The Return of the Unlucky Gun
The Return of the Unlucky Gun By Ralley Edited by Sidian
The city sprawled out below Tommy like a bright beacon against the twilight sky. The sun's rays shot out over the horizon from behind them and spread its light to the furthest reaches. The people below looked like ants, scurrying off to their places of work while the bustle of cars, buses, trucks, and trains rang out loudly among them.
Tommy looked up, he knew he could not fly on his own but he felt a pair of paws clutching him tight against a strong chest, he smiled at what he saw above him. The cities last hope, its beacon of light, and the one dog who saw that those who do evil would be herded into the pen of justice.
Wow! It's The Herder, Tommy thought to himself with much glee.
The form above him was athletic and huge, nearly seven feet tall with big chiseled muscles that would make any action movie star insanely jealous. It was obvious that The Herder was a canine, a German shepherd to be exact. His identity was hidden by a yellow mask that covered his eyes and wrapped around the back of his head, something in the mask made his eyes appear white and almost glowing. His body was covered in a form-fitting neon-yellow jump suit. In the middle across his chest was his emblem: a giant red H in a white oval. A red belt lined his middle; while most heroes had tool pouches along their belt for various gadgets and gear, The Herder was content with only his own powers and that's all that he needed, most of the time. He had an odd cape, when he was seen in flight you could see what could best be described as an aurora borealis where his cape would be. The moment he landed though, there was nothing there.
"Good morning little one," said The Herder, his voice deep, booming, and confident. "I was lucky to get you out of there safely, the entire farm exploded from a build-up of methane gas. What were you doing there anyway, so far from home?"
Tommy blinked a few times, he could not remember a farm or wherever he was in the past few hours. The last thing he remembered was walking home from school. He met up with someone, his head hurt when he tried to think about it more.
"I... I can't remember," Tommy said, "the last thing I remember was going to the park on my way home from school."
"We'll try to jog your memory," said The Herder, he looked down at his passenger with a smile, "I'm going to take you to see a friend then we'll go to the police and they'll take you home."
Tommy clutched tightly at The Herder's arms as they started to lose altitude. He knew The Herder would not drop him but Tommy held tight against The Herder and shivered. Heights never bothered Tommy but falling always did. The feeling of falling brought back memories of a time when he was very young and had fallen out a second story window while he was chasing a butterfly.
They dipped quickly between skyscrapers, birds and surprised office workers in buildings buzzed by rapidly as the pair shot like a speeding bullet through the downtown skyline. It looked like they were about to collide with the side of a brown building when The Herder pulled up, they climbed half the length of the building rapidly before slowing and gently landing on the roof.
"It's not wise to drop in unannounced, Herder," a grizzly voice said from the shadows of a tool shed sitting on top of the skyscraper, "especially this early in the morning. And you brought a guest! I should smack you."
"My apologies, BP," said The Herder. "My young friend here has been through a lot this morning. I thought I'd bring him to meet his favorite hero."
BP? Tommy thought.
Heavy footsteps creaked at the wooden floorboards of the shed as a dark figure walked out into the light, bending to exit the shed. He was even bigger than The Herder, his chest at least two feet broader and his height at least 3 feet taller. His fur was un-kept, not appearing to be matted in any area but it seemed to go off in all directions like he really needed a brushing. His fur was one solid color, a hay-blonde. Around his middle was a loincloth with a few buttoned pouches. His paws were massive, humanoid fingers with talon-like claws stretching an inch or two from the tips of his digits. White athletic tape had been wrapped between his elbows and his wrists as well as below his knees to his ankles. A pair of massive fangs hung down slightly from his muzzle.
"Beast Punch!" Tommy screamed with joy as he ran with his arms outstretched towards his favorite hero.
Beast punch got down one knee and embraced the tiny form tightly. The young pup knew from Beast Punch Chronicles #47 that, despite the hero's menacing appearance, he had a soft spot for kids.
Tommy turned his head towards The Herder.
"Wait, how did you know that Beast Punch was my favorite hero?" Tommy asked, perplexed.
