"The lights in the cabin dimmed as a wide beam of white shone from just above Terry's head. All five of the young men had a perfect view of the scree...."Yabba-dabba-doo!" shouted the familiar image of Fred Flintstone."Flintstones?" groaned Johnny. "This is just dumb."The jet streaked noiselessly over the Great Plains. Inside, Fred and Barney were entertaining the band with double the effect that Hanna or Barbera expected.Scott grinned at the slapstick antics on the screen. The vivid colours. The warhorse bucked, throwing the dead guard off onto the road with a clatter.Master's head whipped around, finding me. “You okay?”“It's all his blood,” I grinned. “And his horse's.” I brought my bloody fingers to my mouth, licking them clean, bathing myself with a tongue.Master gave me a strange look, like he found it odd I would clean myself after getting soaked in blood.By the time my fingers were sparkling clean, Mistress rode her black mare to us. “Are you okay?”“I'm fine, Mistress,” I. More

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