Born Hard Again: Book Three of the Future Remembered Chronicles (8 page)

BOOK: Born Hard Again: Book Three of the Future Remembered Chronicles
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Sensing my frustration with him, Alphonso was quiet for a moment, trying hard to look thoughtful.  His face lit up.

"Preston!  I know what to do!" he exclaimed to my surprise.

"You do?" I asked with uncertainty.

"Yes!" he ran to the back of the sled and began rooting around for something behind one of the upturned couches.

Glancing over to Koochy, I saw that he was beset by wires, electronic components and dimly lit little energy cells.  I grinned at my assumption that my friend's mortal form was soon to rejoin our little posse.

"Here!" Alphonso returned, carrying a large board with a few small yellow sticky notes stuck to it.

"What?" I asked, bewildered.

"Preston, I did like you said and used my listening and thinking powers to contribute!" he boasted proudly.

As the board grew closer to me, I could read the poor handwriting on the two sticky notes on the board.  One said "KNEE? FIX."  and had a big green checkmark on it.  The other said "???" and I noticed it was missing its green checkmark.  I shook my head and covered my face with my palm.

"See, Preston, I could tell by
listening
to you that we had a lot to do.  So much to do that probably the best thing to do first, and to do really well, is to make sure you don't forget all the things?  See, because, what if you forgot TK and just went to Old Cleveland?  Wait, why do you want to go to Old Cleveland?  I thought we were going to Old Detroit?" he became distracted and trailed off.

I began to answer but stopped short.  Why did we want to go to Old Cleveland?  That plan was made before we had discovered Alphonso in the wreckage of Putin's snow chariot.  Marcus seemed to be finding what he needed in the remains of the cockpit.  After he was finished, would he have enough power to open the door that held my lover?  I would have felt a lot better with a big gun in my mitts, but I supposed we had faced fiercer foes with less firepower.

"Actually, I'm not sure we do need to go to Old Cleveland," I told him and realized that I was a bit disappointed to not see my namesake.

This excited Alphonso even more.

"See, Preston!  This will help you out.  I learned about it from those software guys back at the Marduk Research Facility.  They called it a c
an-can board
."

"What?" I laughed.

"No, really.  This is like, how they make compute-pads and stuff.  They write up all the stuff they need to do, like '
get compute-pad
', '
make compute-pad compute
', '
don't hold it wrong
'," he explained to me.  "Then they write each thing down and stick it on here and move it around so it looks smart.  That's how they make compute-pads," he crossed his arms triumphantly, proud to have relayed some technical knowledge he did not comprehend.

"What on earth," I shook my head.  "That's stupid."

He shook his head more emphatically than I.

"No, Preston, it's just too smart.  It seems stupid because you aren't a compute-pad programmer."

I laughed disrespectfully and turned to Marcus.

"Yeah, but Marcus is.  Marcus!" I called for his attention.

"Yo, what the fuck, mane?  I be busy, fo' rea'," he didn't look up.

"Alphonso over here is trying to teach me about a... can-can board, or something compute-pad programmers use.  You know anything about that?" I inquired.

Instead of shouting back his usual obscenity-laden, barely relevant tirade, Koochy just paused his engineering and lolled his swollen face at me.  After a wordless moment of scathing dead-eye contact, he returned to his work.  Embarrassed that I had given any attention to Alphonso's idiotic ramblings, I did not turn back to face him and wordlessly walked over to Koochy.

Alphonso, unaware of my snubbing, chimed in cheerfully, "Hey guys, don't worry.  I'll write up our plan on sticky notes for the can-can board.  Then we can move them around together!  I'm so glad you guys are back."

"How's it looking?" I asked Koochy, ignoring Alphonso.

"Good, mane," he showed me his work.  "Shit is comin' along good, bruh." 

The compute-pad jutting out from the side of his suit had already been heavily augmented, even in just the ten or so minutes that he had been fiddling with it.  The numerous, dimly glowing energy cells wrapped up in, and around, the tangle of wires now surrounding the compute-pad made them look like some kind of Christmas decorations.  Of course, the holiday that was long ago called Christmas had been politicized, nationalized, banned, restored, banned again, persecuted and was now prohibited.  When I was a little child, well, the first time I was a little child, I recalled my mother regaling me with bed time tales of a colony on the outskirts of the galaxy that was entirely dedicated to the fulltime pursuit of Christmas.

