A/N Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! Also thank you to RainCloud, who left a really nice review! (It was a signed anonymous one so I couldn't reply directly, so I'll just say thank you here! You're awesome!)
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, Squee, JTHM or any related franchises. And, for the last time, I do not own a yo-yo. Seriously! I didn't take it, okay? You have to move past this already.
Chapter Six: The Complication
agent_mothman: …gaz?
agent_mothman: i know you're still mad at me but i need your help
agent_mothman: something bad has happened to zim.
agent_mothman: i might not be home for a while. i need to investigate this.
agent_mothman: tell dad we're working on the project or something, k?
agent_mothman: thx
agent_mothman: and... i really am sorry.
agent_mothman: for everything.
XXX
Through the reflection in the bus window, I could see the man in the aisle across from me had an open sore on his face. He scratched at it, the crusted blood sprinkling the hair of his beard. Somewhere a baby screamed and someone coughed a wet, hacking cough. Flies buzzed around an old man with a milky glass eye, who had been staring up at the roof of the bus since I got on.
Disgusting.
I shivered, drawing my jacket closer. For the first time, I could understand why Zim was so repulsed by humans. We were gross. I kept my arms close, afraid an accidental brush of my skin against the bus seat would infect me with all of the disgusting, human filth that surrounded me.
But what was the point? I was that filth.
I was the most disgusting person there.
Everything felt numb, like the past five hours had been some sort of weird dream. I could recall some of it clearly, but the rest of it was a tangle of confused thoughts and images.
Immediately after the phone call, I had run to my computer. I hadn't checked them in months, but I still had working cameras in Zim's house. I can only recall how I drummed the desk with my fingers, my entire body itching with anticipation as the video feeds loaded.
They all showed static.
The entire world fell away- there was no way that all of those cameras had failed at once! That would take an almost cosmic amount of luck and there was only one being in this world who could be so supernaturally lucky.
The homicidal maniac.
The neighborhood was silent except for the pounding of my footsteps on the pavement as I ran through well-lit streets. As I ran, I began to wonder if I was being stupid. Maybe the cameras had some kind of ill-timed factory defect? Maybe the static on the phone call had just been a glitch? I expected to run up to the house and pound on the door- over and over and over- until an annoyed Zim tugged me inside and demanded to know why the hell I was bothering him at four in the morning. After I babbled out a nonsensical excuse, he would toss me out and I would trudge home, embarrassed and relieved. But when I came to a stumbling stop in front of the familiar green and purple house, my stomach dropped.
The nightmare was real.
I remember walking up to Zim's house, past the rows of limp gnomes and stepping over the remains of the robot parents- the father's jaw wobbling uselessly up and down while the mother still reached for my leg. I remember the stab of sadness I felt as something crunched under my feet and I realized it was Minimoose, scattered in pieces across the floor. I remember the nausea that rose in my stomach when I found the path to his kitchen- his neat, pristine kitchen- splattered with a clearish-pink liquid.
I can recall the dread in my stomach as I walked into the kitchen, wondering how I would find him. And what would I do if I did? Call the police? Bury him in the backyard?
Contact his leaders?
I remember a shot of relief at not finding him there, just before the true meaning of that had set in. It was both good news and bad news for Zim. The good news was that, since I knew the attacker was the maniac, I also knew that Zim was probably still alive. The maniac, if his previous excursions were any indication, usually killed his victims on the spot or brought them back to his "torture cellar" for his amusement- not both.
The bad news was that, according to stories from the escaped victims, this would most likely end in a new clearish-pink coat for his wall.
As the reality of the situation settled in, so did the guilt. This couldn't be a coincidence. Why else would the manic go to another town and break into a highly protected alien base to claim a victim when there were many easier ones just walking around? He took Zim because the monster had seen him with me.
He took Zim because he knew it would hurt me.
"Diiiib?" A tug on my jacket jolted me back to reality. I glanced down at the little green dog. "We gonna stop and get brain freezies?"
I didn't realize that he actually knew my name. "We don't have time for that. Zim is in trouble, okay? If we don't get to the bottom of this whole thing soon, he's going to die. You understand that, don't you?"
