Chapter 17: The Escape
Had he finally gone crazy? Had his encounter with the Blot pushed him over the edge? Because there was no way that Babs was sitting in front of him right now, gasping and shaking as tears spilled out of her eyes and down her cheeks.
"Yakko…I don't believe…I got caught in the desert, we got split up…I saw Wile E get taken away and I thought, t-thought I should pretend to be a Class C…oh, and then they were looking for you and Wakko and Dot, I didn't want them to know it was me…changed my voice…oh Yakko – "
Babs threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around him. It sent a jolt through him, like an electric current; it was then that he realized how long it had been since he'd felt any kind of comforting touch, and a warmth spread through Yakko's entire body that made him disregard his aches and pains. He brought his arms around her, hesitantly at first, as though he'd forgotten how to do such a thing. Slowly he relaxed into the embrace, and sighed as he buried his face in her shoulder. Her body trembled in time with her barely audible sobs, so he squeezed her tighter. It was all he had. For once, he couldn't think of anything appropriate to say.
When she pulled back, her eyes were red but her tears were under control. Yakko held her shoulder to keep her still so he could get a good look at her. Her fur was dirty and matted, and her cheeks were thin from malnourishment, but otherwise she looked relatively okay. Hell, he probably looked worse. It dawned on him that she had rubbed her feet and ankles with dirt so her pink fur wouldn't give her away. That seemed exceedingly clever to him for some reason.
But then she flashed him a radiant smile and her eyes were wildly bright and he forgot what he was thinking about. In spite of everything, she was smiling. And it was all for him. Her face seemed to shine in the darkness, and Yakko's stomach did a familiar backflip and his heart fluttered wildly.
Good god, were his palms sweating?
But then the smile slid from her face and Babs regarded him sadly. "I was hoping they hadn't caught you."
"I could say the same thing about you."
"What happened? What about the others – do you know what happened to Buster?"
Yakko hid a groan. He knew Buster was going to come up, he was just hoping it wasn't going to be less than five minutes into their conversation. "I got chased by this van, I think it was probably Bosko and Mortimer. Bugs called me to warn me, but I haven't seen him since. Or anyone else for that matter. They caught me the next day."
Babs was silent for a moment as she let the news settle over her.
"They caught me that afternoon, right after I left the car. When they brought me in here, Bosko showed me that picture of you and Wakko and Dot. They're looking for you guys, Yakko. But why?"
"Unless they're craving some songs about geography, I have no clue."
Babs dragged a hand across her face. "And they have no idea you're sitting right under their noses…" She paused, then glanced up at him. "So you don't know where Wakko and Dot are?"
"No," he said, ignoring the way his chest constricted.
"I'm so sorry, Yakko."
Yakko's eyes snapped to meet hers. Knowing that there was someone here who understood how difficult it was for him to admit that, someone who had even the slightest idea as to how badly he missed them…it just made him want to reach out to her, pull her close and –
"Well, that's it then," Babs said succinctly, "we're getting out of here. Pronto."
"And how do you propose we do that?"
"I told you - er, Molly told you - but I have an idea."
Babs' idea ended up taking several days to convey, as her hurried whispers were usually cut short by one of the weasels banging angrily against the cell doors. Each day is like a new piece of the puzzle, which Yakko readily helped to put together. Apparently Bosko had punished her after the whole Plucky fiasco; this infuriated Yakko, but Babs insisted that there was a silver lining. He'd taken her to a large garage (Yakko hadn't even known there was one) which led her to discover that the weasels were shipped out of the Compound at the end of every week. They were herded into vans like the ones that chased them in the desert, at which point they were driven north, past the border and presumably toward Los Angeles. As the head of the guards, Gums had the keys to the vans, which were kept in a garage on the other end of the Compound. Get a key, get a van, and they were out of here.
"But that's not enough," Yakko whispered to her in the darkness.
"What do you mean?"
"What about the others? Shirley and them? We need to get them out too."
"I know, but I don't know how. It's gonna be hard enough just getting ourselves out without getting a healthy dose of DIP. Once we get back to Toontown, we could get help…"
"We can't just leave them here."
Babs sighed. "I know."
"We'll stick them in the back of the van, like they do with the weasels. We'll chauffer them straight up to Toontown."
"Yeah, but how are we getting them into the van? They don't exactly look like weasels."
Yakko frowned in thought. "We need our hammerspaces back," he said.
The plan took another week to concoct. It was whispered back and forth during their every spare moment with no weasel or guard breathing down their necks. Yakko did his best to keep out of trouble. He kept his head low, he kept his mouth shut. This seemed to unnerve Gums, but when he reported to Bosko and Mortimer they joyously gloated that the Blot had finally "broken" Ears. They kicked and prodded him whenever they passed by, usually with jeers and insults added in for good measure, but Yakko never said a word. Instead, he pictured the looks on their faces when he was driving away from the Compound at full speed.
As they end of the week approached, Yakko and Babs rehearsed their plan over and over again until Yakko could have recited it backwards while on rollerskates. But on the night before they had agreed to set the plan in motion, Yakko could not sleep. Not that he had ever slept well there anyway – since they were underground he'd lost sense of time and had no idea if it was night or not, he just slept when they were allowed to sleep. But he stared at the ceiling, listening to Babs breathe quietly next to him, listing all the things that could go wrong in his head. First and foremost was death. One quick squirt of DIP and it would be all over. Or if the guard with the DIP gun was a bad shot and only got him in the arm or something, he'd spend the rest of his life limbless. They could be caught. Sent to the Blot again. Tortured. And if anything happened to Babs, he didn't know what he'd do with himself.
But he'd ceased caring about being killed. Or tortured, or injured. No, the thought that kept Yakko awake was that if he was caught, they'd no doubt increase his security. He would never have another chance to escape, and he would never see his brother and sister again. The thought chilled him to the bone, and he spent the night drifting in and out of a fitful sleep.
He woke to someone gently shaking his shoulder. Yakko jumped up rather quickly.
"Whozzit – Panama…who's there?"
"Yakko, it's me," Babs hissed from beneath her hood. He could barely make her out in the darkness. Looking around, Yakko saw that other prisoners were still asleep.
"Sorry," Yakko rasped, his voice still heavy from sleep, "I'm guessing this is my wake up call?"
