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MODERN EARTH SERIES
31 The Warmth of Narya
32 Wanted
33 The March
34 Tying Knots
35 Dark Wings
36 Band on the Run Part One
37 Band on the Run Part Two
38 Enemy in Sight
39 Burglary
40 The Frying Pan
31 The Warmth of Narya
Burli’s mouth grimaced in pain despite his best efforts when Legolas bent over him. The poor old dwarf’s arm was badly swollen. Beads of sweat formed on Burli’s brow and he could no longer swallow the strong drink that Sober offered him to dull the pain. Legolas took the injured hand into his own. The dwarf groaned and with effort focused his eyes.
"Ah, Friend," he said. "Too late you’ve come, I think."
"I think not," Legolas said brightly. "See what I’ve brought you?"
Narya glowed like a coal in the forge. The elf touched the ring to the wound. The pain lessened as the poison burned away. Warmth returned to the dwarf’s hand and a smile to his lips.
"I’ll have more of your beverage now, Sober," he said with a wave of his good hand. "An’ a wee drop for the elf too, if you please."
"My thanks," Legolas said. "Warmth for warmth then."
Burli laughed and allowed the elf to prop him up. He glanced at his dour faced kin and said, "I told all of ye how fair spoken the elf was, did I not? Na' the least bit haughty like so many of his race."
Legolas laid his hands lightly on Burli’s shoulders. Then he smiled at Gimli.
Legolas said, "We use arrogance in the same way dwarves use gruffness."
Gimli coughed and muttered, "Hah, our secret is out."
The dwarves laughed in their low gravelly way. They passed the bottle of drink and each took a long pull. Soon the injured dwarf’s head nodded forward.
"Sleep a little while, Burli," Sober said. "Gain back yer strength."
"Yes," Gimli said. "We gave the Black Riders a warning. Legolas disabled the big cycle. The rider rose up, but his mount will not until it is repaired."
Burli reclined again, helped under a blanket by Legolas’ gentle touch. Then, by irtue of the drink Sober had poured into him and the lessening of his suffering, the old dwarf fell asleep quickly. Since it was the middle of the night, all the dwarves decided they should rest because they were in a place of safety and comfort at the present moment. No one knew what the morning would bring.
While they slept, Legolas stood watch. Softly, he hummed a tune. Near dawn he heard a faint ringing sound of hammers on anvils. After a few moments, he realized that someone was trying to ring them. The ID claimed the call originated at Old Took’s office. Legolas opened the phone.
"Where crackle, crackle hiding, Leg…?" Old Took asked. There was a pause and more crackling. A moment later the line went dead.
"Gimli, we are wanted men. And I had no idea that our phones wouldn’t work down here."
"Hum…" the dwarf said as he stretched and yawned. "Oh, we are fairly deep. Now, tell me, why must ye call out?"
"Old Took tried to reach us. Something must be amiss."
32 Wanted
Gimli took a look at his cell phone. It was clearly showing out of service area now. He shrugged and handed it back to his friend. Then the dwarf twitched his finger and started walking.
"Come with me," Gimli said. "I knew these call boxes would come in handy someday."
They walked over to the wall of the modern cavern and Legolas noted a small niche complete with a sleek pay phone.
"You are a marvel, my beauty!" Legolas breathed in Gimli’s ear.
Legolas picked up the receiver and dropped in a few coins. He dialed the number to Took’s office and waited.
"Offices of Too…" Samantha Gamgee began. Then Legolas cut her off.
"It’s me, Legolas. What’s happening?"
The elf crouched down and shared the receiver with Gimli, so they could both hear what the hobbit had to say.
"Where are you, Legolas? Is Gimli with you?"
"Answer my question first, please," Legolas said. "The rest may not be important. What’s happened?"
"Well," Samantha started to say in true hobbit story-telling fashion.
"Just the important facts, my dear," Legolas reminded her. "We are not in the safest of places."