GIR stared at me and I imagined the frightened look in glowing eyes, somewhere beneath the costume.
"Forget it." I muttered. "It's going to be fine, alright? Everything will be fine."
"So… brain freezy?"
I cringed. Why had I bothered to fix him in the first place? I really can't tell you. I know it's just a machine but it laughed and cried and shrieked and the idea that it wasn't doing any of that anymore… that was just something I couldn't handle. Not on top of everything else. As I worked, trying to navigate machinery that was far too complex for me, I couldn't shake the weird feeling that if I could fix GIR that maybe there was a chance I could fix all of this. I don't know why I thought that. I guess I needed to believe in something.
"If we live through this," I leaned back against the seat, letting my head rest against the cool leather. "I promise you that we'll get brain freezies."
Listening to the coughing and the buzzing of flies and ringing of phones, I closed my eyes. But I didn't fall asleep. How could anyone fall asleep with so much noise? I wanted to scream at them to shut up, I wanted to scream at them until everything became silent.
But instead, I just fiddled with the goggles I had picked up from the kitchen floor, the goggles Zim had me try on last night in the lab. Why had I said all of that horrible stuff to him? What was wrong with me?
I felt sick.
The bus pulled up to an empty bus stop in front of a patch of woods. It was raining a little and I considered waiting under the glass roof until it stopped, but there was a man asleep on the bench. I didn't want to be around him. I didn't want to be around anyone. So I just started walking.
"You brought your guidance chip right?" I asked, as GIR trotted along beside me. He nodded. "Good. Take us to 775 Oak Street."
As we walked, I regretted not wearing my hoodie- it would have kept me warm and dry- but I had chosen my old trenchcoat instead, with a faded blue shirt that had an apathetic smiley face on it. I don't even know where I got that thing, but I wore it almost every day back in sixth grade. Zim was the only who noticed when I stopped. Much like dogs and cats, change freaked him out. He spent days demanding what I meant by "changing my uniform" and screaming that my plan was never going to work. Even now, I found myself smiling at the memory.
Anyway, I don't know why I had to wear it. It just felt right, I guess.
As we walked, GIR got sidetracked a couple times- first by a puddle, then by a squirrel- and I began to wonder how Zim got him to do anything. It was a miracle that GIR didn't screw up his plans more often than he already did. Why bother keeping a robot that was so broken? His master was mortal danger and yet he was lying on the ground, poking at a snail that was inching across the sidewalk.
"Maybe we could hurry it up a little?" I suggested. The flatness of my voice didn't even surprise me anymore. "Zim's in trouble, you know. Aren't you even a little concerned?"
"Nooo." GIR rolled over, watching the snail upside down.
Sadness pricked me, like the point of tiny needle. Stupid me for thinking the robot Zim pampered actually cared about him, right? But I decided to shrug it off. Chances are, he probably didn't even understand the question.
But I still yanked the leash a little harder than I should have. He toppled off the curb and crashed into the street.
"Let's go." I snarled.
After that, he led the way without any problems and we finally arrived at a house that seemed to be falling apart. The roof slanted, like it was about to collapse and the windows were half boarded with long planks of wood arranged in demented criss-cross patterns. I stared at it and the overgrown lawn for a long time.
"This is 775?" I asked, in disbelief. "Does anyone even live here?"
GIR smacked the side of his head a couple times and then pointed at another house, right next door. It was a normal, two story house with soft white walls and a dark, shingled roof.
775 Oak Street was written above the garage in a neat script, like it had been painted on with a brush.
My heart leapt into my throat. My gaze shot back to the ruined house with the overgrown lawn. In the crooked remains of the mailbox, I could see peeling numbers that read 777. That was the maniac's house. It had to be.
And that meant Zim was close.
It took every ounce of self control I had not to go running up to the house. If I was going to succeed, I needed a plan. I couldn't just barge in without any information the way I used to sneak into Zim's house when I was kid. Back then, when I was caught, I knew the worst thing that would happen was that Zim would toss me back out or maybe have his gnomes zap me once or twice. This time, I could get impaled with knife through my eye like that lady they found at the coffee shop. I needed to see Squee first and make a plan.
