MDG
Oh Man
What a rough night. It is hard to sleep with a solid fin of hair
jutting out from the top of your head. Then…I’m not sure if was CW’s cat
or what, but we were woken up early by the sounds of Jack cursing. As
soon as I crawled out of the tent, some kind of crazy brown desert mutt
was in my face. When I kicked it, it exploded into a shower of dust.
That was weird. Jack was going to town with some ball and chain weapon.
Who knows how many he dusted.
Later he got into my face talking about some guy Wivalynn and how his
creatures would get stronger as he drew closer and we had to keep
moving. SJ is frantic. She knows this guy is after her shovel, but she
calls him Willaim Lynn. It is all very confusing.
So now we are getting ready to hike out into the sun. My Little Wax
Head Boy mohawk keeps dripped wax over my face and I have to hold
Crystalwizard’s cat half the time and Dahtoe won’t stop trying to peck
at it and then the cat freaks out and I get an armful of claws.
Another thing I’m getting sick of is all of these kangaroo rat
sandwiches. We may have to stop somewhere for supplies soon, but I think
I might have lost my wallet in a canyon somewhere and besides how can
we go shopping with a dozen rattlesnakes, a manic seagull, a neurotic
cat, and a Humming Shovel. Oh it is doing Sunshine Of Your Love again.
Hmm Hmmm Hmmm Hmmm
Hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm
SJ
WHY
have we stopped??? We should be still on the move. Shovel thinks so.
The Cat is more than happy to keep going, with Dahtoe using his tail as
target practice. Jack understands – I can tell by the way he grunts. So
why are we parked here? Because of Mike. Who says he can’t go any
further. Reckons that with his hair all waxed up, he needs his rest. If
William catches up with us – Mike will be getting a lot more rest than
he bargained for…
And he’s welcome to the tent. I’m moving into Jack’s shelter. I don’t
care that it’s all bare rock and half-cured leather. At least if
William comes for Shovel and me, Jack is capable of fighting him off.
Whereas Mike is just up for feeding me more of those pink pills and
flipping into full sooth-mode. You know the kinda thing, ‘Don’t you
worry your little old head, SJ. William Lynn is only a figment of your
imagination. There’s no way that Shovel can sense evil…’
And this is the man whose been singing songs with Shovel for the past 2 days! Mr Consistency he ain’t.
I think we’re approaching the edge of the desert. There’s a loom of
light on the horizon that might be civilization. I hope. Trouble is, I
can’t tell exactly how much further we have to go before we get there.
But I reckon we have to keep on going through the night. So does Shovel.
I’m wondering if I bang Mike on the head with Shovel, we can knock him
cold and carry him… Or maybe Jack could lash up some sort of travois
with a couple of buffalo skeletons and rattleskins. If we harnessed The
Cat, he could – at last – make himself useful by helping to haul Mike
along if we put Dahtoe in a cage just behind him.
Um. That won’t work. Well – it might. But there’s no way anyone is going to manage to put that crazy seagull in a cage…
The rest of the plan might be OK, though. I’ll run it by Jack. We
CANNOT afford to stop for the night. Shovel is positive that William is
too close. And if he gets hold of Shovel – well, that’s unthinkable. It
mustn’t happen. That’s all.
MDG
Whatta
SJ is trying to make me come off sounding all lazy. I’m the one
carrying the backpack full of water and rats, while all she carries is
The Shovel. Now she is sleeping next to Jack ‘for warmth.’ Man that guy
gets all the chicks. It must be the sideburns.
We have a new problem. Well, we have a lot of problems, but I won’t
go there. SJ saw the lights, while we walked all dang night. No its not
Vegas. It was theflippin Hoover Dam. At least I know I’m still on earth.
I was beginning to wonder.
So now the issue is what to do. I might be able to get the cat and
Dathoe over, even with my foot high melting mohawk, but I’m not sure
about the snakes and The Shovel.
Jack says we should not risk a crossing here because Wivalynn, or
William Lynn or whatever is name is, might have men staked out here. I
was so delirious that I agreed to follow Jack, as he took us south into a
maze of some of the roughest canyons I have ever seen.
Crystalwizard’s cat digs her claws into my back, as I follow Jack
through the jagged cliffs. The whole time Dahtoe is is mocking us from
above as he coasts on the winds.
Wivalynn must have summoned another pack of mutes for I can hear them
following us. Jack wants to cross the raging colorado. I’m not sure how
we are going to do that, but it doesn’t matter now because we are still
a dozen mountains away from it.
We could really use a break. If anyone out there can help us-without invloving the authorities- please do.
At least Jack’s snakes hunted down and killed a deer. Still, I’m not sure how save it is to eat this venom filled meat.
Oh shot, it sounds like the pack is getting closer. I have to go!
SJ
I want to place it on
record – I am NOT having an affair with Jack. However, whatever
transpires between a man and my tool is entirely their own business…
Meantime, we are now across the Colorado. We are all still alive if a
little soggy – which is more than can be said for that bunch of bozos
that tried to ambush us on the other side of the river. Jack is
certainly a POWERFUL guy when he goes into berserker mode – even the
seagull knew to back off. And so – I am glad to say – is Shovel… They
certainly have a lot in common. Mind you, the snakes also accounted for
one or three of William’s thugs.
And the deer that Mike was fussing about? Jack skinned it and made a
coracle with it and the travois we used to drag Mike along till he came
around. Shovel suggested that hitting Mike over the head might kill him –
and he got upset in case he lost his hum-buddy… So I dosed him with
those pills he keeps shovelling down my throat. I’m now seriously
concerned about my longtime health – Mike was out cold for 6 hours. He
can’t even remember that we put him on the travois. It took him another 2
hours before he recalled his own name…
No wonder I’ve been getting memory blanks…
Oh – and CW, I’m sorry. The Cat didn’t like the idea of getting in
the coracle. In all the fighting and confusion, he ran off. We’re hoping
that we catch him again. Dahtoe is looking for him as we speak. We’ll
let you know as soon as we find him. Sorry…
MDG:
Oh my head.
Well I’m glad The Shovel still likes me. But boy did SJ get mad about
that comment I maderegarding her and Jack. Ouch my head. I’m glad The
Shovel held back his mojo, or I might not be writing this.
I think we are hopelessly lost now, since during the crossing my maps
washed away and with me being unconsious they no longer had my
excellent navigational skills.
And we lost the cat. Crystalwizard is going to kill me. The only
thing I live for is my slush reading for Abandoned Towers and now I see
it all slipping away, unless I can find that cat. Dahtoe had better find
it or I am doomed. At least I am still soggy and hard to light.
Also Scott I’m getting more worried about Little Wax Head Boy. A lot
of him might have washed away when we crossed the Colorado. Yep the
mohawk is still there, but he is not talking anymore.
Jack is all beat up and things are getting lonely and tense here after
the attack. There are only the four of us now and a few snakes. Jack has
gone off to collect more. I try to talk to SJ, but she is jealious
about the growing relationship The Shovel and I are developing and she
doesn’t want to let me near.
Once it started to grow dark I saw the signs of city lights, but they
were to the south and I know Vegas should be to the west. I hope Jack
makes it back soon. Shoot right nowI would settle for Dahtoe. I think
the shadows are moving unnaturally. So we are either about to be
attacked, my head wound is making me see things, or those meds have not
left my system yet.
Does any out there live near Vegas or Kingman? I could use a sandwich.
To be continued….
