My beleaguered sprint across the country side ended in the crags as I reached the cusp of a cliff. It was perhaps climbable as the cliff face was nearly as jagged and toothy as the ground below, but my pursuer was seconds away and would round the nearest boulder momentarily.

  Luckily my trap would not be far behind—that other me.

  As they Psychic came into view, he showed little interest in talking between the panting of breaths, sweat dripping down his lips. Metal that I could not see within the folds of his clothes flung from their hidden places and wrapped around the Psychic’s arm in a razor spined gauntlet.

  He came at me, and, of course, I let him; I’d survived worse than the fall that day already.

  He skewed me through the gut, a dark glee in those demented eyes, but that visage quickly fell to consternation as I bled my hands grabbing his gauntlet and held him taught halfway through me. I pulled back, meaning to take him with me but he caught me by surprise, properly braced and too heavy with my diminutive mass.

  It hardly mattered. Unbeknownst to either of us, the either me had arrived and crashed into the Psychic. All three of us toppling to the ravine below.

  -An Unconventional Tactician

  ###

  Like a small wave being parted by the largest of ocean liners, Joshua backed into the train car before the bulk of the Dark Element Knight. “Uh Kael, it looks like roid-rage is here, and he would like a word with you," Joshua said, falling butt first into a booth.

  Kael snapped to and entered the aisle. “But don’t those make your--” Kael ducked as a small shiv of blood whizzed overhead.

  Gianna shrank back in her seat and tucked her legs underneath in a ball. Bartholomew pulled Emilie below their table and covered her with his body.

  Zagan’s eyes had already lolled and rested on Bartholomew’s position. “Looks like I found the adult.”

  “And here’s the kid that’s going to kill you,” Kael said, straightening himself and adopting a fighter’s stance.

  Joshua tentatively popped his head just above the seat. It was the worst kind of situation for him to help, close quarters with practically no apparent shenanigans, but he may need to jump in at an opportune moment.

  Kael took a step forward and balked as Zagan was already crashing forward. Kael’s instincts guided his body before his mind could catch up-- he brought his right-hand inside his windbreaker pocket up, using it as fuel for an explosion. A small pop, bit of light, and the two combatants fell apart in smoke.

  Still not opting for more bloody projectiles, Zagan lurched forward again. Only this time, blood seeped from his pores and roiled around his arm, warping into a spiral-like drill. The bloody whirlpool lanced towards Kael’s forehead. Kael went up this time, using a small explosion on the rug of the train to pop up. He went over the blood screw fast enough that Zagan couldn’t change directions. Kael’s hand swung around and collided with Zagan’s cheek with a weak slap.

  Kael couldn’t explode Zagan directly, if there was one hard and fast rule of Sychokensis, that was it. But Kael’s own body was fair game. Kael pooled as much power as he dared into the outer layer of skin on his palm.

  “Burst.”

  Zagan reared back, howling and grasping his face. Kael’s spin in the air reversed, sending him flopping on top of the seat divider and then bending like a paperclip over it. Joshua scrunched his nose at the sudden assault of dead skin smell.

  With Zagan’s picking himself up at the entrance, Joshua considered if it was time to get his cheap shot in. The giant was momentarily gawking, unsure how bad the wound was; Joshua didn’t attack, cursing that it was surface.

  Kael rolled back into the aisle with groan and stood up like an old man with a hand on the small of his back. The other hand hung damaged, limply dripping with Kael’s own blood. Nevertheless, Kael straightened up and placed his guard up.

  Kael missed a breath, sucked in air for a second. He lost his footing and only regained it as his freehand reached behind and around to his shoulder.

  “Oh no.” Joshua realized it before Kael did. The crystalline shiv of blood Zagan had launched earlier was now deep in Kael’s left shoulder. Kael’s blood mixed with Zagan’s as Kael gave a terse scream, tearing it out.

  Joshua couldn’t be sure how Zagan had managed this. Whether he held a small thread to his power the entire time, or whether Kael’s bubble had fallend as he rag dolled onto the divider in a reverse “u”—an “n,” if you would.

  Kael’s fingers found the dagger and grabbed hard, tearing it free with a terse scream.

