Chapter 6

Rocky Mountain High

Far too high up

-RHONDA-

This is where my life has led me.

Here, on this cliffside in the mountains, the cold wind in my face reminding me that it was early December. Stuck in this body that was mine, yet not mine. Far away from everything and everyone I knew.

"C'mon, Princess, ya gotta try this!"

Almost everyone.

Helga was hanging there in front of me, staying aloft by slowly flapping her wings. "Do you see this?" she said. "Do you see how much not falling I'm doing?"

"That's… cool, Helga," I managed. Out here, in the open, reality was starting to set in.

Ever since waking up in that cell, everything had had an odd, dreamlike quality. Like it wasn't really happening to me. That disconnect and a healthy dose of adrenaline [Phoebe's Note: Quite understandable when you possess four kidneys and, consequently, four adrenal glands] had carried me up to this point. I had been shot today, and now even the bruises were gone, healed so completely there was no sign they had been there in the first place. It was all so unreal.

Now, though, the cold air was like a slap in my face. And in other parts, some that shouldn't have even existed. I felt the cold in my wings, in my tail, in my extra arms. Each one reminding me that any hope I had for any sort of normal life was gone.

And here Helga was, rubbing it in. She'd gotten the hang of flight almost instinctively, like everything else. She moved in her new body as if she'd been born with it, whereas I was slow and clumsy, fumbling with control of my new limbs. I couldn't even think of relying on wings I barely knew how to use, but Helga had taken to flight like it was second nature and in this light she's kinda… no, I really didn't wanna deal with that right now, that was for later.

"C'mon, Lloyd… jump in. The air's fine." She held out a hand to me. "Probably the fastest way of getting down anyway. You know, besides falling. And I don't think you wanna do that."

"It'd be over, wouldn't it?" I found myself saying.

There was a surprising look of real concern rolling over Helga's face. She dropped down and landed next to me. "You don't really think that, do you?"

"…no," I admitted. "It's just that... we're focused on going home. Like that's a solution. But… what are we going home to? We'll still be refugees from a freak show. Going home won't fix… this."

"It's a goal, Rhondaloid. You gotta have a goal to focus on, or you're gonna go crazy. Right now, getting home is the best goal I can think of. Once we do that, we can focus on the next thing.

I sighed. "I had plans, you know. There were things I was going to do with my life. I was going to design my own clothing line. I was going to be in a big Broadway musical. I was going to draw an autobiographical manga. I was going to play bass in a Bangles/Go-Go's cover band called 'The Baubles'. I was… I was going to learn to play bass. None of that is happening now. Or college. Or dating. Or… even going outside." Tears were welling up in my eyes now (all of them; as if I didn't know what a freak I was, feeling a teardrop drip from my upper eye and roll down my nose was yet another reminder). "So maybe sitting here on this ledge for the rest of my life is the best thing for me."

Helga sat down beside me. "Y'know, a lot of that stuff sounds pretty interesting, actually. I had no idea you could draw."

"I'm not exactly good yet, but I've been at it for a while."

"Well… are you suddenly not able to draw?"

"Huh?"

"What I'm saying is… is there any reason you can't do all those things? You can still draw that manga. You can still learn an instrument… maybe you can learn to play one of those guitars that are, like, double guitars. And hey… directors LOVE unconventional casting. You could be the first four-armed purple Eliza Doolittle."

"That… seems unlikely…"

"The point is… this isn't the end of our lives, Princess. It's our origin story. Our radioactive spider. Our blue midget with a magic ring. Our weird old wizard in a subway tunnel. Point is I read a lot of comic books." She laid a hand on my shoulder. "We draw our own stories. We've just been given a whole new set of pencils to do it with."

I smiled in spite of myself. "If I get up, will you stop assaulting me with mixed metaphors?"

"I promise nothing." She stood up, offering me a hand. "Up and at them, Rondaloid."

I got to my feet, looking over the vista of the mountains. "We really are awfully high up," I said unnecessarily.

