Friday, January 1, 2010

Part XLVIII

PART XLVIII

Its lair smelled like rotten meat and Lysol. It became obvious when I stepped inside. The floor was littered with rotting carcasses and the ceiling was covered with hanging car fresheners. I jumped when the first Hula Girl freshener smacked into my face. I mumbled under my breath and threw some werelight balls into the air. I almost slipped on the fresh viscera of a bear, but I tensed up when I felt the meat spread under my shoe.

All right you nasty bastard, I'm here to talk.

Nothing, not a sound beyond the squeak of rotten meat under my shoes.

I looked around and found its bed. Something stirred.

WAKE UP!

There was groan and the bear hides shifted, then it sat up.

Dude, I’m so not appreciating your manners.

He'd been eating too many skiers.

Dude, I don't give a rat's ass. Now shake your nasty bits off and do whatever it is you need to wake up, or I'm going to start blowing very small bits off you.

I waved my hand, and the balls of light surrounded him like lightening bugs. He tried to swat them away, but they had a little autonomy of their own and easily stayed out of reach.

He finally removed the animal skins and stood up, it was like he'd fluffed the sheets and the stink of rot hit my nose so hard my eyes started to water and the mucus in my head began to clear.

I coughed and shot him in the leg.

What the fuck, dude, I did what you said.

You'll heal, and I needed to make sure I had your attention.

You're the one looking for your Uncle's bits.

I shot him in the other leg, and he sat down.

Dammit. That smarts.

Focus on me and it won't hurt so much. There's a reliquary here in Utah, and I need help getting too it.

You're not making a positive advance on having me assist you.

You're not dead, nor are the rest of your siblings living in the mountain. I can change my mind though.

So what makes you think I can help, and by the way, what was your reasoning with choosing me?

I found you first, and I need safe passage through the Wasatch gauntlet.

The gauntlet is dead. Hardly anything there any more. They wiped us all out, and you know that.

It's not you I'm worried about. I hear there are still traps, things that separate a man from his useful bits, as well as a well-guarded crypt. I have no desire to desecrate sacred ground. Or in your case unconsecrated ground. I need a guide into the tunnels.

What do I get out of it other then you not shooting me again?

A warm fuzzy feeling inside.

Not fair.

I'm sure the last snowboarder you ate felt the same way.

He had a broken leg. I had to put him down.

A small short chortle echoed through the chamber.

Look, I don't know my way through the tunnels, but I know someone who does.

I leveled the gun at his head.

Seriously, I do. I'll take you to her.

I lowered the gun and he shambled up, the wounds in his legs already starting to heal.

Put some pants on.

I haven't worn pants in fifty years.

Fine, but stay in front of me. Your junk looks like a cow's utter gone sour. Don't make any quick move or I'll shoot you in the ass.

Fine.

He grabbed a weird bandoleer he'd made out of ten or twelve head lamps. Most were fairly modern LED types, and I wasn't even going to ask where he got batteries. He threw it over his shoulder and the lights spun face front and lit the way as he moved into a shadowed corner revealing a tunnel opening. I let my lights trail between us, even though the sight of his spiny back gave me the chills.

As we progressed deeper into the cave, the air actually cleared a bit as cold currents of fresh mountain air worked their way down through, pushing the stink behind us. I was down wind, which wasn't great, but it was better.

He didn't talk much while we ambled through, though unlike me he had to stoop on a number of occasions as the ceiling went up and down. I'd thought I'd have been sweating in the get-up, but the cave got colder as we descended, and I started to have to walk more carefully as the moisture made the ground slick with ice. There was also an uncomfortable amount of thick organic webbing. I rattled my brain to try and figure out what the demon we were going to see, and finally asked grandfather Lee if he had any idea. He'd kept quiet the entire time I had been negotiating, but once I asked him, he began to chatter again, and on this one occasion I found it more comforting than I ever would have thought possible.

We walked for about an hour before he stopped. I was carrying on a conversation with Grandfather lee and almost ran into his ass.

What's up?

Quiet.

I stopped and listened. Slowly, I began to hear something that reminded me of the Discovery channel special on ants, and the nasty ones in South Africa that can eat a whole cow. The noise was low, like a thousand tiny feet skittering in unison. In unison, toward us.

Ah shit, she just had a brood.