Babs nodded. "You ready?"
"Eeehhhhh…"
"Ditto."
They looked at each other for a moment. Yakko wanted to say something comforting, something inspiring, but currently his tongue seemed to be made out of lead. He remembered Bugs telling him that confidence was everything and with it he could reach the end of any finish line. Did that apply to breaking out of a prison camp as well? It was easy for Bugs to say, he was perpetually confident. How did he pull that off, anyhow?
Afraid that if he said anything his voice would come out as a high-pitched squeak, Yakko settled for squeezing Babs' shoulder. Then, deciding that if he didn't start now he probably never would, Yakko got to his feet and strode to the cell door. As usual, two weasels stood outside the door. They were currently squabbling with one another in their garbled language. Before Yakko would have rolled his eyes, but now he just wondered if the weasels were toons he had once known.
He leaned against the bars without either weasel noticing. After watching them claw at each other for a moment, Yakko cleared his throat. Both weasels spun to face him, guns raised.
"Hi there!" Yakko greeted jovially. "And how are you two this fine, dank morning?"
They snarled at him, edging their guns closer to his nose.
"Ah, friendly as ever! Looks like someone had their OJ. Well, seeing as how we're all in a good mood, did I ever tell you two that you're ugly?"
They blinked.
"Yup, you're downright hideous," Yakko continued, "Your mom took one look at ya and then asked for her money back. Oh, and did I mention you smell bad? Really, you could power a pickup truck off of your own fumes. That is if the pickup truck doesn't try to drive away from you first."
Yakko waited for them to react, but they just stared at him blankly. He rolled his eyes, realizing that Bosko and Mortimer probably ridiculed them so much on a daily basis that this was normal to them.
"Well gentlemen, I hate that it has to come to this…" Yakko drawled. With that, he stuck two of his fingers through the cell bars and poked the closest weasel in the eyes.
This had the desired effect. The weasel howled in pain, while the other unlocked the cell door and wrenched Yakko outside by his shirt collar. While the weasel snarled in his face, Yakko noticed the gray blur that was Babs as she slipped out the door and around the corner, unnoticed. Perfect, so far so good.
Still clutching him, the weasel began to drag him down the hall. They didn't get very far before they nearly collided with Mortimer. He had a cigarette dangling out of his mouth, but this didn't stop him from taking a massive bite out of a ham sandwich.
"Breakfast of champions," Yakko commented.
"Well well well," Mortimer said as he crossed his arms, "if it ain't my favorite customer. Whatsa matter Ears, ya miss me too much?"
"Yeah, I missed that funny laugh you have. You know, the one from all those cartoons you were really popular in – oh wait, sorry, that was Mickey. My mistake."
The smirk faltered from Mortimer's face and promptly turned into a snarl. He leaned forward so his nose was pushing against Yakko's mask, and Yakko could see chunks of sandwich caught in his large front teeth.
"Oh kiddo, you gonna be wishin' you paid a bit better attention to those cartoons after I'm through with you," Mortimer growled.
Yakko bristled. At some point or another Mortimer seemed to have picked up on the fact that he did not like being referred to as "kiddo." At least not by anyone but Bugs.
"I'll take it from here," Mortimer snapped at the weasel, and snatched Yakko by the scuff of the neck. Yakko smirked beneath his hood, reveling in the fact that everything was going according to the plan. Then he remembered what the next step was, and his stomach twisted a little.
"You know, you're the only one who can't seem to mind his own business in this joint," Mortimer said as he gave Yakko another rough tug, "You think you're real hot shit, don't ya? Bet ya had a bit part in some cartoon and thought were the next Donald goddamn Duck. I've seen your type before. Think yer gonna change the world, think yer gonna be in a cartoon every week. Carpal tunnel from signin' too many autographs. Think you'll be a star. Well guess what sweetheart, it ain't like that. It ain't like that at all. They'll promise ya everything and give ya nothing."
Mortimer yanked Yakko into his office and shoved him to the ground. "And you know what?" Mortimer continued, picking up fervor, "I bet you were born, you lousy worm. I bet you were born thinking you were entitled to your own damn cartoon. Well guess what? Us drawn toons, we were made to be in cartoons. You were born to get us coffee."
Yakko stared at him as he marched toward the three metal tubs. He had no idea that Mortimer felt so strongly about born toons – did Bosko feel the same? And the Blot? Was this part of why they were dragging everyone to the Compound? Yakko shook these thoughts out of his head when he remembered he had a job to do. Mortimer was reaching for the tub with the water, so his back was toward him. Knowing he only had moments, Yakko began to search the room. Babs had held fast by the rumor that somewhere in the office was the chemical needed to remove the RIP on his back. She'd seen Bosko with it once: a clear liquid inside an eyedropper. As Mortimer struggled with the tub – he was nowhere near as muscular as Mugsy – Yakko's eyes scanned the shelves. Nothing but guns and rotting sandwiches…an anvil, shaving cream…he checked the table in the middle of the room, but it only seemed to have more sandwiches and an assortment of uncomfortable-looking chemicals and metal implements –
There. He saw it. Near the corner of the table: a small eyedropper. That had to be it. Yakko reached for it, but stopped short when Mortimer rounded on him.
"Where do ya think yer goin'?"
Mortimer's black eyes flicked from Yakko's hand to the table. Yakko's heart was thundering in his chest. If he screwed everything up this early in the game he wasn't going to even be able to look Babs in the eye…
"Eh, you thinkin' you was gonna sneak my sandwich…don't think we feed ya enough, eh? Well, that's 'cause we don't, ha! Now git over here!"
Yakko barely had time to shapeshift his face before Mortimer ripped the hood from his head and grabbed him by the ears. Yakko caught a glance of the eyedropper just as Mortimer plunged his head into the cold water. Thinking fast, Yakko swallowed a mouthful of it while still trying to hold his breath, still trying to retain some level of consciousness. The corners of his vision were blurring when Mortimer finally pulled him back up again.
"Aw, I bet you missed that Ears – "
Yakko spit the mouthful of water directly into Mortimer's face. The mouse spluttered angrily, cursing and swiping at his eyes. Yakko seized his chance and snatched the eyedropper off the table. He slipped it down the front of his jumpsuit just as Mortimer, outraged, blinked the last bits of water from his eyes, droplets falling from his nose and chin.
