Major Karnage (14 page)

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Authors: Gord Zajac

Tags: #Science Fiction, #Satire

BOOK: Major Karnage
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Karnage decided his best bet to get inside was to get in line and
wait his turn. He took a place at the end of the line. The woman in
front of him was reading a book. The front cover showed a bluehaired man wearing a bowler hat stroking his chin. The title read,
“Awaken The Worm Within.” The woman looked up from her book
at Karnage, and smiled.

“Hello,” she said.

Karnage gave her his best imitation of a smile. “Hello.”
She cocked her head. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“Funny. I was thinkin’ the same about you.”

She gave a sheepish grin. “True enough. I mostly come on Arbiter’s Day. I find the line is just too long otherwise. I know we’re
supposed to come more often than that, but . . . well, you won’t tell
anyone, will you?”

Karnage winked. “Won’t tell a soul.”

“Thanks.” The woman extended her hand. “I’m Reshmi.”

“John,” Karnage said. He shook her hand.

“How long have you been following The Worm?”

Karnage shrugged. “A while now. You?”

“Only a few months. But it’s really opened my eyes to how things work, you know?” She held up the book. “I used to be so confused
about things, but now . . .”

“It just all kinda falls into place, doesn’t it?”

Reshmi beamed. “Yes! Exactly!”

They were now at the front of the line. Reshmi knelt in front of the priest. The priest placed a hand on her head. “Are you ready to
awaken The Worm within, child?”

“I am, Presbyter.”

The priest nodded, and handed her the slip of paper. “Go with
Spragmos, child.”

Reshmi winked at Karnage. “See you later.”

Karnage gave her a nod and a smile. Reshmi disappeared inside.
The priest gave a disapproving gaze to the swell in Karnage’s crotch.
Karnage adjusted the material to hide the bulge of the goober
grenade on his belt.

“May The Worm be with you, Prez Bitter,” Karnage said.

“And also with you,” the priest said. He looked ready to say
something else, but Reshmi reappeared.

“Fancy seeing you again so soon,” Karnage said.

Reshmi smiled. “I was going to go check out the Finale.” She
gestured towards the WTF. “Would you like to join me?”

Karnage smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Great!” Reshmi did her best to look unexcited, failing miserably.
“I’ll just be waiting out here, then.”

The priest cleared his throat. Karnage took the hint and got on
his knees, careful to keep his goober rifle from poking out from the
top of his jacket. The priest placed his hand on Karnage’s head. “Are
you ready to awaken The Worm within, child?”

“I am, Prez Bitter.”

The priest handed Karnage a slip of paper. “Go with Spragmos,
child.”

Karnage stood and winked at Reshmi. “I’ll try not to be too long.”
Reshmi did her best not to beam, and Karnage did his best to ignore
the priest’s disapproving gaze as he slipped into the generator
building, and shut the door.

CHAPTER FOUR

Dried pinkstink and creeper hung from the doorway and ceiling.
Karnage pushed through, and found himself in the main generator
room. Pinkstink and creeper were stuck to everything. A table sat
in the middle of the room, lit with candles. An altar on the table
cradled a toolbox wrapped in vines of creeper. A cup of pencils sat in
front of the altar. The generators themselves were jampacked with
bits of crumpled paper. Karnage pulled out one of the papers and
uncrumpled it. A child-like scrawl had written, “Great Spragmos,
help me to awaken The Worm within.” He grabbed another one.
“Guide me to the True Path.” And another. “Show us The Light.”

You want light?
Karnage crumpled the papers into a ball.
I’ll show
you light.

He tore off his tuxedo jacket and whipped off his dress. He blew
out the candles and cleared the table with a sweep of his arm. He
jammed the table under the doorknob. Ripping open the toolbox, he
found some duct tape and coiled wire. He slapped a goober grenade
against the door frame and taped it in place. He looped the wire
around the doorknob and tied it to the grenade’s pin. He made sure
the wire was taut, then turned his attention to the generators.

