The Slug Rebellion

by Matthew Pelly

  Chapter 2 - Contrary to popular belief

  The Human

  One Sunday a few weeks after that, just any other ordinary Sunday, after I'd gotten out of bed and appreciated the clouds (this time they were wispy, with the Sun behind them giving a bright glow), Matthew and I were walking along the school yard, he holding his books close to his side.

  We walked, discussing why the consciousness of a person was in their head; that is, why when someone thinks about the very core of their consciousness, they imagine it inside their head. Think about it.

  "No way!" he protested at me. "People only believe themselves in their head because that's the viewpoint from their eyes."

  "I still think it's because that's where the brain resides."

  "I still think you're wrong. If you had eyes on your hand, that's where you'd imagine yourself."

  "How would you know that?"

  "Trust me."

  And so our walk throughout the school yard progressed like this (I didn't yet trust him on that one - I highly doubt that he'd ever had the experience of having eyes on his hand), until we reached the courtyard next to the library. Suddenly, with no obvious explanation, he just stopped walking, staring up at the sky. As he ignored my remarks, I followed his gaze to see a small, moving shape, probably a bird or a plane.

  He'd never abruptly done something like that before, but he could be so eccentric at times - something I rather liked - that I just patiently waited for it to end. But it didn't seem to end, especially when he suddenly dropped all of his books all over the ground, and sprinted off into the courtyard.

  Astonished at his sudden lack of respect for his learning implements, I ran after him calling, "Matt! Come back!"

  He reached the spot where the guy who’s punched him the other week and one of his friends were walking, probably laughing about the beating he sustained the other day. Then Matthew did something you never do to the people who can beat you up, especially when one of them faintly resembles a battle tank.

  He absolutely rammed into his former assailant at top speed, sending him flying across the yard, a feat I would have believed impossible for the heavy-set student. Taking a deep breath, and drawing back his arms, he then shoved the friend with what appeared to be all his might, also sending her sailing.

  By now, this obviously attracted much unwanted attention. Matthew didn't seem concerned with that however, as he looked directly up again.

  This time when I looked too, I saw whatever he saw, and I don't think it was either a bird, a plane, or even a superhero. A dark, round patch, some kind of object in the sky. It was moving, steadily getting bigger as it slowly moved away from me... it was falling. A large, dark object high in the sky was falling towards the school. Matthew had seen it all the way back there, and jumped in to do... something.

  With just a glance at the sky, we both knew what was coming; the object was heading down somewhere in our vicinity. And not that my judgement of speed was any good, but it looked pretty fast. With a kick backwards, Matt propelled himself what would have been a great distance away... except there was a library behind him. His body slamming into it first, his head cracked up and smashed into the glass with a loud crack. The glass didn't shatter, but several large, lightning bolt cracks appeared where his head had made contact.

  A few seconds later, the object landed.

  It was round, it was metal, and it most definitely was unlike anything I'd ever seen. A perfect circle about one and a half metres in diameter and six centimetres thick, the object had no visible markings on it whatsoever, no writing or symbols of any kind to denote its purpose. It had four holes; three long ones around the edge, following the circumference of the circle, and the last, a hole in the middle. Little glass squares were lined around the edge, past the holes, and more were circled around the central hole. Apart from this there were no other features to this strange, unexplained item which just landed in our school.

  Its landing had caused a loud 'Thud', sending wind and dust flying in all directions around it. Luckily I was far enough away to not get blinded, because I don't think I had blinked yet.

  That was when Matt said something you wouldn't expect someone who'd just slammed their head into a glass pane to say. He looked up at the sky, rubbing the back of his head, and muttered to himself - I was probably the only one who heard it - "Thought that was closer. I am getting older."

  At that moment, the landed object made a whirring noise, and the little glass squares lit up. I thought it would've looked cooler if they all lit in sequence, racing around the object, but they all just lit their plain white light and whirred, nothing else.

