“Wish I’d gotten invisibility and you got the horn,” Cran said without even trying to hide his feelings. “I could do a lot with invisibility.”
“If you could control it,” Wilbur said.
“You are surrounded with superior forces and superior weaponry,” called a voice on a loud-speaker.
Wilbur looked at Cran. Panic spread across Wilbur’s face and he suddenly vanished from view.
Cran shook his head, picked up a grenade launcher and walked to the window. He looked out. “Awwww stuff it,” he yelled. “Just try and come in.”
“You have been found guilty of defilement by the Grand High Council of the Order of the Horn,” the voice said over the loud-speaker. “Exit the premises peacefully. Force has been authorized.”
“What do we do?” Wilbur asked as Cran rushed by him to look out the back window.
“They don’t look like the Unquus Labs people. A couple are wearing armor.”
“Medieval armor, but a lot more high-tech.”
Cran opened a foot locker behind the couch.
“What do we do?” Wilbur asked.
Cran pulled out a shoulder mounted grenade launcher. “Say Hi.”
“This is your final warning,” said the voice on the loudspeaker. “Exit the premises within the next ten seconds with your hands raised or we will be forced to intervene.”
Wilbur crept up to the window and looked out. All around the tree house the Order of the Horn had set up barricades, and behind each barricade stood four to five people dressed in hi-tech medieval armor with what Wilbur guessed were laser sighted projectile weapons pointed at the building. Behind them was a cavalry of sorts, heavily armored humvees with souped up versions of the handheld weapons sticking out of the top.
Cran cocked his grenade launcher, aimed and fired at the humvee behind the closest barricade. Knights of the Order of the Horn and their squires scattered out of the blast radius as the humvee exploded into a beautiful fireball.
“Run while you can, Willy,” Cran called over his shoulder as he aimed his grenade launcher and fired at his next target.
“Don’t worry about me,” Cran said. He looked over his shoulder to where Wilbur had been standing, but Wilbur was nowhere to be seen. Cran grumbled about the ingratitude of house guests as he turned his attention back to the threat at hand.
As soon as Cran had hit the first humvee, the Knights of the Order of the Horn had begun firing their weapons at “The Deathtrap.” At first it didn’t seem like the weapons were doing much of anything, but soon Cran’s horn started to sweat, the temperature in the room had gone up ten degrees. Cran kept firing at the humvees and anyone he could see. Suddenly a box of ammo exploded like a pack of firecrackers. They’d been close to a window and had felt the full force of the heat ray. Cran knew it was just a matter of time before the Deathtrap exploded. Cran had just calculated the maximum number of combatants he could take out with that explosion when the air suddenly cooled. Cran peeked out of a window and saw a heat gun floating in the air, turned toward the knights who fired on Cran. “That idiot is good for something,” Cran said.
Wilbur who’d barely incapacitated one of the knights and stolen his heat gun, turned and fired it at the line. The line of knights turned towards Wilbur, more annoyed than hurt, but when they saw the gun floating in the air rage swelled into their faces and they turned there guns on Wilbur. “Defiler!” one shouted.
They quickly overwhelmed Wilbur, in his fear and confusion he turned visible again. Two of them grabbed him and held him while a third punched him. Before they could do any real damage, though, the Deathtrap exploded in one giant fireball. Wilbur looked up to see the silhouette of a man with a horn jumping at his captors.
Cran made quick work of the knights that held Wilbur, the one who had punched Wilbur and three others who looked on. These knights had not been trained in close hand to hand combat and despite their fancy weapons they went down just as easily as every other force Cran had taken on.
“You ok, Willy?” Cran asked as he hoisted Wilbur to his feet. (He ‘d fallen to his knees as Cran took out his captors.) Wilbur wiped the blood away from his lips with the back of his hand and nodded. With the hole in the perimeter Cran had just created, Cran and Wilbur set off at a run, deeper into the woods.
To Be Continued…