Over a hundred followers! I'm screaming! (But only in my head.)
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Chapter 16: Fruit of Your Labor
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Danny began to shiver and mumble in his sleep. Sam put her arm around his shoulders and rubbed his arm. He let out a soft, shuddering, sigh, and relaxed again. He began to purr, a little. Thankfully quietly enough that only Sam could hear him. She didn't want to have to explain how Danny could make that kind of sound.
"You aren't going to wake him up?"
"You're not waking Mikey up," observed Sam. She glanced at Valerie who was eating an apple with the air of someone with a gun pointed at their head. "You two should probably get some sleep, too. I'll keep watch."
"What about you?" asked Ricky.
"I'm used to late nights. It's mornings I have trouble with."
"If you're sure. I'd better not wake up being eaten by some kind of monster ghost, though."
Ricky did eventually find a spot to lie down in. Valerie, annoyingly, did not. Sam finished her current apple, and tossed the core into the bushes.
Danny shivered into her side again. "... like the flowers," he muttered. "Sleep now. Mm." He quieted again.
"Sam," said Valerie, suddenly.
"What?" said Sam.
"Is this-" She licked her lips, staring at Danny. "You hang out with the Fentons a lot. What are the side effects of being possessed? Is this... Normal?"
Sam thought about her answer for a second. "You mean the sleeping? Yeah, that can be normal. Side effects really vary a lot depending on the ghost, what the ghost did, what kind of possession it was, etcetera, etcetera." Sam waved her free hand. "Considering that this ghost apparently had Danny running all over the place, yeah, being exhausted is normal. Of course, he's not the only one sleeping." She nodded at Mikey and Ricky.
"Yeah, but he's been sleeping longer."
"I guess. There's just something weird about this whole thing."
"What do you mean?" asked Sam, uneasily.
"I don't know."
"Maybe if you sleep on it."
"I can't sleep here."
"Whatever," said Sam.
"Oh my gosh!" They both turned to look at Mikey, who was now sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Why do I feel like I slept on the ground?"
"Because you did?" said Sam.
"What?" Mikey groped on the ground near him for his glasses, until Valerie had pity on him, picked them up, and put them on his face. Mikey adjusted them slightly, so that they were straight, and then groaned. "I was hoping this was a dream."
"Yeah, that would have been nice, huh? The apples don't seem to be poisonous, by the way."
"Thank god. I'm starving." Mikey then began the task of picking apples. This was a bit more difficult for him, due to the fact that all of the easy to reach ones had already been eaten, and that he was a good deal shorter than Ricky and Valerie. Eventually, however, he was able to pick several, and began to eat them enthusiastically.
Shortly after this, Danny began to stir again. Instead of falling back to sleep, however, he opened his eyes, and blinked blearily up at Sam. He blinked again, and then rubbed his eyes. "Apples are okay, then?"
"Yeah, they're fine."
"Mhm. I'm sorry for laying on you."
"It's fine."
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Jack had been devastated when he had discovered that all of his weapons had been stolen. The weapons represented hours and hours of work. Months of research, at a minimum. Sweat, blood, and, in a few cases, tears.
That wasn't all that upset him, of course. He knew that without the weapons, he, and all the children now under his care, were vulnerable. Even with the blaster that one girl- What was her name? Valerie?- had given him, he knew that he wouldn't be a match for any but the weakest of ghosts. Not that he was going to say that, no. He had to keep morale up. Reassure the kids that he could protect them!
Tucker didn't seem to be buying it, though. Of course he wouldn't. Tucker knew him too well, knew too much about ghosts, to be fooled. Ah, well. You couldn't fool everybody.
But despite everything, Jack was excited. He was in the Ghost Zone! Finally! This is what he had dreamed of.
Then, too, he wasn't completely helpless. His weapons might have been stolen, but he'd had more things in his pockets than weapons, and, well, this wouldn't be the first time he had to MacGyver something up! A lot of what he had could be converted into simple blasters with a bit of ingenuity. It wouldn't be easy, but then, what was?
He'd had Tucker helping him at first, but, man! That kid was even clumsier than he was! So the geek was now just standing by, watching him nervously.
