Cheers Searge, it was great.
Anyway, as so many people are yelling at me for killing Bill, lets say (for anyone that cares) that the Old Mudokon appeared in the night, healed Bill as best he could and carted him away into his hideaway.
And for those who don't care, or do and just want to find out what happens next, i give you... Part 3, Chapter 6
Chapter 6, Industrial Claws
From what Graham gathered, it was 2 days walk to the nearest factory. But with the sligs stopping every other hour, it was going to take at least 3.
The sligs didn’t seem as edgy or cautious as they were when they first found him. The Orb kept swapping hands. Whoever carried it was shoved to the centre of the huddle, often kept under a closer guard than Graham. They kept taking it out, gazing at it, just holding it, occasionally shoving it tauntingly into Graham’s face while shoving a gun into his back.
They had pulled several flasks of brown liquid, passing them around, taking deep gulps, smacking anyone who spilled any. They stumbled noisily, drunkenly through the forest, firing the odd shot into the trees. Graham wasn’t sure whether they were trying to hit anything or just trying to scare away anything thinking of attacking them. Whatever they were trying, it wasn’t working. Several times they were attacked by scrabs or paramites. They seemed unable to go an hour without coming within a foot of painful death leaving Graham pumped full of adrenaline and the sligs jeering the pathetic attempts of the forest to finish them off.
Whenever they stopped and sat down they’d bring out the Orb and gaze at it, passing it around from one to the other, leaving Graham almost unguarded. They didn’t even think to tie him up. But he couldn’t leave the Orb, and soon they were barging through the forest again, laughing, drinking and basically drawing the attention of every living creature within 20 miles.
It was when they were walking next to him carrying the Orb that Graham began to understand his guard. Bezin always seemed to be looking for an opportunity to get away with the Orb for himself. He certainly drank less than the others, and was more alert. Menick was also thinking mainly of himself. Muttering about what he was going to do with his reward money. He drank loads and beat Graham around the head every few minutes, while constantly muttering about what was going on around him: "Bezin’s an easy target," "Herra’s got his gun by his side." If he hadn’t been constantly wasted he’d have been the most dangerous of the 4.
Herra seemed slightly more on edge. He was still in high spirits but was certainly more worried about the dangers of the forest than the others. His concentration didn’t seem to span any further than getting back to the factory (Uncle Eddy’s Eyestitch Emporium). He was generally to one to hit the animals that attacked them and was constantly warning the others of various dangers, most of which were ignored. Sometimes he’d lower his voice and whisper to one of the others so Graham couldn’t here him. He’d usually get shrugged off and told, "We’re to far North for that."
Tror was the most exited. He seemed to hate the others and the others certainly hated him. Even so, he was definitely the most loyal. The thought of nicking the Orb never once occurred to him. He rarely held the Orb or guarded Graham. He mostly jumped about at the front of the line, driving Menick to death and firing random strings of bullets into the trees and sky.
After 2 and a half days of this, Graham had decided that if he couldn’t grab the Orb by tonight he was just going to leave it. He couldn’t do the impossible and getting made a prisoner while the Orb was sent off to another factory in another far off land wasn’t going to help anybody.
The sligs stopped then, threw their packs down, pulled out the Orb and huddled round it, Tror and Menick pointing guns at him one handed, without looking at him. Graham decided now or never and began to sidle slowly, quietly towards them, hoping that rustle in the bushes was wind and not another scrab. Then again, a scrab might panic them into dropping the Orb. And in the highly unlikely event that he wasn’t eaten, he might be able to grab it.
"Hey, Mud, what the Hell dya think you’re doin?" Graham was thrown backwards heavily as Menick yelled out. Three of them clustered around him. "What, you tryin to steal your little ball back? Ha! We won’t let anyone take it away from us, will we guys?" He gestured Herra and Tror standing around him.
