Now what? Where to focus his search? There was no use attempting to track Luminita, to follow her trail and hope she would lead him to Necrosia. The devil himself couldn’t find that wretch when she wanted to remain unseen. No, chasing about for ghosts would do him no good. The key would be figuring out where the Cyclops intended to take her, and waiting for them to arrive. So where could that be? There were thousands of places they could hide, but all of these would be nothing more than temporary measures. Ultimately, the only truly safe location for the woman would be UEL headquarters. That would be their ultimate goal. And as for making this particular journey, there existed only a handful of resources to reach that destination from the North American continent. So that would mean …. Vasile laughed aloud to himself. But of course. The answer couldn’t be more obvious. Necrosia was as good as his.
Chapter 15- Filling In
“Sunshine, good morning! Up now. Up now! Fabio is hungry.”
“Moody doesn’t give a damn, sunshine.” The hunchback pulled her blanket tightly over her head.
“Hunchy-flower gets up. You are food maker for Fabio. Fabio starving. Famishing. Cook is job. Up, up, up. Helpers for Fabio you are until reaching great big UEL.” The goblin began tugging at Moody’s covering.
“What the hell?” Moody growled as the blanket pulled away to reveal Fabio standing next to her makeshift bed. “Oh jeez. Put some freaking clothes on. What the hell is wrong with you? That’s disgusting.”
Fabio stood wearing nothing but a bright red pair of skivvies, his saggy, plump body exposed for all to admire. “Not disgusting. The womens love to see Fabio, dream to stare at Fabio’s beauties. My hunchy-flower no difference. Now come do cook job.”
“I’m not doing a damn thing until you put some clothes on, you little pervert.”
“Is Fabio’s home. Fabio wear what he choosing.”
“And Fabio can starve to death in his home for all I care. Put on some damn clothes.”
“Fabio’s spicing hunchy-flower more beauties when angry. Almost as beauties as Fabio.” The goblin ran his long fingers through his golden hair and gave his head a toss for good measure. “Okay, Fabio get robe. Now Moody-flower make breakfast.”
“Fine. Fine. Just get the hell away from me.” Moody hopped off the couch she had slept on and threw her blankets on the floor with a grunt. She then walked over to a lifeless form lying atop an adjacent loveseat and began shoving it roughly. “If I have to be up, then so do you, little man.”
Alex knew better than to argue with the hunchback and slithered out of his blanket cocoon without a word. Aside from the fact that Moody would have begun jumping on his head if he didn’t get up, Hammett made it perfectly clear that posing as Fabio’s entourage wasn’t just a title, but would include performing whatever tasks the goblin typically requested of his ensemble. And the hard-nosed inspector was one character he intended never to cross. “And what about Serene?” Alex asked as Moody began trudging toward the next compartment. The inventor lay sprawled out on the largest couch, mouth opened wide, sleep mask tightly welded over her eyes. “She’s supposed to help out, too.”
Moody snorted. “Serene couldn’t make toast to save her life. And I’ll make out with a goblin before I let her anywhere near my kitchen. Don’t worry; I’m sure the “one-eyed tyrant” will find plenty for her to do today.”
The compartment next to the one they had slept in happened to be the kitchen. While certainly not the greatest workspace Moody had ever cooked in, Fabio’s mobile kitchen was well stocked and efficient. Within minutes the hunchback had coffee brewing, bacon sizzling (Alex assumed it to be bacon, but you never knew), sliced bread to be toasted and a large omelet coming together from a mishmash of items Moody plucked from the refrigerator. Moody set Alex up with a knife and cutting board, happily dicing vegetables to be added to her creation. It felt good to be in here, seeing his friend in her element, sipping coffee and bantering. For the moment, it was as though Alex were living a normal life again, content to go about his work, enjoying the simple pleasures, savoring the moment. There was nothing significant or exciting about any of it, and he loved every minute of it.
“Smelling delectables!” Fabio waddled into the kitchen, a silk yellow robe draped around him loosely and a mass of wiry chest hair protruding. “Hunchy-flower does good cook. Moody-love having beauty and talent … like Fabio.”
