The Gun & The Whip

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Guns blazed, bodies fell, screams erupted, and soon it was hand to hand combat in the small room. The Questor's Bowie sang a song of death, which was echoed in kind by the Captain's sword. Finally they pushed the men from the room and the Questor slammed the door shut behind them before throwing a bar across the door. The were-cat came back into the room, blood covering his muzzle and raw flesh dropping from his claws. The Questor turned to the girl on the cross and with a wry smile said, "Well Ma'am, you've certainly got yourself in a hell of a fix here." She looked at him like he was out of his mind. "Are you going to get me down from here?" she growled angrily.

An appraising look from the Questor and the man she didn't know silenced her, and the blush that swept over her was truly impressive. Both men laughed heartily and then the Bowie flashed. The Questor caught her as she slumped from the cross and set her gently on the floor. She rushed over to Alice's side, the girl had passed out from the pain and the loss of blood and needed medical attention immediately.

While she tended to Alice, the Questor and his father huddled together. The Captain looked up and around and asked, "Where the hell are Raj and that girl?"

The Questor looked around, "Ya' know, I don't remember seeing either one of them."

The two men moved together out of the hole in the wall, leaving the were-cat with the womenfolk. The Questor first tied McKee's arms and legs together up behind his back and left him in a corner on his stomach. "I'll be back for you McKee, if I have to break out of hell!" As they rounded the building sporadic gunfire came their way from the few who had stuck around after the massacre in the ranch house. A few shots from the Questor and the Captain and the remainder of McKee's men at the ranch headed for the canyon.

The Captain's eyes swept the rocks around the cave. "There, up in the rocks on that ledge it's Raj and that girl."

Raj and the girl were struggling to get a large object placed just right on the ledge and just as the men from the canyon entrance swept back into the valley they whipped a tarp off of a gatling gun. With a wild whoop Raj began turning the crank and 45 caliber slugs tore into men, horses and plants equally.

McKee's men backed up into the cave, the few who were left standing and not bleeding in a dozen places just in time to be overtaken by Rog and the posse. Within minutes they lay dead or wounded, blood soaking the ground and the wails of tortured men filled the air.

Raj bounded down the rocks to the Captain's side with a huge grin on his face. "Damn that was fun, almost as good as sinking a merchant ship!" The girl merl followed demurely, a shy smile on her face when she spied Rog. His face in turn turned a bright red but the grin that filled his features spoke of the joy he had at finding her alive and well.

As the group gathered in the area around the front of the ranch house they heard a single gunshot from inside the building.

"Shit!" the Questor said and ran back to the building. As he got there he spied a horse racing from the back of the building towards the tunnel in the canyon wall where they had entered. McKee had somehow got free and had the girl Valerie thrown across his saddle as he fled. The were-cat staggered out of the back of the room through the hole in the wall. There was a bloody track across his temple where a derringer bullet had creased his skull. He growled a low and threatening growl and looked at the Questor. The Questor shook his head yes, and the two headed out at full tilt behind McKee.

The chase was on.

McKee grabbed the naked girl by the hair and dragged her into the darkness of the cave. He looked around for a moment and saw a torch in the wall socket. Grabbing it, he pulled a match from his pocket and lit the faggot. Down the tunnel he dragged her, her screams echoing from the narrow walls.

Valerie fought tooth and nail, but the man was too powerful for her. She laid his hand open with her fingernails and then bit him severely when he tried to silence her by covering her mouth.

He laughed at the pain and slapped her backhand to the point of dizziness. She moaned as he dragged her farther and farther into the darkness, finally taking a twist in the tunnel that led to a small cave. He doused the light from the torch, tied a piece of cloth in her mouth and waited by the entrance to the hole. He knew that they would be after him; he had been in here before and knew that they had to pass here to get to the other entrance.