"You got enough to bring yourself back yet?" I asked him.

"What?  Naw, son!" Koochy retorted, loudly.  "Ain't no fo' rea' powa in dis here busted ass bullshit!  Shit ain't got no networkin neitha!"

I furled my brow.

"So what are you doing then?" I asked.

"Big Kooch in need fo' dat weed, son!  Unnnghhh!  My ass be stayin' high!  I got dem greens in my taco!" he educated me.

"What?!"  I couldn't believe it.  Of course, knowing Koochy, I could believe it, but I didn't want to.  "Marcus!  TK is waiting on us!  I thought you were working on reanimating yourself!  Weed?!  What kind of..." I looked around us.  "Where do you even get weed in here?  What does that have to do with your compute-pad?"

"Bitch, dis hea' da futcha!" he made the sound of smacking his mouth and talked down to me.  "Dem science ass niggas done figured out dem weed brainwaves, yo!  I got dem resonant neural frequencies on mothafuckin' lock, son!  Almost... dere..." he slowed his slang speech to focus on something he was finagling on his compute-pad. 

"Unnnghhh!" he exclaimed, forcefully.  "Got dat shit, mane!"

I sighed, heavily. 

"Jesus, Marcus," I lamented.

"Hey, dat ain't a bad idea, cuz," even over the compute-pad, I could recognize the change in his voice that signified he was high.  Despite my frustrations with his timing and sense of urgency, I had to admit his technical prowess was astounding.

"So," I thought quickly.  "I guess we still have to go to Old Cleveland before we can rescue TK?"

"Ahem," Alphonso interjected.  "That's not what our can-can board says.  Look right here, it says
after
we get TK we go to Old Cleveland."

"Fuck outta here wit dat damn can-can shit," Koochy kicked his booted foot at Alphonso and his board, which now boasted several yellow sticky notes.  "Yea, 'fraid so, P.  We needa take ourse'ves to da OC!"

My shoulders slumped.  I didn't have the heart to reach out to TK.  To tell her that we would be some time in returning.  That she was on her own until then.  I took comfort from the thought of her mysterious regenerative powers.  The woman had survived a starring role in a successful snuff porn film, after all.

I decided I could wait to tell her the bad news.

"What bad news?!" TK's thoughts shrilled into my brain.  Dammit.

"Sorry, babe," I thought back, reluctantly.  "We found Alphonso, but we still don't have enough power to get through that door.  Can you do anything on your side?  We could get you out of the ground if you can get yourself on the other side of that door!"

She was silent for a minute.

"I've been trying!" she thought back, desperately.  I didn't doubt her futile efforts, but they were irrelevant.

"Okay then, baby," I thought back.  "I think we're going to have to go to Old Cleveland before we can come get you.  I don't know how long that's going to take us.  It could be a while."

"Just get here!" TK pleaded.  "Fast!"

I frowned and pressed my lips together, grimly.

"Ay!  Ay, P!" Koochy called out from his compute-pad as well as the ship's loud speakers.  "Yo, somethin's comin'!  Get ready!"

"What?" I asked, forgetting about TK.  "What do you mean?"

"Yo, I be all up in dis whip's 'lectro's and shit!  Somea da sensors, dey still be workin'.  I dunno what tha fuck dis be what is comin' but I'll tell you one thang, dem bitches is big!" his amplified voice boomed through the chariot's interior.

Alphonso and I rushed over to the windows and the door of the cockpit, scanning for some visual indication of Koochy's prediction.

"Here!  Over here!"  Alphonso was shouting from the open doorway.  "Look, Preston!  Look!"

I rushed over and shoved him out of the way. 

"Holy f-fu-fuck!" I stammered as I beheld the scene. 

Two enormous white blobs were moving quite briskly toward us across the surface of the frozen lake.  I estimated they were roughly the size of small buses.  Squinting, I was able to see them a bit better in the pre-dawn light.  They were definitely organic beings of some sort, with milky slick skin that gleamed as they sped along, leaving some kind of beautiful frozen wake behind them. 

"Bitch, what it be?" Koochy thundered.