"I'm coming for you." I whispered. "I promise."
The house stood silent under the cloudy sky. I forced myself to turn away from it and began the long walk up to Squee's house. There were lights that led the way up the path which glowed a soft white like they would keep anything on the other side of the lawn at bay. I hoped that was true.
I stood for a few moments on the porch to collect myself before I knocked on the door. It opened and a woman stood there, blinking at me like the sun was shining directly in her eyes, even though it was cloudy.
"Hi." I said, realizing I didn't prepare anything to say. So I stuck out my hand for her to shake. She just stared at it, so I put it back down again. "My name is Dib. I'm a paranormal investigator."
"Are you here to ask about the aliens?" she whispered.
"No, actually. Umm, you've seen aliens though? How would you describe- Wait, nevermind. I've really got to stay on task here. Is your son home?"
There was a long pause as she scrunched her eyes in thought. Her skin was sickly pale and pocked with purplish pimples and her eyes were a faded blue.
"I don't have a son." she said, after a while.
"You don't?" Could Squee have gotten the address wrong? It wasn't likely. "Isn't there a little kid who lives here?"
"No, sorry."
"Who are you talking to?" A man suddenly appeared behind her. "You know you're not supposed to answer the door." Then he glared at me. "What do you want?"
I decided to cut to the point this time. "I'm looking for a little kid."
"Are you the homicidal maniac?"
"Umm... no?"
"Damn. Guess I'll keep praying then. Anyway, he's on second floor- first room on the right. Said he was going to bed early or something."
He steered the woman away from the door as I entered, with GIR trotting along after me.
"What a nice boy." the woman's voice floated down the hallway as they departed. "I wish we could have a son someday."
I stood for a while in the hallway, expecting them to march back and question me. They never came.
That familiar, boiling anger I felt back in the alley rose inside me again. Dad would never let a stranger just walk into the house like that. Even Gaz, in her best moments of apathetic glory, would have slammed the door shut. I wanted to scream at them to come back, but I bit the urge down. I couldn't risk getting kicked out; Zim was counting on me.
So I focused my attention to the stairs and began climbing. It amazed me how bare the walls were. No framed holiday pictures or vacation photos- just a long, empty wall. That depressed me and I forced myself to look forward instead. Eventually, the stairs gave way to a long, equally bare hallway. If I didn't have instructions, I wouldn't have guessed which room to check at all. It was as plain as everything else.
"Watchu waiting for?" GIR asked, as I stood in front of the door.
My hand was raised into a fist as I prepared to knock. I lowered it for a moment. "I… I don't know. Maybe this is a mistake. I don't want to involve him anymore than I already have, y'know? He's just a kid."
"Master says you're a kid and you do lots of stuff!"
I scowled. "I'm not a kid. But yeah, I guess I do a lot of things I shouldn't do. This is different, I guess. This monster- the residue or whatever Zim said it was- is really dangerous. I just… I don't know that I'm doing the right thing."
Suddenly, I found myself wishing that Nny was here again. I could almost picture him leaning up against the wall, philosophically musing about my conflict. The thought of it made me almost made me smile. If he was here, he would help me rescue Zim. And then we could stop the maniac together and finally end this stupid nightmare.
Of course, Nny wasn't here. I didn't know where he was. I just had to trust in the promise he made me, a long time ago in that café. When the time comes, I'll find you. I always do.
Until then, I was on my own.
"What do you think, GIR? What should I do?"
The robot stared at the floor for a long time and I watched him in anticipation. Then, very slowly, he lifted his head and looked me right in the eyes.
"Wut?" he said.
A small migraine started building up in my head. I rubbed the bridge of my nose to soothe it. Why had I expected anything else? "Yeah, okay. I'm just going to knock now." And so I did. "Squee?" I called. "Are you there?"
No response.
"Squee! It's me, Dib!"
Still no response.
Maybe he was sleeping. I turned the knob and tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge.
