by HP Mallory
The other big asshole took a step forward. “The master won’t like this.”
The new guy just silently cocked the hammer of his gun with an expression like Clint Easterwood in one of them space movies. Ya know what I mean, the real smooth, slick dude who kills all the bad bastards before blowin’ the smoke off his space gun.
“I’ve got five more slugs for any of you assturds who has a problem with this,” he said all nice and calm, and his voice was every bit as ugly and gratin’ as his face.
When I heard him say the word “assturd,” I knew he was one of my people.
The unlucky Retriever didn’t dare move. Seein’ how his head was tilted, he couldn’t take his eyes off that gun. Come to think of it, neither could the greater assholes. Only Blindfold seemed okay and rex-laxed, even smilin’ a little at the scene he couldn’t actually see.
After a minute of nothing happenin’, Ugly uncocked the gun and nodded. “I don’t care what you’re used to. I don’t care what Alaire let you get away with. As long as you’re under my command, you will do exactly as you’re told. Otherwise…”
Hmm, maybe he weren’t one of my people seein’ how he just admitted bein’ in charge o’ these ugly fuckers. Still, the dude had a good grasp of vocab. He gave the fresh corpse a swift kick and it made a pulpy, sticky sound while the imps winced.
“Now get out of my sight!” Ugly roared, pointing his gun at the door. I’ll say this for the assholes… they got the hint. Those fugly demons couldn’t get outta that garage fast enough.
Once the last of them shot out the door, the sap sighed and whimpered, “Than-thank you, sir.”
Ugly’s face didn’t soften up one iot-inch as he glared down at the dude. He just nodded and stretched out his free hand. The sap took it and Ugly got him onto his feet.
“Can you walk?” Ugly growled. I didn’t think the sucker could but he hobbled forward a bit and nodded.
“All right, then,” Ugly grumbled, guidin’ him over to a chair. “Give me a minute and I’ll get you to a medic.”
Now I was beyond confused. It seemed Ugly was in charge of the greater imps yet he was bein’ nice to this guy? Something wasn’t addin’ up. Deep in the basement of my soul, I got a feelin’ this guy was aces. I mean, it ain’t everyday you comes across a dude who uses the word assturd.
“Y-yes, sir,” the sap said as he sat down. He practically fell over the chair like a wet dish towel.
Blindfold took that moment to speak up while usin’ one of his hands ta lift the car. “I should have done more.” I figured he’d growl like Ugly but he sounded more like Nerdlet without bein’ girly.
“What more you could have done, Pol, I personally fail to see,” Ugly replied, sheathin’ that big, iron weapon into a hip holster. Then he looked a little ass-shamed of himself. “No offense to you, of course.”
Blindfold sighed while turnin’ around to reach under the car. “Why be offended by the truth, General? Maybe if I saw the truth in Odysseus and his bravado crew, I might still have my eye.”
“And even without his eye, Polythemus, as a Cyclops, is still one of the most dangerous troopers in this billet,” General Ugly replied, walkin’ real carefully around all the spare engine parts.
My eyebrows rose up in surprise when I realized the identifiety o’ this gigantic Mr. Potato-Head dude. He was really ancient if what he was talkin’ about were true—all that Odiss shit.
As much fun as I had pickin’ up Alaire’s camp gossip, I debated if maybe I oughta motorate myself to the nearest escape hatch. The only one I saw was a screwed-in grate over Pol’s left shoulder. It even had a handy pile o’ dirty rags underneath it. I knew I needed to wait patiently but I had ta fight the urge ta yell at them ta hurry the fuck up.
While Blindfold grabbed another part from the pile in front of him, he grunted. “So dangerous that he had to use his cell phone to call for help… it would have been a lot different if I could still see.”
General Ugly grunted and shrugged. “No point in wishing things were different… They are what they are. You called me and I came… not much more to say now.”
After snappin’ whatever part he had inta the car, Pol lifted up his nose and started sniffin’ around. Swear to God, those nos-trails were wide as train tunnels. “Are you sure our prisoner will not bleed to death while we talk? I smell quite a lot of his blood.”
