During one of his sweeps over Brookline, Hans heard the sounds of scuffle and dove down sharply, plasma trailing a comet's tail behind him. A scream and thud echoed between the buildings, then gunshots.
     "Aaaaagh! Get away!"
     It came from any alleyway about two blocks from a temple. Two men lay motionless on the ground, while a third was held up against the wall by someone wearing a trench coat. The victim had a gun against his assailant's chest and pulled the trigger again and again, to no apparent effect.
     Hans dove into range and threw a tightly controlled plasma blast at the man in the trench coat. No effect. The attacker threw the man he had pinned in a high arc certain to kill him if should fall.
    Hans caught the victim and set him down on the roof, called 911 after realizing how badly injured he was, and circled around to find the attacker again, eyes open for sewer gratings and manhole covers, anything which might have been a route of escape. One grate showed signs of white clay around it. He blasted it apart and climbed down into the sewers, intent on the pursuit.
     There was no sign of him, or it. Promethean filled the sewer with plasma in both directions, sending rats scurrying for safety; he kept up the barrage for several minutes, but remained frustratingly sure that the man had escaped him. He returned to the alley to examine the victims; two were dead, the third in poor condition.
     The dead men were doused in the gasoline they had been carrying before they were assaulted. All three were tall, blonde, broad-shouldered. He checked their wallets and found fake identification—sequential Social Security numbers, sequential addresses from different states, names like Williams and Jones. Promethean waited for the paramedics to arrive and asked them to call one of the team if the third man lived, then proceeded to tell the police about what had happened. They didn't seem impressed with his news of the "white clay killer."
    

| Top |