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Authors: Craig Sargent

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BOOK: Last Ranger
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Just as it leaped into the air straight at his face Stone stepped to the side away from the wall. Snapping out with the icepick
but hiding the handle completely so it couldn’t be seen from the peanut gallery above, he ripped it toward the dog’s face
with the same speed that it was coming up. Its jaws opened and closed at the hand but missed and the tip of the icepick slid
right into the corner of the dog’s left eye, all the way to the hilt. Stone heard a sharp squeal and then ripped the pick
back out again, hiding it beneath the sleeve as the dog sailed past. It came down cold stone dead, hitting the floor on its
tail and sliding along like it had a stick of butter up its ass. It came to a stop about fifteen feet away with a trickle
of red sliding out of its eye and over the golden face.

Above him Stone saw a commotion as some of the crowd were screaming that he was using a weapon. But the Dwarf didn’t budge
from his death trance as he stared down. Stone would get to keep the icepick. Stone turned and sighted up the pit bull, who
was just about losing it with the paw and pull contest. Suddenly the mastiff threw itself down onto its side, ripping the
foot free with all its might. The great momentum of the mastiff put too great a strain on the tendons and bone of such a mighty
dog, for the pit bull didn’t let go an inch, but tightened its jaws just as the mastiff spun over. The huge dog’s whole right
paw and about four inches of leg came off in the pit bull’s mouth. Excaliber fell backwards as it had been pulling so hard.

The mastiff let out a howl of mortal pain that seemed to thrill the crowd above and made them forget about Stone’s illegal
weapon. He saw his chance and while the mastiff was dragging itself along on three legs plus a bloody stump that left a trail
of sticky red behind it as it hobbled after the pit bull, Stone snuck up behind it. Excaliber sensed what Stone had in mind
and lured the mastiff on, keeping just out of its range. The killer kept lunging forward, but it was in pitiful shape now
with just three legs, not even able to judge quite how to walk anymore. Stone dove through the air as he saw the dog’s attention
was fully focused on the pit bull. He came down on the creature’s back and stabbed the ice pick into the center of its skull.
The sharp point of the pick sank cleanly in like a knife into butter and Stone pushed with all his might until he couldn’t
push any further. Then he twisted and turned it all around like an Italian mother stirring a spaghetti sauce.

The mastiff struggled violently, trying to snap at Stone’s hand. But the pit bull charged in and grabbed it around the throat,
holding it down while Stone ripped the pick free and then sank it in again—and again. In a few more seconds it was over. Blood
covered the floor for yards around as the animal’s skull had fractured in places and was oozing red from fissures in the bone.
Stone stood up as the crowd above booed and stomped angrily. He bowed first to them and then to the Dwarf. The Dwarf’s mouth
was set into a fixed cheshire cat of a smile, and he nodded slowly. Behind him, Stone heard the door opening.

CHAPTER
Nineteen

I
F Stone had thought the Tribunal of Ten not to be the greatest looking guys, the two men walking out of the darkness of the
tunnel were nightmares. Besides the fact that they were seven feet tall plus a few inches and had arms that should have had
leaves on them and been in the ground—they both had extra appendages. One a third arm coming out of the center of its chest,
and the other an extra leg that came out behind it at the base of the spine. All the extra baggage seemed to be in perfect
working condition as far as Stone could see as the two strode in. Not that they needed it, but each had weapons in addition
to his innate bull strength. The three-legged one carried a long sword that must have run six feet from stem to stern and
a car door sized shield, while the three-armed one carried two machete-like blades and a net in the extra hand. All in all,
between them they looked like it would take a whole division to subdue them. But Stone looked around and saw only himself
and the dog.

As he had done with the mastiffs he pulled back as far away as he could from the two mutant men. They were known to the crowd,
for when they raised their arms to the glass screens above the greenshirts went wild. Mickey Mantle, Wilt Chamberlain and
Joe Namath all rolled up into two hunks of overmuscled flesh. At last when they’d had enough of their strutting and preening
for the masses, they hefted their weapons and set out to take care of business. Stone and the dog reached the far wall and
there was nowhere else to go. As the two reconstituted fighters came tearing ass across the cement floor Stone pushed Excaliber
in the opposite direction from him along the wall.

