LINES IN THE SAND

Part III

By Wesley Overhults

Earth-8

Goblin looked at the group of winged men and women as they readied their glowing swords and prepared to cut down the Exiles. He could see that Samuel Guthrie and Rahne Sinclair were among them and noted that they didn’t have the wings that the others did. There were too many of them in the air and with Wasp unable to fight at the moment, that just left him as the lone member of the Exiles with aerial capabilities. In short, Harry and his teammates were royally screwed, and he hadn’t even factored in the obscene amount of innocent bystanders in the form of the soldiers and military scientists. That meant that they were even more royally screwed than he first thought.

“I really hate to ask this but can you fight?” he inquired to his girlfriend.

Kate was still breathing heavily, the exertion of using her powers in such a radically abnormal way still taking its toll on her body. She took a few more deep breaths and forced her body to begin functioning normally. She was no good to her teammates if she was in the middle of a panic attack and she could tell they were definitely going to need her help. Whatever was wrong with her, she had to suck it up and play through the pain or else it was going to get a lot worse for her and the rest of the Exiles.

“I’m good,” she told Goblin, forcing herself to stand up and brace herself for combat. “I’ll live.”

“You and I are going to have to take out most of these people,” warned Goblin as he watched The Choir take off and speed towards them. “Molly, you and Ivan do what you can. All of you be ready for anything. We don’t know what else these people can do.”

“I believe we have more help than we think,” said Whiplash as a thunderous roar boomed from behind them.

The military had assessed the new arrivals as hostiles and was turning their attention to The Choir. The soldiers weren’t equipped to deal with The Order’s winged avengers though. The Choir tore through the military’s tanks like they were made out of paper, their biomechanical wings slicing through the vehicles’ armor plating in mere seconds. When the glowing blades of The Choir’s swords found their marks, the air was alive with the crackle of otherworldly energy and those unfortunate enough to be cut down were instantly vaporized. The technology in the swords they wielded was meant to cleave through the very fabric of reality, creating gaps big enough for The Choir to transport to different worlds. It was the same technology that The Order used to move their inquisitors through realities only it lacked the same finesse. True to form, The Choir also lacked the finesse and subtlety that the inquisitors possessed. As Samuel and Rahne watched The Choir fight, they could both see why The Order had decided to move in a different direction with their methods. The Choir was nothing but a pack of bloodthirsty animals, pure warriors who knew nothing but death and carnage.

“Try to draw their attention to us,” ordered Goblin, both he and Wasp taking to the skies and cutting down The Choir’s numbers with bolts of hellfire and bio-electricity. “It’s pretty clear that they’re here for us so keep them away from the civilians as much as you can.”

“You have the stink of something unholy on you,” said Warren as he sped towards Goblin and raised his sword above his head before bringing it down towards Goblin in a killing stroke.

Goblin sidestepped the attack and then blasted Warren with a bolt of hellfire, the demonic flames scorching the soul of The Choir’s leader. Harry launched another blast at him but Warren parried the bolt with the blade of his sword. It was then that Osborn could see something else about the weapon’s blade. There were sigils carved into it that glowed white-hot when the blade came in contact with his flames. Harry could only guess that they were holy markings meant to ward off anything demonic, which now included him.

“What I wouldn’t give for some pumpkin bombs and sparkle beams right now,” he muttered to himself.

“Whatever you have in your bag of tricks, it won’t save you,” warned Warren before he slashed at Goblin again, trying to decapitate him with one stroke. “You think I haven’t run up against your kind before, boy? I have slain scores of them and relished the opportunity to add more to my count.”

“In my reality, I always thought you were a jackass,” said Goblin, creating a sword out of his hellfire and using it to block Warren’s attack. “It’s Worthington, right? Warren?”

“I am nothing like the Warren Worthington you would have known,” said Warren, the hellfire dissipating after taking one stroke from his blessed sword. “Make him sing for me, my winged soldiers. Make him sing me a song of agony.”

