by V. Moody
As I crept back down the tunnel, careful to make as little sound as possible, I thought over what I had heard. It seemed humans (from our group?) had been here and taken care of the other mice. These two had survived, somehow. Perhaps by hiding under the trap door. If there were only two of them left, we had a chance. I didn’t want to underestimate them. They might have abilities I wasn’t aware of, but I felt sure the five of us could defeat them if we hit them hard and fast.
I felt nervous but excited. As I neared the exit I started moving quicker, eager to get out of there and tell the others what I’d found. By the time I pushed past the bushes, I was running. I’d made it out alive!
The others saw me come out at full speed and immediately panicked, getting in each other’s way before stumbling into the water. I didn’t want to shout after them to stop in case it was heard from inside, so I chased them all the way back to the island.
33. Monster Hunter 1.0
Once I’d explained we weren’t in any immediate danger and they’d calmed down, I told them what I’d seen. I used a stick to draw a rough map in the ground, showing the layout.
“That’s it?” said Maurice. “Just five rooms?”
“There’s also whatever’s under the trap door. I figure the two of them used it to avoid being captured when the other mice were killed. If they have any treasure, that’s probably where they keep it. Of course, who knows what mice consider valuable? It could just be a big lump of cheese.”
“Actually,” said Dudley, “mice don’t really like cheese. Bread or even chocolate works better in traps. Their love of cheese is a myth.”
“Thank you for that, Dudley,” I said sarcastically. “Very interesting.”
“You’re very welcome,” replied Dudley with complete sincerity.
“So you want us to go in there and kill them,” said Claire. “While they’re having their dinner.”
“Yes. I told you what they said. They plan to attack humans as soon as reinforcements arrive—it’s not like they’re just minding their own business. I’m pretty sure the other groups have been through here and that’s how they got enough money together to leave Probet. Took all the weapons and whatever else they could sell. But if they didn’t know about the trap door, we might still get lucky.
“So what’s the plan?” asked Maurice.
“Very simple. Two of them, five of us. They won’t be prepared and we will be ruthless. It’s very important we don’t give them any sort of chance. Each of us will have a role and you have to do your part or we’ll end up being the ones getting killed.” I looked at Claire. “If you really don’t want to do this, then stay out here. If you go in, you have to stay focused on the objective and follow it through to the end, no matter what.” I looked around the group. “No matter what.”
They agreed and were convinced by me that we would be victorious. I, on the other hand, had some doubts.
Even though it seemed a fairly uneven match in our favour, you can never overlook the ability of an idiot to fuck things up. And I had four of them to contend with. Who am I kidding? Five, if you include me. I was just as likely to have a panic attack at exactly the wrong moment and cost us the win. But I thought back to Maurice and Dudley making sure not to get the sacks wet when they jumped in the water. They were capable of living up to expectations, even going beyond them, sometimes at least. I just hoped this was one of those times.
We made our way to the cave entrance, weapons ready. The plan was simple. We rush in, the girls would grab the female mouse and keep hold of her. They didn’t have to kill her, just keep her out of the picture while we dealt with the male. Maurice and Dudley would take an arm each, I would go in for the kill with my spike. Being able to talk made them superior beasts, which meant if I used my spike to kill one of them, I’d have completed my agreement with the blacksmith’s apprentice. The others didn’t know that, of course, they just thought I was willing to take on the burden of dealing the killing blow. Which I was.
We entered the tunnel and quickly moved to the other end. As arranged, the others hid in the openings, two on each side, while I sidled along the wall to make sure the mice were where they were supposed to be. They were sat around the fire with their backs to me. I signalled the others to come forward, ready to attack.
Okay, quick show of hands, who thinks things went according to plan, all nice and smooth? Nobody? Excellent, nice to see you’re starting to understand how my life works.
We charged in. As instructed, no one made a sound. No yelling or threats. Why alert them to our presence before we land the first hit? The girls jumped on the female and pinned her to the ground, squealing (all three of them).
Maurice rugby tackled the male but couldn’t keep hold of him, sending him skidding along the ground. He scrambled to get away but I managed to grab his foot and yank him back. Maurice and and Dudley threw themselves on an arm each. I took out my spike and closed in.
The mouse kicked and struggled violently, bucking to get free. His tail whipped around in a frenzy making it hard for me to strike. I grabbed the tail and pulled it aside and kneeled on the mouse’s stomach, hand raised with the spike pointed at his face. Its eyes darted from side to side, panic welling up as its struggles were firmly restrained.
Flossie screamed. The female mouse had got free of Claire and had buried its teeth in Flossie’s thigh. Dudley let go of the arm he had been holding, and rushed over to help Flossie.