“Run boy, let’s split them in two—keep moving. Go!” The pit bull looked at the two rolling mountains coming their way and
took off along the steel wall moving like a rocket. Stone ripped off the other way pumping his legs as fast as they would
carry him. Both of them just got the angle right so the two NAUASC fighters came barreling right by them. Both men having
such mass took yards to stop and nearly slammed into the wall. It took them a full ten seconds to get themselves all rearranged
and set for a charge again. It was like fighting elephants rather than men. But on the other hand Stone could use their great
momentum and long stopping time to his advantage.

He halted when he reached the far wall and saw Excaliber already there waiting for him, tongue huffing and almond eyes looking
up asking what the hell next, Chow Boy? Only Chow Boy had nothing more to offer than what he had just done. Run—and try to
sneak a sucker punch in on the bastard.

“Split up again, dog—meet you on the other side.” He waited until the two giants were halfway across again, sword and machetes
spinning in the air, then Stone screamed “Go!” and they both took off. He started right along the wall again knowing the three-legged
one would think he was going to go the same way he had a minute before. The mutation changed his angle, heading to cut Stone
off at the pass, but the would-be victim altered his own course with the turn of an ankle and shot by on the inside of the
flailing bruiser. As he crouched down the giant’s long sword flew by right above him. Stone ripped the icepick from his sleeve
and stabbed it hard into the thing’s leg. He had been aiming for thigh muscle, but hit the kneecap, which was just fine with
Stone. As the man mountain flew by Stone ripped the pick out again and then ran forward all the way back to the wall as the
three-armer let out a howl of pain and had to slow down a little as its right leg started looking a little wobbly.

“All right,” Stone hissed under his breath as he ran. He had actually hurt the bastard. As he turned his head away for a few
seconds, knowing it was going to take a little time for the big fellow to get his act together, Stone saw that the three-armer
was having his own devil of a time really getting a handle on the pit bull too. It seemed like the dog was always just within
reach of his two machetes and suddenly it was gone. Twice he threw the net and missed completely as the dog almost seemed
to mock him, trying to get him angry. But on the third throw of the net the dog misjudged slightly and got its hindquarters
caught in the thin steel mesh. The three-armed fighter came in for the kill, slamming down both machetes toward the canine
as if ready to skewer it for the cooking fire. Somehow the dog flew up from the concrete trying to out-race the descending
steel blades. He did, just barely. As both two-foot-long blades ripped down the pit bull flew in under them and straight up
into the face of the three-armer. He snapped hold around the giant’s lower face, sinking canines deep into already twisted
cheek and mouth and nose tissue.

Still, even mutant giants don’t like having their faces turned into bloodburgers. The three-armed fighter flailed up at the
dog and managed to slash it hard right along the neck. The animal dropped the hold sensing a second strike and rolled over
backwards a few times, spinning out a spiral of blood as it flew.

“Oh Christ,” Stone muttered, his stomach dropping down to his knees. But the dog hit the ground and was moving fast. Stone
saw that the blood flow was bad but not fatal—not yet. But his momentary distraction by the dog’s actions had made him forget
for a few seconds that the other one was still kicking. And he had gotten himself going a little quicker than Stone expected,
for suddenly there was a whistling sound coming straight at his head and Stone, pulling back as he turned to see what it was,
sighted the three-legger’s sword coming posthaste. The split-second warning enabled him to pull back from the blow—but only
partially. The edge of the sword slid into the side of his chest. It sliced down across three or four ribs leaving a half
inch deep gash before the blade continued past him and cracked into the concrete floor, sending sparks flying everywhere.

