Things from here on out will become rather serious and suspenseful. If you can't handle it then your therapist will have to be paid another hour… I kid, but it WILL be more suspenseful…
--
ZiM's posture was the first to change from relaxed to alert. Eleven was second, whimpering as he hid under his blanket. The hologram quickly turned off and hid the warming lamp as Dib hid with Eleven, trying to comfort the smeet.
Footsteps.
They belonged to someone or something big and their pace said that this person or thing was moving with a purpose. The footsteps stopped just a few yards from the entrance to the thicket and there was a soft cackle.
"ZiM," the voice called, "I know you're close…"
ZiM hugged the bundle that was Eleven and Dib, but said nothing. They were not going to take his smeet. Eleven was his to care for.
The footsteps moved around then stopped, "Come on now, ZiM," the voice called again, "did you think you'd be able to protect him forever? He's a weapon, nothing else. He's not even really Irken."
Eleven began to tear up as these things were said about him. ZiM had always told him that what he was designed didn't always mean that was his purpose, but these words stung with a passion. Dib could see Eleven's tears under what little light they had under the blanket and clutched the smeet's hand, squeezing it tightly.
The Irken outside kicked a rock into the thicket and then there was a loud ripping noise as he tore the thicket and the plastic covering. ZiM shielded the blanket bundle with his holographic body as the twigs and branches fell on top of them.
Dib's eyes pleaded with Eleven, the moonlight easing its way through the blanket seems, "Don't scream," he whispered, "ZiM's got this, just don't draw attention to us, O.K.?"
Eleven nodded slightly and curled up as much as possible.
The tall Irken began to step on the fallen thicket, ripping out branches and throwing them off to the side. It wasn't long before he came to the plastic covering ZiM used to blanket the walls of the thicket. The Irk smirked as he used his sharp claws to leisurely slice through the plastic.
ZiM's eyes moved back and forth rapidly as he began to think hard. This Irken would find them soon, and they had no distraction. ZiM could throw the Dib at the enemy and run away with Eleven, but if they managed to escape Eleven would never stop crying. The hologram glared at that plan and turned to look at the bundle.
The smeet… his responsibility.
ZiM sighed silently and let go of the bundle, preparing for an attack. The Irken's claws were just cutting through the plastic above the hologram when ZiM pounced.
The tall Irken was taken by surprise as the smaller Irken tackled him, sending the both of them backwards. Eleven moved to get up, but Dib held him down, shaking his head. The smeet whimpered silently as he heard the breaking of branches and growls of pain from both of the fighting Irkens.
ZiM glared the tall Irken down as he made for another frontal attack, but the other Irken just sneered and smacked the hologram back using a fallen branch. The small Irken found himself connecting painfully with a tree but as he tried to get up, ZiM's PAK sparked dangerously.
The tall Irken tsked as he threw the branch away and advanced on the fallen fighter, "ZiM," he said with disappointment, "I thought you would've been smarter than this. Now, I'll make you a deal," the Irken knelt down, "give me the location of the smeet before I count to three and I'll let you live. One."
Eleven began tear up, but Dib glared at him and held him down.
"Two."
ZiM took a deep breath, but refused to say anything, even when the tall Irken took out a high-grade, handheld firearm. Eleven looked at Dib with pain in his eyes, but the human would not allow the smeet up.
"Thr-"
The tall Irken stopped in mid-sentence as a rock connected with the back of his head. ZiM's eyes widened at the sudden interjection, but calmed considerably when he saw that the thrower was none other than the Dib.
The tall Irken's eyes tightened into a glare as he stood and pointed his weapon at the human.
Dib gulped then sighed, a sad smile on his face, "Yeah, I knew this was gonna happen…"
As the shot rippled through the air Eleven shivered as he sobbed, his eyes tightly shut. The tall Irken turned back to ZiM to finish what he saw as a pointless merry-go-round when he heard a sniff coming from behind him. When the Irken turned back, ZiM's eyes held defeat.
The tall Irken smiled triumphantly at the smeet who stood next to the human's fallen body, Eleven's eyes full of tears as he stared directly at his face.
