A/N1 Back, finally, to my comic-booky, pulpy-fictional little story. Prepare yourself. Lots of scene-cuts, lots of players, lots of machinery in motion. Fast and furious, yes, but, blissfully, Vin Diesel-free. You may want to take a deep breath before you plunge into this one. It's a long short chapter. Details matter. Think of it as a bit of a graphic novel, sans the graphics.
Two more chapters to go, or maybe three to go, depending on how I divide the remaining story.
Thanks for the reviews and for the PMs.
Don't own Chuck.
Too Old For This
CHAPTER NINE
Spy-dery
Sarah was using the one small pair of night vision binoculars they had, spying on the encampment through them. Darkness had gathered but hadn't thickened yet. The tenor of daytime insect hiss, though, had given way a baritone of nighttime hum.
Casey had finished creating a spot in the vegetation where Rider could stay, and stay reasonably safely, until they had gotten into and out of the camp. Their hope was to sneak in, steal Chuck and any first-aid supplies they could find, and then to get away. Hoping to move through the jungle at night with a sick boy and his who-knew-what-condition father was probably vain, but they would move too slowly to wait for daylight. To wait would be to be captured.
And a firefight was a crazy idea. Rider was in the bushes. They were not completely sure where Chuck was, but they hoped he was in the central building, the stone structure. If he is here. Please let him be here and be ok!
The plan was simple; it had to be. Casey would work his way to the other side of the encampment and draw attention. Once he had done so, Sarah would ghost into the camp and find Chuck and medicine, if possible.
Rider was not deathly ill, but he was sick enough for Sarah to be afraid for him. And he would likely grow sicker each hour. If she could find some medication, her hope was that it would relieve his symptoms and make him capable of the nighttime march they were facing.
Sarah had a tranq gun and her knives. That was all she was taking in. She needed Casey to create a ruckus if she was going to have a chance. But Casey was just the man for the job, she knew. She could get the job done too. They were getting too old for this, but they weren't that old by any means.
Sarah peered through the binoculars again, the night vision making the camp appear an unearthly green-on-green. No one was moving that she could see, except for one man doing a desultory job of standing guard. He was more absorbed by his cigarette than anything else. The humidity had evidently affected it and he had to keep re-lighting it; it would not burn on its own. That made him easy to locate, but hard to observe with the binoculars, because the flame of his lighter flashed brightly as the sun in Sarah's eyes.
"All right, Bartowski, it's about time." Casey's gruff whisper sounded almost like a shout and Sarah winced, even though she knew only she could hear him. She nodded. There was a pause as each gathered himself or herself for what was about to begin, and in the pause, there was a noise, a light-but-noticeable rustling in the vegetation around them.
Sarah put the binoculars down only to notice a shadowy shape crawling by her on the ground. A spider! Then she saw another, and another; they were all around her. She did not move, the memory of them in her hair gripping her. But the crawling arachnid stream parted around her, she finally realized, and around Casey and Rider.
But the spiders were on the move. Sarah has a sudden, icy intuition, even in the heated jungle, Chuck!, and she shuddered, pushing the thought from her mind. And then, in a few seconds, the spiders' trooping around them ended. But she could still see the spiders on the move, spreading out across the ground and headed to the encampment.
Casey turned to her, his eyes big, shining, even in the dark. "Shit, Walker, are those the things that came creeping for you in Montana?" Sarah nodded in response to Casey's incredulous whisper. "Shit. Can anyone herd spiders? That was a crawling stampede! Shit."
Sarah's thought again shifted to Chuck. Chuck. She knew her husband. When the weirdness started, in the Buymore, in Montana, in...wherever...it almost always led to Chuck. He was a weirdness magnet, the eye of the weirdness hurricane. Spider magnet? Spider eye?
Sarah shook the thought from her head. It wasn't possible. "We need to start now, Casey, those things will be in camp soon." Casey nodded and vanished at almost the same time. Sarah checked Rider again. He had heard the plan and then fallen into a feverish sleep. Sarah made sure there were no spiders near him. She kissed his damp forehead and whispered. "Rider, I will get you out of this. I will come back for you. No matter what. I love you." She moved to overtake the spiders. She needed to get to camp before they did. She needed Casey to hurry.
ooOoo
Chuck knew they were coming. Coming in force. But it would take time for them to assemble and to cross the distance.
Wheelwright came slinking in, crouched over, sneaking. A jungle Smeagol. "Chuuu-uuck! Chuuu-uuck! Time to end the lovely Ms. Cunnings." A whispery sing-song. Chuck stayed still. Wheelwright opened the plastic and then undid the lock on the cage, opened the door. Chuck hurtled himself at Wheelwright.
At the motion, Wheelwright gasped. "That's not possible!" Chuck stood and swung an upper-cut at Wheelwright simultaneously. The punch connected just as Wheelwright finished 'possible'. Wheelwright's head snapped back. He took a couple of steps backward and then slumped to the ground.
Chuck knelt by Wheelwright's unconscious form. He wanted to speak, to apologize, but although he could focus his actions, he found himself unable to speak. His mind was full of chanting murmurs, spider hum.