Ugly looked over his shoulder at the sap who was breathin’ heavy but I could tell he was a long way from dead. “He’ll keep for a minute. How’s our girl coming along?”
While Ugly asked that, he patted that car’s rear like it was his favorite hooker. Pol’s grunt this time sounded a bit more frus-strikin’. “Slow… a lot slower than I prefer. We both know how hard the cold can be in the Asylum when it comes to machinery. This time was sadly no exception.”
Oh shit, I thought to myself. Alaire sent Tido to the lowest, most fucked-up part of the Underground City? And here I thought I got the rawest deal with my one-way Birdbrain ticket from the castle. I worried for Conan. I couldn’t help it. Dude and I mighta had our disagreements and he held the world’s record for worst cook ever, but we was still homies.
And if there was one thing about good ol’ angel Bill, besides my Jackintosh computer that was dedicated purely to porn, it was that I wouldn’t leave a friend behind.
“Do fortune as she list…”
- Dante’s Inferno
TWENTY-SIX
Bill
“The good news is I should be able to get the engine running again in a few minutes,” Pol said, lettin’ his free hand navi-gut the car. “The bad news is that she likely only has one more trip in her after that. I’ll be amazed if she makes the journey to the Toy Store, let alone, out of the Underground City altogether.”
Well, weren’t that an interestin’ as hell nugget? Only reason a vehicle like that would hafta scoot out o’ the Underground was if it were goin’ back to AE. And assumising these two were on Alaire’s payroll, that probably meant an inside guy musta provided the car, keepin’ it completely off the books. Poly and Sally would be thrilled to hear all about that.
“Well, putting that aside,” Ugly said with a sigh, “shall I assume that the AE tracker has already been reactivated?”
Blindfold put the car down and nodded. “I turned that back on as soon as it entered the workshop.”
“Is the guidance system ready to go?”
“I finished that one before the imps—” Blindfold took a minute to spit out one impressive-looking loogy on the rags— “decided to show up for their depraved festivities. The only thing left to do now is erase the trip data.”
He put his big hands on the parts still around him. “Truth be told, I would much rather spend the time needed to accomplish that if only to guarantee that this vehicle can actually go the full distance.”
Ugly took a breath and looked up at the ceiling. “Ours is not to reason why, Pol… the orders from HQ were crystal clear. She needs to be operational and clean by 0500 hours.”
Blindfold picked up another part and the car. “And that much, at least, I can guarantee, General. Now, if I may make a personal request, could you see to that poor boy we just saved?”
No way Blindfold could have seen General Ugly’s nod. But I figured the grunt he gave with it filled in the blanks. Ugly was halfway to his prisoner when Pol called out, “General Patton, sir?”
Ugly stopped dead in his tracks. So did my thought process. General Patton? What the fuck? I’m no good at history ‘cause I’ve never been in history class, bein’ as how I’m an angel and all. But I also ain’t no dumbass. And I like a good war documentary just as much as the next beer-drinkin’, woman huntin’ dude.
So, yeah, was I lookin’ at the General George S. Patton, Old Blood and Guts, himself?
“Permission to ask one last question?” Blindfold went on.
Patton was walkin’ towards the Retriever. After he helped the sap outta his chair, he said, “You’ll always have that
right with me, Pol.”
“Are we sure that we’re on the right side?”
The sap groaned a little as Old Blood and Guts slung the guy’s arm over his neck. Thought I saw something close to sad crossin’ the old warmonger’s face. “I don’t suppose it matters now. We’re stuck with the side we chose… or else.”
Then he looked over at his prisoner. “C’mon, son. Let’s get you patched up.”
The sap said something undecipherable before he let the general take him out o’ the room. The way things looked, it was about as empty as this joint could ever get. Big Pol not bein’ able to see mighta given me an edge but I still had to be a lot more careful than I’d been so far.
