A World of InTemperance (The Adventures of Ichabod Temperance Book 2) (13 page)

We climb back out the front window, the way we came in, and join the mêlée.

It’s too close here for the use of mein shaughtte-gun. The quarters being vat they are, zis ees a fist fight.

Vhich is okay vith me!

And James!

And the city of Winniedepuh!

And, unfortunately, our frog friends.

“Wrought with wrath, I’m ready to wrestle reptilian wraiths; whether wrenching wrists or wringing rotaters, I right the wrong of rest interrupted.”

“Good, Wolf-Wolf, well stated.”

“Thank you, James. Zeez Winniedepuhvians are a hearty bunch! Stern stuff they are made of! Not like some child’s stuffed toy.”

James is really showing an ability to fight! Punching, kicking, gouging and throwing. He really is a Secret Agent Man! These are the moves of a well trained individual!

“Hello, James.”

I am reluctant to interrupt his martial display.

“Yeah, Wolfie?”

James is a man at home and in his element.

“Could you please get rid of zat hat?”

Murray’s eyes cross as he tries to look up at his fashionable ladies’ chapeau that he had acquired by way of accidental incidence. Its height and breadth are as great as the arm-span of the lanky gentleman on which it rests.

“Hunh. It was so comfortable, I forgot I had it on.”

He quickly exchanges it for the more masculine cap of one of our adversaries. The monkey frog soldier is at first astounded, and then very pleased with the upgrade.

“Come on, Wolfgang, follow me!”

“Vhere are you going James? This is a storage district.”

“Hey, Wolfie, amphibian aggressors ambush us at every avenue. How about keeping me protected while I open this lock?”

“James, vhat are you do? Smoke is pouring out of that shed you are unlocking! There is a fire in there! Vee have enough troubles! Vee do not have zee time to play fireman!”

The whistling idiot does not even notice the thick smoke billowing from the door’s frame, windows, and from beneath the eaves of the house.

Throwing open the double doors of the stable, he uses his monkey man hat to sweep coal smoke from the enclosure.

I turn back to the business of reptile population reduction.

“Hop in, Wolfie old boy!”

James has pushed a gleaming steamer free of her garage. Her furnace glows with remarkable heat. Her boilers are set to burst with a pressure that begs to be released. She throbs with expectancy.

Her passenger compartment, is disappointingly cozy.

“Vhere do I put mein other foot?”

“Put a skip in your jumpabout, Metzy-Baby, and get in.”

“How do you say that vith a straight face, James. Patting the few scant inches of red leather upholstery beside you only makes your invitation all the more ridiculous.”

“Quit playing around and get in the steamer-carriage, Wolfgang!”

“Nein. Seriously. Does another compartment transform from out of the diminutive trunk space?”

“Don’t be a dill, get in.”

“So says the man with his knees around his ears. Nnngrrnnh. … Unh.”

Somehow, I have joined James in his hot little car.

“I’m releasing the engine and gear interfacing,
now!
”

Black rubber balloons adorn the wire spoked rims. Spinning with latexual ecstasy, they scream in climactic release. We almost hover in space. The road-car completes a series of three hundred and sixty degree circles before plowing through a growing mountain of amphibian animosity.

“Arriving by train did nothing to help my navigational skills. How in blooming Gladiolae are we supposed to get out of this snowburg?”

“Vee must disengage ourselves from the cavalry that pursues us!”

BO
O
OM!!!

“It eez considerate of them to bunch together in little groups. One blast from zee shaught gunne proves to be most economical.”

Rifle bullets hum past our ears.

As busy as James is, working an extraordinary amount of levers, valves and pedals, as well as the steering mechanism, he is able to locate and engage a small, hidden control.

As James twirls this knob, a metal plate rises from behind our heads. It is a shield!

Rifle bullets ricochet from the steel obstacle.

“A nice option to include, Mr. Murray.”

“You ain’t seen nothing, yet, Wolf-Wolf.”

We hit a wide avenue. James shifts the drive mechanism into a speedier gear ratio. A score of horses, carrying a hundred screaming monkey frog monsters stream out behind. Another hundred pad along on foot, keeping pace pretty well.

James vinks at me.

He engages another hidden lever.

Several nozzles deploy along the protective metal bar that crosses the back of the roadster.

“Work that pump, mate.”

James indicates a handle that I should employ. I follow his directions. As I do, I get the sensation of fluid movement.

