"It sounds like a horrible place," Hailey agreed. "But it has to be safer than here.”
"No," Kat says. "They can't be trusted."
Savant gestured to Brexbin with his gun. "You mean that thing might start singing again?"
"I mean—"
Few things stop a conversation like a dinosaur crashing around the street corner of Rockwell Avenue and Imagination Boulevard. This one had three horns atop a mighty shield, burning eyes and a wild grunt. The triceratops thundered down the nostalgic street, shattering the asphalt beneath its massive feet. It roared as it charged and scared the dust from the ground into a cloud that billowed behind it.
Kat rushed into the center of the street and stared down the massive beast. There she stood calm and unmoving as it charged toward her.
Hailey screamed at her to move.
The triceratops stopped in front of Kat with all the grace of a bus with a flat tire and grunted.
Kat placed a hand on the triceratops’s snout and bent down toward it as if she had a secret to share with the giant creature.
“Kat?” Hailey tried to sound calm. She certainly wasn’t calm, but figured it was the appropriate way to sound when confronting a dinosaur. “Why don’t we step away from the dinosaur, honey.”
Kat turned and smiled at Hailey but said nothing.
Before she had time to be disturbed by Kat’s expression, Hailey found herself dropping to the ground to escape a shower of exploding glass. The storefront windows around the team shattered as a whole new set of fearsome screams filled the street.
Hailey spun as several large white-haired gorillas leapt from the stores into the street. Standing well over six feet tall and more than half as broad, the muscular creatures grunted and screamed in Ape as they surrounded the team.
Hailey drew the automatic from her holster and took aim at a gorilla that was charging Glitch. Before she could pull the trigger, the two giants became a tangle of limbs and grunts.
Glitch was slammed into a wall before he had a chance to strike back. But when the cyborg got his chance, he made it count. He drove a piston-powered fist into the gorilla’s chest and sent the Animatomaton stumbling back into the street. The man had spent a fortune in time and money wiring, programming and augmenting himself to be a better person. But he was still human at his core and realized the only appropriate way to respond to an attacking gorilla was to beat on his own chest and scream like Tarzan.
Lacking Glitch’s strength, the rest of the team was forced to hold back the apes with gunfire and swearing. But bullets and bad words weren’t nearly as effective as a cybernetic arm.
Brexbin clasped his paws over his ears, closed his eyes and began singing an annoyingly happy tune about not being afraid. The song, pitchy on purpose, but catchy nonetheless, created an odd soundtrack to the fight that followed.
Gunfire and grunts were exchanged as the gorillas charged and retreated over and over again.
Hailey spun back to get Kat as one of the white apes landed beside the girl. The creature threw Kat over its shoulder and leapt onto the back of the triceratops in a surprisingly smooth motion.
Hailey screamed after the girl as the beast turned and rumbled back into the park. “They took Kat!” she yelled to the rest of the team.
But they were too busy fighting gorillas to hear.
Glitch’s sparring partner had gotten back on its feet and charged the cyborg once more. Maybe the shock of being set upon by apes and dinosaurs had worn off. Maybe Glitch had made an adjustment to an actuator or a relay. Whatever it was, the machine in the man had stepped up and Glitch struck first and fast, driving his fist through the ape’s face and out the back of its head.
Sparks exploded from the white ape’s skull as it fell shuddering to the ground.
The rest of the team had their backs to the Beast and were slowly realizing that their guns were doing nothing to slow the angry Animatomatons.
One of the beasts raised an arm to strike Mason as the man’s magazine ran dry. Before Mason could duck, Glitch had the ape’s wrist in his mechanical hand. The cyborg twisted and sent the gorilla tumbling down the street.
Another ape leapt on Glitch’s back only to end up on the other side of The Beast a moment later. Glitch grabbed yet another by the throat and sent him flying into the first gorilla he had thrown.
The Animatomatons regrouped as Mason and the others reloaded and prepared for another charge.
