Chapter Twenty-Three: Zombie Ninja Turtle

Day Six

Saturday, early morning

"Duck, Donatello!"

Instinct obeyed his sensei, and Don dropped to the floor and then rolled. He heard katanas clash against something, and he popped up a short distance away to see Master Splinter twist his walking stick away from Leo's katanas.

"Sensei!" Relief and joy mixed with worry as Master Splinter blocked a vicious swing. He must've seen my note. He has amazing timing.

Splinter's ears twitched toward him, but his eyes remained locked on his oldest son. "Donatello, I will distract Leonardo. You will get the collar off his neck."

Don nodded. Right, technology. I can do that. He sheathed his bo and fumbled at his belt with clumsy fingers for tools that might be helpful. He found his ever-present multitool and a tanto.

Thankfully, Leo's mindless body paid Don no heed as he slipped around behind him and up to the back of his neck. Master Splinter kept Leo's movements as small as possible as Don examined the collar. Don tried to find the joint and failed. Then, moving to a smaller goal, he managed to pry off a section of outer casing on the back left of the collar; this revealed some powerful electronics within.

Looks like this thing is a… shock collar? Not like Mikey's, though. This thing is powerful. Oh, I know what it is—it's a taser, in collar form. You are a horrible person, Gamer. But Leo's muscles certainly aren't seized up right now. What's making him a zombie ninja?

With effort that resulted in a nick to Leo's neck when he ducked low to swing his katanas at Master Splinter's feet—Master Splinter had had to immediately attempt to punch Leo's face to keep him from turning on Don—Don pried off another piece of casing, this one right in the middle. When he figured out what was jammed into the small space, anger flashed through him. This gave him the energy and speed necessary to snip through the arms holding the needle in place. Then—

"Sensei, I need him to be still!"

Master Splinter made eye contact past Leo with his third son for one heartbeat. Then he zipped forward, under Leo's guard, and jabbed Leo with two pointed fingers right in the side of his neck.

With a choke, Leo stood stunned for four seconds—

Which was exactly how long Don needed to pull the needle embedded between his brother's vertebrae straight out.

Leo gasped, recovering from the jab to his pressure point, and raised his katanas again. Then he looked at them and lowered them. Master Splinter, watching closely, saw confusion entering his son's eyes.

Meanwhile, Don's fingers flew, snipping joints inside the now-empty part of the collar casing, and, when he thought he had weakened the collar enough, he placed two fingers on the left and two on the right and pulled.

With a loud pop, the collar broke; the two pieces fell down Leo's plastron, and he automatically caught them with his right hand, katana twisted to point down along his forearm. He looked down.

Hope and fear jostling for supremacy within him, Don slipped out and along beside his brother on his right, still ready to dodge and bring out his bo again. He was vaguely aware of his body's deep, relentless fatigue. His right hand clutched the forgotten multitool.

Leo looked up from the collar. "Sensei?"

Master Splinter stood, hands calmly clasped on his walking stick as if he had been out for a midnight stroll rather than fighting his berserk son a moment ago.

Leo's eyes flicked right. "Don?" His eyes traveled down, clearly reading his brother's body language: defensive, fearful, relieved, exhausted.

"Leo? Are you back with us?" Has whatever powerful drug that was in that needle worn off yet?

Leo suddenly realized what he was holding. Both his katanas and the broken collar clattered to the floor as he backed up. "Did I— Was I attacking— I'm so sorry!"

Don dropped his defensive posture and came to do something that rarely needed doing: he gave Leo a hug.

Leo, close to tears, threw his arms around Don. "I'm so sorry, Don. The Gamer— he doesn't play fair. I couldn't fight the needle; I tried…"

Don rubbed his shell. "It's okay, Leo. It wasn't you; it was him. It wasn't you fighting us, it was the Gamer. He-"

"Fun fact," interrupted the Gamer himself over an overhead speaker; both turtles twisted to glare at it while their sensei narrowed his eyes. "It actually was me. That highly complex drug allowed me to bypass his consciousness and control his body and his highly trained instincts directly. You'd be super jealous of my controller, Opponent. I've been designing it for years. It's like an xbox controller mixed with the best features of a mouse-and-keyboard setup… but anyway, you broke my control over him. You won." He had interrupted his own excited ramble, and now sounded a bit disappointed. "That was all very entertaining watching. I'm planning on designing a beat-'em-up character after you, Opponent. By the way, I don't remember giving permission for you to bring in a second player, but hey, I can't deny you were toast without him. But then you had to ruin it and get all soppy. You'd better go now—before the levels respawn."

A loud click signaled the end of communication from the Gamer for the night.