"I.. I dunno," I called back over my shoulder.  "It looks like... some... kind of giant... slug?  A huge ice slug?"

"Ohh, shit, son!  Hooooo!"  Koochy hollered.  "A damn... what dey call dat?  Ah yeah, a damn mollusca maritimus!  We game dis shit right and we goan hitch our asses a ride, boy!"

"What's the plan?" I asked him.

"Yeah!" Alphonso brandished a fistful of sticky notes. "What's the plan?"

"Man, get dat shit out muh sight, you ol' ass-face-ho'!"  Koochy said as he stood up and pushed Alphonso away.

"We needa get dem big bitches ta pass by right in fronta our whip.  Dis thang got some kinda ropes and harnesses shit up in tha front of it.  I be all up in dem sys'ems an' if one a ya'll 'tarded asses can get dem where I want 'em, I got dis, mane!  Unnnghhh!"

I knew one thing, it sure as hell wasn't going to be me who went back out on that ice hoping to attract those behemoths.  I looked at Alphonso, who was dumbly, and eagerly, staring at Koochy's swelling, increasingly discolored face.  Almost like a puppy that was so desperately hoping his master would throw the ball so he could fetch it. 

A grin spread over my face and I slyly put my plan into action.  Slipping behind Alphonso, I got close to his can-can board. 

"You know," I told him while I worked surreptitiously.  "That's pretty cool of you to go out there and wrangle those ice monsters."

"What?" Alphonso's day-dreamy expression contorted into one of revulsion.  "Uh uhh!  No way, guys.  I'm not going out there!  I mean, I
just
got my knee all better and stuff!"

"Ha ha," I chuckled.  "Good one, Alphonso.  I mean, seriously.  Of course, it wouldn't be you.  It would be me, the dick-footed toddler Jesus.  Or, him," I gestured to Koochy.  "He's still dead!  Come on, Alphonso.  Of course it's you."

"Nuh uh, Preston.  I don't want to end up like you guys.  I mean, I'm sure your feet are very nice and all.  And Koochy, I'm sure you'll still get... bitches, or whatever."

"Whachu mean, 'whateva' ?"  Koochy threw his gang signs defensively.  "Big Kooch don’t be doin' it wit' no 'whateva', sucka. 
Yo
ass look like some kinda whateva fucked a damn armadillo.  Yo ass like a big, white flabby ass armadillo wit' yo pointy ass nose and shit.  Root, root, do da armadillo!  Unnnghhh!  How you like me now?!"

I grabbed Alphonso by the shoulders and shook him. 

"TK is trapped down there!  Listen to me!  You are going out there.  We've got to get our shit together!  Fast!" I yelled inches from his pale face.

"I dunno, Preston..." he seemed to be warming to the idea.  "My knee..."

"You just said it was all healed up!  Come on, Alphonso.  You are good at running...." I pressured.

"Hm... well," he seemed to light up.  "I really wish I could help you guys.  But..." he pointed to the board, covered in sticky notes.  "It's not on the board!  Not.  My.  Problem."  He crossed his arms, defiantly.

I smirked.  It bothered me that he was so dumb, but in this case, I had the upper hand.

"Look closer," I told him.

"What?" he looked scared. 

I pointed to one of the notes on the board. 

ALPHONSO GETS THE MONSTERS
read the sticky note.

"No..." Alphonso said weakly.  "Well....poo."

He hung his head in resignation and, for a moment, I was concerned he might cry.  However, when he lifted his eyes, a dogged determination gleamed back at me.

"All right then, fellas," he smacked his fist into his hand.  "I am ready to do this!  I've survived worse than this.  Far worse!"

"Ay, son, sit yo' ass down!  And listen," Koochy educated him.  "Now, you goan go out dere and be all hootin' and hollerin', like '
hey!  hey you big snow booger lookin motha fuckas!  Over here!
'  Den, when dey start gettin' up on you and shit, das when you bring them up ta tha fronta dis hea snow-mobile, ya hear' me?  Den, I be puttin' dat harness on dem and BAM!  We got ourse'ves a ride ta mothafuckin c-town.  Awwww yeah, sucka!  Unnnnghhh!"

BOOK: Born Hard Again: Book Three of the Future Remembered Chronicles
3.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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