Page 99 of New Storm Rising
“Remember what I said about postponing this discussion, Mrs Ambrose?”
“Um…yep. Maybe you’re right.”
Bam! Bam! Crack!
Behind us, roof tiles splintered as a barrage of bullets hit the roof. Damn!
“They’ve circled around!”
“You don’t say.”
“Oh, shut up, you!”
Throwing myself around, I dashed towards the top of the roof, beyond which lay the ladder and salvation! Time to get the hell out of dodge! Skidding forward, I grabbed the ridge of the roof, somehow trying to pull myself over and into cover without getting turned into a sodding sieve!
Just at that moment, however, the gunfire suddenly ceased. Quickly vaulting over the ridge, I turned around, my gaze sweeping over the streets, trying to figure out what was going on. It didn’t take long.
“Holy Moly!”
Things in town weren’t just simmering anymore. They were on a boil! People were streaming out of houses and tents, armed with broken bottles, clubs, pitchforks and other pretty accessories. The thugs were retreating, bumping into each other, as they suddenly realized what every bully eventually realized if they were stupid enough to make a wrong move: that there were a hell of a lot more average joes than assholes, and it wasnota good idea to piss them all off.
“Um…there now…” Cautiously raising his rifle until it pointed skywards, the head thug sent the crowd a charming smile. Or at least what he thought was one. “We didn’t mean nothing. You guys understand we were just joking, right? Guys? Hey, guys, why don’t you—aaah!”
Barely avoiding having his balls skewered by a pitchfork, the man leapt back, rushing towards the door of the Spaniards’ house. “Retreat! Everyone, retreat!”
“Get ’em!” the pitchfork guy shouted. “Get ’em, folks!”
Like a pack of wolves, the people launched themselves forward, encircling the formerly oh-so-feared thugs. It seemed like half the town was down there. I even caught sight of a certain salesman hovering at the edge of the crowd, probably considering whether to try and sellFizzlewiz Marvellous Mob Motivatorto the horde. In the end, he seemed to think better of it. It probably had something to with the way several people were swinging pickaxes, chanting “Kill! Kill! Kill!”
The armed goons tried desperately to break out of the encirclement, to get a signal to the rest of their forces, to do anything to save themselves, but all in vain. In the end, they could only retreat under the unceasing onslaught of rocks, vegetables and broken bottles.
Cocking my head, I gazed down at the interesting spectacle. “I think your plan is going rather adequately, Mr Ambrose.”
“Agreed, Mrs Ambrose.”
“So…do you think it’s time we skedaddle before someone remembers we’re up here?”
“That would be advisable.”
Pulling back our heads, we slid down the slanted roof until we reached the edge.
“Since we’re done with phase one of your evil master plan,” I whispered, reaching out for the ladder we had come up, “do you mind telling me what you’ve got planned for the next step?”
“Well, it is quite simple, really. We’ve stayed in the background so far, but all of the little people already know exactly who is on their side and who is not. The best plans are those that fall in place by themselves. All we have to do is—”
But what exactly we would have to do, I never found out. Because just then, as I was about to take the first step down the ladder, I felt a sudden surge of dizziness sweep over me, nearly knocking my legs out from under me. I had never felt anything like it. The world turned upside down, the sky falling to earth and the earth rushing upwards, my stomach whirling as if it were a windmill. What the heck was going on?!
Lurching, I made a desperate grab for the ladder. I needed something, anything to hang on to! I just needed to grab hold, and—
I fell over the edge of the roof.
Fallen
Lights. Small lights, dancing in the darkness.
Oh look! Pretty fairies.
Headache-fairies, to be precise.
