Wow, you guys are awesome, seriously. Thanks so much for the encouraging comments! Dragon Faere -- So glad you like my Stork, haha. I love the guy, and though he's probably the hardest to properly portray, he's terribly fun to write for. defectivebrainstorm -- I smiled like crazy reading your comment. I adore your stories so much that I'm all giddy to know you're reading mine.
And, well, Stork fans... I suppose this one's for you.
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Chapter 4 - Fairy Tales
A lot of people don't understand my penchant for pessimism.
To the great majority I suppose I come off as a cynical, whining, miserable sort of person, and I guess to an extent I am. I could easily place the blame on my upbringing; Terra Merb isn't exactly a land of milk and honey... unless of course that milk and honey is being rocketed through the air by a massive deadly cyclone. But more than anything I've just found that it works.
Preparing for the worst, what's so wrong with that? If the worst happens, than I know exactly what needs to be done. And if by some miracle we manage to evade the worst... unlikely... then it's that much more of a triumph.
I've been told that it must be exhausting to think the way I do. But I find it reassuring more than anything. It's a safe place, here where resolutions are devised. Hope and faith, now that requires a great deal of effort.
Leaving everything up to chance? Believing that believing will see you through your hardships?
It's something of a fantasy, isn't it?
And, well, I've never been much of a believer in fairy tales.
OoOoO
Stork was vaguely aware that his legs were moving, and that he was walking down an endless number of stairs, but his mind had yet to catch up with him. If he had to guess, his mind had popped free and rolled to the end of the hallway while three Talons were standing on his back.
"Why'd you have to take us? Where are we going?" Junko begged from somewhere ahead of him.
The Wallop had tired himself out in the struggle for freedom; he'd given up when half the population of on-duty guards had dog-piled on top of him, which to them seemed a better idea than using the collar to cause temporary paralysis as in the case of Radarr. Junko would have been a tad more difficult to carry down some forty flights of stairs.
Not that dragging him by a chain leash had proven any easier.
"Do we get to come back? Hey! No pushing. Oof!"
Poor Junko. Ever the naive and innocent one. If there were a member of the Storm Hawks that should have been made exempt from punishment and forced labour, it was their gentle giant, Junko. Then again, he was also the only one perfectly equipped for it.
Still not paying attention to the world around him, Stork felt a sudden end to the stairwell and stepped out into nothing. With a strangled cry he fell forward, unable to brace himself with his arms still chained at his back. He shut his eyes and felt massive hands snatch him around the middle and fling him sideways.
"I gotcha, Stork!" Junko smiled.
Stork hung his head, sure that his neck had just suffered some serious whiplash. On top of that, he was now stuck in a disturbing and unsanitary position under one of Junko's sweaty arms, and his face was feeling sore from exceeding the daily limit for nervous ticking.
"Great, Junko. That's really helpful..." he stiffened and kicked his legs, "How about putting me down?"
Junko obliged, setting Stork onto his feet and dusting off the Merb's shoulders like an expensive, manically-twitching statue. He then backed off to survey the area.
"That's odd." He scrunched up his face at what he saw. The stairs had come to an abrupt stop at the top of a pit, easily twelve feet deep, the walls made of featureless flat rock but for the furthest away which housed an ominous metal door.
Stork mumbled incoherent curses and set to struggling and contorting his shoulders, easing himself free from the bonds a second time.
Thin wrists: the shackle-maker's arch-nemesis.
He let them fall into the red dirt at his feet and tried to shake off the crawling feeling in his skin. He too settled his eyes on the door. It looked like the sort of door meant to release a giant, slavering beast onto unsuspecting prisoners for the amusement of its merciless keepers. And this pit was all too appropriate for such a deadly encounter to take place. He backed against the opposite wall, limps splayed... and started to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Junko scratched his horn (his own wrists had been freed by sheer force).
Stork hunched his shoulders. "Eh-heh... we're going to die."
"I don't get it."
"Open the door!"
Stork spun around to look up at the Talon calling from the stairs. His eyes then shot back to the far wall and the first sounds of latches coming free on the other side of the giant door. Teeth clenched, he sidestepped into the closest corner and tried to will himself to become invisible. Junko stood where he was, mouth gaping, only backing a few steps when the door finally started to open.
