Deathstalker 05 - Deathstalker Destiny

ripping away the flesh of his palms and fingers. Blood ran down his wrists. And then the rope snapped, like all the others.
    Owen could have jumped back and saved himself. Most of the lepers were out. But some were still caught in the wall's growing shadow. Owen looked around and spotted a half tree-trunk lying on its side, waiting to be trimmed into planks.
    It had to weigh at least half a ton, but Owen lifted it off the ground with one explosive grunt, swung it around and moved steadily forward to block the end against the falling wall segment. The weight hit the trunk hard, splitting it halfway down its length, but the improvised wedge held, and the wall segment stopped. Its weight pressed on, driving the tree trunk into the soft earth of the compound floor, and the split lengthened inch by inch. Owen threw his arms around the tree trunk and hugged it to him, holding it together despite all the weight of the wall could do. His arms shrieked with pain, and he was fighting for breath, but still he held the wedge together.
    Sweat poured down his face again. His back was ablaze with the pain of abused muscles. He risked a look over his shoulder, and saw that the last few lepers were almost clear. He only had to hang on for a few more seconds. The splitting wood twisted in his grip like a live thing, spiteful and resentful, the rough bark scraping and tearing his skin. And then Moon called to him that the last of the lepers were clear, and Owen let go the tree trunk and ran for his life. The trunk split in half in a second, and the wall segment came down like the crack of doom, missing Owen's departing heels by inches.
    He staggered on a few more steps and then sat down suddenly, all his strength and his breath going out of him as he shut down the boost. Time crashed back to normal about him, and suddenly lepers were running at him from all directions, cheering his last-minute rescue. The Hadenman Moon was quickly there at Owen's side to protect him from being overwhelmed, but for a moment it seemed hands were coming at him from everywhere at once, clapping him on the back or trying to shake his hand. He smiled and nodded, and tried to look as though it had been nothing. They didn't know he wasn't a superhuman anymore. No one did for sure, except Moon, who still had all his powers.
    Eventually the lepers grew tired of telling Owen how great he was, and they drifted back to work again. A squad of the hardier workers set about raising the collapsed wall segment back into place again, and hammered long nails in from every angle to make sure the bloody thing stayed put this time. Moon sat down beside Owen.
    "You know, I could have got there in time. And my augmented muscles were far better suited to supporting such a weight."
    "But you didn't get there. Besides, I like to feel useful."
    "How are your hands and arms?"
    Owen carefully didn't look at them. "They hurt like hell, but they're already healing. Part of the boost's benefits."
    "You can't keep pretending you're still superhuman, Owen. Boost can only do so much. And you know what the aftereffects do to you."
    "I can't just stand by, Tobias. I never could."
    "Even if it kills you?"
    "Don't you have some work to do, Moon?"
    "Are you going to be all right?"
    "Go away, Tobias. Please."
    The Hadenman nodded once, rose smoothly to his feet, and walked unhurriedly away. Owen sighed, slowly. No one must know how far he'd fallen, from what he was. He couldn't have coped with pity, on top of everything else. And Owen Deathstalker had made a great many enemies in his time. He couldn't afford word to get out that he was… vulnerable.
    "Moon's right, you know," said Oz.
    "And you can shut up too."
    "Watch your temper. And your language. Saint Bea's coming over."
    Owen raised his aching head, and his heart sank just a little more as he saw Mother Superior Beatrice bearing down on him, her simple nun's robes flapping about her like a ship under full sail. Saint Bea meant well, she always did, but he was in no mood for a lecture, however compassionate. He started to get up, but Mother Beatrice waved him back with an imperious gesture, and Owen's muscles obeyed before he realized what he was doing. Saint Bea had that effect on people. She gathered up her robes and sat down beside him, and then surprised Owen by not immediately tearing into him. Instead, she sat quietly beside him
    for a while, looking at nothing in particular, humming something vague and wistful half under her