Chapter 5

Pirate hunting

Upon the next morning, the dawn was bright, burning away the night mist. And while birds whistled and monkeys chattered to greet the new day, Kit Cloudkicker and Don Karnage snored. Kit had never taken his turn as lookout, and Karnage had spend a grand total of fifteen minutes keeping watch before nodding off.

Their two blankets, formerly one wrapped snugly around each, had somehow, during the chilliest moments of the night, both become property of Karnage, and now rested loosely on top of him; Kit was sprawled out over Karnage's shins, which were poking out of the covers.

Two tiny yellow butterflies fluttered around Karnage's right ear, but lost interest when they realized they had not discovered a new, strange flower.

But the butterflies were not the only things to take interest in the outsiders. From out of the surrounding bushes, a snake-like vine slowly slithered along the ground and approached the two. It recoiled, as if in surprised discovery, as it touched Karnage's hand. Then, continuing its examination of the odd creature it just found, it slid across the wolf's chest, then down to Kit, skimming the boy's face. Kit scratched his nose and continued to snore softly.

Then, the tip of the vine circled twice around Karnage's ankle, and tightened. Karnage's eyes flew open. "What? Boy, what are you doing?"

"Wha'?" Waking abruptly, Kit pushed himself away from Karnage. "What's goin' on?"

"What is that on my ― heeeeey!" The vine tugged hard, and Karnage clung with white knuckles to the tree he had been resting on.

Kit's eyes widened. "What is that thing?" It reminded him of the graphic illustrations he had seen in books of sailors' tales, where a giant squid would capsize a galleon and seize the crew with its squirming tentacles.

"Well do not just be doing something, stand there!" Karnage hollered. His claws shaved the bark of the tree as the vine pulled harder, lifting his leg up in the air.

Kit dug through his backpack and came up with Richter's buck knife, but before he had time to flick it open, Karnage lost his grip, and therefore the battle, but he was not about to lose alone: he grabbed onto Kit's ankle and towed him along for the ride!

Shouting for their lives, they were dragged through all the many bushes the vine had ventured came from, and hoisted into the air upside down.

"What is it?" Kit screamed.

Gasping, Karnage dropped the boy on his head at what he saw. In a throbbing haze, Kit looked up, and saw the same. Rising from its nest of large leaves and regurgitated skeletons of consumed prey, the jaws of a gigantic carnivorous plant prepared for an incoming meal. Kit recognized it as the type of plant Shere Khan kept in his office, but Khan did not have one that could swallow a Catallac.

Crouching upward, Karnage frantically tried to pry his foot free, but to no avail.

"You gotta cut it!" Kit shouted.

"With what?"

Kit held up the knife. "With this! Catch!" He threw it to him, but Karnage wasn't ready. The handle hit him in the head and deflected back to the ground somewhere, and vanished in the dark foliage.

"Ow!" Karnage yelped. "What are you trying to do?"

Kit slapped his forehead. "Cripes, you're hopeless!" Suddenly, his legs were stealthily snatched by another vine, taking him up as well. "Whoa, hey! This isn't good!"

"If you have any more estupid ideas," huffed Karnage, "I suggest you speak them now!"

"I'm… I'm all out of ideas!" Kit replied. "Maybe one: help!"

The plant went for Karnage first. It dangled him right above its jaws, opening wide. Kit looked away; the wolf's cries were suddenly muffled as the plant dropped him into its gaping maw, engulfing him.

"Ohmygosh!" Kit gasped.

Its cheeks puffed with its capture, but it was seemingly having trouble chewing… then suddenly Karnage stood up inside, pushing its jaws apart with his hands and feet. "Get me out of this thing!"

"You're alive!"

"No, I am a ghost, you simpering simpleton! Do something!"

"Hold on!" Kit managed to wriggle his ankles from the vine's grasp, and once again fell on his head. "Ugh," he moaned. "That's gonna smart..." He had to find the knife, fast, and crawled to where he thought it fell. "Just keep it busy!"

Given the struggle he was in, Karnage had no problem doing just that. The plant crunched down hard on him, and between that and Karnage pushing up, he folded up and down like an accordion. "Hurry!"

Kit searched frantically, but keeping a wary eye on the squirming vines at the same time. "I'm trying to!"

With much effort to avoid the plant's small, but many, jagged teeth, Karnage put his hands and feet on its 'lips,' one at a time, a last ditch effort to get out. "What is taking so long?!"

"I can't find the knife," Kit said. "I don't suppose you saw where it fell after it hit your head?"

Karnage gave him an exasperated but murderous look.

"Okay, okay. I guess you didn't."

"Whoa!" yelped Karnage. Suddenly snapping its jaws shut and jerking its head back, the plant sent him flipping like a flapjack. But the captain had not given up just yet. He landed on top of the creature's head, and clamped the plant's mouth shut with his arms and legs.

Over a patch of long grass, Kit came to a pond, and saw an object glistening at the bottom. "I found it!" he exclaimed. "Hold on!"

"What does it look like I am doing?!"

