Last Omnibus to the Badlands (Part Two)

A Ticket to the Beginning of the End

PART TWO

Chapter 4

 

 Tim was about to speak when Marjorie put her hand on his shoulder to ensure his continued silence. They sat in Clayton Harris’ office watching him read ‘the story’ with a forgotten cigarette in his right hand. The ash dropped on his desk and he flinched as the remaining butt burnt his finger - having just read that it was about to do so.

‘Goddamn it’ he exclaimed as he dusted the ash from his paperwork. He turned to his two expectant youthful visitors.

‘I hope you kids ain’t messing with me! You think this missing Professor can explain how this spooky story of yours works?’

‘We hope so because we’re at a complete loss to explain it’ said Marjorie.

‘I’ve often wondered what you guys do next door, now I’m kinda sorry I’ve found out. Have the police been informed of his disappearance?’

‘Oh the cops would have no idea and probably don’t have the manpower to devote to the case’ replied Tim with an exaggerated insight into the workings of the police.

‘What about this guy ‘Wez’ who claims to be the writer in his own story - have you contacted him?’

‘We sent an email to Wez Hardyn but, of course, that’s only his avatar and we’ve had no response. It could be someone entirely different using the name and one of Wez’s characters in his own story - we have no way of knowing’

‘Well it looks like I need to find both of these ‘characters’ to get some answers - $300 a day and expenses and I’ll take the case’

‘That is agreeable Mr. Harris. We are both available for any ‘leg work’ you might have’ said Tim smiling. Clayton Harris sighed and stood up.

‘Call me Clay. I’ll be in touch as soon as I have any news. How in the devil did the author know I was going to be involved in this caper?’

‘For that matter Clay, how does he, she or it know any of us?’ said a wide eyed Marjorie.

 

 

 Wez felt a strong grip on his shoulder that shook him awake. Twelvetrees looked down on him with his finger to his lips urging silence.

‘We have company’ he said, looking into the distant twilight of early dawn.

Wez rubbed his eyes and peered in the direction of the Lakota’s gaze. He saw nothing but deferred to his companion’s superior senses. Twelvetrees handed him a familiar rifle.

‘You know how to use one of these, white man?’

‘Enough of this white man crap, call me Wez - and yeah I can use an AK47’

Twelvetrees smiled and nodded:

‘I think there are about six of them. I will speak to them but fire over their heads if they get aggressive and hopefully that’ll give me time to find cover’

Presently six figures emerged from the early morning mist. They were heavily built and seemed to be wearing gas masks and carrying what looked like weapons. Twelvetrees stood up:

‘Stop there, who are you and what do you want of us?’

The figures paused and looked at each other in silence as if they were confused about what they should do. After a few moments one of their number was reluctantly urged forwards. The crackling of a communication device eventually gave way to a voice:

‘We are the Thoka, give us the story teller and we will leave in peace’

‘What do you want with him?’ asked the Lakota.

After another silence the crackling voice said:

‘We are the Thoka, we do not explain ourselves to lesser species " send out the story teller’

‘What if we refuse?’

The spokesperson looked behind him at his companions, who all shrugged. Turning back he said:

‘We wish you no harm but we must have him’

‘I tire of your conversation, you’ll have to come and get him’

At that moment they all raised their weapons and Wez tore the morning silence to shreds with a blast of gunfire over the heads of the Thoka. Twelvetrees leapt back to his position next to Wez as the Thoka scattered firing volleys of green light that burnt everything in its path.

‘Looks like they are desperate for your company - do you know these characters?’

‘Unfortunately I think I do, they’re from a very advanced ancient alien culture’ replied Wez.

‘I recognized their name; it’s Lakota for alien’ said Twelvetrees dodging a laser blast. ‘We better get back to the bus - I’ll cover you while you head back’

Wez ran back urging the bus’s inhabitants to keep their heads down. The Thoka began advancing as Twelvetrees followed Wez back. Wez turned and reluctantly fired directly into their ranks bringing one of the aliens down. They paused and then all hell broke loose. They fired into the bus, rocking it violently and provoking screams from within. Twelvetrees took another down as both the AK’s fired into the advancing aliens. Suddenly Wez felt a tremendous pain in his leg and realized he’d been hit. He crawled behind a rock to nurse his wound. Peering over the edge of the boulder he saw Twelvetrees nail another of the aliens and let out a warrior’s  war cry before he too was hit. He slumped to the ground still pulling the trigger of an empty gun. The aliens advanced and stood over him.

