Alex Reynard
The Library
Alex Reynard's Online Books
Chapter Forty-Eight
"Hiiii-eee! Wake up, sleepyhead!"
Bright lights nibbled Toby's eyes when he opened them. His lids slammed shut again. He'd only seen fuzzy, indiscernible blobs of color. The mouse didn't know where he was, but he did know his bed was rather uncomfortable. Chilly surgical steel.
He was starting to get an idea.
He risked looking again, prepared for the light this time. Though he was unprepared for a neon-green nose in his face.
The nose's owner spoke again. "Glad to have you back! Your friends are doing just fine. Want some help getting down from there? We've got coffee and danishes, free of charge!"
A helpful paw helped him sit up. The metal was cold beneath his tush, and that's when Toby realized that he was not just in a morgue, but naked in a morgue. "YEEK!"
The attendant giggled. "Don't gotta be modest. I've seen eighty thousand dead dicks pass through this joint."
Toby imploded into a ball, trying to cover everything at once. "Maybe so, but I'd still like to know where my clothes are!"
"I'll go get 'em, doncha worry!"
The attendant winked and skipped away. Shi was a wolf with matte black fur and day-glo green flesh. Nose, ears, paws: the works. Plus, from the way hir cartoony little nurse's outfit bulged, shi seemed to be packing some nonstandard equipment up front.
Toby found himself sitting on a reflective silver slab. Just one of many down here. The architecture was a mixture of gothic arches, pristine tile, and sharp silver. There was a wall full of square doors behind him, all presumably full of other stiffs. 'Though... don't dead people come back to life pretty quickly in Phobiopolis?' Maybe this was just a room to chill out for a while. Toby chuckled, realizing he'd inadvertently punned.
The wolf returned with a small pile of neatly-folded blue. Hir tail was wagging happily. "Here we go! Expertly washed and pressed. Just like you!"
Toby placed the pile of garments over his sensitive areas. "Just like me?" He noticed the wolf's nametag said "Zhiral", and wasn't sure if that rhymed with 'viral' or 'squirrel'.
Shi nodded. "That's my job! Dead doods come in, I give 'em the spa treatment. Viscera cleanup, sponge bath, patch their clothes, etcetera."
Toby flushed a bit, thinking about this stranger doing stuff to him while unconscious. Though shi did seem quite professional about it.
"I made sure not to clean your tummy too much," she said with a chuckle.
Toby looked down. Something was written on him. It was hard to decipher upside down but...
It was Luxy Bleeder's signature. He'd signed his handiwork.
Zhiral sighed enviously. "Lucky..."
Memories of his latest death came rushing back to Toby. The memory seemed somehow distant, as if it had happened days ago. The whole trial felt like that, actually. How long had he slept down here? Did the morgue somehow slow down resurrection?
"Your friends are already up 'n about in the lounge. Come join 'em whenever you're ready." Zhiral headed through the door hirself to give the mouse some privacy.
Toby searched through the pile of garments for his underpants and fumbled them on. He thought back to after the verdict, feeling considerably conflicted. On the one hand, Luxy's "gift" for their actions was to freakin' murder them. To call that 'not normal' would be an understatement. And yet, Zinc knew about it. The crowd did too. Maybe it was some kind of ceremony or tradition. Toby wasn't sure if the violence itself, or its unexpectedness, bothered him more. 'Though this is probably what it was like for the others when they got their hearts eaten by Lady Xenoiko,' he thought.
And that reminded him of something else. He blushed, remembering. What Luxy's knife did to him had felt... almost good. There was not just an absence of pain, but an uncommonly intense endorphin rush. Was that part of the raccoon's technique? Or was his blade so sharp as to cause whatever it touched to cleave willingly?
Something to ask about later. Toby got his sandals on and headed for the door.
The lounge was a small room with puffy sofas, a coffee machine, a snack table, some still life paintings on the wall, and a ceiling so low that the top of George's head kept bonking it. As Toby entered, he tried not to let vertigo get the better of him when he glanced out the window and saw that, like RB&WB's garage, this building was hanging from the underside of Bigwheel Five.