"All right," the young hobbit said. "Ms. Winsom and her brother are both in protective custody. Their lives have been threatened and you remain the chief suspect. The police went to your place to bring you in for more questioning and they found two young and uncooperative transient dwarves at your apartment, one with a gun and the other with your cell phone. We’ve been trying to reach you all night. There’s an APB out for both you and Mr. Gimli. They assume you are armed and dangerous."
"Are the youngsters all right?" Gimli broke in.
"Yes, Mr. Gimli, with Mr. Took and fine," Samantha answered. "Good to know you are there. Please, persuade Mr. Legolas to turn himself in."
"Listen, Ms. Gamgee, I can’t turn myself in," Legolas said calmly. "Please call Lieutenant Davis and tell him that I will give myself up in twenty four hours. He must not try to arrest me before that time."
"You can’t give the police an ultimatum, sir!" Samantha gasped. "First, they’ll laugh. Then, they’ll shoot you."
"Shooting must be avoided. Please call Lieutenant Davis. When this is all over, we can all have a long, merry chuckle. Do you understand?"
"I understand, but as your legal counsel…"
"We'll call again later. Assure Old Took his fortune and good name remain safe. Good bye, Ms. Gamgee."
"Good bye."
Legolas straightened and hung up the receiver. He said, "We have more than a few enemies, Gimli."
The dwarf nodded.
Legolas slipped his arm around the solid shoulder next to him. He said, "We must avoid the police at all costs. If we fall into their hands, they will take Narya from me. If they see us, they will shoot to kill."
"Allow me to lead then, Friend," Gimli said, looking up and smiling confidently. "I know the whole of Underground. Where in the city would you like to go?"
Legolas rubbed his chin and thought a long while. There was a new Dark Lord in the city. His minions moved at night. Where would the man conceal himself during the day? What was his connection with Wynona Winsom and her brother? Why had they killed their tool Fenton? There were many questions and few answers.
"Let's see a little more of your Underground, Gimli. We need to get the dwarves something to eat."
"Aye, a little breakfast would be nice."
33 The March
Legolas slipped his arm under Old Burli and helped him to his feet. The old dwarf grumbled appreciatively. Gimli watched in deep affection as his lover saw to the comfort of the ancient dwarf. Legolas was a treasure as valuable as the Arkenstone itself. Hadn’t Thranduil tried to reclaim his son from a dwarf as the elf king had laid claim to the fabled gem? Gimli put his hands on his hips. Well, twice elves lost to dwarves.
The younger dwarves were staring at Gimli. Good-natured dwarven covetousness glowed brightly in gem green eyes. Gimli proudly puffed out his chest. He made certain that Sober and Narsi understood his sole rights to a jewel like Legolas. The moment seemed like the old days returning, Gimli thought. The old days, when greed was not a bad word, and dwarves mined the roots of mountains and hoarded precious things.
"We need a safe haven, Gimli," Legolas said, unconscious of the subtle dwarven interplay. "A place with food and drink."
"Old Took’s office," Gimli declared. "Not but four miles by these tunnels."
"A long walk for some," Legolas said, tilting his head in Burli’s direction and looking down the path Gimli pointed out.
"Ye needn’t worry," Gimli replied taking the lead and hustling members of his race down the proper tunnel. "Dwarves are strong and enduring in long marches. Under Lonely Mountain we walked a mile to the shower!"
"Ah, now I remember a long run," Legolas said softly. "Once more we seek hobbits."
"Aye, and again we shall find them surrounded by food."
The pair laughed and the park dwarves sensed their confidence. They shifted their few possessions and followed down the long branching sewers. Legolas and Gimli led, stopping only to allow Burli to keep up. Water dripped and the overhead yellow lights cast a sallow glow upon sweaty faces.
34 Tying Knots
"Reminds me of my dear old dad knocking on Bilbo’s door," Gimli said, rapping firmly on the office door and then stepping inside with his entourage. "Come in. everyone."
