came tow confisCrazin' laying face down, foam slipping sidelong my jaw. Last memoRemained... my Torso being divided! I flushed hands against my belly but traced smooth, ContinuoSkin. I guzzled in oxygen, craning my neck, propping an arm through furious pain all below my shoulders. I was in a gray-green, concrete bunker. Phew… back at Gutter’s Gunshop in one piece. Wait.
Gutt! He was rising with back hunched away from me, weapons in the bundle. I was about to close my eyes and thank our watchful stars, when I felt a vibration stirring behind me. I only had a general notion of what it was, but it sounded BIG. Danger was still hot on our heels.
“Get down!” I commanded.
Not sure how Gutt reacted in time; I guess because he’d been raised taking militant orders. But he trusted my impetus. It kept him from getting decapitated.
While he was in the process of dropping back into a crouch, the Mag-trophase came soaring overhead with a gurgling noise. Since I was already stuck on the ground, I peered up kind of like a snail might with low, bugging eyes. It was a comical sight really: the jet turbine was whining like it had an Airshow to impress.
The fancy Flyer ejected from the portal at an angle askance, so instead of obliterating the tarped GatlinGiver, which might have ended “moon rides” for an extended duration, it tore through the tub of glocks as if it was playing a carnival bowling game. The “Awesome-armadillo” tub gave like wet cardboard, guns instantly pummeled & dragged by the velocity. The winnowing engine continued into a special glass case. Photos of Gutt geared up at contests and campsites with longtime buddies, gleamed in the display: fragile items of Reminiscence.
Stuff continued to scatter. We'd avoided an avalanche of calamities already today, but dodging just one bullet is a miracle. So far, it seemed we’d eluded an entire chamber, so this was the small loss faced; while it was indeed crushing, almost seemed necessary to balance the scales. Our lives should have been crushed instead.
The mortar wall finally brought Mag-Nuts to a bone-Jarring halt, as a shower of material rained down behind it, and we shielded our faces from thousands of careening shards. The oscillating super-Fan inside of it ground to a weak slur, while frayed wires at the back end sizzled. The poor room was not designed to take such punishment. A couple powdered piles of conCream mounted either side of Maggy, torn portions of sandbag insulation stuffed between planks reinforced by stone... Otherwise, here in the basement, bog would be leaking in.
Our group of oddballs upstairs probably felt the shockWave. I turned from curling on my side, spreading my arms wider along the floor, Bellowing, “Honey, we're HO-O-OME!” and smiled raggedly at the sleek, unmarred wall beside me. Now it was plain weird not to see sundry collection of crescents or bullet pocks wavering along the wall; like moving Day, when the stripped place appears despondent.
Gutterson wobbled to his knees with a chain of appalled whimpering sounds. He groped across the floor, & stared as if he was gaping into the skiDimenSheen just returned from witnessing. Brushing some glass aside, he lifted the nearest creased-&-scratched photo with wobbling finGlobs. Agh, sorry, buddy. The saddest part was I bet he couldn’t even view it through the mist of his remaining vision. He traced fingertips along the picture, as if that would help him drink the memories back in. I could hear his breathing go shallow as he surveyed the battered scene, eventually sliding the photo into his back pocket and moving his hand to his hips.
The scene twisted my heart, but we needed to keep moving so we might be on time for our appointment with the Scallywags at the river. So I started to push myself up to console my pal. Except, a fraction of the way up, I felt a strain in my side, cried out, and slumped over. Gutterson flipped toward me without another thought and shuffled over to my rescue. “Is it real bad?”
“Can’t know for sure yet. I can barely feel my hip, but only been dented in a spot or two - and didn’t feel any broken bones earlier.”
“Jee whiz, are you Sure? I saw you take that crazy tumble when forced to jump onto the Locomotive.”
I used my hand and his balancing to get to a sitting position. MamoJamma! My wrists were even sore. “You’re right I’m trying to be stoic. Aching everywhere below my neck,” I motioned, “Down into my turf toes,” I finished.
His loving eyes sharpened with apprehension. “Yikes, I see something must have punctured your leg.”
A side of my thigh was a wrinkled, crimson Stickiness. “Yeah, did my best to prevent blood loss. The long pants had done us a favor. Can’t say the same for my foot getting stuck in the wires, but it avoided a worse fate. My left ankle’s pretty out-of-whack too; I don’t suppose the Scepter can help the swollen joints but at least I’d like my hamstring back.”
“Oh yes, right, that should be our first priority,” He agreed. “So get those pants out of the way & make sure the wound can’t stop running until we determine the Go-ahead for repairs.”
I rolled onto my healthier side in attempts to tug the waistband of my mud-pants down, but I was unable to budge it properly with one of my hips pinning fabric against the floor by my own weight. When Gutt returned from the bag, he helped me ease them down to the knee. I told my partner, “I think the sliver of glass is still embedded there.”
“That’s actually a stroke of fortune for us, because it can’t mend fast with a foreign object still lodged in it,” he tried to ease my mind.
