Uhhhm...yeah. I'm over a week late, I know. O.o; Sorry 'bout that, been kinda busy, kinda forgetful, and kinda lazy. Heh. Plus I'm kinda scared to post this chappy. Tis insane.
Oh, and to the person who wanted to know why Dib left Zim's pants on: I'm too embarrassed to write about a naked Zim. Realistically, yeah, that is probably what Dib would've done, especially since he thinks of Irkens like lab rats. Heh. I just don't want people picturing Zim like that, it would be kinda distracting. To me anyway. O.o; Ahem...let's move on.
This chapter is very violent. Zim gets beaten up a lot. Lots of knives, clubs, guns,
blood, and one little swear word. Just a little heads up. ^_^; Oh, and the characters are kinda nuts. 'specially the western dude. He's evil/comic relief. Sorta. Shaddup self! *explodes*
Subject 0001
-------------
9:27 a.m.
-------------
Zim blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he woke up, trying to see in the bright
morning sunlight. He wasn't used to waking up to light. He'd been in his cell for so long.
At first he was confused and wondered how he ended up in a forest, but then he felt the
dull pain in his chest and remembered the bullet wound.
He looked down at his bare chest and saw mainly dried blood smeared down to
his stomach. His skin looked more brownish-red than green. Zim wasn't in nearly as
much pain as the night before, which he was happy about.
'The guards probably fixed me up last night, or maybe the wound wasn't as bad as
I thought..,' Zim thought, trying to come up with an answer. He shrugged it off and
spread himself out on the ground, absorbing the sunlight. The night before had been
bitterly cold, and his stiff body needed to get warmed up.
A twig snapped nearby. A flock of birds darted from the trees, chirping wildly.
Zim sat up and watched them go until they were dots in the sky, not realizing their
warning. He sighed heavily, his throat raw with thirst, and let his mind drift.
A rope was thrown from the trees, and it landed perfectly around Zim's neck. It
tightened its hold, the material of the rope scratching Zim's neck. The person controlling
the rope jerked it towards them, and Zim was flung toward a tree. He smacked into it and
slid back to the ground, dizzy and coughing.
"Woo-wee!" yelled a man with a southern accent. "I caught myself a big one!" A
fat man jumped from the tree and slammed Zim against it, holding him by the neck.
There was a knife in his free hand. He was wearing all white aside from his black boots.
He smiled up at Zim as he choked him and brought the knife closer to his neck.
"I'm gonna skin ya and hang ya up on my wall," the man said, and he laughed
maniacally afterwards. Zim struggled to get loose, but the fat man's grip was too strong,
and he soon let himself hang limp against the tree.
"What a disappointment. That crazy scientist boy told me I was in for a tough
hunt. Here I find a scrawny little Irken, hardly worth my time," he said, and he spat at the
ground. "Well, no use putting off the dirty work." He raised the knife up closer to Zim's
neck and brought it to the side so he could make a good slash.
"Ready, little man?" he said with a chuckle, and Zim's eyes went wide as he
stared at the knife glinting in the sun. "One...two..."
The fat man screamed and let go of the knife. He cradled his bleeding hand that
had been shot. Zim fell to the ground and quickly broke into a run, ignoring the branches
that scratched at his chest and how badly his feet hurt from the watery morning dew.
Moaning, the fat man looked around the trees for the shooter. A young man that
looked about 18 crept out of the shadows, a pistol in his hand. He was tall with long, red
hair which went down to his waist. His green eyes sparkled when he smiled at the fat
man.
"You weren't thinking of killing MY Irken, were you?" he said, his voice smooth
and cold. He put the pistol into his trench coat, and the fat man saw other guns tucked
into it as well. "The name's Castro, and I'm the hunter that's getting that Irken."
"Thorton," the fat man spat at the boy, and he ripped part of his coat off and
wrapped it around his bleeding hand tightly. "I'm not liking your attitude, Castro. There
are 3 other hunters out here, what makes you so sure you're going to get him?"
"I'm better than you," Castro replied, chuckling softly. "Besides, I've been
standing there since three in the morning, and neither you or the Irken knew it. I could
have killed him as soon as he woke up. What do you say to that, Thorton?"
Thorton pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it. "I say that you're a liar."