"Mr. Gimli," Underhill exclaimed, a doughnut halfway to his lips.
"Oh! Mr. Legolas," Ms. Gamgee twittered around a mouthful of cinnamon roll.
Two young park dwarves threw themselves at their older companions. Happily buzzing about all that had happened.
"Do you all take tea? Coffee?" asked Brandybuck over the din, a china tea service with a floral pattern on a silver tray filling his hands.
"Coffee, black," Gimli said. "Tea for the elf."
"Coffee for us too," Burli said, dwarves in a “v” formation steaming all ahead full toward the loaded buffet table.
The hobbits swirled in the wake of the dwarf onslaught. They scurried to provide plates and napkins. Underhill found more chairs. Ms. Gamgee ducked out and down the hall to Took’s private office leading Mr. Legolas.
"Legolas!" Old Took shouted. "Please come in."
Gimli did not leave his companion’s side. He followed the elf into the hobbit's cozy den. Large chairs
and little ones beckoned. Old Took waved his small hand.
"Sit you both down. Good news and bad."
"The good first then," Legolas said, taking a comfortable chair and sipping his cup of tea. "I’ve bad news of my own."
"Well, first Ms. Winsom called to let me know she’s dropped the civil cases pending against you now that Mr. Fenton has died. Bad news, the criminal charges are still being pursued. You remain the primary suspect in his murder."
Legolas raised his dark eyebrow and peered over the rim of his tea cup. He said, "Our news concerns the resurrection of the Nine. I’m sure they are the ones who killed Fenton and made attempts against Ms. Winsom. They’ve attacked the park dwarves, I believe, because Narsi caught a glimpse of the new Dark Lord."
"I’m sure you are right, Legolas," Old Took said. "I did some checking and discovered that Ms. Winsom is on retainer to a new financial group called Anillo Multinational. Anillo is Southron for ring."
At that moment, the phone rang. Old Took answered it and handed it to the elf.
"Ms. Winsom wishes to speak with you, Legolas."
35 Dark Wings
Legolas took the phone from Old Took.
A woman's voice asked, "Mr. Greenleaf?"
"Yes," Legolas answered.
"You must realize what he wants. You must give it to him. For the sake of everyone."
"For the sake of everyone, my dear, he shall not have it."
"Be reasonable. You can travel into the West. We must contend with him. Give him what he wants."
"And have him wield unspeakable power? No."
"Then, will you force his hand?"
Legolas hesitated. He had plenty of time. Or did he? Were enemies heading toward Took’s office as he chatted on the phone? He hung up on Ms. Winsom and returned the phone to Old Took.
"Gimli, we have to leave. Snatch me a biscuit. Then, let’s be on our way."
When they entered the front office the park dwarves Narsi, Dayci and Sober were ready to march. Underhill and Brandybuck had taken out their own weapons and they were ready too. Just then there was a knock at the door.
"Mr. Took," called a young male voice. "We carry a message from Legolas."
Randy and his mother stepped into the office. They were prepared too.
Gimli said, "There are Nine of us now."
Legolas shook his head. He said, "I’ll not enlist women and children."
Legolas stopped speaking and looked up, tilting his head. Then the others heard the noise too. An ominous sound, whirling rotor blades growing closer. Mirandwyn took out the sealed letter that Legolas had given her. She handed it to Ms. Gamgee. Then, she put her hand on her son's shoulder. They were ready. Four races to stand against the darkness.
"Come out with your hands on your head," the voice on the bullhorn roared over the noise of engine and rotors. "There’s no reason for anyone to get hurt."
"Is there a tunnel out of here too?" Legolas whispered.
"Follow me," Gimli said.