"Nice shirt there, kid" said Beast Punch as he flicked a claw across the cotton fabric. The hero laughed softly and reached between the pup's ears to ruffle his hair.
Tommy looked down and blushed, realizing that he was wearing his Beast Punch T-shirt. His lips formed in an 'oh' shape but he did not make a sound.
"Listen kid," said Beach Punch, "there's something we have to ask you to do."
Tommy's ears perked up. He was ecstatic at the prospect of helping one of his favorite heroes.
"What is it?" Tommy asked.
"When Officer Chuckles asks your name don't answer at all." Beast punch said plainly.
Tommy's world began to spin out of control, it was as if he was dizzy but he knew that it was the world that was really was spinning around him. The rays of the morning were suddenly replaced by the darkness of night.
"A hero is looking for you Tommy" A female voice rang out from the sky. "Just hang on a little longer."
***
Tommy groaned as he opened his eyes. Everything was fuzzy and blurry and the noises in the room all sounded muffled as if something had been stuffed in his ears. Several feet above him was a bright light source, it stung slightly at his eyes when he looked up towards it. There was something else the pup couldn't identify, it felt like a sense of dread that made him want to run away as fast as his legs could carry him, but he couldn't fathom why.
A man appeared before him, Tommy had to squint to get a good look at him. He wore a black collared shirt with a gold badge pinned to his breast pocket. He had brown fur which was spotted black all over. He opened its mouth to speak but all Tommy heard was muffled sounds.
His vision was slowly getting better, the figure before him was a hyena in a police uniform. Tommy started to relax somewhat, he lowered his shoulders down and groaned once more, his head felt funny. The Officer turned and said something to another figure in the shadows before he turned back to Tommy and laughed a bit before ruffling Tommy's hair. He seemed to have a grin across his face that didn't quit.
"Kid? Kid?" asked the Officer, "Can you tell me what happened to you?"
Tommy lifted his head slightly but it felt like he was lifting an elephant.
"I-I was walking home," Tommy slurred out, his speech still erratic but growing clearer, "saw my fra-fri.. buddy in the p-park. I w-went to go p-play catch... with... him."
Tommy heard a figure behind the Officer speak but it was heavily muffled. The Officer turned towards it and shouted something back before turning and laughing loudly once more. There was something off about this hyena, like it was as if this was all some kind of game to him. Tommy wasn't sure what to think. He needed help and he knew his best option was the police.
"Okay," said the Officer, "can you tell me what happened next?"
"I-I'm not sure," Tommy slurred, " I tossed the ball to.. who did I toss it to? But.. there was... white smoke everywhere. I choked and fell."
The Officer was chuckling under his breath, holding a finger up at the edge of his snout, beneath his nose to try and conceal his giggling. Tommy looked down at his uniform, he had all the markings of a police officer and his name tag read 'MacKenzie.' That sense in the back of his mind fired off once more, the feeling that he should run away but he did not know why and he felt far too weak.
"Can you tell me your name, kid?" asked the Officer. He reached his right paw down towards his waist as if readying to grab something.
Tommy's senses returned suddenly and the fog in his head cleared away in an instant. He knew why his instincts were telling him to run. The smell of old blood was permeating the room. People were slaughtered here in droves, maybe not all at once but the smell made chills run down Tommy's spine. He felt his skin crawling under his fur.
When Officer Chuckles asks your name don't answer at all, the voice of Beast Punch echoed in his mind. He looked back to Officer MacKenzie who was still grinning and looked as if he was holding back a few laughs.
Tommy shook his head and looked around. He was in a weird wooden room; he guessed that it was probably a barn. Everything he could see inside looked old and rusty. He leaned off to one side, nearly falling out of the chair he had been placed in. The Officer grabbed Tommy's shoulders and straightened his balance.
"Careful kid," said the Officer, "we don't want you hurting yourself--Haha! I will be right back, just have to talk with my.. hehe... supervisor."
Tommy watched the Officer walk away into the darkness. He tried to get up from the chair but felt his knees give out from underneath him and he toppled like a rag doll to the floor, yelping in pain. Panic set in as he realized that he couldn't get out of here on his own. Before he could sprawl to his feet a pair of massive hands lifted him back onto the chair.
