Backlash
BACKLASH BY Vrykolakas Scot hit the enter key for the last timethat day--at least, in an officialcapacity. He rose to his feet, pushing back his wheeled chairand stretching,all in one flowing series of motions. He was proud of his strength, all thosehours of martial arts; looked like something was finally paying off. His legstrength alone could kick out a fire-door. He brushed back a few stubborn locksof hair from his eyes, and grabbed for his jacket and keys. It was time togo. Food, a...