36 Band on the Run (part 1)
Gimli led his troops down the corridor past Old Took’s office and into the bathroom. There was a large storage closet on the northern wall of the room. Gimli opened the door and out fell boxes and bags of miscellaneous "things": Crowning Day decorations, innumerable birthday gifts wrapped for some future party, three large boxes of fireworks, assorted canned goods, tins of cookies and sweets, "necessities" the hobbits called them.
In a flash, the troops cleared a path to the floor drain and service crawl-way. As they went down, Ms. Gamgee and Old Took piled their precious goods back on top of the escape route. The whirl of rotors, flashing lights and barking police dogs seemed to come from everywhere. Then, they heard a loud banging on the front door.
Old Took threw his jacket into his office and ran to the door. He took a deep, calming breath and then flung it open. The officers were greeted by a kindly old hobbit, smiling and blinking in surprise.
"Good day, Lieutenant Davis," he said, huffing and puffing. "How can I help you?"
"Don’t play with me, Took," Davis snarled. "Where’s Greenleaf? I know he was here."
"Oh, do you now?" Took said, wiping his hands on his shirtsleeves. "I was in the back straightening a storage closet."
"Oh, really," Davis quipped, peering over the shorter figure barring the door.
"I came up for air when I heard the chopper," Took said. "I’m afraid, you’ve caught me unawares, sir. Please pardon my informal state."
Davis shook his head and slammed his right fist into the palm of his left hand. He was up against a cagey, old badger. Threats were no use and the law protected the lawyer like armor and shield. Davis assessed what he could see of the front office. Coffee cups, dirty dishes, crumpled napkins, half eaten doughnuts, a sideboard loaded with a nearly devastated feast. A squad of soldiers would have made a dent like that. Greenleaf had friends. Now, where were they?
"This is not the last you’ll see of me," Davis muttered turning on his heel.
"Fortune preserve you then, Lieutenant," Took called out, beginning to close the door. "I’d be happy to have lunch with you next Thursday. Until we meet again."
Davis winced as the door slammed rather loudly in his ears. He stalked back to his squad car and he passed the elf’s XKE in the parking lot. He noticed another small car next to it, an older compact. He called in the license number. A woman with the same street address as the elf’s. Davis scratched his head. So, the lady friend is in on it too. Good to know, he thought.
********
Gimli led the troops to a metal ladder about ten blocks from Took’s office. They had passed into the low rent side of downtown. From now on, they could travel the back streets and work their way around to the park again. Legolas smiled. Their modern city was not much larger than Minas Tirith at its height. It was smaller than Moria, probably about a day and a half to cross on foot rather than three.
Mirkwood was much bigger. So was Fangorn, Legolas mused, thinking of other battlefields as he followed his brave companions. Then he saw that Mirandwyn leaned on her son’s arm. The boy wasn’t winded from their march but the woman was. Like the dwarves, she didn’t complain. Unfortunately, the hobbits did.
"You know we’ll miss tea today," Brandybuck whispered to Underhill as they walked. "And happy hour."
"Not supper, I hope," Underhill said. "We can’t miss our supper."
How fondly Legolas remembered the first hobbits he’d met, sampling everything they could find to eat in Rivendell. One would think they came from a desert region rather than from of the richest soil in Middle Earth.
Just then, a scrap of paper stapled to a utility pole caught his attention.
"Help Wanted"
You too can earn big money in the forest industry.
Chain saws provided. Past work history no problem.
Must be willing to take a few chances. Bonuses
Apply in person at Anillo.
The address of the office listed on the poster was not far away. He waved at Gimli. The dwarf read the poster and shook his head.
"I heard about this down at the lumberyard," Gimli said. "Illegal logging is destroying the rain forest in the southern lands."
"Anillo is involved," Legolas said. "The company is massing an army and enlarging its operation."
Gimli scratched his beard and said, "Reminds me of Saruman."
37 Band on the Run (Part 2)
"Well, our plan to rest did not work out exactly as we’d planned, Gimli," Legolas said, leaning against a crumbling brick building in a narrow alley. "We are the quarry of more than one huntsman."