“No,” I yelled, “don’t—”
Too late. The mouse used its free hand to punch Maurice in the face, knocking him away, I lunged, trying to stab the mouse. It twisted out of the way, got its tail free of my grip and wrapped it around my throat.
I desperately tried to get it off but it was wrapped around tight, squeezing. My head felt like it was going to explode.
Maurice tackled the mouse again and it released me to get away. It scrambled to the other side of the room, moving amazingly fast. I sat up wheezing and gasping for breath. Dudley had got the female mouse off Flossie and was helping her up. The mouse-woman was in the corner, hissing and snarling.
The male mouse came running out of a dark corner with a spear held in front of it, levelled at Maurice. He dived out of the way.
My head spun, my whole body was shaking and my throat felt like it was on fire. I groggily got to my feet, stumbled forward a few steps, and then ran.
Down the tunnel. Past the bushes. Into the water.
I climbed onto the island and lay on my back, gasping for breath. I was livid. Fuck them.
I sat up and saw them wading through the water. Dudley was helping Flossie. Claire and Maurice were each checking the other was okay. Fuck all of them.
I got back in the water and headed for the opposite side. Hopefully, the bunnicorns had gone back to the clearing or wherever. I got out of the water and leaned against a tree wanting to scream.
Behind me, they had continued past the island probably thinking I wanted to put some extra distance between me and the danger. I did, but the danger I wanted to get away from was them.
“What the fuck?” I yelled at them as they staggered out of the water, sopping wet. “What the actual fucking fuck?”
Everyone looked down, red-faced and unsure of what to say.
Except for Dudley, who looked up at the sky. “Colin, I—”
“What, Dudley? I’m sorry? I’m useless? I’m a total retard who almost got everyone killed?”
“He didn’t get anyone killed,” Claire shouted back at me. “He saved Flossie.”
“He didn’t save anyone. She got bitten. If the mouse had rabies it’s already too late for her, otherwise she’ll be fine.” I turned to Dudley who had his mouth half open. “And if you tell me mice don’t carry rabies, I will stab you in the heart, so shut up. Fucking one thing, just one thing you had to do. Stay focused. But you can’t help yourself, can you? This is why you’ve always disappointed people. You want to be a free spirit? Great, do whatever the fuck you want. Keeping your
word obviously means nothing to you and next time you’re going to get someone killed. Probably me.”
“That’s enough,” said Claire.
“Damn right it is. Piss off, all of you.”
“I-I’m sorry,” stammered Dudley. “I know I let you down. It’s just, I-I—”
“What? It’s not your fault? You meant well? It doesn’t matter. Next time will be the same because no one ever taught you the importance of doing what you promised. My life’s been full of people like you. ‘I meant it at the time, but things change…” That’s not how it works. You’re either someone who can keep their word, or you’re a fucking liar. I can’t rely on you, Dudley, so I think it’s best I just rely on myself.”
Dudley clenched both fists by his side and lowered his head to look me in the eye. “Then teach me.”
“Teach you what?”
“Teach me how to do what needs to be done. If you’re so f-f-fucking perfect, teach me. I’ll do whatever you say.”
We glared at each other for what seemed like forever and then I said, “Fine.”
And so began the training of Dudley Fenderson III.
34. Teach Me, Master
If you’re expecting an intense series of life changing experiences bookended by Dudley struggling around an assault course at the start, and flying around the same course to the theme from Rocky at the end, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.
I didn’t have time to rebuild Dudley from the ground up, and even if I did, changing him from upper class twit to stone cold killer was well beyond me. My only goal was to get him to focus on one thing at a time so that when I told him to do something I had confidence he would actually do it. With a normal person, you’d just say, “Look, I want you to do this thing, and it’s important, really important, so don’t stop until it’s finished. No matter what happens, this is your number one priority. We’re all counting on you, okay?” And the person would understand.
That kind of approach wouldn’t work with Dudley. He would certainly agree to the task, but once he got distracted (by Flossie, by a passing bird, by the sound of his stomach rumbling…) he’d forget what he was supposed to be doing. I needed a way to demonstrate what ‘important’ actually meant.
“I want you to pile these on top of each other.” I placed a handful of small stones in front of him. They were my collection of shots for my sling. I had selected the flattest ones, ten in all.
Dudley kneeled down next to me. “You want me to build a tower?”
“Exactly. And while you try to do that, I’m going to distract you. Whatever I say or do, I want you to ignore me and stay focused on building the tower. Nothing else matters. Understand?”
He nodded and lined up the stones on the ground.
I stood up and positioned myself on one side of him. “Ready? Go.”
Dudley put the first stone on top of another, carefully balancing it for maximum stability.
I leaned forward so my mouth was close to his ear and started screaming at him. “You fucking piece of shit, I hope you die!”
Dudley knocked over the the two-stone tower and recoiled from me, a look of shock on his face.
