Back to my home page/introThe pack spotted him at once, and fanned out from doorways, blocking the street. "Your money, motherfucker", the leader hissed.
He still looked confused, but reached into his pocket to bring out a short open tube. Before they could react, he thumbed it and a transparent maelstrom whirled slowly outward. Shards of color and space spun within it; they scoured away the gang members' bullets, their screams, fragments of their bodies, patches of the pavement, and half a parked car.
He put the tube away. After some thought, he decided to feel sad.
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