Dyscountopia (20 page)

Another animal stood frozen ahead, upright and facing them, apart from the rest of the collection.
 
Even to Albert, who had seen very few animals close-up, it didn’t seem natural.
 
It was immense, at least eight feet tall from hoof to shoulder, with gray naked hide, wide sprawling antlers, and a double horned nose; a taxidermist’s wet dream.
 
Albert cocked his head to the side, hypnotized by the impossible beast’s cold stare.

“What is it?”

Bobo made a series of slow deliberate signs above his head.

“Oh,” said the Doctor.

“What?”

The Doctor sighed.
 
“It’s the Rhinocermoose….”

The eyes suddenly blinked at Albert, shining green and luminous in the artificial light.
 
A spray of steam and snot burst forth from the animal’s nostrils as it raised its front hoof to paw at the tile.
 
Albert felt an intense urge to urinate.

“Fuck me,” whispered the Doctor.

They all stood very still, watching the beast as it watched them back, knowing full well that whatever they did in the next ten seconds would determine the course of the rest of their lives.
 
The animal leaned forward and arched its naked back, coiled like a spring.

“What do we do?” Albert hissed between his teeth.

“Shit our pants?” ventured the Doctor.

Then Bobo broke the stalemate.

“EEEEEEEEEEP!”
 
The chimp flung a well-aimed banana at the monster’s nose and skated into the darkness.
 

A mighty roar filled the room.
 
Albert raced after his fleeing guide, pursued by the sound of heavy breathing and the ringing of hooves against concrete.
 
The beam of his flashlight zig-zagged erratically across the chimp’s hairy back as Bobo leaped over piles of books and dodged through mounds of rusted car parts, scuttling like a spider on all fours.
 
Behind them, the Rhinocermoose crashed headlong through the debris, leaving a path of destruction in its wake.
 
Albert could feel the beast gaining on him, huffing and puffing and spitting and braying.
 
Then, suddenly, Bobo dodged sideways through an open door and vanished.
 
Albert sprang after him, flinging the metal door shut behind them.

There came a dull clang, followed by a loud protest from the Doctor.
 
“Asshole.”

Albert forced his aching muscles to drive him onward, dogging the chimp through a narrow concrete passageway, aware for the first time that Dr. Zayus was right behind him.
 
And right behind him, the Rhinocermoose.
 
Relentless.
 
Merciless.
 
A horrific abomination designed for only one purpose.
 
Mayhem.

The beam of Albert’s light suddenly expanded as the passage opened up ahead.
 
In an amazing feat of acrobatic agility, Bobo sprang forward into the void, deftly clinging to a suspended metal ladder as the floor disappeared below Albert’s feet.
 
Albert toppled forward and then down.
 
Down, down, down; forever down through the darkness until he wondered if he was even falling at all, or simply hanging suspended in mid-air, floating in space.

SPLASH!

An indescribable liquid filth filled Albert’s nose and mouth.
 
He forced his legs underneath him and pushed upward, retching and gasping for air as he broke the foul surface.

“
WAAAAAAAH
!”
 
SPLASH!

Something heavy landed next to Albert, spraying his face with sludge.
 
Albert lifted his extinguished flashlight and shook it, willing the light to turn on.
 
The bulb flickered and ignited, illuminating the shit-covered features of Dr. Zayus.

“Where the hell are we?”

“We fell down another shaft.”

“Where’s Bobo?”

“I don’t --.”

SPLASH!
 
Another body impacted somewhere in the darkness, like a passenger jet nose-diving into the sea.
 
It was much too heavy to be Bobo.

“RUN!”

Albert was already on the move, splashing like mad and lifting his legs high in the air as he fled in slow motion through the thick slimy ooze.
 
His malfunctioning flashlight flickered on the surface of the river ahead, transforming the sewer passage into a sort of perverse subterranean discotheque as, beside him, the Doctor imitated Albert’s own stop-motion dance of panic.
 
Albert’s eyes fixed on a blinking metal grate ahead of him, slightly ajar.
 
He ducked through the grate and kicked it shut behind him.
 
Then he remembered the Doctor.

“Mutherfucker!”

Albert forced the grate back open and grabbed the angry Doctor by the beard, jerking him into the pipe.
 
He shut the grate with a clang and flipped the flashlight off.

Splashsplashsplashsplashsplash
!
 
“BOWOOOOOOOO!”
 
The Rhinocermoose careened past them with a bloody roar, hell-bent on destruction and thoroughly confused.

“Son-of-a- …!”

“Sssshhhhhhh.”
 
Albert slapped his hand over the Doctor’s mouth and pulled him slowly forward along the narrow pipe, careful not to splash.
 