Black oil sprays from the jets in wide angled fans from a secreted position at the rear of the carriage. The street behind us is soon coated in a viscous sheen.

Poor horses. Several misused beasts take a tumble, their hooves suddenly slippery. More unfortunate horses slide into the tumbled horses tumbling over themselves, also. I believe the horses are all right. The riders, though, not so much.

Reptilian pedestrian pursuit continues unabated.

I vish vee could abate them, somehow.”

“Pull that lever, Wolfgang.”

This I pull.

Small pointy spikes are dropped behind.

“Caltrops! Frogmen dance, but not with delight.”

“Pull that lever, Wolfie, old boy.”

“Again, dutifully, I pull. Ha, ha ballbearings are released! Wunderbar!

“Pull that lever, Woof-Woof.”

“Zat eez not mein name! Please do not call me zat!”

But I pull the lever.

A smoke screen billows out behind us!

Positively insidious.

“Ja, I vill pull this one, next.”

“Mr. Metzger! Nein! Nein! Nein!
Don’t
pull that lever!”

“Vhy not?”

“I want you to stay in the car, Wolfie.”

“I shall withdraw mein hand.”

“This should be the road leading out of town.”

“Look James, a hasty barricade has been thrown up, across the road to prevent our escape!”

“Quick, Wolfgang! Pull that lever, and wind that wheel.”

“The lanterns on the front of the carriage are being cranked to the side.”

“Pull that lever.”

“Two steel pipes have slid out, from their place of concealment behind the lanterns.”

“Pull those two chambering slides.”

“Check.”

“Grab that double-handled, thumb-switch, joystick that has slid up between your legs. Good boy, now take a firm hold on the handgrips, and stand by to gently push the butterfly trigger.”

“I think I am getting the idea, James.”

“Gang way you smelly tadpoles! We’re coming through! Let ’em have it Metzger!”

I gently engage the triggers vith mein thumbs.

BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!BAM!

Rapid high-powered rifle fire explodes from the barrels, spitting lead destruction upon the obstacle to our freedom.

The wooden barricade disintegrates in a cloud of splinters.

We blast through, the barricade uninhibited. James lays on the whistle, just to annoy the little fellows, I think.

We pour on steam, making for Kuetinpeenk. We leave the stalwart citizenry of Winniedepuh to deal with the saurian soldiers.

I hope mein friend Ichabod and his companions Cogito and Bolt have survived the deadly force of cavalry that was so fervently trying to kill them. They were headed into a wilderness, with no hope of support.

I feel shame at having allowed mein friend to shield me.

I pray for the safety of our lady friends: zee extraordinary Miss GoldenBear, zee perspicacious Miss Plumtartt, and even though I have every confidence in her, I carry an especially strong concern for Mademoiselle DeeDee Gauzot. Please be all right, mein Fraulein.

P.O.V. Ichabod

“Attaboy Cogito! You’re doin’ just fine!”

“Your confidence is appreciated, Mr. Temperance, even if your sincerity is in doubt.”

~Bang!~

“Got one, Mr. Cogito!”

“Very good, sir, that’s one down, and approximately five hundred combatants, give or take, to go.”

“Gee, these monkeys are persistent, ain’t they?”

“Positively obsessive, Ichabod.”

“Yessir, they are now managing to fire at us from where they are piled up deep and clinging to them poor horsies.”

“Our Mr. Murray and Mr. Metzger are bearing to the right, back toward Winniedepuh. Do we follow them, Ichabod?”

“Nossir, Mr. Cogito, you gotta coax our team of frightened horses to go left!”

“I confess, this is another predicament I find myself tasked with that is beyond my design tolerances. Being bounced and thrown about this sleigh is wreaking havoc with my balancing servos!”

“You done good, Mr. Cogito! We made the turn! See you later, guys!”

“Good luck, Wolfgang and James!”

“Roof!”

“I reckon we’re on our own, now, guys.”

“Chin up, Ichabod, you have work to do, sir. We are in danger of being boarded.”

“Yikes! Sorry, Mr. Cogito, you’re right!”

~Bang!~

“I’ll have to hit another one of these monkey marauders with the butt of my rifle so I can work the carriage bolt.”

~Butt!~

~carriage~

“Golly, now I gotta butt-smack another frog in the mug,
~Butt!~
before I can take aim and fire.”
~Bang!~

~Butt!~

~carriage~

~Butt!~

~Bang!~

~Butt!~

~carriage~

~Bang!~

~carriage~

~Bang!~

~Butt!~

~carriage~

~Butt!~

~Bang!~

~Butt!~

“Reload!”

