Sly Cooper and the Amnesiac Tag-Along - Chapter 9 - The Twisted Swamp Path of Love and Lies
Dougie was disturbed by the movement of the guys in the hideout getting ready for the day, forcing her eyes to snap open after the massive crash of a door being closed too hard. Sunlight slithered into the room between the cracks of the curtains, lighting up the dust dancing across the carriage. Gingerly, she propped herself up, taking care to ensure she didn't catch her ribs, which were beginning to feel like they were on fire. She could make out Murray's voice through the walls, chattering excitedly about something. Intrigued, she tossed the duvet to one side and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, flinching as she accidentally moved too quickly, twinging her ribs. She heard Bentley respond to Murray's enthusiastic statement, but it was too muffled for her to make it out properly. She decided to get up and join in with the guys' discussion, curious to see if Bentley was about to announce their next step.
Sometimes all they need is a little nudge, Dougie thought to herself as she recalled the delicate kiss the pair shared the night before. A smile played on her lips as she sifted through her bag for a fresh change of clothes. Choosing to ignore the incriminating evidence of her involvement with the police force back home, she chose a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with a metal band's logo printed across the front. What should've taken her a maximum of two minutes to don this attire took her almost ten as she clumsily wiggled out of the night shirt and painfully inched into the new one, every sudden movement and awkward stretch sending shockwaves down her side. She ran a quick hairbrush through her brunette curls before raiding the pocket of her jacket for her pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Satisfied she had everything she needed, she exited her compartment, greeted the three guys from across the carriage, and headed out the door on her right.
Pale sunlight filled the air, and the cold tickle of autumn spread through her fur. She took a seat on the metallic steps outside the doorway, immediately feeling the cold spread across her as she sat down. Regretting leaving her jacket inside, and disgruntled by the fact she now had a cold arse, Dougie took a cigarette out of the pack and placed it between her lips. As she lifted up her lighter, the door behind her clicked open, a bespectacled turtle emerging from the carriage.
"Good morning, Mona," he said as he took a seat beside her. With a click, a flame leapt from the lighter and lit her cigarette. She took a quick drag as her companion joined her.
"Morning, handsome," Dougie replied as she exhaled. "What time did you go to bed last night?"
Bentley's voice caught in his throat. Did she really think that he was... handsome?
"Uh... n-n-not long after you retired for the night," Bentley stuttered, feeling the heat radiate from his face. "We're going to make our move... soon."
"So you've finally decided to put some faith in your own abilities?" she asked as she shuffled closer to him, the pair touching. "It's about time, I thought we were gonna be stuck here forever!" Bentley shook his head as he grinned to himself. The pep talk he received from the rabbit last night was much-needed, and incredibly appreciated.
"Thank you for pushing me in the right direction," Bentley responded warmly, offering a soft smile. "I just don't want another instance of broken bones... or worse." With her free hand, Dougie took hold of Bentley's and gave it a gentle squeeze. Bentley returned the squeeze, prompting his new partner to emit a delicate chuckle.
"No worries, we sometimes all have a knock that affects our confidence," she replied. Bentley nodded in agreement. "And sometimes we get a good knock to the head which can screw you up and dump you with a band of thieves," Dougie laughed as she flicked ash from the end of her cigarette with one hand while rubbing her thumb across the back of Bentley's hand with the other.
"You say it like it's a bad thing!" Bentley exclaimed, his voice reverberating slightly in the still air.
"Not at all, could be the best damn thing that's ever happened to me," Dougie returned as she gave the turtle a good-natured nudge. "It definitely offers a new perspective, that's for sure."
"Meaning?"
"Everyone assumes all criminals are evil, ruthless people who do bad things because they're, well, evil," the rabbit elaborated, carefully weighing her words, not wanting to give anything away. "You guys are criminals because you're exceptionally good at stealing stuff. But you're not all bad, I've noticed there's a code you guys stick to, no one innocent has been caught up in your antics."
"You sound like you disapprove," Bentley observed. His brow furrowed as he processed what Dougie had just said. She took a quick drag before continuing.
"Nah, not exactly," she returned with a shake of her head. A loose curl swung across her face, prompting her to flick it aside. "I guess that I used to, at first. But I've learned that it's not all black-and-white. I mean, you could easily be a villainous mastermind."
"What makes you say that I'm not?"