"THERE HE IS!!" Zinc roared, raising his cup of coffee like toasting a conquering warrior. Junella mirrored the gesture.
"Yay for Toby!" Piffle said, applauding.
"Well done, Sire!" George added.
The mouse was befuddled for a moment. "What? What'd I do?"
Zinc blinked. "Don't tell me you lost your mem'ries, chief! Your big kiester-saving idea at the trial?"
Toby smacked his forehead. "Oh, right! But it wasn't that big of a deal, was it? I didn't even know if it'd work."
"'The certain path is rarely found, and victors must often clear their own brush'," George recited. "I heard that once and it inspired me."
"I'm almost disgusted I didn't think of it first," Zinc admitted. "But, I suppose, I'm so used to my wrenches, I don't even give a thought anymore how they work. S'just second nature."
Toby nodded. "...But to me, the idea of stuff being bloodpowered was new enough to stick in my brain."
"I'm glad it did," Junella sang sincerely. She seemed to be in a good mood. "I was not looking forward to another day in that courtroom. Especially in those chairs. Hard as rocks. You saved my ass literally, mouse."
He chuckled and headed for an empty spot on the sofa between Zinc and Piffle.
"Have a nice nap?" the hamsterfly asked as he settled in.
"I suppose so. I hope I haven't kept you guys long."
"Nah, just got here ourselves," Junella sang as she munched a danish. One of the benefits of her body was that she could speak perfectly clear even with her mouth full.
George passed Toby a tray full of ripe strawberries. "They're delicious!" he said through clamped teeth.
"Thanks!"
"You got autographed too," Piffle noticed through his vest.
"Yup. He did you guys?"
Piffle pulled up her blouse, showing Luxy's name on her exoskeleton. "He sure did!"
"Same here," Zinc added.
Junella brushed her scarf away. "Can you read it?" she asked the others. They leaned in.
Not only had Luxy used gold ink so it could be seen against her black vinyl, but he'd added a personalized message:
To J. Brox. I never forget a face twice.
"Awwww!" said Piffle. "That was sweet of him!"
"You forgive him now, Juney-pie?" Zinc teased.
She rolled her eyes. "Mmmmaybe."
"What'd he do for you, George?" Toby asked.
"I had hoped it would be obvious," the stallion said, sounding a little vain. He turned his flanks side to side and Toby could see the lights glisten off them. All the splinters had been sanded off and a thorough buff and polish had been applied. The skeletal horse was still jet black, but he now looked clean as a museum display.
"Oh, I see now! You look good, George. Very sleek."
He trotted in place happily.
Zhiral swiveled around, looking for hir clipboard. "Where izzit? I swear I'd lose my brain if it wasn’t locked up in my skull. Ah, there! I wanted you guys to all be together to sign this." She held up the board for everyone to see. "Just a standard li'l legal document. It says you acknowledge your status as having been declared innocent by reason of extraordinary excuse. There's also some stuff about how you're not liable for anything that got destroyed; about how Rippingbeep & Woofinbutt waived the shoplifting charge once they heard the verdic', and also the receipt of $3,427 Luxybux in restitution for theft of personal property and false accusation by one Mr. Cleanup Crew."
She held up a thick roll of colorful bills and Zinc nimbly nabbed it. "I'll take that, thanks."
Junella wasn't sure if the payment was standard or if Luxy had taken her last suggestion seriously. "Seems like kind of an odd amount. Not that we're complaining."
"It's all Mr. Cleanup had in his personal bank account," Zhiral explained.
Zinc beamed with schadenfreude. "I like this town."
"There's also a note here from Judge Luxy," the herm wolf continued. "He applauds your courageous actions, but suggests very strongly that you guys "get the hell out of Dodge", since there's still alotta people in the city who're mad about all the shit ya knocked over."
Zinc grimaced. "That is sound advice. Good thing we were thinkin' about puttin' the pedal down anyway."
Toby blinked. "Really? I understand, but... I dunno if I'm ready to get on the road again so soon. We've been through a lot. Couldn't we rest here for a few days? Maybe someplace low-key?"
The others all looked a bit startled at this.