“Don’t you have somewhere else to go?” Moody growled over her shoulder as she turned the bacon.
“No. Fabio visit, discourse company.” The goblin helped himself to a mug of coffee, then pulled out a bottle from the fridge, pouring a thick green liquid into it which frothed and sizzled. “Alice-boy cook also?”
“Oh, not really. I just do whatever Moody tells me to do. In the kitchen she’s the boss.”
“Damn right. Get back to chopping that onion.” Moody elbowed Alex in the side.
“Anyway,” Alex continued, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something … if you don’t mind.”
“Ask, ask.” Fabio sat himself at a breakfast table in a corner of the kitchen, only large enough for two chairs.
“Well, I don’t know too many goblins, but all of the ones I’ve met … well, they can’t talk. I mean, they can talk, but … you know … only in your … goblin language.”
“Yes, truth, truth. Goblin no good at speaking man talk. Long tongues give trouble.”
“So how can you do it, then?”
“Fabio not like other goblin. Fabio special. Fabio speak good. Yes.”
“Yeah, you’re special all right,” Moody added with a snort.
“I see. I was wondering another thing, too. Since you’re … a celebrity—”
“Fabio most famous. Fabio loved wide world! Especially the womens.”
“Right … um, don’t you have security or bodyguards or something like that? To keep the weirdos and stalkers away?”
“Yes, yes. Fabio have strong bodyguard, but he leaving because of Necrosia lady. Hammett Cyclops bodyguard until reaching home UEL.”
“Well, that makes sense. And what about this … mobile home thing we’re in now? How do you keep people from trying to break in, or hang around?”
“Quiet man operating. Great magics keep safe.”
“Not to argue,” Hammett walked in, “but Fabio’s trailer is in actuality equipped with state-of-the-art barrier and defense technology. In fact, you might be standing in one of the safest locations in the entire world. It’s a shame we can’t simply drive this vehicle straight to UEL headquarters.”
“Powerful great magic, yes. Fabio safe. Alice-boy safe. No worries.”
“And why can’t we drive there?” Alex asked the Cyclops. “Or at least remain inside this thing while the vehicle is transported to where we’re going?”
“Vehicles of this size are not allowed within UEL headquarters.”
“Pig bastards!” Fabio snarled in protest, then sipped from his frothy, green coffee.
“Such are the rules, nonetheless. To request an exception might take weeks, which would typically be denied. Given our circumstances, we could force an approval, of course, but in the process would draw an unseemly amount of attention … not to mention waste a great deal of precious time. Ultimately, this is all a moot point. As I mentioned before, all contact with UEL headquarters has been terminated, and I’m not about to risk opening a channel again until we’re safe inside. Nobody knows where we are, and I intend to keep it that way.”
“All right, breakfast is about done,” Moody spoke up loudly. “I don’t want to hear any more of this crap while I’m eating. I’m going to enjoy this morning, and to hell with the UEL, Serene, the CN or anything else along those lines. You either change the subject or go eat somewhere else. And if you don’t like that I’ll shove this spatula where the sun don’t shine. Got it?”
Hammett laughed, genuinely amused by Moody’s spunk. “I think that’s fair enough. I trust you made enough for me to have a plate?”
Following breakfast,
Fabio returned to his private room and dressed himself. The goblin wished to make one more appearance near the center of the town before departing, as well as to say goodbye to the “loverly womens of Eville.” Hammett escorted the singer, serving as his bodyguard, and a peaceful quiet settled in the vehicle, broken only by the occasional snoring emanating from Serene in the adjacent compartment. After cleaning the kitchen, Alex piled the breakfast leftovers on a plate and worked his way toward the front of Fabio’s trailer. At the head of the vehicle he discovered Vega lounging in the driver’s seat, appearing exceptionally tired. The control console looked every bit as complicated as a commercial airplane’s cockpit, containing countless buttons, dials, levers and gauges. The Spaniard was most grateful for the refreshment, and Alex sat and visited with the detective for a moment. “Visit” might be too strong a word, considering their limited ability to communicate with one another, but Alex did a fine job of asking questions and making comments that Vega could reply to with a simple nod or shake of the head.