Stork had a manic half-smile on his face. Oh good. It'll eat Junko first.
"Hello?" Junko continued to back away, the moving door too large to see what awaited on the other side. A smoky smell poured into the room.
Again shaking like a leaf, Stork debated whether to cover his eyes or attempt to climb out of the pit of doom while Junko was still standing there looking stupid and delicious. But that irritating sense of duty got in the way again. He shut his eyes, cringed, and then ran forward.
"Junko, move!" He hesitated, and then tugged at the Wallop's sleeve. "Go--over there! If you stand here a minute longer you're going to be mauled and devoured by--a..." he stopped, eyes turning downward, "a... small child."
The Terradon girl stared up at them. She was holding Radarr, who was slowly regaining use of his limbs but was content to stay within her grasp. Junko folded his hands.
"Aww, poor little thing. I think you scared her, Stork."
"I... what?" It was Mr. Cheepers allover again.
She stepped forward and took the Merb's hand. Stork instinctively yanked it away from her, which didn't sit well with Junko. He put his hands on his hips like a disapproving grandmother.
"Stork, be nice! She's just a kid."
Stork held his hands in close to his chest, one finger pointing at the wide-eyed Terradon child. "Uh, Junko, need I remind you that this little girl is responsible for dumping the waste buckets?"
"Oh yeah! I thought she looked familiar!"
"Geh..."
"Well I think she wants us to follow her." Junko smiled broadly and took the waiting girl's tiny hand, leaning far forward in order to do so. Radarr chittered and the Wallop followed them into the shadowy tunnel beyond the doorway.
Stork stood where he was, limbs held stiff and crooked from stress. Land of bacteria and Talons behind him. Dark and creepy tunnel ahead. He grumbled and moved forward.
"Famous last words..."
OoOoO
"So..." Finn broke the silence that had again taken hold. He, Aerrow, and Piper were sitting in a little circle in the middle of the cell, and another uncomfortable ten minutes had gone by without an uttered word. It was driving the sharpshooter mad.
"Okay, don't hate me for asking this, but," Finn prodded the brown sack. "If he's in the mines now, can we eat Stork's bread?"
"Finn!" Both Aerrow and Piper responded in unison.
"What about the jerky lizard?"
More dirty looks.
"I'm just saying! It's gonna go to waste."
Aerrow shook his head and Piper continued to glare. Finn conceded his defeat and went back to staring at the floor, prepared to interrupt the unnerving quiet again in another ten minutes if something interesting didn't happen.
Piper sighed and concluded that the monotony wasn't helping matters. If anything, it was just giving them each an opportunity to stew in their thoughts, and those thoughts, for the moment, were far from the productive sort.
"How's your arm?" she asked Aerrow.
The red-head looked a bit startled, and then glanced at his arm as though just realizing there was something wrong with it. "Oh, I think it's all right."
"Mmm-hmm, I can see that from the way it's bleeding allover your lap," Piper gave him a sly smile. "Let me have a look."
Aerrow shrugged and pulled back his sleeve, revealing a bloodied gash across the underside of his arm. The bruise that had formed around the wound made it look much worse than it was.
"Ha, cool!" Finn leaned in for a closer look. "That's really gross, dude."
Aerrow grinned at the injury. "Yeah, and it kind of smells!"
The two of them exchanged an enthusiastic high-five.
Piper rolled her eyes. "Congratulations! Now... hold still."
In age-old wound-treating fashion, she tore a strip of fabric from one of the unused Blizzarian jackets and, after sparing just a small amount of water to rinse the gash, she wrapped and tied it tightly.
"There. I think you might live."
Aerrow playfully wiped his forehead. "Phew. Close call."
Piper had laughed and started to respond, but heard voices on the stairwell again. The sun had just set and it was too dark to make out the forms until they were standing in front of the cell. The Talons were chatting with each other as though the Storm Hawks were just animals in a zoo exhibit, one of them laughing at whatever anecdote had just been told. Eventually they turned to the bars.
"Give us the bag and the canteen," the laughing Talon said, impatience in his voice. "C'mon, c'mon, our shift is almost over. Hurry it up."
Piper looked at Aerrow and Finn. The two of them were clearly too tired to risk another fight. To avoid that from happening, she obliged and slid the food and water forward.
Aerrow jerked. "Piper, wait!--"
"Shh!"
