"Sometimes I wish I was back in the city again," grumbled Yamcha, feeling cross as Krillin looked at him with smug satisfaction. "Seriously, man. You'd feel the same as I do if you had to quit making money hand over fist."
Krillin rolled his eyes. "Sure, like you ever cared that much about baseball."
"Yah," agreed Yamcha, holding one of his hands in his palm. "But it's easy money. Come on, Krillin. Think of the lifestyle? The fame?" He threw his trump card out after his other suggestions got nowhere. "The girls?"
The goofy grin on Yamcha's face made Krillin chuckle. "Can you even talk to girls now?"
Yamcha had long since gotten over his fear of women. Technically, he was going out with Bulma but he couldn't even tell half the time whether the relationship was going swimmingly or was on the rocks. Still, he was loyal when he wasn't sure and he wasn't right now. Didn't meant he couldn't admire though. To Bulma's chagrin.
Still, the two laughed at their wisecracks. The sun was shining and the weather was perfect. Fun in the sun indeed. A great time no man could ruin. Unless somebody tried.
A thin beam crashed into Yamcha's ankle, catching them both by surprise. Piercing through the joint, the former bandit's leg buckled and he fell to his knees.
For a moment, the warrior's mind raced trying to figure out what the hell just happened. He couldn't see anything or anybody. Nothing to explain what had just happened. 'Come now, Yamcha,' chastised the man, 'Get yourself together.' Coming to his senses, the warrior found Krillin at his side offering him his hand. Yamcha pulled himself up.
"You alright?" asked Krillin.
"Fine," confirmed Yamcha, wincing from the pain. "It hurts really bad but it isn't like getting your leg broken by Tien."
Nodding in recognition of his friend's report, Krillin circled behind the man to stand guard over his rear. On second thought, Yamcha really didn't like how that thought sounded. Regardless the two stood back to back, feet planted firmly into the tile on the lookout for danger. They weren't going to be caught off guard again.
"Can you see anything?" questioned the former bandit, moving his back and forth but only seeing thin clouds and blue sky.
"Nope," denied Krillin, encountering the same problem. Seconds afterwards, Yamcha felt Krillin relax. It was mistake and the man had to wonder if his friend would pay for it.
The answer to his question came promptly. Sensing the mistake, another small ki beam came crashing into the forehead of the warrior. Blowing up point-blank, the attack knocked his off his feet.
Yamcha felt his body fall out from under him as his friend was sent tumbling into the back of his calves. Thankfully, the baldy's body cushioned his fall. Rolling off the other fighter, the former bandit picked himself back up, scratching his head in embarassment. "Ugh, you good Krillin?"
Hobbling back up himself, Krillin nodded as he rubbed the back of his head gingerly. "Yah, I'm not badly hurt. But what does Kami put in that floor?"
Taking their positions again, the two waited for another attack to happen. It did but this time no mistakes were made. Krillin saw it and deflected it. Wincing like a boy who just got hit by a baseball, but satisfied that he got the walk, he gave his friend a thumbs up. "Got one of those things."
"Don't know why this guy is firing these little pot shots at us," grumbled Yamcha, mildly upset that he didn't beat Krillin to the punch. "It's not like they are going to do anything to us even if they hit."
Agreeing with the bandit, but not expressing it, the monk returned to his guard duties. As time went on, the two started picking out every attack that came their way. It was hard work, and the attacks didn't have any pattern, but it was very good practice for their reflexes.
They expected for their enemy to eventually tire of this song and dance and come out and meet them. To their chagrin, that just didn't happen. Eventually, the ne'er-do-well stopped attacking. Didn't get closer. Didn't confront them. Just moved out like a bad storm.
Utterly bewildered when minutes went on and nothing was heard or seen, Yamcha expressed his frustration. "Man, do you think he's gone? Without even trying to fight? What a coward!"
