Hero Go Home

Previously: Twain decided to go back in time and set up his seduction of Yi Fan. And now…

Twain knew as soon as he touched the duffel bag holding the cup that something was wrong. It was cool. Not just cool, but damp. And once he opened the bag, the sticky-sweet odor became unmistakable. The container of shendu guotsu had come open somehow and leaked all over the inside of the bag.

He needed more, but he didn’t know how long it might take to find some. It was extremely rare and extremely expensive. His plans would have to wait until he could track down a source.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]All he had to do, once he ended up in the past, was kiss Yi Fan (which he totally didn’t mind) and convince her that he loved her, which shouldn’t be tough considering how incredibly lonely she obviously was…[/blockquote]The door opened and Ari entered, wearing a chauffeur’s uniform. He glanced at the body on the floor and quickly looked away. “I’m supposed to help you carry the body out to the car.” He sniffed. “Did somebody spill the juice in here?”

“Not just any juice,” Twain said.

“Smells like shendu guotsu,” Ari said.

“How would you know that?” Twain asked. “It’s incredibly rare.”

“Not here,” Ari said. “The fruit grows right on the slopes of Moon Ridge. We should have a gallon or two in here somewhere.”

But a quick check of the shelves turned up nothing. “Don’t worry, we’ll get some more,” Ari said. “It’s in every corner store.”

“I need some right now,” Twain said and turned to leave.

“Wait, you can’t go out,” Ari said. “At least help me with the body first.”

So Twain helped Ari load Biryukov’s body into the trunk of Biryukov’s limo, where the naked body of the chauffeur already lay. As Ari drove off with a couple of other servants to dispose of the bodies, Twain walked out the gates of the estate and down the street to a nearby market. He wasn’t worried about being spotted. Wearing Biryukov’s uniform should shield him from unwanted attention. Besides, there was hardly anybody on the streets except a Chinese couple having a quiet argument beside their car.

As Ari had said, the market had plastic jugs of the precvious juice right out on the shelves, cheap. Twain bought one and walked back to the estate. Once inside, he filled the cup, then set it out on a back patio to soak up the sun for an hour.

All he had to do, once he ended up in the past, was kiss Yi Fan (which he totally didn’t mind) and convince her that he loved her, which shouldn’t be tough considering how incredibly lonely she obviously was. The only other thing he needed to tell her was when to expect him back at that yurt her security forces had picked him up from.

When an hour had passed, he went out on the patio, making sure to take the mask with him, and picked up the cup. But before he could drink, he heard running footsteps approaching. He turned and saw a woman in a Chinese dress almost upon him, and threw the liquid in her face in a defensive reflex.

As the woman disappeared, Twain realized it had been Digger. In a dress.

That’s right, Digger and Metalord have arrived, so get ready for two or three weeks of drawn-out conversation over tea and scones. Or just maybe there might be a fight. Be here next week for our (hopefully on time) next thrilling episode of Run, Digger, Run!

To read from the beginning, click here…

***No Out of the Vault today as I catch up on the week’s episodes. I’m sorry they’re so late.***

Previously: The monstrous Ghost Dragon killed Biryukov, the bald Russian, before fading away. And now…

“Take his clothes,” Yi Fan said. “There’s something I have to do.”

She walked out the door, leaving Twain in the pantry with Biryukov’s corpse. He knelt to close the staring eyes. He didn’t want the man watching while Twain stole his clothes.

How had he missed it, Twain wondered as his fingers worked the buttons on Biryukov’s jacket. He hadn’t had a definite plan when he came here, just several pieces to a puzzle: a blue man who had not always been blue, a glowing, blue crystal with the word ‘Moon’ on it, a legendary place of power called the City of the Moon jealously guarded by the blue man.

The pieces seemed to suggest that the Czar had gotten his power from the City of the Moon, and that he guarded it so jealously to keep others doing the same. Twain’s plan, such as it was, had been to sneak into the City of the Moon somehow and gain powers for himself. The mask had never been part of the equation, except as a source of emergency weapons if he got in trouble.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]Twain pulled Biryukov’s jacket off. There was blood on it, but maybe that would just give people more reason not to look him in the eye.[/blockquote]But he must have known on some level, ever since he had seen what it did to Digger, that it might do the same to the Czar, else why suffer the headache of transporting it with him?

Twain pulled Biryukov’s jacket off. There was blood on it, but maybe that would just give people more reason not to look him in the eye. From what Twain had seen and heard of the man, people would likely assume that it was not his blood.