The Questor and the were-cat raced across the plain between the ranch house and the ledge. In a short time they too were entering the tunnel, the Questor carrying a torch, the were-cat moving like a shadow through the darkness, able to see even in the almost non existent light in the tunnel. He moved ahead of the Questor quickly. He knew these tunnels, he was the guardian of the temple, which was what this was, and he had lived here for decades. There wasn't an inch of these grounds that he hadn't covered a thousand times, even some tunnels that led to dark holes that were better left untouched. There were things that lived in the stygian depths that were kept at bay only by the holiness of the temple. Things that would devour the world if turned loose.

The Questor felt the strangeness of this place, his senses were carefully honed and heightened by long years of fighting and the teachings passed on to him by his father and mother. He remembered tales of an ancestral home in the Himalayas where his grandfather reigned over a valley of peace and beauty never seen by most. Tales of a war between good and evil, of love on a monumental scale, of honor and duty. His heart beat more calmly as he thought of the blood that ran through his veins.

His thoughts turned to the girl. Something about her made her an almost constant craving in his depths. It was as if his life had been spent moving forward and preparing for the time when they would meet. He needed to find her, whole and well. There were answers that could only be provided by her, to questions that he had never known existed.

He realized suddenly that he was alone. The were-cat was far ahead of him, moving quietly through the tunnels. The cat had found the scent and with a feral growl was moving low and fast in his cougar form. He'd sensed that smell before, McKee was one who had violated the temple and who stole artifacts that belonged to the ones who had built it. He would pay with his life for the liberties he had taken. McKee waited in the dark in his arrogance. He was going to ambush the followers and then take the girl through the other way to the Dale. There he would take his time torturing and abusing her. He almost cackled in his zeal for the picture he painted in his head.

He stuck his head out of the cave to see if he could hear the followers. The claw was unexpected and he screamed like a girl when the talons of the cougar ripped through the flesh of his face and blinded him in one eye. His hand went to the gun in his holster and he drew quickly but the cougar was too fast. Claws raked him again and again and he spun and screamed and shot until he reached the back of the cave. The ground under him collapsed and he fell into a pit that was deep within the ground.

The Questor heard the shots and caught up to the cougar. Once again the cat went through the shape shift and stretched to a manlike figure erect on two legs. He bowed to the Questor who mumbled something about "not being royalty, quit the damn bending."

The girl watched all this with her mouth full of the gag, her screams echoing from her throat causing them both to turn and look at her. The Questor raised the torch and looked down at the naked beauty in front of him. A huge grin split his face and the were-cat purred a chuckle of sorts. The Questor removed the gag and immediately she began talking, "what took you so long, he was going to rape me, he hurt me, god I'm glad y'all found me."

Deep in the pit, McKee's broken body came to life with pain. A scream ripped from his lungs at the myriad bolts of lightning slashing through his nerves from the broken bones and the bullet hole. He bit his tongue till it bled when he suddenly heard a snuffling growl behind him. His head turned slowly and he saw a pair of eyes the size of dinner plates glaring at him from the darkness. They were blacked out for a second and when he realized why it was too late. The jaws opening had blocked his vision of the eyes and when he saw them again the jaws were fastening themselves on his throat. His last sight in the world was of a monster from hell and then his head was torn from his body.

The Questor took the girl in his arms like a baby and followed the were-cat through a maze of tunnels. The were-cat had heard the roar of the dark beast in the pit and was in a hurry to reach the temple before it came out and hunted. The only thing that woke it up had been the blood, he regretted allowing McKee to fall into its lair but it was too late to do anything but run. There was a ritual to be performed, although at this point the were-cat was the only one with that knowledge. He'd known since spotting the Bowie that the One had come, that the prophecies were true, that the tribal memories could be passed and honored.

The Questor was extremely aware of the girl in his arms. Her fragrance and her fear served to heighten his desire for her. He wasn't a man who had been often accused of chivalry, but he felt very protective of her. He glanced up from her face; the were-cat was beckoning frantically. He wondered what the rush was, and then heard the roar behind him in the tunnel. "What the hell is that?" the Questor turned to the darkness and peered into the tunnel. The were-cat grabbed his shoulder and pulled him away from the sound. Beckoning, the cat transmitted to him that they were in great danger and needed to get out. They ran, the were-cat leading the way, the Questor carrying the girl. There was no time left, they must move quickly or become a meal. They came through the back tunnel of the cave behind the waterfall. The light shone dimly through the wall of water beyond and just as the Questor headed for the exit the were-cat stopped him.

