Book 2: Chapter 63: Revelation (1/2)
The parking lot was a biblical scene, Goliath towering over David. Radiance from on high illuminated the scene, an APD chopper with a large spotlight pointed at the center of the parking lot. It painted a misleading picture. Gregoir, in appearance alone, out massed Cannibal four or five times. The blonde officer was an easy six and a half feet tall, with arms like watermelons, a barrel chest, and legs like oak trees. His clothes hung in loose tatters, as if a pack of lions had used him as a scratching post, and his skin was covered in dry blood. He stood tall and straight-backed, and his fierce horseshoe mustache somehow glittered in the light.
Cannibal stood across from him. The villain was tall, but extremely emaciated, and adopted a hunched posture even when standing still. His arms were long, hanging so low as to brush his ankles, and his leg were slightly bent. His feet were bare, and Dan only now noticed toenails that were every bit as hooked as the villain's fingers. The man's shirt was completely gone, courtesy of Dan and friction. The man's pants were hanging by a belt and a prayer, and Dan hoped they'd make it through the rest of the fight. Cannibal's chest was painted crimson red and caked in filth. Between Gregoir's blood, and the many times he'd been cast into the dirt, the man looked like a starving, homeless vagrant. He was also by far the more dangerous of the two.
It was a tense moment, broken up by the screaming commands of the APD chopper. Orders to stand down, to stand back, to lie down and surrender; rapid-fire orders were bellowed by loudspeaker and both combatants ignored them all. Gregoir by necessity, and Cannibal by choice. They had eyes only for each other, Gregoir's face hard and stern, and Cannibal's just shy of euphoric. The villain twitched first, his patience snapping like a frayed rubber band, and he leapt forward with a snarl.
The helicopter answered with the booming roar of gunfire, a stream of heavy rounds emerged from the nose of the gunship, intercepting Cannibal halfway to Gregoir. Tracers whizzed off the villain's thick skin and scattered in every direction. Cannibal didn't even slow down, crashing into Gregoir with all the force of a speeding train and taking the larger man off his feet. They rolled across the ground, a blur of limbs and blood, before Gregoir's massive foot planted itself on the villains chest and heaved him skyward.
Talons bit deep and flesh tore; Cannibal was launched into the air trailing skin and blood. The gunship tracked his path, bullets impacting with nearly no effect, but the force driving the villain away from Gregoir. Cannibal landed in a crouch, one hand interposed between himself and the chopper, and the other tearing out a chunk of concrete.
The stream of bullets paused as the pilot realized what was coming. It spun sideways, exposing its wide profile, and the door slid open. Another officer, dressed in the armor of a SPEAR Team member, leaned out of the gunship and cast his arm forward, right as Cannibal's hand blurred. The chunk of concrete snapped through the air and broke against a crackling golden shield, suspended across the chopper. The shield rippled upon impact, shrank into a similar sized ball, then launched itself back at Cannibal. The villain cackled, shattering the counter attack with a contemptuous backhand.
Gregoir closed the distance while his enemy was distracted, and caught Cannibal in a vicious clothesline. His meaty bicep carried the villain three full strides before slamming him down. The concrete shattered beneath the pair as Cannibal was driven through the foundations. Gregoir stomped his foe into the ground, pushing him deeper, then dashed backwards.
The gunship hovered above, angled down, and unleashed a storm of angry red fire into the pit. Dan watched the concrete melt, shattering into powder as trapped liquid violently evaporated. A rope dropped out of the helicopter, pooling on the ground, and a pair of SPEAR members slid down it to the concrete below. One of them held his hand out, projecting the same golden shield that had first protected the chopper. It followed the pair down, rippling from the intense heat billowing out of aircraft's front end.
As soon as the pair touched down the fire ceased, and the shield quickly capped the superheated hole in the parking lot. The rope line leading to the chopper was retracted, its length zipping upwards, but a hand tore free of the concrete and latched onto its length. Cannibal ripped himself out of the ground, a full twenty feet from where he'd been pounded into it, one hand wrapped around the thick rope while the other dug into the ground. The officers shouted in alarm, one managing to unload his rifle in Cannibal's face, but the villain disregarded it utterly. He yanked hard on the line, and chopper spun from the force. The rope snapped before the gunship could be brought down, but it spun low across the parking lot, while the pilot fought to regain control.
Cannibal casually swatted at the closest officer. The golden shield interposed itself between the two, and his claws raked against it. Cannibal twisted, planting a foot against the vertical pane, and launched himself across the parking lot towards the gunship. The shield shattered like glass, his foot impacting the officer's torso with the strength of a cannonball, and Cannibal blitzed across the parking lot to leap up at the floundering aircraft. The pilot saw him coming, and managed to angle the tail rotor to intercept him. The blades caught Cannibal in the chest and exploded, knocking him downward at the cost of the chopper's control. It spun, wildly out of control, as the pilot fought to crash it somewhere safe.
There were lights coming from the distant highway, flashing colors that danced against the horizon like red and blue fireflies. Dozens of police cars tore down the feeder road, towards the escalating fight. More lights lay beyond them, the bright white and yellow headlights of witnesses. Civilians were parked up on the overpass, the brave and the stupid watching the battle from what they assumed was a safe distance. In any other circumstance, spare officers would pull aside and drive them away.
There were no spare officers.
Gregoir bellowed in rage as he caught up to the villain. He seized Cannibal by the waist, his massive hand almost fully enveloping the emaciated villain, and slammed him repeatedly against the ground. There was a flash of dirty skin and sharp talons, and Gregoir's left arm came free at the shoulder. Cannibal dropped to the ground, twisting like a cat, and lunged forward.
Gregoir did not even break stride. He seized his own arm before it could touch the ground, and swung it like a long iron. The limb was far meatier than any golf club, and the impact swatted Cannibal across the parking lot. The villain's flailing descent ended against a massive pine tree, and the force of his flight uprooted the tall evergreen. Gregoir shifted his grip on his amputated arm, shoved it back into place, and strode forward grimly. He let go between steps, and his left arm flexed as it reattached itself.
Police cars began to pour across the long driveway leading to the motel. Cannibal took note, standing upright and seizing the downed pine. He lifted it with one hand, fingers biting deep into its trunk, and hurled it like a javelin at the lead vehicle, nearly a hundred yards away. The cruiser peeled out of the way, but the tree took its cohort through the windshield. The driver died instantly, and the tree continued forward, tumbling wildly across the path, before landing sideways and blocking a huge chunk of the entrance.
Cannibal turned to meet Gregoir, a smile on his face. He laughed giddily as he called out, ”This might take a while!”
The villain's back was to an empty field, a massive plot that would eventually go under construction. No cops other than Gregoir were in range of the man, and Gregoir was still striding across the parking lot. The highway was in the other direction, as were all the people.
Dan saw his chance, and he took it.