Subject: D&D Cartoon On-Line Fan Club Newsletter #6, Part 2

Here is the fifth and final installment of Victoria Bishop?s Lambs Among
Wolves!

Lambs Among Wolves Part V
by Victoria Bishop

Standard Disclaimer: The kids aren't my creation, I'm just being mean to them
for a little while. They belong to Marvel. Queen Sabra et al came from my
twisted little mind, though.

Rated: PG-13, although I'll put in a little extra warning for violence and one
not-so-nice word.

     Diana glared at the guard who had entered her cell, but got to her feet
just the same.  Sheila had been brought back to the cell only a few minutes
before and they'd barely had any time together. Lately it seemed that the
taskmasters were purposely staggering the breaks so that the friends had less
and less time together. Diana knew that they would have to do something soon;
before the guards split them up completely. Once that happened, she knew that
it was only a matter of time before they all turned into the zombie-like
slaves that inhabited the mines.
     Even the short time the two girls had together was bracing. They told one
another
everything they had seen and heard in the mines on their separate shifts as
quickly as possible, often over-running the other's words, but always
understanding everything. That out of the way, the remaining time was spent
trying to think of a way out and reassuring each other that everyone was okay
so far.
     The latter was getting more and more difficult with each passing day.
     Diana breezed past the guard and walked up to the vats as though she were
out for a stroll and that's where she intended to go all along. She found
ignoring the taskmasters infuriated them, but that they wouldn't punish her
for it as long as she followed their orders. All they did was make rude
remarks that Diana let go in one ear and out the other. So she never
acknowledged their presence, acting as though everything she did was her own
idea. It wasn't up to her usual standard of defiance, but it was a lot safer
that the mouthy girl's route.
     And at least it was _something_.

     Eric felt ridiculous crawling along the floor with Uni crouched
underneath him, but as he considered the option, ridiculous didn't seem so
bad. He spotted a safe-looking niche, and started moving in that direction.
After looking up and down the hallway to make sure they couldn't be seen, he
pulled back the hood of Sheila's cloak. Propping one shoulder against the wall
for support, he scratched Uni's ears appreciatively. "Uni, I swear I'll never
call you a dumb unicorn again."
     Uni snorted several times, obviously expressing doubt.
     "Yeah, you're right," Eric managed a smile. "But that's twice I would
have been a goner without you. I don't know, what does it mean when a baby
unicorn thinks faster than I do?"
     Uni made a noise sounding remarkably close to laughter and pressed her
nose to Eric's cheek.
     Eric kept petting her, using the few minutes of respite to catch his
breath and muster all the strength he could. It was a strange feeling to still
be alive, because when the guards had walked into the room, he had been
certain that his head would be the next one on the wall. He had to abandon the
weapons and stumble towards a table that made a poor hiding place but was the
only thing available. He had felt something light and soft settle over his
mutilated back, but hadn't realized what it was until Uni had tugged the hood
over his head. Sheila's cloak, rendering him invisible. Uni had crawled
underneath him so she could be hidden as well, and they had slowly
crept through the door undetected.
     So, for the moment they were safe. He hadn't managed to get all the
weapons as he had hoped, but he had his shield and was still clutching Hank's
bow. Thanks to Uni, he also had Sheila's cloak.
     "Well, I'm not going to go crawling this castle looking for the others,"
he whispered to Uni. At her questioning look, he went on, "I'm _walking_, it's
just going to take me a few minutes to get up."
     Uni nuzzled him again for encouragement.
     Aided by that and pure adrenaline, Eric managed to stand, using the wall
for balance. He picked Uni up with his shield arm and wrapped the cloak around
both of them, holding the bow tightly in his free hand. He saw the guards
coming out of the "trophy room" and heard them talking about slaves and mines.
Seeing no other option at the moment, Eric decided to follow them as they
strode down the winding corridors.
     It was slow going, but Eric managed to keep the guards in sight as the
kept going down several flights of stairs. When they reached some tunnels,
Eric decided they must be right in the middle of the mountain that the palace
was built on, and wondered whether he could get Bobby in here with his club
and bring the whole thing crashing down. 'The psycho would never know what hit
her.' He was enjoying the idea so much that he didn't realize where they
actually were until the overpowering smell of the mines flooded his senses. He
gagged on the powerful sulfuric odor, and had to crouch near a rock pile in
order to rest. Uni struggled in his grip and he put her down, "Be careful, you
aren't invisible if I'm not holding you," he warned, looking around at the
mines.
     To say the least, they were overwhelming. Thousands of wretched looking
slaves were working and being ordered around or punished by giant violet-
skinned guards. 'Oh great, how am I supposed to find the others here? If they
even _are_ here.'
     Uni had her nose it the air and her ears were pricked forward. After
standing completely still for several minutes, she walked back to Eric,
nudging him again.
     "What? Are you a bloodhound all of a sudden?" he asked sarcastically.
     Uni lowered her head, pointing her horn towards one of the dungeons.
     "Are you sure?"
     "Byeah."
     Eric picked her up again and activated the cloak. 'I wonder what Queen
Witch would say if she knew I was taking my orders from a _unicorn_ now.'