"Why, you look like a drowned rat," Yakko commented.
With a snarl of rage, Mortimer struck out and landed a punch on his jaw. Yakko stumbled backwards into the table, sending a number of the foul-smelling chemicals crashing to the floor.
Mortimer looked livid. "You little bastard – "
Just as he lunged for Yakko, the door swung open. Bosko stormed in, followed by Mugsy, who was dragging in Montana Max by his hair. Max had lost weight and his face was covered in grime, a sharp contrast to the boy who would flick specks of dust from his Armani jackets.
"What's this?" Bosko barked.
"Just teaching our favorite a little lesson," Mortimer said, targeting Yakko with a glare.
"Looks like it went the other way around, idiot."
"Let go of me!" Max cried, twisting his body wildly. Mugsy barely noticed.
"Aw shut up already ya dirty little rat. You know what this one did?" Bosko asked, jerking his thumb at Max, "He tried to grab my gun right outta my hands. Can you believe that? Too bad he's got the grip you'd expect from a pampered little punk."
Yakko rolled his eyes. He was leaving out the part where he most likely had Mugsy do all the work for him.
"He tried to buy me off, too!" Bosko continued, making Mortimer snicker. Bosko reached out and pinched Max's cheeks roughly. "That was real cute, kid. Don't ya know yer money don't matter to me? It's pocket change compared to what I'll have once the Big Boss gets his way. But you don't get that, you think yer money can get you outta whatever mess you get yourself in…you keep yer cash in yer hammerspace, do ya?"
"Here, take it!" Max cried, pulling rolls of cash from behind his back with reckless abandon. They tumbled to the floor. "Take all of it, just let me go!"
"That ain't even a quarter of it," Bosko said, his lip curling. Still, he grabbed at it greedily.
"Bite me," Max snapped.
"I'd have to get me a rabies shot if did that. No, I have a different idea for you. Mugsy, get the PermaRIP."
Still dragging Max effortlessly behind him, Mugsy pulled one of the other metal tubs to the middle of the room and tossed the cover aside. It smelled unpleasantly like turpentine, but it was thick like the RIP had been. Mugsy handed Bosko the paintbrush, and Yakko's heart started to pound.
"Hold 'im down, Mugsy," Bosko ordered.
In the next second Mugsy had Max flattened on his stomach faster than a dropped anvil would have. Pulling a knife from his hammerspace, Bosko tore a line straight through Max's shirt, exposing his back. The fur on the back of Yakko's neck stood on end. Hammerspaces only existed in the imaginations of each toon, but even though it was invisible to the eye there was something tangible about its presence. He knew it was there on Max's back, he could feel it just as he could feel his own at all times. In this moment Max's hammerspace felt extremely vulnerable. Max seemed to realize this too, as he began struggling rather violently against Mugsy's iron grip.
"What are you doing?" Max cried. His voice broke.
Bosko cracked his knuckles and dipped the paintbrush into the tub. "After your little stunt today, I've decided I can't trust you. And I've also decided that I don't like you. I don't think ya deserve to just reach back and pull out a wad of cash, wave it around and have all yer problems go away. So I'm just closin' up the bank."
"You're not destroying his hammerspace?" Yakko blurted, unable to stop himself in his shock.
Bosko rolled his eyes. "Yer a regular Einstein. Of course that's what I'm doin' ya dink."
Max yelped in panic and began to struggle in earnest, trying to crane his neck around to see what Bosko was doing. Mortimer laughed with giddy excitement, releasing Yakko to clap his hands gleefully. His heart pounding, Yakko's eyes traveled from Mortimer's transfixed face to the DIP gun hanging from his belt.
"Now hold still…" Bosko said, "this won't hurt a bit…ha, I'm yankin' yer chain, this is gonna hurt like hell."
Max kicked his feet. "No, no no no!"
"Hurry up Bosko, I wanna see 'im squeal!" Mortimer cheered.
Keeping his eyes on Mortimer's face, Yakko slowly reached out for the gun.
"Hold still ya little shit, do ya want me to RIP away your mouth too?" Bosko grunted against a squirming Max. Mugsy was watching Bosko with more focus than he'd ever had before.
Yakko's shaking fingers were moments away from the grip of the gun. Just one last inch…
Max's scream of agony tore straight through the air and into Yakko's brain. Unable to stop himself he turned – no sooner had the tip of the brush touched Max's back when Max's skin began to sizzle and blacken, with a thin trail of smoke curling its way to the ceiling. Yakko didn't care how much he disliked Max – no toon deserved that. Ever.
Mortimer cheered, and in one movement Yakko wrapped his hand around the gun and yanked it from his belt. Not realizing what had happened, Mortimer turned to face him in confusion. Yakko swung with all his might, connecting the butt of the gun to the side of Mortimer's head with a sick crack. Mortimer grunted and fell to the ground in a heap.
Bosko, who had made it halfway down Max's back, looked up in surprise, only to find Yakko pointing the gun straight at his nose.
"Don't move," Yakko breathed.
Bosko's face hardened. "Keep pointin' that thing at me and I'll shove this brush down this pathetic brat's throat." Beneath him, Max whimpered weakly.
Yakko inhaled, trying to keep his head level, trying to keep the gun from slipping out of his sweating palms.
"You won't shoot me. You don't have the guts, worm."
"Get off him. Let him go," Yakko said in a steady voice.
"I mean it!" Bosko roared, pulling Max's head up by his hair and holding the brush next to his mouth, "Put it down or he dies, slow-like!"
Still shapeshifted, Yakko stared into Max's panic-stricken face. His eyes were wide and fearful. A few tears slipped out of them as he pleaded in whisper, "Please…please…"
Gritting his teeth, Yakko placed the gun on the ground and kicked it aside. Then, faster than he would have though possible, Bosko whipped out his own DIP gun and fired. Yakko dove behind the table, missing the stream of DIP by inches. The stench filled the small room, but he was so used to it by now that he ignored it. Bosko had dropped Max and was standing, gun aimed for Yakko's chest. Yakko scrambled to his feet, but Bosko was almost upon him, he was charging around the table – but Bosko slipped on the spilled chemicals, his feet flying out from under him as he pitched forward and collided with Yakko like a wrecking ball. Yakko landed hard on his back, knocking the air straight out of his lungs.