"We sure are. Climbing down would take forever. Time to pop the ol' wing-cherry." She prodded me. "C'mon, you know you wanna. "

"I… I'm not sure I can." My wings had completely locked up once I'd gotten a look at the altitude.

"Sure you can. It's instinct. Your body's MADE for flying."

"That sounds easy to say for you. You're an instant expert! But I'm not sure I can let instinct take over."

"Of course you can. See?" she said as she shoved me over the edge.

The wind rushed by and the ground rushed up at me and oh crap oh crap I wanted to LIVE! I beat my wings as furiously as I could and my descent started to slow and finally stopped.

There I hung, wings holding me aloft in the midst of nothingness. This… was amazing.

"See, what did I tell you? Instinct!" Helga was bobbing there right beside me, a shit-eating grin on her face."

"What… the hell… is WRONG with you?!" I gasped out, having not quite caught my breath (there may have been a lot of screaming). "You literally just… pushed me… off a MOUNTAIN!"

"I was gonna catch you!" she protested. "You know, if you hadn't saved yourself. Which I knew you'd do."

"You… you are… UNBELIEVABLE."

"Hey. You were frozen. You needed to be pushed out of your comfort zone or you were never going to move. Really, you should be thanking me."

"Oh, yes. Absolutely." I said, my hands reaching for her. "Let me THANK you."

"…actually, now that I think about it, thanking me really isn't that necessary..." she said, backing away."

"No, no, I insist," I growled. "Let me give your throat a BIG HUG."

INTERLUDE

Heyerdahl Residence

"Gerald, Arnold, how y'all doin'" Reba said upon opening the door. "I take it you're here to visit Phoebe?'

"That's right, ma'am." Gerald said.

"Phoebe, sug', your friends are here," Reba called.

"Did they bring my homework?" Phoebe shouted back. Even sick, Phoebe's priority was clear.

"You KNOW we wouldn't show up here without it." Gerald called back to her.

"Very well, come in!"

"And Mrs. Heyerdahl," Arnold warned, "Careful who you talk to or let in. Two other girls got sick almost at the same time Phoebe did. One was kidnapped and one just… disappeared. I think there's something deeper happening here."

"Surely it's a coincidence?" Reba asked. "The most reasonable explanation is usually the simplest."

"One of the missing girls is Helga Pataki," Arnold continued, his hand unconsciously clutching the object in his pocket.

"Phoebe's friend? Are you sure she isn't just in one of her moods? Phoebe tells me that Helga's always having these moody spells, usually resolved by taking these long walks, usually for ice cream."

As the two made their way to Phoebe's room, Gerald suggested "Y'know, Arnold, she might be right. Maybe Helga's just… doin' her Helga thing. Maybe she'll just show up at home on her own."

"Maybe… we'll go there next, see if she did. But I have this sinking feeling about this whole situation.

They entered Phoebe's room. "M'lady… I come bearing gifts from Mr. Frank," he said, handing over several sheets from his backpack. "Algebra: All the even numbered problems in chapter 12. History: the chapter on the French Revolution. English: an essay on the use of political satire in Gulliver's Travels, due Monday. Science, read chapter 9."

Phoebe poked her head out from the mound of blankets on the bed. Her hair, usually in a pompadour and ponytail, now lay limp over her pale, sweaty face. Oddest of all, though, was her lack of glasses. Her face looked practically naked without them."

"I am most gratified, Gerald." She said weakly.

"Whoa, you don't look so hot," Gerald said. "This flu's really doing a number on you."

"I'm fairly certain this ailment does not correspond to any known strain of the influenza virus." Phoebe replied. "Nor any other known to modern medicine."

"What do you mean?" Arnold asked. Things were definitely starting to click together in his mind.

"Well… the first thing I did upon arriving home was to research my symptoms on NetDr. While the fever and pains were reminiscent of influenza, I lacked any of the other typical symptoms of such a condition. But even the existing symptoms seemed… unusual. The fever, for example, did not seem to be affecting my cognitive skills, and the pain was concentrated in specific areas rather than generalized.

