by Robert Bevan
Katherine willed herself to turn into a bat and fly after him. She almost felt like she could, and she came close to trying even though she knew she couldn’t.
“Katherine,” Dave whispered in his raspy dehydrated voice.
Katherine whipped her head to the right. “What? You want to talk now? I noticed you didn’t make a fucking peep while that nerd was murdering my brother.”
“Tim will be fine.”
Katherine stared at him, dumbfounded by the stupid coming out of his mouth. “Fine? Did you not just see what the rest of us saw?”
“I didn’t want to say anything while Mordred was listening. We can take Tim to a temple and get him resurrected.”
Katherine’s heartbeat quickened like she’d just woken up from a bad dream, and wasn’t quite sure if it was real or not. Was Dave right? Didn’t they bring that fat chick at the Whore’s Head back from the dead? Was it just a matter of money? She could sell her Bag of Holding and her Portable Hole and her Decanter of Endless Water. Tim would be good as new, and they’d have enough left over to get good and shitfaced. She could tell him that she loved him, that she understood he was going through a hard time, and that she’d always be there to protect him like a big sister should.
“Mordred would have anticipated that,” said Stacy. “And why did he just kill Tim but not the rest of us? Why would he walk off like a Bond villain and leave us all here in these easily escapable cages?”
Julian looked alert. “Does that mean you have a plan for getting out?”
“Well, no.” Stacy leaned back in her cage. “But come on, how hard could it be? We’ll think of something.”
Katherine’s instincts were to lash out at Stacy, but she didn’t have the energy. Instead, she thought about what Stacy said. It was peculiar that Mordred would just leave them hanging there, and that he’d overlook something as obvious as them being able to get Tim resurrected. Her heart softened a little as Mordred’s motivations started to make sense to her.
“He was just blowing off steam.”
Cooper wiped some tears away from his eyes. “That’s uncharacteristically understanding of you.”
“He wants us to live,” said Katherine. “Even Tim. He was just being a dick by killing him, flexing his nerd muscles and all that. But he needs us. All of these people he created, Captain Righteous and Bingam here, none of them are real. No offense.”
“None taken,” said Captain Righteous. “I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Mordred needs real people, Earth people, to dominate for it to be satisfying. Otherwise he’s just the same lonely fat kid he’s always been, playing alone with his Star Wars figures in his cat shit-riddled sandbox.”
Julian frowned. “That’s a very specific image.”
Katherine smiled and scratched the back of Butterbean’s neck. “I was thinking back to when Tim was a kid.”
“Okay,” said Stacy. “Now, who’s got an idea for getting us the hell out of here?”
Responses were slow-coming. Surprisingly, Cooper was the first one to blurt out an idea.
“We could ride a pegasus.”
Julian shook his head. “Why is that everyone’s knee-jerk reaction to – Well I’ll be damned. Another goddamn pegasus.”
Black wings spread wide, the majestic figure of a pegasus glided down from further along the Crescent toward their cages, toward Katherine’s cage.
Katherine pressed her face against the bars. “Darius!”
“Oh,” said Stacy. “You’re acquainted. That’s nice.”
Darius flew up to Katherine’s cage and held as steady as a flying horse was able.
Katherine stroked his cheek. “You came to rescue me?”
Darius neighed and jerked his head sideways.
“Back in the bag, Butterbean.” Butterbean, for once, seemed more than happy to comply as she pulled the Bag of Holding down over his head.
Gambling her life on being able to interpret pegasus gestures, Katherine reached around his neck and climbed onto his back.
“I’m going to get Tim’s body!” Katherine shouted to everyone.
Dave stood up and grabbed the bars of his cage. “Could you maybe let us out first?”
“I’ll be right back!” Katherine hugged Darius around the neck. “Take me down.”
Chapter 33
“I can’t go on no more, Randy! Just go on without me. Leave me here to die.”
“You ain’t going nowhere anyway,” said Randy. “Basil’s doing all the work. What difference does it make if you sit on his back or sit on the ground?”