     Presto hefted the last of the available rocks into the wagon and stepped
out of the way so another slave could start hauling it away. He spared a quick
look around before going back to work and saw that Hank was once again being
led to the cliffs and wondered if Bobby was still in the cell. 'I hope so. He
needs rest more than any of us. It seems like they work the smallest children
the hardest.'
     That thought sent an unaccustomed wave of anger through him.  'That's so
wrong. This whole thing is wrong,' Presto corrected as he lifted his pick
again.  'But that's the worst thing. It's so unfair!' He took out his
frustrations on the boulder in front of him, his efforts much more successful
with this added vigor. 'Rotten queen. And where is Lord Eric, anyway?'

     Sheila sighed as the door swung shut behind Diana, wishing her friend
could have stayed a bit longer. Instead, she was left alone with her thoughts.
Being alone was bad enough, but without Diana there, all she had to occupy her
were worries. She looked around the cell, heaved a great sigh and she leaned
back against the wall. She caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her
eye, turned her head and just about jumped out of her skin. "Eric!" she
exclaimed in a whisper, having the presence of mind to keep her voice down.
     "I snuck in when they were taking Diana out," Eric said, releasing Uni.
     The small unicorn immediately rushed to Sheila's side for a cuddle--which
she got. "Where have you..? My cloak--how..? When..?" Sheila's run of
questions trailed off when she saw how Eric was slumped against the wall, a
pained expression on his face.   "Are you okay?"
     "No," Eric sighed. "What about you?"
     "As well as can be expected, I guess. Wh--Hank's bow? And your shield?"
     "I couldn't get the rest."
     "How did you find them?"
     "Uni teleported me to them. Is everyone else here?"
     "Yeah, but--"
     "Everyone okay?"
     "As far as we can tell. I only get to talk to Diana." Sheila moved closer
to him. "Eric, what happened to you? You look awful."
     "So do you," Eric retorted.
     Sheila rolled her eyes at his tone. "Have you been here in the mines?
Diana never saw you."
     "No, I wasn't here. The Queen cooked up something special for me."
     Sheila knew that was not a good thing. "What, Eric?"
     "Just a--ah, nevermind?"
     "Where's the rest of your armor?" Sheila asked, unfastening her cloak and
taking it from him.
     Eric hissed and the material slid across his back. "Easy..."
     "What happened to you, Eric?" Sheila demanded.
     "Whipping," Eric replied in a low voice.
     "What?!" Sheila gasped. "Where? Your back?" She caught his shoulder when
he tried to keep his back out of her sight.
     "It's probably pretty gross, Sheila. I don't think you want to look at
it."
     "I know I don't, but I'm going to anyway." She took his other shoulder
and turned around. She couldn't see the full extent of the damage in the dim
light, but what she could see was horrifying. "Oh, Eric..." she breathed.
     Tears burned Eric's eyes at the sympathy in her soft voice. When they
were facing one another again, Eric saw Sheila had tears in her eyes as well.
"I told you it was gross."
     "But you did it," Sheila said quietly. "You managed to get here. And now
we just might have a chance of getting out."
     Eric shook his head. "I can't make it back to our weapons."
     "_I_ can," Sheila replied, straightening. She put her cloak back on his
shoulders. "Get ready to cover up in case the door opens. You don't want the
guard to see you here."
     Eric seconded that with all his heart. "How are you going to do it?"
     Sheila was quiet for a few minutes, then nodded firmly. "Okay, listen..."

