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He tore down Route 22 and up the off-ramp. Smog-choked and
ugly even at this distance, Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love, lay
sprawled in all her aging glory. Much of North Philly was eaten up first by the
college, then by the estates of drug lords. The New Government took care of
both, closing the colleges that spawned it and then burying the drug lords it no
longer needed. More row houses were built during the first few years of the
People’s Freedom, then everything slid into a new decay.
The Uohali Red Sun dodged potholes and traffic down along
State Route 22, heading east. Philly was a dark smudge that grew to show empty
houses and crumbling skyscrapers. The road was a little better here, but not
much. Not as bad as the back streets of DC, either.
He saw a rusting sign detailing an off-ramp into the city
and took it.
At the bottom of the ramp a kid managed to lick Red Delight
from a plastic envelope and ram the car into a bridge pillar all at the same
time. Black and red flame engulfed his father’s car and he smiled, certain it
was the Red Delight. Then he started to burn and knew it was Red Delight. He
gasped and shuddered but was laughing, as well, as flames seared his eyes.
Benny tried to slow but hit a slick, burning spot of
plastic on the road and then a crack. At the last moment he jerked the front end
of the Red Sun up and shot over the car and melting plastic body.
He caught a glimpse of a wide grin in a burning body, and
then the Red Sun flashed into a copse of black willows. Benny was torn from the
Red Sun. He crashed against the bole of a willow and was dropped to the ground.
Already ambulance helicopters were screaming to the site to kill the fire and
see if anyone survived.
He tried to cry out but he was numb from the neck down.
A tall, ugly man with a blond Mohawk crouched next to him
and sobbed.
“I’m sorry, kid,” Two Swords whispered. “I tried.
But you wouldn’t listen.”
Laughter snarled from the direction of the burning car.
“I have won.” The Mohawk Buu stepped from the fires. "At
last the little bastard hath killed himself. Oh, but the joy of stretching him
across the Witch’s Stone would have been best, but even thus, I have won.”
He shoved at Two Swords. ‘Heart shrilled a war cry, and
the Guardian grabbed the sword, hacking at the Owl.
“He ain’t dead yet, creep,” Two Swords snarled.
Bit by bit, Benny’s life flickered, and the Owl smiled.
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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