The Questor looked at him curiously, what could be so important that they would allow whatever that was to catch up? The were-cat looked over the paintings on the wall and finally pointed to one. The Questor laid the girl on the altar and looked at the symbols that the cat had directed him to.

There was a man, and a girl. They were on the altar that was behind him. There was a shaman standing by his arms in the air, apparently chanting.

The next figure showed the man and the girl copulating. The next showed two cougars sliding down from the altar and standing side by side, one with deep green eyes, the other with a maddened blue shade. The Questor looked to the were-cat and his eyes asked the question. The were-cat nodded yes and pointed to the altar, the girl naked on it just beginning to stir.

The Questor slid out of his clothes and climbed onto the altar with the girl

Valerie stirred as the man rose above her. Her eyes fluttered and then opened wide at the sight of the Questor, naked and rampant, straddling her hips. As she started to protest, his hands slid up her arms and positioned her wrists at the top of the altar. The were-cat quickly bound them there. Her hips rose as if to buck him off but his weight held her firmly in place.

She looked in his eyes, fearing she would see the lust and vileness of McKee and was surprised to see the blue eyes looking calmly back at her with a look of longing. Her body relaxed under his gaze and then she felt his knee insinuate itself between her thighs. She tightened them, she was a virgin, and being taken on a stone altar in a cave wasn't what she had planned for herself the first time.

The were-cat growled and looked up the tunnel. There wasn't time for niceties or romance. There was an evil that had been awakened by the taste of blood and the ceremony must be consecrated before it issued forth. He quickly secured the girl's ankles to the altar and had her splayed out for the Questor.

The Questor looked deep into her eyes, a mixture of lust, passion, and concern for her roiling the steel blue. His eyes traveled down along her body, her full breasts rose and the nipples tightened and hardened under his gaze. His hand traced the path of his eyes and teased the nipples to their full glory, the girl blushing as her breathing sped up and her pussy moistened. His lips soon followed suit, slowly traveling down her body, suctioning her nipples into his warm mouth. His tongue circled and tormented her aroused nipples and when his hand drifted across her belly she moaned aloud. Small cries rose in her throat when his lips kissed their way down her tightened belly and over the mons. His fingers reached her wetness and her body jerked in response when he separated her lips and traced the wet pink flesh.

His tongue stabbed into her open gash and her hips tightened and rose, arching her back up off the altar as he tasted her. His eyes closed and his tongue raced over and over her pulsating flesh until she quivered and cried out in her first virgin orgasm.

The were-cat watched, soon, soon the ceremony would begin and the protector of the sacred grounds would be complete. His eyes twitched back and forth nervously from the altar to the tunnel.

When the Questor rose from his position and lay across the girl's trembling body the were-cat stepped out from the shadows. As the man's cock slid slowly into her tight, wet treasure a chanting sound rose from the cat's throat. When the Questor was implanted firmly in the girl, her mouth agape trying to catch air, his hips rising and falling in a timeless rhythm; a strange ululation burst from the alien lips of the cat and the air seemed to stand still. There was a sense of other places, other faces, other times in the cave. The ceremony was linked to many places and times. The Questor had repeated this ceremony time after time over the centuries but the line had grown thin. The were-cat had waited for what seemed an eternity to be awakened and to preside over the ceremony, much as the monks of the Questor back in the Himalayas.

The change began, the sexual union becoming more and more feral. Muscles flexed and altered, flesh was replaced by short tan fur, teeth grew, claws erupted and soon the two cougars were mating in the way of the wild. The bonds had long since fallen off the girl and she snarled and heaved as the large male penetrated her to her core from behind, his claws raking and marking the flanks of her.

With a mighty roar the large cougar spewed his seed into the smaller female. She growled and curled, this was her design, this was what she had been born for; to serve the male. Screams of wild origin tore from both their throats in an ancient song and the two cats finally curled together, spent.