Castro closed his eyes and grinned, then started walking, following the Irken. He
never did chase down his victims. He would follow them, wait for them to get tired, then
strike. All his fellow gang members feared him, as well as the other gangs in his
neighborhood. He smiled as he walked, wondering what his friends would think when he came home with the Irken's body.
-------------
10:14 a.m.
-------------
Zim continued running until he tripped over a log and fell down a steep hill. He
laid at the bottom, coughing and gasping for air. He was already tired, and it was only morning. Zim rubbed at his forehead, wondering how he could last the whole day like this.
Being almost naked did cause him many problems. Zim rubbed at his feet that had
burn marks all over them already from the morning dew. His chest and arms had tiny
scratches that stung from all the little branches and bushes he had run through. Zim was
glad to have pants, for he had fallen down a number of times and they had protected his
legs a little.
'I've got to be a lot more alert,' Zim thought, sitting up. He suddenly realized he
wouldn't be able to sleep without being captured or killed. Zim moaned, seeing how
hopeless everything was becoming. He punched at the ground.
'I should've just stayed in my cell,' he thought angrily, and he punched at the
ground again. He sighed heavily, feeling his anger turn to depression and his eyes well up.
He shook his head quickly, refusing to let himself break down. 'I am still an invader,'
Zim thought, something he always reminded himself.
"Yeah right," he said aloud, kicking over a rock. He laid back down, feeling
drained. He hoped he wouldn't be disturbed for at least a little while. He didn't think he'd
be able to pull himself up right away, and his legs were too stiff to run like he had before.
"Resting already?"
Zim turned and looked behind him in the direction of the voice, but saw no one.
He kept watching the area for a while then turned back around.
"ACK!" Zim shrieked. A short man stood in front of him with his hands behind
his back. He was wearing a black jacket and dark blue pants with a belt around them, and
there was a long club tucked under the belt. The man smiled, happy that Zim had been
startled.
"Hello, Irken. My name is Adam. I've come to destroy you," the little man said,
bowing slightly and closing his eyes. He had black hair that was neatly tied in a pony tail.
He straightened himself and opened his eyes that were a pale blue color. He grinned at
Zim, slowly pulling the club from his belt.
Zim quickly turned and scrambled to get up, but Adam clubbed him in the back
and he fell back down. Zim closed his eyes tight and tensed, expecting another blow, but
nothing came. He sat up and turned to look for Adam, but he was no longer behind him.
"What?" Zim asked the silence, standing up and rubbing at his back. He'd have a
bruise there later. He looked around for the little man, but he couldn't find him
anywhere. Zim scratched his head nervously, and slowly started walking through the
forest, carefully observing the area.
Some leaves rustled in the trees above him, and he stopped in his tracks. He
looked around him for something he could use as a weapon and only found a skinny stick
that would probably break if he hit somebody with it.
Adam watched Zim with curiosity, sitting on a limb above the Irken's head. Adam
watched him closely, and decided that he would be an easy opponent. 'He's scared and
desperate,' Adam thought with vice, grinning when he saw Zim pick up the stick and
sigh. 'I'll get this over with quickly.'
Adam jumped from the limb towards Zim, but Zim saw him and quickly jumped
out of the way. Zim hurried off and broke into a run, but was clumsy and tripped over a
large rock. Adam struck him hard across the shoulder as he stumbled. Zim fell to the
ground hard and tried to force himself back up, but Adam struck him on the side of the
head, turning Zim so he faced upwards.
Adam quickly walked over to Zim and put his foot across his chest, keeping him
pinned to the ground. Zim struggled to get loose, but Adam raised his foot up high and
stomped on Zim's ribs.
Zim laid still, his vision beginning to blur. 'This isn't fair,' he thought sadly, clenching his
fists in frustration. Adam snickered and smiled down at him, pulling a dagger out of his
blue jacket. Zim's eyes grew wide and he gasped.
"This was too easy," Adam said, and he raised the dagger above his head and
aimed. Zim grabbed a wad of dirt and threw it up at Adam's face. The dirt went into his
eyes, blinding him temporarily. Adam yelled and dropped the dagger, rubbing at his face.
Zim kicked him off and darted into the forest.
-------------
11:37 a.m.
-------------
"Why hasn't anyone called yet?! It is nearly noon!" Dib exclaimed, throwing a
book at the wall. Tom flinched as it struck the wall, chipping it.