My heart began to beat. Why was this happening? I threw all of my weight against it. I kicked it. I backed up and ran into it. I got nothing for all of my efforts but a throbbing shoulder.
No, I thought, Please, please no... Was it possible something had gotten to him first? Panic began to well inside me.
"Squee!" I threw my weight against the door again. It budged, just slightly. There was something blocking it. "GIR, help me!"
The dog cocked his head. "We gonna dance?"
"For once in your life, be helpful! This is serious!" The panic rose again and I shoved against the door but it wasn't moving anymore. I forced myself to think. Zim somehow got the robot to do things. How? "GIR! I'm ORDERING you to help me!" The little green dog stared at me. "GIR, I-" An idea struck me. "GIR, there's a taco in that room! If you help me open the door, you can have it!"
The robot seized the hood of his costume and threw it back. His usually blue eyes had turned red.
He held up a stubby hand. "Initiating laser in three, two- IMMEDIATELY!"
I just dived out of the way and as a red laser burst through the plush hand of his costume and sliced through the hinges of the door. Then he seized the knob and tugged the whole door away, tossing it down the hall where it crashed somewhere in the distance.
His eyes flashed back to blue. "Toys!" he squeaked in delight.
Groaning, I got to my feet. Now I could see what had been blocking the door. There was a huge pile of toys and furniture there, forming a haphazard barricade. As GIR dove into the pile, I ran a hand along the back of a chair that must have been propped up under the knob. How long had Squee been working on this?
What had he been trying to keep out?
The flutter of curtains caught my eye. There was a window on the other side of the room, which was broken. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. I stumbled over the remains of the barricade and looked around. Drawers were hanging open and things were scattered across the floor. Then I noticed a familiar teddy bear, it's head still smiling me, it's body torn into various pieces that were scattered across the room.
What had happened here? My mind flashed back to this morning when I walked into Zim's house and that same feeling a dread and guilt washed over me. I should have come here earlier. I thought I had more time!
"Squee!" I tried not to scream, but I couldn't help it. "TODD! Are you here?!"
Then I heard a sound. It was soft and faint, but unmistakable squee.
I paused, trying to hear what direction it had come from. It was close, but where? Then I realized I was standing near the bed. Heart thumping in my chest, I crouched down and flattened myself along the floor.
It took my eyes a moment to adjust, but I could a small trembling figure curled up into a ball. His eyes watched me, wide with terror. He clutched something in his hands. I realized it was knife, like the kind you might use to slice a ham at dinner.
"Hey." I tried to soften my voice but instead it just shook. Taking a deep breath, I tried again. "Are you okay?"
His eyes flickered to me. His tiny chest heaved with panicked breaths and he whimpered.
"Todd? It's me, Dib. Remember? Nothing is going hurt you while I'm here, okay?" I started to inch towards him. "You're safe now."
"Here!" He choked out.
"Huh?"
"H-Here! They're still here!"
Before I could react, something struck me across the back of the head. As my vision exploded into a thousand pieces, I felt myself being tugged backwards and shoved back onto the floor. I skidded across the floor and crashed against a dresser onto the other side of the room.
"No!" I heard Squee scream. I saw him scramble out from under the bed. "Don't kill him!"
"Kill him?!" A voice cackled. "Why would we kill him? He's our ticket out of this nightmare!"
XXX
Have you ever seen the Pillsbury Doughboy?
In case you didn't know, he's the mascot for a company that makes baking mixes and the refrigerated croissant doughs. He's a little, ghostly white person with a chef's hat, an obnoxiously cheerful smile and wide blue eyes.
I always thought he was a bit a creepy looking. In the commercials, he would hang out with some family that was using his products, chatting with them in his weird high-pitched voice until someone poked his stomach and he exploded with giggling laughter. Those commercials just typified everything that was wrong with humanity, in my opinion. Nobody questioned the doughboy. They just accepted that there was a little doughman hanging out on the kitchen table like it was just a family tradition. Didn't any of them ever think to themselves "hey, that's a little weird!" before asking for the mashed potatoes?
