[Lord Stanley]

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Back in the crate. Once more at the mercy of their Vamp captors. Abe sat with his feet against the floor, his forehead resting on his knees and rattling on them with every bump.

He ignored the pain; he was thinking.

How had no one known about the Vamps’ expansions into this region for so long? What would happen to the others while they were prisoners? Would the Keuja continue to strike at their civilizations unchecked? Would the Vamps continue to spread, striking at the Mudokons and Glukkons with the element of surprise on their side?

“We have to get out of here,” Cloud said from across the crate, quite unnecessarily. “Any ideas? Seen any weaknesses in the Vamps’ designs?”

“Haven’t seen ’em long enough to judge that,” Oner said. “Now be quiet. I’m going to get some rest.”

“Those weapons the Vamps were carrying,” Crak said thoughtfully. “I think I’ve seen ’em somewhere afore…”

Cloud asked, “Really? Where?”

The old country Slig sighed, and produced a sound that was probably a shrug. “Dunno. I’ve lived so many years here on Oddworld, and been so many places in my younger days, it could be any number of strange places.”

“That’s not very helpful,” Abe growled.

“Well sorry, Mr. Grouch,” the old Slig snapped back. “I don’t see you coming up with any bright ideas, either.”

Abe banged a fist on the floor of their huge metal crate. “I’m working on it.”

“Then think faster,” Oner drawled, in an infuriatingly lazy tone. “Your arguing is disturbing my nap…”

Abe reached out one foot and roughly kicked the SKRUT in the back. “Shut up. I’m thinking.”

The SKRUT snarled loudly and jumped to his feet. “Don’t kick me!”

Abe grabbed at the wall of their transport crate and pulled himself to his full height. “Or what?”

“Or you’ll see why they made me a SKRUT,” Oner hissed.

All of Abe’s frustration spilled out in one yell. “Loser!”

Oner roared, “That does it!”

Abe laughed, and spat on his fists. “Bring it on, slimeback.”

Their ride came to a sudden halt, and the crate jerked to a stop, throwing Abe and Oner back down to the hard metal floor. Abe snarled at the sudden pain, and jumped back up to his feet, ignoring his new bruises, still ready to throw a punch—

“Stop fighting!” Cloud shouted, and Abe paused. “We’re all prisoners together—the real foes out here are the Keuja and the Vamps, not each other!”

Abe and Oner faced each other in the dark, each with fists raised. Oner had one foot drawn back, as if to kick, but he did not make a move yet.

“The boy’s right,” Crak agreed. “Fighting amongst ourselves won’t help.”

Abe lowered his fist, breathing heavily. Then, without a word, he sat back down on the floor of their metal cell and turned to face the wall.

He hated being wrong.

“Wisdom from the mouths of outsiders,” Oner snorted, and did likewise.

Abe said nothing, even as the back of the crate opened, and the Vamps shouted for them to exit their cell. He simply obeyed the command without pause, and dropped out onto the cobblestone street of the Vamp town.

* * *