Basil wasn’t looking much better than Denise claimed to feel. For an eight-legged lizard, he wasn’t a fast mover, but he seemed even more sluggish than before. Randy had healed him as much as he could, but wasn’t able to bring his eyes back. He was getting skinnier too.
“I just can’t take it no more. I got these little monsters crawlin’ around inside me. I can feel their pincers ready to tear me apart from the inside.”
“It’s only been a couple of days. I don’t think their pincers are developed yet. You’re just dehydrated is all.”
“Then why don’t you give me some goddamn water?”
Randy understood Denise’s temptation. He wanted nothing more than to guzzle what remained of their water supply right then and there. He’d wrapped his pants around his head like a turban to soak up his sweat, and he was running out of sweat to soak.
“We need to conserve what little water we got. We don’t know how much farther we got to walk. Finish those grapes, then I’ll give you some more water.”
“I can’t eat another fuckin’ grape that tastes like my own piss. I got special needs now, Randy. I’m having hot flashes and menopauses and shit. Without medical attention, I’m gonna die.”
“I’m doing my best, Denise. Just as soon as we get back to town, I’ll take you to a healer.”
“I don’t need no fuckin’ Crusades-era witch doctor. I need a goddamn OBJIM.”
“Objim?”
“I need ultrasounds and pap smears and epidermals.”
“Epidermals?”
“I got eight fuckin’ scorpion babies inside me! You best believe I’m gonna be pumped full of drugs when they’re ready to –” Denise leaned over and vomited down one of Basil’s right middle legs. When it touched the ground, a small plant sprouted up and produced a single jalapeno pepper. For some reason, this prompted Denise to start sobbing.
One puke-flavored pepper between Randy, Denise, and Basil wasn’t going to stave off starvation, and something about it had triggered Denise, so Randy decided to let that one go and continue leading Basil across the desert.
“You all right, Denise?”
Denise choked back her sobbing. “Yeah, I just got sand in my eyes is all. Let’s talk about something else.”
That sounded just fine to Randy. He’d heard as much of Denise’s unfamiliarity with gynecology as he could take. “I’m worried about Basil. He ain’t ate nothing since Azhar. You complain about the pee grapes, but I can’t hardly taste the pee in them. I wouldn’t think a basilisk would be so picky.”
“This here beast’s a carnivore. He don’t want no grapes, piss or otherwise. He needs meat.”
“Oh, so now I s’pose you’re an expert on fantasy wildlife as well. How do you know he’s a carnivore?”
“‘Cause he ain’t eatin’ the goddamn piss grapes!”
Randy frowned. Denise made a good point. “I’m sorry, Denise. My tone was out of line. The desert’s starting to mess with my head, making me irritable.”
“You ain’t gotta tell me. If I never set foot in another desert, it’ll be too fuckin’ soon.”
“I’m worried about you, and Basil. And I’m worried on account of what if we been walking in the wrong direction all this time?”
“You ain’t got to worry ‘bout that,” said Denise. She sounded more confident than her previous reasoning should have accounted for.
�
�I ain’t trying to get an attitude with you again, but what makes you so sure we’re going the right way.”
Denise shrugged. “I ain’t. But if we start backtracking now, we’ll die long before we get back to where we started. If we made a mistake, it’s one we got to stay committed to.”
That sounded like a philosophy Dennis had followed throughout his whole life. While Randy questioned that logic in most circumstances, it made sense in this case. There was no point in worrying about things they had no control over. Randy decided to turn the conversation in a more optimistic direction.
“What’s the first thing you want to do when we get back to civilization?”
“I’m gonna drink the Whore’s Head Inn dry as a fuckin’ bone for starters.”
Randy frowned. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, considering your condition and all.”
“Bullshit,” said Denise. “My mamma was drunk as a rat in a gin bottle all through her pregnancy with me, and I turned out just fine.”
Randy kept his thoughts on that to himself. “I think being a mom might do you some good.”
