The Case of the Pyron

Hi, this is Cripto again. So I think it is pretty well established that there are three identities to my life—my superhero side, Cripto; my rock star side as frontman of Furry Fury, Nathan Knight, and my cowboy side as the modern Licky Nicky—and that I am serving two organizations, the G-52s, and the D-19. Even though I unofficially am part of the D-19 as a certified agent-officer of light, I had never really gotten an official mission from Prince Zanta in his role as commanding officer of the D-19. (Not bad for a 10-year-old cat, don’t you think?) Today would be the first day I would do that.

I had spent a few days in my cowboy role as the modern Licky Nicky supervising the building of the new Moon Dweller Estates, the new home of Jocko and his fellow tribeswolves that survived the initial ambush of Dead-Eye Dennis and his coyote gang, somehow disappeared, and ended up in Shiver City in Zanta’s world. This town was located right next door to Glenn View Springs, Arizona, and began at the exact point its neighbor ended at, as marked by the signs. I first discovered this when the Righteous Outlaw and I found Zanta sitting on top of the roof of Miss Jamie’s Tumbleweed Saloon, throwing knives at a target he set up, and with precise accuracy (and also with no body on the target; I hate it when they do that). What made it more amazing was that he threw the knives with his eyes closed, and each and every knife hit the exact center.

“Impressive!” I said when Zanta spotted us and jumped down to the ground.

“I’ll say,” the Outlaw smiled. “I haven’t seen such remarkable knife throwing since the day you and I first met Jocko!”

“Why, thank you,” Zanta chuckled. “I was doing this to pass the time while waiting for you. I came here to investigate and I felt this was perfect for your official first assignment as a D-19 agent-officer of light, since you haven’t had one yet, and Mom, Dad, and I won’t be giving you very many because we know you are also a G-52. Every agent-officer should have a few at least.”

“I can understand that,” I said. “What’s the problem?”

“I haven’t decided whether to make this your first official assignment for us, but one of our eternals who lives here, a 78-year-old bull—but young at heart with that much energy because he never lost it—named Jeb, reported to me that there have been livestock incinerated all over town. Here’s a photo he gave me.” Zanta held it up so the Outlaw and I could have a look at it after scanning it with his E-terminal, his own communicator similar to the ones T2 invented for us, but a step up to the next level.

“Who is that?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but I will once I see some of the victims within the livestock.”

“Follow me, and I’ll show y’all where it is,” the Outlaw called as he and I saddled up. Zanta followed us over to the pen marking the end of the last cattle drive that the Outlaw assisted the Nickelbacks on. The horrible smell prompted me to snap my fingers and protect us from it, even though I held my nose. “P.U.!” I exclaimed. “I knew there were bad smells that came from the dead, but this is ridiculous!”

After examining one of the charred bones, Zanta called for me. “Cripto?”

“Yes?” I replied.

“It’s official. This will be your first assignment for us, the D-19. These livestock were not killed by mortal hands. They were killed by a spirit known to us as a pyron. Want to know what that is?”

“Yes, I do. Also tell me if this is a solo mission or if I must team up with someone, whether or not it is him.” I motioned to the Outlaw.

“A pyron is the tortured soul of a human or furry that died due to heat. They incinerate livestock and later people as a result, and the only way to kill them is to find their remains and have them on you when you fight them. When the spirit falls to the ground, dump water on it and it will go away forever. If you want help, I’ll select someone to accompany you. It won’t be the Outlaw because this requires the work of eternals.”

“I understand,” said the Outlaw. “I ain’t sure I could bear to watch this anyway.”

“I see what you mean as well,” I said. “I had better take care of this before the culprit in question starts torturing all the people in town. Please ask someone to join me.”

“Carrie! Come!” Zanta called after snapping his fingers. In an instant Warwolf’s adopted daughter appeared, and now that she had a different attitude towards superheroes thanks to the fact she and her dad totally made up by now, she was showing no signs of hostile exposure upon seeing me. “You called, boss?” she replied.

“Yes, I did. I’ve issued Cripto here with a ride along mission. I’d like you to help him because your grades in survival are the best at the academy.”

“Sure thing!” she smiled. “I can help. Plus, I’m in a much better mood today, now that Dad and I are bonding together again.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “I was getting a bit worried there upon hearing he fled to Pluto.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t counting on him to do that, either, but it’s all behind me, now.” Carrie and I then headed out on our mission. I rode the horse the Outlaw assigned me to ride while she followed me on foot, so I made sure I did not gallop or go too fast. Shortly after we began, however, she decided to ride a horse, and being an Earth eternal, she made one from rose vines and hopped on. Although she and I did spot Warwolf in the sky, we were too far apart to wave at one another. He was in the process of sending the Glaswegian Devils back where they belonged anyway, so it was a routine in the day of the life for him.