"Most likely," figured Krillin, raising his brow and shrugging his shoulder. Unlike his friend, he wasn't going to complain about getting embroiled in another battle. If the other guy wanted to scurry, he certainly wasn't going to go tearing off looking for a fight. "Still, he almost had us. If those attacks were stronger, we might not have even had a chance to fight back."
Yamcha grumbled. "I suppose your right. Do you think we should train harder?"
"Definitely," replied Krillin, shaking his head. "We need to be prepared for if something like that happens again. We don't know why somebody decided to attack us out of the blue, but we need to be more prepared.
With that, both fighters nodded to each other and returned to their quarters. Meanwhile, far off in the sky a radiant smile could be seen on their attacker. His friends had taken the bait. Tien was very glad.
Goku had the temper of a saint. Which was good because he had the patience of a child. You could imagine how he felt about more aimless wandering after weeks of doing it. Bardock didn't help of course, but his snide comments were sometimes entertaining. When they weren't directed at him of course.
Suddenly, the two warriors stopped. Or more like Bardock stopped and Goku followed subserviently. Surveying the scenery, which was more of the same, Bardock exclaimed. "Aw, perfect. Let's take a break!"
His voice sounded peppy. Bardock's voice should not sound peppy. That was how Goku saw it anyway. Which meant that something bad was going to happen. But he didn't have much choice but to play along. Couldn't be much worse than that blankness again.
"This is far enough," commented the older Saiyan, this time directly speaking to his son. Alarm bells started to ring. "Before we go any farther, I think it's a good time to tell you a little about my boss!" If there was an evil smile in the universe, Bardock was flashing it at full power.
"Can't be any worse than you Saiyans," bit back Goku. Nobody could be much worse than a bunch of intergalactic slavers in the opinion of our dear hero. The Saiyans were scum and he hadn't run into a single case where they were anything but proud of it.
Bardock was no exception. Instead of looking glum or meek about the atrocities he had caused, he laughed like a hyena. "Like I care what some weakling thinks about my past deeds. But hey, if you want to piss away your only chance of getting out of here, don't let me stop you."
"Pardon me," countered Goku, getting a hold of himself and looking calm and composed now. "Something tells me that you don't have the power to get me out."
"Of course not," denied Bardock, taking pleasure in at least some banter. He really disliked people with no spine. Pathetic puppies the spineless were. He didn't like too much spine either – reminded him of the assholes back on Vegeta. Too much spine though was better than too little in his estimates though. That went double for his offspring, if for nothing but face saving's sake. "Luckily for you, I'm not in charge. If I had my way, nobody would escape this place. Watching people slowly lose their minds brings great joy to me."
The macabre mind of Bardock was no surprise to Goku at this point. He ignored it. "So I assume this boss of yours is the one then?"
In response, Bardock pointed at him and chuckled. "Hey, you're learning. About time you had a thought worth a brain cell. But hey, I'll settle."
Used to dealing with enemies taunting him, but finding the entire act tiresome to the core now, our hero changed the topic. "Are you going to tell me anything?"
"As a matter of fact, yes," responded Bardock, chuckling as his son gave him a look of surprise. "Don't get me wrong, it's not for your benefit. You don't stand a chance against him. He's going to fleece you like a sheep and it will be great fun. But I don't mind giving you a leg up. It will make watching you struggle that much longer all the more enjoyable."
Asshole or not, Goku recognized the offer of help when he heard it. "So what's the name of this boss? What does he want?"
"Nobody knows the name of the boss. At least his true name," answered Bardock, shrugging his shoulders apathetically. "He called this place the foundry and so I called him the Foundrist. Easy name to remember."
Goku didn't know what a 'foundry' was so that tidbit meant nothing to him. But it was very clear to the Saiyan that this guy was very secretive if nobody even knew his name. It was weird. Most villains he met tended to be very vocal about their reputations.