The Talons rolled the bars back and took the canteen and the bag. Noticing that both still contained food and water, they snickered before resuming their conversation and heading back down the stairs.
"Why did you do that?" Aerrow asked.
Piper frowned at him for even thinking to question her actions. "I didn't want you fighting again! You were lucky you only got your arm scratched last time, Aerrow."
He shook his head, "I wasn't going to. I was trying to tell you to dump the bag and let us finish the water first."
"Oh..." Piper gave a nervous smile and cleared her throat. "Sorry..."
Finn was smiling also. Piper glared at him. "Don't you say it."
"Piper..."
"Don't say it, Finn."
The three friends reformed their circle and again fell into thought-stewing silence. Piper fingered her sleeve, thinking of the rare crystals of Terra Thar and the miners who were only separated from their power by Blockers. Aerrow was pondering the cave system and its potential for hiding and hoarding and organizing.
After ten minutes, Finn carried out his duty of interrupting the silence. He grinned at Piper.
"Told you we should have eaten it."
OoOoO
The tunnel had lightened once Junko, Stork, Radarr, and their guide had rounded the first bend. Torches were set in the walls on either side, spaced at ten foot intervals, flickering against the red rock in such a way as to incite visions of a stereotypical Hell. From somewhere within the cave system came the distinct and now familiar sound of picks hitting stone.
Stork eyed the torches. "Well, I think it's safe to say that we're... in the mines."
"It's not so bad," Junko smiled, fingering a quartz deposit, "kinda pretty."
The Terradon girl led them into a side tunnel, which opened up into a large cavern, this area lit not only by torches but also a massive number of Blocker Crystals all situated within the cave ceiling. The cart tracks they'd seen outside were also present in this chamber, winding down a far-off inclined tunnel, circling the cavern in its entirety, and leaving the same way. Exhausted prisoners with picks and shovels were positioned everywhere, and an almost equal number of Talons conducted a constant sweep, forever hovering around individual groups of miners like vultures waiting for someone to drop.
"Oh yeah," Stork's face had lost most of its colour, "it's beautiful, Junko."
The little girl had already started to walk away. Radarr squawked in protest.
"Wait!" Junko trotted after her. "What do we do now?"
She turned back, ever so slowly. Radarr pulled himself free of her grasp and found a new position on Junko's shoulder. He shook himself off like a wet dog, willing away the last of the paralysis. The Wallop bent forward again.
"Are you all alone here?" he asked her. The girl remained quiet, large eyes staring blankly.
"What's your name?"
No response. Stork sidled up, hands still curled close (because you never could be sure when someone, or something, might suddenly feel it prudent to lop off your arms). The Terradon girl turned her eyes to him but stayed silent.
"Hm, a child that doesn't speak. I've changed my mind, she's not so bad."
A crash from one end of the work site grabbed their attention. Stork and Junko turned to see that someone had lost hold of one of the carts as they'd tried to push it up the incline. It had rolled back into the carts behind, all of them spilling their contents of rocks and crystals and interrupting the overall flow of ceaseless toil. Shouting ensued, and those prisoners in the vicinity of the accident quickly fled back while the slave-driving Talons swarmed in to locate the responsible party. No single miner willing to admit guilt, the Cyclonians targeted anyone who hadn't managed to flee the scene, maliciously striking them each in turn with their respective weapons, and then ordering the mess be cleaned.
Stork had ducked behind his living-shield of a companion, and peered out only when the shouting had died down. "Okay. Remind me not to let that happen..."
"It was only an accident!" Junko's face was full of anger and confusion. He turned to speak with the little girl again, but she had fled along with others during the commotion.
Talons were now rounding everyone up to resume working. The groups slowly re-formed and the picking and shoveling and pushing of carts continued. Everything was as it should be... except for the Merb and the Wallop (plus furry shoulder friend) standing baffled in a tunnel entrance.
"You two! What do you think you're doing? Get over here!"
Stork pointed to himself and then shook his head, pointing instead to Junko and Radarr. He started backing off the way they'd come, but three guards were fast advancing.
"Are you deaf? Move! Get to your groups!"
Junko raised his hands. "We're new!"
Stork nodded, clinging defensively to the tunnel wall. "Very new! Probably too new to be of any real value."