“What? I said I was going to try and distract you. You’re supposed to ignore me, remember?” I could see the concept of what I was trying to do take root in his brain, like a mushroom growing in the crack of a dead tree. This was the only way to make him actually get it. Now the door was open, I just had to kick him through. “Let’s try again.”
He nodded, got back into position and waited for me.
“Okay, go.” He put the second stone on the first, the third stone on the second. “You’re useless! You’ve always been useless. No one likes you because there’s nothing good about you.”
I was yelling in his ear at full volume. Full on abuse with no pauses. And I had plenty to say.
“The world would be infinitely improved if you didn’t exist. Your mother would abort you now if she had the chance, you fucking failure!”
Dudley’s hands were shaking. He had stacked five stones on top of each other before they tumbled down.
“Again! Keep going, you loser. Don’t wait for me to tell you—start again. If you haven’t accomplished the goal, you keep trying. Holy shit, you dumb fuck, that was only four that time. Again. Again. Hurry up. Stop listening to me and focus. Do you want to be this hopeless for the rest of your life? Don’t look at me, these questions are rhetorical, you arse-wipe, look at what you’re doing. Quicker!”
I kept it up for ten minutes before my voice started getting hoarse. Dudley managed to get to seven stones but he was shaking all over and breathing hard from the pummelling. I straightened up, my back aching, and stretched.
“Maurice, take over.”
The others were sat watching, a mixture of embarrassment and concern on their faces. Maurice hesitantly came over and took my place.
“Remember,” I said to Dudley. “it doesn’t matter what he says, ignore it and complete the task.”
I nodded at Maurice. He exchanged an apologetic look with Dudley, and then launched into it with a surprising amount of gusto.
“You miserable maggot! What do you think this is, a holiday. Get on with it. Do it. Do it. Do it. I hate you. Your mother hates you. God hates you. Jesus died for your sins, you piece of garbage. Not my sins, not anyone else’s sins, just yours. You will go to Hell, you and Hitler, no one else. Him for being an evil bastard, and you for just being you.”
I was impressed. The religious angle was a nice touch. Dudley at least seemed to have stopped taking everything personally and was able to concentrate on building his tower, although he still hadn’t got past seven stones.
“Can I have a word with you?” said Claire.
“What?”
“No, in private.”
Reluctantly, I followed her. She stopped behind some trees and crossed her arms, her face full of frowns. “Look, I know you’re doing this for a reason,” she said in a forced whisper, “but you don’t have to be so cruel.”
“Yes, I do,” I whispered back. “I’m not making him do this. If he wants to stop, he can. It’s up to him, not you.”
“I know that, but he’s trying his best, we all are.”
“No, you’re not. You know how you know when you’re trying your best? You feel terrible. Your body hurts all over, you’re exhausted, you can’t think straight, you want to give up but you keep going, hating every minute. It’s horrible. That’s why nobody does it. It’s much easier to not try your best and just say you did. The way you’re saying it now.”
Claire clenched her jaw and made a weird little grunt. “I don’t know how to talk to you. Everything you say makes me want to punch you in the face.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what your problem is. I’ve told you from the start, you can all pick up and leave any time. Walk off hand in hand and go make friendship bracelets for each other as you slowly starve to death. My only advice would be, if you do resort to cannibalism, eat Dudley first.”
I returned to Dudley hunched over his tower of stones and Maurice running out of steam.
“Welsh people don’t like you. French people don’t like you. German people do like you, which is even worse.”
“Flossie, your turn,” I said.
Flossie, who had been massaging the bite she’d received—thanks to her rough hessian trousers, it hadn’t even pierced the skin, just left a red mark—looked up at me in horror.
“Ah can’t.”
“We have to show him it’s not personal. If only some of us do it, it’ll look like me and Maurice really hate him.” Complete bollocks, of course. I just wanted to see what she’d come up with.
Flossie slowly got to her feet and walked over to swap places with Maurice. “What do I do?”
“Just distract him. Dudley, you’re nearly there. This time.” I gave him a thumbs up, which only confused him. “Okay, go.”
Dudley started stacking. Flossie stood there frozen for a mo
ment, then spun around so her back was to him and started singing.
“Look at mah bum. Look at mah bum. Look at mah big, big bum.” She was jumping up and down and slapping her own backside as she sang. “Look at mah bum. Look at mah bum. Look at mah big, big bum.”
Dudley’s whole body shook. He was bent over the rocks, a twisted knot of focus, but three, four stones and the tower would topple.
“Look at mah bum. Look at mah bum. Look at mah big, big bum.”
“Don’t you fucking look, Dudley. Keep going. Nothing else matters.”
Sweat was pouring off his face. Tom Cruise deciding whether to cut the green or yellow wire couldn’t even come close to this scene for pure intensity.
