The Warriors

by Toby Kernan

"A bottle of the stiffest whiskey you got, and four clean glasses."

"I don't think so." said the bartender, and he wiped the dust from the glass in his hand, and placed it back upon the shelf. He was a very unpleasant-looking man, with only a few strands of hair left upon his round head and a long scar running down hid pudgy left cheek. The abundance of wrinkles and the worn look in his eyes were fare indicators that this man had not spent his life in any calm or easy fashion.

"This is a bar isn't it?"

The bartender gave the man a brief glance. Then he gave each of his three companions similar views.

"Yep," replied the bartender, "it sure is, the only one your probably gonna find this side of New Vegas these days, as well. But that don't mean I am gonna serve ya. If I know anything, I know trouble, and I can see the four of you are trouble. Hell, I can smell the trouble off of all four of ya. You ain't from around here, and them damn Snakes ain't gonna like ya, and so I don't want ya here."

Dwayne Taylor knew the reaction those comments would illicit from his partners, and quickly threw up a hand of caution to them. He didn't have to turn to be sure that Pantu had already grabbed his scythe and was preparing to decapitate the man.

The man behind the bar noticed the movement as well, and Dwayne watched as the man quickly reached under the bar for something, probably a firearm. With lightning-fast reflexes, Dwayne leaped across the bar counter, slapping the shotgun from the man's hand. He then punched him hard across the face, sending the man sprawling to the ground. Blood flowed freely from his broken nose, as he propped himself up against a nearby wall, and watched Dwayne to gauge his next move.

Dwayne quickly glanced at his three partners. Lillian Crawley, aka Diamond Lil, and Betsy Braddock, aka Psylocke, were facing the rest of the bar, preparing to deal with any of the handful of patrons that might decide to play hero and attack the group. The other member of their group, Pantu Hurageb, aka Reaper, was already reaching across the counter, and opening himself a bottle of rum.

"Figures," said Reaper, between gulps of the liquor, "we can't ever end up in a nice place after shifting through one of those bastards. Just once I'd like to end up on and Earth with a peaceful Utopia where all they want to do is feed me grapes and frag my brains out."

"Shut up, Reaper," growled Lil, obviously annoyed at Reaper's banter, "looks like there aren't any John Wayne-types out here Thrasher…"

"Good," said Wayne, keeping one eye upon the bartender, and another on the contents of his liquor collection, "now, old man, unless you want something a little more than a broken nose, I suggest you settle yourself down, let us have our liquor, and we will be gone."

The man just sat there upon the ground, holding the bloody rag to his nose, and glaring at Dwayne Taylor, aka Night Thrasher, with burning eyes of hatred.

"Better check this out, Thrasher," said Crawley. Dwayne turned and saw her pointing towards the television set. Upon it was a man, dressed in forest green clothing, with a golden serpent pendant upon his chest. He had long blond hair, and an attractive face with penetrating green eyes.

The man in the television spoke, "Attention all citizens of the Western Territory. I, your gracious Lord Hydra the Third, want to congratulate you on your last successful ‘Deviants Round-up". Because of you we were able to capture several of this Territory's most wanted criminals, just see…

The picture changed to what appeared to be an outdoor arena, filled with to near capacity with people. Many of them wore green garb similar to the man upon the screen. In the center of the ring stood several people Dwayne recognized from his own world. One was a mutant member of a group called X-Force named Rictor. Another was a member of Alpha Flight, an amphibian mutate that he believed went by the name Marrina. The third was a super-villain mutant named Spyne,a red, devilish looking creature.

Suddenly, all threw were torn to bits in a hail of bullets

Lord Hydra the Third returned to the screen, "Thanks to you, and your generous tips, the reward system is online and ready to work. The food center will be reopened tomorrow, and the first hundred people who enter will receive a month's supply of food and ten gallons of fuel. Remember to keep sending your tips in, and your loving rulers at Hydra will keep giving you their generous donations. Goodbye, and Hydra bless you!"

Reaper spat in disgust, "Jesus, we've stumbled upon some world where Hydra rules. What could be more pathetic than that? On my Earth, Hydra was nothing more than a bunch of crackpots with delusions of grandeur and a bunch of silly plots that always blew up in their face. Hell, I watched the Defenders League kick their asses on television more times than I could count."

"Well, evidently," said Psylocke, finally speaking, "this isn't YOUR world, now is it. I can sense the fear of these people, Hydra is a very serious threat. It seems Hydra controls every aspect of their lives, and rules this mini-country, comprising California, Nevada, and Arizona, with an iron fist."

"Where are all the heroes on this world?"

"Heroes," spat the bartender, "what flippin' heroes are you referring too. Those bastards like the Avengers and Fantastic Five? Hell they left years ago, went into space to stop some intergalactic war or something. They never came back. Hydra saw an opportunity, and aligned with some other criminal groups, and became real powerful. Then, they started pickin' of the heroes that were left. Now, all we got is Hydra, and they rule us with an iron fist.

Now, get out of here. Take what you want, and go, before they come and think I was helping you out, and they burned my place down. I don't want your kind here, only makes things worse for me."

Dwayne nodded, grabbed a couple of bottles from the shelf, and nodded to his team. The three of them were out the door.

>>>>>>

Later, several miles outside of the town, the four sat drinking by an open fire. Dwayne sat cross-legged, staring at the stars. Lil had laid her head against a nearby tree, and was lightly snoring. Psylocke and Reaper were laying together, Betsy's head nestled in Pantu's lap, as he gently stroked her hair.

"Are they all going to be like this?" asked Psylocke, the sadness in her voice unmistakable. He nestled close to Pantu. It wasn't like she was in love with the man, he wasn't the kind you fell in love with, but he kept her warm at night, and seemed to display an affection for her which he had for nothing else except fighting and survival. Still, it was hard sometimes, as she still remembered the time her X-Men fought the Reaper of her world, and watching him be killed by her fellow teammate Shatterstar.

"I pray not," said Night Thrasher, as he gulped down tequila, "Every time we step through one of those shifts, it seems like we get stuck in another shitty world. Maybe, that is what has happened since the Earths started drifting together. Maybe everything is just shit now."

"So what is the point, then," asked Besty, dismayed by his answer, "Why do we keep on doing this."

Pantu spoke, "What choice do we have babe? Do you want to just lay down and die? Hell no, I didn't do it when the Kree invaded my Earth and killed all my friends. I didn't do it when I first met you and Thrasher, and we ended up on that Earth where that Inferno thing turned Earth into Hell. I ain't gonna do it now, and I gonna let you do it either. We are warriors, survivors, and we are gonna stay that way.

Dwayne nodded in agreement. Normally, he found the obnoxious Reaper almost too much to bear, but it was moments like this, which made him glad he was around. In truth, he was starting to have some doubts about their reasons for survival himself. This life was hard, moving through shift, never knowing how bad a place he would end up in. Never knowing which friends you would see, or see as enemies, or see as dead, over and over again. Sometimes he felt his sanity slipping right through his fingers.

Maybe it was just the liquor. Maybe it was Reaper's speech. Maybe it was his own damn stubbornness, but Dwayne Taylor fell asleep moments later, and for a little while, the sleep was calm and peaceful, as he dreamed of a place he could call home.

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