He heard Yi Fan’s voice outside the door, giving orders in Russian. Yi Fan was a different problem. She was certainly beautiful, even with the scar. And there was something tragic about her, trapped and cursed. Most of the time, she seemed like a good-hearted person looking for love and a happy life, but victimized by forces beyond her control. Under normal circumstances, he could see himself falling for a woman who looked at him the way she did.

But these weren’t normal circumstances. She had a cold, frightening side. As the Cobalt Czar’s enforcer, people were terrified of her and with good reason. She had broken Twain’s finger without a second thought. And she had summoned forth the evil beast inside her to snap the neck of the man whose pants Twain was now pulling off.

No matter what some future version of him had said, there was no way he could fall in love with someone as unpredictable and terrifying as Yi Fan. But she was his ally only as long as she believed that they would, indeed, fall in love. And he needed her help if he was going to bring down the Czar and claim the power of the City of the Moon for himself.

Which made his next step suddenly clear. He had to go back in time and convince her that they would soon be lovers.

On the one hand, it seems like a vital part of the plan. On the other hand, TIME TRAVEL NEVER HELPS! What can possibly go wrong? Be here for the next thrilling episode to find out!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Yi Fan lamented that, now that the ghost knew about the mask’s power, she would be cursed forever. And now…

“What do you mean?” Twain said. “Just put the mask on again.”

“He won’t let me,” Yi Fan said. “You can’t see him now, but he’s here. He sees. He knows. If I tried to put the mask on again, he would stop me.”

“You can’t hold him back?”

Yi Fan shook her head. “I can call him forth, sometimes, like I did to kill Biryukov, but I can’t prevent…”

She trailed off, looking at Biryokov’s body on the floor, his head twisted obscenely backward. She gasped and grabbed at Twain, pulling up his shirt and running her hands over his firm abs. “You were shot,” she said. “And wearing different clothes. And your hair was longer, your skin darker. Did you somehow turn time backwards on your own body, to a time before you were shot?”

Twain laughed and shook his head. “No, I just… What the mask did to you, I can do to myself without it.”

“And what did the mask do to me?” she asked.

“It switched your body with another you, from a different reality where you were never cursed,” Twain said. “When I flip, I’m wearing the clothes I was wearing the last time, and my body is in the same condition. If I was tired, I’m tired again. If I was dirty, I’m dirty again.”

“So if you were to switch now…”

“My skin would be dark, and my hair would be short, and I would be dying from a gunshot wound.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]“I am possessed by an undead revenant who is 10 feet tall and thirsts for human death,” she said. “Sanity is not a luxury I can indulge…”[/blockquote]She shook her head wonderingly and touched his cheek, trailed her fingertips lightly down it. “There’s so much about you I don’t know, and yet, I feel as if I know the only thing that really matters.”

“Which is?”

“That you will love me, and that I will love you,” she said, and there was no doubt in her voice.

“You realize how crazy that sounds,” he said.

“I am possessed by an undead revenant who is 10 feet tall and thirsts for human death,” she said. “Sanity is not a luxury I can indulge.”

Twain could find no holes to poke in that argument. “So what should we do now?” he asked.

“We put the mask on the Czar and hope it changes him into an alternate version who never gained his powers,” Yi Fan said. “Once he is powerless, the Ghost Dragon can deal with him.”

“Who?”

“My spirit.”

“Okay, so step one: put the mask on the Czar,” Twain said. “How are we supposed to do that?”

“Biryukov and I head up his security forces,” Yi Fan said. “He trusts us to be alone with him.”

Twain looked down at the staring body on the floor. “But he’s dead.”

Yi Fan shook her head. “He’s a tall, bald white man that people are afraid to look in the eye. Shave your head and put on his clothes, and we can get a private audience with the Czar. No one will try to stop us until it’s too late.”

Can their crazy plan really work? Don’t miss tomorrow’s tension-filled episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Yi Fan released the ghostly, bestial creature inside her to kill Biryukov. The creature then told Twain that he was the one who brought the curse upon Yi Fan. And now…

“I did?” Twain asked.

The thing ignored him then, looked down and picked up the golden mask from the floor. “So this is what she thinks will lift her curse. Her shining hope of freedom. I should destroy it now, shouldn’t I?”

“To protect the Czar?” Twain asked.

The thing’s eyes flashed with anger, and the howling of the phantom wind took on a more strident tone. “He doesn’t need my protection.”

“And yet you serve him,” Twain said.

“I tried to destroy him, but failed,” said the ghost. “He spared me in exchange for my service, keeping the rabble in line. I will continue to serve him for as long as I am unable to defeat him, and not a moment longer.”

“Noble of you.”