“Jesus Christ, Randy. Don’t say shit like that. I thought we was gonna talk about something other than –”
A sound like the crack of a bullwhip echoed down from the sky as a sudden gust of wind blew dirt into Randy’s eyes. When he could see again, there was something in the sky to the east that hadn’t been there before. It looked like a flying island. The bottom was rough and rocky, but Randy could make out trees and structures on top of it.
“What is that?” said Randy.
“I don’t give a good god damn what it is,” said Denise. “It’s something other than desert, and that’s good enough for me. Get this future luggage set moving.”
Randy stroked the loosening dry skin on the basilisk’s shoulder. “Come on, Basil. There’s something up ahead. We might find you something you can eat.”
Basil groaned and kept plodding forward. At the rate they were moving, the floating island didn’t seem to be getting any closer. But they must have been, because after a while, Randy thought he could see something beyond the island through the desert haze.
“Denise! I think that’s a village up ahead!”
“Sweet.” Denise was clearly still more interested in the flying island.
Randy tried to focus on the village, but it was really hazy. He had a sudden worrying thought. “Say, what if this is just another mirage?”
“Clear the shit out your brain, Randy. When folks hallucinate in the desert, they see palm trees and oasises and shimmering pools of water. Or maybe they see their traveling companion turn into a fried chicken leg or some shit. They don’t see nothin’ like this.”
“But what if it ain’t a real mirage. What if it’s another magic one, and there’s more scorpion people trying to lure us in?”
“Then we’d be seeing something more along the lines of a refrigerator full of beer, or big-tittied hookers or something. Ain’t no point in tricking us into seeing a giant goddamn island in the sky. We might just as soon run away from it for all they know.”
A few seconds later, a massive beanstalk exploded out of the ground, the tip of which was gunning straight for the island.
“On second thought,” said Denise. “Maybe we are hallucinating. That’s fee-fi-fo-fucked up.”
The stalk grew and grew like it was giving all it had to give to reach that island in the sky. But it wasn’t quite enough. The desert floor bloomed with all manner of colorful flora around the base of the stalk as it started to wilt.
Then a few minutes later, having got a second wind or something, it shot straight up again. The top of the stalk grow closer and closer to the island.
It was too far away for Randy to tell if it touched the island or not, but a few minutes later it started to fall away. Slowly at first, then faster and faster and –
“Oh shit,” said Denise as the shadow of the stalk covered them.
“Come on, Basil!” cried Randy. “Move! Move! Move!”
Basil followed Randy’s change in direction, but didn’t move any faster.
“FUUUUUUUUU–”
Denise was cut off with an earth-shaking crash and a splatter of lima bean green. She’d been hit with a pod.
“Denise!” cried Randy. “Are you okay?”
The pod split open. The beans inside it had liquefied on impact. Denise was covered in green goop, which flowed out of the pod onto Basil.
“No, I’m not fucking okay. I feel like I just got bukakked by a room full of Jolly Green fuckin’ Giants.” She spat out liquid bean and wiped it out of her eyes, then tore away the husk of the pod.
They followed the fallen stalk. As they got closer to the base, the village beyond it became clearer through the desert haze. It was real, all right. They’d done it. They were going to survive.
“We’re almost there, Basil,” said Randy. “You just hang on a little longer and we’ll find you a chicken or a rat or something.”
“Randy,” said Denise. “I don’t feel so good.”
“Come on, Denise. Hold it together. Don’t you go having no scorpion babies out here in the desert. We’re almost there.”
“It ain’t that. I think I just gotta take a shit is all. I ain’t had this much fruit in a while, and them piss grapes is doing a number on my insides.”
“I reckon we can make it there in under an hour at the pace we’re going. You sure you don’t want to hold it?”
“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ sure. It’s not like they gonna have any finer facilities in that shithole village than I got out here. There’s enough leaves on this goddamn beanstalk to wipe an army’s worth of asses.”
“That’s true enough. All right. Go take care of business.”