I have now revised my opinion on those people. Because as two, ghostly white figures emerged from the darkness, I wanted to pretend like they weren't there either.
They were Doughboys, I could tell by the chef hats, but something had gone horribly wrong. It was like some insane child had taken a black marker and just doodled all over them.
"What…" I struggled to keep conscious. "What are you?"
One with the arrows ringed around his eyes grinned as he dropped the baseball bat he had been holding "Isn't that a good question? On a literal level, I would say we're styrofoam and paint, just like that bear," He pointed to Schmee's remains, "is stuffing and fabric. But you want to know what gives us life, what animates us, and isn't that a stupid question when you know the answer?"
I knew the answer, but I didn't say it. I scrambled backwards as they walked towards me, ignoring the throbbing pain on the back of my head. My back hit the dresser and it wobbled.
The one with eyes that were maddening spirals gazed at me. "I suppose you could call us side-effects. Those who are exposed to The Master for too long will find that the voices in their head are no longer theirs."
The other one grinned. "We were created by a demented man out of loneliness and The Master used that longing and gave us life. We began as mere thoughts, but now we live on our own!"
"It's dreary. Life is a constant exercise in pain."
"I'm Mr. Eff, by the way. My cheerful friend there is Psychodoughboy. And you-" They came to a stop just in front of me. "-are our ticket to freedom!"
My eyes scanned the room. I could see Squee, cowered against the side of his bed, his face pale with terror. He was safe, at least.
Mr. Eff leaned forward, blocking my view. His empty eyes were wide with excitement. "Sorry about the rough greeting. You caught us by surprise! The brat was pretty naughty last night, telling you where we lived! We didn't want to know that yet. We're still getting to know you, see? Sowing the seeds, so to speak. We can't have him go about blabbing all of our secrets!"
"There is not much my associate and I agree on." Psychodoughboy added, "But we both do not like complications. In fact, that is the very reason we have sought you out in the first place. We need your assistance with a particular complication that is starting to get on our nerves."
Sought me out? I had millions of questions, but I didn't ask any of them. Something eager in their weird, scribbled eyes told me that's exactly what they wanted. I wasn't going to take the bait so easily. "I don't know what your plans are." I forced confidence into my voice. "But I'm not helping you with anything!"
"Dib, Dib, Dibby, Dib." Mr. Eff shook his head. I didn't bother to ask how he knew my name. "You're acting like we're your enemies or something! Granted, we just bonked you with a baseball bat but that shouldn't cloud your judgment of us! It's true we need you to help us, but you forget that we also want to help you! We have a common enemy!"
A common enemy? The confusion must have shown on my face.
"I thought you were an investigator!" Psychodoughboy sneered. "We're referring to the maniac, you fool!"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You said you were part of the monster! Isn't the monster the thing controlling the manic?!"
"In theory, yes. But he's becoming difficult and The Master is growing impatient with him."
"We're growing impatient with him!" Mr. Eff exclaimed. "His angsty bullshit is really getting me down. It's in my best interest for him to remain alive, and sometimes even I want to kill him! Do you know how much self-restraint that takes?"
The pain was making it difficult for me to focus, so I squeezed my eyes shut to block out their words. Their voices slithered around me like snakes.
"He has been neglecting his duties. The Master is hungry and he doesn't even care. I cannot stand by and watch this kind of neglect. I thought he would he would kill himself, but suddenly all of that has gone to shit! He's stubbornly clinging to life now!"
"Which would be good for me, except that not feeding The Master is making us weak! I want to be free of this whole mess! But he just isn't cooperating! We need someone new…"
"Someone who has nobody to live for…"
"Or rather, someone who stubbornly persists in one single-minded pursuit…"
"… a person with inner darkness just waiting to be tapped…"
"… like a vein of oil…"
"… or an oasis of despair!"
"The point is," Mr. Eff finished and his voice actually softened."We need you, Dib."
I opened my eyes and found both of them staring at me, so pale in the darkness that had descended upon the room. Shadows clouded the window like fog. "To do what?" I asked.
He crouched down to look me in the eyes. "We need you to kill The Master's wastelock and take his place!"