The Outlaw stayed behind with Zanta for his sake, and answered all his questions about the exciting and mind-boggling life he led as a cowboy without a name. “I’m not worried that I’ll never find out what it was; it probably was just an ordinary name like Butch or Cody, or something along that line,” he said. “In fact, it’s probably what has made me the hero that I am.”

Carrie’s use of her own E-terminal helped me find the other livestock in question, where it was evident to us that the pyron was busy at work. We couldn’t bear to stand the sight of what was happening, but it was happening all right. “So that’s how it does it,” I said. “Now I know for sure I have to defeat this. It’ll feel ugly wrestling with it, but what else can I do?”

“I’ve got the water ready,” Carrie replied. “As soon as you are able to get it to the point I can dump water on it, I’ll dump it.”

“Okay, I’m going in,” I said as I got the horse to propel me upward, doing a spectacular leap onto the pyron. The resulting wrestling match was just like a professional one in the ring, with myself and the pyron duking it out. At one point it did a body slam on me, but I was able to get it off and counterattack. My lariat and two guns would have been useless against it since water was the only way to defeat it, but it became obvious that the pyron was hoping to use those against me. I wouldn’t let it.

Eventually the battle turned in my favor as I laid on my back with the pyron on me, and I shouted, “Okay, splash it!” Carrie did so and it went away, although its remains lied on the ground next to me. Carrie had enough water to drench it, but she also drenched me. I lied on the ground for a few minutes and let the soaking sensation cool me down.

“Are you okay?” Carrie asked when she started to show signs of worry.

“Yes, now that the case is closed,” I said. “I’m actually glad you drenched me; it’s hot down here.” I got to my feet and saddled up. “Now to tell your boss that the case is solved.” Then my communicator beeped, as did Carrie’s E-terminal. The message was from Zanta, stating we each had received a $200,000 payment and it had immediately gone to our bank accounts. “How’d I get a bonus?” I asked, indicating I still had much to learn about the D-19.

“You completed a mission and they paid you for it,” Carried replied as we rode back to town. “Me, too. They track you during missions with these E-terminals, which are sort of like the communicators you and the G-52s use. I wouldn’t be surprised, therefore, if the Outlaw and some others were watching on the bosses’ E-terminal. Also, I was told to tell you to tell your boss—Super C, that is—that your communicators are in link with our E-terminals, as a result of the negotiations you made with us the night you met Psychon, and later the boss and the queen and king.”

“I’ll be sure to notify him of that,” I said as we reached town, forwarding the message to the Cat of Steel after adding some text to it, much like how you can when you forward an e-mail. Carrie also sent a similar message to Warwolf, and upon receiving it, he smiled and said, “That’s my girl!”

“Well, y’all are drenched to the bone, ain’t you?” the Outlaw chuckled as we arrived.

“I am, but mission accomplished,” I said.

“I know,” said Zanta. “We saw. Good job on your first D-19 mission; we’re all so proud of you. You still have the remains, right? I’ve called Father Alphonse and he’s coming to give them a proper burial. Notice how you found the remains unburied in the middle of scenic nowhere. He died of dehydration, and his tormented spirit sought revenge on all who still had life.”

“Well, that explains how all the livestock were dying,” I said. “Here are the remains of the pyron.” I pulled them out of a bag I had created with my powers and laid them on the ground.

“Good. Now we wait for Father Alphonse.”

“Or not wait; here he comes now. I guess he’s in the spirit, too.” I said this because the 5’6” field mouse was now on the scene, making his way in a very solemn manner. Today marked the first time he met Jocko and his fellow tribeswolves, which, recall, required all male wolves to be drummers, and he wanted to meet them upon hearing their story. As a result, he formally came marching in at about 100 beats a minute, as Jocko and some other wolves kept the beat with their instruments. He marked time for a few measures before halting, ordering himself to stand at ease, and then kneeling down to examine the remains.

Since Father Alphonse was a priest, he said, “This poor soul suffered greatly out in the wilderness, with no water and no food, and no one came to find him. He grew angry at that. That turned him into a pyron. So we should see he is properly laid to rest.”

“How do we do that?” I asked.

“Just a typical church burial, but we bury a sealed pot of holy water with him. Is there a church nearby?”

“Yup,” said the Outlaw. “Follow me, and I’ll take y’all there.” Father Alphonse gathered the remains and we did so as Jocko and the other wolves returned home. He did all that had to be done as he saw fit, and to this day, that soul’s gravesite has a pot of water next to it, protected by a force field so that no one would dare touch or drink the water.

Even Super C was impressed with the way I handled the case when he and some other G-52s (including Warwolf, Firefox, and Captain Cripton) came by and saw the site. We all decided to celebrate at Miss Jamie’s Tumbleweed Saloon, and thus, Carrie got her first taste of her of homemade sarsaparilla, which she enjoyed very much.

More missions were to come, but as Zanta promised, he respected my loyalty to the G-52s and the job we do as protectors of America, the world, and the universe.

THE END