The morning after the merchants escape Priest summoned Richard for a meeting. He got worried that someone had seen something. He eyed his special bag with his stocked up explosives, he wanted to blow his payload on the mountain, with a chance of killing whatever god the idol was modeled after. He would settle for killing Priest, and destroying the idol alone. He strapped the bag on for safety, checked over his secret sawed offs, and readied himself.

Priest was outside the tent, screaming some orders at random cultist. Telling them to dig latrines, or swarm the land like locusts looking for food. Or to search for locusts to eat. He stopped as he saw Richard, his red face cooling. “Bandit, I have a job for you. There is an alchemist fifty miles east, he lives in burned out house ,a little outside a ghost-town. We need seventeen grams of a colorless liquid called HCN, he should have it in stock. Quartermaster has prepared a payment for the man. But after you obtain the HCN, kill the alchemist and reclaim the items.”

“I will get it done Priest.” He got a sack full of dried flesh, gold rings, and a few plastic bottles of various liquid. He didn't know why Priest didn't want to let this stuff go, but he just followed orders.

Richard hit the road, glad to get out of the camp. He could probably stretch this out as a day trip, and get to skip out on the Friday festivities. The bulk of his explosives stashed back in camp. He still had a few hand grenades, and had kept the case of plutonium. There was a chance he could explain away the explosives, but he had no good excuse for have a kilo of plutonium.

Richard was surprised about thirty miles in, when he hit an invisible wall. His bike just stopped, and he was thrown going a good twenty feet before he was also stopped, luckily before hitting the pavement. He was wearing a full suite of coats, but was happy not to see how many layers would burn off before he stopped. It was like he was in space, simply floating weightless. He kept his helmet on looking around, and spotted a woman coming out of the weeds on the side of the road. “I am Persephone, Wicca Queen,” she announced. The woman was maybe three hundred pounds, and completely naked, except for a layer of grime. “Thanks for catching me, do you want a coat?” Richard asked.

“You wear the fabric of man, who are you? I saved you from falling because I considered you may be of the superior gender. After all you wear a helmet, showing intelligence lacking by the brutish sex.” she screamed, and before Richard could say anything, a purple blast fired out of Persephone and into him.

The force of it sent him into something of a spin. His conscious flickered, and he briefly saw a woman waking up after the lost week, covered in dirt in the center of a magic circle. “You are a man, Dick Bandit, a scion of your kind. You shall perish before my magic.” She began muttering something arcane. Richard felt a clawing sensation run up his back. Snowman crawled out from within his coats, disturbed by the rotation. Richard hadn't even realized he was in there, he could've sworn he had left the cat at camp. Snowman leapt to the ground, and tore off towards Persephone, emitting a low yowl. Several small black dogs raced out of the grass, and the animals formed a huge mass of whirling fur. “I see you to have a familiar, you have studied the magics.”

“Yes, and I could smite you like Sodom and Gomorrah with my power,” Richard lied, not knowing what else to do.

“Fool, any magic you wield is what you can cup in your hands. Women are powerful and mystical, and men are not. Our wombs are connected to the moon and tides, and men's penises are connected to nothing!”

“Mine's connected to your mom's lips!” Richard shouted back, and laughed hysterically. Persephone grew so angry she must have lost control of her magic as Richard dropped to the ground. He rolled on the ground, still in a fit of laughter. She raced up to him, and started to stomp on him. He grunted in pain, then pulled the cord, and his shotguns fired birdshot into her. She screamed and fell backwards, crawling away towards the grass. Getting shot from so close would probably be fatal, even if blood loss didn't get her, dozens of pellets would be lodged in there, and infection was inevitable. It would be a kindness to finish her off.

By the time he had gotten up she had already made it into the weeds. Perhaps she knew some healing spell that would save her life. Snowman finished sending the last of the dogs away, only a little ruffled from the fight. He climbed back up Richard, and disappeared into his coats. Richard glued a couple patches onto the outer coat to cover the bullet holes, and reloaded the shotguns. He figured he had come into wizard territory, and drove his bike slower, on the lookout for another ambush.