I leaned forward onto my knees, pretending like I was going to pass out. In actuality, while my head still throbbed from the impact and I did feel light-headed, I wanted to get into a position where I could move. Maybe not stand, but at least crawl. When they weren't speaking, the doughboys stood still like they had never moved at all. But I knew they were watching my every movement.
I placed a hand on the floor to brace myself. "What if…" The world was spinning. Stay awake, I thought. "What if I don't want to?"
"Nobody is making you do anything that you don't want to." said Psychodoughboy. It made me sick to look into his swirling eyes, so I avoided them. "We are merely pointing out how beneficial it might be for you to cooperate with us."
"Is that a threat?"
"No. Just an observation. The maniac has something that you want, after all."
Of course, I knew what he meant. I tried not to let the interest show on my face. I kept my voice cool and emotionless. "The maniac can keep him for all I care. He'd be doing me a favor. Zim's trying to destroy the Earth, you know."
Psychodoughboy just shrugged. I glanced towards where Mr. Eff stood- or rather had stood.
A voice spoke in my ear. "You can't lie to us, Dib! We've been inside your mind."
I froze.
"He called for you, you know. Our little maniac had him cornered in the kitchen. He was wounded and alone. He screamed for you until he was tazed and even then he screamed your name until he fell unconscious. I wonder if he wanted your help or if he was trying to warn you, even though you were so far away? Even now, he keeps looking at the door like he's expecting to see you running to his rescue."
I tried to take all of that with a grain of salt. They were manipulating me. I couldn't trust them. And yet I knew, as much as they were twisting the details, that there was the tiniest sliver of truth in their words. Zim was waiting for me. I knew this because if our roles were reversed, I- against all of my better judgment- would be waiting for him too.
The thought made me sick.
"He's running really short on time, Dib. If you're going to rescue him, you had better do it now! We can help you. Come with us."
"No." I snarled.
Then I felt him seize a handful of my hair and he gave a sharp tug. Pain exploded across the back of my head.
"Let go!" I cried, but struggling only made it worse. "LET GO!"
"If you'd just come with us, you would-"
Something whizzed past my face and Mr. Eff screamed. The grip on my hair released and I fell forward, head pounding and looked up just in time to see Mr. Eff struggling to tug a knife out of his face. Psychodoughboy shrieked with laughter as I took advantage of the distraction, scrambling forward to where Squee stood, pale and trembling, his hand still half-raised from the throw.
Mr. Eff pulled the knife out and tossed it away. I heard it clatter to the floor somewhere in the distance. "You stupid little fuck!" Then, to Psychodoughboy, he snapped. "You shut your fucking face!"
I pulled myself onto my feet using the post of the bed, gritting my teeth against the pain and dizziness. Mr. Eff approached, his grin turned into a snarl. Psychodoughboy said something in a low voice, but he waved a stubby hand to dismiss him. "Let's get rid of the complication first!"
The entire room darkened. I clutched my throbbing back of my head with one hand and shoved Squee behind me with the other until we were cornered against the wall. The little boy screamed for help, clinging to my jacket, and that was all I could hear as Mr. Eff loomed over us.
My jacket was nearly ripped off as the little boy was suddenly jerked away by Psychodoughboy, who had appeared at his side. He screamed, louder now. I whirled around and seized his arms and in the flashes of light that still shone from the window I caught glimpses of his white face- eyes wide with terror- as Psychodoughboy pulled at his arm. Ignoring the pain in my head, I gritted my teeth and held tight, trying to tug him back.
"Enough of that!" Mr. Eff's voice, suddenly course, sounded in my ear.
He swung at me again with the baseball bat, this time striking my side and cracking against my ribs. Squee screamed as I hit the wall and crashed against the window. My head spun, disoriented.
"H-Help!" I croaked. I threw up my hand as he leaned over me, the bat raised for another strike. "HELP!"
I don't know who I was calling to- Zim was a prisoner, Nny was gone, Gaz was mad at me and Dad didn't even know where I was. It just been a desperate reflex. But as soon as the words left my lips, I caught a glimpse of something in the corner of my eye.