An older rhino appeared from behind him wearing a t-shirt, leather vest, and jeans. His horn was jagged as if it had been broken and hacked off. His face was a roadmap of scars and old burns.
"Easy there kid," said the Rhino, "Officer MacKenzie still has some questions for you."
Tommy wiggled against the grasp but found it was futile to fight it. The old Rhino reached beside the chair and began to wrap a length of rope around Tommy's chest and over his arms.
"What are you doing?!" Tommy shouted, "I want to go home! Let me go!"
"Can't have that just yet, pipsqueak," The rhino replied.
Tommy tried to squirm under the rope but found the old rhino had tied it tight and expertly. He fidgeted, wiggled, and swayed to and fro but, no matter what he did, the rope did not give in.
A large door opened about 10 feet in front of Tommy. Several men and Officer MacKenzie walked into the light a few feet away from where he sat. There was a cheetah with a scar running down his left cheek, a pair of ferrets with menacing looks on their faces, and an old corgi dressed like a gentleman. The corgi was hobbling on a cane. The rhino came out from behind Tommy and joined the other men.
They stopped at the edge of the light and talked amongst themselves for a moment. The old corgi walked close to Tommy. He was short and his fur was greying in many places. The smell of wine and old cigars seemed to marinate his fur. He wore a striped grey suit and matching fedora. Tommy was reminded of his grandfather by the smell.
The old man reached for Tommy's chin and grasped it. He looked into the pup's eyes and scrutinized him. Tommy growled and showed his teeth. The corgi responded with a laugh and then slapped Tommy across his muzzle hard. The pup felt the sting of the blunt blow against his muzzle and yelped in pain. The geezer turned towards the other men and walked a few paces before stopping. He leaned on his cane and sighed, reaching his suit to retrieve a cigar.
"Well, you idiots got the wrong kid," said the old man.
The men began to shout and tried to speak over one another to blame the others and explain themselves. The old man had no part of it and simply raised a paw to silence them.
"Relax, gentlemen" the corgi said calmly. "This is all part of 'plan b,' we want the district attorney to know we're serious and since we did not get his kid, we will kill this child to further prove our intentions."
The old man turned on his heel and reached into his suit once more, pulling out a black and silver pistol. Tommy's eyes went wide as he saw the barrel of the gun pointed right at him. He started to shake, tears started to well up in his eyes and wet the fur along his muzzle.
"No! Please," Tommy begged, "don't kill me. Someone help me!"
The end of the old man's cigar lit up red for a few seconds as he took a slow drag off of it before tossing it aside and cocking his gun.
"I'm sorry son," said the old man, "there's nothing personal in this. It's all entirely business."
"No!" Tommy shrieked as the seconds seemed to turn into minutes, he could see the trigger of the gun slowly being depressed. He closed his eyes.
There was a loud bang. Tommy opened his eyes to see the men scurrying away from a cloud of white smoke that had just appeared in the middle of the group. They all were reaching for their guns but before any of them could fire off rounds there were more bangs and the smoke cloud grew bigger. It completely enveloped the men in Tommy's view. His eyes scanned left and right rapidly in panic. He heard a rustle above him followed by something heavy hitting the floor within the smoke. Tommy leaned forward, straining to see or hear anything.
A sound like a boxing glove hitting a punching bag echoed off against the walls, followed by a faint grunt and the sound of a body hitting the floor.
Tommy leaned back in his chair and started to shake in fear as a figure emerged from the smoke. He was 6 feet tall and canine; a border collie with black and white fur markings in a knee-length black coat and black tights. A holster was belted to one thigh; the chrome of a gun's handle seemed to sparkle in the light, his other thigh had a buttoned pouch buckled to it. Beneath the jacket he was wearing a tight black shirt. A belt adorned with buttoned pockets lined his waist. He wore a mask over his eyes and had a strange apparatus attached to it that led over the bridge of his muzzle and covered his nose with a mesh fiber. A black bandanna kept his hair in check, his ears poking through holes in the fabric. He looked old, his muzzle was greying and a few strands of black hair with grey ends spilled out from under his bandana.