     Diana looked up when she heard shouting from several guards. It wasn't
directed at her, but the words caught her undivided attention. One of the
slaves was missing. Judging from all the commotion surrounding the escape, it
was something that rarely happened. Diana smiled to herself, wishing all the
luck in the world to the hardy soul that had managed it. She turned her
attention back to her task until she heard the "fire-haired maid" mentioned.
'That's what they call Sheila!'
     Most of the guards weren't paying much attention to her, so she stepped
away from her cauldron to get a better view of the situation. Sure enough, the
biggest concentration of guards was centered around the metal-working table,
and Sheila's unmistakably red hair was nowhere to be seen. 'Of course, she
might still be in the cell', Diana told herself. 'But I hope not.  Sheila, if
it's you...oh man, just run, girl, run.'
     Despite her fervent prayer on her friend's behalf, Diana knew that Sheila
wouldn't leave without attempting to rescue the rest of them, although Diana
couldn't imagine anyway she could pull it off. 'Okay, Sheila, so try it once.
But if you're going to get caught, just go. Please just go.  No use all of us
being here forever.'
     Her taskmaster barked an order at her and Diana reluctantly returned to
her stirring.

     No words were exchanged while the transfer took place. Neither of them
wanted to risk alerting the guards. As it was, Sheila was reluctant to leave
Eric in the mines without her cloak to hide him, but they really had no other
choice. She picked up Uni and enveloped them both in her cloak, pausing only
to lay a reassuring hand on Eric's shoulder. Then she made her way out of the
mines.
     As she went, she kicked dust on the line Eric had drawn in the dirt with
the end of Hank's bow. The line had led her to his hiding place among the
deserted caverns, and she was taking no chances that it might do the same for
one of the guards.

     Hank glanced down at the commotion below them. From the looks of things,
something had happened among the slaves in the area Sheila had worked. He
hoped that she wasn't in some sort of trouble. "I wonder what's going on down
there," he commented to his co-worker.
     A disgusted sigh was his only answer, and Hank continued with his
pointless digging. A few minutes later, some fairly colourful cursing from the
girl made him look up, at first in amusement, then in worry when he saw a
guard stepping off the scaffold. "What?" the girl demanded in a belligerent
tone.
     "Go on with you work," the guard ordered, folding his massive arms across
his chest.
     "Why are you staying here?" she went on. "Go on back down and do whatever
you morons do while the rest of us work."
     "Get on with your work, girl!" His tone was far more threatening.
     The girl finally deigned to speak to Hank, "You realize he's a guard only
because he's too stupid to do this kind of work," she said coldly, gesturing
the mindless task they were engaged in.
     The guard heard--he was intended to--and the whip lashed out in their
direction.
     The girl side-stepped easily and shot a withering look in his direction.
"Nice aim."
     The whip came again, this time streaking across the girl's shin. She
sucked in her breath and her glare turned murderous. When she opened her mouth
to say something else, Hank elbowed her sharply in the ribs. She turned to
look at him, more surprised and angry than hurt.
     "Talk about stupid," Hank hissed at her. "Are you trying to get yourself
killed?! You'll be lucky if he doesn't take your pick and to use that on you!"
     Several expressions flitted across her face, and after shooting another
look at the guard, she smiled and bent back to her task.

     'Eric didn't tell me about _this_!' Sheila thought as she surveyed the
room Uni had led directed her to. Her stomach twisted at the sight of the
various head-ornaments, and after the first glance, she kept her eyes averted,
heading straight for the jumble of weapons where Uni was waiting. She puzzled
over the whip and sword she saw. 'He didn't mention these, either.' There were
other swords and whips in the room, along with every other kind of weapon or
treasure, but these had definitely been placed with theirs.
     She debated taking them along. Carrying their weapons and Uni back to the
mines was going to be awkward enough, but the extra weapons would certainly
come in handy. A small bleat from the unicorn drew her attention. Uni had
found an open trunk, and Sheila immediately recognized the clothing inside.
She knelt beside the trunk, kissing Uni on the nose as she did so.  "Good
girl," she murmured, drawing out Eric's remaining armor, as well as Presto's
green robes.  A quick survey of the trunk indicated that all their clothes
were there, and she was relieved to see Eric's cloak. She couldn't use hers to
carry everything, and she never would have managed
otherwise. As a bonus, she could bring the extra weapons that had been left
with theirs.
     Briefly she considered changing into her rose-coloured tunic, but decided
it was an unnecessary waste of time. Quickly, she bundled everything into
Eric's cape and gathered Uni back into her arms. She ran back to the mines as
quickly as her burdens would allow.