"Maybe they can't find him," Tom said slowly, and Dib glared at him.
"Can't find him?! I told them the exact location where we dumped him off. Sure,
the guards did remove the bullets from him and healed him a little, but how far could he
have possibly gone through the night?! He looked like he was about to faint when we left
him!" Dib cried, throwing another book at the wall.
"Sir, please control yourself, I'm sure they've killed him already but haven't been
able to contact you yet. They are in a forest after all, and perhaps their cell phones won't
work in certain areas," Tom pointed out, and Dib calmed down a little.
Dib walked over to his desk and sat down in his chair, propping his feet up on the
desk. He rubbed at the sides of his head and breathed deeply, something the psychologist
had taught him to do when he was younger.
"I hope you're right, Tom," Dib said, his voice softer and calmer. "I'm just
stressed. Sorry for freaking out. I'm sure 0001 is long dead now. You may leave now."
-------------
12:38 p.m.
-------------
Zim was laying in a shadowed area which made a good hiding spot. There was a
large stack of boulders behind him and a bunch of large trees casting their shadows on
him. There was a large bush in front of him that he could hide in if he felt threatened.
He felt sick, trembling and sweating all at once. A hunter had passed by his hiding
spot, and Zim had nearly fled from her, but she didn't see him and continued walking
without disturbing him. Zim was glad she hadn't seen him. She'd been carrying a long
whip with her and what looked like a rifle, and Zim could tell that she was a strong
runner.
'What am I going to do?' Zim thought for the thousandth time. Sooner or later the
hunters would find his hiding spot, and there was no way he could run from them forever.
He'd eventually wear himself out or make a clumsy mistake, and he'd be quickly
disposed of. Zim could picture his end in his mind very clearly, his eyes going blank and
his body falling limp to the ground. He shook his head, trying to get the vision out of his
mind.
"...he was a weakly feller, but he sure had some legs on him!"
Zim nearly cried out when he heard the fat man's voice. He clamped his mouth
shut with his hands to keep himself quiet and he froze in place. The fat man with the
white suit was talking on a cell phone, pacing around the area. Zim heard him coming
closer and shivered.
"Nope. No sir, I did not get him...I'm not sure if the others did yet, I doubt it. I
haven't seen him for a while, sir..," the fat man was saying, and there was yelling on the
other line. "I'm sorry, sir. Yes, sir. I'll try. Goodbye."
The fat man put his cell phone in his pocket, then pulled out a cigar and his
lighter. He lit it and inhaled deeply, then slowly let the smoke come out of his mouth and
nose.
"That scientist boy really rubs me the wrong way," he said, and he took a seat on a
large rock. Zim could see him from where he was lying. He twitched slightly with
anxiety, hoping the fat man couldn't see him. The fat man wiped the sweat from his
forehead and looked up at the sun. It was past noon now.
"Well, howdy, Thorton."
"Hrmph. Hello, Castro," the fat man said angrily. Zim bit his lower lip, panic
gripping him. There were now two hunters near him, and one of them he didn't know.
"So how goes the hunt, old man?" Castro said, his hands in the trench coat's front
pockets. He smiled at Thorton, who looked sweaty and frustrated.
"Same as yours," Thorton replied angrily. Castro gritted his teeth, angered by the
insult, but he shrugged it off.
"I happen to know exactly where the Irken is, Thorton. I'm just being a good
sportsman and letting everyone get a chance," Castro said. Zim's eyes grew wide and he
became tense. This new hunter had been watching him the entire time, and he hadn't even
sensed it. Zim let his antenna droop, feeling defeated.
"You're bluffing," Thorton said, chewing on the end of his cigar. Castro closed
his eyes and chuckled. He turned around and pointed down a narrow path with ivy all
around it.
"He's hiding down that path," Castro said, and Thorton quickly pulled his rope
out of his pocket and hurried down the path. Castro held back a laugh as the fat man left.
"Fool."
Zim relaxed, seeing Thorton leave and realizing Castro had no clue about his
location. He knew he would have to leave his hiding place soon, but he would stay there
until night fell or if a hunter came too close. He sighed and closed his eyes.
"Gotcha!"