He found what he hoped in one of Wheelwright's safari jacket pockets. A small flashlight. Chuck clicked it on and then rummaged in the stack of files beside the two laptops. He found three labeled 'Orion' and he pushed them inside his shirt, partly down the back of his pants, since he had no other way to carry them and needed his hands free.
The murmurs in his head multiplied. The spiders were near and getting still nearer. He felt strange, the feeling itself intensifying as the murmurs multiplied. His skin was crawling. He felt like he had more than two eyes. A lot more. So many more eyes to see with. So much more, so much new, to see...
ooOoo
Casey muttered internally about spiders as he made his way silently around the encampment. Only the Bartowskis! Afghani warlords, corrupt Russian oligarchs-those were the villains Casey expected, the sort he expected, welcomed even. Not this, not this Halloween madness, not spiders on the fucking march.
He needed to get the Bartowskis home and then he needed to spend a few weeks somewhere without insects, like one of the Poles. North or South: he really didn't care. Green for white; that'd be a good trade. But even as he grumbled, a part of him felt lucky, lucky to be part of the crazy family that had caused him to be in the jungle, surrounded by bad guys and spiders. It really was getting to be time to think about retirement, though.
He set one explosive and then another. They explosions wouldn't be big (not as big as Casey liked, anyway), but at night, in the jungle, they'd be big enough.
ooOoo
Sarah was waiting anxiously. The glowing hands of her watch told her it would be soon. She had her tranq gun in one hand, a throwing knife in the other. She'd go on the first explosion. She needed to get her family out of this wretched jungle. Then she needed to talk to her husband.
ooOoo
Cunnings looked at her watch. The modified Blackhawk, modified for stealth, would be overhead soon. Everyone would hear it then, but it would be too late. Her men would be down, on the ground in seconds once they were above the opening in the jungle canopy. She'd paid for the best. If all went according to plan, they'd be gone with Chuck in a few minutes more. She'd leave Wheelwright corpse, and the corpses of his men, to rot in the damn jungle. When she got Chuck to her base, then she could...play with him.
ooOoo
Rider woke up panicked. Then he realized where he was. He was supposed to wait. Wait. He stood up unsteadily. No one was around. He felt light-headed and nauseated. He stood for a minute, getting his balance and his bearings. Dad. Mom. Dad! Mom! He started moving, weaving really, toward the encampment.
ooOoo
Chuck stepped out of the stone building he'd been caged in. Nothing was stirring. Well, nothing except for the spiders. He knew, he just knew in his gut, that they were on the edge of the camp. He was marching with them, he was among them and he was their destination all at once.
Then, a stirring. He heard a noise and he crouched down. He saw Cunnings. She was headed straight toward him but she had not seen him. He worked his way around the building. If it worked, he could circle the building and then come up behind her. He was about halfway around the building when he heard the sound, like a giant beater, moving and compressing air. He looked up, and in the darkness, he thought he could see an opening, and in it, a helicopter. Men were jumping from it, coming down ropes that dangled from beneath it. Damn, damn.
And then there was an explosion. Small arms fire. Above him, he heard another sound. A second helicopter? The sky was suddenly ablaze with fire, tracers. The first helicopter's guns were firing. A second explosion. He stood up and started running around the building. Cunnings was near the door of the building but she was now looking up into the sky. Chuck tackled her to the ground. He hit her with so much speed that they rolled over several times before they came to a stop. She was on her feet again immediately, her gun in her hand.
"I should have known not to underestimate you, Chuck, and not to overestimate Wheelwright. Now," she waved the gun toward the edge of the camp, "you come with me. We'll be out of here soon." Chuck stood, dusting himself off. Murmurs stuffed his head. The edge of the camp was fine with him. The spiders were there, waiting.
Cunnings realized that something unexpected was going on above her. As they moved quickly out toward the edge of camp, she glanced up and frowned. "A new team in the mix…?" Chuck felt and heard boots hit the jungle floor and then he and then gunfire started on the ground. Evidently, Wheelwright's men were firing on Cunnings' men.
ooOoo
Rider heard the gunfire. In his feverish state, everything seemed to blend together. He started to run toward the central building. He had to save his dad, his mom. Ignoring everything else, he steered by the building, aiming for it. Somehow, he made it into the camp and to the door of the building. He ran inside.
ooOoo
Sarah thought she heard something behind her, but she couldn't stop to look. She saw Cunnings leading Chuck toward the edge of the camp. She had to get to him. He was up and walking at least, but his gait seemed odd, angular. She veered away from the central building. Above and around her, men were coming into camp, down the ropes from the helicopter. Two were between her and Chuck. She fired her tranq gun, hitting first one man and then another. The nearest threats dealt with, she lengthened her stride.
