David Robbins - New Orleans Run

The prospect of seeing his friends again filled Lynx with joy. He could barely contain himself as the outer door opened and he was ushered outside. And there they stood, covered by four tonton macoutes : Ferret, Gremlin, and Eleanore DeCoud.

“Lynx!” Gremlin exclaimed happily, and wagged bound arms. “Are you okay, yes?”

“I’m fine,” Lynx responded. He grinned and sauntered over to them.

Oddly, Ferret avoided meeting his gaze. “What about you guys?”

“We weren’t harmed, no,” Gremlin said.

“Speak for yourself,” Ferret muttered, studiously staring into the distance.

“What happened?” Lynx asked.

“You tell him,” Ferret instructed the humanoid.

“Poor Ferret was beat on by these fiends, yes.”

“Are you all right?” Lynx inquired of his fellow hybrid.

Again Ferret addressed Gremlin. “Would you tell this—human—that I’m alive, no thanks to him.”

Lynx glanced at the humanoid, who shrugged, then at Ferret. “What’s going on here? Aren’t you talking to me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have a year to go into the reasons.”

“Oh. Is that right? I’m beginning to think you’re a bit ticked off at me.”

“ A bit ?” Ferret unexpectedly exploded, and before anyone could guess his intent, before any of the tonton macoutes could intervene, before Gremlin could stop him, he sprang forward, sweeping his arms up and out. Despite the cord binding his wrists he managed to open his hands wide enough clamp his fingers on the cat-man’s throat.

“Ferret! No, no!” Gremlin cried.

“What the hell!” Captain Francois blurted out in amazement.

The best Lynx could do was grab his friend’s arm and utter a sound that came out as “Gaaaacck!”

To Ferret, the few seconds he had his hands on the cat’s neck were sheer rapture. He didn’t actually squeeze enough to do any harm, but the simple sensation of applying enough pressure to cause Lynx to cough and sputter, and beholding the inanely stupid expression on his chronic tormentor, produced a profound ecstasy.

“Pull them apart!” Captain Francois barked.

Two men in black shouldered their weapons and moved in, one tugging on Lynx while the other attempted to pry Ferret’s hands off. When this second man realized the mutation’s diminutive size belied the steely strength resident in the hybrid’s slim limbs, he called out for help.

Lynx wheezed and thrashed, frantically striving to pull free.

Three more tonton macoutes rushed to the assistance of their comrades, and between the four of them they were finally able to tear Ferret’s hands loose.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Captain Francois demanded angrily. “I thought the two of you were friends.”

Inhaling raggedly, Lynx glanced at the officer and tried to speak. His throat hurt like hell and he had to lick his lips and wet his mouth before he succeeded. “So did I,” he croaked.

Ferret, held fast by four men in black, startled everyone by throwing back his head and cackling, uproariously, uncontrollably venting the emotional release he needed, laughing in supreme delight.

“The freak is crazy, sir,” one of the tonton macoutes commented.

“You may be right,” Francois concurred.

Lynx glanced at Gremlin, stunned to find the humanoid snickering, then at Ferret. “What was that all about, you idiot! You almost killed me!”

Ferret only laughed louder.

“I don’t see what’s so damn funny,” Lynx snapped, completely confused.

“Neither do I,” Captain Francois declared. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I do know we will not have a repeat of this performance or the offender will suffer the painful consequence.” He paused and stared at the man restraining Ferret. “Let him go.”

The quartet promptly obeyed.

“Since you obviously can’t be trusted together,” Francois went on, “I’m going to have two of my men walk between each of you. There will be no talking whatsoever. Understood?”

“Where are we going?” Lynx inquired.

“For a little stroll,” Francois said, and swept his men with a stern stare.

“All right. Fall in.”

Lynx stepped over to Eleanore, who had witnessed the incident in stunned silence, and noticed her eyes were drooping. “Hey, sweetcheeks. How are you holdin’ up?”

“Okay,” she replied weakly. “I could use some sleep, though.”

“Have they, fed you yet?”

“No.”

The cat-man turned toward the officer. “Before we go anywhere, why don’t you feed the babe?”

“That’s not possible,” Captain Francois answered.

“Sure it is, dimwit. Just go over to the fancy house over there and ask the kitchen help for some leftovers.”

“Your insolence is becoming annoying, freak. When I said feeding her isn’t possible, I meant it. Besides, food is the least of her worries.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind. And now you’ll shut your furry face or we’ll kick your teeth in.”

Furious, Lynx opened his mouth, then thought better of the notion. His intuition told him he’d need to be in tiptop shape to handle whatever the tutti-fruittis threw at him. Reluctantly, he held his temper in check and smiled reassuringly at Eleanore.

She feebly returned the smile.

The tonton macoutes arranged themselves as the captain had stipulated, separating the hybrids and the woman from each other. At a word from Francois the detail headed for the mansion with him in the lead.

Lynx hiked behind two men in black, sullenly plotting to disembowel every last tonton macoute on the planet. He was extremely concerned about the woman. She needed food and rest badly, and there had to be a way he could get her both. Preoccupied with his musing, he failed to pay special attention to the mansion until they were within 30 yards of the portico. Then he glanced up in consternation at the subdued murmur of many voices to discover over four dozen men in black standing in formation, at ease, on the lawn near the front door.

Look at them all!

Where had they all come from? Lynx wondered. He hadn’t seen anywhere near that many when he’d arrived at the compound. A glance over his left shoulder at the gate in the south wall showed him more tonton macoute hurrying in from the pier. He also glimpsed 25 or 30 boats tied at dock.

The dorks must be arriving from all over.

Which did not bode well.

Lynx frowned and gazed at the mansion. They wouldn’t be calling in all the troops unless the activity planned for the night was very special. What did black-magic types do for kicks anyway?

The murmur of conversation abruptly ceased when the door opened and out strode a man dressed in red and a woman wearing a green dress.

Instantly the tonton macoutes snapped to attention.

Captain Francois led his detail straight up to the steps and bowed.

“Here are the prisoners, your lordship,” he announced.

“The Baron and Majesta,” Eleanore stated in evident horror, raising the back of her left hand to her mouth.

Smirking wickedly, the man called the Baron came down and stood next to the officer. The malevolent gaze fastened onto Eleanore. “Well, well, well. It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Ms. DeCoud?”

“You bastard!”

The Baron chuckled and looked up at the woman in green. “Look who’s here, Majesta. Our old friend Eleanore.”

“Hello, Eleanore,” the mambo said sweetly, “Screw you.”

“It appears she’s developed an attitude problem,” Majesta remarked sarcastically.

“Poor Eleanore always was an independent thinker,” the Baron mentioned. “Perhaps that’s why she saw fit to join the Resistance after her stay here was over.”