Karnage plucked the paper from the turbines. He tried turning
the turbine on each generator. They were all seized except one. It
turned with much effort and loud groans of complaint.

There was a knock at the door. “Is everything all right in there,
child?”

“Everything’s fine, Prez Bitter.” Karnage worked the turbine
back and forth until it turned freely. “Just working out what I’m
gonna say.”

“Speak from the heart, child.”

“Will do, Prez Bitter!” Karnage grabbed the gas can from the
altar. It was still full. He poured it into the generator, hoping
these Spragmites knew the value of a good fuel stabilizer. Karnage
said a little prayer of his own—“You better work, you dirty
monkeyfucker”—and yanked the starter cord.

The engine gave a surprised gasp, belched out a plume of smoke,
and promptly died.

The doorknob turned and rattled. The priest called to Karnage
through the door. “What’s going on in there, child?”

“Just conferrin’ with Spragmos.” Karnage gave the starter cord
another yank. “Work, you sonofabitch!” Another gasp, another
belch, another plume of smoke, then once again, death.

The banging on the door grew more urgent and the priest’s
shouts grew louder. Karnage ignored them. He pulled again and
again on the cord. The engine grew louder and noisier each time.
The banging on the door shook the table, threatening to loosen it
from under the doorknob. Karnage gave one final yank on the cord,
and the generator roared to life.

The room quickly filled with generator exhaust. Something
wasn’t venting properly, but Karnage didn’t care. Light poured in
through the windows, piercing the smoke in thick prismatic shafts.

The table finally gave way, and the door burst open. A pair of
priests stood agape in the room. “What in the name of Spragmos—
AAH!” The goober grenade went off. Pink blossoms of goober
engulfed the shrieking priests and filled the doorway.

Karnage caught a glimpse of a shepherd’s hook outside the
window. It reared back and smashed the glass. Karnage unholstered
his goober rifle and fired, filling the frame with fast-hardening
goober.

“Warning. Sanity Level upgraded to Citrus Blast. Please—”

Karnage turned to the last remaining window and threw himself
through it. He landed in a circle of shattered glass and wood, his
Sanity Patch buzzing.

“Sanity Level upgraded to Peachy Keen. Please—”

Karnage levelled the goober gun at the window and fired. The
frame filled with goober, blocking the last entrance to the generators.

“Sanity Level upgraded to Tangy Orange. Please—”

“John!”

Karnage looked up. Reshmi was running towards him. “What’s
going—” Karnage levelled his rifle at Reshmi and fired. She flew
back with a cry and disappeared in an expanding ball of goober.
Karnage’s neck buzzed.

“Sanity Level upgraded to Sharp Cheddar. Please refrain from
violent behaviour.”

Karnage cursed himself. He was burning through his Sanity
Levels too quickly! He had to make each one of them count.
Keep the
Spragmites busy. Lead ’em away from the generators. Buy Stumpy time!

Karnage ran out from behind the building. The doors to the
WTF were open. Spragmites were pouring out. They caught sight
of Karnage, and charged towards him. Karnage turned in the other
direction. Spragmites poured out from behind and within other
buildings. It was as if the creeper was giving birth to a raging, angry
mob. They snarled, growled, roared.

Karnage roared back. He lobbed a triad of goober grenades in
a circle around him. Mountains of goober swelled up, hemming
him in, but keeping the Spragmites at bay. All the while, his Sanity
Patch rocketed up the Sanity Levels: Coral Essence, Frosty Pink,
Strawberry Shortcake—

He was done.

Karnage dropped the rifle and braced himself as the first of the
Spragmites swarmed over the peaks of goober and threw himself
at Karnage. Karnage sidestepped out of the way, only to catch a
second Spragmite in his arms. Karnage staggered back under the
weight, and tripped over a fallen Spragmite behind him. More
Spragmites piled on top of him as they continued to pour down over
the mountains of goober. Karnage quickly disappeared under the
pile as more and more cultists threw themselves on. The air was
forced from his lungs as the pile grew heavier. The last of his oxygen
burned out of his system. The world grew dark.
Get the job done,
Stumpy! Get the job done!