The three remaining apes postured and mock-charged. They beat their chests and pounded the ground into black chunks of asphalt.
Glitch stood behind the team, looked at the machines and made two grunts that sounded like he was trying to dislodge something in his throat that didn’t want to go.
The three apes responded by standing a little taller, turning and walking away.
Hailey turned to find the rest of the team staring at Glitch with the same puzzled look she surely had.
“It’s called a double belch vocalization,” Glitch explained with an air of intelligence that didn’t belong. “It signals a non-aggressive intent. Dian Fossey and others used it to habituate gorilla troops. I’m surprised the programmers thought to include the DBV. It’s impressive.”
Savant was the first to see the real reason the apes decided to leave. It was over two stories, walked with a hunch and had a giant head filled with teeth.
The T-Rex gave a low roar as it stepped into the street.
Hailey felt the creature’s grunt roll around in her stomach. Her knees buckled and she reached out for the Beast to steady herself. Instead of the truck’s metal skin she found furry, blue paw.
Brexbin took her hand as the Tyrannosaur roared once more. He pulled at her arm. “We have to get to the Bearberry tree.”
“Those things took Kat!” she yelled at the bear.
Brexbin put his other paw on top of her hand. “The Dinosty Warriors have her now."
"We have to get her back."
The dinosaur lowered its head and gave a full blown, open mouth roar that passed through her and continued on down the Rockwell Avenue and out into the world to terrify anyone that might cross its path. The teeth were polished white as if they were lit from the inside. They may have been, for all she knew.
Brexbin pulled harder on her arm. "My friends and I can help you. But, first we need to get out of here. Come with me to the Great Bearberry tree."
Jake grabbed Brexbin’s paw, pulled it off Hailey’s arm and turned to the bear. “Kat didn’t trust you. Why should we?”
"It will be okay, the Bearberry Bears are fun loving, fun giving, fun having friends, TM.”
Savant shook his head. "I'm going to throw up.”
The T-Rex stepped closer and roared again. It was massive and completely historically accurate if dinosaurs had actually worn a full set of plate armor and a horned helmet.
“But I can throw up at this guy’s happy place,” Savant said. “Take us to your stupid tree, you stupid bear.”
9
Few people know the proper way to respond when an armor-plated T-Rex charges you in the wild. A person’s instincts would be to either flee down the street screaming with arms flailing or play dead. This is assuming, of course, that person was not armed with a bazooka.
And who could blame them? The only real world situation that might compare would be with that of a grizzly bear encounter. In that case, traditional wisdom is to play dead, cover the neck and head and hope for the best. Again, assuming no bazooka.
Of course, there is no precedent in which the grizzly bear is wearing a suit of armor. If that were the case, traditional wisdom would be to turn the bazooka on yourself.
What traditional wisdom could never know is that the proper response to being charged by an armor-plated T-Rex is to run into a Ye Olde Photo Op Spotte that had been used to stage pictures with a barbershop quartet known as the Rockwell Rock-Its at the behest of a small blue bear.
“This way, my newest, bestest friends!” Brexbin shouted fro
m inside the Ye Olde Photo Op Spotte.
“Follow the bear,” Jake shouted and waved for the others to go.
The team rushed after the bear as it disappeared behind the disheveled display racks.
“We’re really going to follow that thing?” Mason answered his own question as he ran past Glitch and through the shattered doorway.
Jake was the last one to cross under the transom. He entered the Photo Op Spotte the moment a massive foot crashed down in front of the doorway.
The building shook as the beast outside smashed up against the building’s false front and brought the façade crashing down, blocking access to the street.
“Good going, you stupid bear.” Savant kept his gun aimed at the wreckage. He had no delusions that anything short of a rocket launcher would do anything but annoy the dinosaur, but he insisted on protesting his potential devouring as much and as loudly as possible. “We’re trapped.”
