“How’s that?!” Gutt lamented, eyes darting out of his skull in disbelief, then down at his wristwatch. “Rats, normally we’d have a solid ten minutes left. Must have horsed around too much.” He glanced down at the remaining spoils. “Ah, hell! We forgot the flamethrower y’all wanted.”
A ferocious surge in my circuits told me to streak to the exits with what we had. I could feel my legs twitch, rabid dogs bucking in attempt to wrest free from their cages and chains. But I resisted. “Is the Flamer imperative?” I shook the sack. “We already have plenty!”
He made sounds under duress, trying to hammer out a course of action. “Don’t panic bout it…” He churned with a vigorous expression. “They shouldn't give out for a spell.”
Of course. Never lose thy composure. How could I forget basically the first advice he'd given today? Don’t indulge any fears by letting them tiptoe past the ability to reason, and hike the pressure to ill-measured action.
Gutt smashed my train of thought saying, “We should thrift probablyyy, for jellies or plasmas: Let’s sift the PJ-boxes!” And he went stumbling over a couple mythical Assault items, filing away for the categories.
Fidgetingly, he checked the nearest shelves first: “H I… J K…” he trailed off looking quite a ways down the row. Everything was pretty well alphabetized in clusters - the bad news was the way that the Facility had Tiers where the lettering order repeated, or even reversed stream of direction - so we might be forced to climb if we were to locate a Lavaslide.
I flicked a nervous glance back at the final Spinal. Gutterson sped across the aisle and I ditched our Loot sitting alone to join the search. With veins bulging upon a forehead of fervor, scanning through J contents he sounded off, “Pee is across the aisle right down there boy, make yourself useful!” without even looking in my direction.
I had been hovering over his shoulder about as useful as an inflatable dart-board. “What’s this... alternative name for a LavaHose s’posed to be??” I prompted.
“Sayyhomm-thin, to the effect of Plasmud-Toastir!”
“Stat,” I confirmed, and split away like the nose of a dart. As I neared the N O P segment stock when I felt a pop towards my sinuses. My ears readjusted & nose silently stung. Weird, my airways just opened—wider than they had ever enjoyed. Have I been gathering restricted breaths all my life? Time was suddenly a bit drowsy in step to my newfound vacuum buzz of incoming oxygen to the brain. It felt like the pistons had been introduced to some state-of-the-art oil, pumping with unpolluted agility.
My line of sight dove right into the P’s like a needy Predator, and managed to easily track to the “Pla” label which might reveal the desired Plasmachine. Swiftly it became apparent, however, that at no place did S follow the placement-chain to signal any plasmas were residing there.
My sternum sank. I exhaled in frustration and decided it was probably best if we simply abandoned the pursuit and high-tailed outta here. But like a scrambling, desperate prey, a gimmick flew up my sleeve. My neck tilted up at the Rising arrangement of levels, and zoomed in. My head panned from right to left, drifting out to ends that seemed to soar like a horde of vultures dotting the horizon.
As my vision swirled and roamed across the plethora of Bridges, I snagged the word NITRO & got glued onto the N region in the middle 3rd Deck: I pandered back slightly along that section to where a sign read Nitro BlisteRide It seemed to throb at me amidst the pounding of my Temples. Cogs rolled together as an imaginary clock hiked to a pronounced ‘click-tock’. A grated ramp at the end of the aisle offered the nearest ascent toward the area. I ran like the finish line was less than fifty meters away and second place was breathing down my neck, but my galoshes made it all a rather cumbersome effort.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“You think it’s up way High?” I heard faintly as I serpentined around the railing of the zig-zagging Ramp, over an artificial wind which my sprint was producing.
“Well i spotted some Nitro...” I huffed. “Now do me a favor Gut! The M’s are right beside you. Can you scrounge up anything Magnet-related!?!”
More than anything, I was hedging my bets that M stood for miracle.
As i weaved along the ramp I could glimpse the crescents waning; all blue hues had dwindled to lazy campires as they wobbled, sheets of glass in a strong earthquake -- now curdling into slurping sounds. The lunar cycle that normally played out over two weeks, seemed it may not even have 2 minutes to falter. Our chances were eclipsing with each stride.
From below I heard boxes being ripped from their nesting places, and metal pieces clanging into the floor as they overturned. My colleague was spilling their guts, sifting through innards. “Good idea,” drifted to me from below. “I take it you want something Polarizing!”
Yep, that was the Big idea: as a small boy, I recalled magnets seeming capable of inducing mind-boggling feats; these were the memories anchoring my leap of faith. A magnetic Field might gain some sort of property over the portal’s life & reverse its will to die. I would be content if the prescription could just slow the ebb, salvage any scrap of time. I just didn’t know whether that kind of Element was included among these furnishings.
Gutterson wasn’t having any luck. “MVP’s, Moatwhiff... Aww, this is a needle in a haystack! You oughtta just come back here & we’ll jet!”
“No keep at it!” I encouraged, wilting of breath. About that time I was at least 30 feet in the air, and I needed to cut over to a certain catwalk. But it was detached about the length of a man from the current ramp beneath my feet. I grit my teeth & crouched for lift-off.
My chest collided like a baseball bat on the other platform -- clinging to the exterior rails. I pedaled my feet and squirmed until able to haul myself over the safety features. A heavy ache seeped along my ribs as I steadied my feet and continued toward the rack that was holding my goal. The concrete ridge that went around the room’s perimeter had held a dark blue stripe in the vicinity of the point I had seen from below, & was trying to relocate.
My feet clanged & clattered atop the narrow metal passage: Body began to feel faint and flimsy ~ began to Wonder if we even escaped this conundrum, whether I was going to develop chronic headaches or bone-fractures intense as the pangs of death itself.
“Hey, this could be do the Trick!” I was so high-strung that when Gutt yelled, thought it was the sound of something disintegrating. “It has Mag in the name at least,” he reported. “Ever heard uh something called a...” there rose a struggling to sound out the name, “Magneo’quiTrophase??”
“Just check it out!” I snapped. “Don’t need a syllable count.”
Shifting down two gears from full throttle, I closed in on the proper area I had earlier identified. I checked to see how much longer we had to pack up camp and ditch this hole in the wall. Crap. From here I couldn’t tell how much shrinkage had undergone, but it was enough to frighten me. At least both moons were still bobbing along the wall.
“Let’s seee,” I swiveled back to investigating the shelf. N-Velope Leg…. Nude Screen... Norse-peck Plate. What a bunch of impractical names… And each one probably had a whole file to itself in some classified drawer at the back of a pitch black room down in the recesses of some basement. Something hot better be heeerrre...
Aha! Nitro BLISTERide! I leaned out with relief to embrace its storage box. As I cradled it against my chest & rested for a couple extended recovery breaths, I peered through a footlong gap divorcing the catwalk and the rack. I couldn’t help but notice the drop straight down. Gently as one would coddle a baby, I hoisted the long box and crouched around it. Then I proceeded to Claw away at the stapled Flaps, raking through Styrofoam packing to feel around at the bottom. My skin grazed something cold and in such pristine condition that it almost seemed wet—then above the Terror, my hand resurrected an oblong Torpedo from a snowy grave.
“It's called Nitro Blist-!” I accuSingly exulted.
But in the next instant there sounded a buzzing like a thousand wings. (All I could think was an army of drones were gearing up to take aim.)_#