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Andrew Roller Presents
JUPITER RISING
Chapter Sixteen
ÒWeÕll go in the back way,Ó Hephaestus said to me as the cab let us
out at the rear of the UC Mercy building. Pan nodded to us from behind the
wheel of his cab. He would wait here for us, or someplace nearby that was
safe if this proved not to be. There was, of course, no payment required.
He lived to serve, to serve me specifically, I realized, and it was a strange
thought. Just days ago IÕd been a geeky, nerdy virgin living alone in some
ratty apartment in Sanramento. Now, although ill clad, I was physically
strong and had people willing to help me. I even had a girlfriend, if I could
get her back. Hephaestus waved his gun at me.
ÒDonÕt hesitate to shoot people if they resist you, my Lord,Ó the
ragged old man said to me, walking confidently with his cane but not
entirely without need of it, leaning on it like some favorite totem. I
looked at the copÕs pistol in my hands.
ÒTo tell the truth, IÕve never fired a gun before,Ó I told Hephaestus.
ÒNeither had I, until today,Ó Hephaestus answered. In the distance
there was a grating squeak. Both of us turned and I saw the cab driver,
Pan, looking with awkward confusion at a harmonica in his hands. He
seemed to be expecting something else there. Hephaestus caught his
attention and frowned and waved to him to kill the harmonica. Was he
trying to draw the copsÕ attention? I only saw one cop by the service
entrance at the back of the building but one was more than I wished to
encounter, and there could be more. We werenÕt the cavalry and we
werenÕt looking for someone to play a bugle-charge. Especially on a cheap
harmonica. Pan smiled sheepishly at us. HeÕd offered to come with us but
Hephaestus had told him to stay with the cab. WeÕd doubtless have to
make a quick getaway. He still had the engine running and I hoped the cop
sitting by the buildingÕs back entrance wouldnÕt notice the sound of it.
Hephaestus and I walked quickly past several parked cars. The cop
was reading a magazine. Penthouse, I saw, as we got closer. If heÕd been
a pedophile maybe heÕd have noticed us coming, but he was busily
engrossed in pictures of non-virgin tit-enhanced sluts. Hephaestus was on
him before I was; a quick swing of his cane and the man was out cold on
the ground. A breeze rippled the pages of Penthouse. I stepped over the
magazine and Hephaestus punched the button of the freight elevator that
the cop had been guarding. There was a grinding of gears. Up from the
buildingÕs cellar the elevator came. It was slow. I could feel the seconds
loitering as it rose. Hephaestus motioned to me to step to one side; he
went to the other side of the still-closed elevator door. Then the door
burst open, but inside it was just an empty box, waiting to deliver us to
whatever floor we wanted.
ÒLetÕs go,Ó Hephaestus said to me, and went tap-tapping with his
cane into the box, me following. The elevator doors shut behind us and
Hephaestus pushed the button for the floor of Emergency Admissions.
Specifically, the Pediatric Ward, which was up on floor seven, I saw, far
from the main emergency room, far from easy truth and clarity of thought,
up high where webs of deceit could be spun.
Such were the thoughts running through my mind as the elevator
ascended. Then suddenly we were there, at the seventh floor. The
elevator jerked to a stop and the doors drew wide. Hephaestus was the
first to step out. Almost immediately his gun fired; it was a deafening
sound, tearing me back to the present and presenting me with a bloody
body lying on the floor as I came out of the elevator.
ÒBehold your God!Ó Hephaestus cried with a strange confidence.
People stood in the hallway beyond him; more shots were fired; I saw two
cops fall, next to a hapless orderly whom Hephaestus had been first to
shoot. Suddenly something snapped past my right ear. I turned, felt
awkward as I wheeled about with my gun. It was all so unfamiliar! I felt
like I was suddenly in some war movie, or strange cop spectacle, yet for
all I knew this was real, the gun in my hand and now my quick decision to
murder the police officer who had just fired at me from behind. He went
down, my aim was uncommonly accurate for a geek whoÕd never fired a gun
before.
Hephaestus and I blasted our way down the hall. We managed to find
the room where they had Lisa; it wasnÕt too hard, just shoot and kill the
people trying to block our way. Lisa was lying unconscious on a medical
examining table. Someone had raised a metal bar, crib-like, along one side
of the table. They had tied poor little LisaÕs right wrist to the bar with a
length of rubber surgical tubing. Angrily I spun about. One of the
orderlies was crouching in the corner. It was a man. I felt disgust, and,
for the second time this morning, rage. What was a man doing in this den
of iniquity, fooling with my Lisa? Hephaestus shot the other orderly, as
she tried to run out the back of the examining room. It was a woman, the
only gender, except for the male cops, that seemed appropriate for this
level of the building.
