A Lazy Mage Quests (Un)EZ Creds Ch. 02

The man raised the katana to a high guard position and moved toward the sound of Spector's voice. He bumped into the end of the aisle shelving with a forearm. The man's free hand shot out toward the bumped shelf, batting packaged cupcakes onto the floor. Spector cast the spell while the man was somewhat silhouetted by the neon glow and before he entered the darkness of the aisle. The katana slipped from the man's fingers, clattering to the floor. Then the man pitched sideways clambering for purchase on the shelving but accomplishing nothing more than raking baked snack confections as he fell.

Approaching the fallen man warily, Spector holstered his guns, picked up the katana and brutally kicked the man in the chin. He saw no signs of consciousness, only flying blood and broken teeth and backed down the aisle, turned and moved through the gap that perpendicularly bisected all the aisles. Spector checked behind him and noticed the neon beer advertising on the wall, realized he might be silhouetting himself and moved down aisle 10 toward the back wall with the frozen food units.

Spector stopped just within the aisle, put his back to the shelves and squatted to take advantage of the available cover. Dropping the channeled spirit's powers he'd been using, Spector summoned a new spirit. A big new spirit. A spirit to help him exploit the advantages he was manipulating for himself. Spector told it to attack anyone who attacked him or whom he attacked then reactivated the guard and concealment powers on himself and the new spirit.

Steeling his nerve, Spector rounded the shelving into the aisle fronting the freezer cases, saw no one and continued around to aisle 8 and saw the white haired guy who had been talking to the toaster. The toaster talker held out an arm in a protective gesture in front of the toasters. The other arm held a shotgun as the man looked up and down the aisle. Spector tried recalling what he'd noticed before the robbery started. The man had not been in any strategic position, or even looking like he was casing the place. He'd looked wet like perhaps he had ridden in on one of the bikes out front. His aura was about one-third dark, evidently due to cyberware. His aura showed confusion, concern, and worry.

Past the bisecting aisle gap was the couple dressed in the synth-leather jumpsuits. One was squatting, the other on hands and knees, both moving large bags of cat litter and dog food into a makeshift defense, their auras showing fear. As Spector watched, one of them crawled onto the shelf from which they had pulled the bags. Smart Spector thought and let all of them be and moved to the next aisle.

The ork boy and his mother had made it down the aisle past the gap, so had crossed from aisle 5 to aisle 6. The boy's aura was filled with fear. His mothers was a mixture of fear and confusion, though not the same type confusion as the male figure standing near them. Spector recognized the aura of a being under the power of spirit confusion in the man by them; the man holding the gun in a slack grip. Spector approached them. The boy's eyes seemed to followed Spector. It dawned on Spector that the kid was an ork and might be able to see him in the near darkness if the kid saw past the concealment enveloping him. Spector moved the katana behind him, out of the kid's sight and dropped the spirit concealment. Spector considered the situation and tried to find a course of action that would get them out of harm's way.

There might be someone between them and the entrance doors. The shaman had been there and that girl had run in that direction after he went down. There was a guy with a gun right there by them, although he was affected by the spirit's confusion and no immediate threat. Still, he needed to be neutralized. And the guy up at the check out counter. And there was no telling where more of the gang was. Spector checked his immediate surroundings looking for items that might help. He recognized he was in the first aid section, but his astral sight prevented him reading what anything was, only giving him any emotions imposed while the lettering was printed. It would be nice to find some tape he thought, but the contours of the packaging were not helping him locate any. Ace bandages maybe? Tranq Patches! But how to find them? Maybe the kid can read the description? Spector considered the kid for a second and realized he probably wasn't old enough to read. Then he identified some rolls of bandages on the bottom shelf, the kind used for wrapping sprains.

Squatting down to eye level with the ork kid, Spector whispered to him, "We have an advantage over a lot of the people in the store. We can see in the dark better than them. So you will need to lead your mom out of here when I make sure the way is clear. OK?"

The kid hesitantly nodded.

"Did this guy hit you?" Spector indicated the man with the gun.

The kid nodded without hesitating.

