Organization: Penn State University Date: Thu, 28 Apr 1994 18:42:40 EDT From: "Lawrence E. Nagy" Message-Id: <94118.184240LEN101@psuvm.psu.edu> Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: Highleaper 1 HIGHLEAPER part1 First Sam felt the tingling of a leap, his world turned into the usual blue light then something went wrong, terribly wrong. Pain shot through his body. It felt like an electrical shock strong enough to lift him off the ground. Blackness around him lit up with flashes of a blue-white lightning and sparks fell from above. The pain subsided for an instant then returned with a vengeance, it felt like he had been impaled on a bolt of lightning. It was too much to bear, Sam screamed in agony and the ground came up to meet his knees. He landed hard and heard what ever it was he had been holding clang to the ground. When the energy subsided, Sam continued his fall but was able to catch himself at the last minute, barely avoiding eating pavement. He knelt there for a few moments trying to catch his breath, finally he opened his eyes, hoping that where ever he was there was some light. The place was dark but Sam could see, he leaned back on his heals and looked up. A few dim lights hung high overhead, there were also many that still sparked from an apparent overload. It must have been caused by what ever he had just endured. Sam could make out a few windows showing a night sky high overhead. 'What is this?' he thought 'Where am I?.' He smelled something odd yet very familiar. "Blood" he whispered to himself "I smell blood." Sam immediately started looking around. Laying in the shadows a couple of yards away was the outline of a body. Though every muscle in his body ached, Sam forced himself to his feet and headed to whom ever this was. This person obviously needed help. As his angle of sight changed, Sam stopped dead in his tracks. He found why he smelled blood, the body was headless and lay in a large pool of blood. "Oh, boy." he whispered to himself. It was the corpse of a large man, well over six feet. He was well muscled and in very good shape. The body had several cuts on its arms and torso. Beside missing it's head, it had a another very fatal stab wound in the center of the chest just below breast bone. When Sam realized blood was still oozing from the body he felt a surge of panic and took a few steps away. Who ever did this could still be around. Something clanged under foot. He had just stepped on a large two-handed straight sword. One like he remembered seeing them carry in movies about King Arthur and Camelot. "What is this?" he said "What the hell is going on here?" Sam then remembered dropping something when he leaped in. He limped back over to where he was originally and looked around. He found a white handled sword. It was a Japanese katana, he remembered learning to use one in some of his martial arts classes. This one looked like an antique, he was so intrigue by it, he didn't realize, at first, that the blade was covered with blood. Seeing the blood he almost threw the sword down, but didn't. "Mac!" a voice echoed through the warehouse. Sam turned toward the voice, instinctively swinging the sword to a classic on-guard position. A figure silhouetted in the shadows limped toward him. As the person approached Sam could make out the form of young man holding a sword. He held the sword low, almost dragging it, he looked like it took all of his effort to maintain his grip. "Mac," the young man said again "Are you all right?" 'My name must be Mac' Sam thought relaxing his stance then stumbled his reply "Yea, I guess I'm okay." This person seemed about Sam's height, had short blond hair and a boyish face. He must have only been in his late teens or early twenties. Sam also realized that he had several cuts and very nasty looking blood stained gash across the front of the black sweater he was wearing. "Are YOU okay?" Sam asked sincerely. "I'm fine." he replied "But old Lance here would have had my head if it weren't for you. That's another one I owe you." "I didn't know you were keeping track." Sam said as if he knew what was going on. It seemed as if this wasn't the first time he had saved the boy's neck. The boy leaned down and picked up a nearby rag to wipe the small amout of blood off of his own sword. Sam, running on instinct, did the same. They headed out of the warehouse to a deserted pier. There were two vehicles parked near the door. An old single seat Harley-Davidson and a early 80's black Trans-Am. Sam's companion looked longingly at the bike. "What I ride." he said as they passed it. "It's too bad someone like Lance would own such a fine piece of machinery." He then looked toward the edge of the pier "How long do you suppose my wheels will last in that water?" Sam frowned at the boy's trivial worries. He had apparently just killed this Lance person, beheading him, and this kid was worrying about motorcycles. "I don't think very long." "I'll come back later and pull it out, it'll give me something to do." They headed toward the Trans-Am and Sam went straight for the passanger side. "You want me to drive?" the boy said surprised. "Lance must have wore you out pretty good." As Sam opened the passenger side door he heard the boy clear his throat. "The keys" he said "I am going to need the keys." "Of course." Sam said weakly and started feeling his pockests till he found a set to hand over. Sam fell into the passenger seat then looked at his clothes by the car's dome light. He was wearing blue jeans and a cut and blood stained white t-shirt. "Hey Mac, what's up?" his companion said as he slid into the seat next to him "Your acting really weird." "I just killed a man." Sam said trying to find an excuse for his disorientation. The kid looked at him strangely "You should be used to it by now. Are you sure your okay, something really weird is going on." "What are you talking about?" Sam asked not having act like he didn't know what he was talking about. "I don't feel you." he said very seriously. "What?" "The quickening. I don't feel it in you." The boy said "It's as if you weren't one of us anymore." "Your tired," Sam said "lets go". The boy put the car into gear and slowly drove down the pier with lights off. Neither said another word, they just sat back and let the Trans-Am carry them into the night. to be continued..................