The Takers: Book One of the Oz Chronicles (12 page)

***

Thankfully the Taker had fallen on its back. Its extended belly was easily accessible.

"This one is bigger than the other two," Lou said.

"You don't have to tell me," I said kneeling down beside it. I placed the scalpel on the monster's stomach and hesitated. "You might want to look the other way," I warned. Lou didn't respond. She stared tight-lipped at the monster. She was determined to watch me cut it open. I silently counted to three and then lightly moved the blade across the Taker's stomach. Blood oozed along the expanding slit. A rush of hot steamy air rose out of the opening that carried with it the foul odor of spoiled milk. When I had made about a two-foot cut, I put the scalpel down. I rubbed my hands together, said a quick prayer and then pulled back the thick leathery skin. A layer of fat obstructed my view so I cut it away. Once I sliced past the fat, I stared at the insides of the creature in amazement. There was nothing there, no Stevie, no stomach, no bones, nothing. It was literally a black hole.

"What do you make of that?" Lou said sounding a little relieved not to find the partially digested body of Stevie Spangler inside.

"I don't know." I stuck my hand inside. I slowly pushed it past the fat and into the black hole. I was in it up to my wrist and then my elbow and then my shoulder.

"Gross," Lou finally said.

I pulled my arm out, and except for a little bit of slime from the layers of fat, it was clean. "There's nothing there I said."

"Isn't that a good thing?" she asked.

"Where'd Stevie go?"

***

We were in Dalton, Georgia when it started to rain again. The closest shelter we could find was a carpet outlet warehouse. The loading dock was open and I was able to drive the wagon up the ramp and inside the enormous building. Gigantic rolls of carpet stacked ten feet high were placed throughout the entire building. Dozens of carpet manufacturers' signs hung from the ceiling. It was a carpet lover's paradise.

We all found a spot and attempted to relax. The morning at the hospital left us all a little worse for the wear. We were battle fatigued. Kimball was doing better, but he was still a little woozy. Ajax tried to coax him into a rough-and-tumble play session, but Kimball snapped at him and lay down on a stack of throw rugs.

I sat propped up against a roll of green carpet and flipped through Dr. Fine's book. My conversation with Ajax the day before kept replaying in my head. He had said something about "Gorilla's always know," and "Old future." And there was something nonsensical he said about "Sentence tell." I flipped through the pages of the book and stopped when I saw a series of photos of Ajax's artwork. Most of it was just handprints and paint splatters, but some of it could pass for real art, I suppose. A lot of it looked pretty dreary. He painted a few that looked like flames. But there was one in particular that drew my attention, hidden in globs of black and gray paint, I could almost detect glowing red eyes peering out. I was stunned when I read the caption, "Ajax calls this one 'Old Future,' though no one on the staff can ascertain what he means." I flipped the page. There was a picture of Dr. Fine sitting on the floor with Ajax. He looks to be making the sign for sentence. The caption read, "Ajax worries about the storytellers again." Storytellers! I felt as if I would explode with anticipation. Ajax wasn't signing, "Sentence tell." He was signing "Storyteller." More specifically he was saying, "Baby Storyteller."

On the next page of the book, there was a brief explanation of Ajax's obsession with the storytellers. Dr. Fine wrote:

"To those disbelievers who think gorillas aren't capable of cognitive thought, that they lack imagination or the ability to invent fantasy for the sake of entertainment, I direct you to Ajax's Storytellers. On most nights, Ajax will regale visitors with fantastic stories of the end of the world. He tells vivid tales of grotesque creatures from what he calls 'Imagined Lands,' that seek out eight storytellers that will give them 'Permanent Blood.' He speaks of warrior heroes that sacrifice their lives to protect the storytellers. It is a classic tale of good versus evil that only lacks an ending."

I read the passage several times. Is it possible that a gorilla knew that the end of the world was coming? That he knew about the Takers and their origins? "Possible," I thought. I had just seen a man swallowed by a creature that did not exist in the known world, and I was asking if something was possible. It was obvious that anything was possible. It was apparent that what he meant by "All gorillas know," and "Old future," was that what was happening to the world right now with the Takers and the Storytellers is old gorilla folklore. That it is a precognitive story of the world shared by all gorillas. "Old future." They've always known this would happen.

