Chapter 3: Whole Mess-o'-Meta
"I'm sorry," Said the ship captain, rubbing his sleep-deprived eyes, "Let me get this straight: You want me to take you to Chicago, without pay, because a bunch of evil clones are chasing you?"
"Trust me," Said Phelous, still panting from the strenuous run he and Luke had undergone a few moments before, "It doesn't make any sense to us, either. But think for a second: If we were honestly in trouble and needed to get to Chicago by boat, don't you think we would have come up with a better excuse unless what we were saying was actually true?"
The captain thought about this for a second. "Fair point. But I still don't see why I should take you on my ship pro bono. What's in it for me?"
Luke, also slightly out of breath but vastly improving, thought it over for a few moments. Or, rather, conferenced over it for a few moments as he went into his own mind.
"Okay guys, do you have any suggestions on what we should do to get on the boat?"
"You've gotten over the hard part in getting him to believe you," Said Ringo, "Just say he'll get paid when we get to Chicago. For all we know, that could happen."
"Yeah, but what if there isn't anyone there at Chicago when we arrive?" Said Philip, "Then we'll be fucked and he'll probably just hand us over. In no way, can we afford that to happen. Just bring up how, if they continue to argue about this, those clones will show up and kill all three of us. That should get him moving."
Luke nodded inside his own mind, and then relayed this to the ship captain. He was about to argue this point again when they heard a faint sound in the distance.
Within mere seconds, the faint sound became a vast stampede of footsteps on the dull, cold earth behind them. A virtual army of Phelous copies running straight for them, all looking identical save for one. One was wearing a dark hat and coat, and was walking at a steady pace while the army swarmed around and ahead of him.
The boat captain took one glance at the army approaching them like a pack of drunken rhinos and said, "Done. Get on." And with that, the three of them quickly got on the ferry, the captain getting on last and untying the knot holding it onto the Ontario pier.
The three of them started running towards the bridge, Phelous and Luke getting lost, not knowing where the bridge was.
"Hey, Canucks!" Shouted the captain from a small room, "Over here!"
The two reviewers followed his voice to the bridge. The captain was sitting in the captain's chair, started pushing buttons and flicking switches on the captain's controls, and the captain's ship started moving.
"Why does everything have to have the word 'Captain' in front of it?" Said Phelous, flashing a confused look to the captain.
"Why do all of your reviews have the word 'Phelous' in them?" Said the captain, mimicking Phelous' confused expression.
Phelous sighed, and then he took a double-take. "Wait, you know who I am?"
The captain cursed under his breath. "Yeah. Luke as well. I'm a big fan of your work." As he said 'work', his voice cracked slightly.
"Geez, your voice is still breaking? How old are you?"
"16. Don't ask me how I got this job."
"You wrote yourself into your own story as a lame attempt at meta?"
The captain put a finger to his lips.
"Shhh. The reader isn't meant to know that yet."
Phelous paused for a moment.
"Oh, right. Okay. Well, Mr. Captain-Guy-That-We-Definitely-Don't-Know-The-Identity-Of, how long will it be before we reach Chicago?"
"From here, at top speed, we'll be there in about 2 days. Best get comfortable, mates."
Getting comfortable quickly became the least of their priorities, as a loud and heavy thud came from the roof, followed by a raspy voice shouting "Find them, and bring them to me!"
"I don't suppose you have an armory on this boat, do you?" Queried Luke.
"I thought you two had your own weapons." Said the captain, scrambling towards a closet in one of the other sections of the deck. "Phelous, don't you have a bunch of weapons from your Resident Evil reviews?"
"Well, yeah, but it's not as I carry them around with me everywhere I go. It's not as if I was expecting to be attacked by hundreds of my clones this month."
"Well, it's a good thing this is a world where I can openly poke fun at cliches." The captain opened the closet, revealing a black trunk. He swung it open and took out a silver 9mm pistol. He handed it to Phelous. Phelous quickly examined this, and made a shocking discovery.
"What is this?" Said Phelous, doing a voice that would make Barry Gjerde proud.