Goblin didn’t have the same spider-sense that his best friend had but he knew enough to know when an ambush was coming. He turned behind him and dived low to avoid the member of The Choir that was trying to get the drop on him. Theresa Cassidy dived after him, her mane of red hair snaking behind her like a trail of fire. Goblin could see that other members of The Choir were rushing to meet him even as he continued his power-dive. He blasted at them with bolts of hellfire, weaving through their numbers effectively if a little clumsily. He had improved his aerial abilities over the years but flying still wasn’t his forte. He tried to look behind him to see if the Cassidy girl was still on his tail but he didn’t have to do that to know the answer to his question. The air came alive with a sonic scream that would have made Harry’s teammate Songbird jealous. The wail of The Choir’s beautiful banshee hit Goblin with the force of a tank and sent him tumbling through the air, spiraling towards a violent collision with the ground. Harry managed to pull up at the last second and straighten himself out but he didn’t have time to catch his breath. The Choir was on him in an instant.

“Remind me who was hyperventilating like two seconds ago,” he said as he watched Wasp deftly weave her way through The Choir members, peppering them with her stings to disorient them. Harry formed a ball of hellfire in his hand and then flung it at the confused Choir members, letting the ball explode in their midst and scatter them.

“That’s not going to slow them down for long,” assured Wasp as more Choir members circled them like vultures while they stood back-to-back. “We’re outnumbered and I don’t think we’ve seen everything these guys are capable of. Fighting isn’t an option at this point.”

“You’re thinking retreat then?” inquired Harry.

“That Tallus has one more jump left in it,” she reminded him.

“We can’t leave this world as long as they’re here,” decided Goblin. “If we leave then there’s nothing to stop them from doing to this world exactly what they did to the vampire one. John, I’m pretty sure you can hear me through this thing. I need you to jump us when I give the word but we’re not going back to the Axis. Jump us somewhere isolated where we can fight these people without innocent bystanders.”

“What did he say?” asked Wasp after a few moments of silence.

“He says he’ll do it but after that there’s no way for us to get back using this Tallus,” explained Goblin. “He says that he’s going to pull Will and Melissa off their mission so they can come get us and take us home.”

“The Tallus can’t jump these people with us,” said Wasp. “I thought you said you weren’t going to abandon this world.”

“I’m not,” promised Goblin. “I’m going to give these people a reason to follow us.”

The air came alive with electricity as Whiplash charged up his coils and flung one of them at a Choir member who dared to hover too close. The weapon wrapped around the man’s ankle and shocked him enough to let Whiplash reel him in. Another Choir member came at him from the other side but Whiplash snapped his other whip towards the woman, striking her across the side of the face and halting her charge while he continued to electrocute his first attacker.

Bruiser, however, preferred the more direct approach and knew exactly who her targets were going to be. Choir members swarmed towards her like a pack of frenzied locusts but she knocked them aside, intent on getting at her only two opponents who were still on the ground.

“You think whatever bullets you have in that gun are going to slow me down?” she asked as she saw Guthrie aim his weapon at her. “I’ve gotten into slap-fights with the Hulk that will hurt more than that thing will.”

“Guess you shouldn’t be afraid of me then,” said Samuel before he pulled the trigger and let one of his phase bullets fly.

Molly saw that the bullet was glowing and figured it wasn’t anything she wanted to take. She dodged the shot with surprising speed and put herself closer to Guthrie, grabbing his gun and crushing it in her hand without much effort. Before the inquisitor could produce a second weapon, Molly jabbed him in the throat and almost crushed his larynx with her super-strength. She turned to her right and saw Rahne Sinclair draw her weapon, guessing it was the same kind of weird firearm as the one Samuel carried. It didn’t matter to her. She wasn’t used to going easy on people but she at least tried to pull her punches now that she was an Exile. That little love-tap she gave Samuel would keep him out of the fight for good considering how frail normal people were. Molly knew that Rahne was different though. She wanted the girl to turn into her wolf form because that way it could be more of a fair fight.

“No, I shouldn’t be afraid of you,” stated Bruiser. “You look different than the last time I saw you, Rahne. I guess you found a new pack, huh?”

“I have been forgiven for my sins and for the unholy monster that dwells within me,” stated Rahne. “I do not fear you, heathen.”

“I’ll fix that real quick,” assured Bruiser but before she could attack Rahne, members of The Choir came to the aid of the new inquisitor.