I pulled back a little to see if there were any other way out. The grate still looked like the one and only route-tation I had. So I did my best snake—scratch that, Solid Snake—impersonation by slitherin’ my way up the vent shaft past my watchin’ grate.
Away from the light, it got dark in a hurry. I was half-tempted to pour out my inner light to see where I was goin’. But who the hell knew what else might pop up just in time for the light show? So I played it cool, makin’ my way around strictly by feelin’. Once I turned the corner, the orange light was back in front of me.
Reachin’ that grate took me about half as long as it did to go down the first stretch o’ the shaft. When I got there, I found myself behind Poly Boy, who was busy liftin’ and tinkerin’ with the car. I felt the screws that held the grate up with my fingers. They were a lot more solid than the grate upstairs but not so tight that I couldn’t unscrew ‘em from this end. I synchronizated my work with the repairs the big guy was doin’ to cover my noise. Every time he stopped bangin’ around, I stopped workin’ the screw out. Every time he started workin’ again, so did I.
The grate fell open when I got the top left corner screw off. I stopped before it scraped too much but Pol still lifted up his head. I didn’t dare breathe while he sniffed around. A couple of eternalized minutes later, he went back to workin’ on the car and I let out my air real quiet. I took a quick peek down at the rag pile. It looked big enough to catch the cover without any bang-bang. Usin’ one hand to hold the cover steady, I used my other one to take the last screw out.
When the screw fell, I let go of the grate. It made a real soft landin’. I grabbed either side of the openin’ and yanked myself out. A cotton basketball woulda made more noise than me hittin’ the rags. Only downside was doin’ a faceplant in a loogy.
Okay, I was in the shop. Now what? I knew Conan got shipped to the Asylum but goin’ there was tricky. Only plan I could think of was jackin’ the car before the Ghoulie Gray Giant finished wipin’ out that trip data—trip data that would navigate my ass back to Tido. And yeah, the trip back mighta been a chore. But that didn’t matter if I couldn’t get there to begin with.
I did the tiptoe routine towards the car. The driver’s side door was open a crack and Pol set the car down in between grabbin’ parts. I just needed to time it right. Every inch I got closer to the big guy, another three drops of fear-sweat popped out on my forehead. But he kept workin’ so I kept creepin’.
I just got next to the driver’s side door when Blindfold’s free hand grabbed me by the neck and yanked me up. I yelped for a second before starin’ at his big, ugly mug. I was scared like I ain’t never been before and I didn’t know what else ta do so I farted.
“Jesus!” Pol thundered as he shook his head and tried to hold his breath. But even though he looked offended, I still had post-fartum depression ‘cause that was like the mambo of all farts, laced with loads of fear so you just know how freakin’ bad the stench was.
“I was wondering when you would decide to come out of your hole, little rat,” he grumbled at me. “Every tiny movement you’ve made since your crash landing has been known to me.”
“Oh, I’m a little rat?” I spat back at him. “At least, I’m not some big, ugly, blind—”
That’s when his other hand clamped down on my mouth like a vise. “My ears are still ringing from the general’s gunshot,” he said. “I do not need your pathetic squeaking to make it worse.”
Looks like he forgot that rats got sharp teeth, I thought as I gnawbled on the hand over my mouth. It was like chewin’ through a diamond, and I had ta stop before I broke one o’ my teeth. One perk AE failed to cover was dental insurance. Assholes!
“If you are done trying to make yourself more of a threat than you actually are, rat,” Pol growled at me as he brought me closer, “let us determine what species of vermin you truly belong to.”
That one set me off. Enough to yell a lot of things through his hand that prolly woulda gotten me killed if he coulda understood ‘em. Those wind tunnel nos-trails sniffed me up and down like a hound dog on a prime rib. Then he pulled back and said, “An angel… an incredibly filthy angel but we shall ignore that for now.”
That got me quiet. Maybe he was about to cut me loose?
After puttin’ a little distance between us, he added, “No angel comes to Dis by choice. Nor has any of your kind ever done me true harm. So… let’s make a simple deal. I remove the hand I have over your mouth, you tell me why you are here.”