ÒGet up, you fucking weenie!Ó I shouted to the orderly. I grabbed his
hand and wrenched him up. ÒWhat have you done to Lisa?Ó I cried.
Immediately, before IÕd even released his hand, a change seemed to come
over him. Formerly fat and short and bald, with a little Hitler-style
mustache, the orderly grew taller and more beautiful. And his
countenance changed from abject fear to a kind of quiet resolve.
ÒI apologize, my Lord,Ó the man answered me. ÒI can revive her if
you wish.Ó
ÒYes!Ó I commanded this newly-beautiful and cooperative man. And I
knew his name too: Apollo.
A hail of bullets ricochetted in the hallway just outside. There was
a scream in my ear:
ÒShit! Swat team!Ó Hephaestus yelled to me. Another spray of
bullets announced themselves, and this time two of them came slamming
into the examining room. If they wanted to protect little Lisa, they
werenÕt going to let it slow them down in killing me! Or Hephaestus, for
that matter, who looked down at his arm and saw that his ragged coat
sleeve had been torn open, letting loose a trickle of blood.
We hit the floor. Hephaestus and I both fired. Meanwhile behind us,
Apollo injected Lisa with something. I felt his quiet confidence behind us
and it reassured me. Hephaestus turned and looked back over his shoulder,
as ever more alert than even I was.
ÒGet her down off that table!Ó Hephaestus yelled at Apollo. Quickly
the orderly complied, and just in time too, as another hail of bullets went
ripping across the surface of the table that Lisa had just been lying on!
ÒWe had to kill the children to save them,Ó Hephaestus muttered. He
gave me a wry look. ÒWaco,Ó he told me, but I knew the source of the
quote. Then he aimed down the hallway again and decided to even the
score, in the matter of flying bullets.
Except he couldnÕt.
ÒShit!Ó Hephaestus cried. His gun was out of ammo and, after
getting off another shot myself, I realized IÕd wasted all my bullets too.
Well, perhaps I was being harsh on myself: I had managed to kill a cop, but
IÕm afraid the rest were spent in geeky bravado. I looked at Hephaestus.
ÒAre you Butch Cassidy or am I?Ó I said. He gave me another wry
look, strained now by weariness.
ÒIÕm getting too old for this shit,Ó Hephaestus said.
ÒSo am I,Ó I said reflectively. Hephaestus lay thinking a moment as
the SWAT team let us know they were still alive and kicking, by ripping
apart the table Lisa had been lying on with another hail of bullets.
ÒThey must be in the Air Force,Ó Hephaestus muttered to me.
ÒHuh?Ó I asked.
ÒAim high,Ó he said. Then suddenly, as if quickened with new life or
receding years, he leapt up. I guess it was just a sudden burst of
enthusiasm for he almost toppled to the floor again before his cane caught
him. I watched over my shoulder as he raced, as quickly as an old man
could, back to the counter where the orderlies kept their medical supplies.
I heard a clattering sound. A jar of surgical Q-tip swabs went spilling
onto the floor. Hephaestus bent down and grabbed some and tossed them
to me. Just then there was another burst of gunfire and this time the
SWAT team didnÕt aim so high. Hephaestus fell, hit in the torso! ÒGet--
those!Ó Hephaestus yelled to me, groaning as the pain of being hit
overwhelmed him. I reached back and picked up some Q-tip swabs. Is this
what Hephaestus was telling me to take? I was about to toss them:
obviously he meant I should take his gun, didnÕt he? But suddenly the Q-
tip swabs evaporated in my hand in a puff of smoke. I felt a surge of
power run up my arm. What the Hell was happening to me?
ÒStand up,Ó Hephaestus ordered me. I looked into his eyes, they were
pained from his being hit. Was he crazy? The SWAT team would slice me
in half if I stood! ÒStand up!Ó he yelled at me again. ÒYou are armed, my
Lord. Hurl your thunderbolts!Ó
It hit me that Hephaestus meant the Q-tip swabs, which in fact I
wasnÕt holding anymore, since theyÕd vanished the moment IÕd grabbed
them. I guess you do crazy things when youÕre desperate, because the next
minute I was up on my feet, despite the utter sureness in my mind that the
SWAT team was going to drop me just like theyÕd dropped Hephaestus, only
with gunfire that was certain to kill me.