"Ok. Then I think I'll even it out and hit him back before we go," Spector said, then took the gun from the man's hand. Spector slammed the gun into the man's head as hard as he could, hoping to give him a concussion or at least knock him to the ground. In the movies, it almost always worked. It sort of worked this time, but not as smoothly. The man grunted, and staggered, his hands shot out to steady himself and knocked packaged pain meds from the shelves. Spector tried kicking the legs out from under the man and then the spirit jumped into the fray and the man went down, silent and still. Spector grabbed some of the bandages and tried ripping the plastic wrap keeping them in orderly rolls. The plastic was tougher than it looked and Spector thought about using the katana to slice through it, decided the katana was too unwieldy for the task and tore through the plastic with his teeth. As Spector bound the downed man's hands behind him he got the ork kid to open another roll of bandages, may as well put those tusks to good use Spector thought, and the kid had the roll opened and waiting for him to bind the legs as soon as he had finished with the hands.

Spector motioned for the kid to lead his mother around the end of the aisle by the frozen food case. The mother knocked something off the shelf and it crashed. As Spector followed, full auto gunfire erupted behind him. The frozen food case took the brunt of the attack. The shelf was mangled, the front tilted down. Cans of frozen juice concentrate rolled off the shelf through the now glassless door and danced in freedom across the floor until finally bursting open or just spinning and rolling to a stop. Spector looked to where the gunfire originated and saw the girl who had run screaming toward the shaman preparing to fire a submachine gun again. Spector ducked as the laser sight searched for him and another full auto fusillade raked the area his head had recently vacated, impacting glass frozen food doors behind him. Spector wondered is she just firing at sound? Let's see how she likes it. Blindly pointing the pistol he had taken from the man over the tops of the shelves, Spector attempted to return fire in her direction.

Nothing happened. Spector inspected the weapon by touch, found then switched the safety off, and tried again. The gun roared, then two more times. The submachine gun fire failed to skip a single beat. He stopped shooting as he considered it was not discouraging on the woman and only increased the likelihood of a friendly fire incident. Spector was at the corner of the shelving, trying to use it as cover but realizing he was partly exposed to the aisle fronting the frozen food cases as well as exposed to aisle 2. Keeping low and using the spirit's power to conceal himself again, Spector moved the ork kid and his mother up aisle 2 and toward the entrance doors.

As Spector started toward the ork kid and his mom, a shotgun blast thundered along the aisle fronting the frozen food cases, destroying copies of an old Russel Zimmerman novel in a carousel sitting in the corner minding their own business. The next instant screams and full automatic fire came from the submachine gun toting woman, giving rise to further screams of terror and desperation. Bullets chased the probing laser, riddling bundles of toilet paper in the aisle near her, then impacting above the frozen food case and finally punching into the ceiling tiles and stitching a trail back toward the shooter. The magazine ran dry and the gun went silent then uttered its submission as it clattered to the floor. Spector stole a look over the shelving to where the sound emanated near the front of the store and saw his spirit engaging the girl. Her spike heeled boot lashed out, then she went down with a sickening cracking sound under the spirit's onslaught.

From the aisle fronting the frozen cases came, "Now see what you made me do? You made me hurt those books! Those books never did nothin'. They never hurt nobody."

What the... Spector thought as he ducked and the shotgun thundered again. Aerosol paint cans exploded from the display on the end cap showering the floor in a spectrum of color as the cans clattered, spun and rolled around the floor.

"Now you made me hurt those cans!" More shots thundered and Spector did his best to vacate the area, wondering how the guy was identifying anything in the dark. The shotgun fire walked up the aisle, ripping through the shelves. The first shot found automotive antifreeze/coolant, puncturing gallon jugs stocked three deep, their contents flowing from the shelf and the jug nearest the edge falling to the floor. The next two shots found quart bottles of engine oil. Apparently, they lacked the mass to stay in place and the first to feel the impact plowed those ahead of it on its way over the shelf's edge. Spector prodded the woman and ork kid to keep them ahead of the shotgun's walking fire, then decided to end this insanity.