     Hank had been surprised when the hellcat he was working with took his
advice and stopped baiting the taskmaster that stood with them on the cliffs.
She'd even deigned to talk to him in a low tone, and between the two of them,
they had surmised that the taskmaster was there because of the commotion
below, guarding them lest the attempt to take advantage of the confusion. How
they could do that while stranded up on the cliffs was beyond Hank, but he
supposed if anyone attempted it, it would be his defiant co-worker. For, a
while, however, she had seemed content to work in relative silence.
     Hank should have known it was to good to last.
     She started muttering about the taskmaster's shortcomings, and in a short
space of time, those mutters had become louder and louder. At first, the
taskmaster ignored her, but soon her insults became too blatant and rude to
ignore. A warning shot from the whip cracked in their direction, but that only
brought more disparaging comments about his aim. A few more attacks made her
dodge, but she didn't stop. Instead, began insulting his manhood. Enraged, the
taskmaster came towards them, intending to do even more damage with his whip
at close range.
     Although Hank thought that his co-worker acting suicidal, he wasn't about
to stand back and watch her be killed. When the taskmaster raised his arm to
strike again, Hank was close enough to block him with his shovel. Enraged, the
man turned on him, but his expression of anger turned to one of shock when the
girl's pickax was suddenly imbedded in his stomach.
     Hank looked at her in horror, but she wasn't paying any attention. She
withdrew her pick, grimacing in disgust at the thick greenish-black liquid
that spouted from the gaping wound.
     Hank's stomach rebelled at the sight. With another thrust from the pick,
she shoved the guard off the cliffs, then ran for the scaffold. "Are you
coming, or what?" she demanded.
     Shocked though he was by her actions, there was nothing wrong with Hank's
instincts. He was instantly beside her on the scaffold, intending to take
every advantage of this unexpected chance for escape.

     Sheila was surprised to see the chaos that had settled over the mines
since she had left, but soon decided it would work to her advantage. Without
hesitating another instant, she slipped into the center of the fray, trying to
recollect the locations of various work areas Diana had told her about.

     Bobby had to squint as he emerged from a tunnel into the relative
brightness of the mines.  He tugged his large load of rocks over to another
slave who was waiting with a wagon. A taskmaster gestured, although it wasn't
really necessary, Bobby had already turned around and was head back down into
the chilling, damp darkness. He had just about re-entered the tunnel when a
hand clamped over his mouth and he was pulled backwards. He felt cloth
swirling around him and began to struggle.
     "Shush, Bobby," came a soft voice that made him still immediately.
     Bobby's knees nearly gave way, but he didn't make a sound he was pulled
backwards away from the mines and towards a jumble of rocks.
     "Okay," she released him.
     Bobby turned immediately, and although he couldn't see her, he managed to
throw his arms around her neck and bury his face in her shoulder.
"Sheila...Sheila...Sheila..." was all he could manage.
     "Ssshhh...it's all right, Bobby," Sheila soothed, longing to stay and
comfort him. "I have to find the others."
     Bobby nodded and loosened his grip slightly. Sheila still hadn't removed
her cowl, but he felt her press something into his hand. After a moment he
recognized the rough wood of his club.
     "How..?"
     "I'll explain later," she promised. "Do you think you can create a few
more distractions while I get to the others?"
     Slowly, a smile spread across Bobby's face. "They'll never know what hit
?em, sis."
     She smoothed his hair. "I saw a way out not far from here. Stay as close
to it as you can."
     "I know where it is. Hank and Presto were talking about it." Enthusiasm
was beginning to light his eyes again.
     "I'll get the others. Get yourself out as soon as you can, Bobby. We'll
meet you."
     "I should--"
     "Uni's out there already. Look after her," Sheila knew that was the only
way to keep him from jumping into the fray.
     "Okay," he promised. He felt a soft kiss on his forehead, then heard the
faintest rustle of cloth and knew Sheila was gone. He didn't feel alone,
however, he felt more alive than he had felt in some time, and decided to make
that known to his taskmasters.