Somebody with gloved hands grabbed Zim's arms and flung him out of his hiding
spot. Castro immediately pulled a pistol out his trench coat and aimed it at him. Before he
could fire, a man in a white lab coat grabbed Zim by the neck. He dragged Zim so he was
mostly laying down to the ground and put him in a headlock. He pulled a laser out of his
coat and put it under Zim's chin.
"Brain has overcome brawn once again!" the man said, laughing insanely. He had
an awfully large forehead with brown hair that look uncombed. He wore black goggles
and black gloves that shined in the sunlight. "Dib will praise me! Praise me I say! And
then he'll HAVE to let me work for him! Irvin shall succeed at last!"
Castro shot beside the scientist that was holding Zim down. Zim continued
struggling to get loose, but the scientist froze.
"Let go of the Irken, you psycho!" Castro yelled angrily, and he fired another shot
at the scientist.
"Gyaah! Knock it off, you punk! Irvin does not like to play rough! I certainly do
not!" the scientist said. Zim kicked at him to get loose, and the scientist hit him against
the side of the head.
Zim was feeling faint, and he had a bad headache. He'd been struck against his
head too many times, and his other bruises were paining him. He let himself go half limp
in the scientist's grip.
"M-yes! Irvin shall show all of you hunters a thing or two! You all said I couldn't
do it, you said I was weak, but look at Irvin now!" He laughed insanely. Castro glared at
him, then shot near his foot. Irvin screamed, then dug the tip of the laser deeper into
Zim's chin.
"The Irken is what you want, is it not, my lad? Aww...poor boy. Too bad. Irvin is
the winner of this particular hunt!" Irvin shouted with glee, but he was suddenly kicked
hard in the head and a rifle was fired. The bullet hit the ground just above where Irvin's
head landed. Zim was let loose, but a whip wrapped around his arm before he could go
anywhere.
"Darn, I missed," a woman said, and she pulled Zim towards her.
"Cleo, you big ole slut, you," Castro said, smiling.
"'ello, Castro my man. How's it been?" the woman said, blowing a kiss at Castro.
She was wearing tight white shorts that were very short and a tight black top with no
sleeves. She had dark skin and black hair that she kept in a long braid behind her
back. She looked over her sunglasses at Castro and winked.
"Things haven't been the same since you left," Castro said. He cleared his throat,
growing serious. "I'm sorry to say this, Cleo, but that's my Irken you got there." He raised
his pistol and aimed for Zim's head.
"Not so fast, sugar," Cleo replied, and she pointed her rifle up at Castro. Castro
glared at her. She smiled. "You really aren't a gentleman. Trying to steal a woman's
property. The nerve." She fired the rifle. Castro dove out the way, the bullet hitting his
foot.
"Bitch," Castro said, his voice strained.
"Always was, always will be," Cleo said, and she laughed. She aimed her rifle
back at Zim, but he was no longer there. He had untangled his arm from the whip while
she was distracted and hurried away.
-------------
1:35 p.m.
-------------
It was the afternoon when Dib got the phone call. He'd been pacing around his
desk ever since he'd talked to Thorton. He ran up to his desk and picked up the phone
with excitement when it finally rang.
"Did you get him?" Dib asked the caller.
"Uh...Dib, sir?" It was Castro. "There is a guy named Irvin here, and Cleo kicked
him real hard in the head. I think he needs medical attention."
"Did you get the Irken or not?" Dib asked impatiently.
"...No, sir."
Dib's excitement quickly turned to anger. "You guys STILL haven't killed subject
0001? Still?! YOU GUYS ARE PATHETIC!" he shouted into the phone. He slammed it
on his desk a couple of times. There was silence on the other end for a moment.
"Sir," Castro finally said, "Irvin needs medical attention, and so do I. Cleo shot
me in the foot with her rifle, and it didn't just nick me. My foot is bleeding badly right
now. I was hoping you could send some people down to help us."
Dib sighed heavily and didn't answer for a while. He took his glasses off and
rubbed at his forehead. "I'll have some people down there in a minute, Castro. You're
phone call will be traced, so just stay there. Irvin will be disqualified, and you will receive
a penalty."
"Penalty?!" Castro said, outraged. "Cleo was the one who-"
"Goodbye," Dib said, and he hung up the phone.