Bosko blinked at him. "Holy shit…it's you."
"Warner?" Max croaked.
Yakko frowned at them for a moment, then touched his face. He realized with a sickening jolt that the fall had jarred him enough that his shapeshift had vanished, and he was now exposed.
"Yeah, well hello nurse to you too," he quipped in his normal voice.
"I don't believe…the whole time…but, Ears…Class C…you couldn't be…"
Yakko smirked at him. "Wish…that you…could speak…"
Bosko face grew red as he clenched his teeth. "You…you're MINE!"
"Sorry, I'm out of your league," Yakko retorted, but balked when Bosko got to his feet. Or, at least he tried to – he didn't get very far before he'd slip and fall back into the chemicals. Growling like an animal, Bosko cocked his gun and prepared to take aim.
Thinking fast, Yakko turned. "Mugsy!" he cried, "Bosko's hurt, go help him!"
Mugsy blinked at him, unaccustomed to being spoken to by anyone but Bosko or Mortimer. For a second Yakko thought he was going to ignore him, but then Mugsy turned to look at Bosko curiously.
"What?" Bosko blurted, "I'm not hurt, I'm just…wait…Mugsy, no…Mugsy, back off, stop it! Bad! Bad oaf!"
He was too late; Mugsy marched dutifully over to Bosko and scooped him up, cradling the smaller toon to his chest. Bosko squirmed and swore, but it was useless. Mugsy only clutched him closer, in a protective, almost motherly gesture.
"Now don't let go of him until he gets better, got it?" Yakko told him. When Mugsy nodded, he dashed to Max's side.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Max groaned.
"Yeah, I missed you too," Yakko said, pulling Max to his feet. "C'mon, move."
He tugged Max out the door, slamming it behind him. He was supposed to get the RIP remover and get out of there unnoticed, and that was all clearly shot to hell. He'd lost so much time now, and it wouldn't be long before Mortimer came to or Bosko finally escaped Mugsy's grip.
"Are you okay?" he asked Max when they'd cleared the corner.
Max's head was bent low, and if Yakko didn't know any better he'd say that Max was crying again. "I'd emptied out my offshore accounts when the kidnappings started," Max moaned, "everything was in my hammerspace. Everything. I'm ruined, I'm absolutely ruined…"
"I wasn't asking about your damn money, I was asking about you."
"It's the same thing! Without my money I'm nothing!"
"Oh boy will you and Scratchy have a lot to talk about when we get home," Yakko muttered.
They peeled around the corner, and Yakko peered down the corridor where the Class A's and B's were held. There were no guards, which either meant that Babs had done her job distracting them or that it was a trap. Crossing his fingers, Yakko hoped for the former and crept toward the cell door. He knocked three times.
"You here to see the wizard?" came Babs' voice.
Yakko grinned as the door swung open, revealing Babs. She was wearing a supervisor's jumpsuit, which was navy instead of gray. The room was swarming with toons; all the prisoners, both Upper and Lower Class, had been sprung from their cells and gathered here.
"I grabbed the whole laundry room of uniforms, we'll have one for every night this week – oh my god, Max?"
"Yeah, looked what the cat dragged in," Yakko muttered. "Bosko burned off his hammerspace, I don't know how much of it he's got left."
Babs gasped. "Since when could they do that?"
"Since now, fluff-and-stuff!" Max snapped.
Babs glared at him, but Yakko shrugged. "Give him a break Babs, he hasn't had the best morning – "
"Yakko! Like, oh my god!"
Shirley came bursting out of the darkness and immediately wrapped her arms around his neck in a bone-crushing hug. "I can't believe you're like here! Babs like told me you were like the one who saved Plucky! Thank you thank you thank you, you're going to have the best karma ever!"
"Thanks Shirl…can't…breathe…" Yakko rasped as she squeezed him, giving her a few weak pats on the back.
Babs gently pried her friend away from him, and when she pulled back Shirley's eyes shown with tears. "Plucky's doing a lot better, Babs told me you were the one who stopped the Machine. He remembers who I am and everything. His brain's not totally fried like those weasel dudes' are. There's just one thing – "
Plucky, in all his odd glory, waddled forward. He brought a furred hand up to head in a salute. "Batduck, reporting for duty!" he said.
" – yeah, he thinks he's Batduck," Shirley sighed.
Yakko frowned at Plucky. "Well that's, eeehhhhh…close, right?"
"Listen, Yakko, did you get the stuff?" Babs interrupted.
"Oh yeah – "
Yakko reached down his front and pulled out the eyedropper. "Ladies first," he said, raising an eyebrow at Babs. She nodded and quickly turned her back to him, and began undoing her jumpsuit –
"Whoa whoa whoa, what are you doing?" Yakko yelped, his voice jumping several pitches higher.
The jumpsuit fell limply to Babs' sides. She turned to look at him over her bare shoulder, matching his quirked eyebrow. "Are you taking the RIP off of my hammerspace or what? Isn't that what we're doing?"
"Uh, I…yeah, sorry."
Yakko cleared his throat, thankful for the darkness so Babs could not see the color creeping up into his face. Standing guard in front of Babs, Shirley peered at him from between her ears and gave him a rather sly look. Yakko ignored her and turned his attention to Babs. The sight of her back, long and bare, jerked his memory back to Minerva. He remembered zipping the mink's dress. He remembered feeling wishing he'd never so much as spoken to her. But now, looking at Babs, all he could see was how fragile she had become – he could see the outline of her ribs against her fur, and the long streak of RIP that locked away the extension of her consciousness. But at the same time she stood tall and proud, undamaged and unafraid. Yakko was suddenly overwhelmed by an aggressive surge of protectiveness; no one was going anywhere near this girl. Not while he was around.
"What are you waiting for? An invitation?" Babs called.
Yakko rolled his eyes. Way to ruin the mood, Babs.
Sucking in his breath, Yakko held the eyedropper over the hardened RIP. He was glad Babs was facing away from him because his hand was shaking. Carefully, he squeezed a drop onto her back. The RIP appeared to soften where the drop fell, and Yakko reached out to rub it in. Up until this point he couldn't remember a single moment in his life when he was physically shy around girls. But now he found himself hyper aware of Babs' skin, and he was having trouble reconciling the conflicting urges to touch it or to not even dare come close. But as he rubbed the remover further in, the RIP was siphoning off.
