Gargoyles: Clan Manhattan -- Volume #20: "The Storm"

Volume #20: "The Storm"

A loud thunderclap reverberated through the night sky over Manhattan, as the rain continued. Without signs of ceasing. As it had been for the past two days.

Anxiously, the extended Clan stood in the courtyard of high Castle Wyvern, their poses and faces not belying their discomfort. A gust of wind passed over the group, making several lose their balance, and forcing most of them to cape their wings about their shoulders. Sister looked to brother, mate looked to mate.

Nobody knew what would happen next.

A shadow formed in the doorway of the Great Hall leading from the Castle. Nearly in unison, the entire Clan leaned forward, hanging on the silhouette's arrival and words.

When she arrived, though, everyone took back a gasp of shock.

Rosanna stood before them, proudly as ever. But her face ... the right side of her face had taken on the appearance of decay. The flesh had mortified to an ugly dark purple color, darker even than her natural skin tone. The right eye did not shine as it usually did ... rather it was darkened, its pupil turning lazier than its companion on the left. She looked over her troops as best as she could, through the driving rain.

Finally she spoke. And her voice also showed signs of the retro-virus ravaging her body.

"We've just heard that the Rokkans have parked that mothership of theirs over Times Square. It appears to be the main staging area for their troops. We're taking four parties, and try attacking from all sides.

"But first ... in the absence of Samson ..."

Rosanna looked to Ariana with all the emotion and sympathy she wished she could offer the daughter of Brooklyn.

".. and because of my current condition ... it has become imperative that I choose a new second. I have taken my time in choosing one, because I need a true leader who can take over at a moment's notice should I fall.

"That being said ... I choose Graeme as my new second."

The crowd rustled in the rain, as Graeme stepped forward toward his leader.

"Graeme, do you accept this responsibility I now give to you?"

He stood proudly, defiant against the storm. "I accept, Rosanna. You can place your trust in me."

Rosanna smiled. The moment was interrupted, however, as gunfire rained down from the sky. As the clan looked skyward, the attackers became all too clear.

Rokkans.

"Scramble and counterattack!! MOVE!"

Nearly in unison, the clan scrambled for weapons and armor. Rosanna hesitated, rasping with violent coughing, but finally took off, sidearm in hand, blazing away at the attackers.

At the trailing end of the attacking Rokkan party, the commanders stood watch carefully from the observation deck of their expeditionary ship. At the center of the line of commanders stood one short blue gargess.

Demona.

=The attack goes well.=

Demona nodded. "Where's Rosanna?"

A Rokkan male pointed out toward the melee. Demona squinted her eyes until she saw her nemesis stepdaughter, in the midst of the fighting.

"Field glasses. Quickly!"

The Rokkan on her left handed her a pair of digital binoculars. She put them to her eyes, carefully scanning Rosanna's features. She saw the disfigurement of the Manhattan Clan leader's face. Saw the struggle she had to go through just to stay in the fight.

The retro-virus was working.

She smiled. The unholy smile of a murderer.

Rain looked up into the fight, from his position on the high tower. He specifically focused his watch on Rosanna, looking for any sign that she may falter.

Footsteps behind him distracted him from his watch. He turned to see Alexander Xanatos behind him.

"How long have you been watching her?"

"I wasn't ..." Rain stammered.

"You don't have to make excuses, Rain. You're watching Rosanna. Admit it."

Rain sighed. "You're right, I am. I can't help it, I'm worried about her."

Alexander smiled. If only he knew ... "Actually, Rain, I'd prefer it if someone would watch her back out there. If she falls, I want her down here at a moment's notice."

Rain looked at the industrialist. "All right."

"Just bring her to the medlab if she goes down. We'll be ready."

"We?"

"Myself and her father."

Rain nodded, acknowledging. He leaped off the tower and glided back into the midst of the fighting.

The fight was going well for Clan Manhattan. Many Rokkans had fell, but it was unclear whether they were simply stunned or killed. Right now, though, not many cared.

All were distracted with worry for their leader.

Rosanna, though, seemingly had no cares about her own well-being. She continued to fight with everything she had, tearing through the Rokkan lines.

Not too far off, Griff and Robyn Canmore held their own against the attackers, but they kept an eye on Rosanna.

"I hope she'll be all right."

Griff looked at Robyn, just as he threw off another attacker. "She's a tough one, Robyn. She's been through a lot. It'll take more than this to knock her off."

Robyn nodded. "I guess ... but I can't help but to worry. I share the burden of my brother's vow. If she dies with us here ..."

Lexington had been fighting distractedly, slipping through the attackers' lines as he usually fought in mid-air. His companions watched him fight with abandon, worrying for him equally as they worried for Rosanna.

Pontiac was the first to speak, though. "This is going to kill him."

Her companions, Lina and Angela, looked at her. Lina asked, "Why?"

"He told me about his own ... problems. The ones he had so many years ago."

Angela knew. Her eyes darkened. "Madoc."

"Exactly. I know it tore him up telling me about what they had done to him, and it took all of his courage to let me into his personal world. But the prospect of Rosanna winding up the same way ..."

"It's frightening."

"More than you know, Lina," Angela added mournfully. "More than you could ever know."

Rain kept his gaze steady on Rosanna all through his ascent. Even though he had to deal with random Rokkans trying to kill him, he kept his focus solely on the lavender gargess. She seemed unaffected by her affliction.

Unconsciously, he admired her resolve. By his measure, it took a lot of energy and courage to deal with it as she had. He knew he would have never had the resolve.

Or the passion ...

He set his eyes firm, finding updraft after updraft in the wet night air, coming toward Rosanna.

By her own measure, Rosanna had held herself up pretty well. She had been able to deal with the racking coughs, still managing to take down her fair share of attackers.

Even the nausea had come and gone. Although she hoped nobody had been on the street below when she had been forced by her withering body to vomit while firing. But she had dealt with it.

She steadied the sight of her laser pistol, using her one good eye to aim it. The Rokkan came into her sights

And suddenly, she couldn't stop salivating.

Her vision began to blur ...

The gunsight wobbled ...

Her muscles failed her ...

And finally, in the midst of the convulsions, her wings inadvertently caped themselves around her, sending her on a fast descent.

Alexander watched with growing horror as Rosanna was taken into the seizure by the retro-virus. He pressed the earpiece on his right ear.

"Goliath, I need you in the medlab now. Your daughter is dying."

Rain dove like a shot when he saw Rosanna fall. His eyes widened wildly with horror, his arms outstretched to grab the falling gargess.

And he caught her roughly, nearly sending himself into a death dive of his own. Gritting his teeth, fighting Rosanna's violent seizure, he opened his wings, desperately hunting for an updraft or a thermal to take him back up to the Castle. He watched the ground approaching ... faster ... faster ...

Finally, he found one. A strong thermal, probably created by the severe storm, pushed him back up toward the zenith of the Aerie building. He angled himself into a lazy spiral around the building: with the rain and the gusting winds, it was the safest way to get back to the top.

He became more relieved as Rosanna's seizure subsided. She was still once more. But she was unconscious.

Cradled in his arms, Rain pushed the hair away from her face where it had been thrown by her muscle contractions. He held her tighter to his body as he ascended.

"Hang on, Rosanna. Hang on for me."

To Be Continued ...

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