Chapter 37

  Familiar Friends

  “Why do they keep SCREAMING?” Jaime's eyes were all white.

  Jimmy lowered his bow slowly, a crooked smile splitting his face, smelling blood.

  "They are fucking with us.”

  Bow hit the dirt. Both fists out. Shaking.

  “Eyes!”

  Light didn't shine.

  It detonated.

  White swallowed the night.

  Goblins screamed like needles pierced their skulls, stumbling blind, hands clenching faces.

  "NINE!" Chris roared from the east wall.

  The archer's eyes still glowed as the bow came up.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Twang, twang. Two screams cut short.

  Three idiots charged the opening.

  Dan greeted them.

  The first's neck became mist.

  Poorcalibur didn't stop, the next went splat.

  Shift

  Weight vanished, club whipped sideways, last folding like a lawn chair.

  Dan spun.

  Chris was cookin’.

  A screaming softball of fire lobbed through the air, then hung.

  Hovering, like an angel.

  BOOM.

  Goblins scattered, burning, flailing.

  Kim stabbed the ground.

  Grass turned slick, green legs went akimbo.

  George’s throws whirled like a Vietnam Doc.

  A boom, another arrow, a couple wet thuds.

  Silence.

  Just drifting Qi, smoke, and the smell of roasted swamp ass.

  Kim stared at the mist, shocked still.

  Jaime and Belle huddled together near Annette.

  Chris’ hands shook.

  Jimmy couldn't stop grinning.

  “Nine down. A whole camp to go.”