Using a burst of speed for a couple steps, Spector leaped into the pooling oil and skated across the floor, his feet sending containers spinning, then across the antifreeze/coolant, bumping a jug or two, and slid to a halt in wet paint near the frozen food cases, his momentum spent. Maybe the spirit's guard power kept me from falling Spector thought or maybe I'm just that good. Time seemed to slow. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or the deadliness of the situation, or the shotgun barrel coming to bear on him, but Spector was calm and focused as he took time to aim, took time to note his breathing, let his breath exit, and calmly and coolly triggered a double tap at the maniac firing the shotgun. The shots found their intended mark and the man paused. A look of bewilderment came over his face, then his legs ceased supporting him and he sat down hard. A moment later he toppled over on his side.

Spector kept the pistol pointed at the fallen shotgun wielder and walked toward him, sliding his feet as he shuffled forward to get paint, oil and fruit juice off the soles. As he approached aisle 6, he took a quick glance down it, saw no threat, then took a better look as he walked past it. At the far end, the machine gunning woman was prostrate. Spector passed the aisle and refocused his attention on the man. Reaching him, Spector placed the pistol's muzzle in the man's ear, put the katana down and tried taking the shotgun but was stymied by the attached sling. Finding the clasp, Spector released it, unslung it, fastened the clasp, and slung it over his own neck and shoulder then searched for more weapons. Turning up a sheathed knife and taser, Spector pocketed the taser, skidded the knife far away from the downed man under shelving and picked up the sword and resumed his search.

Calling on a spirit, Spector asked it to find all the people in the building, give him a mental image as they were found and be prepared to lead him to them. I should have done this first thought Spector. The spirit ticked off the stock boy taking cover, the manager taking cover, the downed man Spector had taken the katana from, the teenage elf male who had been menaced by the katana guy, the couple barricaded behind bags on a shelf, the man he'd shot and taken a shotgun from, the submachine girl, the ace bandage tied man, the shaman, the ork boy and his mother, Candy and the ganger who was hiding behind her.

Spector made his way up the aisle, took the bisecting midway aisle, then turned up aisle 6, stepping over fallen toilet paper packages, and found the girl with the submachine gun. He placed the katana blade across her neck, pocketed the pistol and took away the submachine gun. Searching for more weapons, Spector turned up two clips for the submachine gun and pocketed a butterfly knife. Spector stepped away from the woman, set the katana on a shelf, reloaded and recharged the submachine gun, retrieved the katana and headed for the checkout counter.

Placing the katana under his arm and pinning it there, Spector used his freed hand to signal to the elven checkout girl to come toward him. Candy hesitated, then took tiny, six-inch steps away from the man hiding behind her with a shotgun. The further Candy got from the shotgun man the longer and faster her steps became. When Candy was half way to Spector, Spector directed her with an arm wave toward where he'd seen the store manager take cover. Spector sidestepped Candy as she neared him and caught movement coming at him from the side. Turning to the threat, Spector saw the elven boy grab Candy and pull her to the side, shielding her body with his own.

"Stay down, Candy. I'll protect you," the boy said, his voice not sounding as confident as the words.

Spector nodded to the boy and considered arming him. He decided against it, not wanting to risk getting attacked and hoping the threats were nearly over. Moving toward the counter, a smile came to Spector's face as he thought I wonder if that is the beginning of a beautiful relationship? Odder things have happened.

As Spector approached the man who had used Candy for a meat shield, he maneuvered to see behind the opening Candy had used to exit her station. Spector got an unobstructed view of the man and threw the spell. The man fell to the floor. Spector relieved him of the shotgun, then the revolver turned up in a quick search. Spector suppressed the urge to kick the man in the genitals as lightning flashed and drew his attention.

Turning toward the light, Spector realized how close he was to the exit and decided to take his leave. Thunder rumbled as he picked up the shotgun as he went, making up an armful of weapons.

The cool night air blew across Spector's face as he left the Grab-N-Go™. Spector spotted the ork boy and his mother backing out in the Americar and made his way to his own car. He opened the trunk, put the commandeered weapons in it, and got in his car.

