Sea of Green
by Zebeckras
A/N: This took me a while and it's a little longer than the other chapters. I actually wrote it and then removed about 500 or 600 words to try to tighten it a little, not sure it worked. Oh well. So please, I have a favour to ask. If you read this, PLEASE review, even just a little note to let me know you're reading. I need the encouragement to keep my momentum going on the fic, which I'm still hoping to finish by the end of 2010. Please? I'll really appreciate it... I'm not getting a ton of feedback these days and it's a muse-killer as I'm sure any writer can relate to. Thanks! Hope you like!
Chapter 2 act II
The sun rose in a clear sky that morning in St. Canard. One pair of eyes alone watched it come up, although he was surrounded by several hundred of his friends, with more close at hand.
Bushroot thought it was the most beautiful sunrise he'd ever seen. The range of colours was phenomenal, and the light as it hit the verdant green of the city... it was just inspiring.
Of course, the company he was in didn't hurt the moment, either.
Basking in the rays of the early morning sun, feeling his leaves unfurl and drink in the light, Bushroot smiled. When the plants around him began to cheer him, some of them taking up a chant of his name, he smiled even wider, nodding modestly in response to their cries.
"Aw c'mon, guys, this was a group effort. No, really, I didn't do that much..."
He had though, and he knew it. St. Canard belonged to the plants now, and it would forever, if he had any say in it. The people rejected him; they made it clear that he wasn't wanted. Well, fine. Bushroot knew now where he belonged, and he had plenty of friends in the plant kingdom who wanted him around.
But that didn't mean he'd give up his rights to the city without a fight.
He could encourage plants within range of his thoughts to grow already, but with a little growth formula in the city's water supply, his range was extended to the city limits. Within less than an hour during the night, the city had been overgrown; almost no sign remained of a single manmade surface. It was all green, all growing; all peaceful and vegetative.
And the people of St. Canard could stay inside their hoity-toity houses and learn what it felt like to be relegated to a window sill and forgotten about except for a once-a-week watering session.
"Kids," Bushroot said loudly, gesturing at the expanse of open space that had been the main street of downtown St. Canard, "this is for you! Let's have fun!"
As he walked down the street, shrubs cavorted and flowers danced. Bushroot was among his people.
Beth awoke only after she'd slid out of the chair she'd slept most of the night in, and landed heavily on the floor. In a panic she stood back up, not quite sure where she was, half-convinced she was still at the Mallard house. She looked around the poorly-lit back room of Bindler's in confusion before she realized what she'd been doing; after looking down at the inventory list that she'd had her cheek stuck to for the past few hours and verifying that she hadn't done anything so awful as drooling on it, she breathed evenly to compose herself.
Okay. So she'd fallen asleep - at work, which was just pathetic - and lost a little time to get the inventory done. No big deal. She could still finish before the store opened. She still had - she checked the clock on the desk, and stopped as her stomach hit her shoes. Nine o'clock? Was it really almost nine?
She pushed the door to the front of the store open a crack and found it dark. No light came through the windows; other than the emergency light at the cash register the store was unlit. She relaxed a little. So it was still nighttime - or at least, early morning - she should have at least another two hours, which was time to finish the inventory.
But what had happened to the clock? She wondered about that as she picked up the clipboard with the list and tried to force herself to pick up the count where she had left off. Had it stopped? It was still ticking now, and she noticed that it was two minutes later than it had been when she'd woken up. Why would it still be keeping time?
It bothered her enough that she decided to call an information number and check the time that way. She put down the inventory clipboard yet again, and dialed.
"At the tone," said the measured, pre-recorded voice, "the time will be 8:52, and ten seconds." There was a beep.
For the first few moments this didn't make any sense to Beth at all; it might as well have been in another language. All she could do was sit at the desk and listen to the voice continue to announce the time, punctuated by the tinny beeps; and finally, at 8:53 and fifty seconds, she slowly hung up the phone, her stomach full of dread.
Something was wrong. Something was really wrong and it wasn't with the clock.
She stood up and walked back to the door that led to the front of the store. Slowly - almost fearfully - she pushed the door open, a little bit at a time, as though she was afraid of what force she would find on the other side.
Blinking at the darkness that met her, she thought of 'The Raven' by Poe - darkness there, and nothing more - and felt a chill. But when she waited for her eyes to adjust, she realized that the darkness was not complete; there were spots against the glass where light - sunlight - was seeping in. And once she stepped fully into the front of the store and let the door close behind her, she saw the outlines of whatever was pressing against the glass. It wasn't darkness that was greeting her, it was a smothered absence of light.