"Because we're sitting outside an abandoned train carriage, and not in some high-tech, heavily guarded fortress!" Dougie cracked as she stubbed out her cigarette on the step.
"Everyone has to start somewhere."
"True." She rolled her eyes at his deadpan quip. "You're also not rubbing your hands together menacingly."
"One can start."
"You're impossible!"
"Correct." Bentley accompanied this with a slow, steady nod, prompting Dougie to mutter good-humoured obscenities under her breath. She couldn't believe how much of a dork this genius was being right now. It was simultaneously frustrating and endearing to the rabbit; she didn't know whether to whack him or kiss him.
No, of course she wanted to kiss him, but it was time for the task at hand. She stood up and took a step towards the door.
"Come on, Brainiac. Let's hear the lowdown of your meticulously detailed scheme."
"I'm sorry, but did you say she has an army of ghosts?" Dougie queried, her jaw open with disbelief. "You're having me on."
"No, I'm serious. Mz. Ruby is from a family of mystics. She has the ability to raise the dead."
"But that's... impossible!" she challenged Bentley. From what she had read, she thought the file notes were only rumours, but she couldn't tell him that. Seeing the calculating genius adamant that such a feat was possible was not a stand she was expecting him to take. "Are you suggesting that we should pack a ouija board and some salt with us or something?"
"Of course not," Bentley replied with a short shake of his head. "I'm suggesting that we should expect some bizarre events with this one."
Sighing deeply, Dougie leaned back in her seat as she cocked a skeptical eyebrow. She caught Sly's gaze, who responded with a shrug that said roll with it.
"I'm still surrounding the van with a salt ring when we arrive, just to be safe. Sorry Sly, but I'm now kinda glad I have to miss this one."
"And I'm still sad I have to miss the company," Sly responded as he twisted his cap in his hands.
"You'll live. That is, if you don't need me to pull your tail out of the fire this time."
"Hey, that was one time!" Sly whined in a mock-upset manner, tossing his cap onto the end of Bentley's desk.
"And I'm keeping score, Cooper," she retorted as she flicked her ears. She raised a leg up onto her seat and leaned on her knee. Witnessing that pose again transported Bentley back to the night before, excitement soundtracked by mechanical computer sounds, apprehension illuminated by monitor light. And then Murray, tucked away in the corner and perched on a stool, decided to produce a line that made the turtle turn grey:
"Hey guys, enough with the flirting!"
Dougie glanced at Murray, then at Sly, before switching back to Murray.
"Oh, ew. Absolutely not."
"You said that a little too fast."
"I couldn't have said it quicker if I wanted to. No offence pal, you're too big-brothery for my taste."
The raccoon thief rolled his eyes. It had been the first time in his life that he had been explicitly rejected by a woman (on the same side of the law, at least), let alone hypothetically rejected by one. It was also at this point where Sly recognized the quick glances shot between the rabbit and the turtle. Feeling his ears lift upwards, he recalled the timidity between the pair over the last couple of weeks, Bentley's distress when Dougie returned injured, and now the asthmatic turtle excusing himself to join the rabbit's smoke break before this briefing.
And of course, the sickly grey-green shade the turtle was currently sporting was rather telling to Sly. Bentley never had the best poker face when it came to girls.
"Because you're-" Sly started, before an icy death glare and a slight shake of the head from Dougie were enough to stop him in his tracks. A piercing stare that said, Don't you dare. He folded his arms in resignation, knowing he would get a chair launched at him if he tried to press any further. He couldn't help but feel a warm sense of pride grow in his chest as he looked across at Bentley, discovering that he had finally hit it off with someone, despite his confidence being his own biggest obstacle.
"Why are you smirking?" Dougie quizzed before she started chewing her lip. Sly flicked his eyebrows, but said nothing, which rubbed the rabbit the wrong way. "Alright then, guess I'm going for a smoke."
"Didn't you just have one fifteen minutes ago?" Murray asked.
"Uh huh, and now I need another. Back in five."
She exited the carriage without saying another word, slamming the door behind her a little too hard. She leaned on the railing and buried her face in her hands. The crisp breeze did little to cool her temper. She wasn't yet ready for her involvement with Bentley to be common knowledge, especially since she had been playing with the possibility of having to leave at the end of the journey. Dougie toyed with different ways of wrapping things up. Should she come clean and face the backlash? Or slip away and return when loose ends had been tied up, and try to evade the awkward questions?