"I think it's working…" Babs murmured, "I can feel it!"
Using both hands, Yakko swiped the last bits of RIP from her back. "There, got it, I think…give it a try Babs, see if it worked."
She tugged her jumpsuit back over her shoulder and reached behind her back. A brilliant grin split her face, and in the next second she tugged out a carrot and took a giant bite.
"Aaah, that's better," she sighed, then reached in her hammerspace to pull out a flurry of items, including an encyclopedia, a sheep, a life preserver, and a potted plant. "Phew…feels good to get that out of there. About face Yakko, it's your turn!"
Yakko turned and quickly peeled his jumpsuit down. His heart was jumping with excitement, but whether this was over the fact that he was about to get his hammerspace back or that Babs was currently running her fingers up and down his spine could not be determined. But Babs had been right: he could feel a lightening behind his back, it was as though air was being fed back into his lungs. He knew it was done before Babs was able to get a word out – Yakko reached into his hammerspace and pulled out the one thing he'd been dying to lay his hands on for weeks.
"Your wallet?" Max snapped incredulously, "You get your hammerspace back and you pull out your wallet? What are you trying to do, rub it in my face, asshole?"
"I'm not going for the Benjamins," Yakko muttered. He flipped through his wallet until – there, he'd found it. The picture Dot had taken of the three of them.
He stared at his siblings. It was the first time he'd seen Wakko and Dot's faces since Bosko had shoved the wanted poster in his face, and that was weeks ago. They were beautiful, just as he remembered them. He could've stared at the picture for days. His throat felt tight, and his eyes were stinging.
Yakko hastily wiped at them when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"You'll see them soon," Babs said softly, "but we need to get out of here first."
Nodding, Yakko slipped his wallet back into his hammerspace and pulled out his gloves. "Missed these," he croaked as he slid them on. Babs began to protest, but he sighed. "Bosko saw my face, he knows it's me anyway."
Babs nodded but looked nervous, moving to remove the RIP from Shirley. The others were already in their navy jumpsuits. It didn't exactly count as a disguise, but it at least wouldn't call as much attention to them as their prisoner uniforms would. It was at that point that he realized that everyone was looking at him with expectant looks on their faces. Were they waiting for him to speak? Despite his reputation as a chatterbox he felt as though his tongue was stuck in his throat. It was the first time he'd seen hopeful looks on anyone's faces in weeks, what was he supposed to say that wouldn't crush them? Try to get into the vans without dying? And even if you're lucky enough to get to the van, who knows if they'll even make it out alive?
He didn't want to lie to them, but he didn't think that would make for the most inspirational speech. Clearing his throat, Yakko said, "Okay everyone, uh, listen up. We're ditching this place, once and for all. There are a bunch of vans on the other side of this Compound. Babs is going to escort you guys over there while I take care of the Machine – I eh, want to make sure we never see another homemade weasel again. But please, be careful, I don't need to tell you that this is dangerous. Don't draw attention to yourselves, but defend yourselves if you have to. Everyone who has a hammerspace should pair up with someone who doesn't, got it? Protect yourselves and keep each other safe…and hey, maybe we'll be home by dinner."
The other toons began to pair up immediately. There was something alarming about everyone taking him so seriously – what if he ended up getting them all killed? But he didn't have time to dwell on this, as he noticed that Max was the only toon left standing alone.
"Max, get with someone who's got a hammerspace."
"Screw you, splot, I've got a hammerspace."
Yakko crossed his arms. "No, you had a hammerspace. Tell your ego to quit wasting time so we can get out of here."
"Who the hell do you me to grab onto? The Easter Bunny?" Max cried, gesturing around the room, "There's no one left, dipshit. I'm fine by myself, the only thing another toon would be good for is as a DIP shield."
"Well aren't you the resourceful one. Looks like I'm your DIP shield then."
"What?"
"Move it, you're coming with me," Yakko ordered.
"No way – "
Babs stepped between them. "I hate to break up the chit chat gents, but we're kinda in the middle of a prison break. Think it can wait?"
"Typical woman, always making demands and ack!"
Max was cut short by Yakko pulling a carrot from his hammerspace and stuffing it in Max's mouth. "Bugs taught me that one," Yakko muttered to Babs, who smirked.
He turned to address the crowd once more. "Okay everyone, stick with Babs and do what she says. Max and I will meet up with you…in a bit. Remember, if you smell DIP, duck, got it?"
There was a murmuring of "got it" "good luck" and "thanks Yakko" from the crowd as they shuffled by him. Yakko felt a hand on his shoulder again. It belonged to Wile E, who was smiling at him. "Just like Bugs," he murmured softly before slipping into the crowd of toons. Yakko stared after him, wanting to say something back but feeling simply at a loss for words. This was happening more and more lately, and he didn't like it.
Peeking out the door to make sure it was clear, Babs motioned for everyone to follow. Before she left she glanced back at Yakko and they locked eyes; it looked as though she wanted to say something to him, but then she seemed to remember she was leading a group of toons to freedom and skirted out the door instead.
"You tell Buster Bluebell Bunny you stole his girlfriend yet?" Max asked.
"Shut up," Yakko snapped.
"Oooh, hit a nerve, did I?"
"I'll hit something of yours if you don't cram it and follow me."
Max grumbled something back but Yakko ignored it. Now that Babs and the others were gone he was reminded of how far they still had to go until they were free, of how many things were still left to chance. He crept out of the cell, Max behind him, and struck off in the opposite direction of the other prisoners. Babs had done her job quite well; it had been up to her to convince all the weasel guards that she was, in fact, Mortimer going under cover. They'd spent the last week perfecting her Mortimer impression, as well as inventing a reason as to why Mortimer would be asking all the guards to report to the break room. An earthquake drill was the best one they could come up with.
But as they rounded the corner, Yakko spotted two weasels were skulking around the entrance to the Machine room. There was no way she could've rounded up all of them. He caught Max just as he was about to bluster down the hall. Reaching behind his back, Yakko pulled out a giftwrapped box, placed it on the ground, and kicked it so it slid in front of the weasels.
"What are you doing, it's not like it's Christmas – " Max began, but Yakko slapped a hand over his mouth.