The figure was catching his breath as he slowly walked towards Tommy. The pup flinched away in fear, but as he got a better look at the figure his jaw just dropped.
"You-you're," Tommy stuttered.
"The Unlucky Gun," the hero said with a smile, "at least that's what the reporters call me."
The Unlucky Gun knelt over Tommy and pulled out a knife from inside his jacket, he cut the rope holding the pup. The hero then knelt at eye level with Tommy as the pup sat. He placed a mask over the pup's muzzle that covered his nose.
"This will help you breathe through the gas," The Unlucky Gun said. "Can you walk?"
Tommy shook his head and started to cry, tears of sadness and joy welled up and spilled down over his cheeks and muzzle.
"The knock-out gas they used on you must have a paralytic agent," said The Unlucky Gun as he reached for Tommy and stroked the pup's hair softly, "just relax, Tommy. It should wear-"
There was a bright flash behind Unlucky Gun followed by a bang. The hero gasped, cried out, and lurched forward, collapsing against Tommy. The young pup yelped loudly as he was crushed a bit under The Unlucky Gun's weight.
The smoke had dissipated. The four men and Officer MacKenzie were all collapsed on the floor. Tommy saw the old man leaning on his cane heavily and there was a stream of smoke coming from the muzzle of his gun. The old dog was grinning as he started to hobble towards them.
"I must really be losing it in my old age," said the Corgi, "I was aiming for your head, but it looks like I only grazed your thigh."
The Unlucky Gun lifted himself from Tommy and turned. He sat at the pup's feet, clutching his own thigh. There was a trickle of blood between his paws.
"You know, once an old man starts talking and knows he has a captive audience, he can be very hard to shut up" the Corgi said. "You must be wondering why I'm not collapsed in a pile like the rest of my goons."
"Aside from the wound on my thigh, it's the only thing on my mind," The Unlucky Gun replied, grunting in pain.
"I had heard you retired, Gun," the old man said, snickering. "I thought I could own these streets once more. I had learned valuable lessons from our past encounters. I figured out how to counteract your knockout gas and started inoculating myself with an immunity agent. I also made my own version of your gas, something with a little extra kick to make my victims stay in place even after the gas had dissipated.
"And now, I'll be even more infamous by killing the pain-in-my-side 'Unlucky Gun.' You should have stayed hidden and retired."
Tommy could see The Unlucky Gun's paw groping under his coat for something at the small of his back. His left paw shot out from under his coat as something silver flew from his paw and knocked the gun free from the old man's grasp, sending it skittering along the floor in the shadows.
The Unlucky Gun was up on his feet and running with a limp towards the old man. In the hero's right paw was a set of chrome-colored metal knuckles. He threw his fist towards the old man's face but only grazed the corgi's cheek. The villain yelped in pain but swung his cane around towards the hero. The Unlucky Gun yelped and whined as the edge of the cane made contact with his face. He covered his eyes with a paw. His mask had been peeled away by the old man's cane.
"You're pretty spry for an old dog, Jack Calloway," The Unlucky Gun said. "You never knew when to shut up either."
The old man laughed and said, "Aw, you remember me after all these years. I'm really touched. Now die!"
Calloway growled and pulled the head off from his cane, revealing a long knife that seemed to shine under the bright overhead light. He thrust like a fencer towards the hero.
The Unlucky Gun's left forearm deflected Calloway's wrist. Before Calloway could react, the hero's right fist upper-cut the villain, lifting him a few feet off the ground with the strength from the blow. Calloway yelped as he landed on his back, his head had snapped back and hit the floor hard.
The hero limped towards Tommy. He took the pup up in his arms and started to hobble towards the big door of the barn. Another shot fired from behind them, leaving a small crater in the wooden floor to their right. The Unlucky Gun turned in surprise and saw that Calloway had gotten up. The old dog was a bloody mess and had a look that just screamed 'crazy.' He rushed towards them with gun in paw, screaming.