“The time has come for it to get lost though,” I requested.
“I really should use a pair of tweezers to do that,” Gut remarked. “But that kind of tool is upstairs. I know two different empty-handed maneuvers: stretching or squeezing. Personally I think squeezing will be less painful. Which would you like?”
I was too fatigued to really care, and I knew it wouldn’t hurt much longer once the Staff was employed. I also figured the Guerrilla Veteran was well aware of his options when deprived of medical sources. “Just do what’s best man,” I permitted.
“Alright, take a deep breath,” he urged. “It’s gonna pinch.”
I did as instructed, and before I could exhale again I felt stubby fingers pushing against the tissue. I hissed as the pressure mounted among slicing scorches of anguish! My fist balled against itself as he assured me the process was almost over, & then administered a final rolling motion. I felt a thin object wiggle and come loose. “Here we go,” Gut said satisfactorily.
“NAhhhturally,” I barked, freely aggrieved, and now observing his reactions while my leg throbbed and continued to bite me. Gut regarded the peewee chunk of transparent material intently. “Wonder where that came from.”
“It was hanging on your nose until Maggy got into a mood and kicked you,” I teased.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
He slipped it into a pocket right over his heart. “I think I’ll give it a proper Plaque of its own, in tribute to our adventure. Were it practical, I might fashion some necklace out of it instead.”
That drew a quick reminder to how I was no longer in possession of Siggy’s locket. My head growled distastefully: That is going to go over like a oven-basteDish acciDently introduced to the floor. I sat there stewing the possible ways I could have caught it before that de-ForMelty spawned below our flight.
Rummaging sack material shook me from the self-defeatist trance. Errgg, Too bad the Staff couldn’t have mental soothing abilities as well. Truth be told, we’d all be scooping turns from that kind of treat.
Gutt returned, approaching with the Scar-Scepter. I grinned from where I was slumped on the floor. “I’ve been looking forward to learning how this regeneration business works -- just didn’t think I’d be the first one tested on.”
“Bravery earned your stripes,” Malibu lauded. “I’m honored to display your reward.”
“I’m glad you see it that way, Village Fillage.” I invoked one of our secret monikers. But in truth, I knew I tried to bail on him when the pressure cranked up.
My friend knelt down smiling. (but inwardly i was back in the warehouse, the darkest ‘Cave’ of my life). “The timber these hewn from, ain't from this solar system,” he explained. “The restorative properties are ‘rooted’ haha, in the bark. It’s just a matter of shoving a splinter into the damaged area.”
“That’s so cool,” I marveled. “The thing’s priceless.”
“Oh even for me,” he agreed. “This is the first one I’ve actually taken for a client. They’re pretty tricky to pass off as anything less than State-of-the-Art.” I instantly felt special. “Anyhow, for punctures and tears, you can just file a tiny part of it off with a pocket knife (or fingernails if you got thick enough). For internal injuries, you unfortunately... have to shiv yourself.”
“Zeeps!” I said to the latter part.
“I know, for everything a pricetag. But we’ll get to that in a minute; let’s seal up your thigh first. My own fingernails are too short to assist us, so I’ll have to use my hunting knife.” He pulled it from his bootstrap and filed short pulls down the tail-end of the Galactic Anomaly. Shavings caught along the ridges that serrated the dagger. My mentor dipped the blade sidelong to touch against the cut, and tenderly tapped off crimson-&-corn residue.
“Byye’ook!” I uttered at the sting. Then I felt the skin crawling almost instantly. It vibrated and puckered. I laughed ~ “They don’t sell that at the Pharmacy!”
“Now there will be scars, depending on the depth and size of wound,” he added during this. “Judging by yours, it will be faint if anything, and fade before the year’s out. But we'd better be careful,” Gutt said playfully. “Can’t afford any more gossip about sorcery making rounds in this town.”
I flexed my leg once the process finished pinching shut. Absolutely good as new. “Would it be a waste to use on pimples?” I joked.
“Yes, but probably not an acne patch,” Gutt parlayed. “Pay attention why, as I attend to your internal wounds though. This treatment can be overdone. You can only use it 3 times a week. Any more than that will overload the human biology. Fatally.”
“Luckily, I only have 2 more annihilated areas,” I retorted. “Among many aches.”
“Indeed, we’re gonna be able to make you whole. Now the reason the Scar-Spout spirals with raised edges, they help to sink down and access internal bleeding issues. Easier to impart friction.”
“I know what friction means. Hurry up and Gutt me already.”
The Gutter nodded. “Let’s do the ankle first. It’ll be easier to access the hip when you’re standing.”
I nodded back. “I’ll remove my boot in that case. Actually, on second thought my man, you have the better angle for easing it off.” Malibruiser laiDown the violet-chipped Scepter head for a minute, while managing to wiggle the boot free. My sock was in the way too, drenched from lagoon water. I had to firmly grapple my calf to steady the tight release of my comrade’s tugs to budge it from its hold. By the time all that had elapsed, I was breathing heavy again.
