Collateral Damage
A/N#1: You know the drill, I don't own Zim or any other IZ characters that may pop up in here. I only own Jendai Kaalae and Merana Sali. They're mine. Steal them and I'll do doom things to you... There's gonna be some darkness and cussin in here. You have been warned.
A/N#2: I dunno if anyone's heard of the movie with the SAME TITLE as this fic. I made this up BEFORE I heard of the stupid movie. So, none of "you stole this or that." Ugh, I talk to much. Here's the blasted story already.
Chapter One:
GIR, a slush-o, and a migraine
The clock was ticking. Ticking away wasted seconds, minutes, hours, days and eventually years. Humankind was a slave to the time. Planning every waking minute around combinations of hours and minutes. Nothing else dominated life so. The sacred clock told humans when to sleep, to eat, to play, to go to skool or work... it practically told them how to live. They were slaves already; slaves to some blasted invention.
Clocks would be one of the first things he would do away with once he conquered this filthy planet.
Invader Zim boredly drummed his pencil against the desktop, as if the tapping would hasten the flow of time in his favor. There was nothing he could do, "brilliant" as he was, to dispose of time permanently. It mainly just disgusted him how devoted the humans were to the clock. Of course, his race had their own time-telling devices. They just weren't so pathetic about the whole thing. All other ideas to pass the time exhausted, he began plotting. Plans clicked into place and he mentally acted them out, smiling evilly as he watched. The worthy ones were filed away until he reached his lab to turn the simple beginnings into great plots that may even come close to working.
Too soon his mind was stated with plans for the day, leaving Zim wondering what to do next. Skool was incredibly easy. The Invader knew everything already. He relaxed, sinking lower in his seat. As Ms. Bitters droned on and on about doom, he found himself slowly drifting off. Last night had been a late one down in the lab. GIR kept interrupting his work, which was nothing new. In fact, the incident occurred so often, Zim was beginning to question whether or not GIR truly was the advanced model he was said to be. He figured he had better not question the Tallest, but the issue kept coming up.
Something hit him in the head. His eyes flicked open, glaring around the classroom. They came to rest on his nemesis. The vile, filthy human, Dib... The boy was whistling innocently and pretending to be listening intently to the teacher. Zim knew better. He glanced down, wanting to know what it was that had hit him. A paper airplane lay crumpled by his foot. He picked it up, gently unfolding the plane's damaged wings. Ever since arriving on this miserable rock called Earth, Zim had held a fondness for the delicate paper crafts. Dib's design of the small thing badly hindered its maneuverability and potential speed. The Irken glared. Another mess to clean up. At least this one wasn't as bad as GIR's... Oh well, he thought. He had nothing better to do at the moment. He unfolded the entire thing, smoothing out the obvious errors with deft passes of his gloved hands. But it was when the thing was finally completely unfolded, the true intent of the alluring craft was revealed.
It was another insane sketch of Zim being experimented on by humans while Dib cackled in the background, cradling yet another strange invention.
He ignored the pathetic drawing and went back to re-creating the paper plane.
~ ~ ~
"Mer, I've found another one."
"...You're sure?"
"Of course. Have I ever steered you wrong?"
"Need I remind you about LA, Jendai?"
"That was different, I'd just healed. You can't pin that one on me. It was the pain talking, not me."
"Fine. Whatever you say. Where's this one, then? In a jar of peanut butter?"
"Oh ha-ha. You want me to play around or the truth?"
"Truth, Kaalae, truth."
"Here."
"Here as in... where?"
"Here as in... this city."
"You're sure?"
"One-hundred percent sure. I've seen him wandering around. They're hard to miss, those green kids."
"He stands out that bad?"
"Worse."
"Oh Gods... Okay, I'll believe you. Go see what you can find out about the poor wretch and bring him to me ASAP."
"Aren't you coming?"
"No, there's too much I need to do with the last one you brought me."
"All right. Good luck Merana."
"You too, Jendai."
