Eternal Rivals
Summary: Even with civilization falling to pieces around them, Zim was determined that they continue their deadly game, that Dib never diverted his attentions, and that his young rival remained the same enemy he met so long ago.
(A/N): One reviewer almost got it right, I referenced the song by a parody song by "Weird" Al entitled "Since You've Been Gone." Although it doesn't exactly fit the characters—unless Dib got a sudden deathwish and sang this—the title just absolutely tickled me.
Chapter Four was a doozy. Something about transferring from the two characters I've been focusing on from the start to throwing them back into a larger crowd of people, I suppose. Although Zim definitely and snugly fits the role of the main boss, I decided that the story needed more enemies. Though don't worry, I'm not going to make up new characters willy-nilly—that would be just a bit ridiculous to keep track of at this point—since there are still some familiar issues Dib will have to face.
-"Wake up, our life is calling! We're smoke, but not on fire. Give us a sign that we're alive. Snap out of indecision. How we've been hypnotized to think that everything's alright! The clock is counting down...(The clock is counting down)...The seconds tick away...(The seconds tick away)...This is our time. Without a doubt. Time to ignite. We're not going down without a fight!"—Hoobastank, Without a Fight
Over six years...I'm...eighteen?
Well, that was a staggering thought.
Dib couldn't speak at first, as he had no idea what to say to such a statement, even if he suspected something similar. No matter what the boy had prepared himself for, hearing the truth spoken aloud from his sister's mouth was enough to give him pause and kill any thoughts he'd been about to give words to.
A good chunk of his life was effectively halted in place.
The chance to grow up had been stolen from him.
And the only thing that Dib could do in response was to silently curse Zim with every fiber of his being.
He didn't know how the alien managed to force him to stop showing his age, but it was undoubtedly his fault (somehow, and the boy had yet to figure out how though) and Dib was determined to defy him now more than ever.
But before the boy could open his mouth to reply, there was an ominous rumble and the escape pod rocked violently as something collided with the outer hull, sending them into a sudden corkscrew dive. Dib squawked and seized ahold of the seat and tried to avoid landing on his injured wrist, rolling into Gaz and righting himself as she shoved him quickly back over to his side. His sister's eyes had hardened into stone-like anger and settled fiercely on the sky again, hands gripping the vessel's joystick so tightly that her hands turned white with strain. Just as she managed to pull their ship out of its violent nosedive, several dark shapes zoomed around the small Irken escape ship and one of them emitted a ray of blindingly red light that just missed clipping them along the side.
Dib's eyes widened as he took in the sight of them, blurred black shapes that let loose a very distinctive sound of roaring engines. They were ships, but not a trace of the typical purple graced their metal sides. Plus the shape was not even remotely similar, with sharp spiky extensions covering the surface of the ships and leaving behind slipstreams of brilliant crimson with every maneuvering twist and curve.
These were not Irken ships like Zim's, that was for sure.
Gaz's reaction to the pursuers was quite different however and much more intense.
As soon as she saw the viciously spiked spaceships whizzing around them, the young woman slammed one hand upon the wide dashboard and cursed colorfully, pulling the shaking joystick around and attempting to out-maneuver the larger yet obviously speedier vessels. "Shit! Get off my ass you bastards!" And while Dib was briefly distracted by staring at his sister's blatant cursing, the escape pod spun into crazed loops that would've made a person less experienced with near-death situations and the blatant disregard for safety promptly vomit. Unfortunately for the pair, the coal black ships kept up the pace easily, and the twisted, clawed forms vaguely resembling hideously deformed lobsters seemed to open up pincer-esque wings as if to snatch them right out of the sky.
"What the heck are those things!?" Dib yelled over the engine's roar as one of the dark ships whirled uncomfortably close to the point where the boy could even see the clouded red window where the driver must have sat, his hand tightening unintentionally around his throbbing arm instinctively. Gaz didn't answer him directly, her teeth clenched and brown irises burning with a rage Dib recognized from the old days in which he'd made the mistake of pissing her off. But despite his sister's incredible piloting skills, they were far outnumbered and the enemy was far faster, weaving complex circles around them.
"Figures he'd send them..." Gaz muttered, more to herself than to Dib, jaw set as she found the opposing ships drawing closer and catching up with every second. Although it didn't really answer his question, the implications lingering behind the low words was a bit shocking.
"He? Was it Zim? Did he send those things after me?" No reply, but there was no need for one this time.
Perhaps those crazy experiments his nemesis was always performing actually amounted to something after all.
Though, considering the alien's track record, Dib doubted this idea immediately. He'd seen some pretty destructive creations made by his enemy, like a monstrous and constantly growing city-consuming hamster which eventually ended up turning on him. Because no matter how dangerous and man-eating they often were, the one usually the most threatened by those various experiments, in addition to the intended target—usually Dib of course—was Zim himself.
But that was all just assumption and conjecture and Dib hated to jump to the wrong conclusions, which was why he usually prepared for the worst when it came to his enemy, and expected to receive more than he got. Maybe the invader had learned from his mistakes, perfected designs and monsters that were dreadfully flawed before, but there was no way to tell as of yet.
