Chapter Three: Captive
Thompson's feet hurt, his head ached and his body felt chilled to the bone. Their long hike, at the mercy of the Tulismon, had finally come to an end. They were deep inside a forest to the south of the farmhouse. Thompson had made sure he marked the trip with landmarks in case they were able to escape; he hoped it would be enough. The forest was an eerie place, despite it being mid-fall most of the trees retained their leaves and loomed over the encampment they were entering. Here they found more Tulismon, at least a dozen of them and here they found other creatures working. Every so often one of the smaller Digimon would be whipped by a Tulismon or kicked for not moving fast enough.
Their captors prodded them into the camp through a large wooden gate and slammed the gate shut behind them edging them along with the tip of that deadly spear. The Tulismon lead them through the camp to the other side, all manor of Digimon watched from their cages and chain-gangs as the kids and Patamon were brought to the head Tulismon.
"Well, well, what have we here? Some more Digimon for the workforce," the leader said inspecting them, "these six are mighty strange."
"That's because we're not Digimon," Xander explained, hoping he could reason with the bandit.
"Not Digimon? What kinda not Digimon are you, an alien?" The Tulismon asked with a scoffing tone.
"Well yeah, more or less."
"Then where's your starship, Vademon?" The head Tulismon joked and the others of his kind thought the joke a funny one too.
"We're not Digimon," Xander said, glaring at the creature angrily, "we're humans."
"Humons, aliens, whatever you are you will make excellent workers." The lead Tulismon snarled, "Take them in with the others and get them to work excavating before the boss gets back."
Xander gave a frustrated sigh as they were corralled into the work camp towards a row of squalid cages and shoved inside. The seven of them were cramped into one cave but the Tulismon had cut their bindings leaving their hands free at last. Patamon too was free, he stretched his wings as far as they could go but there would be no flying out of this cage, the bars were far too close together for him to slip through. He landed on Anselm's shoulders and smiled a little when Anselm took him and hugged him. They could see the Tulismon in the distance getting shovels and chains ready for them to join the chain gang. All hearts sunk.
"Great, this is just great," Xander moaned.
"I had no idea this place was here," Patamon said taking a look around, "look how many Digimon there are. There's a Bogmon over there, Gizamon, Floramon. This is just awful."
"Awful is an understatement little guy," Solara said with a gulp as the Tulismon returned to the gate unlocking and throwing the seven out into the camp.
"Get digging!" One of them shouted tossing the shovels down on the ground as another clipped the chains onto their ankles to bind them together.
"What exactly are we digging for?" John asked helping Vera up off the ground.
"No one knows," a nearby Digimon replied. He was about twice Patamon's size, toad-like with four legs and a black purple body and a yellow dorsal ridge as well as several yellow and green spots on his moist amphibious skin.
"Why is that giant toad talking?" Xander asked sticking his shovel into the dirt in an attempt to look busy for the guards.
"That's not a giant toad silly," Patamon corrected, "that's a Bogmon."
"Guess I better get used to all these talking monsters." Xander said with a reluctant sigh, "Hello, Bogmon, how are you?"
"Enslaved."
"Sorry to hear that buddy, us too," Xander replied patting Bogmon on the head but finding it left a sticky residue all over his hand which he desperately tried to wipe off.
"Sorry about that," Bogmon replied with a grin, "now if you'll excuse me I have to get back to work before they whip me."
"This is awful," Vera lamented, "all these little Digimon."
"And us having to do work," John complained as he lifted his third shovel full of dirt.
"I think you'll live richboy, I think you'll live," Xander replied.
They got into a rhythm together after that, removing the soil according to a grid pattern the other Digimon had apparently created. Thompson remembered that they were meant to be excavating and although he had no real intention of pleasing his new Digital overlords he wasn't anxious to see what happened if they failed to produce results. Still, as he bent to examine the soil layer they'd just reached, he was unsure what exactly they were looking for. He hadn't found anything artificial but that failed to bother him. What did bother him was the lack of organic matter, aside from the plant debris from trees and the like there was no animal life below the soil. No bugs. No earthworms. Already the evidence was overwhelming that they were no longer on Earth but if they were on another planet how had they reached it via an ancient staircase? And furthermore where was this planet and why did the alien life forms all speak English?
