Storming Paradise Read Online Free PDF Page B

stop it sinking further. His strength was legendary, but even he could only hope to slow the street’s descent for a few moments. “Evacuate the street,” he shouted to Iolaus.
    â€œHow?” Iolaus shot back. “No one wants to leave!”
    He was right, Hercules knew. He had tried to get people to leave but no one wanted to listen, they were too caught up in this party to end all parties.
    At that moment, as Hercules tried to figure out an answer, the stone step to which he clung broke away and a great chunk of masonry came crumbling down in his hands, dropping to the street with a crash. The street continued to sink, five feet becoming six, the buildings above shifting to enclose the space, marching forward like centurions. As the buildings shifted, closing together above their heads, the street became darker, cast in shadow where it had been momentarily touched by the dawn’s light. People started screaming as they finally realized that something was very wrong.
    â€œHercules!!!” Iolaus called again, fear unmistakable in his tone.
    Hercules looked around frantically, wondering what he could possibly do now to stop this disaster. His strength was not enough to hold back the street’s descent, and if that was not enough then he did not know what else he could do. Hercules made a tough decision then, the kind that would haunt a man of even the firmest resolve:
he ran.
    Iolaus was bewildered when he saw Hercules come charging towards him. “What’s the plan, big guy?”
    â€œSave our skins!” Hercules replied without slowing his pace. His outstretched hand slapped against Iolaus’ back as he spoke, pushing the man in a stuttering run towards the end of the street.
    â€œWoo! Gonna . . . let me . . . catch my . . . breath?” Iolaus complained as Hercules shoved him towards the disappearing end of the street.
    â€œNo time!” Hercules replied, grabbing Iolaus by the top of his pants with one hand and his collar with the other. Then, Hercules lifted Iolaus from the ground and threw him high into the air.
    Iolaus sailed through the air, screaming as he hurtled ten feet upwards and out of the disappearing street. Around him, the buildings that had lined the street were closing in, barely a two foot gap between them now.
    Iolaus landed hard on the ground, tucking and rolling automatically as he struck the dirt. He came to a halt a moment later, rolling to a stop beside the well that dominated the center of the village square. Around him were buildings on four sides with streets between them.
    Getting up on hands and knees, Iolaus turned and looked back at the party street, now ten feet behind him. Except there was no street—the buildings had all but closed in on the space where it had been, the only indication of its existence a dark trench that still ran between them.
    â€œHercules!” Iolaus called, scrambling back towards where the street had been.
    For a moment the only movement was the twin rows of buildings as they shifted impossibly back to cover the hole in the ground where the street had been, sealing the ditch. Iolaus stared, mouth open, unable to process what had just happened.
    And then the ground between those buildings seemed to explode, and the familiar form of Hercules came bursting from the soil, a woman tucked under each arm. He leapt forward and seemed to take a few steps through the air before finally landing six feet behind where Iolaus stood at the edge of the disappeared street. He and his charges were covered in dirt, but they were otherwise unharmed.
    â€œWhat in the name of Zeus’ lightning just happened?” Iolaus asked as Hercules set down the two women whom he had rescued. One was clad in the short white dress of the dancing girls that he and Iolaus had first encountered, while the other was a woman in her thirties, wearing a loose cotton blouse and lightweight skirt, her dark hair tied in a plait.
    â€œNo time,”