All eyes remained locked on Wil’s abdomen. He looked down in time to see the last of the shredded holes in his coat re-seal. Curiosity compelled him to open the coat and assure himself his wounds did the same. To his horror, his upper torso no longer existed; merely a black void. Small objects faintly glowed within, continuously revolving in a circle.
Firearms came from nowhere. Wil threw up his hand in protest. A shot resounded from his sleeve, and Mal fell as Meissner’s men fired. Their eyes widened further; their faces livid masks of fear as Wil absorbed the barrage without effect.
He felt empowered, prompting him to look again within the folds of his coat. The black void now had two continuous rotations; their orbits crossing each other at an angle. He reached within and plucked one of the objects from its orbit. Between thumb and forefinger, he examined the undamaged projectile. Once he put it back, it resumed its arc with the rest of the metal slugs.
It all became clear to him now; he could absorb kinetic energy. And what’s more… he could send it back.
He lifted his sleeves and mimicked pulling triggers, firing one shot, then another. What felt like an electrical pulse passing from his chest, leapt to his arms and beyond. The two shots killed two men.
Some re-loaded as others fired, keeping a continual desperate barrage on him. He smirked, firing another shot from his sleeve. A third man jolted and buckled at the knees. Wil now ignored his attackers completely as he stared down at his hands. He could take their assault and return fire with immunity, one shot at a time.
That’s no fun, he lamented. What if?
No sooner had he imagined shooting them with a machine gun, than his wrist chattered, returning their rounds to them as he swept his arm across the room. Every man fell, except for Meissner. The crime lord snapped his shot gun back into place and shakily pointed it at Wil.
Grinning, Wil stepped closer and waited, leaning slightly forward over the desk. Meissner fired both barrels into his chest, doing nothing.
“Didn’t you learn the first time?” said Wil.
The weapon tumbled from Meissner’s shaking fingers.
“What do you want?”
“I wanted your help, and your turned on me.”
“You can have everything in the safe.”
“Yes, I can, but I’m thinking that I now have the ability to take a lot more than the pittance I could get from you.”
Will raised his sleeve; intent burning in his eyes.
“You’re not Baxter; you’re some kind of… demon! Who are you?”
Snorting, Will rolled his eyes down at the discarded sawn off shot-gun, then back again.
“Call me ‘Shotgun.”‘
His sleeved thundered one more time in the manner of his name.