-------------
That was very long. I hope you got through it all without too much boredom. Dib needs Zoloft. Heh. Yeah. I think the next chappy should be up April 9. Hopefully I'll get it up on time. O.o
-Crystal
Oh, and to the person who wanted to know why Dib left Zim's pants on: I'm too embarrassed to write about a naked Zim. Realistically, yeah, that is probably what Dib would've done, especially since he thinks of Irkens like lab rats. Heh. I just don't want people picturing Zim like that, it would be kinda distracting. To me anyway. O.o; Ahem...let's move on.
This chapter is very violent. Zim gets beaten up a lot. Lots of knives, clubs, guns,
blood, and one little swear word. Just a little heads up. ^_^; Oh, and the characters are kinda nuts. 'specially the western dude. He's evil/comic relief. Sorta. Shaddup self! *explodes*
Subject 0001
-------------
9:27 a.m.
-------------
Zim blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he woke up, trying to see in the bright
morning sunlight. He wasn't used to waking up to light. He'd been in his cell for so long.
At first he was confused and wondered how he ended up in a forest, but then he felt the
dull pain in his chest and remembered the bullet wound.
He looked down at his bare chest and saw mainly dried blood smeared down to
his stomach. His skin looked more brownish-red than green. Zim wasn't in nearly as
much pain as the night before, which he was happy about.
'The guards probably fixed me up last night, or maybe the wound wasn't as bad as
I thought..,' Zim thought, trying to come up with an answer. He shrugged it off and
spread himself out on the ground, absorbing the sunlight. The night before had been
bitterly cold, and his stiff body needed to get warmed up.
A twig snapped nearby. A flock of birds darted from the trees, chirping wildly.
Zim sat up and watched them go until they were dots in the sky, not realizing their
warning. He sighed heavily, his throat raw with thirst, and let his mind drift.
A rope was thrown from the trees, and it landed perfectly around Zim's neck. It
tightened its hold, the material of the rope scratching Zim's neck. The person controlling
the rope jerked it towards them, and Zim was flung toward a tree. He smacked into it and
slid back to the ground, dizzy and coughing.
"Woo-wee!" yelled a man with a southern accent. "I caught myself a big one!" A
fat man jumped from the tree and slammed Zim against it, holding him by the neck.
There was a knife in his free hand. He was wearing all white aside from his black boots.
He smiled up at Zim as he choked him and brought the knife closer to his neck.
"I'm gonna skin ya and hang ya up on my wall," the man said, and he laughed
maniacally afterwards. Zim struggled to get loose, but the fat man's grip was too strong,
and he soon let himself hang limp against the tree.
"What a disappointment. That crazy scientist boy told me I was in for a tough
hunt. Here I find a scrawny little Irken, hardly worth my time," he said, and he spat at the
ground. "Well, no use putting off the dirty work." He raised the knife up closer to Zim's
neck and brought it to the side so he could make a good slash.
"Ready, little man?" he said with a chuckle, and Zim's eyes went wide as he
stared at the knife glinting in the sun. "One...two..."
The fat man screamed and let go of the knife. He cradled his bleeding hand that
had been shot. Zim fell to the ground and quickly broke into a run, ignoring the branches
that scratched at his chest and how badly his feet hurt from the watery morning dew.
Moaning, the fat man looked around the trees for the shooter. A young man that
looked about 18 crept out of the shadows, a pistol in his hand. He was tall with long, red
hair which went down to his waist. His green eyes sparkled when he smiled at the fat
man.
"You weren't thinking of killing MY Irken, were you?" he said, his voice smooth
and cold. He put the pistol into his trench coat, and the fat man saw other guns tucked
into it as well. "The name's Castro, and I'm the hunter that's getting that Irken."
"Thorton," the fat man spat at the boy, and he ripped part of his coat off and
wrapped it around his bleeding hand tightly. "I'm not liking your attitude, Castro. There
are 3 other hunters out here, what makes you so sure you're going to get him?"
"I'm better than you," Castro replied, chuckling softly. "Besides, I've been
standing there since three in the morning, and neither you or the Irken knew it. I could
have killed him as soon as he woke up. What do you say to that, Thorton?"
Thorton pulled a cigar from his pocket and lit it. "I say that you're a liar."
Castro closed his eyes and grinned, then started walking, following the Irken. He
never did chase down his victims. He would follow them, wait for them to get tired, then
strike. All his fellow gang members feared him, as well as the other gangs in his
neighborhood. He smiled as he walked, wondering what his friends would think when he came home with the Irken's body.
