God's Forsaken

Chapter Six

"I can afford it," declared Andal. He yanked a wanted poster from his pocket. "You just killed the harbor master of all of Barrol. The islands are getting tired of your work. They are offering over ten thousand gold pieces for your corpse. More than enough for everyone here for years."

"Only ten thousand?" The assassin started to study the sole of his shoe. The weathered rubber would need to be replaced soon. "I must be slacking off." Still, being captured again sounded better than instant death. "Okay then. Just put the cuffs on and we can..." He yanked his arms away from a teasing knife.

"Didn't you hear me?" asked Andal humorously. "Your corpse is worth ten thousand."

On cue, the mob lunged at the assassin. Alarmed assaulters huffed as the assassin plopped a wing forward. He stomped on one dwarf's head while Michel shot his revolver at a knife. Sparks flew as the blade recoiled back. His flaring wings knocked several people away. His propelled knee crashed into a merman and sent him flying into the mob.

Before Michel knew it, the crowd gave way to open land. Shrieking bullets rained down upon him. In methodical fashion Michel returned fire. Three rapid headshots and blood splattering their allies convinced the gunners to fall back. They soon returned, but Michel's continuous skilled shots slowed them down.

All the while Andal held his ground, his eyes scanning the sand in front of the angel. A snap of his beak summoned mini sandstorms. Slivers of flesh were stripped from Michel's hands and face. Embedded sand grains wormed their way into exposed skin. The assassin's only advantage was his thick clothing.

As Michel reached the exit a pair of assaulters stepped into his path. One blasted a ray of light from his hands forward while the other snapped a finger bathed the air with fire. Crackling flames force Michel to lurch upward. His wings hit the net while he downed the two magicians by shooting them in the knees. Stiffened feathers drew Michel's attention for all of two seconds. Once he hit the ground, bullets nipping at his heels, Michel darted out of the alley, yet the mob refused to be beaten so easily. Their combined roar drowned out any other sound. Michel quickly checked his firearm's action to see one bullet left. Damn it. If he stayed any longer he would die. It was time to fall back upon his wings.

Michel pushed his wings open and they stiffened into wood. "What?" cried the stunned angel. He tried moving them, but they stayed frozen. The divine. Damn him. That net had a spell placed on it. Praises and curses for Andal came to mind, but a twirling knife skimming his cheek reminded him of the current danger.

"Where are the police when you need them?" shouted Michel. Helpful knives answered him, so he ran straight for the port. He gave any tourists he passed a quick explanation of his problem. "Killers incoming!" One glance at the mob convinced the bystanders to ditch their immediate plans. Many of them rushed into the buildings or into sides streets to avoid the barking guns.

Michel needed to lose the mob, so he ran into a food stall with a cloth roof. Waiting until the last minute, the assassin swung his stiffened wings and knocked the pole over. The cloth collapsed on the front row of the mob.

Sudden blindness frightened the mob into assaulting whatever happened to be closest. Cuts appeared on the wrong people and the mob dissolved into an internal fight. Curses and screams grew with the tearing of cloth. Michel gave them a mean grin before rushing for the ship.

Turning a corner, Michel ran his stomach straight into an outstretched arm. The wind bellowed out of his mouth. Curses armed his tongue for an attack, but stopped upon seeing an annoyed Sainh.

"Michel, where have you been?" demanded the reptile. She flicked her tongue at the assassin. "Ozresbet said that you ditched him at the bank." Words formed in Michel's mind but got disconnected from his tongue when a sand dune slammed into his back. Sidestepping the stumbled angel, Sainh glared at Andal marching their way. His sharp gaze drilled into Michel's back.