  If that pincer maneuver was planned, then Zagan was out of his brother’s league. Joshua needed a plan and he needed it now. He glanced around the car trying to find Gianna, two on one would be a good start, but he couldn’t even find her head peeping up to watch the show. Absolute coward.

  As the two combatant’s eyes locked once more across the mere feet that separated them, the door to the next car slid open. Joshua ducked again, but then thought better of it and poked out, seeing who dared to interfere.

  “Excuse me,” a man’s voice politely apologized as he pushed past Zagan’s men who crowded the connecting compartment. The goons muttered grunts and curses, but gave no resistance.

  The gray-haired man sauntered into the room. Head slightly cocked, he walked to Zagan who looked no less mystified than anyone else in the car.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  At this moment three things happened at once, and Joshua nearly went cross-eyed trying to keep up: Zagan pivoted, throwing a haymaker at the newcomer as a haze of blood pooled through his clothing and shield his backside from Kael. Kael slid under screen of blood that Zagan erected, popping up with the un-exploded pocket of his windbreaker primed. And then the gray man. He lazily spun around Zagan’s right hook and Zagan himself with a crackle of electricity running down his body. He intercepted Kael with a light press to the chest and threw him over Zagan’s barrier, sending him rolling down the aisle.

  Joshua nearly lost track as the screen of blood condensed into a noose around the gray man’s neck far too slowly. With a firm grip on Zagan’s robes, the newcomer pivoted and launched him into the incoming blood, sprawling down the aisle before landing besides Kael. Electric blue lines shot off Zagan and into the carpet.

  So is he or is he not an enemy? Joshua wasn’t sure what he would do either way.

  The intruder grabbed the bottom of his jacket and pulled it taught, nary a wrinkle to be seen, not a hair out of place. “Now everyone will remain calm,” he said with a direct stare at Zagan’s cronies inching to dogpile into the car, “I’ll only be a second.” He moved past them chest to chest-- “so nothing stupid, please.”

  He wasn’t gone for long, but in the meantime, no one dared move. Zagan’s crew looked to their unconscious boss for guidance, but he wasn’t stirring yet. Made sense they would cower when the bigger predator appeared. But the silence was oppressive all the same. Bartholomew shrugged at Joshua, as if that communicated anything. Gianna popped her head form the middle of the seat towards the end of the car, seemingly in self-debate.

  Nearly everyone jumped when Joshua sneezed.

  Finally, someone did move; Gianna had steeled herself with the action so long died out. She slunk out of her seat and crawled towards the unconscious bodies, up to Zagan, her hand doing a double take like a cat testing its purchase. She scrunched up Zagan’s robes over his heart.

  “I said no one moves.”

  Gianna froze as the goons parted and the gray man walked back into the car, the neck of a water bottle swinging idly between two fingers. Gianna hissed and scurried back into her seat and out of view. The gray man shook his head as he approached Zagan and Kael side by side, he unscrewed the cap and gave them a good splash each. Moans came first, then twitches.

  “You will leave immediately.”

  Zagan rolled to his knees and gave an affable shrug as he lifted himself from the ground. He smiled, causing the gray man’s shoulders to relax, and then he threw a gnarly punch aiming to disconnect head from neck.

  The gray man moved with his preternatural speed, bobbing the punch, but only just. Droplets of blood pulled from Zagan’s bare skin wherever visible, but the gray man was faster. He delivered a quick jab to the sternum, sending a quake of electricity rattling through Zagan’s body. The merely physical blow would have ricocheted of a Blood Syche of Zagan’s caliber, but Zagan dropped instead. Muscles spasming, Zagan rocked to his knees, somehow, and prepared to spring up again. But the gray man was there, the tips of index and middle finger resting on Zagan’s forehead. The overhead lights darkened, followed by Zagan yelping like a hurt dog. He fell to his belly and writhed—his oversized muscles threatening to snap his bones in half.

  Definitely a Lightning Syche, Joshua thought. Thought I saw it before, but, well, electricity moves fast.

  “We aren’t on your islands; we aren’t in your seas. When you’re in my territory,” the gray man knelt as the power surged. Zagan gasped through gritted teeth and arched his back. “I’d finish the sentiment, but I think you get the picture.”

  The gray man straightened his tie, inspected his cuffs as he pinned Zagan to the floor with a brown suede blucher. “That brat Stains has sent a line to every branch.” He cocked his head back, making sure Zagan’s men heard the message too. “He is missing both a prisoner and a kill squad, very eager to talk to both.”

