she moved to the next tree. She crept along as silently as she could.
Shanahan charged the other way. The mooks gave chase as he led them away from Wyndham. Then he stopped running and scaled a tree silently. He watched the minions form up in a defensive circle a few feet from his tree.
He could take all of them out from the way they were scared of him. They didn't know where he had gone, and he could see them with the two small moons riding above. He eased out to the end of his branch, testing its strength before applying his full weight to it.
He jumped down on the nearest ones, trying to avoid the blades in their hands. He heard cloth rip and frowned. He was going to have to steal clothes if this kept up. The three of them fell to the ground. The other three minions turned to face the commotion.
Shanahan jammed his victim's heads into the ground. He didn't have time to deal with them permanently with the other three coming at him with big knives in their hands.
He leaped forward at them, pushing off from the ground with his hands and feet. He slammed into the first one and knocked him into the other two. He gave them some light kicks, afraid of what would happen if he applied his full strength.
He didn't see the need to reduce a man into kindling.
If they kept coming after this, then they deserved what he was going to give them.
Wyndham appeared. She kicked a man struggling to get up in the head. She took his sword and strapped it on. She veered back into the dark.
Shanahan followed after her. She knew where they were going. If she could get them off the hexagon and on the Shapers' ground, half of their problems would vanish.
She paused next to a tree. She shook her head. She gestured with her hand to indicate more than one man had been dropped in front of them. They were going to have to fight their way clear unless they came up with another trick.
Shanahan pointed at a tree to their right. She nodded. He grabbed the tree she had been hiding behind and exerted upward pressure. The tree came loose, trailing its roots as he hefted it on his shoulder. He flung it away in the dark.
Startled comments answered his toss. Now was the time to see if he could scare them into running.
“I'm going to keep throwing trees until I kill some of you,” said Shanahan. “If I were you, I would run.”
More comments let him home in on some of the men. Apparently they didn't know whom they were chasing in the dark. He grabbed another tree, and yanked it out of the ground. He tossed it in the dark.
Someone cried out as the tree whirled to a landing. He turned and crept the other way. He found Wyndham waiting for him. She walked away in the dark.
The two of them moved through the forest as silently as possible. She kept them pointed toward their goal with the use of her power picking out a straight line through the forest.
“We're going to be stepping out into the clear,” said Wyndham. “We're miles from the edge. We need some kind of transportation.”
“I can carry you on my back,” said Shanahan. “It won't be comfortable.”
“Do you think you could pull a small wagon to the border?,” asked Wyndham.
“Yes,” said Shanahan.
“All we need is a wagon,” said Wyndham. She closed her eyes. “This way.”
She led the way out of the forest, across a path, and into a field. Shanahan followed behind her. How long did they have before Whitehouse dropped Morehull on top of them.
If they could get a wagon for Wyndham, he could pull it anywhere. Her sleight weight was not going to make a difference to the strength he now possessed.
They descended on the farm ahead.