Police helicopters had passed overhead moments before. And, now the troops sat on back steps to half a dozen abandoned businesses in the worst part of town. The plump hobbits were breathing hard, wiping faces with handkerchiefs and bemoaning their decisions to become warriors.
Gimli laughed trying to still his own pounding heart and aching chest. A flash of concern crossed elven features and Legolas laid a smooth, white hand on Gimli’s shoulder. The ring Narya caught a ray of light and glowed warmly like a hearth fire on a winter’s night.
"I should rally them, I suppose, as Aragorn oft did," Legolas said.
Gimli laid his gnarled paw over his friend’s slim hand and squeezed. He nodded. The glow of Narya wasn’t dimmed and Gimli inhaled a great breath. In a twinkling, his beard grew curlier and his eyes sparkled. Even his hand seemed younger and stronger in Narya’s fiery glow.
"Aye," Gimli roared at last. "Then, on with the battle."
Then, as Aragorn and Gandalf did before great battles, Legolas encouraged his troops. They had not yet seen the enemy, and they were faint-hearted already? Take heart, he told them. They were fighting for what was good in their world. They battled a new ring, and they fought to preserve ancient Narya. The speech was rousing and at the end, the little band cheered, full of courage and determination.
Then, everyone heard more applause, a slow rhythmic clapping, surrounding them. The hobbits craned their faces upward. They pointed to windows in several of the surrounding buildings. Eorand shielded his mother. Two park dwarves, Narsi and Sober, flanked the hobbits. Gimli took a step, axe in hand, to stand back to back with Legolas. They all looked upward, toward the surrounding windows.
Dark faces peered out at them. Caps shadowed many of their features. Young men in denim and leather, jewelry and white teeth glittering.
"Yo, Legs," Black Pete called out. "Can anyone play in yo’ band?"
Legolas let out a whoop of recognition that took Gimli unawares. The elf was waving and gesturing for the men to join them. The strange cant of the street gang was nearly unintelligible to the dwarf, but he smiled and thanked the members of Black Pete’s gang who joined them.
Within a few more blocks, Juanito and his gang joined them too. He’d heard about the destruction of the forests from newly arrived refugees. It was bad, he told them. Thousands of acres of forest were burning, all because of greed.
Legolas asked them, "Do any of you know if there are minions of the new Dark Lord camped nearby?"
"New recruits get outfitted about three blocks from here," Juanito said. "They stay in one of the warehouses. I’ll show you."
"We must have a battle plan," Gimli interjected. "We can’t take innocent lives."
"Yes, of course," Legolas agreed.
38 Enemy in Sight
It was the smell, like a slaughterhouse, that twitched the elf’s nose. Gimli snorted and grimaced in distaste. The building they approached sat on the corner of the block. They crept along the back alley. Soon, they grew closer, the rest of the troops complained of the offensive odor.
Legolas stopped before they got to the dumpsters near the back entrance. There were articles of clothing strewn about the alley. More than rags and less than dirty laundry. And boots, a lot of boots and shoes. There were eyeglasses, belts, even wallets.
"Here’s one with money in it," Randy said. "And a picture of a young woman and some kids."
"Shhh," hissed Legolas.
He waved with his arm behind his back, gesturing with his hand for them to get out of the center of the alley, to stay closer to the walls. Mirandwyn grabbed her son and pulled him to her side. A big rat scuttled out of the dumpster. There was a loud twang and a heavy thunk against the steel container. Legolas and Gimli recognized a heavy crossbow bolt. Street soldiers skittered for cover and weapons flashed.
Black Pete’s gang favored small pistols. He had a 44 Magnum, held sideways with two hands. Gimli nodded his approval. Juanito’s boys had knives and only a few waved guns. All of them were quick and saavy about street fighting, veterans no doubt of many battles. Blood raced in the dwarf's veins.