  Of course, this thing didn't land in our school just to shine some tiny lights. In a second, everything metallic in the area got sucked onto the object, sticking to it where ever it had touched. It was some kind of giant magnet! Watches, jewellery (cheap stuff of course, but metal nonetheless), everything that could be magnetised was pulled in towards it. I could've sworn I heard the steel pole behind me groan, but that was probably my imagination.

  By now I was pretty sure that nothing else could surprise me, but I was wrong. Matthew was slowly backing away from the object, but he was still staring at the sky, or perhaps the clouds, so I followed his gaze and saw another blurry object. Who would he have to save this time?

  But this wasn't like the metal circle that had previously fallen. This one was a different shape. It was almost a... a human? Yes, a person, a person falling down towards us, about to be splattered on the ground. Perhaps some kind of skydiving stunt gone wrong?

  However, nothing had gone wrong here. As he approached us, the person (who I could now distinguish as a man) drastically slowed down, and got slower and slower, until he was literally hovering just slightly above the strange metal object. The lights on the object suddenly turned off, stopping the magnetic pull, and he thudded down on top of it.

  He looked up. And he was big. Taller than Matt, more heavily built than our previous enemy - who was now in a shocked silence along with everyone else - and although he didn't appear very muscular, what he did have looked extremely menacing. He just had the aura of 'mess with me and you're dead'. Because I could totally read another person's aura. His dark clothes and sickly hair looked evil enough, but looked strangely scarier with the placid, neutral expression on his face. Who was this guy?

  He stood up, fully erect, his a-bit-too-squarish head and features rapidly scanning the crowd. Stepping off the circular object, his eyes roamed in every direction until they settled on Matthew when he stepped forward. I didn't know what this guy wanted, but he sure did when he charged at my best friend pretty fast and without hesitation, looking like he wanted to attack him.

  Matt was in some kind of attack pose, however, and dodged him. He then slowly began to circle him, but the man just looked at him.

  "Come on, circle. That's what we do here", Matt told him, rather strangely.

  The man wouldn't budge, however, as he looked up and down Matthew, eyeing his opponent. Then, slowly, as if it caused him satisfaction for everyone to hear the metallic scratch, the man pulled a long, deadly-looking sword out from behind his back. Lord knows where it came from. He wielded it with one hand, positioned towards my friend.

  At this point, I would have probably fainted by now, but I was still in shock, and I could still watch. However, I was doing more than watching when the swordsman lunged at me. Before Matt could react, which was pretty fast, and before I could react, which was pretty slow, he was behind me, his sword pointed into my back. The first thing I thought was 'I suppose it's time for me to die'. Some part of me took note of how shock can make a person remain so calm, but the rest of me wasn't too fussed about it.

  When he didn't spear me from behind, I looked up at my friend. Matthew had this look, like he was about to eat the eyes of this guy who was holding me hostage, but he had a sword! No way anyone could beat that, and this guy looked like he could handle himself anyway. Compared to Matthew's small
frame, his chances of success were very high.

  A slice. I looked down. He had cut my arm. Not deep enough to cause any permanent damage or grisly scarring, but deep enough to draw blood and make me wince. That made Matt go over the edge, which a super-intelligent part of my brain guessed was the purpose of the cut.

  In an outburst of what I guessed was rage, he launched himself at the swordsman faster than what I would have believed possible. The man threw me aside, and extended his sword to meet Matthew's incoming body. All I could do was imagine myself whacking this guy in the head with something, but I didn't have an umbrella.

  The sword was pointed straight at the gut of Matt, its blade looking to pierce him. It did. He went straight through the sword, his body swallowing up the blade, its tip emerging out the other side. The man had won. Luckily (for me at least) it was short-lived. Matt's momentum kept him sliding down the shaft of the sword, his gaze no less livid or obsessed. Before the swordsman realised what was happening, or me for that matter, Matthew reached the handle, pulled back his right fist, and slammed it with impossible, otherworldly strength into his face. It was a punch that the guy who’d hit Matthew would’ve loved to have.

