‘Well he wouldn’t have just got up and wandered off, not in his state, surely not?’ Elvis was staring at the outer perimeter of the camp, at the deep greenery ahead of them, somewhere out there, in there, young foggy-headed Eric was wandering about lost. He, Elvis P. Kwerk, intrepid leader, had lost a member of his party and he didn’t like the way he felt about it. Just then Dog appeared in their midst, still heavily bandaged, sidled up to George and seemed to mutter?
‘He’s picked up Eric’s trail!’ declared a jubilant George.
‘What a dog, he should be dead by now,’ Cpt Mo was beaming with admiration for this remarkable canine’s tenacity, not to mention his unquestionable bravery and, for a moment he could swear Dog winked at him.
‘Right then, prepare to break camp.’ There was just the hint of hesitancy in his voice as he gathered up his equipment to load it into the DUKW. They were decamped in minutes, so keen were they to get on the trail and recover their wondering cook. Just fifteen minutes into their journey they came upon the scene that had all the hallmarks of a massacre. There before them was a large clearing with bodies strewn every which way, the ground stained dark with spilt blood. All eyes turned to Dog for this surely was the scene of his fight for life earlier. Dog gave nothing way but kept staring straight ahead,, the direction they were headed. A respectful silence fell upon the party and didn’t change until they were a good few miles past the point of Dog’s struggle. Here they came upon evidence of human occupation, albeit evidence of earlier occupation as it was now quite deserted. A group of square white washed adobe building were standing close together in the form of a triangle, dominated by one large building of similar design smack in the centre. From this latter structure could be seen thin tendrils of wispy smoke gently rising from the one central metal stove-pipe chimney on the building’s centre. DUKW came to a stop on the edge of this small clutch of barn like buildings and the party proceeded, cautiously, on foot, every sense at high alert. Dog led the way, sniffing and looking around him as he move forward. Quite apart from the fact that it all didn’t look right it didn’t feel right either. It was decided that the three of them, Cpt Mo, George and Elvis, split up and searched independently while Dog just simply continued doing what he did, his own thing. It didn’t take long for Dog to pick up the scent, heading from the camp in an Easterly direction. They regrouped and set off in the direction indicated.
‘ There doesn’t appear to have been any undue coercion involved, in fact it all looked like it’d been a quite peaceful departure.’ Remarked George.
‘Remember,’ cautioned Elvis, ‘we’re dealing with ‘Fordor’ influence here, anything, that’s literally ‘anything’ can happen. We cannot drop our guard for a second.’ They moved on in silence, a very nervous silence, the kind of silence one saves for those very special occasions when all else seems not to cover the situation quite like this.
They wouldn’t have to wait long for that silence to be shattered by the piercing squawk of a Murder of black crows swooping down on them from behind. ‘You know what that means?’ asked Capt. Mo.
‘Yeah’ said Elvis, “it means crows are noisy buggers.’
‘It means that wolves are not far behind, that’s what it means, my friend. They act as spotters for the wolves, really quite organised when you think about it’ There was a touch of admiration in his voice at this point.
‘This means it doesn’t look good,’ offered George. She then felt her sleeve being tugged. Dog was urging her and the others to follow him and by now no one thought for one second about not doing as Dog beckoned. He led them to a large mound which in turn led down to the pebble waterline of huge lake.
‘Well this is just great, isn’t it!’ uttered Elvis. ‘Wolves attacking us from the front with our backs to water and where is DUKW, back at the bloody camp!’ He wasn’t very pleased about this. ‘I guess it couldn’t get any worse now,’ he mused. He was wrong, oh so wrong. Off to their left came the sound of machinery, emanating from within a thick mist. ‘Oh p-l-e-a-s-e-!’ exclaimed Elvis, who was by now busy frantically digging a fox hole for himself with his Swiss Army spoon. In fact not for the first time he was showing signs of being just a little unhinged? Certainly he wasn’t exuding his usual cold calculating super hero self. Wolves heading their way, seeking blood, their blood. Some mechanical menace approaching from their right, camouflaged by mist. Water at their backs. Soon the hidden menace in the mist revealed itself, metal automatons marching in lines two abreast and looking decidedly unfriendly, this was not a social call. These odds were not seen as favourable by any of the group, in fact it was looking very much like a party not unlike the one attended by one Custer on his last day out.
‘Who the hell are they?’ George was now showing signs of uncertainty. ‘What are they?’
‘BIG TROUBLE is what they are, we’re in deep do-do now!’