The pack of winged warriors came at her from all sides and she tried to fight them off but they kept coming. No matter how many of them she swatted away, there were always more. It seemed as if the group’s sole desire was to bury her under their sheer mass of humanity. A sizzling sound cut through the air around her and she saw light escape the ring of Choir members. Whiplash slung his whips in furious strikes, saying things in his native tongue that Molly was pretty sure were curse words. It gave her the moment she needed to swat away the rest of the Choir members that were trying to pile on her.

“You need to look after yourself better,” warned Whiplash.

“You need to duck,” ordered Bruiser as she saw Warren coming straight for them.

Whiplash turned and moved to dodge the slash from Warren’s sword. He cracked one of his coils at Warren, trying to relieve the man of his sword but Warren slashed at the coil and the energies surrounding the two weapons exploded violently when they clashed. That didn’t deter Whiplash in the slightest. His whips sang with ferocity as he delivered strike after strike at Warren’s head. Realizing that he had to get in the air to avoid Whiplash, Warren shot into the sky and flew over Whiplash’s attacks. He tried to deliver a killing stroke to Whiplash but something tackled him while he was in the air.

“Everybody get close to me!” ordered Goblin even as he grappled with Warren.

“What in hell are you doing?” inquired Whiplash. “You are thinking of retreating?”

“Just do it!” snapped Harry even as he put Warren in a headlock and tried to not get eviscerated by the metallic wings that flailed wildly around him.

Whiplash turned and used the range of his weapons to cover their seeming retreat. Wasp came down out of the sky and blasted anyone unfriendly with sting bolts. The Choir soon realized that Goblin had their leader in his grasp and were quick to retaliate. They surged towards the Exiles in an effort to stop any further harm from coming to Warren. Goblin had a completely different idea though. He wanted The Choir to follow him to whatever desolate reality John could jump the Exiles to and he figured the only way they would do it was if he took their leader hostage.

“You have sealed your own fate,” said Warren as he tried to free himself from Goblin’s grip. “I will see your head upon a pike before this encounter is over.”

“Jump us!” commanded Goblin.

The only response to his order that Goblin got was the gems on the Tallus lighting up, glowing with the brilliance that only came with teleportation. The air around the Exiles and their captive reeked of brimstone as they winked out of existence and left The Choir completely lost without their leader to guide them.

“What are we supposed to do now?” asked a Choir member as the winged avengers congregated in one spot to figure out how to proceed.

“Obviously we need ta find them,” spoke up Theresa Cassidy, taking lead with their leader away. “This will not stand.”

“We’ll have to get Minister Stein here,” rasped Samuel, his larynx still injured from Bruiser’s strike. “Rahne, call him in.”

“At once, Samuel,” replied Rahne. “Inquisitor Rahne Sinclair calling in to request the immediate presence of Minister Stein. A situation has occurred that needs his expertise.”

“Affirmative,” replied the voice on the other line. “Minister Stein will be arriving shortly.”

The members of The Order watched as a teleportation portal opened up and Machine Man stepped through, brushing some of his wire-like hair out of his face. Stein shuffled over to the group, his sensors surveying and cataloging the scene.

“Which one of you is the sack of meat that called for me?” he asked.

“I did, Minister,” spoke up Rahne. “I called you on Inquisitor Samuel’s orders because the leader of The Choir has been abducted by these heathens called the Exiles.”

“Exiles?” questioned Machine Man. “Was my Molly with them?”

“She was, sir,” answered Rahne. “The Choir members have the means to traverse realities but we don’t know where to go.”

“Of course, you need me,” said Machine Man, clicking some buttons on his forearm and paying no attention to the other members of The Order. “You’re lucky I don’t flay all of you alive for pulling me away from my work. I was watching the finals of an intergalactic lacrosse tournament until you moronic meatbags called me.”

“Minister, please tell us ye can find Brother Warren,” said Theresa.

“Of course I can find him,” assured Machine Man. “I bet you didn’t know that every single one of you Choir members has a tracking device implanted in your wings. Now I must admit that the technology isn’t as advanced as something I would come up with and it hasn’t been active in a long time, but I assume I can still ping it and then track the signal to its source reality.”

“And ye got a hit?” asked Theresa as a light flashed on Machine Man’s forearm console.

