* * * * *
At first, all was black. Then, slowly, I opened my eyes. And, I had a momentary twinge of panic as I beheld six fingers on my left hand!
But, my vision cleared, a moment later. And, I saw that Sir Anthony was holding three fingers of his right hand.
"Seeing a little clearer, now, are we?"
I gingerly nodded: "What...? How...?"
He helped me up and showed me the remains of the bed that previously separated us during our small arms sniping.
"That broke our fall. Unfortunately, I don't think Widow White and the others were so lucky."
He pointed to the rubble that had formerly been the back wall of the living room.
"What about the giantess?"
He shook his head: "I don't know. But, as we lost our pistols in that fall, I think we had better find someplace to hide before..."
As if on cue, a pair of giant, green-skinned hands suddenly swooped down on either side of us. Sweeping aside the rubble that flanked us before lifting us off the ground (by the collars of our disheveled shirts) with two pairs of black-clawed fingers.
The giant, reptilian visage we were brought up to eye level with was etched with malevolent glee. And, the voice that issued from it, though naturally sibilant, was none-the-less recognizable.
"Hello, boysssssss."
"Plaisantine?!" I exclaimed.
She fiendishly grinned and nodded.
"Did you misssssss me?"
"Does a dental patient miss an impacted wisdom tooth, once extracted?" Sir Anthony countered.
The snake-woman's gloating turned to angry glaring.
"Everybody'sssssss a comedian! Well, I'm the one who'll be laughing lasssssssst, little man. The moment I feel you hit my digessssssssssstive tract!"
Whereupon, she opened wide her massive jaws. Positioning Sir Anthony just above them! Before she could drop him in, however, I heard a sound shatter the unnatural stillness around us. A sound I had not heard since my days as a medical officer with the Lafayette Escadrille.*
The sound of a fighter plane in a power dive...prepatory to strafing the enemy.
Sure enough; the dirt behind our serpentine assailant developed twin rows of dust devils, before the machine gun bullets reached her giant tail and inched up towards her waist!
"ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH!!!!!"
Her ensuing scream of pain was of such volume that I instinctively closed my eyes and covered my ears. Ergo; I did not see her release me from her grip until I felt the wind blowing past my face. Yet, once again, I seemed to have a guardian angel watching over me. For, I landed on her wounded tail and, then, bounced off of it. Like a gymnast off an obscene trampoline!
I then wildly looked round to see if Sir Anthony had been similarly released. But, I couldn't spy him, anywhere.
"Peter! Up here!"
I looked skyward...and beheld him desperately holding on to Plaisantine's right nipple!
"Catch me! Hurry!"
I ran forward, as he let go. And, though I braced myself as best I could, when I skidded to a stop, the speed of his descent still toppled both of us to the ground with a collective "ooooof!"
That's when I heard the plane, again. It was coming back. No doubt to make another strafing run!
So, I half-dragged/half-carried Sir Anthony further to our right. And, just in time. Because, now, the twin trail of machine gun bullets started stitching a pattern above her waist. Straight up to where her cobra-like hood met the base of her throat!
Plaisantine's hands clutched her breasts in pain. Making me wonder if the machine gun bullets were blessed. Whatever their nature, though, the giant snake-woman still tried to flee. Back to the depths of Big Arbor Lake. But, she found no safety in those waters.
For, parked in the shallows, was another biplane. The floatplane version of a "Jenny Ericsson" three-seater, to be exact! And, in the center seat, there was a man armed with a .30-06 B.A.R. One that he quickly proved to be lethally proficient with, as he began opening fire at the bridge of Plaisantine's nose. Literally, right between her eyes!
Between his fusillade, and that of the first biplane (a Thomas/Morse MB-3, which had doubled back for a third strafing run!), she did not stand a chance. Because, she issued another, near-deafening scream of pain, one final time, before collapsing to the ground.
Moments later, the occupants of the Jenny came over to us. With her pilot making the introductions.
"I'm Captain Larry Biggs (USMC). The sharpshooter, here, is my little brother; Special Agent Jim Biggs of the FBI. And, the gentleman accompanying us..."
"...can handle his own intros, thank you," that other interrupted (before doffing his leather helmet and goggles with a melodramatic bow): "Harry Houdini, at your service! And, believe me; I'm no gentleman."
tbc
Giantess World
Chapter End Notes:
*Lafayette Escadrille: French name for the American volunteers who served as fighter pilots, in the French armed forces, during World War I (prior to 1917).
Jenny Ericsson: the three-seater variant of the Curtiss JN-4 biplane was mass marketed as "the Ericsson model."
B.A.R. (Browning Automatic Rifle): basically, the M-60 of the First World War.
Jenny Ericsson: the three-seater variant of the Curtiss JN-4 biplane was mass marketed as "the Ericsson model."
B.A.R. (Browning Automatic Rifle): basically, the M-60 of the First World War.