"That is exactly what you think it is. You can thank me later, if we survive this. Now, Luke: Pick one. We haven't got much time."
Luke walked over to the trunk, looked over the assortment of toys that the captain conveniently had stored. One weapon in particular caught his eye, and while his friends bickered over it, he ignored and went after the massive shotgun anyway. He took some shells from the trunk as well, and put them in his jacket pocket, putting two in the gun itself.
"I got a shotgun." Luke snickered a little. "You ready?" Said Luke, brandishing his arm.
"What do you think? You gonna help us out?" He asked the captain.
"Hey, I'm just the supplier. This is your story; make the readers enjoy it. Good luck." And with that, he immediately ran back to the bridge, and locked the door behind him.
Just then, the footsteps made their way down the stairs towards our two courageous Canadians.
"Head over there," Said Luke, gesturing to the other side of the room. "There's more than one stairway leading from the roof. You guard that one, I got this one."
"Since when did you become Captain Guy?"
"Since my Inner Soldier got over his PTSD and gave me a few pointers. Now get over there, soldier!"
Phelous, not wanting to argue with the kid carrying a shotgun, went over to the other set of stairs. Within moments, Luke started firing at the vastly growing herd of Phelouses, his eyes as cold as the bodies were quickly becoming. While Luke was blasting the heads clean off, Phelous was firing off rounds right between the eyes of the approaching clones, and hitting with astounding accuracy. The bodies were piling up just in front of the stairs, making it harder for new Phelouses to step, and there was a metric fuckton of them! But then...
Click.
"Shit!" Said Phelous, firing twice more, but to no avail. "Luke, I don't suppose you could throw an extra clip? Or several, if possible?"
Luke, still firing away at the Phelouses, was still aiming at the enemy with dead eye focus and blocking out everything else that was going around him except for the Phelouses.
"Fine. I'll get them myself, why don't I?" Phelous ran over to the trunk and grabbed a few extra clips. Suddenly, there was a loud crash that knocked Luke out of his trance. It was a window. Or, more specifically, all of the windows. Realising that the stairways were quickly becoming blocked by their own corpses, the Phelouses had started crashing through the windows. Well, most of them, as some were too small and Phelous clones got wedged in them, but nevertheless, the situation was getting worse. They needed a plan, and quickly.
"Got any ideas?" Said Luke, realising he was quickly running out of shells.
"I'd say we're fucked, Luke. You?"
Luke was getting visibly shaken. He wasn't a naturally angry or nervous person, but at this moment, he felt an exceptional blend of both. It felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest like the Facehugger in Alien. But then, something happened. How it happened, I myself can't even explain, but let me put it to you like this: What once was one has become many.
Suddenly, there were tens of Lukes at the ready, all huddled together.
"Okay, guys. I don't know any more than you do, but you surely know how much danger we're in. Grab a weapon, and get to work. We haven't got long."
And with that, the Lukes grabbed their own arms, Ralph being last and selecting a very lethal looking machete that was nestled on the bottom. And without delaying any longer, they were unleashed. Ralph ran directly at the herd, letting out a blood-curdling scream and slashing crazily as he did; Wretch, not bothering with anything in the trunk, grabbed a nearby table and threw it into the crowd like a discus; Philip smacked around a group of Phelouses with a lead pipe and Ringo took up an AK-47 and fired wildly at the mass of burgundy shirts and bowl cuts. The others just took up pistols and shot away, just hoping that they would something that wasn't one of their own.
Within a few minutes, there was a loud, megaphone-assisted voice screeching "Now It's my turn." And with that, the Phelouses began to retreat. A few seconds later, a loud bang rocked the boat. But it didn't tip the boat over, so much as it destroyed the top deck. Everyone looked up, and saw D1 standing on the edge of a helicopter, megaphone in his right hand.
"I see my army has done little to halter you two. I guess I should have just gone and bombed the ship to the ground at the beginning."
"Yeah, you're kind of an ill-prepared dumbass like that." Said Phelous.