  Before the man could even blink - I hadn't actually seen him blink once yet, nor had his expression changed from the placid, neutral one it still wore - Matt's left fist was lined up, ready to deliver a follow-up blow. The guy let go of the sword to defend himself, so Matthew landed on his feet, losing no concentration. You'd think I'd be kind of alarmed at all that was happening, what with my best friend being stabbed with a massive sword right in front of me, but I was still in a state of shock I guess, and could only observe.

  They had a very strange close-quarters battle now. It was strange, almost like their limbs were separate entities, each with its own intelligence and plans, striving to assist the other in the battle. Matthew's left hand punched, but was caught by the enemy right hand. Matt's twisted around, seized control of that hand, whilst the right continued pummelling his face and fending off the man's left hand. Meanwhile, their legs and feet were engaged in similar tactics.

  This was all very confusing and fast, and I could only take so much in. Matt's left hand pulled the enemy's right hand out to the side, as far as he could stretch it. Then his right hand made a feign blow to the man's face, forcing his left to attempt to defend. Really, however, Matt's right hand pulled back and punched the guy's upper arm, just past the shoulder, so hard it looked like it would shatter the bone (not that I'd ever broken a bone). Instead of a 'Crack', though, it made that same metallic screeching sound that the sword had made. Like it too was made of metal. Remembering that for a split-second reminded me that Matthew was in this huge battle with a sword plunged all the way into his belly, but it was a bit too difficult to comprehend right now so I disregarded it.

  With his right arm and hand immobilised, the man was now at a disadvantage. His other hand arrived at the scene, but it was two-hands-on-one. Both of Matt's hands began slamming into his face, not breaking it, but denting it everywhere, like when you hit an empty soft drink can. Every now and then, the other hands would attempt to defend their master, but one was slow and uncoordinated, and the other no match. Somehow, while he was doing all this, and keeping the man's kicks at bay, Matthew managed to manoeuvre himself around his assailant, so he was now behind him.

  You'd think that he would be scared, or defeated, or at least feel pain, but the man's face looked exactly the same as it had when he first 'landed' - completely emotionless, albeit dented everywhere. It was freaky. But then again, what wasn't freaky today?

  At this point Matthew near climbed up the man's back. His hands continued to fight, and he struggled to writhe free, but Matt knew what he was doing and blocked every attack, stopped every escape attempt. I never knew he could actually fight like this. He could've beat the crap out of that guy he gotten hit by that day.

  Now he wrapped his arms around the swordsman's neck. With an exaggerated pulling and twisting of his arms and upper body, Matthew begun to yank on the man's head. After a few seconds of this, and with a terribly long and slow 'Screeeech' sound, his head came off. Yes, it came off. It just literally tore from his body! Matt had just ripped this guy's head off of his shoulders, severed rope-like tendons trailing behind.

  Once I had registered that my best friend had just decapitated some guy - luckily, I still seemed to be under the effects of shock - I began to really look. Those were no ordinary rope-like tendons. Firstly, they were not red, but... grey. Just a grey colour, lacking any sign of blood. Secondly, there was no blood at all. I would've thought that blood would now be squirting everywhere, but there was nothing. Not a single drop. Was this guy even human?

  With his head now detached from the rest of him, the guy was defeated. His body fell over, his head rolling off to the side, eyes open. Matt sighed with relief, walked up to me - with the large sword still protruding from his body - and asked if I was alright.

  Looking down at my miniscule cut, which had already stopped bleeding, I could only reply, "Uh-huh."

  "That's good", he responded, then looked at his own injuries. "Unbelievable", he muttered to himself, then positioned his hands around the handle. He looked like he was about to... yes, he was. With a low groan, he slowly pulled the blade out from himself, spilling blood everywhere.

  And here was another thing which boggled my already over-boggled mind; the blood that spilled out wasn't normal blood. It wasn't red, it was... purple. Purple blood, like some alien creature. And it wasn't like normal blood (not that I'd ever seen so much blood before), but was much, much thicker than I imagined it would be. This was starting to get freaky. Soon, the sword was completely removed, and clattered to the ground. I, and everyone else, continued to stare as Matt stood up.

  "Well", he began, his eyes scanning the crowd. "It's amazing what they can do with special effects these days, huh?"