She had to get to Chuck.
ooOoo
Inside the central building, Rider saw an empty cage and an older man on the ground. Two laptops were open on the table. One had pictures of spiders on the screen. The other looked...different. Intriguing. Drawn to it, Rider stopped and looked at the screen. Without thinking, he reached out and hit enter. There was a spray of images. He thought he saw his dad's face on the screen. He heard the old man on the ground shout, "No!" and then Rider gaped as the images entered his mind, pulling him toward them, filling his consciousness, amalgamating him to them, themselves to him.
ooOoo
Above the camp, the guns of the two helicopters blazed away. The first was hit, seriously damaged. Its engine began to sputter and it abandoned the opening in the canopy, limping away. It exploded in midair. Fiery debris rained down into the jungle, but at a distance from the encampment. Another helicopter took its place, and a new group of darkly clad figures began to come to come down ropes hanging from beneath it. Cunnings stopped and stared upward She never saw the spiders coming, pooling hairily at her feet. Chuck stopped and looked at her, gazed at Cunnings, with a his new octonocular awareness.
ooOoo
Sarah saw Cunnings staring skyward, Chuck staring strangely at her. One of the men on the ground raised his rifle, pointing it at Chuck. Sarah fired the tranq gun. Or, she pulled the trigger. Misfire. She threw her knife with her left hand. Her aim was not quite true, but it was true enough. The knife lodged in the man's thigh and his shot went wide of its mark. Sarah saw another man aiming at Chuck. She was close enough to go airborne. She hit Chuck in the side and they both crashed to the ground as the man's rifle fired.
Sarah landed and rolled to her feet. She heard a scream, pure terror, unearthly. Involuntarily, she wheeled around. Cunnings was blighted by spiders.
Sarah froze for a second, unable to process the sight. Cunnings was trying to bat spiders out of her hair with hands and arms. But her hands and arms were covered in spiders too.
Another shot against the backdrop of small arms fire in the camp. Chuck! No!
ooOoo
Chuck could feel the spiders; he was the spiders. They, they all were altered. Revoltium. It had maddened them, alienating them from their instincts, torturing them in a way they could not understand but could only suffer. The alterations had made their minds somehow available to his altered, Intersected mind, the Revoltium a conduit from their consciousness to his own and vice versa.
They had spotted Cunnings and they acted on Chuck's involuntary fear and revulsion. They were on her in seconds. They were going to kill her. But Chuck countermanded their desire; they attacked her, covered her, but only a few bit her. He controlled the others. But he saw her, he saw everything now, through the spiders' eyes. Everything times eight: the world a vast octaplex.
Suddenly he was on the ground. Another blonde. Another human woman. Shots. Cunnings slumped beneath her payload of spiders. And then Chuck felt the spiders turn their collective attention to the central building. They were now acting on their desires, not his, but his memory was available to them. Their tormenter, his tormenter, was there. Wheelwright. They would kill him. Wheelwright. The name one concerted murmur. They scurried toward their prey. Chuck tried to stop them but they would not respond. And then the connection, the conduit, between him and them...snapped.
ooOoo
Sarah turned just as the man fell, and just in time to see Casey as he lowered his gun. He was running toward her, but staring at Cunnings still covered in spiders on the ground. The spiders began to disperse, moving as a reformed unit toward the central building.
"Get Chuck, Sarah! Rider's in that building. He ran into camp behind you!"
Sarah froze again, stuck for an eternal second between her son and her husband. But she trusted Casey; he was closer to the building, closer to Rider. She ran to Chuck.
He was on the ground, staring up as if he were watching the new arrivals from the new helicopter. But his eyes were unfocused, as if his true object of vision were something else, someone else, somewhere else.
"Chuck, Chuck, honey, it's me, it's Sarah!" His face went slack and his eyes closed. He lost consciousness. "Chuck!"
Then Sarah heard a voice from behind her, a...familiar voice. "Sarah? Sarah, is that you? Is that...Chuck?"
Sarah turned. She was surrounded by weapons.
ooOoo
Casey burst into the central building. He was too late for Wheelwright. Wheelwright was smothered in spiders, screaming. Rider was untouched. But he was standing stock-still, fixated on a computer screen.
"C'mon, kid, I know the apple falls near the tree, but no time for video games."
Rider turned to Casey. He was sweaty. He looked absorbed, entranced. And then he returned to himself. "Casey?...Where's dad? Where's mom?"
Casey didn't answer. He grabbed Rider, picked him up and put him over his shoulder. Then, Casey stopped. A thought crossed his mind. He slammed the laptop shut and took it with him.
When he got outside, he found armed men surrounding Sarah. She was kneeling beside Chuck, who was evidently unconscious. One of the group stepped forward, doffed his cap, spoke. Casey looked at him, no, her, again, missing the words. Her long hair fell dark from beneath the cap, her face lit up by flames from nearby debris.
Casey gasped. Then he growled: "Chuck me...Another goddamned Bartowski." He stooped and let Rider off his shoulder, steadying the boy with his free hand. Rider peered at the woman's flame-lit face, marveling.
"Grandma Frost?"
A/N2 Poor Casey. It's raining Bartowskis. And, uh-oh, Rider. Tune in next time for Chapter 10, "Family Curse". Free bug spray for anyone who leaves a review. Not really: but I will respond.