"Oh well. I still won't, though. I want to kill you with my own two hands." D1 put down the megaphone, and picked up a harpoon with a rope attached to the end of it. He threw it at the boat, and slid down the rope. He grabbed Phelous by the throat with his right hand.
"Time to die now, and I'm taking all of you unfunny jackasses with him!"
"Luke, get off the boat now! I can hold him off."
As if to make what Phelous said pointless, the Phelous mob started running towards the Lukes.
"Should have been quicker." Said Luke, firing and hitting three Phelouses in the head at once. "Ringo, Wretch, grab that table. We're gonna need something to get us to Chicago. How far is Chicago from here, anyway?"
"Two days to the south, like I said." Said a muffled voice from the other side of the bridge door. A metallic scraping sound came from the door.
Wretch and Ringo picked up the table and threw it out the window, it landing with a splash on the sea below. Philip ran over to see what the scraping was. It was a compass that the captain had slid under the door. He threw it at Luke, who caught it in his right hand.
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it." Said the captain. "Just make sure the story stays interesting."
And with that, the Lukes jumped out of the window onto the table.
"Guess it's time to die then." Said Phelous, reaching for a grenade that he had in his pocket. D1 looked at it with fear, as did the Phelous mob. Phelous pulled the pin and dropped the grenade.
"Geronimo."
And with that, the entire boat exploded, the shockwave sending Luke's table speeding forward, albeit in the wrong direction.
"Quick everyone! Help me steer this thing." Said Luke, just as he looked around and saw that he was alone again.
"Hey, Luke." Said Ringo inside his mind. "Don't worry, you'll be able to steer it yourself. Just tilt to the right and you'll eventually be pointing the right way."
Luke did this, evening out and heading south towards the U.S. As he paddled forward, he pondered over how Phelous had sacrificed himself to save him. But then he remembered how Phelous could regenerate, and immediately felt okay again. Then he remembered how the Doctor had died permanently from drowning one time and how that could happen to Phelous and became sad again.
"Dammit, Philip!"
"Hey, I'm just being realistic here."
And with that melancholy thought echoing in his brain, he continued onwards to Chicago, hoping that he would make it to the others before it was too late.
Insane giggling echoed through the base. Vyce had no real liking for it, and hearing it in stereo only made it worse.
"The modifications are nearly complete, master!" Said Insano, connecting the wires between the robot's legs and torso.
"Nearly is not good enough!" Said Vyce, slamming his fist down. "I went through a lot of effort to steal that arm from the Champion. I want this android up and running NOW!"
"Calm down, you big baby! It's almost done." Said Linksano, connecting the last few wires between the torso and the head. A red light went off in the robot's eye.
Excellent! Now we just need one last tweak to set off his motor!" Said Linksano, grabbing a piece of paper from the side of him, and waving it in front of the robot's face. It was a snapshot of Linkara.
The robot's eyes squinted slightly, trying to make the image out. His hands started curling up into fists, his jaw clinched. He reached out his fist and punched Linksano across the room.
"Ah." Sighed Vyce, a grim happiness creeping out of his voice. "Now with the android up and running, it is time to contact my forces in the other reality. We're going to need my army to fight the Champion and his allies."
"Sure thing, Lord Vyce. I'll get right on that, right after I peel Linksano off the wall." Insano walked over to Linksano and helped him up.
"Mommy," Said Linksano, in a way that could almost make you see the birds circling around his head, "I want to ride on the merry-go-round now."
"Sure thing, we'll go on the merry-go-round." Said Insano, grudgingly. "Right after you help me open a dimensional rift in the fabric of the universe that an army could fit through."
"Promise?"
"Yeah, sure. Now get back to work!" Insano then slapped Linksano across the face, which shook away the birds.
"Sorry about that. I must have lapsed off there for a second." Said Linksano, still slurring slightly but coherent enough not to think he was 5 years old again. "Let's get back to it."
While the Sanos got to work on the rift, Vyce started uploading combat data into Mechakara's brain circuitry. Mechakara was going to become ten times the fighter he was before, and Linkara had better be ready for him.