~Butt!~

“Reload!”

~Butt!~

“Reload!”

~Butt!~Butt!~Butt!~

“Reload, reload!”

~Bang!~

~Butt!~

~carriage~

“You are developing a rhythm, Ichabod.”

~Bang!~
Butt!~carriage~Butt!

~
Bang!~
Butt!~carriage~ ~Butt!

~
Bang!
~Butt!
~
carriage~Butt!

~
Bang!~
Butt!~carriage~Butt!

“Yessir.”

“These low-hanging, snow-laden, tree branches are none too kind, Ichabod.”

“Nossir, at this speed, they are down-right unfriendly.”

“Your rifle fire subsides, Ichabod.”

“Yessir, I done run out my rifle ammo. I still got my pistols, though.”

“I estimate that your sharpshooter skills have negated close to ten percent of our pursuing force. What is the quantity of your pistol ammunition?”

“I’ve got twenty-four rounds in the loops of my pistol belt to reload my six-shooter. My ectoplasm based Pee-Gee Double Dee is loaded with nine discharging projectiles.”

“This is a grand total of thirty-nine, Ichabod. On the chance that you successfully hit a proposed target with each precious cartridge, we can expect another ten percent reduction in active adversaries.”

~pow!~

“Gotcha! Um, those attrition levels ain’t gonna get it, are they?”

~pow!~~pow!~

“Unfortunately, no, my human friend.”

~pow!~~pow!~~pow!~

“I gotta reload the Colt revolver. Oh, Goodness, that there horsie toting about ten Toadies is getting too close! I’m gonna have to fire my Plasmo-Gasmic Discharge Device.”

BUH-WHOOOMP.
POW!!!

BOOMITY, BOOMITY

BOOMITY, BOOMITY

BOO,BOO,BOO,BOO,BOO-BO
O
OM!!!

“Great Volts of Alternating Current! There must be an incendiary element to these creatures’ genetic make-up!”

“Yessir, Mr. Cogito, I betcha the evil origins of their conception disagrees with the charged ectoplasmic retort.”

“Every horse has turned and fled, hurrah!”

“That army is still hot on us, Mr. Cogito.”

~pow!~~pow!~

“They never really needed them horses, no how. With them big, flat, froggy feet of theirs, they just run on top of the snow like they were wearing snowshoes.”

~pow!~~pow!~

“I didn’t like that ecto-discharge going off in my face. I think I’ll pick a target a little further away, when discharging my Pee-Gee Double Dee.”

~pow!~~pow!~

“Aw, heck, they ain’t all bunched together like they was before. I reckon I’m gonna have to take another shot with the Pee-Gee Double Dee while I reload the revolver.”

BUH-WHOOOMP.
POW!!!

BOOMZ
KIDY!!!

“Mr. Temperance, behind you!”

BUH-WHOOOMP.
POW!!!

BOOM-DAH-DAH-BOOM!!!

“I can’t hardly keep up, with all these varmints, y’all!”

~pow!~~pow!~~pow!~

“Roof-roof! Rar-rararar!”

“Leave that canine unit alone!”

“Yipe!”

~pow!~~pow!~~pow!~

“Good job, Bolt. Thanks for helping him, Mr. Cogito.”

“But of course, Ichabod.”

“Stand by for discharge!”

BUH-WHOOOMP.
POW!!!

BUH-BUH-BUH-KOOGE!!!

“We are being approached on the right, Ichabod.”

BUH-WHOOOMP.
POW!!!

BUH
-DOOMP-
BOOM!!!

“The horses are reaching an exhaustion point, Ichabod.”

~pow!~~pow!~~pow!~

“Keep ‘em going as long as you can, Mr. Cogito.”

~pow!~~pow!~~pow!~

“Oh, Golly, Mr. Cogito, this is already my last reload on the Colt. I only got six pistol shots and four ecto-plasm discharges left. There are still hundreds of monsters after us and they are madder than a kicked hornet’s nest.”

“These numbers are not favourable, Ichabod.”

“Nossir, they ain’t. What do I do?”

“I suggest that you make your shots count, sir.”

“Yessir.”

~pow!~

BUH-WHOOOMP.
POW!!!

BAH-DUH-BOOM!!!

~pow!~~pow!~

BUH-WHOOOMP.
POW!!!

BAH-DUH-BLOOEY!!!

