Dissident, Part Two

Of course the bunny heard the fall, and of course it startled him, but it didn’t inspire fear, necessarily. The yelp was youthful, distinctly native…almost recognizable, even. He’d heard that voice somewhere before. Was someone he knew in this with him? Was it the cave aliens using his own memories against him? Gonzo couldn’t tell, but he wasn’t about to go looking. Instead, he stood still in the pool, silencing his own splashes in the process.

With less to go on as far as Gonzo’s location—or if he was even still there—Colton followed the fork in the tunnel that lead to the noises he’d heard last. He moved slow, painfully slow against the wall, the icy rainwater stinging and numbing his toes as he writhed in the heavy denim suit, but it was worth it if it meant Gonzo’s comfort. Before long, a biped could be seen deeper in, standing dead still, and Colton froze to match him.

“…Raccoon kid?” the biped spoke.

“Gonzo?” Colton called back. Assuming being recognized meant the coast was clear, he picked up the pace towards Gonzo, but the bunny only stepped back.

“Whoa, whoa, little man,” Gonzo cautioned. “I gotta make sure you haven’t been followed or nothing.”

Colton looked over both his shoulders and overhead for any other maintenance ladders hiding aliens. Not a soul was around. “Well, I don’t see anyone…”

Gonzo only listened. Sniffing a little, chilly and pained as his nose was. His own eyes and ears put him at ease, and soon, he approached Colton himself, less tense than before.

“Sorry about that, raccoon kid. You never know. How’d you get past the tripods?”

“I—hid in my room,” Colton hesitated. Why didn’t I think of a story? “And—when everyone was gone, I—ran out of the—building.”

Gonzo seemed satisfied enough with the answer. “Good you made it out, man. You get hit with those cannons—they melt your bones and stuff, into a little pile! It’s like you were never even there…”

“Great.” Colton pulled a face and winced, lifting a foot at a time out of the water in a vain attempt to warm them. “U-um, listen, is there—someplace less painful we can go?”

“You’re asking me, raccoon kid. This water bites.” He paused for another brief moment to look around; at what, Colton wasn’t sure. “I think this stuff drains to the lake down that way, if the grate’s open.”

Colton nodded, eager to find it. “S-sounds good.”

Comments are closed.