"The second thing you should know about him is that he is bad news," continued Bardock, unable to stop smirking ear to ear as he talked. "If you think I'm nasty, I can't wait until he gets a hold of you. He'll swallow you up and spit out your bones if you give him even an inch. It's what he does."
"So how do I fight him?" replied Goku, uninterested in how wicked the guy was. He wanted out of this place. If that meant fighting him, so be it.
Bardock just laughed at him again. "You don't fight him. Unlike the rest of us, he isn't a prisoner of hell. He is the warden, appointed by the Kai's themselves to oversee this land. Nobody gets out unless he wills it. So you'll have to convince him that you're worthy. Good luck!"
That was another abnormality that didn't add up. Bad guys in Goku's estimate weren't legitimate officials. They were well...ne'er-do-wells. Lawless thugs that took advantage of people. That somebody could do such things with holy sanction was nearly unthinkable to him. Of course, when it came to the evil of the sapient condition, our hero was such a sweet summer child.
"It's so cute," remarked Bardock, with an edge of bitter mockery. "You are so gullible that you think assholes never win. Nevertheless, if you find me cruel, you don't even want to think about him. Don't ask me why he is the way he is either. I don't know and don't want too. That's a question for him; although if you like being sane, I recommend you keep your thoughts to yourself."
Goku, no matter how many times he was insulted, kicked or brushed off, was still more curious than the cat. "And why shouldn't I ask?"
Bardock just rolled his eyes. "Because you'll be playing his game. He wants you hot and bothered. And my prodding is just the warm up. I'm just trying to get you flustered for my own amusement – he'll be trying to violate your mind like a virgin on her wedding night. By the way, you're failing the test hard."
Goku didn't know what 'violate your mind' meant, but he assumed nothing good. "So what am I supposed to do?"
Shrugging his shoulders, Bardock snorted. "Wait. Right here. That's pretty much it. I've told you all I needed to tell you to satisfy him. And that's all I intend to give you. Now it's up to him to come to you."
"How will I know when he has come?" asked Goku, not liking this at all. This place felt odd to him. He was too busy dealing with Bardock's attitude to notice it beforehand. But now he felt how unnerving this place was.
"Believe me," exclaimed Bardock with a small smirk etched onto his face. "You'll know it when he comes for you. And you'll wish he hadn't. At first."
Bardock stopped talking after that. Went completely silent. Goku knew he would get nothing else out of the stoic Saiyan. So the atmosphere went silent. Dead silent. The nervous energy around him intensified. He had to refocus. Get away.
Closing his eyes, the man began to try to center his mind. Start meditating and maybe you'll calm down. It worked. For at least some time. The man was so deep in the zen that he didn't notice the warden come until it was too late.
And by the time he did, the game had already begun.
"Chiaotzu, I'm telling you, it was far out," boasted Yamcha, talking with the psychic while Krillin stood next to the two. Tien had gone off on his own for a bit. He didn't tell his friend anything else. Whatever it was, Chiaotzu couldn't say he knew. If that bit him in the ass, he'd leave that to the biographers. He had other things he needed to attend to. Apparently, gossiping with Krillin and Yamcha counted.
"Yah, those little blasts came out of nowhere," noted Krillin, joining the conversation. "They caught us with our pants down. It was alarming. If the Saiyans caught us like that, we'd be dead."
"But they barely even hurt!" dismissed Yamcha, flipping his palm to express his nonchalance. "Sure, they were fast. That doesn't mean anything unless they have umph behind them.' He pounded his fist against his chest to exaggerate his point.
"What if they do next time? We don't even know why whoever did that...did that," pointed out Krillin, wary of letting some incompetent enemy wait in their midst. But he wasn't about to chase after him just yet. But he wasn't as confident in that conviction as he had been earlier.
Yamcha looked far more confident. "Shucks, they probably got scared when they realized they couldn't do anything to us. In any case, the Saiyans are the far more important thing to deal with. Dealing with some fodder isn't how we should be spending our time."