-------------
10:14 a.m.
-------------
Zim continued running until he tripped over a log and fell down a steep hill. He
laid at the bottom, coughing and gasping for air. He was already tired, and it was only morning. Zim rubbed at his forehead, wondering how he could last the whole day like this.
Being almost naked did cause him many problems. Zim rubbed at his feet that had
burn marks all over them already from the morning dew. His chest and arms had tiny
scratches that stung from all the little branches and bushes he had run through. Zim was
glad to have pants, for he had fallen down a number of times and they had protected his
legs a little.
'I've got to be a lot more alert,' Zim thought, sitting up. He suddenly realized he
wouldn't be able to sleep without being captured or killed. Zim moaned, seeing how
hopeless everything was becoming. He punched at the ground.
'I should've just stayed in my cell,' he thought angrily, and he punched at the
ground again. He sighed heavily, feeling his anger turn to depression and his eyes well up.
He shook his head quickly, refusing to let himself break down. 'I am still an invader,'
Zim thought, something he always reminded himself.
"Yeah right," he said aloud, kicking over a rock. He laid back down, feeling
drained. He hoped he wouldn't be disturbed for at least a little while. He didn't think he'd
be able to pull himself up right away, and his legs were too stiff to run like he had before.
"Resting already?"
Zim turned and looked behind him in the direction of the voice, but saw no one.
He kept watching the area for a while then turned back around.
"ACK!" Zim shrieked. A short man stood in front of him with his hands behind
his back. He was wearing a black jacket and dark blue pants with a belt around them, and
there was a long club tucked under the belt. The man smiled, happy that Zim had been
startled.
"Hello, Irken. My name is Adam. I've come to destroy you," the little man said,
bowing slightly and closing his eyes. He had black hair that was neatly tied in a pony tail.
He straightened himself and opened his eyes that were a pale blue color. He grinned at
Zim, slowly pulling the club from his belt.
Zim quickly turned and scrambled to get up, but Adam clubbed him in the back
and he fell back down. Zim closed his eyes tight and tensed, expecting another blow, but
nothing came. He sat up and turned to look for Adam, but he was no longer behind him.
"What?" Zim asked the silence, standing up and rubbing at his back. He'd have a
bruise there later. He looked around for the little man, but he couldn't find him
anywhere. Zim scratched his head nervously, and slowly started walking through the
forest, carefully observing the area.
Some leaves rustled in the trees above him, and he stopped in his tracks. He
looked around him for something he could use as a weapon and only found a skinny stick
that would probably break if he hit somebody with it.
Adam watched Zim with curiosity, sitting on a limb above the Irken's head. Adam
watched him closely, and decided that he would be an easy opponent. 'He's scared and
desperate,' Adam thought with vice, grinning when he saw Zim pick up the stick and
sigh. 'I'll get this over with quickly.'
Adam jumped from the limb towards Zim, but Zim saw him and quickly jumped
out of the way. Zim hurried off and broke into a run, but was clumsy and tripped over a
large rock. Adam struck him hard across the shoulder as he stumbled. Zim fell to the
ground hard and tried to force himself back up, but Adam struck him on the side of the
head, turning Zim so he faced upwards.
Adam quickly walked over to Zim and put his foot across his chest, keeping him
pinned to the ground. Zim struggled to get loose, but Adam raised his foot up high and
stomped on Zim's ribs.
Zim laid still, his vision beginning to blur. 'This isn't fair,' he thought sadly, clenching his
fists in frustration. Adam snickered and smiled down at him, pulling a dagger out of his
blue jacket. Zim's eyes grew wide and he gasped.
"This was too easy," Adam said, and he raised the dagger above his head and
aimed. Zim grabbed a wad of dirt and threw it up at Adam's face. The dirt went into his
eyes, blinding him temporarily. Adam yelled and dropped the dagger, rubbing at his face.
Zim kicked him off and darted into the forest.
-------------
11:37 a.m.
-------------
"Why hasn't anyone called yet?! It is nearly noon!" Dib exclaimed, throwing a
book at the wall. Tom flinched as it struck the wall, chipping it.
"Maybe they can't find him," Tom said slowly, and Dib glared at him.
