Critical Failures V (Caverns and Creatures Book 5)

by Robert Bevan

  “Denise?”

  “Leave me alone, Randy!” Denise called back through sobs. “I need a little more fuckin’ time, okay?”

  “Denise!” Randy shouted. “You need to get your shit together right now, man. We got bigger problems.”

  Denise waddled out wearing what appeared to be a pair of underpants made out of one end of a giant bean pod, and a top made from a leaf. She’d cut a hole in the middle for her head, and tied the ends down her front and back around the waist with a length of vine. Most of the bean-shit mixture had been wiped from her face, but it was still thick in her hair and beard.

  “What are you wearing?”

  Denise gave Randy the finger. “My other clothes are pretty well done for. This’ll have to do until I can find something else. Now what the fuck else kinda problems we got now?”

  “A little kid. I think it was a boy, but I ain’t sure. He just fell off the island.”

  Denise rolled her eyes. “Well surely that’s his fuckin’ problem, ain’t it?”

  “That ain’t all,” said Randy. He looked up to make sure the coast was clear, then whispered. “Basil ate him.”

  “There you go. One less problem than we had before.”

  “This is serious, Denise. What are we gonna do?”

  “I’m gonna try to wipe some more shit out of my beard, then we’re gonna walk to that village over there and I’m gonna see about getting a change of clothes and a stiff fuckin’ drink. What you and your goddamn lizard are gonna do is up to –” Denise looked up. “What the fuck is that?”

  Randy turned around and saw what he at first mistook to be another horse falling out of the sky. But this one wasn’t falling. It was descending slowly and steadily, on account of it having big black wings. As it flapped down toward them, Randy saw that it also had a rider. Her skin was as black as her cloak. Randy thought she might be the Angel of Death. Had she come for him or Denise? Was he supposed to fight her, or let her do God’s bidding?

  His paladin instincts had prevented him from lying even when reason told him there was moral justification to do so. It seemed strange that these same instincts provided no guidance on the etiquette involved in meeting a holy – or possibly unholy – messenger.

  The flying horse and rider had nearly touched ground when Randy understood why his paladin instincts were crapping out on him.

  “Katherine?”

  The black flying horse landed, and Katherine dismounted. “What the fuck are you two doing down here?”

  “We got lost in the desert.” Randy nodded toward the village. “We found our way out now.”

  Katherine looked down at Denise. “What happened to you? You look like you just lost a game of Jumanji.”

  “And you look like Mary J. fuckin’ Blige!”

  Katherine smiled. “Do you really think so?”

  The conversation was taking a very uncomfortable direction. Randy decided to change the subject. “That’s a nice-lookin’ horse your rode in on.”

  The horse huffed at Randy through his nostrils.

  “Darius is a pegasus,” Katherine snapped at him. “They don’t like to be called horses.”

  Denise shook her head at Randy. “Fuckin’ racist.”

  Randy was taken aback as the most racist person he’d ever known, a woman in blackface, and a winged horse glared judgmentally at him. “I didn’t mean nothin’ by –”

  “I don’t have time for your hillbilly bullshit,” said Katherine. “Have either of you two dorks seen my brother?”

  Randy felt a strange mixture of relief and grief. He’d been wrong about it being a child. That was something. But poor Tim. Poor Katherine.

  “Katherine, I –”

  FWOOOSHHHH

  The sunlight was suddenly much brighter as a gust of wind blew upward. When Randy looked up, the flying island wasn’t there anymore. It had disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared in the first place.

  “Ah, shit,” said Katherine, staring up at the empty sky. “I should’ve let them out first.” She looked back at Randy. “What were you saying?”

  Randy removed the pants from his head and held them to his chest with both hands. “Katherine, I’m really sorry.”

  The End.

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