Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

296 :: JOHN R. MABRY
him, holding his arms, as another skinhead pummeled his
abdomen with his fists. Mikael cried out, as a third punk
swung a two-by-four at his head. Dylan heard it crack as it
connected, and watched in horror as the man behind Mikael
let go, and the skinny youth plummeted to the ground, hitting
his head as he did so.
Dylan tore at the fence, but it was no good. He jammed
his toes into the diamonds of the fence and clambered to get
up, but halfway up lost his footing and landed hard on his
knee. “SHeee-it!” he swore, holding his knee with both
hands. “Jaggy, don’t just fucking sit there, do something!!”
The Jaguar looked at him dispassionately for a long
moment, and then, almost leisurely, he swiped at the fence
with his claws, opening a wide swath in it. The portion of
the fence fell forward, and with all the eloquence of a queen,
the great cat stepped through and padded toward the thugs.
With one claw he swiped at the kid with the two-by-four,
and removed a large section of skin from his face. The youth
grabbed at his flayed cheek and, screaming, dropped to his
knees, writhing in agony. Sinking his teeth into the skinhead
who had held Mikael, Jaguar shook the young man like a rag
doll. Dylan could almost hear his bones rattle, and watched
in wonder as the great cat flung him into a heap several
yards away. The last kid seemed frozen in his tracks, when
Jaguar roared. Seeming to snap back to reality, he turned tail
and ran as fast as he could.
Dylan stepped through the fence and knelt beside Mikael.
The back of his head was bloody, but he seemed to be
breathing. Dylan looked up at Jaguar, who sat on his
haunches and licked his paws patiently. “Can you do anything
for him?”
The cat just looked at him.
Dylan cradled Mikael’s head in his lap, and pulled his wild
hair away from his face. “Hold on, there, Mikey-boy, you’re