~ ~ ~
"GIR! I'm home!" Zim stood beside the front door, ignoring the robo-parents and half-expecting the odd little robot to appear with some new problem or squirrel sighting. When it failed to appear, he could only assume it was down in his lab watching what the two of them had dubbed "the Scary Monkey Show." He never understood why GIR loved it. The only thing that ever moved on that show were the flies that buzzed around its half-dead star. Maybe GIR had gone to get a slush-o... That possibility was even more likely, Zim observed, moving into the center of the room. The vase of human money they had collected in the streets was lying on the couch, shiny coins spilled all over the pillows. They looked picked over. GIR MUST have gone to get one of those disgusting chocolate-bubblegum slush-os! It was practically addicted to the nauseating things.
His robot-slave's disappearance was of no consequence. GIR would return shortly. It always did. Providing it still remembered the way back...
Zim shrugged, making for the couch. Mentally, he willed the slender mechanical legs out of his back pod. They complied, pulling their owner up onto the couch before retreating back to the place where they came. It was only now that Zim removed part of his disguise. The wig slid easily off, falling into his hands only to be cast aside onto the pile of coins laying beside him. His thin, black antennae slowly uncurled from their cramped position against his head. They itched horribly. The alien obliged the pair with careful scratches up and down their frail-looking black lengths. He could have just sat there until dark, massaging the stiff appendages.
But there was far too much work to do down in the lab. Somewhat reluctantly, he jumped off the couch, heading into the kitchen. Once there, he climbed on top of the toilet and flushed himself down to the lab.
By midnight, GIR still had not returned. With a groan of annoyance, Zim donned his disguise once more and set out to find the wayward robot. "How much should I bet myself that it's out dancing with some huuuumans?" Zim wondered aloud. He hated walking around this planet at night; albeit the fact that it wasn't too far to the 24/7 convenience store where GIR bought its slush-os.
In the dark, there was always a nagging feeling you were being watched by the something lurking in the shadows. His boots tapped noisily against the pavement. But now the noise was reassuring rather than the annoyance it usually was. Now, it was the only noise in the infinite darkness broken only by pools of flickering fluorescent lights. "It must be later than I thought," Zim muttered to calm himself. He was feeling jumpy. "It's better this way. Not so many stinky, smelly, stink people... things around. How long was I in the lab? Suppose it doesn't matter... I got a lot of work done though... maybe the lazer weasels will finally ripen..." Zim realized he'd been babbling.
The tiny Invader took a deep breath, trying to remain calm enough to make it to the store. He could see the mini-mart up ahead, lights gleaming dully against the darkness. He sighed with relief. Already, he could feel the fear creeping up on him, ready to pull him down into a churning sea of panic and terror. The tapping of his boots was suddenly echoed. Zim froze. Then kicked into a run. The odd echo followed for a few feet, changing its pace to one opposite Zim's. He fought down panic as he fled the thing shadowing him. What could it be? he wondered fleetingly. Just as suddenly as it began, the echo stopped. He cringed, half-expecting the thing to leap on him and tear him to bits while he cowered without protection. But nothing happened. Nervous, Zim peered out from behind his hands. There was nothing there. Boldness overcame whatever confusion that surfaced as the Irken marched towards the island of light that was the store. "I shall defeat this planet yet!" he laughed.
He marched into under the overhang where human vehicles pulled up to refuel. It stank, as usual. Zim was beginning to wonder whether or not any place on this sorry rock didn't reek horribly. A gas attendant took a break from fueling up a rusty pick-up truck to eye him with a strange look as the small, green figure paused for breath just outside the store's glass door. His stare angered Zim. "Look away at your precious fuel, filthy huuuman!" he snapped. "Do not foul Zim with your... disgusting..." He halted a moment, trying to figure out what the man was holding. "...fuel collecting... thing!" Proud of himself once more, he strutted through the door to locate GIR.