Beth was not claustrophobic, but she felt like maybe today was the day to start.
She fumbled for the phone behind the cash register desk, trying to fight down her rising panic, and she had only knocked two or three things off of the counter surface before she found what she was looking for. Upon lifting the receiver, the dial tone drilled into her ear as her mind went blank and she couldn't rouse the number she'd been intending to call. She stood stock still until the dial tone cut off and was replaced with an angry beeping; with a jolt she put the receiver back down.
Who had she been intending to call...? The police maybe?
But what would she tell them? If she said that she was stuck inside her hardware store this morning they'd probably laugh at her. And they'd almost certainly ask what had stuck her in there, and she honestly had no idea at the moment; no, she wasn't going to call the police, and she was pretty sure that had never been her intention.
Henny. It was Henny she'd been about to call: Henny would need to know why the store couldn't be opened on time and maybe she could call the police and talk to them and take care of all those things that Beth preferred not to have to do.
She knew Henny's home number by heart, from all the times she'd had to call to see if her boss was on her way to her shift yet; her fingers were trembling lightly as she dialed, but she was a little more together than she had been.
Henny's phone rang five or six times before there was an answer. When her manager spoke, Beth recognized a kind of tense edge to the voice, but she couldn't place the reason - unless Henny already knew what had happened to the store, though Beth couldn't see how that would have happened. She said, "Um, hello, yes, this is Beth? Um, Henny?"
"Yeeees," said Henny, her voice now sounding both on edge and exasperated at the same time.
Struggling to make polite conversation and not just let her panic burst out of her mouth, Beth said, "Um, I'm sorry, did I - did I wake you up? I, I thought it was nearly 9:00 but I realize that this might still be considered early for you what with your schedule and all so-"
"Oh, for God's sake," Henny said slowly. "What, Beth, whaaaat?"
"Oh." Beth cleared her throat. "Um. Well, there might be a slight problem with opening the store today, and I just wanted you to know..."
There was a long pause. Finally Henny said, "You're kidding, right?"
"I'm sorry - I mean it's not actually my fault, it's not even in my control but I did-"
"Do you mean to say that you don't even know what's goin' on out there?" Henny said, her voice rising dramatically at the end of the sentence; Beth's own sentence came to a sudden halt, and they were both silent.
Finally, Beth asked softly, "What do you mean?"
"You're not the only one stuck inside, dummy," Henny said, her tone biting. "The TV's out but the radio has a few stations broadcasting and they're saying it's all over the city."
Beth couldn't ask anything more, so she just waited for Henny to continue. Henny did so, with great relish. "It all happened in the night," she said, "they think somewhere around 2 or so. And now everyone's stuck inside, with no access to the outside..."
"I-is it a bomb?" Beth asked fearfully.
Henny snorted. "No! What, have you not even looked outside?" She didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "Some kinda freak plant growth all over the place. Every building, every structure in the city is covered in giant vines. If you actually go open a window you'll see it. What the heck is the problem, you haven't heard ANY of this or even looked outside?"
"There's no radio here at the store, and the windows in the front don't open," Beth said defensively; she immediately wished she hadn't, but prayed that maybe Henny wouldn't notice.
No such luck. "At the store? You're at the store?" She sounded about to laugh. "What did you do, sleep there?"
"I- OH, look at that... thing! I better go see what that is!" Beth said loudly. "Bye!" Cringing at her own poor excuse, she hung up the phone and stood in thought for one moment. Trapped, then... The whole city was trapped. Trapped by...
Plants?
After a showing of the latest Bruin Pitt movie for a few of the roses and begonias in his group, Bushroot and his friends left the theatre for the outdoors. The morning was in full swing and the streets were still empty, as he hoped they would stay.
How likely was it, he wondered? Could he really keep all of the citizens of St. Canard locked up forever?
Spike nudged him with his head, and made an inquiring growl.
"Huh? Oh, nothing... just thinking happy thoughts," Bushroot said pleasantly. "Like, you know... everything staying just like this, forever - just us and no one else to deal with..."
A box pine at his left pointed out the unlikelihood of that daydream working out.
"You really think someone will figure out a way to escape? I mean, we've got things wrapped up pretty tight..."
