by T L Barrett
L. P. Kahn managed to extract himself, his face sweaty and red from exertion.
“Barry and Glen! It iz good to see you, my friends,” Kahn said with a great smile.
“You’re not dead? We saw a car hit you at high speed,” Barry said.
“I am not dead, and vat does not kill one, makes one stronger,” he shouted.
“Lower your voice, dude!” Glen whispered.
“Yes, of course, I am just so excited. You zee, I have been invigorated with new purpose. That hit from the car shocked some sense into me. I have you to thank for zat, my friends. Did you know that a secret race of reptilian overlords are controlling ze world economies? It is terrible. I always thought I was doing ze right thing by killing all ze monsters, and I did some good, but when I got to thinking about it, vat did I really do to make a difference—”
“Look, L. P., we are wicked happy for you for finding your purpose and all, but could you maybe let us out of here? That is why you came, right?” Barry said.
“Well, yes, but once I was here, I was glad that I keep dangerous explosives with me at all times. Did you know that this secret army base, zis Area 51, is controlled by the very reptilian fiends that feast on ze babies of ze innocent?” Kahn held up a bandolier of explosives.
“Hey, that’s great Kahn, but if you could just wait until Glen and I—”
“Me too!” the alien said from across the cell block.
“…and him get out. You can help us, and then you let them have it, all right?”
Kahn set them free with some kind of device he held against the electronic locking devices.
“Where did you get that?” Glen asked as he left the cell.
“My father is filthy rich. It turns out he iz not one of ze reptiles, and he made it hissing and scratching to ze top of commerce. I am very proud of my papa!” Kahn beamed.
“Jesus, you’re a happy munchkin,” Glen said. “So, what now? How do we get out?”
“We go up and kill as many snakes as can be killed!” Kahn said.
“Everybody in, team?” Glen said and stooped with his palm out. Barry and the alien put their hands in his. Kahn looked at the hand for a moment and then added his own tiny one.
“Go team,” they shouted. They moved to the door.
“Bran,” the zombie shouted from his cell. Kahn turned and fired a single shot into the creature’s brain pan.
“Ve don’t want ze poor creature to suffer, unnecessarily, do we?” Kahn said with grim propriety.
“You know, Kahn—deep down, I think you’re a real sweetheart,” Barry said.
“Don’t tell anyone. I must protect my reputation,” Kahn said.
“Mum’s the word,” Barry said and led the way to freedom.
* * * *
Fifteen minutes, covered in bits of snake flesh and prosthetics the four of the escapees had made it to into the dusk of a Nevada night. Smoke rose up behind them. Sirens sounded all around.
Kahn slowed and tossed an explosive at the electrified fence. Everybody ducked and turned away. The explosion was intense.
As soon as the smoke cleared they ran to the new hole.
“Well, zis is where we must part, I am afraid,” Kahn said.
“What? No, dude. That place will be crawling with angry snakes,” Glen said.
“Zen zat is where I must be. Wherever there is a snake-man eating a baby, I’ll be there. Wherever there are hairy men forced to take swimming lessons—”
“They were drowning me, dude. You’re getting it wrong!” Glen said.
“I’ll be there. Don’t forget about me!” Kahn said. He reached up with both arms as if he wanted to be hugged. Barry paused and then stooped. The little man wrapped his arm about his neck.
“Okay, we had better get going…” Barry said. Kahn kissed his cheek and let him go.
Glen was already through the fence.
“Good-bye, sweet friends!” Kahn said and raised his gun to the sky and let off three shots. Barry waved and followed his friends.
“Dude, that was weird!” Glen panted.
“Tell me about it!” Barry said.
* * * *
Barry, Glen, and the alien skirted the cliff side that dropped down to the open land below. They wanted to stay out of sight as much as they could. They expected any moment for someone to find them.
“I have contacted my people telepathically, now that we are a distance from the jamming devices. They have sent a rescue vehicle for our escape. You are both welcome to come with me back to space. I promise you wonders you have never imagined!” the little alien said. Barry didn’t think the alien could smile, but he thought that the alien was, inside, anyway.
