* * * * *

Lewis glared half-accusingly at Lancer.

"I thought you said you lacked any horse artillery."

Lancer shamelessly grinned: "This isn't artillery, per se. This is technically a light infantry weapon."

* * * * *

3 HOURS/45 MINUTES LATER

The two columns of cavalry were just about to converge and surround Heraclitoris, when she shapeshifted once more. This time, transforming into a giant queen bee roughly the size of a railroad boxcar!

Lancer immediately ordered his men to rein in and dismount. For he could tell, just by the way she was darting about above them, that she was looking for opportunities to dive at them. The same way a falcon dives for its prey!

"Hold your fire, until I say otherwise! Hold it. Hold...it! OPEN FIRE!! FIRE AT WILL!!!"

Her first dive was thwarted by the opening fusillade. As was the second. The third, however, resulted in the capture of two enlisted men. One in each of her hindmost legs.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Each of these men wound up being run through her by her enormous stinger. She then dropped them back to Earth, like a child who has become dissatisfied with a toy. After which, she started diving at her enemies, again.

So preoccupied was she, with her sadistic game of aerial cat-and-mouse, that she failed to notice the rapidly approaching conveyance in black.

It was--somewhat appropriately--a hearse!

More specifically, the horse-drawn hearse owned by Mort Jacobs, the town mortician. And, cracking the whip over the heads of the Cleveland Bays drawing it was Leif O'Reilly!

"Yeeeeeeeeeeee-HA!! Come on, boys. Keep it movin'!"

Sitting in the glass-paneled rear of the hearse was Father Cypriano, unable to resist smiling at Leif's vengeful glee. Moments later, though, that smile vanished when he heard the horses being reined in by Leif.

"Stand by, padre. I'm turnin' us around for a good view of that bee-itch!"

"Bueno!"

A minute later, the monster-hunting clergymen was gazing out through the hearse's right-hand panel. And, sure enough, there was Heraclitoris. Still descending upon the beleagured cavalrymen. And, still ascending with two to four captives at a time, every second or third dive.

Father Cypriano knew there was no delaying any longer. He whipped the cover off the Gatling gun, and aimed it towards where the roof of the hearse had been removed.

tbc