Scott and Patsy rode across the countryside for two days, and finally came
to the outskirts of a small town. The town had the look of a graveyard to
it. As Scott and Patsy made their way through the small village, they saw
for themselves just how much of a dump it was. The small hovels were
shoddily patched and several were crumbling. Peasants were wallowing in the
muddy, filthy streets, and a foul stench hung on the air.
"What is this wretched place?" asked Scott.
"Some peasant village or another, sire. I don't recall the name," said Patsy. The more the young man talked, the more Scott grew unnerved at his resemblance to Bobby, although Patsy had constantly denying knowing who Bobby even was.
Patsy wrinkled his nose as he sniffed the air. "There's a pestilence upon this place for sure, my liege," he said. "We shouldn't stay here too much longer,"
"You're right," Scott said as he dodged a pile of filth in the street. "Wherever my friends are, they aren't here," Patsy nodded, and they slogged on through the squalid streets.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the town, a tall man with shaggy hair was pulling a cart loaded with several dead bodies on it. He was known as the cart-master, and had the unique job of removing the victims of the plague from the small village.
"Bring out your dead!" he called loudly as he patrolled the streets. His assistant, a tiny girl with a small nose and pigtails, walked beside him. She carried a pot with her, which she hit with a stick to accompany the man's chants.
"Bring out your dead!" Whack! "Bring out your dead!" Whack! "Bring out your dead!" Whack!
"Wait! Wait!" called a man as the cart passed by his house. He ran out of his house, carrying a body over his shoulder.
"Here's one for you," he said as he caught up to the cart-master.
"Ninepence," the cart-master insisted.
The man fumbled in his pockets for the money, when suddenly the dead body over his shoulders began to stir.
"Uhh, where am I?" asked the former corpse. He brushed his long hair away from his scruffy face and looked at the corpses stacked in the cart.
"Hey, hang on a minute, bub! I'm not dead!" Logan said as his healing powers began to kick in.
"What was that?" asked the cart-master.
"Nothing, nothing at all. Here's your ninepence," said the customer as he found the right amount of money.
"Are you deaf? I said I'm not dead!" Logan insisted again.
"Here, he says he's not dead!" said the cart-master.
"Yes he is," insisted the customer loudly.
"I'm not!" said Logan just as loudly.
"He isn't?" asked the cart-master.
"Well, he will be soon, he's very ill,"
"No, really, I'm getting better!"
"No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment," said the customer as he looked back over at Logan over his shoulder.
"I can't take him like that! It's against regulations," said the cart- master.
"I don't want to go on that thing!" Logan said.
"Oh, don't be such a baby!" snapped the customer.
"I can't take him," said the cart-master.
"Really! I feel fine!" said Logan.
"Well, do us a favor, will you?" the customer asked the cart-master.
"I can't," the cart-master replied.
"Well, can you hang around a couple minutes? He won't be long," said the customer.
"No, I've got to go by the Robinsons, they've lost nine today," the cart- master explained.
"Well, when's your next round?" asked the customer.
"Thursday," said the cart-master.
Logan began to feel desperate. "Watch, I'll just go for a walk," he said.
"You're not fooling anyone, you know?" the customer told him, then turned back to the cart-master. "Look, isn't there anything you can do?" he asked.
"I feel happy! I feel happy!" Logan began to sing, getting delirious.
The cart-master nodded to the little girl, and she smacked Logan on the head with her pot. Logan's eyes rolled back into his head as the blow knocked him out.
"Ah, thanks very much," said the customer as he dropped Logan onto the cart.
"Not at all," said the cart-master. "See you on Thursday, then?"
"Right," said the customer.
Just then, Scott hopped by the men. Patsy followed closely behind him, smacking the coconuts together. In his haste, Scott didn't notice Logan lying facedown in the cart, the cart-master's slight resemblance to Sam, or the small girl that looked very much like Rahne.
"Who's that then?" asked the customer.
"I dunno," replied the cart-master. "Must be a king,"
"Why?"
"He hasn't got slime all over him," replied the cart-master, and then picked up his cart and resumed his rounds.
"Bring out your dead!" Whack! "Bring out your dead!" Whack! "Bring out your dead!" Whack! "Bring out your." Whish!