My doctor then lifted the Pole back into his grasp, and lowered it to tilt against the discolored ankle joint. “This is almost like striking a match,” he let me know.
“It’s fine. I’m into Pyromania,” I retorted.
He jerked it across the thin flesh. I pulled at my hair and neck for at least 5 seconds until the abrasion subsided. “Steam me sideways, that was more tender than I expected!”
“Well it saves you a year on crutches,” he assured. “Your hip shouldn’t be nearly as Shocking, since it’s a meatier area.”
“Whatever you say. Help me up and let’s get done.”
Gutt extended the Spout-Staff down to my level. “Arise, young apprentice.”
I elevated, (my pants wilting below my knees), & planted a flamingo jig upon fresh tendons. “Wow, it’s hardly sore,” I commented. I also noticed the state of the basement again. “The room is in much worse shape than me now,” I said, shaking a head at the bullDozed body of the cardboard possum resting precariously in three fragments, amongst a heap of guns like bruises. The Machine’s dimensions appeared to be about 4 cubic feet. My eyes went wide. “The place won’t come down, will it?”
“It’s a possibility,” he w’reckoned. Mag-netty’s rear end of wires was angled toward the ceiling, and the seat compartment was crumpled in. Another sandbag flopped into the room beside a limp tube, and some fried wiring spit up sparks.
The motion reminded me of the VolcaNOmad figures. I didn’t think I would tell Gutterson about all the freaktastic stuff I’d seen until I’d had a chance to properly sleep. He didn’t need bizarre events running through his mind on top of the tasks already ahead of us.
An abrupt but familiar burn raked across my pelvis. I hopped defensively. “Yeesh, Gutts! I didn’t say I was ready,” and rubbed at my hip.
“Sorry,” he acknowledged. “Less dread for ya, pal.”
“Rude,” I teased, and hiked my waistline above my Briefs again. “I have part of a mind to leave my stinky sock here for you to enjoy.”
“Good luck finding a fresh replacement for the day, son.”
I reached down and threw both wads at him, continuing off to retrieve my boot. “Good luck finding air freshener tough enough for the stench.”
“Don’t force me to make a sock-puppet out of you.”
“You win,” I huffed as I pulled one boot back on. “I owe you a Pie.H.D in Cycle Odd’tick-Kill warfare.”
“My my, Mr. Spry,” he said. “Now that you’re healthy again how’s about you carry the loot Supply for me.”
“Well, I’m hungry again - haven’t been cured of that,” I pointed out while strolling over to the Sack. Once I hoisted the spoils, I faced my partner again. “Also I’ve got a sloshing headache of questions.”
“Oh? I'm all ears, pardner," he claimed, flexing them without touching. "What do you need to work out before we surface up out of this joint?”
I had just divulged a few ticks too much of my disorientation. But who was really going to relate better than my Village elder? “I mean, most of the questions probably aren’t for you, Gutt, but I have one I suppose. Seen any outlandish, ehh, visions during your time fiddling around with Hashreika’s Mystical Moon powers?”
“Visions? Not lately, but shortly after my wife was slain, I started taking more camping trips with old hunters I knew.” Not Lately would suggest that Shreika had bestowed something stunning to him as well. A smile eclipsed grey-dome’s face in humor, repressing the countenance of a kid infatuated by jaunts of paradise. “At times I’d be gazing into the fire, or waiting after setting bait lures, I’d seem to get scooped into deep trances where the world would fall away. Among the moStriking things I ever saw: there was a recurring tunnel system & a Lynx that couldn’t find its way out. Eventually it fell into a pool of water, drowning. After some time, the carcass drifted out through a channel & floated along to an island, where all the dwellings were living mushrooms, surrounded by shifting neon cobblestone paths. A bunch of ragdolls abided there; they combed the rigid pelt & set the beast inside a desk drawer for a night; Upon opening the next Morning the cat is fluffy and fully aware as before. It grows to enjoy subsisting on the smoky fruits all the shrooms emit, but not long after, an earthquake cracks the landscape, which vents some hungry & suffocating stenchipedes. All the inhabitants had no ships durable enough to leave the island behind, but the once-deceased Lynx had experience with feeling trapped; it also had the best equipped body to slash back against the incursion.”
I blinked, and my head swayed. Perhaps it meant I could let my own Cats out of the bag. I detected something harmoniously familiar involving islands. “Really? That sounds tragic & stimulating.”
“As much as my body was conjoining things anyhow,” he replied. “There were other strange incidents as well, such as seeing a swarm of bats carry phones from another plane of existence: something only the winged & a few burrowing could resonate with, though the voice almost lulled into that of a tender nurse. It never quite composed into human language, nevertheless became apparent to me, having to do something about linking part of the ecosystem staying in balance between nesting area and carrying capacity. ShrieKause been known to grant similar phenomenal lessons = I think she spreads foresight over Travelers wherein she detects promises of Nurture.”