We were told the Droods were no more, that the Hall and its grounds were no longer defended, and that there were rich pickings for everyone. Or at least for whoever got there first. So I rounded up the boys, fuelled up the rigs and put the hammer down all the way here.
How did you know where to find us? I said.
Drood Hall isn t on the map. Any map.
Chapman swallowed hard. Whatever it was that was hiding you, it s gone now, sir and miss, of course. We were given a sat nav that brought us straight to you. In fact, I think you can be pretty sure there are a lot more plunder-orientated organisations already on their way here, eager to get their hot little hands on Drood riches. We just got here first because we re more professional than most. We are, after all, the best in the business. The old firm, picking up unconsidered trifles and selling them for big profits, for centuries. We re a family business, just like you!
No, I said. You re nothing like us.
Road Rats, said Molly. Never met a disaster you didn t like so you could take advantage of it.
You got here first, so you ll make a fine example to all those who come after you, I said cheerfully to Chapman. A thought struck me. You said you were informed that the Hall had been burnt down. Who informed you?
We keep our electronic ears to the ground, sir. And miss, of course. We monitor all the unusual frequencies for occasions such as this.
So you can kick people while they re down and take what little they have left? said Molly.
Best time, said Chapman, regaining some of his confidence. A chance to loot a place like Drood Hall only comes along once in a generation. If then. The minute we got the word, from a very important gentleman, we were off and running. In fact, he went so far as to say we d be doing him a favour if we were to strip the place clean from top to bottom. He guaranteed he d buy everything we brought him. No matter how unique or dangerous the item might be. He has connections everywhere, you see. Well! Couldn t turn down an opportunity like that. Could we, sir? And miss, of course. How could we say no?
You should have, I said. You really should have.
Yeah, said Molly. She cracked her knuckles, a sudden loud sound in the quiet, and Chapman actually jumped.
You re facing a Drood in his armour, I said. And the wild witch of the woods. Hell, you should be grateful we got to you before the scarecrows did. You have heard of the scarecrows yes, I thought you might have.
Bollocks to this! Chapman said abruptly. He turned and ran back past his truck, yelling to his people farther down the line. Sod this for a game of soldiers! Get them, boys! There s only two of them! A nice little bonus to whoever brings them down first! And get a bloody move on, before the scarecrows get here!
A whole bunch of large, muscular young men appeared out of the cabs of parked trucks and headed straight for us. Most of them hard, cold-eyed thugs, in grubby T-shirts and jeans, the better to show off their gym-sculpted torsos. They advanced steadily on Molly and me, carrying various nasty-looking weapons. Twenty, thirty, forty of them, looking tough and highly motivated. Anyone else would probably have been impressed. Chapman stopped at the far end of his truck and grinned unpleasantly back at me.
You re not the only one with a family business! You Droods aren t the only ones who can do the hard stuff, if it comes to it. We re the Road Rats!
Thought you were Plunder, Incorporated, said Molly.
That s just for appearances! When there s dirty work to be done we re still the Road Rats, and no one does it better than us! Right, boys? We don t take no shit from no one. We do the taking! Boys, peel that arrogant tosser out of his gold shell and pound him into the ground! Whoever takes him down first gets first go at the girl!
Optimistic little soul, isn t he? I murmured to Molly.
And obnoxious about it, said Molly. Girl? Girl? I ll give him girl I will make him wish he d never been born. In fact, I may even make a raggedy-edged hole in the side of his truck and use it to reenact his birth, only in reverse.
Poor bastards, I said. They haven t a clue what s about to hit them.
I have, said Molly. And I m going to really enjoy it.
Me, too! I said. But I want Chapman alive and intact and still able to answer questions at the end of it. He knows who s behind all this.
I looked the Road Rats over as they drew nearer. They looked surprisingly confident. They d clearly heard enough about Droods to know our reputation, but not enough to take it seriously. A lot of them were carrying energy weapons, both magical and superscientific, presumably looted from some previous site, and they were carrying them like they knew how to use them. Others had really big guns that looked entirely capable of firing a hell of a lot of bullets in a short time. Others had knives and swords and glowy cutting things. With anyone else that would probably have been enough.
I ran straight at them, gravel flying as I charged down the path at inhuman speed.
I swept past Chapman in a moment, before he could even give the order to open fire. By the time he did, I was right there in and among his boys. They all opened fire at once, hitting me with everything they had. The bullets just ricocheted harmlessly off my armour. (My old strange-matter armour would have absorbed the bullets; less danger of any damage to innocent bystanders. Not that there were any of those here, of course.) The energy guns opened up, bathing me in a whole series of vicious and otherworldly destructive forces, and not one of them could touch me inside my armour. They glanced harmlessly off or detonated in the air around me. The knives and swords and glowy cutting things broke and shattered against me.
I slammed into the midst of the Road Rats, slapping the energy weapons out of their hands, crushing their guns in my golden hands and lashing out at everyone within reach. I punched in faces, cracked heads and sent hard young thugs staggering backwards, desperately gasping for breath, because I d caught them with a crafty back elbow under the sternum. I knocked them down and trampled them underfoot, and it felt good, so good. To be striking down my enemies.
A lot of them just turned and ran rather than face me.
Others produced new, heavy-duty magical weapons. One thrust a Hand of Glory at me, only to cry out as the Hand s malign influence was reflected straight back at him and all the fingers rotted and fell off. Another of them had an aboriginal pointing bone. He pointed it at me and the bone exploded, filling his hand with sharp bony shrapnel. One of them even had an elven wand, but when he pointed it hopefully in my direction, the wand took one look at my armour and faded quietly away, disappearing out of the Road Rat s hand rather than get involved.
Lesser weapons took their turn and destructive forces and energies blazed and howled around me, none of them able to touch me.
I kept moving, pressing forward, throwing nasty young thugs this way and that, breaking bones and smashing heads, raining savage blows on my enemies and loving every moment of it. I could hear bones breaking, see blood flying, and the screams of horror and suffering brought joy to my heart and a smile to my lips behind my featureless golden mask. They were no match for me, and they knew it. The drive was packed with horrified young thugs running for the gates. I took my time with those who didn t, doing a good and thorough job on them. It felt so good to have an enemy I could get my hands on at last. They might not be the ones responsible for the destruction of the Hall and the loss of my family, but they were there. They d do.
In the end, I just ran out of people to hit. I stood alone in the middle of the drive, surrounded by the wounded and the unconscious. Blood dripped thickly from my heavy golden gauntlets. Molly was standing to one side, looking at me. It had all happened so quickly, she hadn t had a chance to get involved. I didn t recognise the expression on her face, but I didn t like it. I looked round sharply at the sudden roaring of an engine behind me. Chapman had fired up one of the trucks farther down the line. He pulled it out of the queue, revved the engine and drove the truck straight at me.
I stood where I was, to give him a sporting chance. The oversized rig loomed up before me, growing larger and larger, as he gunned the accelerator for all it was worth. I could see Chapman s pale, determined face glaring at me through the windshield. At the last moment I turned and showed him my golden shoulder. The truck smashed right into me. The grillwork collapsed under my shoulder. I d dug my heels into the gravel, but even so the sheer impact pushed me backwards, my heels leaving deep furrows in the ground. I didn t feel a thing inside the armour. The truck skidded to a halt despite itself, the engine still roaring, until I drove a golden fist right through the collapsed grillwork and smashed the engine.