I called out to Ajax. He knuckle-walked his way over to me and sat down. "Tell me about the old future," I said.

He signed, "Old future now."

"Who are the storytellers?"

"Eight," he signed.

I told him Stevie Spangler had said there were seven.

"Seven now," he signed.

Seven now? I thought about his answer. The comic book. Stevie Dayton was one of the Storytellers, but now he was dead. Eight had become seven. I asked Ajax if this is what happened.

He nodded and signed, "seven now," again.

"Where are the other Storytellers?"

He signed, "All world," and "baby Storyteller."

"Baby Storyteller?" I looked at Lou who was feeding Nate. I turned back to Ajax. "Our baby is a Storyteller?"

He grinned and nodded. "Protect baby," he signed.

I remembered Stevie Spangler yelling "Save the Sto-weetellas," as he was backing away from the Taker. It was all too big a responsibility for me to bear. I was just a kid. We were all just kids. How could we be expected to protect Nate from the Takers? We were outmatched in every way.

He pointed to me and made the signs for "war" and "man".

"War man?" I asked.

He repeated the sign, and pointed to Lou and then Kimball. "War man."

I flipped through the book to see if I could find a reference for this. I did. It was a phrase he used frequently. To Ajax "War man," meant "warrior."

He continued. "War man find keep. Protect baby."

I tried to tell him I wasn't a warrior, but he responded that I had always been a warrior. "I'm just a dumb kid," I said. "I've never been in a fight in my life."

He huffed and repeated, "War man find keep." He was getting frustrated with me.

"What's a keep," I asked.

"Keep," he signed emphatically. "Keep protect Storytellers. Keep help remove take. Keep good."

He was getting more and more frustrated with me and as a result his signing was getting sloppy and his phrasing was off. I tried to calm him by assuring him that I understood, but he knew I was lying. He let out a pained groan and lurched away. All the while I'm sure he was thinking to himself that I was possibly the dumbest human he had ever encountered.

I leaned back against the roll of carpet and closed my eyes. I was angry. Not at Ajax, but at the situation. I didn't want to be a warrior. I wanted to be a kid. I wanted to go to Titans games. I wanted to spend my time coming up with creative excuses for not raking the yard.

Nate started to get restless and cried out. Lou quickly tended to him. He's not my responsibility I told myself. I don't care what Mrs. Chalmers said. If the Takers wanted him, they could have him. I wasn't going to risk my life for something that does nothing more than poop, sleep, and vomit. I had had it.

I opened my eyes to find Lou standing over me with Nate. "What?" I said unintentionally sharp.

"I have to…" she hesitated.

"You have to what?"

"I have to… You know?" She was shifting from one leg to the other.

"No, I don't know," I said, not really in the mood to play a guessing game.

"Go to the bathroom," she whispered.

"Oh," I said trying not to smile. "So."

"So, can you watch Nate?"

I looked at the wriggling little baby in her arms. "Get Tyrone and Valerie to do it."

She turned and watched the two little kids chasing each other around the warehouse. They looked as if they were playing tag. "They're not old enough to watch a baby."

"I'm busy," I said.

"Doing what?"

"None of your business."

She bent down and put Nate on my lap. "You're watching him," she said. "And that's that." She stood and sped away before I could protest.

"Hey," I shouted. But she never looked back. I looked down at Nate. His eyes were open wider now than when I first saw him on the floor of the attic in his house. He seemed to be more aware. I looked at his belly and the little brown crusty knob had disappeared. He had a normal pink belly button. His tiny hand reached out for me and grabbed my Titans sweatshirt. "You like the Titans?" I asked, not expecting an answer. "Of course you do, we're from the same neighborhood." I looked at his ears. "You know, your ears do look kind of funny, but I wouldn't let that get you down, kid." I looked around to see if anybody could hear me talking to the baby. I didn't want to look foolish. I was in the clear so I continued my conversation. "I don't think it's fair, Nate. I'm only 13. I can't protect you. Have you seen those things that are after you? They're huge and ugly and… hungry. What's a kid like me supposed to do against something like that?" Nate looked up at me and smiled. "Hey, that's the first time I've seen you smile." I reached in my back pocket and pulled out the picture of Nate with his parents. I looked at it and then showed it to the baby. "I wonder if they knew what you were." I laughed. "Listen to me, I'm starting to buy into this whole nonsense." I looked at the picture again. "They sure did love you, kid."