ÒNow! Do it!Ó the old man cried from behind me. I was sure he was
going crazy but, on a sudden impulse, I lifted my right hand, in which there
was absolutely nothing, my copÕs gun still lying on the floor. Drawing my
hand back as if to pitch a baseball (something which, being a geek, I was
terrible at) I suddenly threw forth a blaze of fire!
Lightning, to be specific. It went cracking down the hallway and the
whole building trembled. Behind me Hephaestus let out a cry that sounded
like relieved glee; his theory about the Q-tips, crazy as it had seemed, had
worked! There was a rattle of gunfire in the stillness that followed. It
sounded half-hearted, though, and I quickly answered it with another blast
of lightning.
Then we were running down the hall, myself and Apollo, who was
carrying Lisa. Hephaestus, still wounded, was hanging on my arm, tapping
the floor intermittently with his cane, being hurried along by me too
quickly to really make use of it. We didnÕt have the copsÕ guns anymore.
WeÕd left them behind in the examining room along with the ripped up
table and their nasty syringes and all their other crap. We didnÕt need
anything, except the handful of Q-tips Hephaestus was clutching; in case
the power in my hand should run dry.
No, we didnÕt need the things of man anymore. I had my thunderbolts.
We made our way to the elevator and found that the cops had
disabled it. No matter, we moved on; I hurled more lightning as we
encountered the remnants of the SWAT team. I sent them burning off to
Hell.
We made our way down through the building, floor by floor.
Hephaestus, on my arm, was healing quickly. No treatment was necessary,
he healed just as I had after falling out of the police car, naturally, as if
by divine will. Meanwhile Lisa was fully revived now; she gazed about
with wide eyes as Apollo carried her. I wanted to kiss her but there was
no time. She understood that, I think, urging me with her big frightened
eyes to move on, to keep hurling, to blast us out of that fucking shit pile
of cops and so-called ÒdoctorsÓ and ÒnursesÓ.
And then, quite suddenly, on the lowest floor of the building, we
were all out of Q-tips. Hephaestus frantically looked around. We were
standing in a foyer near the buildingÕs front door. IÕd tried to lead us out
the back way but I guess IÕd gotten lost.
ÒBehold your God!Ó Hephaestus cried, when a new team of police shot
at us from outside. Their gunfire came bursting through a bank of
windows by the buildingÕs front door. We hit the floor; too late! All of us,
even my dearest Lisa, were cut by flying glass.
ÒTake me! Take me!Ó Lisa cried to me, and I kissed her now, as she
lay in ApolloÕs arms. The man was lying mostly on top of her, trying to
protect her from the incoming fire.
ÒBehold your God!Ó Hephaestus cried out at the cops, but they
werenÕt listening and answered us with more gunfire. Something ripped
across my back. I felt intense pain; it had almost hit my spine, I realized,
but my powerful shoulder blade had deflected the bullet, just enough, but
leaving my right arm, my thunder arm, lying immobile beside me!
ÒTake me! Take me!Ó Lisa cried again to me. Tears were streaming
down her face.
ÒIÕm trying to take you out of here!Ó I answered her. She rolled her
eyes. Suddenly, leaping like a little cat, she was upon me. And I suddenly
realized what she wanted, and it appalled me.
I mean, IÕd enjoyed myself with little Lisa, no doubt about it. But IÕd
always gone out of my way to protect her hymen. I frankly liked the fact
that she was a virgin. She was my little virgin, and technically I was still
a virgin too, since we hadnÕt actually had intercourse together, just seen
what part of me might fit (albeit quite tightly) into her. Now she wanted
me to fuck her! Right there on the floor of UC Mercy, in full view of the
cops.
ÒLisa, quit it!Ó I said to her as she grabbed at my pants. It was hard
for me to get her off me. The cops had rendered my good right arm
incapacitated, at least until the divine healing, or whatever it was, kicked
in. But, still with tears streaming down her face, Lisa was adamant. Can
you imagine what it felt like for me, having my pants pulled off of me by a
little girl? In front of who-knows-how-many cops? Well, thatÕs what
happened. And it didnÕt stop with my dick coming out. Despite LisaÕs
petite youth and my increasingly enormous and powerful size, I fucked her.
And when I did, the whole world changed.
30
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