“I can go to the Sasquatch home world?” Glen asked.
“Yes, I am sure with a letter of reference from my superiors something can be arranged,” the alien said.
“I can’t believe this is happening!” Glen said.
“I’m not sure it is,” Barry said.
“We have to hurry, the ship is descending right over there,” the alien screamed. He took off at a run. Glen ran to catch up.
Barry ran and grabbed Glen.
“Barry, let me go! I have to return to the home world!” Glen said.
“Glen, do you see a ship? Because I sure as hell don’t,” Barry yelled.
“No, but maybe it’s cloaked. Maybe we just have to have faith,” Glen said.
They watched as the little creature ran, sporadically waving and jumping the air in joy. He ran to the edge of the cliff and then hurled himself off.
He fell down out of sight.
Barry and Glen ran over and peered into the moonlit ravine below.
The tiny creature’s head was smashed open like an egg on the rocks below. His pale arms were contorted at unnatural angles.
“Jesus, that sucks,” Glen said and stood up. They started walking at a quick pace down the cliff’s gradual incline.
“Do you think that he was just a crazy goblin?” Glen asked. “He never came from space? He must have made all that crazy crap up?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, he did come from space, but he was just crazy from all those years in prison. Maybe, I don’t know.”
“Shit, I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Glen said.
“What do you want to believe?” Barry asked. Glen was quiet for some time and then he turned and smiled at his friend.
“I want to believe that we are going to make it to San Diego in time for Comic-con,” he said.
“Then, my friend, we must be moving on,” Barry said and took off across the desert night landscape.
Barry let out a little yawp of freedom and sprinted to follow.
Chapter Fifteen
Comic-Con or Bust!
Glen sat down on a rock and bent over.
“I think I’m going to puke!” Glen moaned. “I can’t run anymore. I just can’t.”
“Okay, I guess we can rest,” Barry said. “I haven’t heard any choppers or anything. That’s weird, right? How come no one bothered to come after us?” He looked back at the miles they just run.
“They’re probably got their hands full dealing with the munchkin. He’s a one man killing machine. If Napoleon and the terminator had a baby, that’s what you’d get,” Glen said.
The wind shifted.
“I smell gasoline, and people ahead. We should keep moving,” Barry said.
“For what reason? You have prison clothes on, and I’m a Sasquatch. I don’t know how it will serve us to get locked up again, or be run down by an angry mob of religious psychos.”
“I also smell beer,” Barry said.
“Right, let’s get going,” Glen said, stood and strode at a healthy pace to the south.
* * * *
Glen and Barry came upon a lonely stretch of highway. Directly in front of them, on their side of the road was a rectangular roadhouse with tons of motorcycles parked in the side parking lot.
Barry headed for the lot.
&nbs
p; “Dude, slow up. Those are some bad customers in there. That’s a gang headquarters. They’ll eat you alive.”
“Maybe not. We don’t like it when people judge us on the way we look, do we? Besides, a lot of them are probably on the wrong side of the law a lot, so maybe they’ll see these orange duds, and take me in as a comrade in arms,” Barry said.
“All right, I’m going to be right out back. You need to howl if things get out of hand.”
“I’m sure everything will be fine. I think I’ve figured out where we are. We’re just eight or nine hours driving from San Diego. Comic-Con starts tomorrow. We will be there, right?”
“Yeah, just be careful,” Glen said quietly.
Barry rounded the biker club house and went to the door. He took a deep breath, tried to set his jaw in a manly way and opened the door.
The sounds of laughing, talking and rock music assailed him. The smell of tobacco, cannabis and sweaty leather filled him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust and he just stood there peering about.
The music stopped.
“Uh…hi!” Barry said and gave a little wave.
A biker at the bar turned around. The biker had one large eye in the middle of his forehead. A gargoyle, leaning over a woman with horns and huge prosthetic breasts, stopped talking and turned.