Krillin could see Yamcha's point. He didn't want to agree with it. So he asked Chiaotzu. "So what do you think, Chiaotzu?"
Chiaotzu didn't know what to tell them. He could tell them everything if he wanted, because it was Tien who did that to them. And Tien told him why. According to him, he was testing their reflexes. Getting them used to acting without even needing to think about what they were doing.
A bead of sweet ran down the back of the psychic's head as he tried to come with some placating response of some sort. He couldn't even form a coherent thought as he sputtered and stuttered. As his mouth dug his own grave, the pale fighter practically felt the pressure of his friends rise on him like a foul stench. Of course, that part was all in his mind.
Thankfully for Chiaotzu, Krillin and Yamcha's attention had been redirected to the shrine at the center of the lookout. Out came the elderly guardian of the sanctuary, the venerable Kami. The Namek stood as tall and stern as his feeble body allowed, his eyes moving from one disciple to another. The fact that Kami stared at him longer than the others wasn't lost on Chiaotzu.
After sharing looks, the guardian gracefully strolled to his disciples. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence to see the alien stand on guard, watching over the Earth with the patience of a merciful clockmaker. But he didn't make himself the center of attention. He didn't announce himself with purpose. With clarity.
The three fighters didn't even need to think about straightening themselves out when the deity reached them. Clearly amused by their respect, the old man smiled and gave them a look that told them in no uncertain terms that formalities wouldn't be necessary.
Krillin was the first to revert back. "Hey, Kami. What can we do for you?"
The Namek said nothing immediately, closing his eyes. The Namek looked calm and serene, and Chiaotzu didn't know if his friends bought it, but he didn't. Not when he knew that Tien was the man responsible for the attack.
In a flash, that hint of tension disappeared as Kami opened his eyes. "Not right now, Krilin. I heard you got attacked today."
Although Kami's attention was focused on Krillin and Yamcha as the two told the guardian everything they knew. Chiaotzu felt uncomfortable listening – the eye of Kami watching his every movement. That was at least what the psychic was feeling.
In another way though, Chiaotzu felt relieved. All along he intended to tell Kami. He needed the man's wisdom more than anything. No matter how treacherous the waters got, Kami always knew the best way to cross.
"Well, it seems that you two had an eventful day," remarked Kami, his tone conversational. Chiaotzu didn't know how the old man didn't give away anything. Apart of him expected the Namek to tell the others what Tien did. But he wasn't telling them. Chiaotzu didn't know why. Just because he was sworn to silence didn't mean Kami was.
"Does Kami agree with Tien?' pondered Chiaotzu, assuming that if Kami wasn't telling the others what was happening, then he must agree with Tien. He started to feel the pressure dig into his skin, again. God, he was confused.
"Yah, we certainly did," acknowledged Krillin, scratching the back of his head as he lowered his face in embarrassment. "It's just I'm a little worried about what happened. What if he comes back?"
Kami nodded his head. "Understandable. The sneak attack is worrisome. But something tells me that we shouldn't make choices too rashly right now. Enemies are not always what they seem."
Chiaotzu felt like somebody was trying to drill through his skull. Kami was calling Tien an enemy but at the same time was covering for him? Sense was being violated like the girls in Master Roshi's work-out videos.
Krillin and Yamcha nodded their heads. It wasn't the first time they had misjudged an enemy. "I suppose you're right," admitted Krillin, appearing downbeat as he put his hand on his chin. "But not everybody is like Tien. Some people don't change."
Irony aside, the mention of Tien almost gave the psychic a heart attack. If Kami felt the same way, he had one heck of a poker face. It was only a matter of time before somebody connected the dots.
"I think you don't give people enough credit," replied Kami, unflinchingly maintaining his facade. "Anybody can change their ways."
"Perhaps," acknowledged Yamcha, shrugging his shoulders. "But I wouldn't bet on it. Tien was a special case, despite breaking my leg. Let me just say this: if Piccolo becomes a good guy, I'll never date another woman again. Forever."