Stone waited a fraction of a second to see if he was dead or alive. Discovering that he was still standing, he shot off sideways
and managed to just avoid the back thrust of the blade. Now he’d definitely gotten the sucker mad and three-leg came tearing
at him, hobbling along on the ice-picked knee. Stone walked quickly backwards as if in a walking race in the wrong direction.
He didn’t want to take his eyes off the killer a second time. There wouldn’t be a third. He heard a dreadful howl and didn’t
know if it was Excaliber or the three-armer. And he sure as hell didn’t have time to look.

Suddenly his back was against the wall and the thing was there like a charging rhino. Stone barely managed to sidestep the
blow but even as he ripped out to do some damage with the pick, the third leg, which he had somehow forgotten about, came
flying up. It was aimed at his testicles, but Stone was able to pull his thigh around to take the blow. The power of the kick
sent him slamming into the metal wall and then bouncing right off it and past the giant. Stone was unconscious for a fraction
of a second but made himself come to fast. Even his unconscious knew there was no time to play games.

The three-legged fighter came out swinging the sword with one hand and waving the immense chromium shield with the other,
trying to hypnotize Stone with the reflections that bounced off the thing. And it was almost working. Stone had to shield
his eyes as he moved away, having a hard time getting a clear view. Suddenly the sword was descending and as he shot away
the shield came down like a guillotine and hit him square in the chest. He went down like the lights were going out for good
and just barely managed to hang on. As he hit the cold hard floor Stone fell onto his side. He looked up through pain-dazed
eyes and saw the giant looming above him like he extended up into the ceiling. The man was savoring his moment of triumph
as Stone lay at his feet. He raised his sword up for the crowd’s approval, making them scream for him to begin the final descent.
Only his PR stunt cost him too much time. Stone’s head cleared, enough to know that his nose was about an inch away from the
dude’s huge smelly boot. Stone without even thinking about it ripped the ice-pick from his sleeve and slammed it straight
into the top of the leather boot. It slid easily through the hide and down into the bone and then right through the foot.

The three-legged fighter let out a howl and ripped up his middle foot in agony. As the leg came up Stone pulled the icepick
out and rolled onto his back. Before the killer could move an inch he thrust the icepick right up into the thing’s groin,
pushing with everything he had. If the howl before had been loud, this one was thunderous. The man mountain jumped backwards,
throwing his sword and shield to the floor as he grabbed at his torn genitalia. He screamed as he bounced backward like a
yo-yo gone haywire until he slammed into the wall. He fell there on his side like a beached whale and made mewing sounds as
his whole body went into shock.

Stone tore his attention back behind him where he held one of the strangest things he’d ever seen. The pit bull had somehow
gotten the three-armed one in a clamp bite around one ear. But the man was holding the pit bull in the air a good six feet
off the ground with two of its three arms. Yet it couldn’t throw the dog or the whole ear would come off. The third arm was
reaching around for the machete it had dropped on the ground when the dog had taken half of his face off. Stone reached down
and hefted the immense sword the three-legger had dropped. It was hard to even carry as it must have weighed eighty pounds
plus, not exactly ideal weight for a sword. Stone gripped the thing with both hands and tore as fast as his shaking legs could
carry him across the bloody arena.

Three-arms had just found his blade and was about to bring it up into the pit bull’s guts when Stone’s blunderbuss of steel
sliced down right at the elbow. The third arm fell from the mutation’s chest and dropped to the ground where it lay there
spasming, the fingers opening and closing around the handle of the weapon. Suddenly three-arm decided he didn’t give a shit
about his ear after all and heaved the dog with all his might back against the wall. Excaliber went soaring a good nine feet
off the ground, ear and all in his mouth, trailing bloody tendrils and veins. The giant turned toward Stone with red cascading
down the side of his face. He was so pissed off now he seemed oblivious to the pain, and with a roar worthy of King Kong on
a bad night, he leaped at Stone who, not being prepared for such speed and anger, didn’t have time to bring the sword up again.

BOOK: Last Ranger
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