‘Where is the story teller?’ one of the three remaining Thokans asked.

‘Go to hell’ replied Twelvetrees.

They raised their weapons and aimed at his head. Suddenly a burst of automatic gunfire rang out accompanied by three exploding alien heads. Twelvetrees and Wez looked around to see Caroline holding a smoking AK47.

‘I’m not a morning person’ she said, shrugging apologetically ‘especially when rudely awoken by uninvited guests’

 

Chapter 5

 

‘You have some news, Mr. Harris, I mean Clay?’ said Tim excitedly.

‘Well one thing’s for sure kid; you don’t take any interest in international news, do you?’

Tim turned to Marjorie who could only shrug with a blank expression.

Clay threw a newspaper onto his desk. They read: ‘Bus disappears into thin air: Mystery deepens as police find no clues.’

‘You mean it’s the bus in the story?’

‘Not only that kid, among the listed passengers was a guy called Wesley something or other’

‘It happened in England " that’s where Wez Hardyn is from’ exclaimed Marjorie.

‘Have you informed the English police?’ asked Tim.

‘Yeah, sure, and tell them what exactly? That a bus has been transported in time and space; and that my evidence for this is that crazy story you have online?’

‘I see what you mean - not very convincing is it? What about Professor McNulty, any luck tracing him?’

‘Had a bit more work to do with the good professor but I know how to contact him. His elderly mother is in a nursing home and I managed to get one of the nurses there to admit he visits her secretly every Tuesday evening. By the way, that cost me 50 bucks which I’ll be adding to my rate’

‘It’s Tuesday today, are you going to speak with him?’

‘Correction, you’re going to speak with him - what do I know about literary theory?’

 

They waited in Clay’s rusty Camaro trying not to inhale the smoke from his cheap cigars. After about an hour Clay pointed at a furtive looking individual approaching the home.

‘Is that your man?’ he asked.

‘I can’t be sure at this distance but it could be’ replied an excited Marjorie.

At that moment Clay noticed two other large looking individuals who seemed to be following McNulty. He thought he saw the glint of a gun barrel under the street lamp and instinctively grabbed his own magnum and opened his door.

‘You kids stay put, I don’t like the look of this’ he said before he stealthily approached the two figures. As he got closer he could see that the guys following McNulty were wearing what looked like gas masks!

‘This caper’s getting weirder by the minute’ he thought.

Suddenly the guys in the masks saw him and started firing. Clay dived to the ground and returned fire. One of his shots spun one of his adversaries like a top before he fell. The other one was taking pot shots at McNulty. Clay took careful aim and killed the would be assassin where he stood. He walked up to the bodies and thought he heard the crackling of an intercom. He kicked their guns away from them and turned to see if McNulty was still alive. He could see the doctor’s body curled up like a fetus hugging a briefcase to his face. He was trembling uncontrollably.

‘You been hit?’ asked Clay.

‘W, what?’ said McNulty.

‘Have you been shot?’ asked Clay impatiently.

‘Don’t shoot, I have money, please don’t kill me’

‘Listen pal, I’m the guy who just risked his butt to save your sorry a*s, so tell me if you’re wounded or so help me I will shoot you myself’

Just then Tim and Marjorie came running up.

‘Man oh man, you sure know how to shoot’ said Tim admiringly.

The adrenaline was beginning to subside and Clay reholstered his gun and wiped his brow.

‘Yeah, it’s been a while since I was in a fire fight. Look after this guy while I take a look at the bodies over …’

Clay’s voice trailed off as he turned to see that the bodies had vanished.

 

‘But how could the bodies just disappear like that?’ asked Wez

He and Twelvetrees were both resting their injured legs as Caroline finished the dressings.