"There’s someone taking it right now." Graham said quietly. The three sligs spun round quickly. Standing at the other side of the clearing was Bezin, his hands clasped round the Orb, looking at them, terrified. For at least 5 seconds there was total silence. Then Bezin leapt round and dived for the trees. Menick roared and leapt after him. Tror and Herra both raised guns to shoot.
There was a rustle form the trees, a whistle of disturbed air, a dull thud and Bezin suddenly froze, as did the other three. Herra slowly lowered his gun below his face and Graham could easily imagine the look of fear on his face.
A flint spearhead was sticking out of Bezin’s back. Blood was running from the wound, down his legs, staining the ground. Slowly he stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. A short wooden spear shaft ran into his chest, blood flowing out into the open air. His eyes were empty with death. The Orb was still clasped to his chest. For a few seconds Graham’s guard was silent. Then Menick roared and began firing wildly into the trees. Herra leapt onto the body of Bezin and began to pry at the fingers still clutching the Orb. Tror turned to run but he had barely gone 5 paces when he to, froze in his tracks, the feathers and last inch of an arrow sticking into the back of his neck. Blood was already gushing from the wound. Menick roared again and began firing madly at a different point in the clearing. With a sudden yell he threw down his gun and clutched his right wrist where another arrow had dug right though his flesh and bone to burst out on the other side. He opened his mouth to yell aloud but had hardly made a whisper when a third arrow burst out of the trees, straight through his open teeth and slipped out the back of his head. Blood began flowing from his mouth as he keeled over onto the ground and began gasping and groaning through a mouth of blood. Herra took one look at him and turned to run from the clearing. Before he reached the trees a large blunt object came flying at him, striking him in the head and crushing in the front of his skull. The Orb fell from his hands and Graham scrambled towards it.
He froze as three figures stepped from the trees. There was 2 seconds silence finally broken by, "Graham?"
Graham leapt to his feet. "Barry?" The other mudokon nodded and Graham ran forward and embraced him. "Barry, How… When…"
"What are you doing here Graham?"
"Oh that’s nice. We don’t see each other for 18 years and all you can say is "What are you doing here?"." He stared into his friends puzzled face and then laughed. "What do ya think I’m doin here?" He reached down and picked up the Orb from the bloody grass.
"Ah, of course… Master finally found someone to get it out?"
"Well obviously."
Barry grinned. "You, my friend, haven’t changed a bit."
"Well you have. Just look at you, tribal paint and everything!"
"I got promoted." He answered smoothly. "For some reason the tribe over here find something impressive about being "chosen" by a shaman."
"And you've got your little pack of follwers," Graham added, motioning the other 2 mudokons now in the clearing, one carrying a heavy wooden club and the other eezing his spear out of Bezin's chest, "And the arrows: that’s somethin you couldn’t do 20 years ago."
"Practice Graham. And hard work - something you broke records for: being to only person to live 15 years in the factory in Glucose without doing any of it!"
Graham laughed, "I take it back; not even an idiotic escape attempt, getting almost killed and becoming the lead hunter of some tribe could ever change you."
"Chief warrior actually."
"Whatever, I don’t care."
Barry laughed. "Exactly the same as ever. You act like some terrified idiot but the moment we need ya… well, I just watched you sneak into a pack of drunk sligs when you could have easily run away. Not everyone could do that."
"You could! You would have nicked the Orb and tied their legs together before I even got close!" Graham held out the Orb. "It’s your turn to play the hero Barry."
Barry looked at him slowly and then down at the Orb. He smiled suddenly and took it into his own hands. "Yeah, ok. Sounds like fun."
"What about the curse Barry? Aren’t ya scared?" Graham was grinning but Barry knew him well enough to see his fear.
He placed a hand on Graham’s shoulder, "Hey buddy, you’re still alive. The Orb’s out of industrialist claws. Maybe it’s worn off."
And so ends Graham's part of the Quest. Soon will come Part 4, The Sacrifice...
And in the meantime, tell me what you think. Especially about the attack on the sligs.
Last edited by Splat; 02-10-2005 at 09:43 AM..
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and I'm going away to a holiday camp for the weekend 
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