Chiaotzu wouldn't have been sure how to respond to something like that in Kami's place. Neither did Kami himself apparently. Thankfully, Krillin had a Ph.D in responding to embarrassing dialogue. "So, in other words, you are betting nothing?"
"I'd like to see you try. At least I've had a girlfriend!" fired back Yamcha, before the two disappeared arguing about who had gotten laid the least. Kami and Chiaotzu never heard how it ended. Neither wanted to either.
Now it was just them. Mano e mano. Chiaotzu didn't know how to begin. He was never good at talking, but that's what happens when you let your friend do the talking usually. Kami meanwhile seemed perfectly at ease amongst the awkward silence. At ease or not though, he was the one to break it.
"How are you, Chiaotzu?" offered the Namek, giving the psychic an avenue of conversation to help develop.
'Is this a test?' wondered Chiaotzu. Normally he wasn't the suspicious sort, but he couldn't help but feel that Kami was fishing for something. There was no way to explain why else he would sound so...neutral about Tien. If he said yes, did that mean he was good with Tien's decision? If he said no, did that mean he wasn't?
In the end, he chose to try to give the best half-assed answer he could. "Fine, I guess."
He sounded so half-hearted even he knew he was bullshitting. Even Goku could've figured it out, let alone Kami. Flinching when he saw the Namekian's brow raise, the psychic waited for his response to get demolished.
"You don't sound so sure. Is there something on your mind?"
About what Chiaotzu expected him to say. This time, he knew that it was best to come out with it. "I assume you know who was responsible for attacking Krillin and Yamcha."
Nodding his head, Kami leaned down harder on his cane. The facade was gone. Replaced by an exhausted look born of impotence and frustration. No longer was he a bastion of quiet strength that they fed off. "Yes, I'm aware of Tien's involvement in the attack. I fear something has befallen our friend. He's been acting very unusual lately."
There was a part of Chiaotzu that was relieved to hear Kami say that. Apart of the psyche of the psychic questioned whether it was him that was in the wrong to be wary of Tien's change of heart. Kami dispelled that with a simple statement. Emotional legitimacy came at a cost though. If Kami didn't trick them to galvanize Tien, why did he trick them at all?
Best to just not mince words. "Why did you trick us?"
Namekians couldn't pale whiter than a ghost, but it was interesting to see Kami give it his best shot. A cold sweat broke out over Chiaotzu's back as he saw the guardian's doubtful expression. It was almost a given that no matter how bad things got, Kami always had an answer. No matter how pitch dark it got, he and Goku always had a light. Chiaotzu didn't see that light.
Nevertheless, the look of doubt was fleeting. Reverting back to a warm if a bit stiff smile, Kami responded. "I see. I assume you are talking about the pendulum room?"
Chiaotzu nodded his head. "Tien thinks you were trying to show him a sign."
Kami cocked his head to the side. "And what sign did I give him?"
Scratching the side of his chin as he tried to come up with what Tien told him, Chiaotzu mumbled a few responses before finding the one he wanted. "The Saiyans are too strong for us to beat on our own. That to fight a fair fight means to watch everything we've ever known die. That to survive, we will need to discard the honor of our new life for the ruthlessness of our old."
After spitting out every sickening word, Chiaotzu ceased and waited for Kami to respond. At this point, he just wanted things to be back to normal. He loved his friend, but he wasn't ready to defend him against Kami's disapproval.
As for the Namekian, a frown graced his lips. "I see how this happened. Sadly, I had a not-small part to play in this problem. It wasn't my intention, quite the opposite. I owe you and Tien an explanation for why I deceived you, but I need some time to think before then. Until dusk most likely."
"Anytime is a good time. Take what time you need," replied Chiaotzu graciously, trying his best to be respectful. That being said, he had rather cleared things up right then and now. Maybe if Tien heard what Kami had to say, things would go back to normal again. Chiaotzu hoped so anyway.