Or maybe—and this was an even worse thought—Zim had managed to make some mysterious allies.
It wasn't the first time that some other alien race had arrived on Earth to interfere with their deadly game, from the incredibly moronic collector pair to the polite but ultimately unwanted intrusion from the Plookesians, but none of them had shown an interest in conquering the planet as well. And even though she had turned out to be an enemy, Tak had despised Zim for reasons which Dib never actually found out, regardless of the fact that she was also an Irken.
Still, whether or not these guys were on Zim's side, it didn't change the fact that they were surrounding the vulnerable little escape pod and verging on knocking it out of the sky.
"Shit...surrounded..." Gaz's voice had a disappointed tone to it, her hands loosening on the controls and her dull gaze told the boy that she didn't think that fancy flying alone would be enough to get them to safety this time. During the chase they had dropped significantly in altitude—with precious little space between them and the earth below—but the pursuers didn't seem bothered by the lack of height and followed without difficulty. Curiously, the black ships didn't open fire and blast them to oblivion like Dib had half-expected would happen to them, but small ports flipped open on the underbelly of the vessels to reveal attachments shaped disturbingly similar to harpoons, carefully aiming at the outer edges of the pod and Gaz sucked in her breath upon recognizing them. However, the utter silence in the still air and complete lack of fiery, burning doom told Dib all that he really needed to know.
They're not going to kill us... The realization floated into the surface of Dib's mind like something dead and unpleasant, remembering that his nemesis would never allow him to just die so easily at someone else's hands. They're going to haul us back to the ship and...I'll say goodbye to freedom...again.
Every fiber of the boy's body railed against the idea, and he immediately told—panicked and started to yell actually—his sister to avoid them, to do SOMETHING to stop this from happening again.
Gaz just didn't bother to respond to him, staring blankly at the joystick at her hand as though never seeing it before, and wouldn't even meet his gaze.
It was almost as though her body simply shut down at the thought that even her piloting skills wasn't enough to get them to safety.
But there was no way that Dib was going to just lay down and give up after what he'd been through.
He lunged for the joystick, trying to pry it out of his sister's hands while the both of them started to scream and yell at each other, at least making an effort to escape. He wasn't going back there! Not without a fight and Dib wasn't even sure of what half of the words coming out of his mouth were as he shouted back at Gaz, desperation beginning to set in. The pod rocked from side to side in the air, but nothing more as the two siblings fought for control over the vessel.
They were so consumed with the struggle that both of them almost missed the nearby explosion.
Almost, but not quite.
A small container was flung end over end flashed through the air faster than Dib could keep track of, smashing into the side of one of the dark ships and bursting with a sudden conflagration that spewed bright orange flames licking along the side of the hull. Several more followed, a few hitting the same ship and others spread around, and a couple of the bombs simply missed entirely—spinning lazily into ground with a rumbling blast along with the rapid pings of what sounded like bullets.
Though the primitive explosions didn't cause much damage other than small cracks and dents upon the thick hull plating, they were at least sufficiently distracting, and the twisted ships swiveled towards where the bombs had come from. As they turned though, the source of the attacks was already speeding away, and Dib found that the shapes greatly resembled cars driving with reckless abandon. Provided with the perfect opening, Gaz snatched back the joystick from his paralyzed hands and the pod spun forward, clipping one of the ships and tearing off a few chunks of metal with a hideous screech. The battered and beaten Irken ship spiraled out of the ring of pursuers, following the specks in the distance responsible for their escape that rapidly became clearer and clearer.
Thankfully for the pair, this time the chase was much shorter.
The black vessels abruptly spun back as they followed the group of vehicles, entering a city that appeared very dilapidated and practically abandoned, but the signs of distant lights and fires on the horizon showed that people still lived there. Wheeling back from where they came from, the unknown enemy disappeared and left the escapee in the span of a few seconds. Gaz's face seemed to have recovered from whatever shock she seemed to have gone through in their helplessness before and was now smirking bitterly at the pursuers' departure, "Those bastards wouldn't dare follow us here..."
By now the temporary shock of hearing his "little sister" cursing had worn off, though it was still odd to him.
It reminded him that though her personality hadn't changed much, time had still passed.
And not just his sister either, but everything he saw was so utterly different.
Worst of was the city itself, scarred and broken, a ruin of crumbling buildings and burn wounds carved into the blackened heaps of earth below. While it was true that it was never the most attractive or pleasant creation, it was still deeply painful to see the works of mankind to be toppled so suddenly. Not only that, but the fact that these strange and unknown entities were lurking so close was anything but relaxing.
Despite having absolutely no idea exactly what those things were supposed to be and feeling woefully in the dark, Dib decided to ask what she meant by that, "Why wouldn't they follow us?"
"Our territory," Gaz mumbled and gestured with a jerk of her head at the crudely constructed barrier around a less derelict portion of the city center, built with a mixture of sheet metal and wood planks welded together. Less than impressive and showed signs of being rebuilt, but Dib spotted sentries posted in regular intervals along the barrier, holding primitive patched up rifles and bearing cheaply made Molotov cocktails strapped to their belts. The disappointment must have showed on his face because Gaz just shook her head and whispered grimly, "We're survivors, not a resistance, Dib. We have enough basic weaponry and move around enough to avoid capture or destruction, but not much else."
