The Chronicles of Smith & Jones

Chapter Seven - Spunky Heroine

Smith opened his eyes quickly. Where on earth were they this time? He stared around and realised that wherever they were, it certainly wasn't Earth. Red sandy hills stretched for miles in all directions, dotted by scraggy blue bushes and the occasional tall yellow tree.

At least no-one was singing Kumbaya. In fact the place seemed to be deserted apart from his own small party. Maybe they could relax here and have a bit of a rest - he was dying for a cup of tea.

A scream of outrage pierced the air and his right eardrum. He spun around hastily and was astonished to see a young woman dressed in a white flowing robe, standing between himself and Jones. She had long blonde hair, decorated with a band of flowers around her brow, and rather large breasts swelling provocatively over the top of her gown. It took him a few startled minutes to realise this was Kris. It was the expression on her face which gave him the clue - sheer outraged fury.

"What the fuck?" she yelled, at least, that was what she fully intended would come out of her rosebud mouth. Instead she heard herself say faintly, "Oh dear!"

"Where are we?" Jones was asking querulously. He and Smith were both wearing dark brown padded jackets and riding trousers and had swords in their belts.

"I wonder if we are in a candlepunk loop?" H'ver's tentative tones broke through Kris's swearing. Although perhaps swearing was not quite the right term for expressions such as "Bother!" "Drat!" and "Darn!" which were coming from Kris's lips.

Just at that moment, a large animal burst over the hill in front of them, showering everyone with red sand as it reared to a hasty stop. It had a long sinuous neck and resembled nothing so much as a cross between a camel and a dragon - but without the wings. It was snorting loudly, jewelled eyes rolling, and arching its neck.

A woman was on its back, controlling the beast easily with the reins held in one hand. She was clad entirely in red leather, with two swords crossed behind her back and a rather large black semi-automatic machine gun tucked casually under one arm. She tossed her red hair out of her eyes and looked coolly at the small group who were rather crossly trying to brush the sand off their clothing.

"Are you with Dan's mob?" she demanded.

"I am sorry, my good woman, but I have no idea to whom you are referring," answered Smith, a touch pompously. He frowned as she ignored him to peer over their heads.

"Duck!" she yelled and swung the machine gun up. "Rat-atat-atat!" Bullets flew overhead in a wide arc and all four travellers, H'ver included, found themselves face down on the ground without a second thought.

A long moment later, the firing ceased. "That's got them!" the woman said in a satisfied voice. Spitting out sand, Smith scrambled a trifle shakily to his feet and looked over his shoulder. Four bodies dressed in black lay on the sand a few yards away. Blood soaked into the sand and four guns lay in their outstretched hands.

"Guess you're not with Dan's mob, then," the strange woman announced calmly.

Jones helped Kris to her feet as Smith bent down to set H'ver the right way up. H'ver was making an unfortunate squeaky grinding sound, just as a robot would if it had sand caught in its bearings.

"Who are you?" demanded Kris suspiciously, shaking off Jones' hand which was lingering unaccountably on her waist. Kris was examining the woman's red hair and rather large breasts and - somehow she knew, even though it was currently being sat upon - that she would have an incredibly pert bottom.

"Just call me Killer," smirked the stranger. "And you are? Don't tell me - a princess on the run with her loyal guards?"

Kris kicked angrily at the hem of her gown. This bitch needed taking down a peg or two. If only she had her normal clothes and her weapons, she would have her flat on her back in seconds. "Who's a princess? I'll give you princess! I'm a warrior, a fighter."

But Killer was shaking her head, a touch of unwilling sympathy in hers eyes. "Sorry. Not here you're not. This is Spunky Heroine genre and I'm the Spunky Heroine. There's only one of us per story - you'll have to be either the princess in distress or the evil scheming harridan, plotting to take control of the planet, and I'm afraid you look like the princess to me."

"I'm a fighter, not a fucking princess!" screamed Kris. But to her dismay, no sound was coming from her lips. She could feel her strength and outrage fading, even as she stood there. A sudden desire to pick flowers and perhaps take up needlework, was lapping horrifyingly at the edges of her mind.

"No!!" Grabbing at the last vestiges of her personality, Kris leaped forward and wrenched at Killer's red boot. Taken by surprise, the warrior woman lost her balance and fell to the sand. In a flash Kris hoisted up her gown and jumped on top of her, trying to land a punch on her flawless chin.

Smith and Jones stared in amazement. For some odd reason they felt rather excited by the scene in front of them.

H'ver didn't notice. He was busy rotating his appendages, trying to remove the grit, and wondering whether he could manoeuvre his vacuum tube to suck the last of the sand out of his toaster.

Kris was struggling to make a fist, her hand kept wanting to stroke Killer's hair gently back from her forehead, and Killer was looking up at her with a very peculiar expression on her face when suddenly a blinding white light ...