“There is nothing noble about me, and being dead, I have no need to deceive myself that I am anything other than what I am.” The creature considered the mask again, naked greed on his face. “Do you really think this can bring him down?”

“I’m sure of it,” Twain said. “But I’ll need Yi Fan’s help. Return her to me, please.”

The creature turned petulant. “You don’t need her. She’s weak and gloomy. I’m strong and interesting.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]Use the mask only on the blue fool. Do not attempt to use it against me, now that I have seen what it can do. If you try it, you will wish for the luxuriously easy death that the cretin on the floor enjoyed…”[/blockquote]“But the Czar trusts her,” Twain said. He wasn’t sure how true it was, but she couldn’t have a mansion like the one she lived in without having the Czar’s favor. “I can get close to him through her. And I’m sure he would drop his guard around her in way he never would with you.”

“Yes, she is pretty. Fine, use her,” the creature said. “Use her and break her heart. Teach her that she can never be truly free from me.”

“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” Twain said.

“I do,” answered the creature. It brought its face down close to Twain’s, and even though it had no physical body, Twain was sure he smelled rot on its breath. “Use the mask only on the blue fool. Do not attempt to use it against me, now that I have seen what it can do. If you try it, you will wish for the luxuriously easy death that the cretin on the floor enjoyed. See you later, or perhaps before.”

The howling wind faded to silence as the creature dissolved from view. Yi Fan gasped as the thing released her from its control, and then she burst into tears.

Twain got to his feet and took Yi Fan into his arms. The scar was bright red against her face, as if it were fresh rather than years old. She buried her face against his shoulder, and he stroked her hair. His fingers avoided the white streak in her hair.

The tears didn’t last long. She gave a long, single sigh, then pushed back from him and swiped the tears from her face. “Are you okay?” Twain asked.

“I’m cursed,” she said, “and now that he knows about the mask, I’ll never be free.”

What will Twain and Yi Fan’s next move be? Don’t miss our next exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: As Metalord and Digger fought their way through China to reach Mongolia, violence had broken out in the pantry where Twain was being interrogated. And now…

Twain fell to the floor, borne down by Biryukov, who had slammed into him. Twain grabbed Biryukov’s arms to roll him off so that Twain could get up. But instead of rolling to the side, Biryukov went straight up, out of Twain’s grasp. Twain saw a look of shock and terror on the bald Russian’s face for just an instant before he was flung to the side to strike the wall head first. Something cracked, and Biryukov went limp.

But he didn’t fall. He was held up by a manlike creature, ten feet tall at least, hideous and massive. Although massive wasn’t at all the right word. It was, in fact, exactly the wrong word for a translucent creature that appeared more hologram than real–a thing with form, but not mass.

But it was big, a bestial man with pale, mottled skin, scraggly teeth, and long, white hair that whipped constantly in a wind that had arisen from nowhere and howled madly in the confined space of the pantry. It wore tattered and soiled robes of what had once been white silk.

The beast looked at Biryukov’s limp body held in its grasp. One huge hand gripped the front of Biryukov’s shirt while the other straddled the top of Biryukov’s bald head. The thing looked down at Twain and grinned at him as it twisted. Biryukov’s head turned almost completely backward with a horrible sound of bone grinding on bone, until the skin tore and blood dribbled down the side of his neck. The thing looked at Twain with glittering black eyes and chuckled.

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]The worst part was than Twain could see Yi Fan inside the thing, the scar returned to her face and the white streak to her hair, her eyes rolled back in her head to show only dead white, her hands twisting to mimic the beast’s movements. Or perhaps guiding them…[/blockquote]But horrible as that was, it wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was than Twain could see Yi Fan inside the thing, the scar returned to her face and the white streak to her hair, her eyes rolled back in her head to show only dead white, her hands twisting to mimic the beast’s movements. Or perhaps guiding them.

Yi Fan’s mouth formed words, mirrored by the beast’s lips, and somewhere in the howling of the wind, Twain heard a deep, hollow voice say, “I wondered if I’d ever see you again.”

Twain was surprised. Not by the idea that he’d encountered the creature before–it was boviously the thing that had struck him down that night outside the City of the Moon–but that it remembered his face from that dark night. “You thought I’d be too much of a coward to come back and try again?”

“I thought you’d be smart enough to finally understand what it was you had unleashed,” the thing said.

The thing appeared surprised by the evident confusion on Twain’s face. “You don’t remember,” it said, then turned its head as if someone were whispering in its ear. “Travel back in time? That seems a little far-fetched, doesn’t it?”

“What do you mean, ‘unleashed?’” Twain asked.

The creature smiled hideously. “I mean, you set me free from my imprisonment, years ago. You brought my curse upon Yi Fan.”