"I thought you were all revved up to get home, chief," Zinc said.
"Did you forget where you hired us to bring you?" asked Junella.
Toby blanked for a second as he realized that, yes, he had. For a while now, his goal of Anasarca had been completely absent from his thoughts. That stunned him. How could something so important have left his mind? And when had it gone?
"I guess we could..." Zinc considered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe a cheap hotel somewhere in the middle Bigwheels. Might still get spotted though. I doubt you wanna sleep with one eye open, watchin' for people with vendettas and tire irons sneakin' into the room."
"I guess not." Toby fidgeted on the sofa. "I think I'm just feeling overwhelmed. Everything that's happened in the last few days... I'm almost glad I got a little rest in the morgue. But I think I want more. All this excitement is bad for my stomach. And, I admit... I've been having second thoughts about Anasarca."
Junella immediately tensed into a growling stormcloud.
Toby winced, having known she wouldn't react well to that.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I suspected all along you might pussy out, but you were starting to convince me otherwise," she said coldly.
"Hey! Don't be mean!" Piffle defended.
"I'm not saying I'm backing out!" Toby insisted. "Just... well... can you blame me for having the feeling? My nerves were frayed even before we got mixed up with that muskrat, and now they're practically fricasseed. Can you blame me for just wanting to find a relatively safe corner to curl up in and have nothing bad happen to me for a while?"
Junella didn't say anything, but nibbled her lip.
"We all feel that sometimes," Piffle reassured.
Zhiral had respectfully moved to a corner of the room to let them hash this out, but piped in to say, "I know I have sometimes."
George said nothing, but nuzzled against his master's ear.
Junella looked solemn and spoke low. "I'm not gonna lie and say the thought's never crossed my mind either. But it's one that's easy to give in to. It's easy to just crawl inside your bellybutton and think about stayin' there. That feeling can trap you. Better to face it. Keep moving." She sighed. "...But if that's not something you can handle, Toby, lay it on me now. There's adoption centers here. We can take you right there, part ways, and you can find a home here and be taken care of."
Toby's eyes widened. That was an option?
The skunk did not like the eagerness she saw in the mouse's expression. "Sure you can. Sure. And you can stagnate. Sit on your ass. Be safe. Never grow a thicker skin. Never train yourself up so when life hits hard, you plant your feet and tell it to hit harder. This has been a shitty visit to EC, I admit. And I ain't got no good news for you either. The road we're planning to take is relatively easy by Phobopolis standards, but it's still gonna suck lemons all the way. The maze is gonna be bad, and Dysphoria is gonna make Fugax look like a bake sale. It is only going to get harder, Toby."
She locked eyes with him. "But you will too."
Zinc nodded, and patted his partner's knee in appreciation. "Well-put." He eased his gaze back to Toby. "That's the question you have to ask. Easy or hard? Which one's worth more to you?"
The small white mouse did not like the feeling of being put on the spot like this. As if he had to make the choice right this instant. He looked down at the beige carpet. To be honest, his heart was pleading with him to go to the adoption center. Find a new mommy and daddy. Then life could go back to being simple again. And. he supposed, if he agreed to keep going, that would also be partly due to cowardice. The embarrassment of dragging his friends all this way for nothing.
His friends...
He looked up, into all their faces.
Junella. Zinc. Piffle. George.
And something inside shoved him towards a decision.
"Let's go find the car, and head out."
Unsurprisingly, Piffle tackled him in a hug.
"Good to hear, tiger!" Zinc said, tail wagging. "We'll try not to make the ride too bumpy. First part's Hypovolemia, and for that, all you gotta do is stay in the backseat and close your eyes if we pull too many G's."
"Doesn't sound exactly appealing, but thank you, Zinc." He glanced at Junella.
She didn't say anything, but gave him a wry smile like she already knew he had more guts than he let on.
"Sire Toby," George said solemnly, "I understand your desire for a safe place. Let me pledge then, that you will always have one. By my side."
Toby looked up, genuinely touched by that, and got off the couch to hug his friend's big bony foreleg.
From the corner, Zhiral squeaked a little sob. "Oh geez, you guys are just so adorable together!!"