  That wasn't going to fly. "What the hell was that?" someone shouted, amidst the whimpering and sobbing. I mean, despite the freakiness, someone had just been murdered in front of us!

  Matthew picked up the body, and the head, of the... thing, and started dragging it away. "Can't just leave it here", he offered, as if that would be a sufficient explanation.

  "What was that?" I asked him in a low voice, hoping that he would perhaps tell only me.

  "What was what?"

  "What you just did."

  "What did I just do?"

  "You know what."

  "Yes, I do. I took a breath, my heart pumped some blood around my body, I continued digesting my breakfast..."

  "Cut the crap. Who was that guy, and why did he attack you and why does he have no blood? And why is your blood... purple and how did you survive a sword straight through the body?"

  "I'm not sure which to answer first, so I'll take the initiative and answer none."

  "Come on!" I was getting frustrated now. Why wouldn't he tell me? He has to know that I can keep secrets, so that can't be it. I decided to try whining; "Tell meee!".

  "OK. Later. Just let me do some stuff first."

  "Fine, but you owe me an explanation."

  "Fine."

  I would hold him to that.

  The Slug

  Now I have a problem; everyone, including Ethan, wants to know what just happened. I don't even know what just happened! I had to find a way to get out of this. But, more importantly, I had to find out where they came from, how they found me! This is not good. Not good at all. I have to get out of here, get away from the questions; I need time to think about this.

  But Ethan was whining at me: 'Tell meee!'

  First things first; I had to get Ethan off my back. 'OK. Later. Just let me do some stuff first.'

  'Fine, but you owe me an explanation.'

  'Fine.'

  A small lie. It wouldn't hurt. Actually, maybe it would. At first. But after a while, he would forget, everyone would; that's what happens to people. Then everything will return to nor
mal. Unless, of course, they come back. They've finally found me after all this time. Not my people! My own people haven't found me, but they did! It doesn't matter. For now, I will just ride things as they go, see what happens. And hope for the best.

  But now the second thing: I had to dispose of this body. I couldn't just leave it lying around. Some technician, or someone how knows what they're doing, might find it. They would ask questions, people would point at me! Interrogations, magnetic body scans... eventually the truth! I cannot let that happen!

  So, the disposal of this decapitated body is of vital importance. Now to find out where to put it. At home... no. Near home... maybe. In some shrubs, in the middle of nowhere. Yes, perfect for a temporary solution, no one would look there for a while.

  I dragged the hunk of steel and metal out of the school, ignoring all the glares I got from the other students. I would have to lay low for a while, wait until everyone gets over it. That's OK, hiding is my specialty. Hopefully it won't take too long.

  Now about Ethan; I had to decide whether or not to tell him the truth. I suppose he deserves it; he's been a very good friend for a while, and I don't want to lose him. He alone has made my life here bearable. But I can use that against him: he's such a good friend, in fact, that he will forgive me if I don't tell him the truth. This is bad, but something that must be done. I can't risk myself for anyone. Unfortunately for him, Ethan is a part of that anyone. Oh, he will hate me at first, I suppose, but he'll get over it. Eventually.

  Besides, I have more pressing concerns right now. Like how to make sure this doesn't happen again. I definitely won't be able to get away with it if it does.

  The Human

  The next Saturday, Matthew arrived at school. I was waiting for him at the gates, ready to ambush him. I hadn't seen him all week; he just hadn't showed up to the school at our usual time on the weekdays. He didn't even come for breakfast. Unfortunately for him, that just gave me a whole five days with nothing to do but think about what happened. I knew he was trying to get out of his promise to explain, but he'd promised an explanation, and I intended to collect. So now, I was ready to pounce, and to demand answers.

  "Hey", he said, as if nothing had happened.

  I couldn't think of how to start, so I just began with "Hey."

  "Sooo... Did you do your homework?"

  "Don't act dumb with me."

  "What?"

  "You know what." He was beginning to frustrate me again. "You promised you'd tell me what happened last Sunday."

  "Well, if you recall, I didn't specifically promise anything."