No longer in fight or flight mode, a few loose ends occurred to Spector, overriding his desire to leave. Spector turned on the dome light, loaded his weapons with color coded magazines appropriate to the job at hand, and got the flashlight out of the glove compartment. Weapon in hand, Spector re-entered the Grab-N-Go™.

The swamp spirit glowed brightly on the astral plain. It appeared to be victim to the confusion power used by Spector's spirit. Spector let the beam fall across the Shaman, making sure he hadn't revived, then moved to look over the check out counter and check the man there. Finding things as he had left them, Spector figured the items he needed were probably in the automotive or hardware section and decided to look in hardware first just to avoid the mess in the automotive aisle. As Spector passed the shaman, he noticed the astral glow coming from foci the shaman possessed. Spector took them, caring more about depriving the shaman their use than anything else.

In the hardware aisle, tools littered the floor where passing shotgun slugs had dislodged them. Spector let the flashlight beam search. He found rolls of duct tape and grabbed a couple. Spector returned to the shaman, duct taped the shaman's arms behind his back, his ankles together and, for good measure, took a loop around the shaman's head, covering his eyes, not caring about the ramifications when it came time to remove it.

Next in line was the man behind the counter. Again Spector used the tape to bind the man's arms and ankles. The submachine gun girl was next, and as Spector bound her in the same way, emergency lights flicked on. Movement drew Spector's attention and he turned to see the Grab-N-Go™ manager coming out of the back room. Spector gave the manager a roll of tape and told him to bind the last two attackers giving directions to where they had fallen.

Spector took the opportunity to slip into the back room and the office. Up above the desk was a trio of video recorders and a monitor. Hitting rewind, then play, Spector made sure it was the surveillance tapes, then ejected all three and pocketed them. Spector ordered the spirit previously tasked with concealing employees to search the unconscious for foci or anything magical, weapons, keys and credcards, and bring what it found to him. Then Spector began obliterating his astral signature from all the places he had used magic. The spirit turned over the retrieved items and Spector ended its service so he could work on its astral signature. Finishing up his work on the astral signatures within moments of starting, Spector went looking for the beer and umbrella he had come to get. After a moment of looking and not finding, Spector just went and got cold beer from the cooler and, to his dismay, the remaining hot pink colored umbrella, and made his way to the counter. No one manned it, so Spector polished both sides of one of the looted credcards then holding it by the edges, placed it on the counter atop a note he scribbled 6 pack beer, 1 umbrella and left.

Spector put the beer in his car and checked the keys the spirit brought him. Two had Suzuki emblems, so Spector checked to see if they fit the Suzukis in the lot. Both fit ignitions. Clicking a fob button, the van's lights flashed. Spector weighed the situation. On the one hand, Spector knew he should be leaving the scene as soon as possible before people arrived and started asking questions he didn't care to answer. On the other hand, he'd been dragged into this tale of woe and his best chance for being compensated for his trouble was sitting around the parking lot on wheels. Spector tried to estimate how long it had been since he had seen the manager coming out of the back room and wondered if the manager had taken the opportunity to send in an alert. Spector looked at the remaining keys and checked the bikes parked by the Suzukis. He matched a key to a BMW and a Yamaha.

Spector made the decision and called upon four spirits he had on stand by. He gave them instructions, programmed his own automobile to go to the Nakitomi Arcology and park, then got in the van and started to back out of the parking space. Pounding on the side window took Spector by surprise. Spector looked out the window and saw the Grab-N-Go™ manager beside the driver's side door, and behind him, four spirits pushing motorcycles down the side street adjacent to the store. Spector rolled the window down.

"I need your help! Please!!" said the manager, Mr. Tuck according to the name tag, while being drenched in the downpour.

Spector looked puzzled. Had the gangers gotten loose?

"I've been treating the gunshot wound with a medkit and it is telling me he needs to be taken to a medical facility immediately or he is unlikely to recover," Mr. Tuck said.

"So call SpeediER™," Spector said.

"Without an account, I fear they may be too late," Mr. Tuck said.

Good Spector thought. One less psycho in the world breathing my air. Or is he worried about liability for an attacker getting shot during his watch? Spector reminded himself time might be of the essence regarding law enforcement's arrival and asked, "What do you want me to do?"