“Indeed,” said Machine Man as he opened a portal that would take The Choir to their captive leader. “There is one condition for my awesomeness though. I’m coming with you. Resistance to this condition is futile.”

“Fine, just get us to Warren,” said Theresa before leading the way through the portal.

“If I may be bold to inquire, why are you coming with us?” asked Rahne.

“Those Exiles have something I want,” said Machine Man darkly. “Better not get in my way, bad wolf, or I’ll make what Brother Crow did to you look like sunshine and rainbows by comparison.”

“I don’t know what you speak of,” said Rahne.

“Ask your boyfriend then,” suggested Machine Man before shoving Rahne through the portal and then giving Samuel a knowing look.

“Do not tempt me, Minister,” warned Samuel.

“Epic fail on the attempt to threaten me,” shot back Machine Man before doing the same to Samuel what he did to Rahne and then going through the portal himself.

Earth-186

Melissa Gold didn’t enjoy the image she was about to portray but if that was what it took to get the job done and possibly save Tony Stark’s life then so be it. She made sure to adjust the t-shirt she was wearing enough so that it showed the right amount of cleavage. Now all she had to do was play the part and hope she could slip through Stark’s security to get inside his room before the real assassin did the job.

“I thought it was him when I saw him at the pool today,” she said as she approached the door. “You guys work for Tony Stark, right?”

“Ma’am, you’re going to have to leave,” said one of the security guards. “Mr. Stark doesn’t sign autographs at this time of the night. Come back in the morning and try again.”

“Oh I didn’t want an autograph,” said Songbird. “See I’m from . . . well I don’t think I need to spell it out. He and I have an open appointment whenever he’s in town.”

“You’ll have to wait here while we clear it with him,” said the security guard.

“Oh sure, no problem,” agreed Songbird as the man went back into the hotel room. She tried to look through the open doorway to see what was going on without being too obvious but couldn’t see anything.

“You’re not my regular,” said Stark as he came over to the door and saw Melissa. “Rumi and I aren’t really down for a threesome tonight anyway. It’s a shame though because you do look damn good.”

“Maybe I could convince you otherwise?” suggested Songbird, playing up her part with a sultry look in her eye and a wicked grin playing across her lips. “Just think of it as your last night as a free man, Mr. Stark.”

“I’ll take a rain check,” decided Stark before closing the door. “Entertain my friends though and tell your boss to put it on my tab. Enjoy the night, guys.”

Melissa turned to the two security guards and could tell they were extremely pleased with their employer’s generosity. She curled her finger enticingly, drawing them towards her like moths to a flame. She waited until they were both moving in for a kiss and then opened her mouth. The scream that erupted from her throat was too high of a frequency for any human ear to hear but it was definitely enough to put the two guards in pain. She watched their eyes roll into the backs of their heads before they slumped to the floor.

“I really tried to be polite about this,” she muttered to herself before hitting the door with a sonic scream that blasted it off its hinges.

The sight that awaited her was something she expected to see. She had deduced that the assassin wasn’t just some hired gun but was someone a little closer to Stark and far more personal. Rumiko Fujikawa was Daddy’s little girl, something that Songbird could relate to. It didn’t surprise Melissa in the least that Rumiko was about to kill her fiancé with the ice pick she had pressed up against his throat.

“Guess I’ll go for that threesome,” said Stark, his voice tinged with the nervousness of the uncomfortable situation he found himself in.

“I don’t know who you are or how you figured it out but you’re too late,” warned Rumiko as Songbird stepped into the room. “Take another step and he’s going to bleed all over this very expensive rug.”

“You’re doing this for your father,” stated Songbird. “I understand that, Rumiko, but your father doesn’t care about you. All he cares about is the money he’ll make off of killing his competition. That’s what your whole relationship with Stark is built on, isn’t it? You just want to make Daddy proud.”

“I want to do whatever is best for my family,” corrected Rumiko.

“You’re not going to bring honor to your family with this,” said Songbird. “Just let him go and I’ll make sure the police go easy on you. Otherwise, things are going to get loud and messy.”