  "You said you would tell me later."

  "And I will. However, you neglected to ask me to specify when later was, so I naturally assumed it was in a hundred years. I'll tell you then."

  I couldn't believe it. He was actually slightly smiling as well. "Are you serious?", I asked in astonishment.

  "Absolutely."

  "You don't trust me enough to tell me?"

  Now he gave me a painful, guilty look. "It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that to tell you would be a huge... risk. A great mistake on my part, one which may be my last."

  "It's that serious, huh?"

  "Yes."

  Now I wasn't sure whether he was telling the truth or not, but he sounded sincere enough. I internally sighed, knowing that I'd have to drop it; I wasn't willing to do anything to compromise our friendship. He was all I had. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't guilt-trip him about it. So I concluded: "Fine. I won't nag you anymore, because unlike you, I'm a good friend and I can trust my good friends and give them my secrets. So OK, don't tell me, but keep in mind that if I ever had a secret, I'd tell you." I'd had my stint, and was prepared to leave it at that; perhaps in a few years' time, he'd tell me. I suppose I could wait.

  As I waited for some replying comment from Matt, I peeked over and saw him looking down, and I fancied that he was ashamed. And so he damn should be.

  Later on that day, somehow, I'd already almost gotten over the whole thing, or, at least, I had stopped thinking about it. Yep, I had pretty much forgiven Matt. He had been my best friend for a while now - my only friend, in fact - and I didn't want something like this to change that. Even though this was something huge. He did kind of... murder someone in our school yard.

  Everyone else seems to have forgotten it too; like they all acted like it never happened. There's evidence of distorting things to fit your perception of reality for you. Or, perhaps they were frightened of what Matthew would do if they confronted him. Nothing was reported to the police or any other kind of authority, not even by the volunteer teachers or principal. They couldn't because there was no evidence; mysteriously, over the week, all traces of strange purple and grey blood had disappeared. Even the circular magnet the guy had arrived in was gone. We all suspected it was Matthew, but couldn't prove it, and now the whole school was kind of scared of him. Which made them kind of scared of me by affiliation. That big, intimidating student would never even look at me again.

  So, we were walking away from class for lunch time (this was a bring-your-own lunch, so I had nothing), just after I'd gotten a scolding by my teacher for not doing my homework. Well, I was kind of preoccupied contemplating the murdering tendencies of my best friend. Matthew and I were discussing whether or not a person can be beaten half to death. Unfortunately for the conversation, we both agreed that it is impossible to be half dead, and that you are either dead or alive, never in between. Just at the conclusion of my statement that only zombies are truly half dead, I saw Matt looking up ahead of us.

  Looking too, I saw some young-ish adults standing at the end of the school-yard. There were six of them, four men and two women. One of the men - the biggest one - was standing at the front, a neutral expression on his face. That brought back bad memories. For a second, I imagined Matthew having to take all six of them on, and shuddered. Despite his amazing strength given his appearance, I doubted he could defeat so many.

  "I'll have to get back to you on that one", Matt was saying to me, while handing me his books to hold. I took them, and watched him carefully. He didn't seem worried.

  By now, the newcomers had caught the attention of the whole school. Matthew started slowly walking up to the lead man, unsure at first, but soon confident. By the time he reached him, almost jogging, he had rolled up his sleeve to his elbow. This was one of the very rare times when I saw some of Matt's bare skin. You'd think it would be stark white, but it was a normal pink skin colour.

  The man had also rolled up his sleeve. As soon as Matt was in range, they grasped arms in a handshake that extended all the way up their bare forearms, and leaned slightly forward. Their arms didn't shake however, they just remained still. It was kind of weird, but I had been weirded out enough that it didn't faze me. I got closer, and begun to study these newcomers.

  The lead man looked about twenty-five to thirty years old, his arms muscular, his body... also muscular. Unlike the last invader of our school, this man didn't appear threatening at all. Which isn't to say he didn't seem to be powerful; his whole presence screamed out, 'I am powerful'. He just appeared in control of everything, standing so still it was kind of freaky. His friends were all the same, including the women. Muscular, but in control. They just stood there, perfectly still and silent, watching the two in their handshake-embrace.