     Diana scowled at her taskmaster, wishing he would leave his post as some
of the others had. Some time after the scuffle in the metal-working area, she
heard shouts that someone had fallen off the cliffs. Her heart had stopped and
didn't start pumping again until she realized that it was a taskmaster, and
not Hank that had toppled to his death. She kept her ears open and managed to
discern that the two slaves who had been atop the cliffs were gone.
     Diana hoped that the taskmasters would be forced to neglect their regular
duties because of this, but instead another army of the violet-skinned
behemoths had entered the mind to do the searching. 'That's two of us,' Diana
told herself, finally feeling some hope. 'Maybe there's a--what was that?'
     She spun around and stared at her taskmaster, but he hadn't moved.
Glancing around briefly she went back to her stirring. She felt a light touch
on her arm and jumped. 'What in the world..?'
     "Diana."
     It was a faint whisper, not meant for anyone's ears but her own. Diana
stared intently at her cauldron, although she took one hand off the paddle.
     That hand was gripped in slim fingers, and a slender piece of wood was
placed in it. "I think this will work better, don't you?"
     Diana gripped her javelin, and one corner of her mouth quirked up in a
smile.
     "The way out is by the mines. I already sent Bobby. Get there as fast as
you can."
     Diana gave a small nod.
     "Good luck."
     With that, Diana felt Sheila brush past her. Dropping her paddle into the
molten metal, she turned to face her taskmaster. "Hey, ugly. It's show time!"

     Presto exchanged puzzled looks with the other slaves at the increase in
shouting around them. It sounded like someone was giving the taskmasters more
trouble than expected. Silently, Presto applauded whoever it was and hoped
they weren't killed for their defiance. Something was definitely up, because
the number of guards around them had doubled. The magician concentrated on his
task, not giving any of them a reason to unfurl a whip in his direction.
     He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up with a sense of
foreboding, he frowned when he saw nothing. The pressure increased slightly,
and suddenly his hat was in front of him, hidden from the view of the guards
by his body and apparently floating in mid-air.
     "Bobby said you know about the way out by the tunnels," a familiar voice
whispered in his ear.
     Presto felt a rush of joy go through him and he gripped his hat as though
it would
disappear as oddly as it had appeared.
     He felt his shoulder being squeezed gently. "Throw up a smoke-screen and
get there as soon as you can." Then the sensation was gone.
     Presto's pick fell to the ground unheeded and he set about following the
instructions as fast as he could.

     Hank stopped running as a loud explosion echoed through the mines.
Looking around, he realized it originated from the tunnels where Bobby was
working. 'Oh my god...no...' His throat closed over and his mind kicked into
overdrive, and all he could think to do was get to Bobby as fast as he could.
     He'd barely started in that direction before he collided with someone. He
blinked in
amazement as Sheila materialized before him. Complete chaos had erupted around
them, and for the moment they were hidden from the midst of it. Just to be
safe, though, he took her arm and pulled her towards a wall of rock. "How did
you get out?" he asked.
     "Eric," she replied. "He managed to--"
     "Hey! Those are ours!" The girl who had taken the pickax to the guard was
staring at the two remaining weapons sticking out of Sheila's bundle.
     "Really? How did you--" Before Sheila could finish, the girl had grasped
both the sword and the whip.
     "Thanks," she called over her shoulder, disappearing into the fray and
doing severe
damage as she went.
     Neither Hank nor Sheila spared her another glance. "I guess this is our
chance," Hank said.
     "We've got to find the others."
     "Already found them," the words tumbled from her. "I told them to go to
the escape you saw. We have to get Eric. He's got your bow. He got me out."
     "Where is he?"
     "Hiding," Sheila bit her lip. "He's hurt really bad."
     "How bad?"
     "_Really_ bad."
     Hank paled. "Then let's get him and get out of here."
     Sheila took his hand and began leading him to Eric's hiding place,
praying that they weren't significant enough for the guards to pay attention
to.