"There goes the element of surprise," Gimli grumbled, while smiling at the prospect of open conflict. "Legolas," he hissed. "Shall we rush the door?"
"Wait here with the troops, Gimli."
The elf's voice was calm and calculating. His face showed no emotion. He tilted his head toward the building, straining his keen hearing.
"Keep an eye on the windows. I’m going scouting."
Gimli opened his mouth to protest. He closed it. How long had they been warriors? All their long lives. Legolas would return. He would take no foolish chances. Stout and strong, Gimli reasoned his own task to be. Holding their troops in readiness, awaiting the call of the wild wood thrush. The signal to attack.
So, they waited in the shortening shadows. The sun moved slowly overhead and the stench grew. Mirandwyn and Eorand leaned against the wall. One of Juanito’s young men passed them a plastic bottle half full of a green-colored drink. He signed that they should take a sip and pass it on. Gimli saw that the hobbits had removed their suit coats. Only a hobbit chose to wear a tweed jacket, waistcoat and pocket watch to war. Innocent creatures they remained.
Gimli heard a lark. He swung his head in the direction of the sound. Legolas crouched in the narrow shadow of a doorway. He was gathering himself for a sprint back to their position.
Calmly, his voice carefully pitched to carry, Gimli ordered, "Take aim, boys, at the windows. Shoot anything that holds a weapon."
When they were ready, Gimli flashed the signal with the edge of his axe. Legolas ran in a zigzag to the popping accompaniment of small arms fire. Three bolts splintered on the pavement but none touched him. Oddly, there was no general alarm. The guards merely shot at anything moving in the alley. They still did not expect an attack.
Legolas breathed a moment. Then he said to his companion. "Inside, there are men bound in a cage, Gimli." The elf shuddered, looked away a moment and then captured his friend's concerned gaze. The elf swallowed and continued, gasping for air. "We must rescue them before they too are eaten. This is an orc barracks.”
39 Burglary (part 1)
"We’ll manage, Legolas," Underhill said, as the hobbits adjusted grey, elven cloaks one more time.
"Near likeness of Frodo and Sam," Gimli murmured. "May your ancestors watch yer backs."
"We’ll be watching too. Don’t forget that," Legolas said. "It they awake, we’ll be on them. Your task is to get the key and free the prisoners. Don’t stop to fight."
"Aye," Gimli said. "Let us take on the orcs. My axe is thirsty."
Legolas kept his focus on the hobbits. He said, "The cloaks will help you. When you are still, you’ll seem to disappear."
"We can do it, Mr. Legolas," Underhill said. "You can count on us."
"I am in your debt, good sirs, yet again."
"The whole world will owe favors, Mr. Legolas, when this evil plot is revealed," Underhill replied.
The two hobbits faced one another and nodded. Their expressions were grim. ‘Twas a sad day to see hobbits off to war, Gimli thought. Peace and plenty suited them. Underhill pulled off his shoes and gave them to Gimli. A moment later Brandybuck did the same thing.
"Now, let me get this on straight," Brandybuck said, twitching the cloak’s hood over his head a final time.
At that instant, he seemed to disappear before the eyes of the whole company. Legolas allowed himself a half-smile. After what he’d seen of the orcs, he was in no mood for mirth. He thought of those poor men, awaiting a grisly fate. He strung his great bow. It was time for fighting. He chose an arrow. His slim fingers smoothed the fletching on the long, white shaft.
Sharp elf eyes watched. Inch by inch the back door opened, as if by a draft. In the shadows Legolas knelt, his great bow bent, the slim shaft nocked. Gimli stood behind him, a throwing axe ready.
A splendid scene rolled before Gimli’s mind’s eye. The dwarf’s great axe would sing and once again Middle Earth would ring with loud dwarven battle shouts. The orcs would rush through the back door and into the killing ground of the alley. The prisoners would be set free and led out the front by the brave hobbits.
