HENTY'S FIST 1: GAUNTLET RUN by Andre Jute, Dakota Franklin, Andrew McCoy

35 HENTY'S FIST 1: GAUNTLET RUN by Andre Jute, Dakota Franklin, Andrew McCoy

HENTY'S FIST 1: GAUNTLET RUN: birth of a superhero by Andre Jute, Dakota Franklin and Andrew McCoy. 60,000 words in 76 chapters.

CHAPTER 35

The police will create an atmosphere, an environment, even a model of social relations. — Jacques Ellul

“And I was having such a pleasant dream,” Henty said aloud in that awful stillness that always follows a really big explosion, in that moment of absolutely no movement in which the train hung suspended by nothing but thin air over that river.

Then the grain truck fell away from under Henty and she saw the water below her and the bounty hunters on the shore opposite shooting off zipguns and shotguns and deer rifles at her.

 “Between the devil and the deep blue sea,” Henty said aloud. Her grandmother had always said it on Sundays when she had to choose between two equally tempting deserts. Except Henty had no choice. She was falling towards that broad stretch of water and the bounty hunters were shooting at her.

While Henty fell, several other superfluous charges went off and the whole of the bridge, a part of the embankment (and several of the bounty hunters) were blown to smithereens. Henty, not knowing it, had her hands over her ears as she fell into the water. The bounty hunters, mistaking this for the thrown-up arms of a person who has been hit, cheered and then started arguing among themselves about who had hit her: the argument soon led to shooting and a few more bounty hunters bit the dust before unanimity of a sort once more descended on the river bank and they got around to launching the inflatable with its outboard.

Henty used this small break to swim underwater as far as a truck that was floating upside down, and hiding behind it. The Rock River, here so near to its junction with the mighty Mississippi, was broad and fast flowing and very frightening. Henty looked longingly at the far shore, where all the bounty hunters had blown themselves up by clumsily overdoing the dynamite but it was too far and the water too swift for her limited swimming skills. Besides, the bounty hunters would be able to see her all the way and have ample opportunity to shoot her in the back.

So Henty stayed where she was and in trepidation awaited the heavily armed bounty hunters coming out in their boat.

“But I’m not going to go down without a fight,” she told herself to keep her spirits up.

 She had an idea and cast around for an implement to put it into practice. A sharp-ended baulk of wood came floating by and she waited until it passed as dose to her as close to her as it was going to get before hauling it in. It was too heavy for her and jerked her clear of the grain car she was hiding behind. At the very last moment she changed hands on it and used the Fist to haul in her weapon while clinging to the battered railway car with her other hand. Then she bided her time fearfully. It would be one last desperate gamble.

“I knew a woman would never make it.” A loud mouth pinpointed the bounty hunters for her just before they came around the corner of Henty’s sheltering grain truck. She pushed off with the Fist and her feet and stove the raggedly pointed end of the baulk of timber into their inflatable so hard that it came out the other end of the dinghy, which immediately gave up the ghost with a terrifying Whoosh! And sank. Henty didn’t hang around to see if they could swim: she was already striking out for the river bank at her best stroke. Several of the bounty hunters could not only swim, they had managed to hold onto their firearms. They swam as far as the grain car Henty had just deserted, climbed aboard, settled themselves comfortably — and paused to take bets on who would bag the easy target first.

“It’s like shooting ducks when I was a boy,” one said.

“All together now,” another said. “Then we won’t have any arguments about who got her.”

“But first, let’s reduce the number who’ll share,” another said. “She’s going nowhere with this current.” And with that, he turned his rifle on the bounty hunters still struggling in the water and zapped several before the others joined in. Then they turned their attention back to Henty.

“All together now,” said the one who was trying to promote concerted action.

And with this fine sentiment on his lips, he zapped the other three men on the inverted grain truck in the head with his zipgun. He caught the rifle of the last one before it could fall into the river.

“It doesn’t need more than one hero,” he said with satisfaction as he clambered higher up his makeshift raft to find better elevation. “She’s less than fifty feet away.” He spread his feet and took careful aim. His finger squeezed the trigger in the approved gentle manner, caressing it almost lovingly. “Ten million dollars,” he whispered as he fired. “All for me.”

Just then Henty swung the Fist over arm and as it dug into the water, much stronger than her other hand, it dragged her to one side. Instead of thudding into her defenseless back, the bullet skipped across the water.

The bounty hunter cursed and fired again. This time, because he hadn’t paused to take proper aim, he struck the Fist.

Henty turned over in the water to face her end. Over the rifle she could see the coarse red face of the bounty hunter.

“Murderer,” she shouted at him but he merely tightened his aim and caressed the trigger.

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• MORE ABOUT THE AUTHORS AT: 

Andre Jute http://coolmainpress.com/andrejute.html  Andre’s latest book is DREAMS Book 1 of COLD WAR, HOT PASSIONS http://www.amazon.com/DREAMS-COLD-WAR-PASSIONS-ebook/dp/B00A3BSJM2  Dakota Franklin http://coolmainpress.com/Dakota%20Franklin.html  Dakota’s latest book is NASCAR FIRST http://www.amazon.com/NASCAR-FIRST-RUTHLESS-WIN-ebook/dp/B00A72A556  Andrew McCoy http://coolmainpress.com/andrewmccoy.html  Andrew’s latest book is STIEG LARSSON Man, Myth & Mistress http://www.amazon.com/STIEG-LARSSON-Myth-Mistress-ebook/dp/B004GXAZAM

Copyright © 2012 André Jute, Dakota Franklin, Andrew McCoy. The authors have asserted their moral right. Published by CoolMain Press 2012 www.coolmainpress.com. Editor: Lisa Penington. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or performed by any means without the written permission of the publisher.