Thompson stood and returned to shoveling. They had to keep working. Even when they were working at a feverish pace the Tulismon watched them with closely and every so often threatened them with violence, pointing a sword their way or cracking a whip just a few inches away from striking them. Spirits were sinking even lower as the day wore on and the sun slipped lower in the sky. Each layer of soil they removed was shoveled into buckets, inspected and then, if nothing was found, carried out of the camp. As darkness began to fall the kids were unchained and shoved into their cell by an angry Tulismon but not before catching sight of something coming in the front gate.
Thompson had never seen anything like it. It resembled a cross between a dragon and a gorilla, with massive red wings, talons, and scaly reptilian skin covered in a layer of brown fur. To his confusion the guards did nothing to impede the creature's progress, in fact the Tulismon seemed to respect this monstrous thing, several of them bowing slightly. They watched from the cage as the dragon-thing, which must have been ten feet tall at least, stomped its way through the camp surveying the soil and nodding with approval every so often.
"Progress is good," the dragon beast said, "have you found anything yet?"
"No sir, you are positive what we are looking for is in this part of the forest?"
"Absolutely, the legends all say so, we should find it any day now."
Thompson struggled to listen as the conversation grew farther and farther away but soon it became impossible. He'd put away his surprise that the creature could talk and come to the conclusion that speech was universal here in the Digital World. He turned to Solara, who'd been listening just as closely. Given the amount of work they'd just done he thought he'd find her exhausted, instead an aura of anger and an expression of rage were on her beautiful face. She rattled at the bars of the cage angrily and spit in the dust before sitting on the soil floor the cages were imbedded in. Thompson regarded them all now, most of them looked very tired indeed, especially Jonathan. He turned to see the cage beside them and saw the familiar face of Bogmon staring at them.
"Don't worry, you'll get used to the work," Bogmon said with a friendly grin.
"I don't think I want to," Xander said with a sigh, "Bogmon, is there any way to escape?"
"Am I still in here?" Bogmon responded "Don't lose hope though, someday we will be free."
"What about that creature we saw?" Thompson asked, "The dragon."
"Podramon," Bogmon replied, his voice now but a whisper, "he is in charge of this excavation."
"What exactly are we excavating?" Jonathan asked, looking at his blistered dirty hands.
"Well, from what we've heard it's some kind of artifact of great power or importance," Bogmon whispered, "there are legends of such things in these woods. They say a great power resides here."
"I'm not sure I want to help that thing get more powerful," Xander said, "he looks pretty big and powerful to begin with."
"Indeed," Bogmon agreed, "now I suggest we get some rest before the guards hear us."
Morning came far too soon for the companions, especially since the Tulismon awakened them in the pale blue light of pre-dawn. Soon enough the shackles were back on and they were lined up in a new area of the camp instructed to keep digging until they found anything of interest. They went to it reluctantly with blank expressions going through the motions robotically. Dwelling on their predicament would only make things worse. Poor Patamon could barely keep up, his tiny legs weren't made for digging. Anselm watched his little friend claw at the dirt in a futile attempt to dig a hole. He bent down petting Patamon and lifting the poor creature.
"I'm sorry we got you into this Patamon," Anselm lamented.
"It's not your fault Anselm," Patamon whined with tears in his eyes.
"Hey you! Put that Patamon down and get back to work," one of the Tulismon roared, a whip stroke hitting Anselm in the leg and knocking him to the dirt. Anselm got up and picked up his shovel holding back his anger and sadness.
"Wait a minute," Xander said, nearly yelling, once the guard had gotten a distance away, "Patamon has wings!"
"They have arrows," Patamon reminded him, "I doubt I'd make it very far."
"Still," Xander postulated further, "it's the best chance we have. You can fly away and get help."
"Who?" Patamon asked dashing Xander's momentary hopes.
"Back to shoveling," Xander said with a defeated sigh.
"You might be on to something there friend," a voice caught their attention and they turned to find Bogmon standing behind them, "a Dyrasmon came in today, she's the fairy over there."
Bogmon pointed with his frog tongue at a three foot tall fairy-like creature at the far end of the camp. She was brown with green clothing and her skin almost looked like it was more plant matter than anything animal. One thing she definitely did have was wings. A trail of sparkling dust was left in her wake.
