Read Online Gamers' Quest by George Ivanoff - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: George Ivanoff
Ads: Link
elbowing the princeling in the back of the head as he strode past. ‘Times to enter Paradise.’
Boom!
The noise reverberated through the whiteness. Tark and Zyra froze.
Boom!
The door that Tark and Zyra had entered through shook violently.
‘Ya don'ts suppose?’ asked Zyra.
‘Nah!’ said Tark.
‘What?’ asked the princeling.
Boom!
A large dent appeared in the door.
‘Quick,’ ordered Zyra. ‘Hides the stash.’
Tark hastily concealed the shopping cart behind another door.
Boom!
The metal door buckled and twisted, then flew off its hinges. Vera stood framed in the doorway, the sewage tunnel visible behind her.
‘Run!’ hissed Zyra, and the three of them dashed for cover behind the doors.
Vera stepped into the whiteness, trailing sludge and spitting a rat tail from her mouth. She was covered in wounds and dripping blood, her pearls gone, her make-up smeared, her clothes stained and tattered. Two of the monks’ crossbow bolts still protruded from her broad back.
‘Come out, come out, wherever you are,’ she shrieked, an odd quaver to her voice.
‘Doesn't nuthin’ stops that woman?’ said Tark.
‘It ain't no ordinary woman,’ replied Zyra.
‘Who is she?’ asked the princeling, eyes boggling. ‘What is she?’
Tark and Zyra ignored him.
‘Wots are we gonna do?’ asked Tark.
‘We needs the sword o’ light,’ said Zyra, turning on the princeling. ‘How do we recharge it?’
‘I'm not about to tell you that,’ said the princeling, crossing his arms. ‘I'll never get it back.’
‘If ya don't tells us, we is all done for,’ hissed Tark.
The princeling turned his back on them.
‘Why, ya little –’ Zyra raised her gloved fist.
‘The glove!’ said Tark, excitedly. ‘That might slow her down.’
‘A whole temple full of armed monks couldn't stop her. Do ya thinks this glove's gonna do much?’
‘It's all we's got.’
‘Well, I thinks we just hides,’ said Zyra.
‘Peek-a-boo!’ screamed Vera, looking around the side of the door at them.
They nearly jumped out of their skins, but regained their senses and ran. Vera lumbered around the door.
‘I've got plenty of time,’ shouted Vera, toying with them. ‘I might even destroy the access console!’
‘Wot's that?’ asked Tark.
‘The pedestal that gives you entry to Designers Paradise,’ said the princeling. ‘Don't you know anything?’
‘Well, I guess we has gotta fight,’ said Zyra, stepping out in plain view.
Tark nodded and followed her.
‘Speak for yourselves,’ said the princeling, crouching lower.
‘All rights,’ shouted Zyra. ‘Ya wanna fight? Well heres we are.’
Vera stalked towards them.
Zyra took aim with the glove and fired three bolts of energy in quick succession. They hit Vera square in the face. The first stopped her in her tracks, the second made her stagger back, and the third knocked her off her feet.
Zyra and Tark looked at the fallen dragon's wife, then at each other.
‘Didn't expect that to work,’ said Zyra with surprise.
Princeling Galbrath joined them as they approached Vera. The flesh on her face was charred and hanging in tatters, revealing a face-shaped metal casing.
‘Wot in Designer's Paradise are ya?’ whispered Tark.
‘Vera 919,’ answered Vera, without moving her metal lips. The voice was distorted, with an electronic twang. ‘Cyborg. Wife model. Inbuilt retrieval prerogative. Special order for Edgar. Constructed by Fat Man Inc.’
‘The Fat Man has got a finger in every pie,’ said Princeling Galbrath knowingly.
‘Complete retrieval,’ said Vera.
Her hand shot up and grabbed Zyra's arm. She sat bolt upright, then stood shakily as Zyra attempted to break free.
Tark jumped back and drew the sword o’ light.
‘Tells me how to recharge it,’ he yelled at the princeling. ‘Or we is all dead.’
