The Zimventures #5
Salvation
Chapter 1:
"Hey, Stop That Guy!"
"Hey, stop that guy!"
Zim looked up just in time to see the two owners of the phone booth emerging from the Circle K with armfuls of Flamin' Hot Cheetos and 5-Hour Energy shots. Through the crackling energy all around him, he watched them running to catch up, but it was too late. The ground opened up and swallowed the phone booth. The last thing Zim saw before he rode the wormholes between space and time was the blond kid throwing what seemed like a rock at him. It clearly made impact with the antenna above him, but it did nothing to stop the movement.
Zim felt his guts press up against his throat as he hurtled back to the past. He screamed, gripping the glass walls around him to prevent himself from being shaken around like a bearing in a pinball machine. Finally his system couldn't take it anymore, and he heaved up his most recent meal in ropy clumps. The force of the booth then shook the puke around, splashing it all over Zim until he looked like a skinny Pizza the Hutt. He gagged as some of it got back in his mouth. His hands slid around, and he fell into the grungy puddle forming on the floor.
The tube opened up, and he saw through the smeared walls of the booth that he was now falling from the sky. Below was what at first looked like deserted wasteland, but as he came closer he saw there were a few buildings. It almost looked like Front Street in Dodge City. Had he finally done something right?
The phone booth crashed down, and energy crackled about before fading away. He pushed the door open and collapsed into the dust, gasping in fresh air.
"Jesus Christ, son! What the fuck happened to you?"
Zim looked up to see cowboy boots filling his vision. Then he cast his gaze up and saw the rest of the person standing over him. This guy looked nothing like the people he saw back in the Old West. He was more of a modern cowboy. The idea was reinforced by the Jeep behind him.
Zim blinked. "You look kind of like Kevin Bacon. A lot like him, actually."
"Who's Kevin Bacon?"
"He's an actor."
Another modern cowboy approached. "I don't think anyone's ever called Valentine McGee here an actor," he said. "This sumbitch's too ugly."
"Come to think of it, you look a lot like Fred Ward," Zim said.
"He an actor, too?"
"Yeah."
"Well, you'll never look like an actor," Valentine said. "You need a bath. And new clothes. You hiking through here?"
Zim turned to the phone booth, and then he realized they would never believe him. "Yeah. Just hiking."
"Got any money?"
Zim reached into his pocket and came up with nothing but lint. Maybe this was for the best. He remembered when he'd showed his money to Marshal Dillon, and he didn't want a replay of that.
"Shit, it don't cost much money around here," Valentine said. "Here's a few bucks. Get some clothes and a bath, hear?"
Zim took the money, relieved to find that it looked like his. "Yes. Thank you."
"Take care now."
"You, too."
Zim watched the two wander off, and it seemed like they were arguing. The guy who looked like Fred Ward, whose name was Earl, was pissed that Valentine was always giving bums money. They paused at the Jeep, and they quickly rock-paper-scissored for who was going to drive. Valentine won, and he got in.
Zim then turned to the phone booth and saw that the antenna had been damaged. One of the tongs was bent, and he wondered if that was the reason he'd wound up here instead of in the past. He noticed that there was something tangled in the other tongs. The blond kid hadn't thrown a rock at him. It was a 5-Hour Energy.
"Cool." He stood on tiptoes to retrieve it. "Maybe this isn't all that bad."
He downed the drink before he headed toward the general store, a place called Chang's. On the way he noticed a giant wooden water tower. It said SALVATION across it in chipped white paint. The symbolism was lost on Zim.
After talking with the clerk for a minute Zim grabbed a new set of clothes and paid for them and a bath. He considered getting a room for the night—it had been a long hard journey, after all, and he could definitely take a break from action and the Zardoz future—but he knew that the sooner he got to work on saving Mad Dog DD, the sooner he could go back to the future and get to sleep in his own bed.
The bathhouse was just like the one in Dodge City, metal tub and all. According to a newspaper he'd glimpsed, the year was 1990. Did modern people still live like this? He didn't care. The water was warm, and the suds were already thick. He got out of his scummy clothes and sank into the bath, a dumb smile on his face. He closed his eyes and relaxed.
Softly he started banging out a song on the metal tub with his knuckles. In the distance he heard a rumble, but this was the west. He figured it was buffalo or something.
Except it was getting louder.
The clerk shouted, "Graboid!"
What the fuck is that? Zim wondered. He decided he didn't care, and he continued to drum out his tune.
The hardwood floor beneath him cracked, and a chunk of it fell away. Zim whipped his head around to see what was happening only to see the biggest fucking worm he'd ever seen sticking its head out of the hole. Its giant jaws opened, and a set of smaller worms lashed out, grabbing the edge of the bathtub, pulling him closer to the hole.
