The steel fist came out of the sky, bigger than a watermelon. Mountain Man felt the chaos it made in the air above him, looked up to see it coming straight for him. He turned to move out of the way, but it still struck him in the shoulder and sent him sprawling to the road.
The asphalt beneath didn’t yield to him like more natural stone would, and the impact forced the air out of his lungs with a whoosh like a gust of wind through pines. He felt none of his bones break, though. Even in this hard, man-made city, there was still enough of the natural world in it to give a little bit.
Another disturbance above him made him roll out of the way, and a second fist drove into the asphalt, sounding like a cannonball. Scrambling to his feet, he saw the cable attached to it at the wrist, like a dark grey polymer vein, leading back up into the night. A moment later, the line snapped up its slack, and the fist was drawn into the air. Mountain Man swung wildly, and caught the line in his meaty, earthy hand. Next thing he knew, he was flying, dragged into the sky along with it.