At first the weasels jumped away and hissed at the box, but slowly their confidence grew and they began to inspect it curiously. Yakko crossed his fingers. One of them was brave enough to poke the box with its foot. Ever so slowly, they clawed at the package. One of them pulled the ribbon, and the whole thing tumbled open –
The box erupted with toon fireworks. Sparklers whizzed around the weasels' heads as rockets ricocheted off the walls. The weasels yelped in panic and tried to run, but only managed to crash into one another since they were all but blinded by the bright lights. Taking advantage of their distraction, Yakko grabbed Max by the arm and together they ducked into the Machine room.
"Works every time," Yakko said with a smirk.
Max rolled his eyes. "Next time maybe you should pull something out of your ass that draws even more attention to us."
This made Yakko pause. The juvenile taunting had ceased, and Max's voice had now taken a sharply bitter texture to it. Perhaps it was seeing Yakko pull something from his hammerspace again, or maybe it was that the Compound was finally getting to him. Yakko had no idea. But he didn't have time to puzzle it out either. Frowning, Yakko pressed forward.
The room was more dimly lit than usual. Yakko could barely go three steps without tripping over a wire or a tube, and Max was cursing with ease each time he stumbled and fell. Having been forced to work there every day, Yakko had a better grasp for the room's layout and was able to pick his way to the Machine itself.
"Listen Max, you stand guard while I take this thing apart. If you see anyone – anyone – get my attention."
Max merely grunted at him, surprising Yakko. The old Max would have probably told him to go screw himself and, to Yakko's infinite shock, he missed the taunts.
Trying to push these thoughts out of his head, Yakko set to work. He had little time, minutes maybe, before the guards figured out what was going on. But he couldn't leave knowing that this hellish Machine was still working, that it could still take an innocent toon and turn him or her into a monster. Pulling a pair of scissors from his hammerspace, Yakko began to slice through clumps of wires, plowing forward like a jungle explorer. He bent pipes and tore through the tubes, ducking out of the way of weak jets of ink. When the scissors wasn't enough, he pulled something else from his hammerspace: shovels, baseball bats, sledgehammers, jaws of life. Everything was ripped apart with a savage vengeance. He didn't have time to be an artist. He didn't even know if it was going to work.
He made his way to what had been his station. The pipe he had broken had been hastily, and poorly, reassembled and held together mainly with duct tape. Yakko grabbed the gigantic fastener with both hands, twisted, and pulled, grunting with the effort. It came loose, letting a small stream of ink pool on the floor. He looked at the fastener for a moment before tossing it in his hammerspace. They'd have a lot of fun trying to put it back together without the right piece.
Yakko stepped back to admire his handiwork for a moment when he noticed the plastic flamingo on the floor. Its neck was bent at an awkward angle from when he'd smashed it against the Machine two weeks earlier. Feeling a bizarre surge of affection for it, he stashed it behind his back as well. He couldn't stand leaving it in this place.
"I'll show you where he is, I swear, just give me my hammerspace back, please – "
Yakko stiffened at the sound of Max's voice. Footsteps were coming his way. His heart racing, he searched for an escape, somewhere to run, but he was backed in a corner –
Max came into view as he stormed around the bulk of the Machine, looking at Yakko like he was some kind of rare animal he was trying to trap for its pelt. "Here he is, this is him, this is Warner!"
Mortimer and a weasel appeared, the former pulling an ugly sneer onto his face. "Get Bosko," he muttered to the weasel.
The weasel nodded. "Mo. Mo, Mo!"
"Yeah whatever. Just go."
The weasel scurried off, slithering over the tubes and pipes. Yakko glared at Max, who refused to meet his eyes.
"There, I showed you where he is. Now get me my hammerspace back. You guys have to have some kinda potion or something – "
Mortimer barely looked at Max. "Ha, you must really be desperate. Sorry kid, I lied. That shit's permanent."
Max was pale beneath the dirt on his face. "You've gotta be joking."
Tugging a switchblade from his pocket and shoving it against Max's throat, Mortimer snarled, "Guess that's what toons do..."
Max gulped and quickly backed off. Realization was dawning on him, it was all over his face, but Yakko found that he did not feel sorry. And it was this, more than anything, that troubled him – what had this place done to him? How could he not feel sorry for a toon that had been stripped of the thing he held most dear?
At that moment Bosko came puffing and wheezing around the corner. "Bo, Bo!" cried the weasel, pointing fanatically at Bosko.
"Shaddup!" Bosko snapped as he smacked the weasel in the face. It whimpered and disappeared in the mess of equipment. Bosko's eyes flicked from Yakko's face to the path of destruction he'd left behind.
"Looks like our favorite decided to do a little redecoratin'."
"You like it? I did it with you two in mind," Yakko shot back.
Mortimer glared at him. "Oh, I love it. Love it as much as I love the goose egg you gave me on my head. Here, let me show ya how much I love it."
With a snarl, Mortimer lunged forward, his hand moving for his hammerspace. Realizing it was now or never, Yakko made for his own. In one movement he pulled his mallet from his hammerspace and reared back. The mallet seemed to almost sigh with relief from being freed, and to Yakko it felt glorious. Somewhere out of the corner of his eye he saw Max flee. Mortimer seemed to realize what was happening the second Yakko swung his mallet like a baseball bat. It connected with Mortimer's head with a marvelous thwack. His body went ramrod straight, stars dancing around his head and ridiculous grin, before he toppled over backwards.
Yakko smirked. "You're gonna have brain damage by the end of the day, mac. And you've got enough of that as it is."
The smirk slid from Yakko's face when he felt something hard press against the back of his head along with the terrible stench of the DIP. "Drop the mallet," Bosko growled.
Yakko held it stubbornly until Bosko roared once more. "I said DROP IT!"
The mallet slid from his fingers and onto the floor with a thunk. "Turn around," Bosko said softly. Scowling, Yakko obeyed. Bosko's DIP gun was pointed directly at his face.
"The Blot," Bosko said with a manic look in his eye, "he don't want ya dead. He wants ya alive. See, he's under the impression your show was tellin' the truth. He believes everything. That you were drawn. That ya lived in the tower forever and all that bullshit. He thinks you can help him out. But I know better. I know damn well you were born…born to an idiot broad who never got out of the bad part of Toontown no less."