It was easy to estimate the numbers they were up against, far many, that’s how many! Hundreds of oversized snarling wolves counting on a feast along with a rival legion of robots just out for a smashing scull cracking time. For the first time Elvis felt that very human uneasy feeling of terror mixed with a liberal dose of hopelessness. The thought did cross his mind, the bit that wasn’t in sheer panic, why did he get up this morning? Okay, it was a question. There they stood, Elvis, George and Capt. Mo, back to back, facing the oncoming hordes of impossible number, Dog standing stock still in front of them, forming a straight line from tail tip to snout, eyes fixed on the approaching tsunami of doom. Then something caught George’s eyes coming from the left, what looked like a landslide? Nah, not geologically possible for one thing, landslides weren’t in the habit of travelling alongside water but more into it on a downhill direction. As this image grew it became clear that what it was, in fact, was equally not possible. Approaching at a terrific speed came what appeared to be two figures standing side by side on the crest of a huge wave of what could best be described as a mountain of hot, steaming baked beans. The closer they got the clearer it became that this was none other than Beans Benny accompanied by his old service mate, Eric. Had Eric turned against them, thought the huddled trio?
This un-uttered question was quickly answered when the oncoming wave of hot mush began enveloping the wolves nearest to the mass, adding the all too familiar aroma of overcooked meat with beans. Before the full impact of this unfolding scene struck home with our intrepid trio there came an deafening, ear-splitting CRACK ! ZAP ! FIZZ ! ZIP ! This, along with the accompanying blinding light momentarily stunned animal and humans alike into total immobility. When each regained their senses all became aware of two new players in this deadly game. Side by side they stood, between wolves and their quarry. The shock effect was total for no one or thing could quite believe their eyes because before them, barring their way were two Dragons. But, these weren’t your everyday common dragons, oh no. One was a bright red scaly beast, towering above all before it. The other was just as tall and menacing but perhaps a wee bit stranger to the eye for this one was furry, very much un-dragon-scaly-like but also was a very fetching sky blue colour.
The initial shock and ensuing confusion didn’t last long before hostilities resumed and the wolves charged. Elvis, George and Capt. Mo could only stand open mouthed, transfixed at the sight before them. The wolves that were not baked along with the hot flowing beans, were either incinerated by the fiery breath of the red dragon or frozen brittle so they would snap, by the freezing breath of the other dragon.
George was the first to recover from this astonishing sight.
‘It’s Idris! He said he would come when needed.’
‘So it is,’ said Elvis, ‘but who or what the hell is the other walking Axminster?’
Before this question could be answered they were approached by their former enemy, now seemingly ally, Beans Benny and their errant cook friend, Eric. The sight of these two together merely added to the state of confusion and unease felt by Elvis and his companions, with the exception, oddly enough, of Dog who went up to the advancing pair and to the astonishment of all, grabbed Eric’s sleeve in his mouth and led him to the waiting trio. It was Eric who broke the silence of confusion.
‘Sorry we were a bit late there but we had to stop and pick up some ‘supplies’, we were clean out of sprouts oh, and cooking sherry. I trust everyone is okay?’
‘I don’t rightly know quite what to say,’ was all Elvis could utter.
‘It’s good to see you are safe and seemingly sound, young man,’ was Georges response, looking at Eric stroking Dog’s head like they were old friends, ‘you appear to have made a new friend, too’ Then all attention turned to the other figure before them, their once fierce enemy and now saviour, who now stepped forward with outstretched hand offered by way of a friendly greeting. Cpt Mo was the first to accept the proffered hand of friendship.
‘A most welcome and timely arrival if not a bit surprising, I’m Capt. Mo and pleased to meet you’
‘It’s good to meet you too, I’m Benny, Eric’s old army mucker’
‘We’ve had a bit of a chat,’ added Eric, in answer to the unspoken question in the eyes of his three companions. ‘There had been something of a misunderstanding which has now been straightened out, isn’t that right, Benny?!’
Elvis eyed the two individuals standing before him, searching for the tiniest giveaway sign of trickery. This whole thing was far, far too wild even for E. P. Kwerk to take in and one thing he didn’t want right now was to be taken in. For what seemed an age there was an embarrassing silence, no one able to readily accept this implausible explanation and yet hoping it was true and heralded the end of a rather nasty episode.
Benny held both hands up in front of him indicating submission and broke the uncomfortable silence hovering over the scene. ‘Please, please my friends, if I may call you that, what Eric says is the absolute truth, I was cruelly done the dirty on by those I thought were my friends. In fact it was a hoax that went too far and certain individuals got carried away a bit. Thanks to Eric here I was enabled to see the truth of it all but not before I’d caused havoc in a few places, for which I am truly sorry. If there is any way I can help you all by way of paying for my poor behaviour please tell me.’
All eyes were on Benny who was standing before them, shoulders drooping in a forlorn posture. He no longer had the look of a maniacal demon bent on destruction but more the naughty school boy who had been caught peeping through Matron’s keyhole. Now awaiting sentence to be passed upon him. Gone all traces off the swagger that stood astride the tsunami of deadly steaming hot baked beans. It was at this point that Dog grabbed George’s attention by tugging at her sleeve, causing her to make a 180 degree turn to face the until then forgotten addition to the party, the two dragons.