Okay, maybe he had gotten a little off track. He wasn't making blasters any more. But, hey, when else would he be able to test his theories? Well, his and Maddie's theories. And this could help them escape!
Wow, when Maddie got back, she'd be so pleased. Well, assuming that this didn't blow up in his face. Some of his inventions had a tendency of doing just that. Also assuming that it worked.
But if it did? Wow! It would be great!
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The sudden, fiery light took Dash and Kwan by surprise. So they did what they had the last time they had been taken by surprise. They booked it.
Unfortunately for them, the lights, or more precisely, the flowers that shed the light, weren't something that they could outrun. In fact, the red-orange light kept suddenly showing up in front of them.
(It was a good thing that they had never been caught in a real forest fire, and that they weren't being chased by anything that wanted to hurt them. They would have surely died.)
Kwan and Dash were both very fit young men. But the last several hours had taken their toll. They simply couldn't keep up their furious, adrenaline-fueled pace. They had to stop. Only then did they realize that the flowers were just that- flowers. Glowing, ghostly flowers, but still. Flowers.
"What's up with the freaky flowers?" asked Dash.
"I don't know, man," said Kwan.
"I hate this place," said Dash. "It's freaky. Like Manson. Or Freaktonio."
"Who?"
"You know. Freaky Fenton."
"Oh. Right."
"You don't think they're gonna, like, eat us, or anything?"
"How'm I s'posed to know?"
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The lights Jazz saw could not be seen at ground level. Jazz was, therefore, able to tell her mother and Mr Lancer that she had seen glimpses of Dash and Kwan. Not in so many words, of course. She had said something more along the lines of seeing movement in the trees, and then glimpses of white, red, and blue, the colors of the Letterman jackets Dash and Kwan wore all the time. Mr Lancer and Maddie drew their own conclusions.
Jazz kept going up into the trees every few dozen feet. The words carved on them had devolved back into unfocused rambling and the occasional pearl of wisdom. Jazz made sure to respond quietly to each one. Especially the more depressed ones. She could do a lot of good, if she could ameliorate those kinds of thoughts.
After a while, though, they started to get close enough to detect the warm glow of the flowers even at ground level. Jazz had told Mr Lancer and Maddie about the lights just before that point, trying to make it seem as if they had just shown up without warning... Which they had, just, almost an hour ago. It wasn't quite a lie, but it was still a deception.
At that point, Mr Lancer and Maddie had an argument. Maddie thought it best to turn back. She believed that they were walking into a ghost's trap. Mr Lancer, on the other hand, really wanted to find his students, any of his students.
Once the argument had gone on for about twice as long as Jazz thought it should, she decided to cut the knot, and just go. After announcing her decision loudly, of course.
Jazz wasn't quite as fast as Maddie, but she had a head start, and the trees, underbrush, roots, and even the ground itself seemed to help Jazz stay ahead. Heh. Seemed.
Jazz knew better.
Still, Maddie was right behind her when she practically tripped over Dash. Who was... lying on the ground for some reason?
Dash stared at the three of them, Jazz, Maddie, and Mr Lancer, for a solid thirty seconds before leaping to his feet. "Mr Lancer!" he exclaimed. "I didn't think that I'd ever be glad to see you!"
Jazz saw Mr Lancer's eyelid twitch, but he smiled and said, "I'm glad to see you as well, Mr Baxter. Are you alone, or-?"
"Huh? No, duh, I'm with Kwan." He looked around. "Kwan?"
A head poked out from around the trunk of a tree. "S-sorry, man, I just had to, um." Kwan stared wide eyed at Jazz and Maddie. "Um. You know."
"Danny's not with you?" asked Maddie, still a little hopeful.
"Why'd Fenton be with us?"
"We thought he was with you."
"Yeah. And what happened to those two nerds?"
"And Valerie and Manson?"
"We're not entirely sure," admitted Mr Lancer.
"We need to get out of here now," said Maddie. "This place isn't safe."
The flowers abruptly closed and stopped glowing.
"Yes," agreed Mr Lancer, "let's."