"Dusk, then?" offered Kami."
"Dusk," repeated Chiaotzu. Looking at the sun it was just past mid-day. The sun had fallen just a tad from its highest perch. From there, it could only go down.
The psychic hoped it wasn't an ill-omen.
The night was dark and gloomy. Rain had turned roads into rivers and roofs into refuges. Low ground didn't exist any longer – the tides having taken it all away. Perils were around every corner; only the stupid and brave would dare venture out into it. Our hero was balls deep in it. Literally.
Soaked to the bone, the boy crossed out of another filthy marsh. The floodwaters were rising, turning even the most shallow depressions into cesspits. Hands wrinkly with water and numb with cold, the boy tried to blow hot air on them as he trudged onwards.
It wasn't the first time he had been in this position. But this time he had a reason to continue onward. Perhaps he was still running, but this time it was into the hurricane and not out of it. Purpose, no matter how modest, felt invigorating.
'Got to continue on. They are counting on you,' mumbled Gohan to himself, steeling himself every time he showed even the slightest weakness.
Pigero had only told him one thing about this place. Keep heading south. Nothing more specific. 'You will know it when you see it.' That is what he said. That was what Gohan trusted to be true. Despite that, Gohan had been traveling for hours and had seen nothing.
'Where is this place?' pondered the boy, getting distracted as his mind drifted a little bit. He had hit a dead end as the muddy road he had been trekking terminated on the side of a steep ravine. At the bottom was a line of rocks and a small river that had engorged itself on floodwater. One nasty slip scaling down that face and he'd fall straight down.
Pigero had said nothing about this. And he should've of. It was pretty obvious that trying to take the canyon head on would be unwise. 'But he told me to keep heading south!' rebuked the boy in his head. He would trust the older boy.
It didn't end well. The minute he put any force down on the downward slope, his foot sunk and he ended up tumbling straight down the gully.
Landing on a jagged stone, the boy cried out as his hands went out protectively over his shoulder. 'Ah, I think I broke it,' whined the boy, despite the fact that in truth he only sprained it. Gohan, no matter how much his mother wanted him to be one, was no orthopedist.
Semantics aside, it took the boy a solid two minutes before he even thought about moving. The focus that had propelled him to that point had dissipated. Exhaustion had seeped into his bones and ennui clouded his thoughts. But these roadblocks weren't special in comparison to the physical barriers in his way.
Floodwater had seemed threatening when he was on high ground. At the base of the gully all he saw was roaring rapids, spraying foam and promising death to any foolish enough to enter her defenses. Bum arm and all, relying on the stream to carry him forward would just be a fancy way of committing suicide.
The boy craned his head up to the path he had accidentally forsaken. It was at least one-hundred feet up. Too steep to climb. That wasn't even mentioning the mud that was threatening to slide at anytime. 'What would I give to fly like a birdie, right about now,' grumbled the boy, knowing that he wasn't getting out of this ravine anytime soon.
So that left him with one option. Wait for help. Again. 'How do I always end up like this?' mused the boy, sullen at where the day had taken him.
Hours past on his rocky refuge. Or rocky prison in Gohan's mind. Daylight had broken out over the early morning dark, illuminating his peril for all to see. If any came, which the boy began to dread was going to be the case.
To the boys dismay, the waters continued to rise. About a foot an hour. If help didn't come within about two or three hours, the boy would be learning to swim whether he liked it or not. Fortunately for the boy, that prediction may not have been accurate.
An engine blared in the distance. Too far away for puny human ears to hear, but certainly not for Gohan. Hope swelled in him like the tides around him. Perhaps he might get out of this scot-free. Just another lesson that mother-nature was bitchy enough to give him the hard way.