***
They all signed the form (George held the pen in his teeth), and Zhiral gave them enthusiastic hugs to wish them well on their journey. She wasn't the type to try for Anasarca herself, but she encouraged them to come back and write a book if they made it.
"The exit's just that way. Up the stairs, turn left at the T, and there's a little elevator at the end of the hall. Bye, guys! Good luck!!"
They said their goodbyes and Zinc tipped her a large denomination Luxybuck. Her directions were solid. Soon they were at the elevator.
Zinc reassured everyone that their clean getaway was assured. "The new and improved Fearsleigher's already down at ground level in the garage. Got the ticket for 'er in my pocket. And yes, Juney, I checked that it didn't get deep-sixed in the wash."
Toby's chest felt tight. His heart was already kicking him for passing up on the chance at easy street. But as he looked around his little group clustered in the bright hallway, he actually felt a bit hopeful.
As before, forgetting about their clothes had returned them to good-as-new condition. And Zhiral had even done some alterations. Zinc's leather jacket had never looked better. George and Junella both had a nice glossy sheen. Piffle was back to full pinkness. And his own vest and shorts burst with blue.
They looked like they could take on the world.
They rode the cramped car up through the carved interior of a Bigwheel spoke. It emerged on a busy avenue about a block from the courthouse. Ectopia Cordis was bustling as usual. Freaks of every kind hurried to and fro on the carpetwalks. An elephant with no head, her facial features stretched across her bare chest. A teenage girl so thin she looked like she weighed less than the assault rifle she was carrying. A midget with a grandfather clock growing up from his back, tick-tocking with his every step.
And then, from behind them, came a loud shout of, "IT'S THEM!!!"
Followed by, "LET'S GET 'EM!!!"
The fivesome looked around to see a mob so huge it clogged the street. Even from this distance, Toby recognized some of the enraged fursons from the witness stand. They were all former employees of the Panjandrum Mall. They had been camping out, waiting for this moment. And every last one of them was armed.
"Oh fuck," said Toby.
Imagine four people and a horse all trying to scramble out of an elevator at the same time. They put on a brief slapstick act for the rest of the pedestrians as they all tried to simultaneously squeeze past George. Piffle got her head stepped on. Thankfully, they finally succeeded. Zinc pointed out the fastest carpetwalk heading away from the lynch mob and they all tripped a few times dashing for it.
Behind them came a roar of vengeance. Managers, clerks, salesmen and cell-phone vendors came pouring down the street in a flood. Fists shaking, weapons drawn. There were even honest-to-god pitchforks raised. A stampede of feet pounded the carpetwalks. Bullets started whizzing by.
Junella shouted behind her, "You're all gettin' vacation time 'cause of us! Show some gratitude!"
"Yes, antagonize them, Juney. That is a wonderful idea," Zinc deadpanned
A hatchet hit the carpetwalk a foot to Toby's left. "Can we possibly go faster!?" he squeaked.
"You need but only ask, my friends!" George said cheerfully. "Grab a rib!"
They all reached out and secured a firm grip, knowing that if they didn't, they might lose some fingers.
"Head for the edge!" Zinc shouted.
"My plan already," George concurred, and blasted off. Divots of carpet rained behind him.
Toby's ears nearly popped. He clamped down till his knuckles turned white. The sound of the mob behind him vanished rapidly as George poured on the horsepower. All around him, Ectopians screamed and dove out of the way. George was one hell of a taxi.
Toby realized this would very likely be his last look at Phobiopolis' grandest city, so he tried to make the most of it. The eye-searing colors, the spinning shops, the pierced and puzzled-together citizenry. This would have been an amazing place to spend a longer time exploring. But the gunshots still aimed in his direction were a pretty unmistakable message that it was not meant to be.
"Edge in sight!" George called out. A moment later the others could feel the change in temperature as they left the aura of heat from the city's main shaft, into the winds that swirled around the circumference.
An unpleasant thought hit Toby. "We're not taking another elevator down, are we?"
"That's a negative, copilot deLeon!" Zinc hollered cheerfully. "Remember the waterfall?"