Kit waded into the water, and, unfortunately, his feet kicked up a brown cloud of mud with each step, blanketing the ground. Closing his eyes, he dunked down and blindly felt for the knife until he found it, then resurfaced. "All right, I'm com-ack!" No sooner than he opened his eyes, another treacherous vine quickly wrapped around his neck and yanked him out of the pond.

The plant's head tried like mad to shake Karnage off like a wild bull at a rodeo, but the captain was holding tight. "Oh no you don't!" Out of a sheer impulse of anger, he bit down on its green flesh, tore a chunk off and spit it back out. "*ptooey* How do you like it, you worthless weed?"

Choking, Kit tried to keep his head (in more than the metaphorical sense), as well as a hold of the knife. He plunged the blade hard into the vine, slicing it lengthwise. Squirting a thin, greenish blood all over his sweater, it loosened its grip, and he could breathe again. After a small gasp, he wheezed, "See how you like this," and plunged the knife in a second time. It finally released him and retreated into the ferns from which it came, and Kit fell to the ground, coughing. Then he noticed the green muck on him. "Gross, what is this stuff?"

"Boy!" Still clinging for dear life, Karnage was getting a little desperate for help.

"I got it," Kit said, raising the knife. "Uh… now what?"

"Attack it!" Karnage ordered. The mouth was beginning to beat him in their test of strengths, and inched open.

Kit looked at the giant plant in awe. "Attack it?" He couldn't have touched it even if he wanted to; it was too high, and too far back in its tangled fern fortress of a nest. "How?"

"Stab it, you idiot!"

"I can't reach it!" Kit had an idea, though. "Look, I'll throw the knife up to you. It can't stand being cut!"

Karnage gripped the mouth harder, his forehead burning red with anger. "And… just… how am I supposed to catch it?"

"Uh… darn." Kit thought for a few seconds. "I got it! I'll make the knife stick to it, then you grab it!"

Karnage's eyes became like saucers. "Stick? You do not mean…"

Holding the blade with his fingers, Kit wound it back over his head. "Just don't move."

"No no no no, bad idea!" Karnage shouted. "Bad!"

"I saw you do it hundreds of times, I can do it!"

"I was good at it! You stank! Don't you dare!"

"I can do this," Kit said confidently, although only for his own sake. He had indeed seen Karnage do it many times before, and for all that was taught in technique and target practice in those days, Karnage was indeed correct in his assessment of the boy's inability to hit the broad side of a barn while standing next to it. Not to mention how intensely the plant was shaking to make Karnage let go.

"It is the only weapon we have!" cried Karnage. "You're going to lose it or hit me! If I die here, I swear I am going to strangle you!"

"Yeah, well watch this!" Kit wound the knife back and thrust it forward, but only as Karnage finally lost the wrestling match. The plant's jaws opened wide, swallowing the captain... and the knife.

"Oh no…!" croaked Kit. But the blade of the knife suddenly punched through the roof of its mouth, then tore all the way down to the jaw, spraying green goo everywhere like a geyser of slime. The plant hissed and quivered in agony, then fell to the ground with a heavy, squishy thud.

"What the ― !" Kit tripped over his own feet and fell backwards, but not taking his eyes off the monster.

Panting, Karnage pulled himself from the cut he just made, and threw the knife in the dirt, seething. "You chose the wrong pirate for breakfast, didn't you, you overgrown shrub!"

Kit could hardly believe it, a little impressed, despite himself. "You're okay!"

The captain was having trouble pulling his legs out, though, and ended up tumbling to the ground, which made him even angrier. He was not hurt, but when he got to his feet, he noticed he was completely covered in the bleeding plant's slime. He whimpered in horrified disgust and outstretched his arms.

"You want a napkin?" Kit grinned.

Karnage threw his arms around violently, sending green globs flying. "Shut up, you! I hate plants!" He went to kick the dead plant, but slipped on the slime, and landed on his back.

Kit rolled backwards in hysterics as Karnage let out a scream of frustration.

"What are you laughing at?" Karnage tried to get to his feet, but slipped again, this time doing the splits. He felt like yelling again, but wouldn't the boy the satisfaction. So, calmly and slowly, he raised himself up, trying not to shudder at the goo dripping from his body. "There."

"What? Should I clap now?"

Karnage scowled, and started stepping towards him. "Perhaps you should run before I ― " Two steps and he slipped again… this time he absolutely refused to fall, but his feet just wouldn't find traction. The result: Kit watched him sway, kick, and spin like a dizzy can-can dancer away from the plant, towards the pond.

*splash*

Kit casually walked to the water, grinning smugly. "Well, that's one way to rinse off."

Karnage cursed in Spanish and swiped his hand across the pond.


From behind the cover of a mossy boulder, Colonels Jackson and Taylor crouched down, cringing at the sound of bones and sinew being snapped in the midst of a gurgling death rattle.