Yakko blinked at him in shock. How on earth did he know –
"Oh, I know," Bosko said as though he'd heard what Yakko had been thinking. "I know a little too much. Which is why I'm gonna have to make a little exception for you and your brother and sister. The Blot don't even know you're here, so the Blot won't know if you died here too. And what the Blot don't know won't hurt 'im, right? Sorry Warner, this'll hurt you a hell of a lot more than it hurts me."
Bosko took aim. The smell of the DIP, the stench of death, was clouding his brain. Yakko tensed, preparing to jump –
A pie splattered against the back of Bosko's head, sending filling in every direction as he pitched forward. Looking over his shoulder Yakko caught a glimpse of Babs, sprinting full tilt in their direction. Spinning around, Bosko shot the DIP gun blindly in her direction. Yakko yelled and lunged for Bosko as Babs cried out in pain and tumbled to the ground. They collided; Bosko turned the gun on him but Yakko grabbed it. It became an odd wrestling match as both toons struggled. Bosko was doing everything he could to aim the gun at him while Yakko desperately tried to angle it away. Despite his stature, Bosko was much stronger than he looked.
Panting, Bosko threw an elbow into Yakko's ribs, the spot that had never quite healed from when he'd initially been captured. Grunting in pain, Yakko's grip loosened and Bosko twisted the gun so it pointed at his face. He pumped the barrel once, then his wormed his finger around the trigger. Staring down the barrel of certain death, Yakko's survival instincts kicked into overdrive. With a frightened surge of adrenaline Yakko pushed back just as Bosko squeezed down on the trigger. The gun flipped backwards and the stream of DIP shot towards Bosko, past the side of his face. He howled in pain, dropping the gun and clutching his face as he sunk to his knees.
Yakko did not wait. Swinging his mallet with all the force in his body, Yakko hit Bosko squarely on the top of his head. He was out cold before he hit the ground. Breathily heavily, Yakko snatched up the DIP gun. It felt odd in his hands.
"Babs! BABS!"
"I'm – I'm okay," she called back shakily.
Yakko all but fainted with relief. Feeling weak-kneed, he dashed to her side. She had propped herself up and was trying to get a good look at her leg. "What happened – "
"He missed, sorta," she said, "the spray got my ankle. I think the jumpsuit got most of it, but it just burned right through it – aahhh."
Babs hissed in pain and withdrew her hand. "Can I take a look?" Yakko asked. At her nod, he carefully pulled the leg of her pants up. Her ankle was already swelling, and he could see fiercely red welts speckled across it, the fur around them completely burned away.
"That's gonna leave a mark," she muttered.
"God Babs, I'm so sorry – "
"Don't be such a drama queen, it's not your fault. He didn't get you, did he?"
"No, but not for lack of effort."
Babs looked at Mortimer and Bosko's still forms warily. "Let's just get out of here before they wake up."
Yakko pulled her to her feet, but she only took one step before her ankle gave out beneath her. He reached out to catch her.
"Great. Just peachy," she snapped irritably.
Yakko took her arm and pulled it around his shoulders. "C'mon, I'll help you. I'll cut you some slack for being slow. You just, you know, saved my life back there."
"Well, Molly did owe you one," she said with a wink.
They shuffled down the hall as though they were in some kind of deadly version of a three-legged race. Yakko kept looking over his shoulder, expecting Bosko or Mortimer to pop up at any second. His mind was racing…how did Bosko know about his mother? And what could the Blot possibly want with him and his siblings?
"I already had everyone in the van when Max came running. He said he tried to save you but he couldn't without his hammerspace," Babs said, interrupting his thoughts.
"Oh, is that the world according to Max? Think again. He ratted me out, then high-tailed it out of there when things got hot," Yakko growled.
"Yeah, I figured as much. He got in the van with the others when I went to find you. Wile E offered to drive – well, actually, the 'Batduck' offered first but I didn't think that was the best idea – anyway, they should be making tracks to the border by now."
"You should've just gone with them, you didn't have to come back for me."
"Don't be stupid Yakko – "
"I'm serious, I don't want something to happen to you, that was your chance – "
"Oh yeah? What would you have done?"
Yakko stared at her and realized she had a point. But suddenly she screamed, and the next thing Yakko knew something strong had plowed into him, knocking him flat on his back. He tried to support Babs before she fell, but he lost track of her as his head smacked against the ground. Foul breath and sweat filled his nostrils; it was Gums, he was on top of him, snarling and looking particularly manic. Yakko squirmed beneath him, trying to wrestle him off, but the throbbing beneath his skull was making his vision swim.
The head of Babs' mallet whizzed so closely by his face that his fur was mussed in the breeze. She made contact with Gums and sent him flying into the wall. He slid down to the floor and was still.
"Hey, I wanted to do that," Yakko groaned as he rubbed his head.
Babs was on her knees and staring at Gums. She looked horrorstruck. "Oh my god, look at all that ink…I didn't do that to him, I swear!"
Even in the poor light Yakko could see that the entire back of Gums' head was covered in dark, thick ink.
"No you didn't, that was the Blot. I can tell by just the way it looks," Yakko said grimly. "He must've been controlling Gums."
"Then he knows we're escaping," Babs whispered fearfully.
Yakko's stomach twisted at this horrible thought. Right on cue, a chorus of angry shouts reverberated from down the hall, accompanied with the sounds of pounding feet.
"Go…go go go!" Yakko chanted, pulling Babs to her feet. They hurried down the hall, Yakko all but dragging Babs as they went. His heart was thundering in his chest, his body was aching for rest…they were so close, so close…
"Down here, it's at the end of this hall!" Babs shrieked.
Yakko turned abruptly, too exhausted to talk. They burst through the double doors and into a large, open garage. The black vans were lined up military style in front of a large ramp that presumably led outside.
"Keys, keys!" Babs gasped, pointing toward the far wall. They pushed each other to a long board that held rows and rows of keys, each of them hanging from a hook.
"The numbers…on the tags…license plates…"
"Got it," Yakko said quickly, snatching a set from the wall. He glanced at the tag: SQ4 5TU6.
Babs grit her teeth against the pain as they dashed behind the row of vans. "There, I see it, third one from the end!" he yelled. They came to a skidding halt next to their van, and Yakko handed Babs the keys.