As their breathing slowed and their eyes became accustomed to the dark the opening to the tunnel exploded with fury. The creature was loose and soon it would be free from the tunnel, the cats stood side by side and faced the darkness, lips curled, teeth showing, snarling.

The beast burst forth into the cave, a reptile from the depths, not seen in these parts in centuries. Its cold eyes searched and spotted the cats, the long tongue flickering from its jaws, then it slowly moved toward them. The male leaped between the beast and the female and they slowly backed out into the falls and swam across the small pond to stand their ground in the open. The beast rose from the falls, immense, winged and furious. There would be no quarter.

The two cats glared at the intruder in the Dale. Huge, winged, fire breathing, it was a nightmare from another time and another place. Released from its prison in the rocks by McKee's blood it had issued forth upon the world for one purpose only. Destruction.

The reptilian eyes turned to the growling cats; it was preternaturally wise and had seen others like these before. Over the centuries it had been locked in and restored to freedom no less than three times by the Indians who used the Dale as a holy place. There was a power focus in this place that fed both good and evil. The cats were a symbol of freedom and were worshipped by the Indians. For that reason alone the beast would kill them.

The eyes focused on the cats, the male stepping to the front of the two with the smaller female close at hand. Gone were the human minds of the Questor and Valerie, they had been replaced with the feral, savage minds of the cougar. There was a dim remembrance of another body, and an inherent knowledge that this beast was an old and mortal enemy of its kind. The male had a memory of a knife, a large Bowie with a handle carved in the likeness of the dragon. The thought of the blade turned the cat eyes a solid blue, his muscles rippled in the sunlight and the air was filled with menace.

The beast saw the look, and noticed the change of eyes. There was something about this cat that disturbed it and kept if from attacking as it normally would. There was a blaze down the cat's back that resembled a sword which made the dragon recoil in memory. It had seen a sword; carried by shaman, always when it was cast back into the darkness the sword had been present. The cat growled and the female joined in. The growl decided the next step. The dragon launched into the air, soaring high above the Dale, stretching its wings until they blocked the light falling on the cats. It felt good to be free; it wanted blood and lots of it.

The dragon roared and the flames erupted into the pond. Steam rose and the visibility dropped to zero. The cats backed up, the hair on their hackles rising and a low growl rumbling from both. The first pass of the dragon almost spelled the end of the male. The dragon came blasting in from the fog that had raised, the wings silent, and only the smell of its breath to warn the cat at the last second. Its claws tore across the powerful shoulder muscles of the cat and sent it tumbling two or three times before it came to a halt and staggered back up on all fours.

The dragon roared with rage, it had drawn first blood. This time it would finish off its enemies and then be free to roam. Memories of buffalo and small scattered tribes that were easy pickings flashed through its mind. The dragon flew high again and flipping over on the climb dove straight back down to finish the cat off. As it came in low over the water, the female came out of nowhere. Her claws raked its wing throwing it off balance and it missed the male completely, almost crashing into a tree.

Two men appeared at the cavern opening behind the falls and quickly made their way out. The Captain took a look at the situation and remembered tales of the Questor that talked of the sword he wore. Raj glared at the dragon. Raj was old, very old by the scale of men. He had seen combat with the Questor in the Himalayas, had fought creatures that were not meant to be free in this world and was himself of a strange race.

The Captain passed the sword to Raj; his talents would be more useful here. Raj climbed the cliff face to the top of the falls and stood looking out over the Dale. The cats' eyes swung toward the man who suddenly launched himself into the air falling straight through the air with the sword drawn. Before he hit the water a change occurred. Wings appeared, his golden eyes shone like beacons and he swept down and up, straight up, almost out of sight into the sun.

The cats hunched and growled at the dragon that had landed and was lumbering toward them. They would soon be fighting face to face, claw to nail.

Out of the sky came a blaze of wings and steel. Raj attacked from above while the cats struck low. The dragon saw the sword, saw the dragon crest and responded to the threat. Its head snaked back and threw flames up at Raj. The male cat leapt and sunk its teeth and claws into the dragon's throat, the female attacked its underbelly.