Logan, the cart-master and the girl all vanished as the vortex reappeared and sucked them up, leaving the cart full of dead bodies in the streets.
X
"What is this wretched place?" asked Scott.
"Some peasant village or another, sire. I don't recall the name," said Patsy. The more the young man talked, the more Scott grew unnerved at his resemblance to Bobby, although Patsy had constantly denying knowing who Bobby even was.
Patsy wrinkled his nose as he sniffed the air. "There's a pestilence upon this place for sure, my liege," he said. "We shouldn't stay here too much longer,"
"You're right," Scott said as he dodged a pile of filth in the street. "Wherever my friends are, they aren't here," Patsy nodded, and they slogged on through the squalid streets.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the town, a tall man with shaggy hair was pulling a cart loaded with several dead bodies on it. He was known as the cart-master, and had the unique job of removing the victims of the plague from the small village.
"Bring out your dead!" he called loudly as he patrolled the streets. His assistant, a tiny girl with a small nose and pigtails, walked beside him. She carried a pot with her, which she hit with a stick to accompany the man's chants.
"Bring out your dead!" Whack! "Bring out your dead!" Whack! "Bring out your dead!" Whack!
"Wait! Wait!" called a man as the cart passed by his house. He ran out of his house, carrying a body over his shoulder.
"Here's one for you," he said as he caught up to the cart-master.
"Ninepence," the cart-master insisted.
The man fumbled in his pockets for the money, when suddenly the dead body over his shoulders began to stir.
"Uhh, where am I?" asked the former corpse. He brushed his long hair away from his scruffy face and looked at the corpses stacked in the cart.
"Hey, hang on a minute, bub! I'm not dead!" Logan said as his healing powers began to kick in.
"What was that?" asked the cart-master.
"Nothing, nothing at all. Here's your ninepence," said the customer as he found the right amount of money.
"Are you deaf? I said I'm not dead!" Logan insisted again.
"Here, he says he's not dead!" said the cart-master.
"Yes he is," insisted the customer loudly.
"I'm not!" said Logan just as loudly.
"He isn't?" asked the cart-master.
"Well, he will be soon, he's very ill,"
"No, really, I'm getting better!"
"No you're not, you'll be stone dead in a moment," said the customer as he looked back over at Logan over his shoulder.
"I can't take him like that! It's against regulations," said the cart- master.
"I don't want to go on that thing!" Logan said.
"Oh, don't be such a baby!" snapped the customer.
"I can't take him," said the cart-master.
"Really! I feel fine!" said Logan.
"Well, do us a favor, will you?" the customer asked the cart-master.
"I can't," the cart-master replied.
"Well, can you hang around a couple minutes? He won't be long," said the customer.
"No, I've got to go by the Robinsons, they've lost nine today," the cart- master explained.
"Well, when's your next round?" asked the customer.
"Thursday," said the cart-master.
Logan began to feel desperate. "Watch, I'll just go for a walk," he said.
"You're not fooling anyone, you know?" the customer told him, then turned back to the cart-master. "Look, isn't there anything you can do?" he asked.
"I feel happy! I feel happy!" Logan began to sing, getting delirious.
The cart-master nodded to the little girl, and she smacked Logan on the head with her pot. Logan's eyes rolled back into his head as the blow knocked him out.
"Ah, thanks very much," said the customer as he dropped Logan onto the cart.
"Not at all," said the cart-master. "See you on Thursday, then?"
"Right," said the customer.
Just then, Scott hopped by the men. Patsy followed closely behind him, smacking the coconuts together. In his haste, Scott didn't notice Logan lying facedown in the cart, the cart-master's slight resemblance to Sam, or the small girl that looked very much like Rahne.
"Who's that then?" asked the customer.
"I dunno," replied the cart-master. "Must be a king,"
"Why?"
"He hasn't got slime all over him," replied the cart-master, and then picked up his cart and resumed his rounds.
"Bring out your dead!" Whack! "Bring out your dead!" Whack! "Bring out your dead!" Whack! "Bring out your." Whish!
Logan, the cart-master and the girl all vanished as the vortex reappeared and sucked them up, leaving the cart full of dead bodies in the streets.
X