by GoozX
A tourist bus sped through the empty, slick roads of La Perdita. Hail pelted every side of the automobile as the windshield wipers worked hard but were no use in helping to see into the darkness that engulfed the small island. The passengers of the coach all had big smiles on their faces and felt at ease. They swayed with the turns almost on a pleasure high, never complaining, nor feeling the fear that most would in this situation.
"Greem, comrade, you are thinking this were the best idea?"
At the wheel was the large Biker from Hell who, if he didn't know better, would think he was almost back there. The features of his skull face never changed as he concentrated on the darkened roads in front of him.
Blackwulf turned toward the passengers they were able to round up and keep safe so far. The empty looks and smiles made Wulf raise an eyebrow. "Could I be getting some of what they are on?" the large-set, Russian man said with a smile and a pat on the back to Tayden.
Tayden, who was in deep concentration, shook abruptly and lost concentration for a moment, and everyone panicked at once. Then, after a moment, they were back in heaven.
Under the apartment complex, Dr. Henry Quantos looked on with shock. The Island had been covered in darkness during mid-afternoon. The storm had kept getting worse, never letting up and never giving people a minute to breathe.
Nearby, Grissom Montag let out a sigh of relief. The man known simply as Priest did the same, never letting Grissom notice.
"Close call," Grissom said, "but I never doubted our abilities."
"It should be able to hold up for at least the night." Priest paused. "But we should keep an eye on it just in case." Priest's left hand shook a little. He subtly brushed his right hand over it and held it in place.
Grissom noticed this. "Everything okay, buddy?"
"Let's just say that all gifts have their little side-effects."
"Anything I can do to help?"
"I'll be fine." Priest shrugged it off as nothing.
Out on the island, Dirk Bell leaped over a ledge with a baby in his hand; he used his back to break the fall. Rolling with the baby carefully cradled in a blanket in his arms, he was able to finally make it to the basement doors. Trying to open the doors, he noticed that they had been locked from the inside. He pounded on the door as the building slowly crumbled around him.
"Open the freaking door!" Dirk yelled, pounding his right arm on the hard steel.
His eyes closed, and he took out a small gun. Holding the baby's head close to his chest, he carefully covered the girl's ears.
BLAM!
The door quickly flung open when his boot connected. Rushing inside, there was a group of people, afraid in the corner. A man in a business suit had a shotgun in his hand.
"SHUT THAT DOOR!" he yelled with fury in his eyes.
With one swift move, a brick that had laid next to Dirk's foot nailed the guy in the head, knocking him out.
"I'll say this once," Dirk commanded. "This door stays unlocked. You hear any screams, you get off your ass and help."
Dirk handed the baby to a young lady and quickly exited. As he got back out into the street, the winds had gotten worse. He covered his face as the rain pounded the side of his body; it would be best to find cover right about now.
Before he could react, a hand grabbed his side and lifted him off the ground and into the air.
"Don't worry, good citizen," said a youthful voice, "the PSI-Unit will keep you safe."
Over the shoreline, Phil Smith stood his ground, using willpower to fight the very force of the tides that had begun to strike with a vengeance against the very island itself. Blood began to flow from his ears as his teeth gritted together, his head throbbing with the very power of the earth and nature against him.
For a second, his mind wandered. That was all it took for him to be overpowered. The water collapsed around him, caving him in and throwing his body around like a rag doll.
He hit the rocky edge of the shoreline, and the wind carried him back over the land and through a small shack on the outer border of the shoreline.
By some miracle, Phil was able to open his right eye, his left side bruised. Hovering over him was a large man in primitive dress. His tanned skin and pure white Mohawk gave him a distinctive yet crazed look.
"Ton-Ton thanks the gods for this prize. Ton-Ton shall feed well as the storm cleans the evil from our home."
Under the apartment complex, the basement doors flung open. People began rushing in at Grimm and Wulf's guidance. Tayden was at the back of the group. He noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Grissom and Priest quickly moved to help everyone in and to keep the peace.
Grimm grabbed Tayden by the shirt so he could close the doors.
"Wait, there are people out there," said the angel.
Grimm paused and looked outside. Torches and the reflection of blades shone in the near distance. Truck and car headlights broke through the darkness.
They were here. This was bad, very, very bad.