Ogres, kobolds, werewolves, and many other monsters stared. Barry shifted. He knew he should just sprout out hair, but once again, he just didn’t feel it in him.
The huge Ogre from behind the bar, came around and walked toward him. Barry swallowed and waited for the pain.
The Ogre got down on one knee in front of Barry and bowed low. Everywhere, the folk in the clubhouse bowed their heads in deference. The Ogre got up walked to Barry and wrapped him in a huge crushing hug.
Everyone was clapping, and howling, and thundering their mugs against tables.
“Barry Trudeau, the flying folk are honored to have you with us!” A great cheer broke open and thundered down the walls.
Glen burst through the door and looked around with fists raised. Everything got quiet and then the crowd roared again their approval.
Glen gaped in surprise and awe as he was taken by the arm and led to a huge seat of honor and a flagon of draft beer was placed in his hand.
The ogre, whose name was Tharn Axlebreaker, announced that Glen and Barry’s coming had been prophesized by their prophet, Odolpho. Odolpho was the gargoyle with a do-rag on his head and a penchant for tarot card reading.
“And you guys didn’t believe me!” The gargoyle laughed.
“No, we really didn’t, we really didn’t!” A drunk troll laughed and pounded down more drinks.
“Let us remember folks,” Thorn thundered, “it was also prophesized that the coming of the mighty two would mean that the flying folks would be called upon to perform a sacred duty, one that will be woven into the fabric of the epic. My lords—”
“That’s really not necessary,” Barry said.
“Great ones,” Tharn began.
“You can call us Barry and Glen, really,” Barry said.
“Barry and Glen, will you honor us by asking for our service in however it may be needed?”
“Well, we could really use some clothes and some food,” Barry said.
“More beer, too!” Glen said as he had already drained his flaggon. A crowd of hearty revelers cheered.
“I promised my friend here that I would get him to comic-con in San Diego. It starts tomorrow, if you guys could get us there, I would totally be indebted to you guys,” Barry said.
“No, Barry Trudeau, it is all the folk that will eternally be indebted to you. We shall set off before the sun rises, but first, we must celebrate!”
And Celebrate they did. The folk toasted their guests of honor over and over again. Songs were sung; introductions were made. Barry and Glen enjoyed signing their names on a lot of cleavage.
Barry and Glen told their story, alternating the telling, correcting each other. Soon everybody was laughing and spell bound by the tales of their adventures.
“Since you just got out of prison, honey”, the horned woman said as she sauntered over with a guitar, “perhaps you wouldn’t mind playing us a little blues.”
Barry said that he wouldn’t mind at all, and the succubus kissed his cheek. The crowd went mad with approval. Barry started in a rendition of Fulsome Prison Blues. Glen kept time on the keg someone had propped between his legs.
Afterward they took a few requests, and rounded out the little set with CCR’s Midnight Special. Everyone joined in.
While everyone thundered their applause, Glen reached over and threw his arms around Barry. Glen wept openly.
“We’re really going to make it ain’t we, buddy?”
Barry hugged his old friend and nodded.
The men were outfitted with leather outfits: a T-shirt of himself from his television spot, a studded leather coat and pants for Barry; a leather vest and studded leather briefs and chaps for Glen.
They were led upstairs and put to bed for a few hours to get ready for the big day ahead.
* * * *
Glen and Barry would never forget the final leg of their journey. They were roused well before dawn and heralded out to the bike lot.
Tharn came from the shed driving an enormous Harley. He pulled up short, killed the engine and got off.
“Glen, I’d be honored if you would ride my hog to Comic-Con!” Those assembled cheered. Glen thanked the man and got on. A trim classic Indian bike was brought before Barry. Then, in a great pack of twenty bikes, the flying folks escorted them down Route 95.
For the first time in recorded history, folk drove the highway that day, undisguised, proud and open. They waved at shocked drivers and families as they thundered down the open road. They were surprised how quickly the shock turned to friendly smiles on many of the peoples’ faces.