The red-eyed Irk holstered his weapon and strolled swiftly towards the smeet, staring down at him, "Come to stop the bloodshed, have we?"
Eleven hiccupped, but said nothing.
The tall Irken knelt down to his level, "Nice to meet you, clone," he held out his hand, as though to be civil, "My name's Saint."
Eleven glared at the Irk, wiping away some of his tears, "Your name is contradicting."
Saint only smiled, "You know some very big words for a smeet. This is a good. It means you can decide for yourself. You see your friend over there?" he pointed to ZiM.
Eleven nodded.
Saint stood, "You can come quietly and save his life, or resist and before I chase you down, I'll shoot him in the PAK. Understand?"
Eleven turned away, not wanting to look at the monster that was making him choose.
Saint set a hand on his well-hidden, holstered weapon, "Either way," he sneered, "I'll catch you."
Eleven sniffed as he walked over to ZiM and hugged him, crying quietly. The hologram hugged him back but the action was brief. Saint came up behind the smeet and picked him up, holding him tightly against his chest as he started to walk from the scene having already over welcomed his stay. The last thing ZiM heard as his smeet was taken away was Eleven's soft sobs.
-
That was strange. Dib stood, a bit dizzy. The human yawned and stretched, feeling as though he had been asleep forever. Why had Eleven left with that tall Irken? He didn't look too happy about it.
Dib shook his head. ZiM had to be angry or at least concerned about it. ZiM. Dib's eyes widened. Where was he?
The human's eyes quickly scanned the area before spotting the PAK, no hologram, resting against a tree.
Dib ran over to the PAK's side, "ZiM?" he went to lift the PAK, but the hologram turned on.
ZiM eyes were closed, defeated, "Great," ZiM muttered to himself, "He takes Eleven… and now ZiM is broken beyond repair."
Dib scratched his head and stood.
ZiM giggled sadly, "ZiM is hearing the dead Dib-human's voice…"
Dib's eyes widened. Dead? Flashes of what had happened a few minutes before played in his mind. He threw the rock… that Irken was mad… creepy gun…
Dib backed up, staring at his ghost white hands, and tripped over his dead body. The ghost screamed and ZiM snapped his eyes open to scream at the ghost Dib.
The two stared at each other.
Dib's panicking eyes landed on the Irken, "Fix this!!"
ZiM glared, "How?! You're dead!!"
Dib gulped and examined the single shot through his head, "Well… I haven't dissipated yet…" he laughed nervously, "I very well may have been brought back from the dead to do something."
ZiM attempted to stand, but his PAK sparked again, "Yeah, you are here to take ZiM back to his labs so that he can be fixed and go after Eleven."
Dib shrugged as he stood, "I think I can live with that as long as I get to help."
The hologram glared at the ghost boy, "You? HELP?! Never!!"
"Why not?"
ZiM closed his eyes angrily, "Because Eleven, you-" he stopped.
The Dib reminded him of his responsibility. His smeet.
ZiM sighed, "Fine. But you can't get in my way… Why do you want to help, Dib?"
Dib smiled, "I'm a ghost, it's summer and this could possibly be the biggest thing to happen in the history of the universe. What kind of group would rely on a smeet for power unless he was super powerful?"
ZiM's hologram shivered, "Fine, fine. I'm going to turn off my hologram and you are going to carry ZiM back to the base."
Dib coughed, "What about my body?"
The hologram disappeared and the PAK released what looked like a pen connected to a robotic tentacle. The pen shot out a beam that first cut the body into cubes, then absorbed them.
"Hey!!" Dib exclaimed, "My body!! What-"
"Fear not human!!" the PAK replied, absorbing the last few cubes, "I've digitized it. When we meet up with Eleven later, he can revive it and put you back into your own body."
Dib picked the PAK up, surprised, "He can do that?"
The PAK beeped, "Yes, he's quite powerful. He revived countless test subject for me usually a couple times before I told him to just let them die."
Dib rested the PAK under his arm, "Huh…"
And so began their unsaid pact.
--
There you go. Not quite dead, is he? But will Eleven be able to fix it?