December 8, 2005
Week 32 - Impossible Dreams 13
"Slice and dice, MF!" he says.
Lamont tries to block him with a wrench he holds in his hand, but he is not fast enough.
The knife plunges into Lamont's chest and Lamont crumples to the ground.
The woman screams.
The man pulls out the bloody knife and waves it at Powell. "How 'bout you, nucker, you wanna show and prove?"
Powell shakes his head frantically.
The man laughs and looks at the woman, who cowers against the far wall of the alley. "Later, puta!" he says.
He runs off into the night.
The woman screams once more.
Powell runs to Lamont, who is bleeding profusely.
He tears off the curtain Lamont wears as a cape, bunches it up and presses it against the open wound.
"Mr. Lamont!" he says. "Coyote Man! Oh God!" He turns toward the woman, who stares at them, wide-eyed. "Go!" he yells. "Get help! Get an ambulance!" The woman nods and runs out of the alley.
Powell pulls the mask from Lamont's head and takes off his own. He pushes down on the crumpled curtain, struggling to stanch the flow of blood.
"Pan Boy," Lamont whispers.
Powell leans forward. "I'm here, Coyote Man..."
"Pan Boy... Look!" Lamont very slowly raises his right arm and points. Powell follows the gesture and sees the Observation Deck ride, stretching into the sky, from the park, several blocks away. The passenger compartment, a thick disk, has begun to rise up the tower. "The satellite component," Lamont mumbles, softly. "It's launching... You have to... have to stop it... We can't let... my brother win..." Lamont begins to cough and a spittle of blood drips from his lips. The disk continues to rise, until it finally reaches the top of the tower. "Too late," Lamont mumbles. "Too late..." His head falls back and he loses consciousness.