‘Seems to me that just about anything’s possible on this trip’ said Stuart the bus driver.

‘Do you reckon there’ll be more of them?

‘If they have the technology to transport their dead then I think they’ll be back. What do you think they wanted you for Wez?’ asked Twelvetrees.

‘OK, let’s try and get our ducks in a row; I created the alien race called the Thoka in another story but since we parked the bus here this story is no longer mine. Someone or something is continuing the story I began; possibly the Thokans intercepted this story when it failed to upload on the Café website?’ Wez pondered.

‘So you’re saying that characters you have created are now writing their own story - but how and why?’ said Caroline.

‘Well we know they are desperate to get their hands on me so it’s logical to assume they brought me here’

‘But why the rest of us as well?’

‘Because you were all part of the story and I had imagined us all being transported here; I think they can only exist within this hijacked storyline - which explains why they were unsuccessful since I initially created resourceful and unpredictable characters like yourself Caroline. But I don’t understand what they want with me’

‘I have a suggestion’ said Twelvetrees.

‘I have my time machine parked a few miles from here. Perhaps Wez and I can use it to prevent the story ever being intercepted?’

‘I had considered that, but you know the implications of doing so?’ replied Wez

‘I think I do’ said Caroline

‘If you take Wez back to before he attempted to upload this story and he doesn’t upload it then all of us (characters in this story) will cease to exist - he will, in effect, be killing us’

 

                                 *******************************************************

 

Sargon was disappointed but not surprised. His race were used to being spectators but when it came to action they showed lamentable aptitude. The deaths of his six agents was shocking -the first such fatalities for over one hundred years. But he knew he could not give up. Thokans were addicted to humanity. Without them they would have nothing; no entertainment, no culture, no vicarious emotions - indeed no emotions at all. Their technology had given them immortality and the crushing boredom that goes with it. He knew that with the absence of humanity his culture would end in mass suicide. He could not allow humans to evolve along the same path as The Thoka had done millennia ago - and that meant Wez and McNulty must die.

 

Chapter 6

 

Professor McNulty was sipping a cup of coffee in Clayton Harris’ office and was being observed closely by the detective and his two operatives when Robert Pretorius joined them:

‘That was a close call - I must congratulate you Mr. Harris on your resourcefulness’ he said.

Clay grunted.

‘I take it you have just read about it all in ‘the story’?’ acknowledged Marjorie.

‘Indeed so. How are you feeling Professor?’

McNulty looked up from his beverage, still trembling:

‘So it’s happened?’ he asked.

‘If you mean your prediction about the synthesis of fiction and reality then perhaps it has. Did you create ‘the story’ to substantiate your theory?’ said Pretorius, to the surprise of his companions. McNulty began to laugh, a queer hollow little laugh.

‘If only you knew the fear I’ve lived with since I wrote that damn book. It occurred to me that the discoverer of the truth about our destiny would be the first of its victims. Now here I am, despite all my precautions, a protagonist in the Meta-narrative’

‘The what?’ said Clay.

‘It’s the story that will include all other stories being conceived and written’ said Tim with his usual enthusiasm. ‘Fiction will become our reality’

‘I prefer to conceive it the other way around my young friend’ said a relaxing McNulty.

‘Our reality will become fiction. A return, if you like, to the time when all knowledge was rooted in mythology and religion - our original stories’

‘But who is writing this Meta-narrative of yours?’ inquired Pretorius skeptically.

‘It doesn’t really matter historically; it’s inevitable that someone of great imagination will start it sooner or later. The culture awaits him and will embrace this last individual and subsume his story into the last narrative’

‘Balderdash!’ said Pretorius angrily.

‘How can the author know me or Mr. Harris there?’

‘He knows us because he created us - or more precisely ‘the story’, as you call it, needed us so we were created’

‘But you discovered this nightmare, how can you be a result of it?’

‘And yet, here I am’ said McNulty resignedly.

‘Sounds like a lot of religious mumbo jumbo to me’ shrugged Clay.