No matter, the pine argued. Eventually someone was bound to come up with something. They'd be trying, after all. They might even call someone in from outside of the city.
"Sheesh, good point. Hey, can we get the bridge tied up, too?" Bushroot called to anyone nearby who was listening, and he knew it would be taken care of. But it was a quick, and temporary, fix; locking up the bridge might keep people out for a while but it wouldn't do anything to keep the prisoners in.
And when someone did get out and try to spoil his fun, Bushroot had a pretty good idea who that person would be. He'd need to head it off by being prepared; he decided to assign lookouts, and have them bring any non-plants straight to Bushroot to be dealt with. "Hey guys," he said to a batch of young, energetic saplings who were roughhousing with each other nearby, "I got a job for you."
Beth had turned on a light, but she hated the way it made the store look. The vines pressing against the window were thick - thicker than any vines she'd ever seen, outside of photographs - and with the lights on inside the building it made the space seem smaller. In fact, it made the whole store look like a stage, or like an oversized dollhouse. It didn't look real. She turned the light back off and closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, she was already on her way across the room, heading for the front door. She was hurrying; she made herself slow down. She unlocked the door carefully, took hold of the handle, and took a deep breath before pulling.
The door came open easily enough, and she felt a momentary burst of relief, as if this was all that was needed. But of course it wasn't; of course, once the door was open, she was facing a wall of vines as thick as her wrist. She reached out cautiously and, after a moment's hesitation, pushed at the vines gently. They were taut and barely gave when she touched them. They were also slightly warm, which surprised her.
She stepped back, letting the door close. She could try the back door but she was sure she'd just find the same thing, and anyway, the back door opened outward.
It was starting to look like she'd just have to wait to be freed - and she had no idea when that would happen. Whose responsibility was it to cut everyone out of massive plant overgrowth? Did that fall on the city government, she wondered? She realized she was staring blankly at the door, and shook herself out of it. "Okay," she said aloud, and her voice rang strangely in the empty, dark store. It was enough to snap her back into herself. "Okay, stay focused. There's a way out of here. There has to be."
She looked around suddenly. "Garden section!" she said in a sudden gasp, and she darted into the middle section of the store. She found a pair of pruning shears, considered the thickness, of the vines, and tossed them aside in favour of a much larger set of clippers. A glance told her that these would do the job, albeit a little slowly; but then, what else did she have but time?
It might've worked. She never found out, because as she was settling the blades around one of the vines, another one snaked out and wrapped itself around the clipper handles, then pulled them from her hands. She gasped and stepped backwards, not quite believing what she was seeing; the vine brandished the clippers at her threateningly, then tossed them to the side. She vaguely heard them hit the paint cans and knock some over.
The door swung shut as the vine wound itself back among its compatriots. The little bell over the shop rang out once.
"I didn't see that," Beth said weakly. "That couldn't have happened."
That was it. She had to get out of the store, quickly, or she was going to have a breakdown. She returned to the garden section once more and found an axe. It was almost certain to do the job, but...
The thought of the vine threatening her with the clippers (whether it had truly happened or not) was enough to keep her from picking up the axe. She retreated from the sharp-edged garden tools and leaned on the counter, letting her head touch the surface. She hugged her elbows and thought as hard as she could.
Herbicide. Fire. Pestilence, plague, insects. All stupid - the ones she actually had access to could hurt her, as well. And knowing how they'd hurt her, she didn't really want to use them on anything else that was alive, even a plant... even a plant that was holding her hostage within a building.
She sat up suddenly. The Bindler's building had two stories. And the second story had a skylight. Maybe...
Probably not, but... it was worth checking...
When she got up to the attic, she saw the light streaming in. It was blessedly bright. She scrambled to find a stool or a chair, and then fumbled with the locks on the skylight until she was able to push it open. Then with a huge effort, she pulled herself up and through the window and onto the roof.
She took deep breaths, as if she had been drowning, and turned her face up to the sun for a few moments. She felt like she'd been underground. Finally she got to her feet and looked in either direction down the road.
Every building in sight was swathed in green. The vines weren't covering the rooftops in the retail district, but they covered everything else. It was an ocean of plants. No one was going to be able to cut people out of this any time soon, but now that Beth had found her way out, she supposed she could offer her services to rescue parties... or something, anyway.
"I wonder what time it is..?" she asked herself quietly. It felt encouraging to hear a voice, even her own, so she decided to keep speaking out loud. "I guess it doesn't matter, but... it feels like it's been hours since I woke up but I bet it hasn't. Boy, as if I needed more proof that Einstein was right..." She sighed and crossed her arms.