"So how long has this been going on for?" Sly's sultry voice snuck up from behind, startling her. She spun around to see him sporting the biggest, most smug grin she had ever seen. She went to hit him, but stopped herself. She stepped up to the raccoon, who backed up against the carriage door. He raised his hands in surrender, but he was never going to drop the confident, knowing smile plastered to his face. Dougie's scowl intensified as her irritation grew.
"The next time you sneak up on me, I will actually punch you," she warned. "I can't be held accountable for my actions when you scare me."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take."
"And lose the shit-eating grin!"
"No promises." The grin didn't falter, prompting a deflated sigh from Dougie.
"Then promise me this; please keep this between us. Bentley and myself, it started in Mesa," she explained. Sly noticed her mouth flickering into a smile at the mention of the turtle. "Call it seizing the moment or whatever, but I kind of kissed him before the wild wager race Murray got us tangled up in."
Sly watched the fury leave her face, only for it to be replaced with a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty. He figured it would be better to hear her out rather than continue poking the fire.
"You kissed him?" he asked softly as he leaned against the railing.
"Yeah," she confirmed with a slow nod, "and last night as well."
"Really?" he asked as he ran a hand through his hair. He couldn't believe that Bentley would allow a lapse in concentration during a job. Nothing would crack his professionalism. Unless...
"Really, and we're still figuring out what's going on, and we've decided to see where things go once we're finished with the Fiendish Five. So I'd rather not have you guys swoop in and make a big deal out of it. I like him. And I mean I really like him. Please."
Sly noted the soft pleading in her voice, accompanied by the wide-eyed anxiety shimmering in her eyes. A young, smitten teenager who was bashful having admitted her feelings out loud to someone else, blushing, frequently breaking any kind of prolonged eye contact almost as soon as it was reinitiated.
"Of course."
"Thank you, Sly." Dougie offered a clenched fist towards the raccoon, who bumped it with a gloved fist of his own.
"No worries. So, you really like him?"
"Shut up!" she retorted as she slugged Sly in the arm.
The apprehension radiated off Bentley as the van trundled up the dread swamp path. His jaw was set, his expression stony. Sly stretched, limbering himself up for another evening of running and scaling through enemy territory. Cities and boats were one thing, swamps were a different location entirely. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in an oversaturated pool of mud. He looked across at Dougie, who was sat across from Bentley and nervously twirling a cigarette between her fingers. Murray hadn't said a word in hours either. Sly knew these three weren't fans of the build-up before a job. The tension was so thick inside the van, it was stifling for the thief.
Peering through the windshield, Sly saw the distant shape of a giant alligator skull looming over the swamp.
"I think we've found her," Dougie voiced, appearing next to him all of a sudden.
"At least I don't have to worry about getting lost."
"No, but you do have to worry about getting up there. I doubt there's a ladder knocking about for you to use."
"One problem at a time, please."
"Yes, boss."
Sly adjusted his backpack to make sure it was strapped securely as they neared their destination. He took a moment to recall the pages of the Thievius Raccoonus he had retrieved from Muggshot's lair, penned by Tennessee "Kid" Cooper, knowing he was going to need them to navigate the swamp's slippery vines and outstretched branches. Whether he would be able to pull these moves off would be a literal leap of faith. And with that thought, he felt his stomach knot ever-so-slightly.
Maybe today might end with a mud bath.
The fleeting thought made the fur on the back of his neck stand on end, and he quickly dismissed it. There was no use expecting the worst outcome. He'd been exceptionally lucky so far, and hoped the streak would continue. This time, he wouldn't need a moody rabbit to come to the rescue. He watched as she continued to fidget in her seat, noticing the reassuring glances between herself and Bentley. He felt an approving smile play on his lips before continuing to warm himself up.
Two drastically different individuals were drawn to each other during the most unlikely of circumstances. If he hadn't been so fixated on Inspector Fox, and if Bentley hadn't been so smitten with her, he might have considered attempting his advances on the fiery rabbit. Her hot-headed nature and her daring attitude were certainly up his alley. Of course, this time around, it wasn't meant to be. He briefly wondered if Carmelita would ever consider putting aside their differences, before realising that someone as dedicated to the law as her would never pass up the opportunity to throw him behind bars. He knew that was her only desired outcome.