"Damned varan," Richter huffed, angrily but proudly standing over the lifeless creature. It had just attempted to ambush them, and a brief but intense wrestling match ensued, which Richter won the upper hand by grabbing its horns and pinning it down on its jaw, and finished by sinking his machete deep into the creature's neck. "I owe the gash on my leg to one that snuck up on me." He looked over the corpse, and saw it was already wounded. "This one's been shot; recently, too."

"We... we heard gunshots last night," said Jackson. The two braved their way from the bolder, knees shaking. They passed by the varan lightly on their toes; though it was nearly decapitated and painted in its own blood, it had attacked in such suddenness and ferocity that there was no solace against the fear of it as much twitching one of its claws. "I never saw it coming. Look at those teeth... it was going to rip us to shreds!"

"Not right away," said Richter, amused at their cowardice. "That drool dripping from its mouth is pure venom. They love to fight, but once they've bit you, they'll toy with you, enjoying the show as your arms and legs shut down, slicing your hide up with their claws until the paralysis completely sets in. If you're lucky, you'll bleed out when they eat your legs, or you might watch them rip your gut open and tear your insides out."

Behind their black fur, the panthers turned pale as ghosts. "How... if it one bit you...?"

"Bastard came in for the kill too early. I took its head off." With is bloodied machete Richter made a cutting gesture around his own neck, and laughed loudly when the pilots' eyes glazed over. He spotted his rifle at the base of a granite cliff, and picked it up. "That'd explain what you heard. The fleabags must've climbed the rocks to get away from it. We're on the right track." After checking and finding the ammunition spent, he set the gun on top of the cliff. He then took a few steps back, and with a short charge, hoisted himself to the top. "Let's go," he called back to the panthers. "We got a lot of time to make up for."

They looked up at him, then at each other, dumbfounded. One finally piped up to the other, "Uh, why don't you give me a lift up and I'll-"

"Wait a minute," the other protested. "Why me?"

The two started arguing, and had Richter been within arms reach of them, how he would have loved to knock their heads together. "Crimeny," he sighed. "How did I wind up with these two?" He turned back to the edge of the cliff. "On second thought, I want you two to head back to town. I'll find you there."

"To town? But our orders were to stay with you."

Then Richter really wanted to knock their heads together, disgusted entirely of such pretense. "Your orders were to make sure Khan was notified if I found his precious glowing rocks, nothing else," he said. "I'm going pirate hunting, you won't be able to keep up. The city is two days walking time, straight west from here. Take the gear, I won't need it."

"But- but Mr. Richter," one stuttered. "Those lizards... what about if something ― "

Richter abruptly kicked his rifle down to their feet. "There, you got the shells packed, you got your pistols, too. You see anything, shoot it. You two nature-boys think you can at least do that?"

They looked at him, as nervous and puzzled as ever.

"Two days, west." Richter said, starting on his way. "I'll meet back up with you..." As he picked up the pace, he muttered, "… maybe."


At Higher for Hire, Rebecca slouched over the kitchen counter, absently tapping her fingers against an empty teacup. She stared at nothing in particular, oblivious to the piercing whistle of a boiling kettle.

Baloo walked up behind her and looked over her shoulder. "Think yer tea's done, Becky."

She jumped as if startled, and turned the stove off. "Oh!"

"The cops get back to you?"

"I just got off the phone with them a minute ago."

"An' what'd they say?"

She frowned as she tipped the kettle against the teacup. "They said as soon as any officer sees the Iron Vulture, they'd be sure to pull it over and ask about Kit."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay. I don't know what I was expecting them to do." Then she noticed he had traded his pajamas for his regular pilot garb. "Baloo, what are you doing? The doctor said it could be dangerous to fly."

"You don't think a bump on the head's gonna keep me from findin' Kit?"

She shook her head and sighed. "You know, I've been thinking of when the pirates had us all cornered on their island, and he pulled a lot of tricks to get us out. Somehow, I think he's still okay."

"Yeah, I know." Baloo grinned, half-heartedly. "He'll be okay right up until I wring his neck."

"Just be careful. Please."

"Don't you worry. I still know what I'm doin'."


"For the last time, I know what I'm doin'," Kit told Don Karnage. He snapped his compass shut and tucked it back in his sweater, then stuffed the map back in his backpack.

"That is what you said when you tried to climb that tree for the fruit," said Karnage. He nervously swatted the back of his neck, remembering.

"Well how was I supposed to know there was a beehive up there? Besides, that food looked good, and I'm starving." Kit sat down on a large rock, resting his aching feet.

Karnage did the same, at the other end of the stone. "I could eat the culo off of a dead rhinoceros," he said quietly, then asked, "Then you do know where to go from here, yes?"

"Yep." With his thumb, Kit gestured behind himself. The Atronador Heights stood proud and tall, abruptly ending the forested area with their steep, rocky cliffs. Dense shrubbery grew near where Kit and Karnage sat, but sharply disappeared as the slopes reached further into the sky.

Karnage regarded the peaks with exasperation. It was almost like staring at the top of a skyscraper from across the street, but this climb had no elevators or stairs. "I… how are you supposing we get up there?"