"It only got odder from there. I began to develop severe headaches, but they cleared up when I removed my glasses… and for good reason. My nearsightedness seems to have corrected itself on its own."

"You're saying you don't need glasses anymore?" Gerald questioned. "Man, what kind of disease actually makes your eyesight better?"

"The same responsible for these," Phoebe replied, dropping her blanket, revealing the protrusions on her back.

"Holy crap" was all Gerald could get out.

"These… growths, for lack of a more precise term, formed mere minutes before your arrival. And I fear they are not the last ones. "

Arnold nodded. "This isn't a disease at all, is it."

"No. It is clearly some matter of metamorphosis. And I'm not certain what the end result will be. If I will retain my identity. Though… there is a certain… scientific curiosity to be had…" She shook her head. "No, no. That's just rationalization!"

"Relax, baby," Gerald. "We'll be here for you. Even if we have to-"

"No," Phoebe said firmly. "I appreciate the sentiment… it's quite sweet actually… but there is no way you will skip school on my behalf! Promise me!"

"But-"

"PROMISE ME!"

"…promise."

"Thank you, Gerald. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I just feel very strongly about it."

"It's making more sense now," Arnold said. "If this is what's happening to you, I bet it's also happening to Helga and Rhonda. Which means that whoever grabbed Rhonda probably also has Helga, and I wouldn't be surprised if you're a target too."

"Wait… did you say someone grabbed Helga?"

"There's no way to know. Maybe they did… maybe she managed to get away. All I have to go on is this." He produced the locket."

"Oh dear… Helga would never willingly abandon her most precious memento. I fear you are correct about her likely abduction."

"I promise, we're not giving up on her… but right now, I don't know how we can help her. The best we can do is get you to someone who can help you, somewhere safe and protected. Fortunately… I happen to know an expert in exotic biology…"

-OKAY, BACK TO ME NOW-

No, I didn't murder her.

I'm not just gonna forgive her – bitch pushed me off a goddamned mountain – but in the end, I don't really have it in me to do that kind of thing.

And besides… I kind of need her. I will never, ever admit it, but Helga's smarter than I am. Probably second in the school behind Phoebe, actually. I'm better off with her than without her.

She did kind of pull me out of my misery spiral.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not happy about this, not by a long shot. I doubt I'll ever be happy with this. But at least I feel a little more comfortable in my new skin. I have better control over all my new body parts.

"You're gonna have to talk to me eventually, you know." We were flying now, along the valley between the mountains. "You said it yourself, talking to each other is gonna help us stay sane."

"Fine," I said. "You wanna talk, you can tell me what was so important earlier that you had to ditch me over it."

"Oh, right… that… happened. Look… it's… really not something I'm comfortable talking about. Not yet. And you're not the best there is at keeping secrets."

She had me there. "Devastating stuff, huh. I… actually have my share of that. Tell you what… you show me yours… I'll show you mine."

"Hmm… mind-blowing dirt on Princess Rhonda Lloyd, huh… It might actually be worth it. Okay… I'm not ready to talk right now, but… I'll think about it."

"Right. So… uh… what do we do now?"

"Our priorities right now are finding out where exactly we are and how to get home from there, putting distance between us and this place, and…" I could hear her stomach growling. "Finding food and water, because I'm pretty sure those are things we still need." I was reminded that I, too, hadn't had anything in the last day or so besides one of those compressed "food" bars, which was now sitting in her gut attempting to be digested.

"That sounds reasonable."

"Then get a move on, Princess. I ain't missin' Christmas."

A.N: Their relationship is complicated :) .

Nettie: The Star reference was the "Did I just kill that guy?" exchange. And I'm not really a fan of Starco… it stands in the way of Star getting together with her true soul mate, Janna :).

Metalheadrailfan: Yep, looks like Helga and Rhonda aren't the only mutants in PS 118. I hope someone stored that thing somewhere safe.

Ajay: Correct!

Acosta: Thanks for the kind words!