Sly emitted a soft sigh as he concluded his thought process. Murray's three-point turn of the van was Sly's cue that it was time to start his trek towards Mz. Ruby's Skull Temple. After a quick round of high-fives and fists bumps between Sly and the three gang members, the raccoon swung the van's rear doors open and made his way outside. The humidity hit him like a wave, stifling his breathing. The rain tumbled down and soaked into his fur, advertising that he had entered the Haitian jungle.
Sly hopped out of the van and nearly slipped on the wet grass underfoot. Regaining his balance, he took in his surroundings. Numerous trees emerged from the marshy ground, reaching upwards, their foliage delicately bobbing in the breeze. A single vine snaked away from a tree only a few meters ahead, resting on a solitary mini-island connected to the land Sly was standing on by a single branch, its bark on top stripped away.
Sly began a light jog towards the branch and took a steady, tentative step onto it. Outstretching his arms for balance, he planted his other foot in front of him, and scampered across this makeshift walkway. As he reached the other side, he mentally thanked his gunslinging ancestor before pressing on. He gazed up at the solitary vine above him and plotted a way to get up there. A concrete statue with wide, fiery eyes and a gaping maw stared at him. The raccoon stared back, and saw the perfect path to climb up to the top of the statue. He wedged his booted foot into one of the crevices of the cracked stone and reached up for one of the statue's nostrils for a handhold. With a slight grunt, the thief heaved himself up.
Dougie watched Sly ascend the statue from the back of the van, her thoughtful, composed posture complete with a lit cigarette in hand. The wind whisked some loose ash into the distance. Standing on top of the statue, Sly turned and shot her a quick thumbs-up. She returned with a two-fingered salute. He leapt onto the green, overreaching vine and slid off into the swamp.
As she centered her thoughts, she took a quick drag. Step three out of five; they were essentially at the halfway point. As she exhaled, she realized she was running out of time. Dougie knew she had to quit. There was no way she could return to her normal life after contributing to the capers of the Cooper Gang. It would be dishonest to the police, and she'd be lying to herself too.
Lying to Bentley.
That thought twisted her stomach, to be deceitful to him. Surely he had to see right through her. There was no chance he didn't suspect something was up with her. That was just it; he was too trusting. She took a quick glance at Bentley, quietly tapping away at his laptop, the screen reflected in the lenses of his glasses. The warm, fuzzy feeling crept into her chest again, the way it always did when she looked at him.
She could feign a miraculous memory recovery once all was said and done. She could say she needed to head home and tie up some loose ends before returning, water her plants, something. Only two or three weeks would be needed to check in on everything before heading back. Her stomach knotted at the prospect of screwing this up, even though none of this was technically her fault. It's not like she actively planned to land in this situation.
She pinched the bridge of her nose as if trying to force the negativity away. All she could do in the meantime was wait for everything to play out.
But she never was particularly patient.
Sliding to the end of a second series of vines, Sly was greeted by a narrow mud track, the start marked by two lit torches on either side. Long grass and bushes framed the path. The flickering flames did little to invite Sly to proceed further, having just narrowly escaped from two, oversized and bulbous mosquitoes, but he knew he had to press on regardless. Gazing up, he noticed the tunnel lying ahead was cut through an enormous tree trunk. Even straining his neck, he was unable to see the top of the tree. He was about to take a couple of steps back to see if he could, but the bubbling mud behind him made him decide against it.
He moved into the tunnel, ducking and weaving to avoid getting hit in the face by the dangling foliage above. Sly was beginning to feel the effects of the humidity in the air. Each breath he took felt moist and unpleasant, and he was already beginning to feel the sweat breaking through his shirt. He took a few more steps before stopping in his tracks. A series of twisted branches and thick trunks stretched across the tunnel, blocking the path ahead.
Sly cocked an eyebrow as he crouched down for a closer look. Roots peeled away from the base of the trunks, yet didn't seem to bury into the soft earth at all, sitting on the surface instead. There were gaps between the trunks, which he figured he would have to wiggle through to proceed. He approached the twisting tree from the side he figured it would be easier to slip through. Before he could take another step closer, a branch swung towards him, forcing the raccoon to launch backwards, landing hard on his behind.
He looked up at the tree-thing, the branch that came towards him looking more like a thick, misshapen arm ending in long, spindly twigs for fingers. Its other arm ripped free from the ground, spraying a shower of dirt in Sly's direction. Piercing, yellow eyes opened on its rotund head, vines trailing down like messy hair. The thief couldn't comprehend the creature towering in front of him, but he knew he had little time to react. He scrabbled back to his feet and readied his cane.
