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Alison Sillitoe was distracted, by the first wave of explosions, long enough for Lewis to dive forward, somersault, and grab up his discarded gunbelt, all in one smooth motion!

By the time her sisters had called this to her attention, he had already buckled it back on. Allowing him to draw both Colts, simultaneously, and fire. The twins, Charlotte and Deirdre, wound up losing each of their big left toes. Followed by Bertha losing her big right toe!

Lewis did not waste time after that. If Father Cypriano was right, even newly-created empusae had accelerated healing powers. Meaning that these three semi-giantesses would not be impeded for long.

He swiftly reholstered his revolvers, scooping up his confiscated Sharps carbine with his left hand...and Little Clark with his right.

"Lauren! Catch!"


Lauren stared in disbelief at the shrunken man clinging to the bodice of her bridal gown.


"Howdy, honey. I'm home."

"Shut up and run!" barked Lewis, pushing his prospective sister-in-law towards the now-open gate.

"Alison!" shouted Heraclitoris: "You and your sisters recapture these trouble-makers. I shall deal with their reinforcements."

So saying, the self-styled goddess became a hundred feet tall, before going off to confront the rapidly approaching Sixth Cavalry.

Alison did her best to carry out her orders. And, other circumstances, she might have. As she could fast-walk, at her twelve-foot height, faster than her quarry could run at normal size. Lewis, spotting this over his shoulder, skidded to a stop and fired the Sharps.


Alison started jumping up and down on her left leg, howling in pain from her small right toe having just been blown in half. This, in turn, allowed Lauren and her precious cargo to reach the relative saftey of the three men holding off the jaguar-cultists at the ruined gate.

"Schnell, mein hauptmann!" exclaimed Fleischer: "We are running low on reloads."

"Then, yell for the horses, dang it!" came the retort. Whereupon, Tom put his left hand to his cheek, creating a semi-funnel around his upper and lower lips.


Meanwhile, Brevet Major Lancer and his remaining troops were halfway toward the ruined gate when they saw titanic Heraclitoris striding towards them. So, at the top of his lungs, he yelled for his column to fan out in a pincer movement. Half of them veering diagonally to the right; the rest, following him to the left.

When they were exactly parallel to her, they wheeled their horses about, and charged her from both sides, at the same time. Then, upon reaching maximum range for their Colt revolvers, Lancer shouted the order to open fire at will.

Heraclitoris winced as the first wave of bullets assaulted her lower legs. At her present size, the impact was more like a series of insect bites. More maddening than painful. But, after a whole day of such "stings," her patience was exhausted.

"Now, ye shalt all taste thine own medicine!"

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