BUH-WHOOOMP.
POW!!!

BOOMITY-BOOMITY-BOOMZY!!!

~pow!~~pow!~

“Oh, golly, Mr. Cogito, I am down to one shot in each pistol. Oh, poor little Bolt. I’m sorry I got you into this, buddy. Oh gosh, I can’t stand the thought of them monsters gobbling you up all gone.”

“arun.”

“Oh, Bolt. I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to be eaten.
~gulp~
please don’t cry little guy; I can’t stand it.”

“Be strong, Ichabod, you know what that last bullet is for.”

“Yessir. Oh, no, I don’t want to do this! Please Bolt, Look away. I know you know what I am thinking.”

“arun, arun, arun.”

“Oh, I can’t stand it.”

“Ichabod, you have to do what’s right.”

“Aruuuuuuun!”

“I’m cocking the hammer back on this last round. Aim. Good-bye, Mr. Bolt.”

“Woah, woah, woah... wait!”

“Roof!”

“Attaboy, Bolt, wag your tail, I have an idea!”

“Roof!”

“It practically fell on my head!”

“Roof!”

“I keep worrying about falling off the side of this mountain, so I keep looking to the low side. I almost forgot, there is a high side to the mountain as well.”

“Most observant of you, Ichabod.”

“Cut the horses loose, Mr. Cogito.”

“Is that prudent, Ichabod?”

“Probably not, but I don’t want them to get hurt. Besides I reckon we’ll actually pick up speed down the side of the mountain without them.”

“I understand. I too, do not wish harm to come to these animals. I am releasing them, now.”

“Woah, it feels different to just slide without the control of the horses! Wish me luck, Mr. Cogito, for this has got to be done with precision and is a very long shot.”

“Sir?”

“I mean a long distance!”

BUH-WHOOOMP.
POW!!!

“That bright flash of green light blooming at the base of a particularly large overhang of snow and ice marks an accurate shot.”

{{{
BOOM
!}}}

“I hear the distant detonation of your artillery, sir.”

“There ain’t nothing happening.”

“Give it a moment, sir; listen.”

{{{~
creak~
}}}

“Hey, you’re right, Mr. Cogito, I think I did hear an ominous sound echoe across the landscape.”

{{{~eark~}}}

“Query: Does that mountaintop appear to be, sinking?”

“Um, uh-hunh.”

“Congratulations, Ichabod, you have successfully triggered a Yukon catastrophe. The pendulous promontory winter’s weight loses its battle with gravity in your intentionally instigated avalanche.”

“Yessir, I reckon my ectoplasmic trumpet has brought down the Walls of JericKlondike carnage.”

“The onrushing mountain of of snow laughs at the puny trees that had loomed so large moments ago.”

“Yessir, maybe I did over do it a little.”

“Do you think you may have acted a tad rashly, sir? My projections do not forecast a high chance of survival, Ichabod.”

“I wasn’t really counting on it, Mr. Cogito, sir. I reckon I just didn’t care for the alternative.”

“Point taken.”

“Looks like the crashing wall of snow has caught the back end of our pursuers.”

“Lord Bar’Bazaul’s troops stumble before the tundric tidal tsunami.”

“Yessir, it
is
like a big ol’ wave, ain’t it? It reminds me of the last edge of a wave, playing itself out along a beach. The spent breaker pushes a foamy froth before it, then withdraws, leaving a bubbly trail back to the ocean. Only this wave does not subside back into the ocean. This onrushing explosion of snow and ice continues to push and crush and pick up more rubbish to play with, adding trees, rocks, boulders, and hundreds of monkey monsters to its foamy lather flotsam.”

“Your wave soars hundreds of feet into the air above and behind us! We are presented with a continually exploding wall of ice and snow in a quickly closing pursuit.”

“Gee, whiz, I sure am sorry to have gotten you into this, Mr. Cogito, sir.”

“Ha, ha, think nothing of it, Ichabod! I would not have traded the experience of the past few days for another hundred years of existence! To have known friendship, makes the sacrifice worthwhile. I am blessed!”

“Golly, you’re right, Mr. Cogito, I agree. You are the best pal a guy could hope for.”

“Roof! Roof!”

“Ha, ha! See, Bolt thinks so, too!”

“Sayonara, Mr. Temperance.”

“Domo Arigato, Mr. Cogito.”

“
Yipe!
” cries Mr. Bolt as we are viciously slammed into and helplessly swept away by a hundred million tons of Alaskan hurt.