Free A Children's Tale by C B Ash Page A

lightning cracked against the broken timbers, then ground where the men had stood. Wood soaked from the salt water, then dried instantly with a blackened burn mark left behind. Electricity grounded itself all around in the nearest objects from rocks, stones and people. Two of the Yeti were thrown ten feet from where they stood. Utawah jerked from only a touch of the blast, Hunter was lifted into the air and slammed down against the stones in a fit of electrical induced convulsions.
    Hunter sat up slowly. His entire body shook violently from suffering his portion of the electrical blast. Blackened skin and a line of reddish-veined burn streaks ran down his right arm where the sleeve had burned away from the attack. Pain shot through nerves and his head ached with the residual effect of the small, but powerful, jolt of lightning. The captain took a long, slow, ragged breath in an attempt to regain control over his own body. Utawah - who had fared slightly better as he had been knocked out of path of the attack - slowly got to his feet. The elder shook his head to clear the cobwebs from them before he looked over to Hunter. 
    "Are you well?"
    His shakes subsiding, Hunter looked at the burnt and tattered glove that had covered his clockwork right hand. Bits of static still jumped between the fingers while he experimentally flexed it. Gears turned, miniature pistons flexed while his fingers moved a bit sluggishly. They had a willingness to adhere magnetically to each other. He took another slow experimental breath while his heart pounded hard in his chest, then winced while he looked at the unusual burn marks along his right arm.
    "A few hard burns and a magnetized hand. Well, its not as if I fell from the back of a lightning drake at twenty feet off the ground." Convinced he and his hand were still none the worse for wear, he looked around, then up at the retreating steambat. "A dagger won't do. We'll need range."
    Utawah offered a hand-up to the captain and shouted a command in his own language. Quickly a young Yeti warrior, perhaps no older than his late teens, raced off towards a smaller building that was no larger than perhaps a tool shed. Moments later the boy returned with a bundle. It was nearly as long as the young warrior, with bits of wood exposed at one end and wrapped entirely in a handwoven, woolen blanket. He dropped it on the ground and unwrapped it. Inside were several unstrung bows, quivers full of arrows and some leather bags beneath.
    The elder chieftain knelt and lifted a bow and quiver of arrows. "This, if they are close enough. They have learned to stay away from our arrows ... mostly. Sometimes we find a way to reach them. That is rare now." 
    "Then we'll find a way to bring them closer."
    Hunter had knelt to select his own bow when he saw a familiar tube of metal protruding from one of the small leather bags. Moving the bow aside, he opened the bag to find his gun belt and pistol inside. Alongside that lay Moira's pistols, O'Fallon's knives, and other weapons of the crew. Hunter freed his weapon and belt from the bag and automatically checked the pistol to see if it was still loaded. Another Yeti warrior approached. Hunter recognized the man from the bruise still visible on the man's face. It was the warrior he had fought in the woods. The captain tensed, however the Yeti merely looked at Hunter with a level, emotionless gaze and spoke a short comment in his own dialect. The captain looked to Utawah with a questioning look.
    "He wishes you a good hunt." The elder smiled and fastened the quiver around his waist. 
    Hunter looked back to the Yeti warrior and strapped on his gun belt. "You as well, sir. Give them the proper hell." He turned back to the chieftain, "What of my crew? They'll need to defend themselves and could lend a hand chasing off these bloody blaggarts as well."
    "It will be done." Utawah issued a rapid string of commands Hunter had no hope of following. The young Yeti nodded repeatedly,