Rumiko tightened her grip on the ice pick and pulled Stark closer to her, making sure his body was firmly between her and Songbird. Melissa wasn’t paying attention to that though. She was more concerned with what she saw seeping into the room from beneath the window. She could hear the hiss of the stream of sand as it poured from the windowsill and onto the carpet behind Rumiko and Stark. Before she even knew what hit her, something clamped around the ice pick in Rumiko’s hand and wrenched it from her grasp. She turned and saw Sandman looming over her, a giant golem made out of sandstone. One of his huge hands separated her from Stark, sending her stumbling in Melissa’s direction. Songbird hit Rumiko with the same high-pitched scream she had used earlier on the security guards. It knocked her unconscious and left the two Exiles with a frightened Tony Stark.

“Thought you might be in trouble,” said Sandman gruffly. “There was a shooter but I took care of him. I guess he wasn’t the only person after Stark. Nice work, Mel.”

“Trust me, if there’s one thing I know it’s her type,” said Songbird. “Either call the cops or have your private security take care of this, Stark. We’re not going to be here by the time it’s finished.”

“Definitely not,” assured Sandman after putting the Tallus to his ear and listening to what was going on. “We need to go pick up the others. They’re in trouble.”

“I’ll get my gear,” said Songbird before they both went back to their room. “Did John say what kind of trouble?”

“It’s those people we tangled with before,” explained Sandman as he stood outside the door while Songbird changed. “The others are in over their heads and we need to hurry up.”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” shot back Songbird, zipping up her costume after putting on her sonic carapace. “Unless you’d rather I show up to a fight in my underwear.”

“One way to distract the enemy,” joked Sandman as he felt his body dissolve into sand without his command. “We’re leaving any second. You better be ready.”

Both Sandman and Songbird’s bodies dissolved into sand and were blown away to a different reality on the wind that kicked up from their teleportation. With the mission a success, it was time for them to regroup with the rest of the Exiles and take on The Order once again. However, it appeared that they weren’t going to their teammates’ aid but rather to The Axis.

“I know the others are in trouble but we’ve got to settle something now,” stated John as the two Exiles appeared in the conference room.

“What the hell is this about, John?” questioned Sandman. “You said the others were in danger and you want us to wait around here some more?”

“Turn in your Tallus, Will,” ordered John, his voice low and threatening. “That thing is coming off of you one way or the other and I’m not going to ask again.”

“Make me,” dared Sandman defiantly. “You want this piece of shit jewelry back then come get it, little man.”

“Told you I wasn’t going to ask again,” warned John.

The Tallus that had been on Sandman’s wrist suddenly disappeared and instead Songbird found herself wearing it, the device taking the form of the charm bracelet that Nico had worn when she was its original keeper. Sandman looked at Songbird and she could see the rage flare in his eyes. She tried to get the bracelet off of her wrist but she knew there was no way it would budge. She was the keeper of the Tallus now but she didn’t understand why.

“We’re wasting time with this crap,” stated Sandman. “I don’t give a damn who wears the thing, let’s just go.”

“You’re lucky that the others need you because if they didn’t then I’d keep you here for observation,” said John. “You’re not well, Will. I saw what you did to that hitman.”

“I didn’t do anything to him that he didn’t have coming,” said Sandman. “You told us to stop the assassin so that’s what I did.”

“What did you do to him?” questioned Songbird. “Don’t you even dare lie to me either.”

Sandman glared at her and tried to sort out the conflicting emotions that were raging inside of him. This wasn’t him, at least not the version of him that he had been since he turned his back of his life of crime. What was happening to him? He thought that he could control it or hide it but now it was coming out for everyone to see. Something had changed in him and it wasn’t just his attitude.

“I killed him,” he admitted to her. “When I touched him with my sand . . . he started getting older. He just started aging right there in front of me and I didn’t stop myself. I’m sorry, Mel. That’s . . . that’s not me. I swear it’s not. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I do,” said John. “Go help the others but when you get back, we’re going to have to do something about this. You can’t be allowed to roam around with the others, Will. You’re not an Exile anymore.”

“Then what the hell am I?” asked Sandman, fear creeping into his voice as he stared at his hands and tried to understand what was going on.

“You’re a Timebroker now,” answered John and his words were like a death sentence, the weight of them bearing down on William Baker and crushing him.

Next Issue: It’s the Exiles against The Choir and blood will be spilt by both sides.