Lou suddenly appeared in front of me. "I'll take him back."

"Hmm? Oh, okay," I said. I lifted the baby up to her and she took him. She bounced him up and down as she walked away. I stared at the picture of the Chalmers. "We all have our cross to bear," I said to myself. "I guess it's time to bear mine."

***

That night we ate well. I pulled out the propane grill, a pot, and some instant Ramen noodles. Not a gourmet meal by any stretch of the imagination, but it was our first hot meal since the corn-on-the-cob. Kimball enjoyed a double helping of dog food and Ajax feasted on a bucket of fruits and vegetables.

The conversation never veered toward the horror we witnessed at the hospital. We talked about our lives before the end of the world. Tyrone had eight brothers and sisters. He was the youngest. Valerie was an only child being raised by a single mother. Lou was home schooled. We all had different backgrounds and now we were all headed for the same future.

We relaxed by playing a game of hide and seek. I wasn't too keen on the idea at first, but I agreed hoping to give Tyrone and Valerie a sense of normalcy. I have to admit I had a pretty good time. Even Ajax got in on the game, although there weren't many places for a 400-pound gorilla to hide.

By nine o'clock that night, I encouraged everyone to get some sleep because we had something important to do the next day. I didn't tell them what, because I wanted them all to get a good night's rest. They protested at first, but eventually they gave in and settled down for the night.

I laid in my sleeping bag next to the wagon. Lou and Nate were close by. The baby was being unusually quiet. As I lay there staring at the ceiling of the warehouse, I asked Lou, "I wonder why he liked me?"

"Who?"

"Stevie Dayton. I mean I was a real jerk to him."

"Maybe he saw the magic in you," she said.

I turned to her. "You better get some sleep. We've got a big day tomorrow."

"You might as well tell me what you've got planned. I'm going to know soon enough anyway."

I smiled and closed my eyes. "You'll see." I didn't know how to tell her tomorrow was the day we would read the comic book.

I woke up the next morning trying to convince myself I was a warrior, but it never really sunk in. Warriors were big muscled grown men who could defeat entire armies with nothing more than their fists. I was a puny kid who had trouble making a fist let alone defeating an army with one.

I woke everybody up and treated them all to a hearty breakfast of honey and chunky peanut butter sandwiches. Ajax ate three and got peanut butter all over his face.

After they were well fed, I sat them in a circle and began my speech. "I know this is kind of sudden, but we have to do something that's not going to be too pleasant today. If you don't want to do it, I'll understand."

"We're going to do it, aren't we?" Lou said with excitement in her voice.

"Do what?" Tyrone asked.

"It's time," I said. "We're going to war today."

"War?" Valerie said apprehensively.

"We're going to read the comic book." Lou stood and started for the wagon.

"Hold on," I said. "We've got to get prepared first."

"What comic book?" Tyrone asked.

"The one that brings the Greasywhoppers," Lou said.

Tyrone and Valerie looked at each other. They were certain we had lost our minds.

"Why would we want to do that?" Valerie asked.

"We don't want to," I said. "We have to." I looked at Ajax. "We're warriors." He stood and pounded his chest. Valerie and Tyrone were unsure. I could imagine they were now sorry they had left the bicycle bandits to join us. "You don't have to be part of this," I said.

"What choice to do we have?" Tyrone asked.

"I'll hitch the horses to the wagon," I said. "You can take off."

"We'll stay," Valerie said.

"We will?" Tyrone didn't look too thrilled.

"We're warriors," she said putting her arm around him.

He looked at me and said, "Better than being a bandit, I guess."

Our first order of business was to load up on weapons of some kind. We had plenty of fireworks and J.J., but beyond that we weren't prepared for a battle. I exited the front of the warehouse and scanned the street to see if there was a store that might have what we needed. To the left, beyond the interstate overpass, was a series of shopping centers. I called for Tyrone to bring Ryder around, and I mounted the gentle old mare.