He did. He was not fond of the waterfall.
"I could try to catch you, like I did for Junella before," Piffle offered.
And it was a tempting offer. But Toby remembered what they'd just discussed in the lounge. Easy or hard. "Thanks, Piffle, but I gotta get used to things like this sometime. Might as well be now."
Her antennae bobbed happily. "That's wonderful, Toby! I'm very proud of-"
"GERONIMO!!!" Zinc shouted.
And then there was nothing but five stories of air between them and the pavement.
Gravity socked Toby in the gut and the groin. Oh, he did not like falling. The wind screamed in his ears and slapped at his cheeks.
He watched Junella let go of George and assume a swan dive pose. Her long white scarf trailed behind her like a comet tail. She glanced at Toby and stuck her tongue out.
"I'm not quite ready to do THAT!" he said to himself, clutching tighter to George's ribcage.
"You wanna pick up something for dinner before we head out?" Zinc called over casually.
"It'd be our last hot meal for a while. Good idea. Nothing too spicy though."
'They're just showing off to tease me,' Toby thought. 'Gotta be.'
The parking lot spun like a kaleidoscope below them. Endless vehicles in every color. And directly below, the ring of debris. A nice big garbage mountain to break their fall. And their bones too.
'I'll be fine, I'll be fine, I'll be fine,' Toby repeated to himself. His instincts were bleating in panic. The ground drew closer. The wind howled louder. 'I held my own heart in my paws and woke up in a morgue. I will be fine!' he insisted. His rational side tried its hardest, but it was going to take a hell of a lot longer before his body started listening.
Those nightmare pigs were rooting around. Toby hoped he wouldn't land on one. Or that they'd start eating him the moment he woke up.
The ground was getting closer. The onrushing air felt like a hailstorm, but he couldn't make his eyes close.
'No last-second saves. I'm going to hit the ground, and die, and it's not gonna be the end.'
His instincts weren't buying it, but he at least felt a little pride at trying.
SPLAT!!!
***
He remembered an instant of transcendent excruciation as his nose compacted into his spine. But now it was over. The pain was no more than an echo. Toby's eyes were open, he was facedown in trash, and the worst sensation he currently had to deal with was the smell.
He heard a snort.
He looked up to see an enormous, mucus-dripping, tri-nostrilled snout pointed at him. It gusted a wave of bad breath at him like dumpster fumes in August. Toby skittered backwards and his hammer shot into his palm without conscious thought.
Then there was a flash of electricity, a pissed-off squeal, and the garbage hog ran away.
Standing there was a parking lot attendant with a heavy-duty electrical prod. "Good evening, folks!"
"Thanks for chasing the piggy away!" said Piffle.
"It's my job," he replied with a tip of his cap, and chased off after another porker.
The fivesome got themselves unstuck from the mound of food wrappers, newspapers, pizza crusts, eyeglasses, bullet casings, and birdshit. They slid down the side to regroup.
"I seem to have something stuck in my pelvis," George reported. "Would one of you be so kind as to..."
"No problem, sweethooves," Piffle said, and extracted a bicycle's handlebars.
Toby's heart was still beating fast, but he enjoyed getting to say, 'I told you so,' to himself. It was over and he was fine. Although the same couldn't be said for his newly-clean clothes.
Junella picked some gum off her shoulder. "It does get easier," she whispered to him. "It just takes time."
He thanked her with a smile. "Also, there's a coney dog in your tail."
"Motherf-." She shook it loose and record shards flew all over.
Zinc vaulted onto George's back and took command. "No idea where the garage is from here, but if we keep goin' in a circle we can't help but find it. Piff, Toby, you guys are gonna shit bricks when you see what we did to the car. Oooh, damn! Just thinking about it's gettin' me stiff! Forward march!" He pointed the way and George dutifully headed off.
Then the canine paused, as if having a profound thought. He turned back to the others. "Y'know, I think maybe we should skip going to the mall next time we're in town."
"YA THINK!?" Junella bellowed. "Piffle, find me something vile to throw at him!"
Zinc grinned.
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END OF BOOK TWO
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