"We can't," Kit answered. "Not straight up and over. According to the map, there's a route we can take that's more shallow. It's a long hike, but I don't think we have a choice."

Karnage suddenly heard a growling noise, and snapped his head around to see. "What was that?"

"My stomach," Kit replied, grimly.

"Oh." Karnage turned away again, uninterested. He had his own stomach to think about.

Up ahead, toucans decorated the forest green trees with colorful spots of red, orange, and yellow. Tired, hungry, and bored, it was easy for a mind to wonder in a moment of rest; Karnage zeroed in on the birds on one at a time as they moved about, getting lost in the waves of swaying branches and sudden streaks of vibrant color. The hypnotic effect took his mind away from his own hunger, until…

"Bananas!" Kit exclaimed.

Karnage blinked. "Watch your language, boy ― wait, what?"

Kit pointed up at a tree, where large banana bunches grew. "Look! We can eat those!" The boy got to his feet and stood directly under it. Unfortunately, it was far too high for him to reach. "Come on, gimme another boost."

"Hmph." Karnage didn't move, but muttered, "I would like to give you a boost with my foot."

Kit waited, impatiently. "You gonna get off your duff or what?"

"I have had enough of your stinking feet on my face, thank you very much," Karnage replied.

"Fine," said Kit, waving him off. "Who needs you?" He wrapped his hands and legs around the trunk and started climbing, and Karnage rested his chin in his palm, watching him. What he wouldn't give to see Kit slip and fall flat on the ground. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, just imagining it.

With small grunts, Kit reached the top of the tree, and used his legs to wrap around the trunk while he pried four bananas from their bunch, dropped them to the ground, and slid down to retrieve them. "Piece of cake," he said, dusting off his hands.

Snorting resentful regards, Karnage refused to even look at the boy as he proudly sauntered back to the stone and sat next to him. 'He thinks he is always the clever-type person,' Karnage thought. 'And he is not even me!'

In no time, Kit finished his first banana. He tossed the peel to the side, and eagerly began on a second one. As he ate, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Karnage looking at him, practically salivating. Slowly, Kit turned his head at him. "Yes?"

Karnage quickly looked away, inwardly snarling. 'I do not care howhungry I am… I would rather starvethan ask that… that… filthy fleafor help!' Then his stomach rumbled. 'Quiet, you boistering belly!'

Kit heard it loud and clear, but pretended to ignore it. He took the last bites of his second banana, taking almost half of it in one mouthful. 'I guess it would be pretty mean of me to not offer him just one' He swallowed, and started on his next one. 'Heh heh heh.'

Karnage felt like he was going to pass out if he did not eat soon, and studied the banana tree ahead. 'Hmm, if the boy could do it… surely it could not be thatdifficult.'

Thus, he promptly got to his feet, and marched determinedly to the tree. Kit raised an eyebrow as he watched him approach it and the manner in which he stood there, wringing his hands and sizing it up for a climb. "Oh boy…" he muttered dryly. "This oughtta be good."

Karnage rubbed his paws together as he stood before the trunk, recalling how Kit climbed it. Before he began, he glanced behind him. Kit had stopped eating and was watching him, but once eye contact was made, he instantly looked away, as if he couldn't care less.

"Humph," Karnage huffed. He wrapped his arms and legs around the trunk and clung onto it. He could not quite figure out how to put his legs; right over left, left over right, right over left again…

By then, it was Kit's turn to watch chin-in-palm. "And me without a camera."

"I heard that!" said Karnage. He had finally decided on left over right and was almost to the top. "Ah-ha! You did not think that I could do it, did you?"

Kit shrugged and tossed his last banana peel aside.

Karnage smirked. 'If the boy took four, then Ican take them all!' With both hands, he tried to pry the entire bunch from the tree.

When Kit realized what he was doing, he began to utter a warning: "Uh, I don't think that's such a good ― " But he stifled himself. "No, wait. This is going to be good."

"Come on, you infuriating fruit," Karnage grunted, pulling down with all his might. It simply was not working. Then he tried another tactic, and wrapped his arms around the entire bunch, trying to shake it off.

Kit pictured it so clearly in his head… Karnage's legs losing grip on the trunk, the captain dangling from the bananas, slipping and falling on his tail… Somehow he wasn't too surprised when it actually happened.

Sitting on the ground, Karnage shut his eyes, shaking with anger. The mere thought of the smug grin he was receiving from Kit made his blood boil. In his fists were two smushed bananas that he had grasped onto, the spoils of his effort.

"So that's how it's done," said Kit, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Karnage took a deep breath, and glared at the fruit in is hands. "I hate bananas," he hissed, and commenced peeling.


Jesse Richter plowed through the jungle at double pace, clearing small trees from his path each with one enormous backhand. He panted heavily, taking mile after mile with little rest. He swore at the searing pain in his wounded leg, and, in a fit of defiance, pushed himself to a full sprint and swore louder. His leg buckled while going over a giant tree root, and he toppled into the mud.