The hero drew his gun and fired in one fluid motion. The bullet ricocheted off wood and metal in the barn but Calloway was still charging at them. There was a flash and sudden eruption of fire from behind Calloway. The bullet had hit a stack of gas barrels hidden in the back of the barn. The fire roared towards Calloway and he disappeared in the flame.
Tommy's view was blocked as The Unlucky Gun quickly turned away from the flames, knelt, and wrapped his coat around them. The pup could hear the flames roaring around them, but they were safe from the explosion. However, he could feel the sweltering heat from the fire outside. Unlucky Gun slowly crawled away from the flame, clutching Tommy in close as he kept the coat wrapped around them.
The coat was tossed away as The Unlucky Gun got up onto his feet and carried the young pup across a field adjacent to the now burning barn.
"It's a fire proof coat," The Unlucky Gun said, "but it still gets damned hot."
Tommy looked up at his hero, seeing that his mask was gone. He gasped as he recognized the hero holding him.
"Cecil?!" Tommy shouted in surprise.
Tommy's memory all came back at once. Once school was out he went to the park. There, he found his friend Daniel and Daniel's butler, Cecil. He was playing catch with Daniel in the park while Cecil kept a watchful eye on them while leaning against the side of Daniels' family luxury car.
Daniel had rich parents and was home schooled. Whenever he could, he would escape to the park for fresh air and to get his paws dirty. Tommy had often played with him in the park and they argued about whose favorite comic book hero would win a grudge match. Cecil would sometimes prepare sandwiches for them and he was always there to keep an eye on Daniel.
As they played in the park, a white van drove up onto the grass in and came to a stop near them. Cecil was only 20 feet away and rushed towards them shouting, but before he reached them a cloud of smoke from the van enveloped Tommy and Daniel. It choked at Tommy's lungs and caused him to collapse. Everything went black.
Cecil nodded, groaning a bit as he tried to walk further but fell onto his knees. He kept Tommy clutched tightly against his chest, a sad look spread across his muzzle as he gazed at the pup he held in his arms.
"I'm so sorry, Tommy" Cecil said. "I only had enough time to grab Daniel and run. I'm resistant to most knock-out gasses but what they used nearly had me out cold.
"After the police left, I looked everywhere for you and scoured the park for clues. I didn't find much and I feared the worst. Daniel was utterly distraught and hasn't said a word since he found out the attackers took you. Officially, Daniel is my charge but he considers you his closest friend. I wanted to protect you both, but I couldn't reach you."
Tears streamed down Tommy's cheeks. He hugged Cecil tight and buried his muzzle into the hero's chest. Cecil patted the pups head and gently brushed his hair with a paw, trying his best to reassure Tommy that everything would be alright now.
"I did something today that I swore I would never do again," said Cecil. "I donned my old costume and resumed my life as a vigilante. The costume is a bit tighter than I remember. It has been 15 years since I last wore it. I had to find my old friends to help find you. Obsidian Lynx came to you in a dream and helped me locate you."
A police car pulled out onto the field before them with its lights flashing. Both doors opened. On the driver side was a short old ocelot with a bushy mustache in a police uniform. On the passenger side was a tall Lynx in her middle ages wearing a casual dress. As she looked at them a smile spread across her muzzle.
"Hello Gun" said the Lynx.
"Hello Barbra, Officer MacGinnis" said Cecil.
"I see you're up to your old tricks of causing property damage" Officer MacGinnis said.
"I can't help that my gun never hits its intended target, Officer" Cecil said. "I was aiming for Calloways chest."
The Officer walked forward and admired the flames in the distance, he scratched at his head. Barbra took Tommy and sat him on the back seat of the police car.
The pup was relieved. He could wiggle his big toe and the feeling in his legs began to come back slowly. After a few minutes he was able to move his legs again. He started to walk around the police car with a limp.
Barbra turned her attention to Cecil's leg. She wrapped a bandage around his thigh and helped him up on to his feet. He leaned against Barbra, wrapping his arm over the Lynx's' shoulder. She led him over towards the back seat of the police car.
"Does this mean you're coming out of retirement?" MacGinnis asked.
Cecil thought about this and saw Tommy's gaze looking towards him inquisitively.
"Nah," said Cecil, "I'm too old for this shit."