Knowin’ he’d be able to feel it, I nodded under the hand. As soon as he pulled it off, I blurted out, “That car youse workin’ on, yo? It took somebody who’s important to somebody who’s important to me down to the Asylum.”
His frown didn’t look like a good sign. “Say again?”
Hell with it… maybe the name would get me killed. But this dude looked like he wouldn’t settle for anything less than the truth. “Tallis Black… that’s who was in the car and now Conan is freakin’ in the Asylum, yo! The Asylum!”
He yanked me back to him so fast, I got serious whiplash. This time, he was grindin’ me under that big, ugly nose of his. “The Tallis Black?”
“Umm, the one I know lives in the Dark Wood, dresses in a kilt, barely speaks English as a second language, and is roughly your size only I’d rather be prison gay with him than with you.” I frowned. “No offense.”
The big brute pushed me back a lot more slowly. “You missed one important detail in your description, rat angel…”
“What?”
“That Black was also the former Master of the Underground City.”
My turn to be confused. “Big Ugly says what?”
A shit-eatin’ grin popped up on the bastard’s face. “You didn’t know?”
Not every situation calls for a quip-lash. “No, and I ain’t exactly the type ta believe shit that comes from huge dudes I ain’t never met before.”
“Well, believe it because it’s the truth.” Big Pol’s face let his smile die down and got real thoughtful. “When Black ruled here, one of the first things he did was give me back my eye. I told him how grateful I was for that, even though I could work at my craft without it. I still remember his answer…” He switched over to Conan’s thick-as-haggis accent. “An’ whit wonders could ye build if’n ye had yer eye ta guide ye?”
“Yeah, that sounds like Tido, all right.” I wanted to say something snappier but my brain was still tryin’ to get over the whole ‘Tido used ta have Alaire’s job’ bombshell.
The big guy’s face got angry, makin’ me wonder if I just insulted his lord and savior. “Unfortunately for me, we were not alone when he told me this. For a man in his position, that would have been impossible. But scarcely a day goes by since Alaire took power when I do not seriously regret that he heard our entire exchange.” He tapped his blindfold. “Restoring me to my ‘natural state,’ as he called it, was one of the first things he did after assuming control.”
“Yo, that’s unexcusable bro-pravity,” I told him, really feelin’ for the guy. Sure, he was a big, ugly giant that coulda probably eaten me in like one swallow but still.
“I assume you are attempting to reach Tallis for the purpose of setting him free?” Pol asked while stickin’ me in the driver’s seat.
“Ye
ah,” I said. “Look, it’s complicated, yo. See, I need Conan—”
“Conan?”
“Yeah, it’s, uh, what I call Tallis. Tido too, but, yo, youse already knew that.”
“What I still do not know is your primary goal.”
The big guy was brave enough ta share his truth. Least I could do was share mine. “My girl, my like biggest BFF in the whole world is currently stuck playin’ with Alaire’s balls for like eternity. I failed my girl once, Polly-boy, an’ I ain’t gonna fail her agin.”
“What’s that have to do with Black?”
“Well, I’m gettin’ to that part, yo. Tido happens ta love this chick as much as I do an’ he wants ta save her from Alaire’s balls as much as I do too. Seein’ as how he’s like five times the man I am, I gots ta break him outta this shithole so’s we can save my bestie. Namsay?”
“Namsay?”
“Know. What. I. Am. Saying?” I finished for him.
“I believe so,” Pol answered thoughtfully. “You wish to free Tallis Black.”
“Yes.”
While we chatted away, his hands never stopped movin’. I could hear him puttin’ more of those parts back in the car. “I know you heard me tell the general where this car has been.”
“And I gotta figure you know it went to the castle out back first,” I replied. “So, twixt the both o’ us, we gotta assume that Alaire’s probably stuck Conan down in Caesar’s Ice Palace.”
“The one place in which he could never make a hasty exit,” Pol replied. I wasn’t sure, but it sounded like he was snappin’ in those parts faster. “I am uncertain what good a rat angel like you can do—”