The boy slumped a little in his seat, the temporary rise of knowing that others on Earth were fighting his enemy just about vanished from his mind, "So what now, then?"
"Well, I guess that's where you come in," Her voice was dull but Dib instantly jerked around to give her another questioning stare, very curious to find out what that was supposed to mean.
Before he could continue, the boy was distracted by the escape pod dropping in altitude, coming to a slow and cautious landing in the middle of a large clearing near the front gates of the survivors' territory. She pressed a few buttons with tired hands and the hatch sprung open, and the acrid smell of smoke and burning rubber hit Dib like a sack of bricks. The guards standing atop the gate relaxed upon seeing Gaz in the driver's seat, lowering weapons that Dib couldn't really see carefully, but their faces creased with confusion when their faces came to rest on the other in the passenger seat.
Gaz ignored them for the moment, sliding out of the pod and gesturing for her brother to follow after. He did so quickly, but kept one hand wrapped around his wrist, not meeting the gaze of the people that he knew would be staring at him. His sister led him to the spiked gates and yelled something coarse at the gatekeepers, who immediately ran to open the creaking doors to allow them entry, and a brief walk brought them into the heart of the resistance base while Gaz mumbled curses about black ships and Zim. Dib was too focused on his injury, which had started bleeding through the bandage from where it had been jostled during their aerial chase, and trying to avoid tripping over the shrapnel from some previous battle scattered seemingly at random all around.
Eventually she led him to a large building in the center of the base whose windows were barred with a combination of thick wood and barbed wire, and covered with a layer of black spray paint. It was hard to recognize the feeling at first, but Dib was almost certain that he'd been to this place sometime before, give or take the reinforced entrances and exits of course. It wasn't until Gaz pulled him into the hallways that the realization actually clicked, "Hey, this is school, isn't it? You guys turned this into a home base?"
"Yeah, it was convenient," She mumbled in a way that almost sounded sarcastic, passing a few doors and heading upstairs until they came to an office with a marked out placard hanging above the entrance. As he got closer, Dib could see that the words "Teacher's Lounge" had been scratched out on the sign and the title "Command Center" was scrawled below in large, red lettering that was easy for him to read even in his current state. Mildly curious, Dib found himself driven to start poking around and exploring, having never actually stepped into the teacher's longue before.
Old school files had been boxed up and shoved uncaringly into the corner, giving the circular room a size larger than a typical classroom, with the addition of recently cleaned chairs and tables of much higher quality than the boy was used to. A large sleek monitor took up the better part of one wall, though whether it was a TV or a computer screen was not immediately apparent, the black surface occasionally flashed with mild static. The ceiling light showed signs of having been smashed out and was replaced by a brilliant black-light bulb that cast a purplish-blue glow on everything, and Dib found it comfortable.
Gaz crossed the chamber to a large desk along the far wall, upon which rested a suspiciously clean silver briefcase and clicked it open with a quick flick of her fingers along the latches. "You'll probably want these," Gesturing him over, Dib stared as she placed a familiar pair of circular glasses into his cupped hands. "They're not the originals of course, but these should work just as well."
"Where...?" The glasses still didn't really feel real without an explanation how Gaz got ahold of them.
"I salvaged them from our house, along with a few other things," She shook her head, walking back behind the desk and sitting down into a swivel chair that she almost seemed to sink into. Looking at her like this, Dib found himself wondering just how much work and energy she had to exert in order to rescue him from the Dreadnaught before, and who knows how dangerous it was to even get home now with the whole city at least turned into a battleground. He stared down at the frames in his grasp, and how they almost appeared to glitter in the light, before taking a slow breath and putting them on. He almost instantly had to seize a hold of the table as the world came into focus suddenly, so used to being unable to see that the return to good vision was nothing short of a shock to his senses. Pausing for a few moments, Dib let his eyes adjust to the difference, gaze coming to a rest on the opened briefcase.
"The rest of that is your stuff too," Gaz mumbled, gesturing simply and leaned back in the chair with her eyes closed, seeming to fall into slumber. Dib wanted to ask if she was alright, or if she had been injured without him knowing about it during their escape, but instinct told him to let her rest this time. He still had a lot of questions to ask his sister, but they could wait now that his feet were on solid ground again.
When he peered inside, his jaws dropped upon seeing the garment inside. It was his old trench coat, remarkably well preserved considering how much time had passed, and complete with all the stitch work of repairs he remembered doing in the past whenever scuffles with Zim had caused damage. Holding up the lucky coat, Dib dimly recalled how he had left it behind the day that Zim had captured him, choosing to don some carefully selected stealth gear instead. Overtaken by emotion, he immediately pulled on the signature coat, relishing the feel of the smooth material against his arms.
"I'm never letting go of this thing again," Dib whispered quietly, and for the first time since his escape, truly felt ready to confront his rival once again.
(A/N): Of course he was going the signature coat back. Seriously, who expected any differently?
A picture of the black ships can be found on my deviantart account.