     The angry shouting finally penetrated Eric's pain-dazed thoughts and he
cautiously looked out from his hiding place. He smiled when he saw the near
riot in the mines, then frowned when he realized the guards were quickly
herding the majority of the slaves back to the cells. Only a handful of them
were resisting. It wouldn't be long before order was restored, and as the
order increased, their chances of escape were diminishing. Eric swallowed hard
and tried to convince himself that his friends would definitely be among those
who were still free.
     'Sheila will be, anyway. No one can see her. Maybe she'll get another
shot if this one doesn't work.' Eric shifted anxiously and moaned at the pain
the movement brought. He rested his head briefly against a boulder and closed
his eyes. Moments later, his eyes flew open again as he heard footsteps coming
unerringly towards his hiding place. 'Oh no. Please let it be Sheila. Please,
please, please...' He opened his eyes again, and although he didn't see Sheila
at first, the sight that met him was just as welcome.
     "I hear you have something that belongs to me," Hank smiled.
     Eric forced a smile in return and handed Hank his bow.
     "Thanks, pal. Now what do you say we blow this joint? I think the cops
are onto us."
     Eric could hear regret in Hank's voice and knew what it meant. As much as
the Ranger would like to retaliate, even their magical weapons wouldn't assure
victory against such overwhelming odds.
     "Ready when you are," he managed.
     Hank grasped Eric's arm to help him to his feet, and got his first look
at the Cavalier's injuries.
     Eric glanced up to see why Hank had suddenly gone rigid and saw the
revulsion in his eyes.
     "Bastards," Hank hissed through clenched teeth.
     "No argument there," Eric replied. He managed to get his feet beneath
him, supported by both Hank and Sheila. Warily, the trio crept towards
freedom.

     "Oh my god, they found the hole!" Hank gasped.
     Eric tried to focus on what he was saying, but it was all he could do to
get his feet to move. Whatever adrenaline that had gotten him down to the
mines had fled, leaving him with all the strength of overcooked spaghetti.
     "What do we do?" Sheila asked. "Eric's in no shape for a fight."
     "They haven't blocked it yet. Come on," Hank was half-carrying, half-
dragging Eric in his attempt to reach their only escape. Nearly a dozen guards
were working on pushing boulders in front of the opening, and when they were a
few feet away, Hank turned to Sheila. "You'll have to hold him by yourself. I
need my bow."
     Sheila slung the bundle of clothes over her back and used both hands to
support
the barely-conscious youth. "I've got him."
     Hank let loose a barrage of arrows, aimed at the boulders as well as the
guards. The boulders that had been placed crumbled and the guards fell back
under the onslaught, bellowing for assistance. "Go! GO!" Hank yelled, letting
Sheila get in front of him while he covered them from behind.
     All Hank could see was a mass of violet soldiers and taskmasters
advancing on them, and although he fired as fast as he could, he knew he
wouldn't be able to hold them all off. Suddenly, someone grabbed his arm and
yanked him off his feet, and all he could hear was a thunderous roar as the
ground trembled beneath him.
     When the noise and dust had finally settled, Hank risked a look around.
Diana was beside him, and Presto was crouched near Eric and Sheila. Bobby was
carefully making his way down the side of the mountain, from where he had
created the rock slide. Uni met him at the bottom, leaning against him
affectionately. Bobby stood still for several minutes, looked just as he
always did when he was triumphant, then his face crumbled and he raced for his
sister at top speed.
     Sheila turned from Eric just in time to catch her brother in a warm
embrace. "It's okay," she whispered, rubbing his back. "It's okay, we're out
now." Over her shoulder, Bobby saw Eric's mutilated back and let out a choking
sound.
     Hank helped Diana to her feet and together they walked towards the rest
of their friends.  Diana knelt at Eric's side. "Eric?"
     "We m-make...it out..?" Eric muttered.
     "Yeah, Eric, we're out," Diana assured him.
     "Rotten queen," Eric groaned.
     Thought she still kept one arm securely around Bobby, Sheila managed to
reach into the bundle to hand Presto his glasses. He slipped them on
immediately, then wished he hadn't. Eric's back was far easier to endure with
poor vision.
     Hank wanted nothing more than to collapse on the spot and suspected his
friends felt the same, but he knew they couldn't take that risk. "We've got to
keep going," he said. "We've got to get as far from here as we can, just in
case they start looking for us."
     Diana's eyes widened. "We can't move Eric."
     "We have to. Queen Sabra might be searching right now."
     "Then move Eric," Eric urged.
     Presto picked up the bundle Sheila had been carrying, while Hank and
Diana helped Eric to his feet. Bobby kept one arm around Sheila while the
other was around Uni's neck--he was gripping his club so tightly that his
knuckles were white.
     Hank glanced over his shoulder at them, and when Sheila nodded, he and
Diana urged Eric forward. Presto, Sheila and Bobby fell in behind them. Hank
sighed, 'Funny. I thought freedom would feel better than this.'

End.

Thanks to Rhonda and Amy for keeping me going on this monster and to Charles
for the encouraging feedback.

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