The Cyclops and goblin returned an hour after their departure. Fabio retired to his quarters on the second level of the trailer for “beauties sleep” and Hammett gave the “go ahead” to depart. Vega activated the vehicle’s engines and within minutes they were on the road again, only this time in more comfort than they had ever been since leaving Eville the first time.
“I believe it is time for our dear Serene to emerge from her slumber,” Hammett announced with a mischievous grin.
“This should be interesting,” Alex commented. “She helped herself to a rather generous amount of Sinner’s Muse last night. Who knows when she’ll wake up.”
“We’ll just see about that. Necrosia! Hey, Necrosia!” Hammett jabbed his finger in the lifeless woman’s side. If not for her snoring one might assume she no longer resided amongst the living. “Time to wake up. Hello? Is there anybody in there?” Not so much as a twitch from the inventor.
“I’d be happy to fetch a pitcher of ice water,” Moody recommended in earnest.
“Oh, that’s quite all right, Moody. I don’t believe that shall be necessary. Besides, I doubt Fabio would appreciate the mess. I believe this shall suffice.” Hammett reached over to Serene’s sleeping mask, pulled it a good six inches away from her face and smiled at the mask’s taught elastic band. He held it for a few moments for dramatic effect, and then a sharp snap signified the mask’s stinging return to its original position.
Serene let out a great screech, and with her legs flailing about, rolled off the couch onto the floor. “To arms! It’s an ambush! You’ll never take me alive, you damnable … ” Serene paused, let her limbs relax, and pulled the sleep mask up to her forehead, revealing a bright red mark around her nose and eyes. “You.” She spat the word out as her bloodshot eyes scanned the Cyclops standing next to her, tickled pink.
“Good morning!” Hammett said loudly.
“What in blazes do you want? Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?”
“Not anymore, you’re not. I have a number of chores for you to do today.”
“Chores?” The way Serene said it, it sounded as though she had no concept of the word.
“Yes, indeed. Fabio has provided a sizeable list of duties that his entourage handles … which now means you. Laundry needs washing, bathrooms need scrubbing and so much more.”
“You disturbed my precious sleep just to tell me this? That’s what Alex is for, you imbecile.” Serene crawled back onto her couch and draped herself in a blanket.
“Thanks. Glad to know I’m appreciated around here,” Alex muttered.
“Don’t worry, Alex will do plenty today as well. Now on your feet.”
“Bah! I don’t have to do any such thing! I am a Necrosia, lest you forget.”
The Cyclops knelt down and got right into the inventor’s face. He began to speak slowly, each word pounded out as if it were a commandment etched in stone. “You are going to get up right this instant. You will perform all of the duties you are assigned, and you will do so in earnest. You shall not utter a single word of complaint. You do not want to cross me, Necrosia. Is. That. Clear?”
Serene stared back defiantly for a span, and then slowly her features became less rebellious. “You don’t have to shout, you filthy brute.”
“Have I made myself clear?” Hammett pressed.
“Yes, yes. A clarion call, to be sure. Insufferable man. I shall supervise Quasimoody and ensure she performs her duties with aplomb.”
“That’s very funny. No, for today Moody will be supervising you.”
“Oh, hell yeah!” Moody squeaked. Alex burst into astonished laughter.
“You can’t be serious?” Serene rolled her eyes. The Cyclops said nothing in response. He didn’t need to. His eye said it all. “Very well, then. You think you can bully me, you one-eyed dictator? Don’t make me laugh. I’ll show you what a Necrosia is truly made of. Come, Quasimoody!” The inventor stood up, ripped the sleep mask off her head and thrust it roughly into the inspector’s chest. “There is work to be done. To the laundry room at once!”
“Glad to hear it,” Hammett replied.
“Oh my god,” Alex laughed. “I’d forfeit all of my back pay to have a camera and take pictures of Serene folding Fabio’s underwear.”
“That’s a thought. You know, I’d be surprised if Fabio didn’t have such a device around here somewhere. I’ll see what I can do.” With a satisfied chuckle Hammett slapped Alex on the shoulder playfully and followed after Serene and Moody.