Brexbin smiled and grabbed the corner of the shop’s backdrop and pulled. The matte painting of Rockwell Ave fell to the ground with a rip, revealing an entrance marked Employees Only. Brexbin waved a paw like he had performed magic. “Through here,” he said with an inflection that mimicked a magician’s “tada!”
The bear opened the door to a sterile white hallway still lit by daylight-bright LEDs. The glow stood in stark contrast to the moodier lighting that had lit the street.
Brexbin ran into the hallway and waddled right.
The team followed as the wreckage at the entrance rumbled.
The hallway felt removed from the park. Even the directional signage painted on the walls had foregone the elaborate designs that had covered everything from trashcans to map stands in the park. Instead they made do with simple Helvetica font and yellow arrows.
This particular yellow arrow led them down the hallway as the building shook around them. They passed a half dozen doors, each labeled with the shop name.
Rosie’s Hot Shots was a Rosie the Riveter themed photography studio that specialized in riveter-themed photography.
Gillis’s was a World War II themed eatery serving Patriot Pancakes, Draft Beer and Sloppy G.I. Joes.
The Four Freedoms sold an array of limited edition items relating to FDR’s famous speech that had declared the freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want and freedom from fear as universal rights. Many park visitors had browsed the shop but few bought anything, as most of the items were prohibitively expensive.
The Sunday Evening Poster Shop sold artwork while dodging copyright violations.
“Why would anyone want this crap?” Savant asked as the halls thundered with another crash.
“Dude, to prove that you were here.” Glitch was pulling up the rear of the group. He held his hand over his arm as he trotted along.
“Prove it to who?” Savant asked.
“I don’t know. Your friends and family I guess.”
“Those are some pretty shitty friends. Why wouldn’t they just take your word for it?”
“Shut up, Savant,” Hailey barked. “It’s how normal people have fun.”
“Yeah, well normal people are lame.”
They followed the yellow arrows to the top of a staircase. Brexbin waddled down and begged the others to follow. “It’s through here.”
Jake stopped at the head of the stairs and let the team pass him. Glitch arrived last. Running was never the big man’s thing but he appeared more winded than normal. The cyborg leaned against the wall and wiped his brow, revealing a wound on his arm.
“You okay, Glitch?” Jake asked.
The cyborg turned and showed Jake the gash he had been holding shut. “One of those stupid monkeys pinched me.”
“That doesn’t look good, Glitch.”
“It’s my own fault really. I should have upgraded this arm, too. The only reason I haven’t is some kind of stupid sentimental thing.”
A crash indicated that maybe the T-Rex had finally gained entrance into the Ye Olde Photo Op Spotte.
Jake looked back to Glitch. “Can you keep going?”
“Of course I can. It’s just an arm.” The cyborg pushed himself off the wall and hobbled down the stairs.
Jake looked at the bloodstain his friend had left behind. Judging by the size and Glitch’s dismissal, they’d have to do something about the wound as soon as they got to the tree.
Once Jake was down in the catacombs that laced the park, he finally felt as if the island were truly abandoned.
The tunnel stretched on and on, and the farther they went the quieter things got. Aside from the humming of the lights, there was no sound but the slap of their footsteps and the soft but heavy thwump of Brexbin’s padded paws against the smooth cement floor.
“It’s not far now,” Brexbin giggled as he pointed to an arrow on the wall marked Great Bearberry Tree. He finally stopped waddling at a door that looked no different than the dozens they had passed. Flat gray with a silver bar across it, it was a door that could lead to anywhere in any building in the world.
Brexbin turned and covered his mouth for an extended giggle. “Here we are. My Bearberry Friends, TM, are going to just love you all beary, beary much.”
“I want to shoot him,” Savant said. “Please let me shoot him.”
Brexbin pushed the door and let them all pass before letting the door close behind him. The outside of the door was mock oak plank and set in a nest of roots at the bottom of the park’s centerpiece attraction.