"She's beautiful," John admitted, "but how is she going to help us?"
"She just happens to know of a local band of heroes," Bogmon whispered.
"Band of heroes?" Thompson echoed, hope emerging on his face.
"So what's the plan?" Patamon asked with a mischievous grin.
"A distraction," Bogmon answered, "we create a distraction big enough to let them fly to get help."
"What distraction though?" Vera asked.
"We pretend to find something," Xander said, "we can pretend we excavated something."
"I'll tell Dyrasmon, you get back to work," Bogmon said hopping away, "I think the guard is coming. I'll be back to let you know when it goes down."
The gang got back to work, wanting to avoid anymore whips. They worked with more fervor now, half hoping to really discover something buried in the dirt. It would certainly make the distraction easier if they actually uncovered something. They resisted the urge to constantly check over their shoulders at what Bogmon and Dyrasmon were up to instead keeping their minds on the task at hand. Still, even with work to be done, their minds wandered back home to the real world. Even Solara was looking forward to seeing the orphanage again. She wondered if anyone even knew she was gone.
Thompson, on the other hand, wasn't done exploring this Digital World. Though certainly he longed for freedom from this wretched camp he realized that the forest they were in was quite beautiful and the exotic life forms were more than interesting enough to warrant further investigation and an extended stay. Still he was anxious to get out of the camp and away from the Tulismon. The friendly nature of the other Digimon they'd encounter inspired him that all these creatures were not bad, in fact the majority were nice. He looked at the others, realizing that most of them might turn back to the real world.
The hours passed slowly, tediously, and layer after layer of soil were removed and sifted. Nothing was uncovered, not so much as a shard of pottery from some bygone era. As the day wound down they gradually slowed their efforts, convinced that no discovery was to be made to make their distraction more convincing. It was late afternoon by the time Bogmon and Dyrasmon made their way over, revealing the plan of escape. It was fairly simple. The six of them would make a big deal out of a rock buried in the loose soil claiming it was an artifact while Dyrasmon and Patamon escaped to gather help.
"You are sure this group is real?" Xander asked the fairy.
"Yes, they are only a few miles away too. I've seen their leader Leomon not far from here fighting the Tulismon himself."
"Well," Thompson said with a determined tone, "let's get this thing underway BEFORE that dragon Podramon comes back."
"Indeed, good luck," Dyrasmon said.
Dyrasmon and Patamon flew away together, moving to another side of the camp as the six of them dug a whole and buried a rock. They dug the rock out a little excitedly jumping up and down as they did. It didn't take long for the guards to become interested. The Tulismon moved in with whips and spears at the ready to doll out any punishment they deemed fit. They found the six of them hopping up and down wildly screeching and pointing at the ground.
"What's all this then?" one of the guards growled.
"We found it!" Anselm shouted.
"Yeah! Yeah!" Solara celebrated with a dance.
"We found the artifact!" Xander confirmed.
The six went back to their screeching noticing the crowd of onlookers that was gathering. There were seven Tulismon now and at least ten worker Digimon surrounding them all awestruck by the bizarre spectacle. One of the Tulismon moved in pushing the six of them from their pit and kneeling to get a good look at the dirt. As he did Anselm turned over his shoulder, they all did, incorporating the look back as part of their peculiar victory dance. They could see Dyrasmon and Patamon slip over the high wooden walls of the slave camp and disappear into the forest. Each of them said a silent prayer hoping their friends would be alright and return with help as the cool breeze carried them along.
"This looks like an ordinary rock," the Tulismon rumbled angrily.
"That's what I said," Vera admitted, turning a scolding eye on everyone else in the ground, "but they wouldn't listen."
"Something's fishy here," one of the guards spit.
"Get back to work you six," another commanded, "and if I see anything like this again I'll order a double flogging for you Humon scum."
The six of them stopped their flailing and picked up their shovels obediently keeping their eyes on the dirt below. The Tulismon stormed off leaving three of their compatriots as an extra guard for the trouble makers. The crowd of Digimon soon dispersed leaving the six to finish the evening's work and cross their fingers that the plan would work. Freedom or bust.