Strange Creatures of Dr. Korbo

M
OODY
P
RESS
CHICAGO

 

 

© 2000 by
G
ILBERT
M
ORRIS

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

ISBN: 0-8024-3669-2

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2
Printed in the United States of America

  1. A Strange New Friend

  2. A Jonah on Board

  3. Where Is Goél?

  4. The Stranger in the Forest

  5. The Evil Dr. Korbo

  6. Eight Little Problems

  7. A New Leader

  8. Goat Rustlers

  9. Danger at the River

10. Surprise Attack

11. The Unicorns

12. Josh's Plan

13. The Village

14. The Battle for the Castle

15. The Magician

16. The Election

 

 

T
he rain poured down like a waterfall. It had drenched the small party that emerged from the jungle so that there was not a dry thread on any of them. Overhead the sky was leaden gray, and it looked as if the sun had hidden itself permanently.

The two girls struggled along side by side. The mud was sticky and thick, and each time they took a step it made a hollow, sucking noise.

Sarah Collingwood, at fifteen, was the older of the two by one year. Her glossy black hair was now soaked and hung down her back in strings. Her jaw was set; she was absolutely exhausted. Looking over at her companion, she said, “Pretty bad, isn't it?”

Abbey Roberts had hair as blonde as her friend's was black. She also had much more pride and usually took much more time with her appearance. Now as she looked down at her muddy feet and worn, stained clothing, she gritted her teeth. “Sarah, I'm going to just die if we don't get out of this pretty soon!”

Knowing that her friend was always given to overstatement, Sarah found herself able to grin. She reached over and gave Abbey a pat on the back. “You'll feel better when we get into some dry clothes.”

Abbey jerked her shoulder away from Sarah's touch. She was ordinarily a rather sweet-tempered girl, but days of hardship on a mission that had failed had discouraged her.

Sarah knew that. The last mission of the Seven Sleepers had been a failure indeed.

Sighing, she looked at the line of teenagers strung out ahead of them along the muddy trail. Her eyes went first to Josh Adams, the leader. Josh was fifteen, tall and awkward. He was also shy and unsure of himself. It had come as a great shock to him when Goél, who was heading a worldwide fight against a sinister figure known as the Dark Lord, had chosen him to be the leader of the Seven Sleepers.

A nuclear war had destroyed Oldworld. But kept safe in sleep capsules, the teenagers known as the Seven Sleepers had escaped the devastation and had awakened years later. Now as Sarah trudged along, she had a sudden longing to be back in Oldworld and have things as they were.

She wanted to go up and walk beside Josh, but she saw that he was busily talking with Reb Jackson. The thing that stood out about Reb was the large cowboy hat perched on top of his blond hair. Water poured off its brim in a miniature waterfall, but he walked straight and tall as he always did.

Gregory Randolph Washington Jones was slogging along behind Reb. Nobody ever called him anything but Wash. He glanced up from time to time at Reb, his best friend. Sarah thought Wash looked as miserable as everybody else.

The other two members of the group were Dave Cooper and Jake Garfield. Sarah's gaze went to them next. At sixteen, Dave was the oldest Sleeper. He was also the most athletic and the best looking. He made quite a contrast to Jake, who was short, had red hair, and right now seemed to be eagerly talking in spite of his misery.

Reb Jackson tilted his head forward and let the water run off his hat brim. “It sure does look like Niagara Falls, doesn't it?”

“Niagara Falls is gone, Reb,” Josh Adams said gloomily.

Josh was ordinarily not so short-spoken, but Reb knew the total failure of their last mission was weighing heavily upon him. Josh was sensitive and had little self-confidence as it was. Now, ever since they had failed to defeat the enemy and had to flee in disgrace, Josh had said little to anyone. Why had Goél let this happen?

Reb let more water run off his hat brim. “What's the matter with you, Josh?” He spoke with a Southern drawl that probably existed nowhere else in Nuworld. “You look like an accident going somewhere to happen.”

“The accident did happen, Reb.”

“Oh, we took a licking this time, but you can't let that get to you. Goél knows. He's got something in mind.”

“Yes, I
can
let it get to me!” Josh said crossly. He clamped his lips together and tried to outwalk the Southerner, but Reb's legs were much longer, and he kept up with him.