What’s the story behind that? You don’t want to miss tomorrow’s eye-opening episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Cole told Digger it was time to try Plan D. And now…

At a traffic checkpoint just outside Nanjing, Private Wah Siu-Ming waved the Ssangyong SUV to a stop. The driver rolled down the window as he approached. The driver was a little older than Siu-Ming. He wore sunglasses and a broad, dimwitted smile. “Hello,” the driver said. “Is there a problem?”

“We’re looking for a couple of fugitives,” Siu-Ming said, looking inside the vehicle. Besides the driver, there was a woman in the back seat, holding her head as if she had a headache. “Where are you coming from?”

“Shanghai,” the driver said. “Selling our vegetables. Then we celebrated a little too much.”

Siu-Ming looked more closely at the woman. He couldn’t see her face because her head was ducked, but what he could see was pale skin under heavy make-up. “Traditionalist, eh, making your wife ride in back?”

The man chuckled. “What can I cay? I’m old-fashioned. She rides in back in the car, but I let her take the lead in the fields.”

Farmers. Which almost explained the bread shoulders on the woman, but not the pale skin or the smooth fingers. “Let me see your identification,” Siu-Ming said.

“We don’t have any,” the man said. “We were pickpocketed.”

Behind his back, Siu-Ming waved frantically at his partner as he contined to talk calmly to the man. “That’s terrible. You know, you have a very interesting accent.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”] Siu-Ming drew his pistol and aimed it at the driver. On the passenger side of the vehicle, his partner did the same…[/blockquote]The man glanced nervously at Siu-Ming’s approaching partner as he said, “Yes, my whole family thinks I sound weird. Truth is, I think I actually learned Chinese mostly from the television. So I probably have an accent.”

“Yes, you do,” Siu-Ming said. “You and your wife need to step out of the car, please.”

“That isn’t really necessary, is it?” the man asked. “She has a terrible hangover.”

“It’s necessary.” Siu-Ming drew his pistol and aimed it at the driver. On the passenger side of the vehicle, his partner did the same. “Show me your hands and take off your sunglasses.”

The driver shrugged and raised his hands. “Fine, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

He pulled off his sunglasses to reveal silver eyes. Siu-Ming saw electricity crackle from them. Just then, the wife looked up in the back seat, and Siu-Ming saw that she was actually a man in a wig and make-up. He said something in a foreign language, and before Siu-Ming could tighten his finger on the trigger, the SUV had risen into the air and flown past the checkpoint, headed west.

***

Digger yanked off his wig as the car hurtled along barely twenty feet off the ground. “Was that really necessary?”

“Yeah, actually, it was.” Cole said. As the checkpoint disappeared over the horizon, the car turned and shot to the north.

“I thought the whole point of the disguises was to avoid suspicion,” Digger said.

“The point is to avoid capture,” Cole said. “Put the wig back on. We need to switch cars again, and then you can drive us the rest of the way.”

What will happen when Cole and Digger reach the Czar’s domain? And what’s going on with Twain, Yi Fan and the bald Russian? Join us next week for the next exciting chapter!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: Their stolen ambulance crippled, Cole is looking to get new clothes while Digger finds them a new ride. Or so Cole thinks. And now…

Cole ran to the clothesline, bare feet slapping against the pavement, trying not to think about the filth he might be running across. Which was ridiculous, he knew. You could not say with any certainty that this street in Shanghai was quantitatively dirtier than any given street back home in San Francisco. And besides, it wasn’t as if he could catch anything; Other than some super-bugs created by Rector Infector, he hadn’t been sick in fifteen years or more. He didn’t think he could get sick anymore.

And yet he couldn’t help feeling squicked out. The foreign street just felt so alienly icky against his soles. Too bad nobody hung their shoes out to dry on a clothesline.

Cole grabbed a pair of pants and hurriedly pulled them on as a door clattered open and a woman came out to yell at him. He let her get a good look at his silvery eyes and let a couple of sparks pop, and she ran back inside. Cole grabbed a shirt for himself, then looked over the other clothes hanging there to find something for Digger. He smiled.

When he turned around, he saw Digger’s feet hanging out the open back door of the ambulance as the sirens grew louder. “What are you doing?” he shouted as he ran back to the ambulance with the clothes tucked under his arm. “You were supposed to find us a car.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”left”]“Run!” Cole said and darted up an alleyway, Digger hot on his heels.They dodged under clotheslines and hurtled garbage bins…[/blockquote]Digger backed out of the ambulance. “Looking for whatever they shot me up with,” Digger said. “Cause number one, it makes me awesome with my powers.”