Two glowing red eyes.
The room exploded with light. I heard a surprised yelp from Mr. Eff as the bat clattered to the floor. Squee broke free of Psychodoughboy's grip and ran back to me. We huddled together as something silver stepped into front of us.
"SUBJECT DIB IS CLASSIFIED AS AN ALLY OF THE MASTER!" GIR's blazing eyes lit up the room like a flare in the sky. Mr. Eff had lost an arm, the stub of which was still smoking, while Psychodoughboy watched in gleeful delight. "PROTECTION PROTOCOL ACTIVATED! DOOM IMPENDING IN THREE, TWO, ONE…"
He held up a hand and a laser shot across the room. The doughboys screamed. I squeezed my eyes shut against the blaring light and felt air rush past my face as the window shattered above us.
When I opened my eyes again, the daylight had returned. Everything was silent. GIR stood at the window, glowing a cheerful blue once again, watching something below. I pulled myself up on the frame, as Squee clung to my arm, and we both followed his gaze.
The lawn and the street beyond it looked empty, as if nothing had been there at all.
As I took a deep breath, the pain shot up the back of my head- nearly toppling me over. I tightened my grip on Squee, who clung to me. I could hear his quick, gasping breaths. You're okay, I wanted to say but I couldn't. So we both stood there, staring at the broken window and the clear blue sky behind it.
I flinched when I felt something brush up against me. But it was just GIR, who poked at a piece of jagged glass until fell and shattered on the ground below. The sun shone off his silver body and revealing dents and scuffs I had never noticed before.
"You saved us." My voice was hoarse, and I coughed to clear it. "Why?"
GIR nudged off another piece. It crashed somewhere, but I never looked to see. "To help master!"
"To help Zim? You said… you said you aren't even worried about him."
"Yup!"
My head was spinning. "So, you were lying?"
"Nooo..."
"I really don't understand."
GIR's blue gaze turned to me. His head tilted, just a little. "Well you gonna save him, right?"
Then he held up tiny toy moose and squeaked it. He waited for a response but I just stared at him in astonishment. So he shrugged and wandered off- giggling and squeaking the toy as he went.
"Are you okay?" I asked Squee, trying to stand up straight. Instead, I had to lean against the windowsill for support. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner."
"I'm fine." The little boy averted his eyes, but I could see that his entire body was trembling. "But if you didn't come…"
He trailed off. Neither of us wanted to finish that sentence.
As my heart returned to a normal pace, I held a hand to the back of my head. When I poked at the tender skin, pain shuddered through my body. I winced- that was going to hurt for a while. I didn't even want to think about the concussion I was probably having.
Squee looked faint at the sight of it. "I'll get ice."
As he scurried off, I sank to the floor and sat beneath the window, ignoring the broken glass that sparkled around me. What are you waiting for, human? I could almost hear Zim demanding, You're wasting time!
My stomach twisted at Mr. Eff's words- the thought of Zim, trapped in the maniac's house, his eyes flittering to the door every time he heard a floorboard creak. The skool wasn't going to call the police if he was missing, his leaders weren't going to send a rescue ship- he had no one but me to save him. I couldn't let him down.
Not again…
Squee returned with an ice pack, wrapped in a paper towel. I thanked him as I took it.
"This is going to sound crazy," I said and pressed the cold ice against the back of my head. It took all of my self-restraint not to gasp from the pain. "But I need to get into your neighbor's basement."
"The scary neighbor man's basement?!" The color drained out of Squee's face. "But you can't! It's too dangerous!"
It was getting hard to form words. "I don't have a choice. Your neighbor has kidnapped someone and I need to rescue him before something bad happens. Do you know how I can get inside?"
Squee said nothing for a long time and I thought he might never answer me. Then, with great reluctance, he murmured. "There's a tunnel downstairs. I'll show you where it is."
"Perfect." The pain in my head was immense now and I could feel the room breaking away into pieces. "Just give a minute to pull myself together and we'll go check it out."
And that's when I fainted.
A/N Dreamtime on Friday!
