CHAPTER 8

Jack felt as if his body had liquefied. His nerves and muscles failed him. Even his mind seemed to be halfway to its next incarnation. The world around him looked like a dream: The concrete platform and the tile walls kept transforming into a seascape and macabre figures gathered around him. Strange shapes seemed to appear and disappear. The Saxon army marched toward him.

When one of the soldiers came up and actually lifted him off of Djinny's body, he realized with considerable shock that that part was no dream. Harold Godwinson stepped through the crowd.

"Rebecca?" he called.

"Donald!" she screamed back. The Saxon King ran toward her.

Djinny kicked and yelled as three overweight men dressed in identical off-the-shelf mail shirts attempted to wrestle her gun away. At one point she succeeded in taking back her weapon only to find, much to her horror, that her last bullet had been embedded in Rebecca's ankle. A fellow dressed more on par with the 100 Years War than the Battle of Hastings took it upon himself to draw his pseudo-replica sword and rid Djinny of all four trouble-making arms. The lovely blue alien began to scream and swear angrily; she was going to look like such a freak for the next few months while she waited for her arms to grow back.

Tired, pained, and yet knowing that help had arrived, Jack let the ocean and clouds overwhelm him. Two startled geeks dragged the unconscious Samurai over to their DM.

"Hey, Donald? He's not looking too good. What should we do?"

Rebecca began to scream. "We've been injured! Someone needs to find Gabriel!"

Donald DuMont knew that his wife was completely crazy and inclined to get herself into all kinds of strange messes. He had known it when he married her, and he knew that there was no use in scolding her or becoming angry over it. All he could do was help her out the best he could.

"Where would he be?" Donald asked calmly.

"I don't know what day it is..."

"It's Tuesday, honey, and it's almost four in the afternoon."

Rebecca closed her eyes, wishing she could faint and not have to feel the aches in her joints any longer. "He's probably at My Life In Pink. It's on Avenue Foch. He'll be using his stage-name..."

Donald picked out one of his friends and assigned him the job of finding Gabriel, then he motioned the rest of his army along to help in escorting the lovely Rebecca and the famous Samurai Jack out to the red Peugeot. As the two injured were being helped into the car, a group of roughly five girls approached. One girl dressed in a purple kimono ran over to Donald.

"Excuse me," she said, "Is that Samurai Jack?"

"I believe so," said Donald.

There were giggles and gasps of excitement from the girls.

"Can we talk to him?"

Donald glanced at the Samurai. His face was covered in dried blood, beneath which one could just make out morbidly pale skin marred by bruises. Donald turned back to the fangirls.

"I don't think that he's feeling very well. Sorry."

The girls gasped.

"Is he hurt?"

"It looks like it."

"Where are you taking him?"

"To my apartment. I know a man with some medical training."

"Can we come with you?"

Donald thought it over. It sounded harmless enough. "You'll have to take another car, there's no more room in this one. But sure."

The girls giggled and nodded happily in response, then went scampering off to their own vehicles. With that Donald, Rebecca, Jack, twelve pseudo-knights and five fangirls began their journey across Paris.

Jack was herded off to the guest room while the rest of the group went about collecting first aid supplies for the warrior. Even Rebecca, despite her own injuries, stumbled and limped about the kitchen, bleeding all over the floor while she filled small plastic bags with ice, Gabriel's instructions from the previous night still fresh in her mind. One of the geeks, dressed in an exact replica of the armor worn in Albrecht Dürer's Knight, Death and Devil, began consulting his handheld computer for more information on the emergency treatment of gunshot victims. A young fangirl named Alba was given the task of guarding Jack's sword.

The Samurai was completely out by the time Gabriel arrived which was probably a good thing, for the sight of his doctor clad in gold sequins and pink feathers like some sort of obscene peacock would doubtless have caused him undue distress. Gabriel himself felt slightly uncomfortable but he mentally chided himself for this. He had to pay for medical school somehow, and a female impersonator was a perfectly respectable job in Paris.

The geeks and fangirls watched anxiously as the drag-queen examined their beloved Samurai Jack. After a short time Gabriel began listing medical items he required and where they could be found. A few of the observers rushed out to get them.

An hour later the Samurai was in stable condition and resting peacefully. Gabriel had pumped him full of sedatives just to be safe; he was going to see to it that Jack got plenty of rest and obtained no further injuries during the next few days.

When Rebecca asked to be examined, Gabriel refused, telling her that there was no reason she should be unable to go to a hospital and get treated by qualified doctors.

"But I can't drive in this condition, and I don't want to leave all these people alone in the house," she protested. In truth she just didn't want to be separated from Jack.

"I'll drive you," Gabriel answered, "And Donald can stay here."

Rebecca pouted slightly as there was no good argument against that. One of the Saxon-warriors helped Gabriel carry her out to her car.

Jack dreamt that he was relaxing by a silent waterfall. Blossoming fruit-trees grew all around. The sky above him was a deep purple-blue and the moon shone so brightly that everything might as well have been lit by the sun. All the constellations were clearly visible. The water was warm, and a steam rose from the pond at the base of the fall.

Next thing he knew, the waterfall had dissolved into a door and the moon into a lamp next to his bed. Startled by the unfamiliar room, he quickly leapt up. Doing so, he felt a dull ache in his arms, leg and sides. He noticed the bandages, and suddenly it all came back to him. He was probably in Rebecca's apartment.

His sandals were arranged near the bed. Not bothering to put them on he opened up the door. Without a doubt it was Rebecca's apartment. Nobody else had such a uniformly disturbing style of decor. He took another step forward and accidentally kicked something with his right foot. He looked down to find a teenage girl curled up on the floor. She had been asleep until the rude awakening.

"I am sorry. I did not see you lying there."

The girl gasped, a most blissful expression across her face. Then she cried out. "Everybody! He's awake!"

All of a sudden girls of various ages and races began flooding into his view. It seemed impossible for so many to have been concealed in the tiny apartment. "Samurai Jack! Samurai Jack!" they chanted with the gusto of a Hare Krishna. "You're awake! You're okay!"

Clad only in bandages and a bloodstained fundoshi, Jack stood in the doorway, staring bewildered at the scene before him. He wondered if he was still dreaming.