Just then, there was a noise behind them. Another rat ran from the dumpster. It had a scrap of meat in its mouth. There was a loud thunk, the snap of a crossbow cord. A bolt splintered on the pavement. At the same time, a pistol shot banged and glass shattered. There was a loud squeal and harsh cursing in the foul orc tongue.
40 The Frying Pan
Legolas raised his arm and waved it forward. At the signal, his troops dashed along the alley in the direction of the warehouse door. Gimli was a mere step behind the elf when he entered the building. As they drew closer, Black Pete’s men fired at grotesque faces in the windows. Glass shards rained down. Crossbows jutted out the broken windows and bolts skittered on the pavement below.
Inside the warehouse, in the dim gloom, Legolas narrowed his eyes and fired at howling monsters in the loft above and along catwalk vantage points at the high windows. Transfixed through the throat, one of the creatures choked out its last wet sounds. Another arrow left the string and a second sentry fell from the suspended walkway to the workshop floor below cracking his hard skull on the cement floor. Another arrow, and a sentry on the left side of the room tumbled to the floor, a white shaft protruding from his eye socket.
Gimli grumbled. “Leave a few for me,” he said under his breath.
“You won last time,” Legolas quipped softly back, as he stalked into the enemy barracks.
There was a feral grin on his fine features. It was a look that turned enemies cold. Already another arrow was on the string and loosed. A grunt of pain and a long exhale.
Black Pete’s men had climbed the outside fire-escape and entered the windows high above the floor. The staccato fire of automatic pistols ripped the still air. Slowly, the orcs rose from their napping and began to reach under their cots.
“Aii” Legolas screamed to those behind him. “Guns.”
Out came street-sweepers, sawed off shotguns with wide barrels. The biggest orcs leveled sturdy AK-47s and a few had sleek Uzi machine pistols. The building erupted into a firestorm of full metal jackets, screams and breaking furniture.Legolas slung his bow across his back in favor of his small automatic. He cracked off head shots at the most eminent threats. Gimli’s hand closed around his chromed 44 Magnum. The big orc barring his way fell at Gimli’s feet, shot through the thick skull, brains splattering in all directions.
The dwarf caught the street-sweeper the orc dropped. Swinging right, Gimli aimed both barrels at a knot of orcs heading up the stairs toward the loft and the youngsters firing from above. A crack like thunder and the orcs roared. A third of their number fell back, wounded, screaming and cursing their foes.
Juanito’s gang pressed in through the door behind the elf and dwarf. They were lightly armed but they had vendettas. Their southern forests had been torched. Their countrymen had been butchered and eaten by the foul creatures littering the floor. The young men fanned out and dispatched the wounded orcs. It was knife work.
“Chupacabras,” Juanito said, spitting on the orc corpses.
“What does he mean, Legolas?” Gimli asked, pausing to reload the streetsweeper from a wide bandoleer.
“Demons in their country, Gimli,” Legolas said, covering his friend. “Creatures that feed on the blood of the flocks when they cannot get their fill of men’s blood.”
Within minutes, the orcs were dead. A few may have escaped through bolt holes in the floor, but not many. The fight had been bloody and mercilessly swift. Three of Juanito’s gang had taken injuries. Slashes and gashes from orc teeth.
“Clean the wounds well,” Legolas advised them. “Then, bear the pain of iodine. An orc's mouth is foul. A bite is always poisonous.”
Black Pete’s young men suffered two serious casualties. One was near death and the other would probably lose his arm. They were carried outside and to a place of safety. Mirandwyn wrote down the address and called for an ambulance. The story they’d use was a common one. A drive-by shooting by a rival gang. No, they didn’t know who did it.
Eorand was the first one to find Brandybuck and Underhill. They’d circled back and popped out of thin air next to the boy who had been watching outside for any reinforcements. Their reunion was joyful until they heard the familiar sounds of helicopters. All the gunfire must have alerted the authorities.
Go on to Chapters 41-50
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