“Well thank you for the permission, your holiness.” Denise slid down off Basil’s back and waddled quickly over to the stalk, pushing her ass cheeks together with her hands. She hadn’t been fooling around about needing to go. She stopped when she passed a giant bean pod, much like the one that had landed on her. After a moment of staring at it, she leaned over it and plunged a fist through the top.
“Come on, Denise,” said Randy. “One bean pod falls on your head, and now you wanna take it out on all of them? We gotta get you and Basil to town.”
“I’m using my head for something other than cock storage. You might want to give that a try some day.” Denise shoved her arm elbow deep into the top of the bean pod and wiggled it around. It didn’t look particularly violent, but Randy had no idea what she was up to.
When she was done with whatever she was doing, Denise pulled her arm out of the pod and smiled, satisfied at her handiwork. “Now take a look at that. A nice cushioned toilet. I reckon there’s no better place in this whole godforsaken world to drop your little brown babies in the well.”
Randy put his hands on his hips. “What’d I tell you about that racist talk. Just because you’re pregnant don’t mean I’ll –”
“The fuck you talking about? I was just talking about taking a shit. If you wanna make something racial out of that, maybe that says more about you than it does me. You ever think of that, Saint Randy?”
“Just hurry it up. I’d like to get to the village before dark.”
“I don’t need an audience. Why don’t you go pick some fruit or something?”
Once again, Denise made a solid point. This wasn’t something Randy cared to witness. And though many of the plants had withered during their walk, there were still quite a number of shrubs and small trees this close to the base of the stalk, bearing ripe fruits in a variety of shapes and colors. Randy left Basil’s side and sought out fruits he’d never seen or tasted before.
If Denise was shy about being watched, she wasn’t so much about being heard. No amount of humming to himself could drown out her grunts and groans, or the gushing splatter of shit into hollowed bean pod in prolonged bursts between deep breaths. Those piss grapes really had done a number on her insides.
&nb
sp; When she made a sound like a screaming horse, Randy grew concerned. Piss grapes or no piss grapes, that just wasn’t normal.
“Denise? Are you o–”
“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!” screamed Denise.
Randy had turned around just in time to see Denise leaping off her makeshift toilet as an actual horse smashed into it from above. The pod exploded its green and brown liquid contents all over Denise, who appeared otherwise unharmed. The horse, on the other hand, disappeared on impact.
“Denise?”
Denise spat out a cocktail of liquefied bean and shit. “Not a fuckin’ word, Randy. Not a goddamn fuckin’ word. Just go about your business and let me clean myself off.”
Randy nodded and turned around, focusing harder than ever on his search for indigenous fruits while Denise started sobbing again. Sometimes a person just needs time to be alone. He’d be there for her if she needed to talk about it. That was the best he could do.
A few minutes later, while Randy was examining something that looked like a purple artichoke, he was distracted by a distant thud, like something else had fallen from the flying island above them. It sounded too small to be another horse, but Randy would feel safer once they got out from underneath the island.
He didn’t bother asking if Denise was okay. She was still crying, but it was consistent with the crying she’d been doing before he heard the sound.
Scanning the area where he thought he’d heard the noise, Randy didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, except that Basil appeared to have found something to eat. Maybe he was an omnivore after all, and just didn’t care for the taste of piss grapes.
Randy frowned at an alternative theory that popped into his head. Maybe he’d grown so hungry that he was now eating things his body wasn’t meant to digest. Given Denise’s gastrointestinal issues with grapes, Randy feared Basil might shit himself to death.
“Hey buddy,” said Randy as he approached. Basil was friendly toward him, but he was still a man-eating monster, a blind man-eating monster, so it was prudent to stay calm and give him plenty of warning that he was nearby. “What do you got there? Did you find something you like? A pumpkin? Or an avocado? Maybe a – Oh, dear God.” When Randy got close enough to see what Basil was eating, all that remained of it was a forearm and a hand lying on a large cabbage leaf. A child’s forearm and hand. Before he had time to react, Basil scooped up the poor child’s final remains and swallowed.