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Tucker watched Jack assemble... He didn't know what Jack was trying to make, actually, but it gave him a very bad feeling. It reminded him of the Fenton Ghost Catcher. It was round, and flat, and tied together with glowing green string. It also, and more ominously, reminded him of some of the occult stuff he, Danny, and Sam had looked into both after the Accident, and after the blood-blossom incident.
The ones that they tried either didn't work on Danny, or didn't work very well on Danny. But that was just it. The ones they tried. They didn't try any of the more dangerous rituals or anything that was supposed to hurt, banish, or do anything permanent to the ghost or spirit they were aimed at. That would be like testing whether or not someone was immune to bullets by shooting them in the face. If they weren't immune, they'd be dead.
This thing that Jack was making, this reminded Tucker of those things, those rituals. Tucker had been trying to sabotage the thing, but Jack wasn't completely hopeless when it came to observational skills. Just mostly hopeless. Tucker was honestly hoping that the ground would eat the thing, like Jazz said it had with the Fentons' other ghost weapons.
Unfortunately, the ground seemed to be shy. Which was just like Danny, come to think of it.
He wished that he was doing something useful, instead of just sitting here.
The group as a whole had moved away from the treeline. They thought that the woods were too creepy. Tucker didn't really get it. Surely they saw creepier things back home on a regular basis? The way the too-bright moon hung, unmoving, overhead was eerie, sure, but compared to stuff that showed up in Amity, it was pretty tame. It hadn't turned into a gaping maw full of teeth or anything.
(That had never quite happened in Amity Park, but there had been a ghost that made everyone think that there were two suns, once. Good times.)
Tucker was gazing forlornly at the treeline when he began to see lights flicker between the branches. He glanced back at his classmates. Most of them were asleep, or watching Jack. Tucker edged closer to the trees, and, when no one stopped him, simply walked over to them.
"Hello?" he called, softly. Then he squeaked, loudly, as a ghost, a pink-tinted will'o-the-wisp, materialized in front of him. It began to play music at him. It sounded something like Wagner, but Tucker wasn't a classical music expert. He raised his hands and made a 'slow down' motion. The wisp stopped, but hovered expectantly.
Tucker fumbled in his pocket for his PDA, sparing a glance back at the group. They hadn't noticed anything, it seemed. Good. He pulled out his PDA and turned it on.
Between the Ghost Gabber and Danny's help, Tucker had managed to make a translation program for the wisps' language. It was far from perfect, but it was usually better than charades.
Tucker typed in the words 'Can you say that again?' and the PDA played a series of notes.
The ghost sang something back, flashing, cycling to orange, then red, and finally a deep violet, and Tucker hit the translation button. "Circle," said the cool, feminine voice of the program, "bad danger for lord. You are friend."
Tucker made a face. The program didn't account for changes in brightness or color. Yet. He was working on that. 'Repeat that, but more simply.'
The wisp buzzed in frustration, but complied. "That which is large orange flesh drawing. Is danger for lord question. You are friend question."
'I am Danny's friend, if that's what you mean. I don't know if it's dangerous,' typed Tucker. He hoped that translated properly.
"Lord which is spirit of place which shelters. Lord which wears also flesh. Speaking box flesh know of circle purpose question. Speaking box flesh should destroy if friend is emphasis."
It took Tucker a while to process that. He didn't know if he should be offended that he was being called 'speaking box flesh.' Or if he should feel threatened by that last sentence. He decided not to be. The program definitely needed work, but he was beginning to suspect that the wisps here and the wisps in Amity Park spoke different dialects.
"Do you know what it's supposed to do?" asked Tucker out loud.
The wisp floated there for a moment, before letting out a trill that the program translated as "Question" and Tucker realized that he needed to type in his own question.
"Know not," translated the program finally. "Yet we see like in past. Of chalk and salt and blood. Cruel things. The red thief. The stealing of shadows. Violations."
Well, that didn't bode well. 'I will try to distract him,' typed Tucker. 'You go find Danny, and as many of your friend as possible. If I can't distract him until you or Danny gets back, then I will break it. Okay?'
The wisp trilled. "Acceptable," said the program.