"Sorry Yakko, you have to drive. I don't think I could get us out of the garage with my ankle."
Yakko swallowed, feeling color rise into his face. "Uh…"
Babs nudged him in the ribs. "C'mon Andretti, let's move!"
"Babs, I can't…"
"What?"
"I never learned…"
"Spit it out!"
"I don't know how to drive, okay?" Yakko burst out.
Babs' jaw dropped open and she stared at him in complete disbelief. "I beg your pardon?"
"I grew up on the lot, where was I gonna go? You know I never had a car!" he yelped, feeling himself starting to ramble, desperate to rationalize it, "Buster always drove! And then we moved to New York, and they, unlike LA, have an excellent public transportation system, so there was no point then either. And then when we came back home everything was a mess, so when was I supposed to learn, huh?"
Babs' face contorted in angry disbelief. "Don't you think this is something you should've mentioned before we tried making our getaway in a car?"
"How was I supposed to know, I thought you were going to drive – "
"Who said I was driving – "
"Well I just assumed, little miss Dale Earnhardt – "
An explosion of noise filled the garage. Yakko and Babs whipped around to find a hoard of weasels and guards pouring in through the doors. "Bad, bad!" shrieked the first weasel to spot them.
"Consider this your first lesson!" Babs shouted, shoving the keys back in his hands. Feeling like he didn't have much of a choice, he helped her into the passenger seat before throwing himself behind the wheel.
"Stick the keys in the ignition – "
"Yeah, got that."
"Don't be nervous – "
"Don't got that."
The engine came to life and Yakko tried to swallow but his throat was too dry. Having the feeling they'd be safer back in their cells, he shifted into gear.
"Okay, now, tap the gas pedal, gently – "
One foot on the pedal and they jerked forward, knocking them back in their seats and nearly running over several weasels.
"I said gently!"
"I'm trying!" Yakko cried, his voice jumping several pitches higher.
"It's okay, it's okay," Babs breathed, trying to calm herself as much as him, "just go for that ramp, that's the way out…careful, don't hit anyone, we don't know who the weasels might actually be!"
Yakko swerved to avoid the flocks of weasels as they charged the van. Two of the wheels lost contact with the ground and they tilted dangerously before slamming back down again. Convinced he was going to roll the whole vehicle, Yakko alternated between slamming on the gas and slamming on the brake.
"This isn't the best way to learn ya know," he said through gritted teeth.
"But think, after this highway driving will seem like a piece of cake."
"Gee, thanks."
They had picked up a decent pace when the van suddenly jerked to a wrenching stop. Babs cried out as they both plunged forward into the dashboard.
"I didn't even touch the brake, I swear…wait, where's everybody going?" Yakko wondered aloud.
Every weasel and guard was rushing away from them, pushing others out the way in their haste.
Yakko frowned. "Must've scared them away with my driving."
And then Babs screamed again. Reeling around, Yakko jumped as a thick tentacle of ink slapped itself against her window. Several more followed in a series of heavy splats, shooting up at them from behind. His heart rocketing against his ribcage, Yakko poked his head out the window and looked around. The Blot was charging towards them, surging on bulges of ink as he moved like an odd, land-ridden octopus. His face was twisted in fury, and it seemed as though the entire room had gone cold with fear. The van lurched violently – the Blot was pulling the whole car towards him.
"It's him, it's the Blot!" Yakko yelled.
Babs looked positively ill. "What do we do?"
Yakko pushed the gas pedal to the floor. Burning rubber filled the air as the tires smoked and spun helplessly against the ground. Desperate, Yakko reached into his hammerspace and began pulling out anything he could think of – bricks, bird cages, row boats – and hurled them at the Blot. Babs followed his lead, throwing pies and goats with a frightened passion. But the Blot absorbed everything effortlessly into his bulk.
"It's not working! Yakko, he's getting close!" Babs cried.
Yakko watched the Blot hurtle towards them, his mind blurring with panic and fear…they weren't going to make it…the Blot was going to kill them, he'd never see Wakko and Dot…
And then it clicked. Yakko looked down at his waist. There, in his pocket, was the DIP gun he'd stolen from Bosko. He tore it from his pocket and pumped it once, just as he'd seen Bosko and the others do dozens of times. He could feel the DIP churning and bubbling in the tank, which seemed to grow warmer in his hands. Leaning out of the car, he pointed it at the Blot.
Something flickered in the Blot's eyes at the sight of the gun, and he hesitated. For a split second, he hesitated. Somewhere in his brain, Yakko wanted to hesitate too. He wanted not to be so warped from the Compound that he could shoot DIP at another toon without a thought. But he couldn't, his body seemed to act of its own accord, as though its sense of self-preservation was stronger than his own will. He whipped the gun away from the Blot and aimed it at the main tentacle that was gripping the van. Sucking in his breath against the stench, Yakko squeezed the trigger. The DIP surged out of the gun with tremendous force, jerking the butt of the gun painfully into Yakko's shoulder. The DIP splattered against the tentacle and immediately began to sizzle and burn. The Blot let out a terrible, otherworldly shriek of pain. The tentacle released them like a crack of a whip, and Yakko was nearly thrown out of the car as it shot forward.
Babs dove for the wheel and steered them out of path of massive steel beam. She used her other hand to tug Yakko back into his seat.
"The ramp, go up the ramp!" she cried.
Grabbing the wheel, Yakko swerved and tore onto the ramp, they were going up, higher, they were almost there –
Sunlight, bright and white and beautiful, streamed though the garage door and cut across their faces. It was blinding and Yakko squinted against it, unable to see and praying that they were going straight, resisting the urge break down weeping because he hadn't seen the sun in weeks and had, at one point or another, thought he'd never see it again. He was dimly aware of Babs screaming at him to go faster. They hit some kind of bump, the car bounced forward and through the open door and Yakko knew at once by the sound of the tires that they were driving on dirt and sand.
When his eyes adjusted, Yakko could see a massive expanse of desert ahead of them. The sky was a brilliant blue, just like the day he'd been captured. Glancing in the side view mirror, Yakko caught the door to the Compound shrinking behind them.
"We did it!" Babs shrieked, tears spilling down her face, "We're free!"
They were free…they were free…
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. Yakko laughed, letting out all of his fear and joy and exhaustion. They did not look back as the Compound finally disappeared over the horizon.