Beneath the Great Bearberry Tree, the park was a world of bright colors that constantly shifted in time with some of the world’s happiest music. There were no lyrics, but each member of the team could feel the tune burrowing deep into the folds of their brains, where it would remain forever with all the awkward things the mind liked to bring out in the moments before sleep.
It was a bouncy tune that seemed to say, “Everything is going to be okay, school is great, work is fun and vegetables are delicious.”
Mason pinched the bridge of his nose like he was fighting off a headache. “Please tell me the music stops, bear.”
Brexbin giggled, “No, never. Isn’t it wonderful? It always cheers me up when I’m having a bad day.”
“You have bad days?” Hailey asked.
“Everyone is allowed to have bad days,” Brexbin said with a cuddly shrug. “What’s important is that you pick yourself up and be happy again tomorrow.”
Before Savant could groan, the Bearberry Bear waddled along a red brick path to a staircase that looked as if it was carved from the trunk of the tree. Twisted vines provided the handrails and the team ascended slowly into the branches above.
“Kat seemed pretty freaked out about the bear,” Hailey whispered to Jake as they climbed. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open for trouble, but how could it be worse than the dino welcome wagon?”
Brexbin stopped at another faux wood door. This one was emblazoned with the Bearberry crest—a pair of B’s set back to back in a crescent of vines bearing fruit. The bear could barely contain his excitement. He giggled and whispered, “We’re here.”
The door creaked open slowly, revealing the interior of The Great Bearberry Tree. Light poured out of the door and the music grew louder. Bearberry Bears were everywhere. And all of them were dancing. Bears twirled and stepped and flipped and spun around as if the team had walked in on some fuzzy Fosse dance routine.
“Sure. Dancing bears. Horrible music.” Jake went through the list as he looked around the great hollow of the tree. “This is worse.”
And then the Bearberry Bears sang.
The camera drones that had followed them through the tunnel spread out through the tree to capture the rare spectacle that used to happen every hour on the hour except when holiday programming was in effect.
Every bear took a lyric and the sound bounced around the tree house like some kind of sadistic bouncing ball that only a child on a sugar high could follow.
We s
ing as we work away
Singing turns work into play
And so we play the entire day
We really like it better this way!
Glitch sniffled and turned away from the team.
Mason put an arm on the cyborg’s shoulder. “I know, man. Makes me want to cry, too.”
“Shut up, Mason.”
“Wait. Are… are those tears of happiness?!”
“Shut up, Mason!”
“You can’t actually like this crap.”
Glitch wiped his cheek on his shoulder.
“Why, Glitch? How?"
Glitch didn’t answer right away. But he did finally speak. “The Bearberry Bears were the best friends a boy could have. You see, they made bearberry juice and when you drank it, you turned into a Bearberry Bear and you went on great adventures with… you know, friends.”
Mason watched the dancing bears then looked back at Glitch. "Who would want that?"
"I don’t know, Mason. Maybe someone who was never comfortable in their own skin. Maybe someone who didn’t have real friends, who was always made fun of for his… or her… size.”
“This fat little, lonely loser… that was you, wasn’t it, fatso?”
“Haha, funny guy. I’m over all of that. I'm finally okay with who I am and your words can’t hurt me anymore.”
"Sure, that's what growing up, developing a new perspective and augmenting your body in a thousand ways will do for you."
"Shut up, Mason."
At this point the song became a spoken how-to guide for different housekeeping tasks. A Bearberry Bear that had been dancing with a broom took the first line.
Dancing isn’t work so dance that broom around
The next line was passed to a Bearberry Bear holding a feather duster. The bear tucked the duster behind his back, leaned in close to the fireplace mantle and sang:
Singing isn’t work so dust that shelf with sound
The bear belted out a short aria and the dust leapt from the mantle and into the air even though that’s not quite how sound works.
Baseball isn’t work so—
At this point the bear holding the plunger noticed the team standing in the doorway and stopped singing. The bear gasped with a giggle, dropped the plunger and shouted to the others, “New friends!”
Junkers Season Two Page 7