The sound only got louder over time. Hope morphed into jubilation as the engine came into view. It was a boat and it was going fast. Water blew out of spouts on the back as it just glided on top of the whitewater. As the vessel got closer, Gohan was greeted by the ship turning quickly to the left, sending a blast of water into the boy's face as the boat slid to a stop at the edge of the rock.
Shielding his face from the spray, the boy slowly reopened his guard. At the back of the boat stood a man by the engine. He was an old man but not elderly. Late fifties-early sixties if Gohan knew any better. Attire wise, he wore warm wool clothing with a small cap over his head.
"Blarney," grumbled the man, face scrunched up in astonishment. "How did a whippersnapper like you end up down here?"
"Mister," pleaded the boy, pointing up to the top of the cliff. "I fell down and couldn't get back up."
The man looked at the boy and then the cliffs all around them. The shocked expression he had been sporting only got wider. "Why, I reckon that's a' hundred foot drop!" His eyes narrowed somewhat. "How'd a boy like you survive some'tin like that?"
Now that he thought about it, Gohan had to wonder why too. Chi Chi had a downright feverish dislike towards television. He didn't bother to think about the why. Made boys like him into delinquents most likely. Which was a shame because he loved the tele when he could watch. Cartoons could be so much fun!
Tangents aside, the boy really didn't know how to respond. Thankfully for him, it didn't really matter. "Aw shucks boy, get in," insisted the old man, offering the demi-Saiyan a seat.
Knowing that generosity deserved graciousness, the boy bowed. "Thank you, mister," replied the boy before boarding the boat.
Cargo onboard, the middle aged man turned on the motor of the boat and set off deeper on the treacherous artery going farther into the heart of the wilderness. Gohan looked out from the center of the boat as the floodwaters did their best to make the journey as uncomfortable as possible.
Apart of Gohan felt nervous. He trusted the old man, but he had no idea where he was being led to. Could he even find his way back to his friends? Pigero didn't prepare him to go back. 'Now that I think about it,' wondered Gohan, pondering his predicament. 'Pigero really didn't tell me anything about this place.'
He needed to resolve his confusion. Now. "Mister, do you know where we are going?"
The soon-to-be elder looked at the boy and shrugged. "The shelter, I guess," answered the man.
"What's that?" asked the boy.
The old guy gave the boy a dirty look, clearly annoyed that he had to keep answering things. His mother had always told him it was better to be seen rather than heard. He felt sorry for the old man, but bigger things were on the horizons than his annoyance.
"Eh, a place," muttered the old man. "Mayba, the otha's will know what to do to yah."
"Others?"
"Eh, voluntah's. People have coming intah our village to help out. Gave me ah home anywahs aftah losing my own in the storm," answered the man.
The waters had settled the closer they had gone inland. "They ah very nice people," continued the man. "Helpin' us when we wah down. Bringin' supplies and stuff. It's tha best wah got."
Gohan had to recoil from that. "Mister, is there a hospital here?"
The man looked at the boy like he had grown two heads. "Aw city-slicker, there nevah been ah hospital here," answered the man ironically. Gohan had never even seen a city before.
But the boy got a lot more from the exchange than the old man knew. 'No hospital,' wondered the boy, eyes dilating in shock. 'Then where was Pigero leading me?'
Betrayal or not, Gohan had seen the condition of those kids. Lies or not, they needed help. That was beyond dispute. But without a hospital, where was he going to get medicine? Until he remembered what the old man said. The old man was taking him to where to find the stuff to help his friends.
A shudder went down the boy's spine as he knew he was about to spit on the old man's generosity, but he had no choice. But as they rounded the corner, they saw a settlement coming. No doubt it was the shelter. A couple of adults stood on the bank.
But only one of the two mattered to the boy. She was the right age, the right size and the right appearance. There was only person who it could be. A shiver ran down his spine as the comforting dream he had treasured while in the wasteland came to fruition right in front of him. And his mind could only form one thought.
'Mom!'