Before long, those smiling faces inspired Barry to transform into a werewolf. He howled with delight and decided that if they didn’t give him the bike, he would have to come up with the money to buy one for himself and soon.
* * * *
Just after noon, the Flying Folk had Barry and Glen at the top of the walk leading across the tracks to the greatest convention of the year. The Flying Folk took the bikes back. Glen had a hard time letting go of his. After the Folk drove off, Barry and Glen gave each other a look and turned to the teeming crowd.
People weren’t looking at them. A few were, but most were gaping at Darth Vader or Predator. Barry and Glen got another new experience. They walked in the crowd of people, feeling almost totally anonymous.
Well, almost totally anonymous. As they were waiting to cross the transit tracks, a young man turned and said:
“Dude, that is the most righteous Barry Trudeau costume I have ever seen!”
“It’s really happening!” Glen said.
“Yep, buddy, it sure is,” Barry said. Then, like all the others, they got into line.
Chapter Sixteen
The Nerdocolypse
“Look, if we want to enjoy ourselves, I think we should play it low profile, okay?” Barry said as they moved to enter comic-con. I’ll stay in my glasses and in human form, and you just tell people that you tried your darnedest to be Chewbacca.”
“All right, that’s cool, maybe I can stand beside some of these ladies dressed in Princess Leia slave costumes. Rowr! There are just so many. I can’t look at all of them!” Barry laughed.
All of a sudden, they were stopped just inside the convention by a little frail bald boy. His parents and a sister hung back slightly, concern etched onto their faces.
“Excuse me,” the boy, who was probably ten, asked. “I was wondering if you were the real Glen. I mean, Glen the Sasquatch superhero.”
Glen’s mouth fell open. He looked at Barry. Barry pushed his sunglasses up and looked at the parents.
“I’m sorry, our son Tyler is such a huge fan of the Hairy Heroes.” Tyler’s mother said. “H
e asked to come here for his special trip. He kept telling us that he’d meet the real ones, here. That’s a great costume. It looks just like the newspaper photographs.”
“No, you’re the real Hairy Heroes aren’t you? You fought beside the Furies? I know they are, mom,” Tyler said.
“Honey, these gentlemen came to enjoy the day, too. We don’t want to keep them.”
“That’s all right, Ma’am,” Glen said and got down on one knee. “You know what kid? You are right. I’m the real Glen, and this is the real Barry. We’re the Hairy Heroes.” The boy’s eyes lit with joy. Glen blinked back a tear and grinned. Tyler threw his arms around Glen’s neck.
“That’s very kind of you, sir,” the father said.
“No, it’s totally true, I’m not fu—I’m not kidding. Show them Barry.”
Barry shook his head a little.
“Show–them–Barry,” Glen said. Barry let his wolf out. Tyler’s mother squealed and fell against her husband. Then everyone laughed. Tyler walked over and patted Barry’s hairy arm. Barry reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair, and then just put his arm around the boy’s shoulder.
“I think Tyler here has earned a prize for being the first to spot the real hairy heroes. What do you say, Glen?” Barry said, looking up at his friend, who was really having a hard time keeping back the tears.
“Yeah, buddy, I think that’s a definite, yes,” Glen said. He reached down and gently lifted Tyler onto his shoulders.
“I can see the whole convention from up here, Mom!” Tyler yelled. People were starting to take notice. Cameras flashed all around. Barry saw a camera crew out of the corner of his eye approaching.
“You just tell me if you spot any Power Girl impersonators from up there, all right kid?” Glen asked. “Cause if you do, we are so there!”
* * * *
Barry stood and idly watched two Orion slave girls pose for pictures. He was lost in thought about the phone number that he had crumpled up and thrown away before he was taken into custody. He remembered that moment like a knife wound. He had felt like he was casting away his one lifeline to his future, but he had done it so that hopefully, the love of his life could have hers.