Moving on all fours, the creature took a rapid step towards Sly, moving faster than he expected for its size. He could feel the impact of the step through the ground, the shockwaves travelling up his legs. The monster took another. And another. Knowing he had very few options, he took a hefty swing at the monster's head, expecting it to bounce straight off.
The head ripped off cleanly, rolling to the ground. The stump of the monster's neck sprayed green goo in all directions, coating the walls of the tunnel. Except the torso of the monster kept coming! The decapitated head rolled itself upright and started hopping towards Sly.
Two versus one.
The head approached quicker than the torso, leaving a trail of green behind as it pursued. Sly felt the best solution to deal with this menace was to swing his leg into its face, sending the head flying towards the end of the tunnel, over the edge and into the swamp water on the other side. Now only the torso was left. It marched towards Sly, closing the gap between the two. It lashed a heavy arm out, which Sly ducked away from with ease. With the hook of his cane, he snagged the other arm of the creature and gave a massive tug. The arm was yanked away and the torso tumbled to the ground. Sly leapt on top of it, and drove his cane down hard on the creature. It went still.
Sly waited for thirty seconds or so in case the creature decided to grab at him again. Convinced it was down, Sly figured it would be a good idea to let the team know they were in for a lot more than they bargained for.
Sly's voice chimed in through the gang's comms systems.
"Hey Dougie, how bad are your ribs?"
Dougie, who was still perched at the back of the van and had just stubbed out her cigarette, jumped at the sudden sound of her earpiece crackling to life. She clutched her ribs and winced as she twinged them. "Still pretty bad. Why'd you ask?"
"Wanna see a swamp monster?"
"You're pulling my leg."
"No, I'm serious. It's like a tree mutant come to life. At least, it was. You coming?"
Dougie grinned from ear to ear. "Absolutely! Whereabouts are you?" She clumsily pulled herself up and took two steps away from her seat.
"Mona, get back in the van. You're not going anywhere," Bentley called from inside, placing his laptop on the seat beside him. He hopped down and made his way to the back doors.
"Benny, I promise I'll go there and then come straight back."
"No! You could barely move around the hideout this morning!"
"But it's a swamp monster! I've always wanted to see one..." Bentley cocked a skeptical eyebrow, which broke Dougie into another crooked grin. "... ever since I discovered they were real, like a minute ago. Come on, you can't tell me you're not curious too?"
"I'm not curious enough to risk you going out there."
The pair froze, staring at each other. Dougie knew she couldn't continue pressing. She knew he was right. He was always right. And she knew he was silently saying, I don't want you to get hurt again. Not like last time. I can't go through that again.
"Hey Ribs," Sly piped up, having clued into Bentley's anxiety, "on second thought, you should probably listen to the turtle. I'll grab a picture for you."
"Thanks, mate."
The connection was cut.
Dougie shuffled on the spot awkwardly before reclaiming her seat at the back of the van. "You know I was only joking, right? I can barely get out of bed without crying, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." She patted the spot next to her, inviting Bentley to join. He complied.
"Glad to hear it."
"Besides, you saying Mz. Ruby can raise the dead was an instant dealbreaker. If I so much as even see a ghost, I'm out of here."
"You don't like ghosts?"
Dougie shook her head and shuddered. "And anything supernatural. I once watched a vampire film when I was a kid, it gave me nightmares for weeks. And don't even get me started on Halloween..."
"Not a fan?"
"October is easily my least favorite month; the decorations creep me out."
"Noted." A smile crept across Bentley's face. "Seems like your memory is returning."
Dougie froze and mentally scolded herself for being so careless, before resuming. "I guess so. Snippets."
"Progress is still progress, don't be so hard on yourself."
"I'll try," Dougie replied, before planting a soft kiss on the turtle's cheek. Bentley's face flushed pink, forcing a soft giggle from the rabbit. She rested her head against his and watched the rain float through the air, not daring to disturb the moment by speaking. She also fought to ignore the guilt rising within her.
Only three more members, then it's finished.
The agony of the wait was killing her, slowly eating away at her sanity. She didn't know how long it would be before she cracked.
This took me so much longer to piece together than I would have liked. I'll admit I struggled to put this one together, but I hope it was at least worth the wait.
Thanks again for stopping by! Hopefully it won't be anywhere near as long a wait next time.
Take care
~Subtle