Vera lifted Zyra off her feet, tore the glove from her hand and enveloped her in a slow, crushing bear hug. Zyra kicked and punched and thrashed
Boom!
The noise reverberated through the whiteness. Tark and Zyra froze.
Boom!
The door that Tark and Zyra had entered through shook violently.
‘Ya don'ts suppose?’ asked Zyra.
‘Nah!’ said Tark.
‘What?’ asked the princeling.
Boom!
A large dent appeared in the door.
‘Quick,’ ordered Zyra. ‘Hides the stash.’
Tark hastily concealed the shopping cart behind another door.
Boom!
The metal door buckled and twisted, then flew off its hinges. Vera stood framed in the doorway, the sewage tunnel visible behind her.
‘Run!’ hissed Zyra, and the three of them dashed for cover behind the doors.
Vera stepped into the whiteness, trailing sludge and spitting a rat tail from her mouth. She was covered in wounds and dripping blood, her pearls gone, her make-up smeared, her clothes stained and tattered. Two of the monks’ crossbow bolts still protruded from her broad back.
‘Come out, come out, wherever you are,’ she shrieked, an odd quaver to her voice.
‘Doesn't nuthin’ stops that woman?’ said Tark.
‘It ain't no ordinary woman,’ replied Zyra.
‘Who is she?’ asked the princeling, eyes boggling. ‘What is she?’
Tark and Zyra ignored him.
‘Wots are we gonna do?’ asked Tark.
‘We needs the sword o’ light,’ said Zyra, turning on the princeling. ‘How do we recharge it?’
‘I'm not about to tell you that,’ said the princeling, crossing his arms. ‘I'll never get it back.’
‘If ya don't tells us, we is all done for,’ hissed Tark.
The princeling turned his back on them.
‘Why, ya little –’ Zyra raised her gloved fist.
‘The glove!’ said Tark, excitedly. ‘That might slow her down.’
‘A whole temple full of armed monks couldn't stop her. Do ya thinks this glove's gonna do much?’
‘It's all we's got.’
‘Well, I thinks we just hides,’ said Zyra.
‘Peek-a-boo!’ screamed Vera, looking around the side of the door at them.
They nearly jumped out of their skins, but regained their senses and ran. Vera lumbered around the door.
‘I've got plenty of time,’ shouted Vera, toying with them. ‘I might even destroy the access console!’
‘Wot's that?’ asked Tark.
‘The pedestal that gives you entry to Designers Paradise,’ said the princeling. ‘Don't you know anything?’
‘Well, I guess we has gotta fight,’ said Zyra, stepping out in plain view.
Tark nodded and followed her.
‘Speak for yourselves,’ said the princeling, crouching lower.
‘All rights,’ shouted Zyra. ‘Ya wanna fight? Well heres we are.’
Vera stalked towards them.
Zyra took aim with the glove and fired three bolts of energy in quick succession. They hit Vera square in the face. The first stopped her in her tracks, the second made her stagger back, and the third knocked her off her feet.
Zyra and Tark looked at the fallen dragon's wife, then at each other.
‘Didn't expect that to work,’ said Zyra with surprise.
Princeling Galbrath joined them as they approached Vera. The flesh on her face was charred and hanging in tatters, revealing a face-shaped metal casing.
‘Wot in Designer's Paradise are ya?’ whispered Tark.
‘Vera 919,’ answered Vera, without moving her metal lips. The voice was distorted, with an electronic twang. ‘Cyborg. Wife model. Inbuilt retrieval prerogative. Special order for Edgar. Constructed by Fat Man Inc.’
‘The Fat Man has got a finger in every pie,’ said Princeling Galbrath knowingly.
‘Complete retrieval,’ said Vera.
Her hand shot up and grabbed Zyra's arm. She sat bolt upright, then stood shakily as Zyra attempted to break free.
Tark jumped back and drew the sword o’ light.
‘Tells me how to recharge it,’ he yelled at the princeling. ‘Or we is all dead.’
Vera lifted Zyra off her feet, tore the glove from her hand and enveloped her in a slow, crushing bear hug. Zyra kicked and punched and thrashed
Similar Books