"Can't find him?! I told them the exact location where we dumped him off. Sure,
the guards did remove the bullets from him and healed him a little, but how far could he
have possibly gone through the night?! He looked like he was about to faint when we left
him!" Dib cried, throwing another book at the wall.
"Sir, please control yourself, I'm sure they've killed him already but haven't been
able to contact you yet. They are in a forest after all, and perhaps their cell phones won't
work in certain areas," Tom pointed out, and Dib calmed down a little.
Dib walked over to his desk and sat down in his chair, propping his feet up on the
desk. He rubbed at the sides of his head and breathed deeply, something the psychologist
had taught him to do when he was younger.
"I hope you're right, Tom," Dib said, his voice softer and calmer. "I'm just
stressed. Sorry for freaking out. I'm sure 0001 is long dead now. You may leave now."
-------------
12:38 p.m.
-------------
Zim was laying in a shadowed area which made a good hiding spot. There was a
large stack of boulders behind him and a bunch of large trees casting their shadows on
him. There was a large bush in front of him that he could hide in if he felt threatened.
He felt sick, trembling and sweating all at once. A hunter had passed by his hiding
spot, and Zim had nearly fled from her, but she didn't see him and continued walking
without disturbing him. Zim was glad she hadn't seen him. She'd been carrying a long
whip with her and what looked like a rifle, and Zim could tell that she was a strong
runner.
'What am I going to do?' Zim thought for the thousandth time. Sooner or later the
hunters would find his hiding spot, and there was no way he could run from them forever.
He'd eventually wear himself out or make a clumsy mistake, and he'd be quickly
disposed of. Zim could picture his end in his mind very clearly, his eyes going blank and
his body falling limp to the ground. He shook his head, trying to get the vision out of his
mind.
"...he was a weakly feller, but he sure had some legs on him!"
Zim nearly cried out when he heard the fat man's voice. He clamped his mouth
shut with his hands to keep himself quiet and he froze in place. The fat man with the
white suit was talking on a cell phone, pacing around the area. Zim heard him coming
closer and shivered.
"Nope. No sir, I did not get him...I'm not sure if the others did yet, I doubt it. I
haven't seen him for a while, sir..," the fat man was saying, and there was yelling on the
other line. "I'm sorry, sir. Yes, sir. I'll try. Goodbye."
The fat man put his cell phone in his pocket, then pulled out a cigar and his
lighter. He lit it and inhaled deeply, then slowly let the smoke come out of his mouth and
nose.
"That scientist boy really rubs me the wrong way," he said, and he took a seat on a
large rock. Zim could see him from where he was lying. He twitched slightly with
anxiety, hoping the fat man couldn't see him. The fat man wiped the sweat from his
forehead and looked up at the sun. It was past noon now.
"Well, howdy, Thorton."
"Hrmph. Hello, Castro," the fat man said angrily. Zim bit his lower lip, panic
gripping him. There were now two hunters near him, and one of them he didn't know.
"So how goes the hunt, old man?" Castro said, his hands in the trench coat's front
pockets. He smiled at Thorton, who looked sweaty and frustrated.
"Same as yours," Thorton replied angrily. Castro gritted his teeth, angered by the
insult, but he shrugged it off.
"I happen to know exactly where the Irken is, Thorton. I'm just being a good
sportsman and letting everyone get a chance," Castro said. Zim's eyes grew wide and he
became tense. This new hunter had been watching him the entire time, and he hadn't even
sensed it. Zim let his antenna droop, feeling defeated.
"You're bluffing," Thorton said, chewing on the end of his cigar. Castro closed
his eyes and chuckled. He turned around and pointed down a narrow path with ivy all
around it.
"He's hiding down that path," Castro said, and Thorton quickly pulled his rope
out of his pocket and hurried down the path. Castro held back a laugh as the fat man left.
"Fool."
Zim relaxed, seeing Thorton leave and realizing Castro had no clue about his
location. He knew he would have to leave his hiding place soon, but he would stay there
until night fell or if a hunter came too close. He sighed and closed his eyes.
"Gotcha!"
Somebody with gloved hands grabbed Zim's arms and flung him out of his hiding
spot. Castro immediately pulled a pistol out his trench coat and aimed it at him. Before he
could fire, a man in a white lab coat grabbed Zim by the neck. He dragged Zim so he was
mostly laying down to the ground and put him in a headlock. He pulled a laser out of his
coat and put it under Zim's chin.