They came up against a metal barrier.
 
Albert flicked the flashlight on again, cupping his hand over the top so that only a few thin strands of light shone through his fingers.

“Another grate.”
 
The Doctor grabbed it and shook.
 
“Corroded shut.
 
We can’t get out this way.”

“Well, we can’t go back the way we came.”

“We’ll have to.”

“Do you think it’s safe?”

“No.”

“Do you think Bobo made it out okay?”

“Fuck Bobo,” said the Doctor.
 
“He got his bananas.
 
Let’s worry about you and me.”

Albert flipped the light back off and listened.
 

Not a sound.
 

“Do you think it’s still out there?”

“Where else would it be?”

“Where the hell did it come from?”

“I dunno,” said the Doctor.
 
“Some scientist trying to win a bet, maybe.
 
Or impress a chick.
 
Maybe some kind of laboratory test animal – did you notice if it was wearing mascara?”

Albert listened again, holding his breath.
 
“Maybe it’s gone away.”

“Maybe it’s standing behind you.”

 
“I don’t hear anything.”

 
“Why don’t you go look for it?” the Doctor suggested.
 
His voice made a soft, tinny echo against the slimy concave surface of the pipe.
 
“I’ll wait here.
 
If I hear a scream and a gurgling noise, I’ll wait a little longer.”

From the corridor outside came the sound of splashing footfalls.
 
The two men fell instantly silent.
 

Splosh.
 
Splosh.
 
Splosh.
 
Splosh.
 

The footfalls grew louder, nearer, then stopped.
 
Albert strained his ears.
 
The Rhinocermoose was out there.
 
Waiting.
 
Hunting them.

Albert went numb.
 
He felt himself falling out of time and space, floating outside his body, an innocent bystander to the bloody tragedy that was about to befall the lumpy, fleshy creature that was him.
 
In a hopeless effort to make sense of it all, he reached backward through time, grasping at random memories, struggling to arrange them in any meaningful order.
 
He saw a wife who loved him more each day, whose eyes pierced his soul and found the beauty there.
 
He saw children playing on the floor, scampering into his outstretched arms as he entered a room.
 
He saw a father who respected him, and co-workers who admired him, and friends who missed him when he wasn’t around.
 
He saw it all as if through a lens smeared with Vaseline; wispy, hazy, unconvincing.
 
They were the false memories of a life that might have been; even as he struggled to bring them into focus, they withered and vanished.
 

The splashing grew closer.
 
Albert could hear the shallow, angry breathing of the Rhinocermoose just outside the grate.
 
A desperate rush of adrenaline surged to his core and a silent prayer sprang into his head, hastily addressed to a vague and formless God.
 
He pleaded for more time, more precious seconds, like a thirsty man in the desert pleading for drops of rain.
 
He screamed silently out through every pore, willing the beast away –
take someone else, anyone else, not me
.
 

And then, as if in answer to his frantic appeal, the footfalls faded away.
 
The monster’s breathing dwindled to silence, and Albert was seized by a bold and reckless resolve.
 
This new gift of time would not be squandered.
 
He would press on.
 
He would claim the life that should have been his.
 

“Screw this,” said the Doctor.
 
“Let’s go back to the roof.”

 
Albert was jarred from his reverie. “What?”

“Give me the flashlight.”

Albert felt the Doctor pawing at him in the dark and recoiled.
 
“What?
 
No.”

“Come on, Albert.
 
It’s time to go.
 
The roof ain’t much, but it beats a Rhinocermoose horn up the ass.”

Albert knocked the groping hand away.
 
“No!”

“Give it to me.”

Doctor Zayus tried to wrench the light from his hand, twisting it and turning it violently as Albert struggled against him in the dark, pulling back.
 
Albert felt a set of teeth dig into his wrist and he let go with a cry. “Yow!”
 

The flashlight came on, lighting up the Doctor’s haggard face.
 
“Come on, Zim.
 
Let’s go.
 
We’re done here.”

“No”, Albert cried.
 
“We can’t go back.
 
Not now.
 
Not to the roof.”

The Doctor grasped his sleeve.
 
“Come on.”

“No, no, NO!”
 
Albert jerked away.
 
“We can’t!
 
We can’t!
 
You promised.”

“I don’t care what I promised,” said the Doctor.
 
“I’m leaving.
 
Are you coming or not?”

“No!”
 
Albert shouted again.
 
“I’m not coming.
 
And you can’t make me!
 
I’m not a Roofer!
 
I’m not a Lifter!
 
I’m not like you.
 
I can make a difference -- I can make them listen.”

“Listen?
 
To what?
 
Nobody’s going to listen to you, Albert; you’re insane.
 
Trust me, I’m a doctor.”