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Cassandra 7
The plan was relatively simple; the Geeks would rain down a little destructive magic from above, as a diversion. Samson would then enter the Keep, before the others, by way of the old sewer, climb up through the second level sty, to the east tower, encounter the Judge, then remove his finger and his need to breathe. Benning, with a handful of the new Vamp-Geeks, would enter through the third level, head for the west tower and capture the Sheriff, using the melee, created by the satellite sound weapons, as a diversion. Samson said he wanted the Sheriff captured, rather than creating the mess of removing his head. Benning knew better. The Geeks needed a win and Samson was going to give them one.
Samson slipped down, at nightfall, and climbed through the trestles under structures, across to the base of the Keep, unnoticed by the sentries. Benning shivered as he watched the small black shadow quickly maneuver through the girders like a spider, leaving ropes hanging behind him as an aid, if needed, for the return trip. His boss sometimes gave him the creeps. He also discovered, with an added shudder, that the Vamp-Geeks could see better in the dark, than he. When Samson entered the old sewer tunnel the Geeks chirped for Benning to follow. He had lost sight of Samson as soon as he lit on the opposite shore. It was at this point that he was in full realization that he was employed by some sort of crazy-person-hero-priest-type, who was not at all safe to be around. Benning mentally shrugged, Samson was his friend, no matter how weird he is. He was in the dark alone with a dozen owl-eyed, God knows what else, Geek- bloodsuckers; and he was about to storm a well-armed, fully defended, granite-walled Keep. Life \'was\' good.
1110-Something indicated to Benning to follow them downstream. The little Geek whispered like a hissing snake that they had a way to cross the river. In ancient days this had been a dam site, the Change had destroyed the dam, but not a series of mysterious concrete tunnels that passed under the river. Most of the underground complex had been destroyed and none of the Geeks knew what purpose they served. They believed they might have been escape routes, to what, or from what - no one knew. But one of the larger tunnels was still intact and had been hidden by the Geeks. It led to another series of tunnels, additional concrete tunnel structures, and mine shafts that led to the doorway to the third level of the Keep. They estimated three hours to make the trip, if they hurried. The plan meant that Samson would be well into the Keep before they moved on the Sheriff. When Benning asked how they would know when to move through the door, the Geeks answered that Samson would whistle.
To Benning the concrete tunnels looked like well-ordered corridors. There were even, now colorless, painted stripes and writings on the walls and floors, indiscernible in the greenish glow. If there was a dam here these tunnels, and the Geek Lair, served a very definite military function. They moved quickly under the river when the explosions of the sound weapons hit the rocks and river overhead. Benning was shocked at the violence of the space blasts. Samson insisted that the Geeks just make a show of noise, flash, and dust, and they were doing just that. The faithful Superstitious, in the Keep, would take it as an angry act of their god. They would hide or look on the display with dreaded interest. Either way the city would be preoccupied. As they hit the door that opened into the Keep, the Geeks covered their ears in pain. Benning knew it was his boss without asking; he\'d seen the silent whistle reaction before. Samson would use this whistle on wild dogs, bears, and now Vamp-Geeks. They unlatched the door and rushed through, in the dark, to the west tower, where they knew the cowardly Sheriff would be shouting ineffective orders. He was where it was predicted he would be, hanging very closely to his own door opening. No one even noticed in the dust, riot and conflagration, when Benning knocked their beloved Sheriff senseless with a short bludgeon. He was hog-tied and gagged by the Vamps and was quietly dragged off through the hidden door.
The raiding party returned to the Lair with a terrified and assuredly awake Sheriff. He was trussed, seated on a chair, looking in horror at the Geek Leader, who looked like a more dreadful version of Old Count Dracula, a convenient myth that outlasted the Change. The poor superstitious public servant wet his pants in fear. Nothing was said or done, and nothing would, until Samson got back, as was ordered. The Sheriff could not bare the wait and subsequently fainted. Benning woke him and aggressively disobeyed Samson’s orders.
Samson found little trouble traversing the bridge and getting to the old sewer. He shimmied down a low pipe, found the ladder up to the Piggery, and moved a grid out of the way. He hummed \'Old McDonnell’ quietly, easing the herd of pig\'s fears and climbed out on to the shit coated sty floor. Across the sea of hog backs he saw the ladder leading up to the first level. He knew he stunk, he looked for a shower and a hose that the Swineherd would use to clean up. Seeing the pipes and nozzles by the ladder, he pushed, slipped on excrement, and shoved pig, all the way to the shower, and rinsed off.
Just as he started to climb the ladder to the upper level, he slipped and landed flat on his face. The pigs, some as large as five hundred pounds, made whimpering sounds and cleared away from the prone Samson in a hurry. Samson knew that this wasn\'t a good thing, past the face full of pig shit. He turned expecting to see guards, but what he saw was worse; it was a monster, a hog weighing in at least a ton. It stood in all its bristly horror, eyeing, with evil malevolence, the shit covered dark, little intruder. The Beast was easily six feet at the shoulder and sported huge, nasty looking, tusks. It snorted, lowered its ugly head, and pounded its hoofs on the floor, in warning. Samson did not want, in any way, to help these Keep folk; however, very soon they would have the makings of a generous pork feast, provided by their unwanted guest. He was sure these idiots would have some ridiculous religious ceremony that could include this roasted creature. He charged the monster straight on, jumped off the tusks, landed on the ridged back of the huge ferocious porker, and drove knifes deep into the neck of the creature. Samson was hoping for a quick kill, and was disappointed when the monster squealed loudly in pain, and threw him from its back. It then turned red-eyed and bloody, blowing its venomous hate at Samson. Getting to his feet, Samson ran up the ladder just as the mad-porker rammed, with granite cracking force, the ladder and wall.
Samson, again, jumped on its back and leaned forward, while the beast gathered its wits. Samson grasped the boar\'s tusks with both hands, balled up, and with the cowboy heeled boots kicked the boar in both eyes, blinding it. Samson flipped up, and to the right, hitting the floor and sliding on pig shit, until he hit a demure sow that squealed in delicate protest. The blinded and bloodied monster pig screamed its fury and pain, sending other pigs in a frenzy of squeals and riot. Samson could hear the explosions outside, happy that all this ado was covered by the bombardment. Samson gathered himself up and ran straight at the huge porker, fell under the beast in a nasty stink-slide, and slashed open its belly, spilling its entrails. As the massive boar lay dying, the other pigs fell on it with delighted and hungry squeals.
Samson calmly showered again and climbed the ladder. He breathed in the fresh air, not at all sorry for the lost feast, and climbed up and out onto the crowded ramparts. In the awed hubbub he went wet and unnoticed toward the east tower. The door lock was easy to pick and he entered the dark foyer of the Judges quarters.
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Why is doing what you love the hardest thing to do? Is it because failing what you thought defined you would be too devastating a thing from which to recover? If so, we stay where mere accident has left us.
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Cassandra 10