Both stood towering over the group but looking about as menacing as a couple of cuddly bunnies, if you liked your bunnies either fiery red and scaly or mostly white fluffy and actually smiling, was he/it/she, nah, not likely and yet?
It was the red one who made first contact.
‘Got your methage. Lookth like we were none too thoon. Actually we were in between thtories at the time, a throke of look, you might thay.’
Elvis looked at George who looked at Capt. Mo who was just staring up at this massive red scaly living mountain who was actually talking to them, beside which stood an equally enormous now white furry beast, wearing for all intents and purposes the cutest smile, almost an apologetic smile even. It was the towering mass of red scales that appeared to be doing the talking and wasn’t clear to whom he was talking to, until Dog barked. This seemed to satisfy the huge beast by way of acknowledgement. It was the beast’s next words that put the scene into the category of the surreal, as if it wasn’t already there.
‘Tho who have we here?’ as the dragon spoke its spiky sharp talon pointed to the group. ‘Aren’t you going to introduth uth, Dog?’
George stepped forward and looked up to the red beast.
‘Allow me, Idris. These are my good friends Elvis, Capt. Mo and over there, Eric who arrived here with Benny. You already know Dog, don’t you’ This wasn’t a question just confirmation, for Iris, the proud huge fiery red dragon had been addressing Dog in the first place.
‘Pleathed to meet you all. You theemed to be in a thpot of bother back there. But forgive me, thith ith terrible, I haven’t introduthed you all to my couthin here, Windy Blu, of the Arctic. The mountain of white fur bowed respectfully to the party. Idris continued, ‘’He doethn’t thpeak much but he’th a good friend. Oh, and as you may have notithed, he tenth to change colour, on occathion,, uthually when upthet. We were in between thtories when we heard Dog call and he only callth when itth abtholutely nethetherry.’
Elvis wiped away the Idris’s spittle from his jacket, remarking almost to himself.
“I bet you’re glad that intro is over.”
‘I beg yourth?’ said Idris’, mildly.
‘’Oh nothing, nothing at all’’ Elvis’s wee aside scurried away in embarrassment.
Dog grabbed George’s sleeve indicting she look East.
‘’We’re not out of the woods yet, according to Dog’
‘You’re dead right there,’ added Benny, ‘there are more nasties on the way, this was only the first wave.’ After a moment’s silence Benny continued. ‘You all need to cross the lake. My way of making amends is to fight a rear guard action giving you time to make your escape. No discussion, my decision, now go and best of luck. I know whom it is you are chasing down, from first-hand experience. You’ll have more chance this way.’
Eric turned to his long time army buddy’
‘You must come with us, you’ll get massacred.’
‘No, I must do this, Eric, besides, those dingoes have no idea who they are dealing with. They will discover at their cost just who they are dealing with, me, Beanz Bennie, scourge of the N-A-A-F-I ! Now go before I let my sprouts onto you.’
‘just one question,’ said Elvis, looking out across the lake, a lake more the size of a small sea than an inland water, the opposite side not actually being visible from where there were standing.
‘Which is?’ countered George.
‘Not a problem,’ said Capt. Mo, already anticipating the unspoken question. Twisting a small dial on his wrist watch he calmly announced that, ‘DUKW will be here in a jiffy.’ No sooner had these words left his lips when DUKW appeared from out of the wood.
‘Impressive,’ said Elvis.
‘Okay everybody, climb aboard and let’s get across that Lake.’ Turning to Benny he offered his hand, which Benny accepted and shook vigorously before walking away in the direction of the wood from whence he came. Looking every bit the man on a mission.
The DUKW was about halfway across when the first sounds of conflict were heard from the wood they had left behind. A stiff breeze began to blow, growing in strength until it drowned out any sounds of a fight and, in a matter of minutes it was a full blown storm sending waves of icy cold water crashing over DUKW, tossing the craft about like the proverbial cork in a barrel. Kwerk had been in some tough spots in his time, fought some of the fiercest beast in creation and others but this, water. Well, it was very wet and, contrary to reason, very hard when it hit you. He was staring into his fourth sick bag when someone cried out.
‘Land in sight!’
They’d made it, they were across, while on the far shore Benny was busy buying them time. It was quite a distance across the lake and, with such a storm blowing, impossible to hear anything from that far shore. They could only imagine Benny was holding out but it couldn’t be long before he succumbed to his inevitable fate. There wasn’t enough time for such thought, however, because the storm was over in the blinking of an eye, well, a flash of light actually, light so intense it felt like it was burning its way through one’s scull to the other side and back again. The last conscious thing Elvis remembered of that time was thinking to himself, Oh ‘ell, what now, hope I wake up soon and end this nightmare.