He stifled more swearing and focused his eyes straight ahead, reverting back to his military training, when he learned to control pain by focusing on the task at hand, mind over matter. He pictured Karnage getting away free, and living to boast about it; that was all he needed. Richter stomped through the mud, picked up speed as a heavy locomotive building steam, and charged forward.

This kind of endurance was nothing new to him. His life had always seemed to center around his unusual gift of size and strength. As a child, he would wrestle, box, and pick street fights with teenagers twice his age. When he was sixteen, he lied about his age and joined the army, just years after the end of the Great War, where he was placed with a platoon specializing in 'gorilla' warfare. It was during a training exercise deep in the Atronador Basin that he saw his first ruined Felocian citadel, and became intrigued by the legend floating around of a lost golden city.

He was well learned in survival tactics and combat, though never much for firearms; he could hold his own when it came to game hunting with a long rifle, but most guns were too small and clumsy in his hands to be effective. When he left the military to follow his new fascination, he quickly found that treasure hunting brought no immediate reward, and he supported himself through the years self-employed as a mercenary, traveling the world for a variety of contracts, from bounty hunter to bodyguard, all while absorbing any iota of knowledge to be found about ancient Felocia and keeping his eye on his goal.

Once hired by Shere Khan, free and financed to relentlessly unturn every stone one by one in search of Rhamastan, the Atronador Basin, unforgiving as it was, became a home away from home. In time he rarely relied on maps, but became familiar enough though his studies and experience of exploration to confidently sense his way through.

He slowed to a halt when he came to a small clearing. Something colorful on the ground caught his attention. "Banana peels… they've been here."

He rested his boot on top of the same stone Kit and Karnage formerly sat upon, and leaned against his knee, finally taking a moment to catch his breath.

"It makes no sense," he mused, gazing at the mountains. "Where the hell are these guys going..." He wiped the sweat from his brow and stretched, arching his back. The sun had already begun to tint gold, ever so slowly descending. Sunset would be less than an hour away. Looking on the ground, he noticed faint footprints embedded in the soil; he could only make out two distinct tracks, and one of them seemed suspiciously small... but he could tell which direction they went, and that was all he needed to know.


Late that night, like diamonds on black velvet, the moonless sky sparkled with more stars than Kit had ever seen before at once.

Behind him, Don Karnage grumbled as he tried to find a comfortable lying position. But sleeping on solid rock with a single blanket was not exactly something he was used to, and he gave more than his fair share of ranting about doing so before finally turning in.

After hours of hiking, they had followed a narrow path hundreds of feet up a mountain and were camped alongside a cliff that overlooked much of the jungle. It was a man-made path, rugged and ancient, that cut into the granite slopes and curved behind a nearby waterfall that they would pass under in the morning.

The falling water lulled Kit with its soft hiss. Now and then the breeze would carry a cold mist to his face, prompting him to tug his blanket more securely around his shoulders. He sat up as he gazed at the sky and horizon, exhausted but not quite sleepy. The grand treetops of the Atronador were laid before them like a still, silver sea. Moths flickered around their two fading lanterns.

Karnage expelled a heavy sigh and rolled onto his side, cursing anything and everything that was harder than his mattress on the Iron Vulture. He looked at Kit from behind. "You have not been to sleep yet?"

Kit jostled a little as if he had been caught off guard, and shook his head in reply.

With a grunt, Karnage sat up. His voice was soft, tired. "I have not slept a winkle."

"Wink," Kit corrected.

Karnage yawned and wiped his eyes. "Is what I said."

A few moments passed; Kit moved only as much to blink. Karnage studied him for a while, trying to figure his thoughts out. He looked up at the sky above, wondering what was so fascinating. "Flying saucers, boy?"

"Just thinkin'," replied Kit. "It's a big sky. And a big jungle... tomorrow's day number three."

"Don't remind me," groaned Karnage, and once again tried to lie down with some measure of comfort.

"What do you think's there?" Kit suddenly asked.

Karnage raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"In this Rhamastan place," said Kit. "I wonder what it's like."

"Treasure," Karnage said quietly. "And lots of it. How much farther must we go?"

"Not too far," Kit replied. "We could be there by tomorrow…" He sighed, remembering Baloo's words. "If it's not buried under ten feet of snow."

Karnage made no reply to that; even if the boy had a point, did not even want to consider such a discovery.

Kit drew his knees close to his chin and closed his eyes. "But we'll finally be rich," he whispered to himself. "And Miz Cunningham won't have to worry about payin' bills anymore. She and Baloo won't argue anymore. And Baloo could buy back… buy back…" His thoughts were drowned deep in doubts. He wanted to live more than he wanted to be rich. For every miserable moment spent in the wilderness risking their skins, all to reach a mere mark on a map, what if there wasn't anything there.

At length, he asked Karnage, "You wanna just try to get out of here?"

"You want to give up?"

"I don't want to, I'm just sayin', it's something to think about. Whatever we do, we're stuck in this mess together."

"Don't remind me of that, either. And leave the thinking to me, will you? I know how to do it right."

"Huh," scoffed Kit. "Clam chowder."

"Oh, shut up."

"Gorilla birds."