  The short, darker woman stepped forward, naturally into the second in command role: “That’s why we’re here. Let us take the prisoner-- and the girl-- and we’re gone.”

  “They’re here with me now. I will look into this motley lot and if they are who you say they are, I will take the credit for myself. If they aren’t though, then there’s work to be done. Your squad can follow the next best lead, or go home. I truly do not care.”

  The gray man looked back to find Zagan crawling away, dragging his lower body. Using a seat to pull himself up.

  “Word of advice,” Zagan spat, the tone clashing with the floppy limbs, “old Knight to new, experience to altruism, you won’t live long sticking your neck out on acts of charity.” Zagan’s eyes swiveled to Bartholomew still under the table, to Gianna’s eyes prairie dogging over a divider. “In your territory, or not.”

  “Higher or lower than the man I just emasculated. The odds of survival that is.”

  Zagan stood as tall as he could, attempting to counterbalance a defeat that had crept into his eyes and left one twitching. Zagan pushed past his own people, into the next car.

  Joshua held his breath. It seemed like this new player was on their side, only because Zagan had called this an act of charity. If he was indeed another Knight, the gray man had plenty to gain by turning them in.

  Undoing the two buttons of his coat, the gray man slid into a booth and pulled his phone from its breast pocket. He looked up, expectant. “Well? Everyone don’t rush over at once.”

  Joshua checked on his brother first, who was sitting at another booth nursing nearly every part of himself. Kael ignored the hands signs and waived Joshua off, which probably meant he was fine.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll hobble over in a single,” Kael sighed.

  Gianna slunk out of a seat not far past him and shook her head. “Don’t want to talk to him.”

  The gray man hung his head into the aisle, “But I so want to speak to anyone who has assassin robes stuff under their jeans.”

  Joshua shrugged. “Can’t hurt to hear him out.”

  “It already hurts,” Kael grumbled, massaging his ankle.

  Joshua led the two of them on, joining Bartholomew and Emilie who had already seated themselves across from him.

  “Please sit,” the gray man said, motioning Joshua to the seat next to him or the booth over. “My name is Oloro. Or Mr. Hundo given your age.”

  “So, you’re like, what?” Joshua asked, taking the challenge and sitting next him. “A killer business man?” It wasn’t even the same fancy suit from the night before—Oloro traveled in style, en masse.

  Oloro smiled, inspecting his own pattern inlaid suit like it was novel. “I was a teacher five years ago and had much worse suits, never saw a tailor. Now it’s either black robes or this. And honestly, the robes feel more natural.”

  “That isn’t an explanation,” Kael said, arriving to the conversation and opting to rest against the back of the seat with a straight arm. Gianna skirted by underneath, moving past without touching him and sitting at the booth across from them.

  Oloro watched her with some interest before shaking his head. “The Commander for this region is something of an industrialist. There are more Knights for this region than any other—four to be precise—so we can assist him as body guards and liaisons as much as do the wet work. As childish as it may sound, a lot of the illegality in the corporate world is done in the light of day, quasi-publicly.

  “And a nice suit will get you as far as a mask,” Bartholomew added.

  “Mmm,” Oloro agreed. “With far less hassle.”

  “Can we dial it back a second?” Joshua asked. “To the part about you being a teacher? Because you’re one of them, and if the context clues are adding up, you seem to be helping us.”

  Oloro shrugged, digging in his other breast pocket and coming out with a worn deck of playing cards. “I was recruited. We all were, right?” He shot Gianna a friendly smile, trying to bond over some shared trauma.

  “Born in to the family,” she responded, flat.

  Oloro held up cards for Emilie to pick which she did happily before handing it back to be reshuffled. As much as she had gone through and was continuing to experience, Joshua expected he’d look back after the next life-threatening encounter and find a thousand-yard stare in her eyes, but nope. Out of everyone in the group, that little girl seemed the most immune from the adventure’s stresses; she was the only one in the entire car who hadn’t experienced loss either, not that Joshua knew of.

  The bigger question is,” Oloro flourished and fanned the cards across the table using his powers to generate static, “how have you not been recruited?” The question was aimed at Kael.

  Kael shrugged, “How could they?”