Re: Roadside tent: Daniel W & Damian W
Damian could have dispersed a gas that would leave the men asleep, something Father might have done. But, he had come to punish and he could not punish without a fight. For dramatic effect, to startle the men, he crawled atop one of them lightly and hissed in his face, "What have you done?"—It was enough to make Goon #1 yelp and, like the buffoon he was, shoot wildly at the tent ceiling before he had even managed to pull his gun (a pistol) from out of the sleeping bag. Damian stood back, melting into the shadows, as the shots and shouting woke Goon #2, who too, inexpertly and stupidly, began to empty his clip in a wild throw of arm.
It was like a slapstick comedy playing out with the stink of cordite. Stupid mayhem, stupid goons. This was why hired muscle was a sham. Damian tutted. He was not content to let them shoot each other accidentally. He stepped out to grab Goon #2's arm. He bent it down, and, in the dark, with alarming accuracy, aimed a shot at Goon #1's kneecap, then at the pistol in his hand. He dipped to pull the sleeping bag out from under Goon #2 with a strong jerk, let him fall, stomped his, Goon #2's, hand into the dirt, and placed his boot over the man's testicles with inborn menace. Predictably, as was habit of those with ill-paid loyalty, Goon #2 froze. (Goon #1 was left for the vampire. He was currently fumbling for his pistol, where it had landed under the mummy's display cart.) Damian was unfazed, his movements fast and fluid and effortless.
Goon #1 was, in a display of idiotic bravery, overcoming the pain of his blown-apart kneecap to try to lift himself to standing/leaning against the mummy, gun in hand. If the vampire (the real one) was nearby, he took aim and fired.