"I said, shut up."

"Diamonds hidden in icebergs."

"I am trying to get a little sleep tonight, thank you!"

"You were doing fine a while ago," Kit replied, adjusting his blanket and lying down himself. "Either that or you're the only person I know who snores while he's awake."

"I do not… snore."

"Take my word for it…" Kit closed his eyes and settled. "You snore."

"I do not!" Karnage protested. "You on the other hand..."

"I don't snore."

"Ha!"

"Aw, dummy up and go to sleep, will ya?"

"Yes, do that."

"Fine."

"Fine! And I do not snore."


"Doesn't snore," griped Kit as he readied his backpack; the rising dawn as bestowed upon them a new day, and they woke at first light. "Shoulda brought my earmuffs."

Karnage knelt by the waterfall, washing his hands and face. Never again would he take hot showers for granted.

In the horizon, a smokestack of black clouds billowed across the sky, blocking the rising sun. Kit had seen countless thunderstorms before, but hardly one that moved so fast and strong; it sent a chill down his back. "That doesn't look good."

"No, it does not," Karnage agreed, staring at the incoming storm with the same fascination, although for not quite the same reason. "But you know… if there were only clouds like that around Cape Suzette more often, I could sneak over them with the Iron Vulture and―"

Kit interrupted his daydream. "Just come on, okay? That thing's coming this way, and I don't wanna be standin' around in it."


One half-hour later, Richter trudged up to the same ledge Kit and Karnage had been camped at. He had known where the mountain path was and how to get there, but the night for him was long and painful, finding his direction through starlight in almost absolute darkness. He had slowed considerably, taking long breaks throughout the night.

Again, his eye caught a trace of the pirates on the ground… a brass button that must have detached from Karnage's coat. He saw or heard no signs of aircraft, and certainly no other vessel could have taken the pirates. They had to still be on foot, and he could still catch up with them.

He crouched to take a drink from the waterfall. Thunderclaps echoing in the distance caught his attention. "Terrific," he grumbled, eyeing the inbound storm. 'I don't feel like playing in the rain. I better catch 'em today, or else...'


"Will you forget about it already?" Kit said, annoyed. "It was just a dumb button!"

"It was not just a button, boy," Karnage objected. He halted, looking at his belly. The last button on his right side was gone. "It does not look right!"

Kit threw his arms in the air. "So what? You've got a whole closet full of coats exactly like that one!"

"It's the principapal of the thing!" Karnage retorted. "And keep out of my closets, you snotty snoop!"

"Would you also like to know what you keep under your mattress?" smirked Kit.

"Under my…? Why you ― !"

"Just thought I'd ask," the boy shrugged. Some people liked to start their morning off with a fine cup of hot coffee; for Kit, the best part of waking up was getting under Karnage's skin.

Further down in their path, Karnage continued, "Now I know why I hardly saw you. You were always busy poking your nuisance of a nose in my things."

"Wha'?" That made Kit stop and abruptly face him. "You hardly ever saw me 'cause you always had your head in the clouds!"

"You always hided from everyone. I see everything on my ship!"

"Especially your own dumb ol' reflection." Disgusted, Kit turned and walked away. "I don't even wanna talk about it."

Karnage followed, bewildered. What anyone could find revolting about looking at his reflection just didn't register. "So I look at my wonderfully handsome self! Who would not?"


Soon afterwards, the two came to a deep ravine, of which they stopped at the edge of to observe their next move. It was easily two hundred feet to the other side, where a more forested area resided. The stormy black clouds loomed overhead, flashing with lightning. Rain had not yet started to fall, but it would not be far behind.

"Do not be telling me…" Karnage began.

"We gotta get on the other side," Kit finished.

"I told you not to be telling me that."

Then they took a peek below them. It was at least a five-hundred foot sheer vertical drop, where rushing white rapids of a great river knifed between the cliffs. Swallowing, both stepped away from the ledge.

"You did not say anything about this," Karnage said. "I suppose we are to flap our arms and fly to the other side?"

"You can if you want," Kit replied. "But I think I'll try the bridge. According to the map, there's one somewhere around here. It should be just upstream."

When they found the bridge a few moments later, Karnage frowned as he examined it. "That is not a bridge, boy. That is toothpicks on string!"

For what it was worth, his discernment was not far off. The bridge was thin and long, made of a series of narrow planks, supported by two ropes that strung across the ravine, with two more ropes suspended above it as makeshift handrails. The middle sagged by several yards, and rocked in the amassing wind. Two large stakes in the ground at both ends bound it all together.

"It… it looks strong enough," Kit said uncertainty. "Uh… you go first."

"I think I would rather flap my arms." The captain tapped his toe on the first plank, testing its fragility. "You go first. You are closer."

Given that he was standing behind Karnage, Kit gave him an incredulous look. "What are you talkin' about? I am not."

Karnage grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him onto the bridge. "You are no-ow," he grinned.

"Hey!" Kit complained; then he grimaced. "I can't believe I fell for that."

Karnage nudged him further. "Go on boy, shoo."