Chapter 16- Snotwaddle’s Cylinder
Much to Alex’s amazement, Serene threw all of her efforts into completing the chores assigned to her, presumably in a defiant affront to Hammett. She even made sure to whistle loudly anytime the Cyclops popped in to check on things, as though she were a regular Mary Poppins. To be honest, seeing the woman tackle these duties with such enthusiasm and grace greatly took the fun out of the situation, but neither did anybody mind the welcome lack of conflict and the smoothness at which their work progressed. The chores ended up keeping the three fugitives occupied until late in the day, as there was not only a sizeable list to accomplish, but after Fabio came down from his nap, he insisted on following his new friends about, chatting up a storm and occasionally breaking out into toe-tapping song. He even attempted to seduce Moody with all of his charm set to full throttle as she cleaned the kitchen floor, which ended with her shoving the filthy, dripping mop into the goblin’s face and knocking him onto his backside. From that point on, he contented himself with pestering Serene and “Alice-boy” instead. Meanwhile, Hammett and Vega took turns driving the vehicle in shifts, determined to stop only once they had arrived at Andresholl Station.
In the evening Moody prepared a fantastic meal, as usual, and Serene took the opportunity to regale Fabio with legends of her many dubious exploits. Unfortunately, Fabio ate up her stories with relish, ensuring that Serene would keep at it for hours on end. Once Serene’s voice became hoarse from overuse, Fabio took the opportunity to teach his guests an old goblin love song, a warbling, bizarre piece that sounded as weird as one might expect from goblin culture. With her voice having recovered, and emboldened by the last of the Sinner’s Muse, Serene joined Fabio in a loud, off-key duet. This painful experience lasted for some time until Hammett came barging in, awakened from his sleeping shift, eye bloodshot from exhaustion, swearing profusely and threatening to strap the inventor to the vehicle’s undercarriage for the remainder of the journey. Everyone knew this to be an empty threat, but he did succeed in intimidating Serene and Fabio enough to quiet things down for the remainder of the evening.
Late the next morning Hammett gathered everyone together and announced that they had arrived at Andresholl Station, or to be more precise, the adjacent storage area where Fabio’s trailer would be stored during his stay at UEL headquarters. In the inspector’s hand were the three cylinders Snotwaddle had presented during their brief stay at his country mansion, his “solution” for getting the fugi
tives through security undetected.
“Listen up people. I’m only going to go over this once,” Hammett started, his voice even more stern and commanding than usual, “so you’d better damn well pay attention. It could very well mean your lives. From the moment we exit this vehicle, and until I say otherwise, I need all three of you to stick with Fabio like glue. As his entourage you are not to leave his side for any reason whatsoever. Do not go wandering about,” the Cyclops added, pointing his finger at Serene accusingly. Serene opened her mouth to speak, but Hammett quickly cut her off. “No exceptions. None. Keep your mouths shut, and speak only when directly asked a question.”
“What’s the bloody point in having these so-called brilliant disguises the dirty old prune concocted if all we are allowed to do is follow the goblin about and act like a pack of drooling imbeciles?” Serene asked with a huff. “You’ll positively adore Andresholl Station, dear boy,” she added with a nod to Alex, “it is like stepping into a cyclone of culture, a rapturous bombardment upon the senses. In particular, there is a darling little leprechaun pub I’m dying to take you—”
“Necrosia! Are you even listening to me?” Hammett stepped forward and glared at the inventor.
“I have heard each and every inane syllable to exit that wretched cavity you call a mouth.”
“You are posing as Fabio’s entourage and will play the part precisely as instructed. End of story. There will be no gawking at the ‘culture,’ no slipping off to any damned pubs or any other goblin-licking idiocy currently being fabricated in your twisted head!”
“You, sir, are a boor and decidedly lacking in grace and conversation skills. Furthermore, in case you weren’t fully aware before, I possess a great dislike for your lack of character.”
“Sons of harpies!” Hammett rubbed his face with the palm of his hand in exasperation. He swallowed a great breath of air and slowly expelled it through his nose, nostrils quivering in controlled rage. “Bottom line: We do not want to provide any reason to attract undue attention. Now … moving on … people will be focused on Fabio’s coming and going—”
The Eville Protection Plan Page 8