"Brain has overcome brawn once again!" the man said, laughing insanely. He had
an awfully large forehead with brown hair that look uncombed. He wore black goggles
and black gloves that shined in the sunlight. "Dib will praise me! Praise me I say! And
then he'll HAVE to let me work for him! Irvin shall succeed at last!"
Castro shot beside the scientist that was holding Zim down. Zim continued
struggling to get loose, but the scientist froze.
"Let go of the Irken, you psycho!" Castro yelled angrily, and he fired another shot
at the scientist.
"Gyaah! Knock it off, you punk! Irvin does not like to play rough! I certainly do
not!" the scientist said. Zim kicked at him to get loose, and the scientist hit him against
the side of the head.
Zim was feeling faint, and he had a bad headache. He'd been struck against his
head too many times, and his other bruises were paining him. He let himself go half limp
in the scientist's grip.
"M-yes! Irvin shall show all of you hunters a thing or two! You all said I couldn't
do it, you said I was weak, but look at Irvin now!" He laughed insanely. Castro glared at
him, then shot near his foot. Irvin screamed, then dug the tip of the laser deeper into
Zim's chin.
"The Irken is what you want, is it not, my lad? Aww...poor boy. Too bad. Irvin is
the winner of this particular hunt!" Irvin shouted with glee, but he was suddenly kicked
hard in the head and a rifle was fired. The bullet hit the ground just above where Irvin's
head landed. Zim was let loose, but a whip wrapped around his arm before he could go
anywhere.
"Darn, I missed," a woman said, and she pulled Zim towards her.
"Cleo, you big ole slut, you," Castro said, smiling.
"'ello, Castro my man. How's it been?" the woman said, blowing a kiss at Castro.
She was wearing tight white shorts that were very short and a tight black top with no
sleeves. She had dark skin and black hair that she kept in a long braid behind her
back. She looked over her sunglasses at Castro and winked.
"Things haven't been the same since you left," Castro said. He cleared his throat,
growing serious. "I'm sorry to say this, Cleo, but that's my Irken you got there." He raised
his pistol and aimed for Zim's head.
"Not so fast, sugar," Cleo replied, and she pointed her rifle up at Castro. Castro
glared at her. She smiled. "You really aren't a gentleman. Trying to steal a woman's
property. The nerve." She fired the rifle. Castro dove out the way, the bullet hitting his
foot.
"Bitch," Castro said, his voice strained.
"Always was, always will be," Cleo said, and she laughed. She aimed her rifle
back at Zim, but he was no longer there. He had untangled his arm from the whip while
she was distracted and hurried away.
-------------
1:35 p.m.
-------------
It was the afternoon when Dib got the phone call. He'd been pacing around his
desk ever since he'd talked to Thorton. He ran up to his desk and picked up the phone
with excitement when it finally rang.
"Did you get him?" Dib asked the caller.
"Uh...Dib, sir?" It was Castro. "There is a guy named Irvin here, and Cleo kicked
him real hard in the head. I think he needs medical attention."
"Did you get the Irken or not?" Dib asked impatiently.
"...No, sir."
Dib's excitement quickly turned to anger. "You guys STILL haven't killed subject
0001? Still?! YOU GUYS ARE PATHETIC!" he shouted into the phone. He slammed it
on his desk a couple of times. There was silence on the other end for a moment.
"Sir," Castro finally said, "Irvin needs medical attention, and so do I. Cleo shot
me in the foot with her rifle, and it didn't just nick me. My foot is bleeding badly right
now. I was hoping you could send some people down to help us."
Dib sighed heavily and didn't answer for a while. He took his glasses off and
rubbed at his forehead. "I'll have some people down there in a minute, Castro. You're
phone call will be traced, so just stay there. Irvin will be disqualified, and you will receive
a penalty."
"Penalty?!" Castro said, outraged. "Cleo was the one who-"
"Goodbye," Dib said, and he hung up the phone.
-------------
That was very long. I hope you got through it all without too much boredom. Dib needs Zoloft. Heh. Yeah. I think the next chappy should be up April 9. Hopefully I'll get it up on time. O.o
-Crystal