"So now... now that I'm up here, how do I get down?" She looked down; it was a long way. "Maybe - I'll just wait for the rescue parties to find me. I mean... it can't take that long, right?"
The silence really bothered her, though. She realized that she'd been expecting to hear sirens and maybe even loudspeakers blaring instructions; instead it was just so quiet. There was no sign of any rescue parties at all, and besides that, she was lonely - and hungry.
And she was beginning to feel anxious. She looked up and down the street again. "I wonder if anyone else is in this area. I guess not, I mean, who else would sleep in their store but me?" She looked again, for lack of anything better to do, and to keep putting off the inevitability of climbing down off the roof. It didn't work, and after a few minutes she had to talk herself through a terrifying journey down the vines that had encircled the building. When she was finally back on solid ground, she gave herself a few moments to stop shaking, and then she just started walking aimlessly.
Within five minutes she was lost. "Nice one," she told herself. "You didn't pay close enough attention, did you?" In all honesty, it was almost impossible to pay close enough attention to keep from getting lost, and she knew it. Everything looked the same; there were virtually no landmarks. She sighed loudly. "Oh well, not like I knew where I was going in the first place..."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement; she turned towards it jubilantly, ready to call out, even as she felt a flush of embarrassment at getting caught talking to herself.
But the words died on the tip of her tongue, as she nothing but a few oversized bushes in the spot where she'd thought she'd seen something move. Her brow furrowed as she frowned. She was turning back to resume her travel when she heard something rustle, and she half-registered that the rustle was right in front of her before she saw the large tree in front of her. She gasped, and when it swung its limbs back before it slammed them into her, she had enough time for a brief scream. Then everything was dark again.
They'd been at the FunVille amusement park for about two hours by this point, and everyone was having a great time. The crowd was getting a little rowdy, in fact; they'd trashed about half the park, and Bushroot was sort of surprised that no one seemed to care a whole lot about picking up after themselves. They hadn't cared for the gentle suggestion that maybe everyone slow down and just think about not smashing the windows on the indoor rides, so Bushroot had let the topic drop and just left everyone to have fun.
Spike was even off somewhere - probably on his fourth turn around on the carrousel - and Bushroot was surprised by how lonely he felt. Sure, it was better than trying to go out among people; no one here was screaming or running from him. In fact, everyone here loved him and accepted him.
But they weren't the same as him. Even though all the plants that he'd given his growth serum to were capable of independent movement, just like him, they still weren't like him. He was still the only one who could speak, and the only one who could really even think in terms of language. He was still on a brain level far above them, and though he didn't hold it against them, he could see it just by walking among them.
Maybe it would never be enough, he thought soberly. Maybe, no matter how many plants he surrounded himself with, it would never be the same as human contact. But he would never strive for human contact again; he wasn't like them, either. Bushroot was his own creature, outside of both worlds.
He was lost in thought when a small group of dandelions caught up with him and gave him the news: They'd found someone.
"What? Really?" Bushroot found that he felt a small sense of relief, but mainly he was panicked and anxious. It had to be Darkwing, and that meant a certain expectation of taunting and exchanging insults. But then again, conversation was conversation, and so Bushroot felt almost a little thankful for it.
He straightened up and tried to look more authoritative, which of course meant losing the self-pity. "Okay, well, bring him here! We'll show him a thing or two! Uh, he is securely tied up and everything, right? Totally unarmed...?" Once he'd been assured that his enemy would pose no threat whatsoever, Bushroot repeated the order: bring him here.
While he waited, he mused over what he should do to Darkwing after they'd had the inevitable "why are you doing this" conversation. He had to keep him out of the way; maybe it was time to use the opportunity and do away with the duck entirely, once and for all. It seemed a bit of a downer on what was supposed to be such a bright day, but really, it was probably for the best... He considered the right way, and was considering something involving the roller coaster and its track when the saplings approached.
He looked up, and noticed at once that the prisoner was not Darkwing. He was so surprised that he spoke out instantly: "Hey, what is this? You're not..." And then he stopped, because in the next second, he knew her. He was sure he knew her, even though he hadn't seen her in nearly a year, and never expected to see her again. If he had still been able to breathe, the breath would have caught in his throat; as it was, the words that came out were something like a whisper.
"Rhoda...?"