“It makes you insane.”

“And number two, my head’s starting to hurt,” Digger finished as if Cole hadn’t interrupted. “Damn, it’s a mess in there.”

“Yeah, maybe because somebody kept flipping us.”

Police cars rolled to a stop just twenty feet away.

“Run!” Cole said and darted up an alleyway, Digger hot on his heels.They dodged under clotheslines and hurtled garbage bins before coming out into the next main street over. Digger ran to a blue compact, an old Geely, and got in. By the time Cole climbed in beside him, Digger had the car started up. He peeled out as Cole was shutting the door. “So where are we going?” Digger asked.

“West,” Cole said. He groaned as he pulled the shirt he’d grabbed over his head. “West out of town, then we’ll turn north once we get to Nanjing.”

“You don’t want to fly us straight there?”

“I’m not up to fighting any more missiles for a while,” Cole said.  “Time for a new plan. Keep your eyes open for a market. We need shoes and make-up.”

“Why?”

“Well, we’ve tried Plan A, Cooperating, and we tried Plan B, Fighting, and Plan C got us blown out of the sky. So it’s time for Plan D.” He tossed the other clothes he’d brought into Digger’s lap.

Digger looked down. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Cole shrugged. “What can I say?” Plan D for Drag.”

I have nothing more to add. Don’t miss tomorrow’s exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…

Previously: As Digger and Cole Chen, Metalord, tried to escape police in a stolen ambulance, an old woman stepped out into the street in front of them. And now…

“Jeez, look out!” Cole shouted.

“Watch this,” Digger said, grinning as he yanked the wheel and hit the brake simultaneously.

The ambulance leaped into the air, twisting like a gymnast finishing off a tumbling run. The sound of the cots smashing around wildly in back almost drowned out the sound of Cole screaming as he hit his head against the ceiling. The ambulance soared over the old woman’s head through two complete rotations, then slammed down on all four tires again. It continued down the street at full speed, its shocks creaking as the top-heavy vehicle rocked wildly back and forth.

“That was awesome!” Digger screamed. “Like a skateboarder doing a kick flip!”

“What the hell, man?” Cole shouted, rubbing his head.

“What’s your problem?” Digger asked. “You did that kind of stuff to me all the way from San Francisco.”

“It’s fun when I do it,” Cole said, fastening his seat belt.

“I want to do it again,” Digger said. “No, wait.”

[blockquote type=”blockquote_quotes” align=”right”]He yanked the wheel hard and slammed on the brake. Tires screeched on the pavement as the ambulance skidded into a 180-degree turn. Digger hit the gas, and the ambulance shot straight at the pursuing police cars, which swerved desperately out of his way…[/blockquote]He yanked the wheel hard and slammed on the brake. Tires screeched on the pavement as the ambulance skidded into a 180-degree turn. Digger hit the gas, and the ambulance shot straight at the pursuing police cars, which swerved desperately out of his way.

“What are you doing?” Cole shouted above the bedlam of police cars crashing into buildings on either side.

“We passed an electronics store a ways back,” Digger said. “I want you to get a camera and film me doing that flip. I want to see it from the outside.”

“You’re crazy,” Cole said. “This is what people feel like when they’re with me.”

“What’s wrong now?”

“I can’t buy a camera,” Cole said, “because I don’t have any money. Because I don’t have any pockets. Because I don’t have any pants!”

Digger glanced down at Cole, then back to the road. “Oh yeah. Fine, let’s get you some clothes.”

He pulled the wheel hard left, and the ambulance slewed onto a side street. He stomped the gas, and the ambulance leapt forward with an eager growl, siren screaming. This street was narrower than the last, and the ambulance whipped by slower-moving vehicles too closely for Cole’s comfort.

“Are you crazy?” Cole shouted. “You’ll kill somebody!”

“Naw, if somebody gets in our way, I’ll just do this again.” Digger yanked the ambulance into another kick flip, higher and more impressive than the last, but the overstressed tires on the right side blew out when they landed. The ambulance listed right, but kept driving, metal rims shrieking against the pavement.

“Aw, hell. Sorry, dude.” Digger patted the dash. He shut off the siren and brought the ambulance to a stop in the middle of the street.

He and Cole got out of the ambulance, attracting stares from the gathering crowd. The police sirens grew closer. “So what do we do now?” Digger asked.

“You grab us another car,” Cole said. He pointed at a nearby clothesline strung between two buildings. “I’ll get us some clothes.”

Will Digger and Cole escape? What else can go wrong? Join us tomorrow for our next exciting episode!

To read from the beginning, click here…