‘A very astute observation Mr. Harris’ said McNulty ‘As the creations of God we were fulfilling his story - he knew our destiny. But we now know that it was the reverse and that mankind created God, and now we, in our turn, are being created by our own narrative. Mankind always thought that science and technology was our destiny but it seems it is art that defines our future - quite a shock to the likes of physicists and mathematicians who regard the arts as mere cultural distraction’

Suddenly there was the sound of the entrance below being blown in.

‘No guesses as to who’s gate crashing this party " here we go again’ said Clay reaching for his trusty revolver. ‘Who are these guys?’

 

Wez was silent as he rode behind Twelvetrees. Caroline’s accusation of murder was weighing heavily on his heart. Because he created the characters on the bus did that give him a right to destroy them? He didn’t know if Twelvetrees’ plan would work and he had promised that they would return if it didn’t, to help them face whatever the story had in store. Perhaps he should surrender to the Thoka? But that would leave the passengers at their mercy - not to mention his own fate. Perhaps it was his ego that demanded he should try to regain control of his own story? The more he thought about it the more confused he became.

‘Something I need to ask you Wez’ said Twelvetrees.

‘Go ahead but I warn you I’m quickly running out of answers’

‘If we are successful does that mean that I will be annihilated along with the others?’

‘At least that’s one question I can answer with some confidence. You’ll continue to exist, along with myself, because we are part of other stories. Are you frightened Twelvetrees?’

‘A man without fear cannot experience courage’ replied the Lakota.

‘I knew you would say that’ said Wez, smiling.

Finally they reached Twelvetrees’ time capsule and strapped themselves in.

‘Make sure we can return to exactly this time and place if things go wrong’ said Wez.

‘I understand your loyalty Wez, are you expecting it to go wrong?’

‘Oh yes, after all if I can’t figure out what’s going to happen next in a story I created then what chance does anyone else have of predicting events?’

 

‘I don’t suppose either of you guys can handle a gun?’ asked Clay.

Tim and Robert both shook their heads.

‘Surely with all the noise the police will be here immanently?’ shouted Robert above the gathering violence of the Thoka’s assault.

‘In my experience they’re rarely where you need them until it’s too late. Take this shotgun and the rifle and point them away from me and at the door - pull the trigger when the spooks get in here’

The furniture they had piled up against the door was beginning to give way under the alien firepower. Finally it all crashed to the floor and they glimpsed the green eyes within the gas masks before they opened fire simultaneously. The aliens fell back upon each other as they died, but still they kept coming. Finally Clay’s revolver ran out of bullets as did the other two guns.

‘Well, looks like this is it, seems a pity I’m never gonna know what this is all about’ said Clay.

‘Come on you green eyed b******s, let’s get to it’

At that moment they heard the sound of a different type of gun and the remaining aliens fell to the ground in response to this new gunfire. As the smoke dispersed Clay could have sworn he saw an American Indian holding an AK 47!

 

To be continued.

Reviews

[VALORMORE DE PLUME]

I'm liking this more as it thickens. Character combinations, play well off each other adding texture to the narrative. I'd like to see the storyboard, to keep track of the growing number of characters, within differing storylines.

[Wez Hardyn]

I'm loving this running commentary as you read - it kinda reflects the story-line. Upon reading it again myself I see that during the transition from the page to the Cafe some of the punctuation has been mashed - which explains your former query.

[VALORMORE DE PLUME]

So far, I am impressed by several things:
1. I've never been much of a reader. I get lost easily, because my mind wanders out ahead of and off to the right or left of where the plot is going. Particularly when bogged down by lengthy scene depiction.
2. I like how you handle dialogue. I know who is speaking without constant he said, she said. So, I've learned something, in that I need to trust the reader's ability to discern.
3. Your characters have personality traits instead of
a focus on their avatar images.
4. The plot is complex and unpredictable, yet logical as it connects with the hindsight of elements of the developing seperate stories as they meld.
5. Chapter length is appropriate, allowing digestion before taking another bite.
6. It is unusual for me to comment on structure and style, as I'm barely beyond amature within the art of writing.

[Tegon Maus]

Always interesting Wez ! A story written by the characters themselves... genius !!