CHAPTER NINETEEN
Abe had to blink rapidly to keep his eyes from falling shut for hours. After Vastor had come out of his unconscious state, Abe had forced Vastor to lead the way. It had not been an easy job holding the pistol on the Slig while he tried to follow the map toward the Gabbit settlement, but Abe had learned a lot of lessons about being tough out in the wilderness, and he had managed to keep going until it was fully dark.
Once it was dark, things got worse. While Vastor got to lay on the ground, Abe had to sit up all night, watching the Slig gaining more rest, more energy that could be used against him, while Abe grew more and more tired. It was thoroughly infuriating, sitting on the cold, cold ground with the Snuzi pistol in hand, hearing Vastor snore loudly.
Now it was morning again. Now they stumbled along in the wastelands, the grass underfoot swiftly turning to dirt and rock.
Abe felt his head nod toward his chest…but he yanked it back up again. He had to keep a sharp eye on Vastor; the Slig had proved to be a problem before and would probably continue to be one, so he had to keep his eyes open. If he could find the Gabbits, and if Munch was among them – or even one of his descendants – Abe could probably get some sleep while the townspeople put Vastor in some sort of prison.
He glanced briefly down at the map. If he had followed the brown piece of paper’s instructions properly, they were within five miles of the settlement. They had covered nearly twenty miles yesterday, so they ought to be within sight of this Gabbit town within minutes…unless it was hidden.
Abe frowned. If he knew Gabbits well – which he didn’t – they would probably have their settlement well-hidden, so the Glukkons wouldn’t find and destroy them before they had a chance to grow populous again. Maybe it would take more than a few minutes to come on the Gabbit village, if it was still there.
Out of boredom, he said, “Why do you love killing peaceful people, Slig?”
Vastor laughed once. “Probably because they don’t fight back.”
Abe gritted his teeth. “Is there no honor in this world anymore? You kill people just for the purpose of getting rid of them?”
“Why do we need honor?” the Slig chuckled. “No one’s going to pay us back for it!”
Abe clicked back the cock of his gun threateningly. “Of course you’re going to be paid back for everything you’ve done. Why do you think the Glukkons have been blown up in their factories with every bit of moolah they’ve been able to get on Oddworld? Because there is retribution.”
Vastor threw up his hands. “Oh, no!” he mocked. “Now you’ve got me really scared!”
Abe twitched his finger and fired one bullet from the gun. It burrowed into the ground directly in front of where the Slig was about to take a step. With sudden surprise at the hole’s appearance, Vastor staggered, flailed twice for balance, and then toppled sideways.
Abe clicked the cock on the gun, grinding his teeth together as he stood over the Slig. “You should be scared,” he growled. “One day, when you die – if I kill you or someone else does – then you’ll find out just how wrong you were to mess with us. The only way to avoid it is repentance, Slig. Doing good, and not evil.”
Vastor said nothing for several long moments; he simply sat there, staring up at Abe.
The Mudokon jerked the gun in the direction of the Mudokon pistol. “Get up, Slig. It’s time to go.”
Vastor still said nothing; the Slig merely complied, pushing himself back up to his feet and moving northeast. Abe, feeling much more energetic now that his blood was boiling with rage, urged him onward with a sharp prod of the Snuzi pistol.
As they traveled, Abe’s anger did not dissipate. He kept up his rage as means of energy, keeping himself infuriated so he could keep his mind on his task. How could the Slig be so arrogant as to ignore the Hand of Odd, to refuse to see the way of the Oddiverse?
He kept walking, keeping his eyes focused for anything interesting.
It wasn’t long before he saw it. And when he did, his eyes widened.
“Oh, no,” Abe groaned. “Oh, no. No…”
He fell to his knees, Snuzi pistol falling to his side.
“It can’t be,” he whispered.
Vastor folded his arms across his chest, standing grumpily to one side. “So what’s bothering you?” the Slig grunted.
Abe pointed with the gun. “Smoke…”
There was a small crater in the ground nearby – a perfect place to build a village, surrounded by thick walls. But rising from that crater was thick, black smoke…and Abe could tell it wasn’t just the kind from an eruption. It was something burning.
Something like wood.
Something like a Gabbit village.
Abe suddenly stood up and pointed with his gun. “Get moving!” he snapped. “Get over there – we’re going to check this out.”
Vastor just smirked, and complied.
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