The first attack on the man’s part missed, because he relocated mid-swing, avoiding a bullet. He swung back the other direction, however, then back again, almost careless in how he swung back and forth. Ed’s friend Shane died. Ed kicked out—hit only air as the man relocated to a spot just to the left. A knife plunged into Ed’s chest.

Gary fumbled to reload, dropping his ammo. They’d left their cover, and they were still under fire. Soon was hit in the midsection and sat down hard, falling back because they were on a slope. Even in the dark, the whites of his eyes were visible.

Gary found more ammunition, slotting it into the side of the rifle.

The man with the knife had three bodies near him, now, and the dark silhouette on a dark background was fixating his attention on a fourth person, who was trying to run for it. That person—another of Gary’s volunteers—wasn’t nearly so camouflaged in the dark. His blue shirt stood out in the gloom.

The knife-wielding parahuman didn’t get his hands on that person—but only because the people with the semiautomatics landed a killing blow before he could get there.

Gary ran.

A loud noise and an intense gust following the movement of aircraft bowled him over. He skidded on the slope below him.

A giant robot, and not the one with the eel inside.

Anyone would have recognized this kind of design. Sleek, green with gold trim, with enough lights on it that it seemed to glow. The craft landed a short distance from where the shooters had been.

The flashes as the machine attacked were brilliant, though Gary wasn’t in a position to see what had caused it.

The parahuman who nobody could touch was approaching Gary’s group. A sharp whistle from behind gave it pause.

A man in green scale armor with gold trim, a faint beard on his chin, a spear in hand. He swung the spear, and the head detached, swinging like a flail with what had to be a thirty foot cord or wire.

The parahuman disappeared, reappearing at a point close to the base of the hill. Just out of reach of the flail.

The man in green armor swung the flail again, but this time the head came loose. It disappeared into the darkness.

An explosion ripped through an area at the foot of the hill. The spear’s head had detonated—and the parahuman stood at the periphery of the explosion. His arm went up to his nose and mouth.

“You can’t touch him!” Gary shouted. “He killed three people!”

“More than three,” the man in green and gold armor said. He held his spear-shaft like one might hold a rifle. It bucked like it had fired something, but it was silent, and there was no light nor smoke.