  Of course, this whole perception of mine could just be because these people hadn't attacked us yet, so I viewed them as not as threatening as the one that did. You never really know what your brain's doing back there.

  After several minutes of this, it was just getting plain awkward. They'd been standing the whole time with their eyes closed. The other five waited patiently, not uttering anything to each other, at least from what I could see. The watching student body, in contrast, was bored and restless. Rumours circulated around the crowds on who these people might be, memories of last Sunday were reawakened. At least these people looked friendly; well, not exactly, but they hadn't
attacked nor produced a weapon designed with death in mind yet which made them appear friendly in comparison.

  I looked at Matthew and the man, and tried to decide who would win in a fight. Matt's comparatively slight frame and skinny arms seemed no match for this guy, but I'd seen him defeat that last man who'd arrived via a strange, magnetic object. I'd never underestimate him again.

  After a few more minutes of more nothing, they let go of each other. The shuffling feet and cautious chewing of food from the crowd stopped; something was about to happen. As I was the closest one, apart from the other strangers, I think I was the only one who heard Matt mutter: "It's nice to be with you again, old friend."

  "It is nice to be with you again, older friend", the man repeated, somewhat uncertainly. Then he motioned towards his cohorts. Matthew strolled up to them confidently, and walked in a line in front of them, pausing briefly at each one to grasp their arm. I noticed now that the five of them had linked all of their hands together, but if it was for a purpose, I had no idea. As he touched each of them, their faces changed slightly, but in a small way I also couldn't decipher. Was it some pathetic attempt at smiling? As far as I was concerned though, any change in facial expression was a good sign.

  Once he was done with them, Matthew returned to the leader of the group. "So, what do you think?" he asked casually. As to what he was referring to, my brain was stumped.

  "It is strange", the leader spoke, more confident than before. "This... speech, these expressions. They will take some getting used to."

  "They will indeed", Matt replied in an understanding tone.

  Unfortunately for me, I continued to have no idea what was going on. So, these guys were from a different country? Were they our friends now? Matt's not going to have to rip their heads off, assuming he could? And then I realised that he was probably not going to explain anything to me again, and there was nothing I could do about it. I gave a huff of defeat at my perpetual ignorance about these things.

  This caught the attention of the leader, who looked over to me, standing by myself and closest to them. He asked, while looking at me, "Who is this?"

  "Ahh", Matt said, walking over to me. "This is my friend. His name is Ethan. Say hello, Ethan."

  "I'm not a dog you know. Hello."

  The leader actually faintly smiled. This display of any kind of emotion confirmed that he was a friendly; I'd still been comparing him to the grey guy. "Hello, Ethan", he replied.

  However, I was still very, understandably, confused. "Matt?" I asked in a small voice, even though I probably sounded a bit weak. "Now will you please tell me what's going on?"

  "Now, I will tell everyone what's going on." He started to look up at the clouds, stopped himself, and proceeded in a loud voice: "Hello everyone. I'm sure you're all wondering what the heck is going on. I know I would be. At least I think so, I can't really know for sure as I'm not... Never mind. The point is, you all probably want to know what happened last Sunday, what with that man who... attacked me."

  This was followed by a slight change in expression in the leader. The other five remained emotionless. But they were with the leader, so they must be on our side.

  "Damn straight we do!" cried someone in the crowd.

  "And I will tell you now", Matthew continued. "Once I do tell you, you will undoubtedly understand why I couldn't tell you before. At least I hope. You see you have all been deceived. By who, you may ask? Well, by me."

  "Stop talking in circles, and get to the point", I complained.

  He gave me a dirty, playful look, while the leader gave me a confused look. He got that expression right, at least. Meanwhile, Matthew straightened up, facing the bulk of the audience. The group of six all watched attentively. Then, in an amused voice, Matthew, my best friend for quite a number of years now, announced to the crowd: "Dear fellow humans. I regret to inform you that, contrary to popular belief, I am indeed not human."