"All right, all right, quit rushin' me!" Slowly, Kit stepped forward, delicately adding his weight to each plank. The wood was soft and weathered, and felt light and hollow like cork under his feet; he sidestepped on the edge, while Karnage straddled the sides, watching Kit's steps as well as his own very carefully. Both of them keeping their feet as much as possible on the underlying ropes, for they seemed stronger to hold together than the middle of the planks. The further they went, the more the bridge wobbled… and creaked. Though neither one had ever held a fear of heights, they forced themselves not to look down.

When they reached the middle of the bridge, Kit stopped, dead still. "Do you feel that?"

"No," lied Karnage. "Go, go, go!" The shaky tension of the ropes made the once curved sag a straight and shallow 'V' shape, and directly ahead, one of the stakes that bound the ropes was leaning, more and more as the bridge wobbled, on the verge of snapping.

Kit's voice was excited, but he kept it to a whisper as if he risked inciting an avalanche. "We're too heavy. We gotta go back!"

"Are you estupid?" Karnage replied. "We are too far!"

Breathing uneasily, Kit kept a deathgrip on the railing rope with both hands… so did Karnage. "It's not gonna hold! Whatever we do we better do fast or this is gonna be one heck of a high-diving act!"

Karnage could not disagree. "Perhaps we could, as you say, pull chunks," he suggested.

Kit cringed. "That's... chocks."

"Whatever! We can run to the end before it goes!"

Given that Kit's feet were anxiously yearning for solid ground, it was a tempting idea. "But we can't… we move like that and it'll snap before we even get close."

Karnage raised his voice. "Are you wanting to just stand here and enjoy the view?"

"Okay, okay," gulped Kit. "Fast, but be easy.."

"I am always easy! Now go! Go, go, go!"

Kit started sidestepping at double pace, trying his best to move smoothly. Karnage hastily followed at his heels, literally. "Ow!" Kit yelped. "Quit kicking my ankle!"

"If you do not hurry I will be kicking your ― !"

A sudden bolt of lightning hammered into the side of the ravine just behind them, sending shattered stone flying all around them. Gasping, they fell forward, covering their heads as if under an air raid. Bits of rock pelted the bridge and their bodies.

"What is happening!" Karnage hollered. Just when he thought it was safe to look up, a final falling chunk bounced off his head. "Ouch!"

Kit's heart pounded. It was not until he was sure the bridge was still holding that he breathed again. "It was… just lightning," he said shakily.

"Yes, just lightning!" Karnage said.

As Kit got back to his feet, he stared straight ahead towards the end of the bridge, as if mentally commanding it to stay intact. That was all he wanted to concentrate on, getting across, and not looking back. 'Almost there,' he thought, 'almost there…'

But Karnage did not move. His attention was ensnared upon something behind them. "Boy… the bridge…" His voice was faltering.

Kit went on, not hearing him, probably by choice.

"… is on fire," Karnage said.

Kit stopped. That he heard. "What?"

"It is on fire!" Karnage repeated anxiously through gritted teeth.

Kit snapped his head back, finding Karnage was right. Along with what sparse shrubbery grew along the cliff-side, the bridge had been set ablaze, with the flames greedily consuming the rope and dry, brittle wood at a fast pace. "Oh my gosh…!"

"Rain clouds, eh?" said Karnage scornfully at the sky. "Then where is the rain when you need ― wait, what am I doing just standing here? Out of the way, boy!" He made a sudden beeline for the other side, and the bridge shook madly.

"Wait!" Kit put a hand up, trying to stop him. "Watch out! It's gonna ― no!"

It was too late for warnings. The fire had eaten through, the bridge snapped, and the wooden planks suddenly fell from under their feet. Screaming, they clung to the rope for dear life and swung like two trapeze artists before slamming into the rocky cliff. The bone-jarring impact was so solid that they felt their teeth rattle. Kit lost his grip and fell on top of Karnage, almost knocking him off as well.

"Boy!Look out!"

Dazedly, Kit rolled down Karnage's shoulders and grabbed onto his backpack; it promptly snapped from Karnage and fell into oblivion, Kit almost with it, but he clawed out blindly and caught onto Karnage's coat pocket, ripping it open; then he grabbed onto the only other thing he could get his hands around.

"Yeeooww!" Karnage howled. "Let go of my tail!"

Kit blinked as he gathered his wits. He was losing his grip on the wolf's tail, too. He slid off, taking two fistfuls of fur with him, and latched back onto the rope with his hands and legs. Looking down, he watched with dread as the last plank of wood from the bridge fell into the raging river below.

"I… I told you that would happen!" Sensing that they were at the mercy of a weakening stake above and ounces counted, Kit was through taking any more chances. He made sure his legs were snug enough around the rope, and let his backpack fall. It hit the water without even a splash, and never resurfaced.

"What did you do that for?" shouted Karnage. "I hope you are satisfied, you loud-mouthed leprechaun! Now what?"

"Now shut up, that's what!" Kit shouted back.