Don's stomach dropped at the idea of fighting through all those rounds again. Even with Master Splinter and Leo, he wasn't positive they could make it.

"Whoa, Don, are you okay?" Leo, still in his personal space from when the Gamer had interrupted their hug, turned his brother's face down toward him. "You're pale. And shaking. And you just fought an entire skyscraper full of Foot." He planted a hand on his shoulder. "You're gonna collapse if we don't get you back to the Lair soon."

Am I? Collapsing sounds kinda nice, actually. I hope I don't have to move again for a week. Except, y'know, Raph and Casey are still missing.

"Stay here for a second, okay?" Leo ordered, his eyes firm. "Don't pass out just yet."

I love how two minutes ago Leo was a prisoner wearing a taser collar and being made into a zombie, and now he's ordering me around again. If it was me, I would still be crying my eyes out, probably. Or punching the Gamer. Or hiding.

Leo moved away and bent to gather and sheathe his katanas, while Don willed his knees to stop wobbling. They didn't listen.

Leo pointed at the collar, his lip curled in hatred. "Do you want that?"

Don shook his head and ignored slight dizziness. "No. But I'll take the needle with the 'highly complex' drug to study later."

Master Splinter produced a cloth to wrap it in and slipped it in his pocket. Meanwhile, Leo picked up Don's tanto, plucked the forgotten multitool out of Don's hand and stashed it in his own belt. Then he lifted Don's arm and ducked under it. He straightened, taking some of his brother's weight.

"Leo. You don't need to do that. I'm fine. I can still walk," Don protested, but Leo shushed him.

"If your legs don't give out when we get to the stairs, you can walk on your own."

"My sons, we must hurry." Master's Splinter's face was mild, but his eyes sparked with concern.

"Yes, Sensei."

The trio rushed out the exit and down the stairs. Apparently, more Foot—perhaps some Don had defeated but not hurt too badly—had been busy while Don had fought the two boss levels, because the false walls had been removed, leaving this stairwell clear. Oh, good. That's one good thing at least. We don't have to zigzag through all those rooms again. Don stumbled a few times as they rushed down, but didn't fall, and besides, even stumbling down the stairs a bit was faster than being helped down by an overprotective older brother. Even so, Don's legs jiggled like jelly by the time they reached the ground floor.

Senses alert for ambushes, they moved back through the first floor of now-empty rounds without incident. To Don, it felt like a dream. His legs moved forward on their own. At some point, his vision had narrowed a bit.

Then, after Leo checked for Foot outside, they slipped out the door. I can't believe the Gamer let us leave. I've rescued the last of those under his direct control, Don thought slowly, but in a moment, they were in an alley and then down a manhole.

Don slid down the ladder, and at the bottom, his muscles gave up; he crumpled into a heap. He stared dumbly up as Leo, worriedly calling his name, climbed down after him and neatly stepped down around him. Master Splinter looked back from his spot several steps ahead, waiting.

Leo pulled him upright and had to support him for a moment before his feet could. He flashed a look at Master Splinter. "How much sleep has he gotten? Has he been going nuts? Has he already rescued the others?"

"Not enough sleep, I am afraid. He was very concerned this morning, but…" Master Splinter's words lost their power to penetrate the fog that now clouded Don's brain.

"Leo, is it really you?" Don lifted his hand and touched the blue mask on the side of the other turtle's head. "Did I finally rescue you?"

A lecture died on the tip of Leo's tongue. "Yes, Donnie, it's really me," he said softly. "You did it. You rescued me. And Master Splinter. Now it's time for sleep."

Sleep. That sounds nice. He yawned.

Something moved on Don's shell, and he frowned. "My bo." He reached in its general direction.

"It's okay," Leo's voice came. "I'll carry it so it doesn't fall off your shell."

Don's brain whirred, trying to decipher this reasoning, but another yawn derailed his train of thought. Why am I so tired? Oh, right. "I fought a lot of Foot," he mumbled.

"Yes, you certainly did," Leo said, and grunted. "I lost count somewhere around the two hundred mark."

The world shifted slightly, but when Don opened his eyes—when had he closed them?—he just saw familiar gray pipes and brickwork going by. Things swayed, but in an even, lulling fashion, and he yawned again. "Saja hasn't brought Raph back yet," he mumbled after a moment. "And that knucklehead Casey hasn't figured out how to come home yet."

Silence, except for rhythmic stepping and slightly heavy breathing, reigned for a moment, long enough that Don had nearly fallen asleep when Leo grunted, "Saja will bring Raph back tomorrow. And Casey will show up tomorrow too."

Don thought about this, finally mumbled, "Okay," and remembered nothing else.