Lightwards turned a slow circle as he took in the museum and weighed his options. Clearly a group of Epics had taken up residence here. Not just Epics--insane Epics that existed in a state of permanent self-satisfaction. There was no mistaking the attitude inherent in the banner's handwriting. The strange decorations, the stolen displays, and the name "Portland Museum of Natural Awesomeness" bespoke a group of Epics that were not only confident in their ability to take on any challengers, but actually seemed to be looking forward to it. The banner and the stolen displays were their equivalent of a chimpanzee showing its fangs.
He spun in a panic as the first gunshots rang out. Frank Regway had his rifle pointed into the air, firing off several shots. Or more accurately, he had his rifle pointed at the head of a massive pliosaur skeleton hung from the ceiling. There was a burly man with an assault rifle comfortably perched on the marine reptile's skull as he let fly a rapid succession of bullets.
Lightwards ducked behind the stuffed elephant's leg with barely a second to lose. The sound of a large-caliber bullet whizzing by his head rang in his ears as he dived for cover. His feet slipped as his legs moved with such speed, and he found himself sliding across the tiled floor as if it were ice. Before he could slow down, he collided face-first with one of the mounted elephant's back legs.
He opened his eyes as quickly as he could, fighting a headache that threatened to make him pass out. Frank Regway and Tartarus were lying dead on the ground, gaping round bullet holes between their eyes. A little distance away, one of the older Ronson-Clarkes had been killed with a similarly improbable shot.
The bullets shouldn't have hit so precise from way up there on the pliosaur skeleton, Lightwards thought in confusion. A grim realization suddenly hit him: "Mr. Headshot."
From atop the marine reptile skeleton, Headshot let fly several other shots, quickly bringing down each and every one of the Warriors of Light, who had each slipped onto their backsides as the floor became slick. Simon Regway's pistol hit the ground and started zipping across the floor, colliding with walls and ricocheting in all directions like a billiard ball.
Mr. Quickslide, Lightwards thought with rising panic. Two Epics against one. This was completely unfair. Lightwards had trouble even in one-on-one confrontations with others of his kind.
Frank the zombie's rifle had slid across the floor until it hit one of the elephant's other legs. Lightwards frantically grabbed at it, but one of Headshot's bullets deflected the weapon to the far side of the room.
I'm going to die, he realized. Again.
A man wearing a Batman T-shirt and blue jeans began to walk across the museum floor, his boots remaining solid in their steps despite the apparent lack of friction. He peered around the stuffed elephant and smirked as he saw Lightwards struggling to right himself.
"I hope you enjoyed your visit," Quickslide informed the professor, who was now clutching at wrinkled elephant skin in an effort to remain upright.
Lightwards faced the man with all the dignity he could muster--which was not much, with his legs crossed and his hands clutching at a dead elephant for support. "My name is Lightwards," he shot at the man angrily. "The dead you have here are mine. I claim them as my own. I will do as I please with them, and I'm not going to let your ridiculous little group stand in my way."
Quickslide raised an eyebrow, leveling a very large Magnum pistol at the necromancer's face. "I hope you'll pardon the expression, sir, but you don't really have a leg to stand on when making any threats."
Fingers squeezed the dry, leather elephant skin tightly. Lightwards smiled as he pointedly didn't think through his next action. Instead, he closed his eyes and surged his miracle into the dead leg.
There was a crash as metal framework and stuffing inside the elephant were forcibly ejected through the frictionless room. Knives dropped out of its thick hide, falling to the slick floor with a clatter. The tremendous bulk of the animal's body shook itself, and newly regrown muscles spread ripples throughout the spraypainted target sign. The magnificent African elephant, its newly revitalized body standing over the two Epics, took a few dazed steps as its large eyes blinked in confusion. A pair of shouts reached its enormous ears, one a cry of alarm and shock and the other a triumphant command of "Kill him!"
The elephant's thick trunk wrapped around the thin Epic's waist, raising him into the air. Quickslide fired a few wild shots into the animal, but the bullets were too small to do any real damage. He let out a furious scream as the animal pitched him across the room, causing him to collide with a wall and slide back down with a muffled thud.
Lightwards let out a loud laugh, abruptly cut of as the elephant took a few hesitant steps. Quickslide was evidently still alive, as the floor was still as slick as ice. The elephant's legs slid and scratched at the floor, its back legs kicking backwards as it tried to keep its footing.
The kicking back legs caught Lightwards in the chest. The wind was knocked out of him as he flew backwards, the frictionless floor unable to stop him. He glided across the tiled ground, bursting through doors and into the gift shop.
Lights danced before his eyes before the whole world faded into darkness. Lightwards drifted into unconsciousness, laying atop a pile of shattered snowglobes with a fractured rib throbbing in his torso.