Karnage blacked out.

CHAPTER FIVE

Karnage woke in Camp Bailey’s stockade. Shafts of yellow light
poured in through the windows. He looked outside and saw
floodlights illuminating the streets and buildings. Far in the
distance, he could hear the angry muttering of the generator still
cranking out the juice. Karnage smiled.
It’s all up to you now, Stumpy.

“Good. I see you’re finally awake.”

Karnage turned around. There in the cell beside his was a woman
dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and fancy cocktail dress. Despite the
ludicrous contrast between the shirt and the dress, somehow she
made it work. Her brown eyes stayed fixed on the book in her lap.
She spoke without looking at him.

“There’s a D-pad in the wall just to your right that is watching our
every move. They keep the sound turned off in here, but I suggest
you show far less interest in me, lest they decide to move you and
ruin your only chance of escape.”

From the corner of his eye, Karnage saw the familiar shape of
a D-shaped lens hanging from the wall. He lay back in his bed and
looked out the window.

“You can take direction,” she said. “Good. I take it we have you to
thank for all this lovely electricity?”

“You might.”

She sighed, and flipped a page in her book. “My dear Captain,
you have, at most, an hour to live. If you want to have any chance
of leaving this complex alive, then I suggest you be as straight with
me as possible. You are the gentleman who fired up the generators,
yes?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I offer my congratulations to you, Captain. Melvern had
always intended to start up those generators himself. It’s a shame he
never figured out how to get them to work. He must be very angry
with you.”

“Who’s Melvern?”

She held up her book, revealing it to be another copy of
Awaken
The Worm Within
. She discretely pointed to the blue-haired man
on the cover. “He prefers to be referred to as the High Prophet. No
doubt you’ve seen his pudgy face floating around the compound.”

Loud squiggling screeches rattled the bars, followed by a woman’s
terrified scream in the distance. Karnage sat up in his bunk. “What
was that?”

She didn’t bother to look up. “That is the fate that awaits you
unless you listen to me very carefully.”

“Was that The Worm?”

“Yes.”

Karnage sprang to the window. “I’ve got to get near that thing!”

“I’m beginning to see why you are wearing the remains of a
straitjacket. Do you have a death wish, Captain? If not, then please
sit down. You are drawing attention to yourself again.”

Karnage sat down. “Why do you keep calling me ‘Captain’?”

“Why wouldn’t I call you ‘Captain?’ You’re ex-military, aren’t
you?”

Karnage scowled. “What the hell makes you think I’m exmilitary?”

The woman sighed. “There’s that poker face again. Let’s go over
the facts, shall we? You successfully infiltrated this camp without
detection. With very little effort, you were able to get the emergency
generators up and running. You are obviously very familiar with the
layout of this complex and the technology herein. Not to mention
the havoc you caused before being captured. Suffice to say, Captain,
you could not have announced your military credentials any louder
if you had ridden into this compound on a white horse wearing
full dress uniform while rattling your sabre. Does that satisfy your
curiosity?”

“I suppose it does.”

“Good. As you learn more about me, Captain, you will find that I
am quite clever. It is only through the most embarrassing series of
events that I have ended up in this prison. This is, however, quite
fortunate for you, as I am the only person in this compound who can
get you out of here alive.”

“And why is that?”

“Up until a few months ago, I was the High Priestess of the
Church of Spragmos. You, however, may call me Tristan.”

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“You’re a terrible liar. I don’t blame you, though. I wouldn’t be
pleased to make anyone’s acquaintance in here, either.”

“How are you going to help me escape?”

“I helped Melvern build this religion from the ground up. We
used to rule it side-by-side until he got it into his deluded little head
that I was planning to depose him and take control of it for myself.”

“Were you?”

“Of course. And I cannot tell you how put out I am that he
successfully outmanoeuvred me. If I believed in Fate, I would say she
had a hand in this. Fortunately, I do not. Melvern merely got lucky.
But now that you’re here, his luck is about to change.”

“Why? What’s so special about me?”

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