Karnage boiled with fury. "If my hands were not busy saving myself, I would strangle your scrawny-type neck!"

"If you don't quit pulling this rope around we're gonna be dead!"

Karnage paused, and took a good look below. A dizzy spell washed over him as he thought about the pending fall.

"Just… climb," Kit said, in a calmer tone. "Easy, okay? Don't rock the rope!"

"Fine…" Karnage put hand over hand and scaled higher. "But if this rope breaks, then I blame it on you and all your blasted bananas!"

"Just hurry it up," said Kit. "I'm not gonna die arguing with you."

"Oh, no no, I want you to make it to the top… so I may strangle you then!"

Grudgingly muttering about needing a 'chiro-practicer', the captain eventually hoisted himself to safety. The first thing he did was give his tail a test-wag to make sure it wasn't broken.

Kit was almost there, reaching for the edge, while Karnage, exhausted, absently leaned against the weakend, bending stake. Kit just barely poked his head up far enough to see. "Huh? N-no!"

It broke snapped in two, and Karnage tumbled to the ground. Before he realized what was happening, Kit let out a cry and dropped out of his sight, and the rope whipped off the cliff. Then it dawned on him. "Oh… oopsie."

For a beat, he just sat there, mind blank. 'The boy is… gone?' He curiously peered over the edge. "Boy?"

"Help!" Kit was clinging to a clump of roots and shrubs that sprouted from the cliffside.

"You did not fall?"

"I'm tryin' not to! Do something!"

"Do not be yelling at me!" Karnage ordered. He scanned behind him, looking for something, like a vine, that he could use to bring Kit up. There were trees, bushes, leaves, dirt, rocks, a few birds here and there, but no vines... though he could swear he had swatted one hanging in front of his face every ten paces through the jungle thus far, never one when it was needed.

"I can't hold on anymore!" Kit hollered. "Hurry!"

"I am looking!" yelled Karnage. But there was simply nothing for him to use. "I cannot believe I am even trying to save that worthless whelp," he muttered.

"Karnage!"

"O-kay!" Karnage roared. He got on his stomach and reached down. "Here! Give me your filthy hand!"

Kit tried to reach, but he was just inches too far. "You gotta find something!"

"But there is nothing!"

"Find something! Anything!"

"I told you do not be yelling at me! Is it my fault you are the midget with the short arms?!"

Kit wrinkled his nose at him. "I'm not a midget!"

Karnage sat up, searching for ideas. "Something… something…" From his torn coat pocket, a red kerchief had fallen out by his side. It was lengthy enough, perhaps not strong enough... but for present company, that was a risk he was willing to take. He wrapped it around his hand twice, tightly, and got on his stomach, lowering the cloth toward Kit.

Almost trance-like, Kit stared into the river below. Even if he had his airfoil to save him from the fall, it would do him little good in a current like that. The mesmerizing effect broke when he felt something dangling at his wrists.

"Here!" Karnage called. "Grab this!"

Kit didn't need to be told twice. He managed to grasp the cloth with one hand and finally grab the pirate's wrist with the other. Above, Karnage braced himself and pulled the boy to the top.

"That was… too close," Kit panted, wobbling to his feet. He had never been so glad to be on solid ground. Then he glanced at what was clenched in his hands, a scarf... a seemingly very familiar one. Speechless, he stared at it, then looked at Karnage questioningly.

Karnage only rubbed his arm, casting upon him a contemptuous look. "You know that you are fat for such a tiny toad, yes?"

"What… where did this come from?"

Karnage swiped it from Kit's hands. "What? Is only a nose-blower." He put it up to his nose and honked loudly. "See?"

In such a demonstration, however, Kit's puzzled expression did not change. "You keep that with you?"

"I have lots of them, I don't know what you are talking about," Karnage scowled, and threw the scarf at Kit's feet. "It is nothing. I do not even want it anymore, now that your putrid paws have been all over it. So there!"

"All this time…" Kit said quietly. He picked it up, not sure what to think.

"Bah, you are looney in the cabesa," Karnage scoffed, and started away into the trees. "I am going."

His eyebrows knitting in contemplation, Kit watched him storm off. Raindrops began to drizzle from the dark clouds, accompanied by another growl of thunder.

'I guess it isnothing,' he thought. 'It's gotta be. He'd never… not after… would he?Nah…' Kit held the scarf over the cliff's edge and opened his palm, allowing the corners to float in the breeze, as if waiting for the wind to arbitrarily pick it up and send it away forever.

From the other side of the ravine, Richter wiped his face and squinted, seeing a small figure in green disappear into the forest. "Bingo! I got 'em now!" With a great boost of speed, he sprinted along the cliff-side, looking for the bridge that would take him across. "It's gotta be somewhere around here... should be right ― what? You gotta be kidding me!"

He came to a stop near smoldering pieces of wood, furiously grinding his teeth. There was no way he could follow them now. With wrath exploding inside him like the lightning blasting above, he kicked the charred wooden stake into a cloud of black ashes. "Karnage! Dammit, I'm gonna bust you in half! You hear me? You're mine!"