“Look here, buddy,” Reb said. “You know the old saying, ‘Never was a horse couldn't be rode.' And the other part of it is, ‘Never was a cowboy couldn't be throwed.'” He laughed aloud and shook his head. “I done proved that many a time, Josh. We got ‘throwed' this time, but there's always another day.”

But Josh did not smile as he usually did at Reb's words. He plodded on, keeping his head down, and a doleful expression settled over his face. He muttered, “I just can't do it anymore, Reb.”

“Can't do what?”

“Can't be a leader of the Sleepers anymore.”

Reb Jackson stared at him with surprise. “Well, ain't you a caution now!” he exclaimed. He reached out and poked Josh's arm with his fist. “Like I keep saying, you can't win 'em all. You've got to expect some failures along the road. But that doesn't mean you quit.”

Josh just shook his head. He plodded on for some time before mumbling, “I can't be the leader anymore. I'm just not fit for the job.”

Reb was disturbed by Josh's words. He himself had never given up on anything. “You think Goél made a mistake? Not a chance.”

Josh didn't talk anymore, and finally Reb dropped back and fell into step with Wash. “I'm getting worried about Josh,” he said.

“I'm worried about all of us,” Wash grunted. His legs were much shorter than the tall Southerner's, so he had to walk faster. “You reckon we're ever gonna get out of this rain?”

“Sometime. But what worries me is that Josh has given up. He just wants to lie down and quit.”

“Well, who doesn't!”

Reb grinned in spite of his misery. He pulled Wash's dripping hat down over his face. “Come on,” he said. “We can't quit now. Too many miles to go.”

 

The weary travelers stumbled on for what seemed hours. The rain poured down only intermittently now, and it was in one of those brief times of respite that Sarah called out, “Look, everybody. Isn't that a house over there?”

Jake Garfield wiped the raindrops from his face.

“Let's go see who lives there, if anybody does. Maybe they'll take us in for a while.”

“I don't know,” Dave said. “It doesn't look like much of a house to me.”

“Anything would be better than this. At least we'll have some shelter for a while. Come on.”

They sloshed toward the shack, their boots making squishy noises in the soggy ground. They had not gone far before Sarah could see that the little house was made of saplings. They had been stuck into the ground in a circle and tied together with vines. The thatched roof seemed to be made of saplings also. A chimney at the side emitted little gusts of black smoke. Obviously, someone lived here.

Reb was walking up front with Josh again. He called out, “Hello, the house! Anybody home?”

Drops of rain began to fall again, but they were all so wet it could not possibly matter. Then the door—a piece of animal hide strung over the opening—was drawn back, and one of the strangest figures Sarah had ever seen stepped outside. At first she could not make out the face, because the man had on a floppy black hat pulled down over his ears. He was very tall and very skinny. He wore colorless pants and a coat held together in front by what seemed to be pieces of sharp thorn in place of buttons.

“Hello, strangers!” The owner pushed back the hat, and Sarah could see that he was a young man. His stringy hair was brown. He had large eyes that seemed to be gray green, set in a thin face. He had a long, sharp, pointed chin and sunken cheeks. Everything about the man seemed to be long—arms, legs, fingers, nose, everything.

“Reckon there's gonna be a storm that'll blow us all away, don't you think?” he said by way of greeting.

“We've come a long way,” Josh began. “We're very tired and—”

“And hungry,” Reb put in. “Reckon you have room in your house to take us in for the night, sir?”

The man reached his long fingers upward, pulled his hat off, and clawed at his uncombed hair. “Well, I'm expecting the house to blow away if this storm gets any worse,” he said mournfully, “but you might as well blow away from here as anywhere else. Come on in.”

“Strange looking fellow, isn't he?” Dave muttered to Sarah. “He's nothing but skin and bones.”

“If we can get out of this rain, I don't care what he looks like,” she said. Sarah had reached that stage of fatigue where she could hardly talk, so she thankfully followed the strange young man inside.

By way of furniture, the “inside” had two chairs and a wooden table with an oil lamp hanging above it. To one side was a stone fireplace. In it hung a cooking pot, and from it a cheerful fire threw its yellow gleams over the small room. The ceiling went up to a point and somehow managed to give the little house a rather spacious look.

Going over to the fireplace, their host said, “You all look pretty worn out. I guess some stew would go down pretty good. Just made a big potful.”