"Value?" The Talons laughed. "If you have working arms and legs you're of value."
Stork flinched and cursed the day his embryonic self had decided to form arms and legs.
"Over there." The laughter long gone, one of the Talons pointed to a side chamber furthest from where they were standing, only a small group of workers collected there. "Join your snow-bunny friends and expect to work an extra hour today for wasting our time."
Junko gave a sad nod, stepped forward, stopped, turned, peeled Stork from the wall, and the two of them walked through the main chamber toward their assigned work area. Radarr was crouched as low on the Wallop's shoulder as was physically manageable, whimpering and chittering at every horrible sight he took in.
And there were quite a few. The workers were in bad shape beyond a layer of filth and badly tattered clothing. Most were bruised and bleeding, pale from the lack of sun, panting from thirst, and wasted from too much toil and too little food. Though Stork appeared to be the only Merb, Junko saw a number of Wallops among the miners. It pulled at his heart to see them treated like animals; weakened and cowering instead of heroically moving terras in bedtime stories.
"Don't worry, Stork," he spoke in a firmer tone now. "We'll find a weak spot. We'll get everyone out of here."
Stork had trailed behind, finding it difficult to keep up whilst also trying to avoid flying picks and rolling carts. "Hah! Why would I worry? It's not like we're both going to die down here while we hopelessly search for clues--D'ah!" Stork ducked in order to avoid decapitation by a swinging shovel.
"It's not hopeless, Stork! We're the good guys!"
"This isn't a fairy tale, Junko. There are no magic beans, Wallops don't carry terras, and the good guys don't always win." Stork briefly avoided tripping over a rock, ducked under a Talon's outstretched arm, spun away from two hurried workers, and then tripped over a rock anyway.
"Well that doesn't mean we should just give up."
"Sometime's that's preferable to trying and failing."
Junko shook his head. He didn't believe that. There was no such thing as a definite failure. So long as he had the strength to keep trying, he would do just that.
Stork stopped trying to catch up and concentrated instead on not getting killed. He knew he shouldn't discourage Junko. The oblivious Wallop was probably the only one in that cave with any hope left, and he knew that hope was a powerful weapon. He'd had hope. He'd gone against his usual pessimism and put faith in Aerrow's plan. There were a few moments, however fleeting, that he had actually believed they couldn't lose in such a perfectly straight-forward battle between good and evil. But when they did... and when he had been responsible for it... maybe the fear and the uncertainty might have come in handy. He knew he would have at least made sure that message was clear.
"Well, hello there! You two made it, eh?"
Stork wandered up to the Absolute Zeroes, head hanging low as Junko eagerly greeted the three of them with open arms. Suzi-Lu embraced Junko and then hugged the Merb from behind, shocking him out of his trance of self-loathing.
"They got us right after you. Radarr too," Junko informed her. Radarr sat up again, offering a wave.
"Well, that's a shame there. But at least we get to be workin' buddies, eh? There's picks and shovels over 'round that cart there, boys, help yerselves."
Junko happily marched away to select some tools. Suzi-Lu remained next to Stork, who was trying to evade further crushing embraces by appearing interested in the fabrication of the cart tracks.
"So then, what's the plan, eh?" she asked, bright eyed and eager.
Stork raised an eyebrow. "P-plan?"
"Oh I bet Aerrow an' Piper've been cookin' something up since you stepped foot here! They're smart cookies, those two. What can we do to help?"
"Uh, help. Well..."
Junko arrived with a pick and a shovel. "Here you go, Stork!"
Stork looked up just in time for a heavy pickaxe to land against his chest and throw him clean off of his feet.
One of the male Absolute Zeroes stepped forward, casually holding his own pickaxe over one shoulder. He looked down at the Merb's crumpled form. "Gotta lift with yer knees there, eh?"
Stork struggled back to his feet, hunched over the pick. If that impact hadn't caused his ribs to break and skewer one of his lungs, he would be very surprised. Junko gave the nervous laugh he generally did when he inadvertently injured someone, and Stork, with a great deal of effort, lifted the mining tool to gauge just how quickly this exercise was going to kill him.
"My plan, at the moment?" He rested the pick against the wall. "Is to try and live until the end of this shift..."
--
Well, he almost found out if a pickaxe to the brain was worse than Junko's story...