The interior of the mini-mart smelled too. Only not just of gasoline, but of week-old coffee and human sweat. Zim felt like gagging, but only screwed up his large eyes in distaste. Didn't humans ever clean anything? "GIR had better be here..." he muttered threateningly before striding towards the back of the store where the slush-o machine was kept. There were only two humans in the store at this hour; the half-asleep cashier and a lanky male human dressed in a bland white shirt, ripped blue jeans and a long coat that fell to his knees. A newspaper hid his face. Zim gave him a longer glance than he gave most humans. Most humans stared or pointed at him, but this one didn't even acknowledge his presence in the store. With a shrug, the Invader ignored him, heading back to the slush-o machine. Before he could even see it, a frantic squeaking sound was heard coming from the large machine's direction. Full of foreboding, he rounded the corner created by a rack of chips and another rack of cookies, and stared.
GIR was here all right. Here and thankfully still disguised as a dog. The dim-witted robot was jumping up and down in a futile attempt to reach the countertop where the machine sat. It uttered pitiful little squeaks every time it came down on the floor. It was a pathetic scene. For a moment, Zim just stared in disbelief. Wildly, he looked at the clock on the wall, then at GIR and back to the grimy clock. "I hesitate to ask," he began, striding forward. "but what are you doing, GIR?"
It stopped jumping instantly at the sound of its master's voice. GIR might have been stupid, but it knew who its master was, and that it was to obey Zim at all times. Without even bothering to face Zim, it chirruped, "I can't reach my slush-o, Master... So I was jumping to see if I could get taller by jumping for it. I've been jumping for a long time, Master, but it isn't working..."
"How long have you been jumping?"
"Ummm... since... since the biggy handy thingy on the twelve and the smally handy thingy on the three!"
"So," Zim folded his thin arms over his chest. "you've been jumping up and down for nine hours straight?"
GIR cocked its head to the side. "I doooon't knooooow..." it replied simply. All other thoughts abandoned, it returned to jumping and squeaking.
"Stop that at once GIR, and stand still!" The alien closed his eyes. GIR's squeaks were giving him a headache. "Now, if I get you a slush-o, will you keep absolutely silent for the rest of the night?"
It took GIR a while to think this over. Zim tapped his foot against the ground, waiting impatiently. "Ummm..." it said, thinking aloud. "Can I still watch the Scary Monkey Show?"
"Being silent does not mean you can't watch television, GIR." The robot opened its mouth to ask another question. "Nor does it mean," Zim cut it off. "you can't eat tuna and cupcakes, or play with bees or squirrels. It merely means you cannot make a single sound." He was getting exasperated with his robot.
GIR stopped jumping once again. "Can I sing the Doom Song?"
"No GIR!" Zim snapped, slapping his forehead. "You cannot sing the Doom Song while being silent! Now, do you want your slush-o or not?"
"I doooooo..."
With that matter somewhat settled, Zim climbed up on GIR's head. Their combined heights made it easy for the Irken to reach the cool machine and extract the frozen contents from the nozzle. It smelled awful. Looked awful too. A strange combination of brown and pink that made the chocolate-bubblegum flavor. Stifling both an imagined nausea and a real migraine, Zim handed the cup to his hyperactive robot. GIR began to jump again in its excitement, forgetting all about Zim's presence on its head. The Invader yelped, stomping on GIR's head to remind it he was still up there. GIR froze, allowing him to clamber down with as much dignity as he could muster. "I got chocolate bubblegum!" it squealed in joy.
"Yes, yes you did," Zim muttered. GIR's voice was aggravating his headache. He wanted nothing more than to lounge in his lab-his peaceful, GIR free lab-and maybe fly some paper airplanes before he fell asleep. "Come GIR. We must pay for your slush-o. It's time to go home." He grabbed GIR's leash, pulling it along behind him.
The lanky human was still there, reading his newspaper beside the coffee machine. He eyed the alien briefly before going back to the news stories about the latest crimes and movies that were to come out soon. "Aren't you out a little late?" he asked from behind the paper. His voice had a gentle, tenor ring to it, making it one of those voices stars and speakers always tried to achieve. It was those voices that you could listen to for hours, just listening to the pitches and tones rather than the actual words the person spoke. The cashier was already enthralled by it; in fact, she was practically drooling over the human. He took no notice of her, just kept on reading the paper.
"No, I'm not," Zim snapped, glaring. When he got no answer, he strode up to the register to pay for the slush-o. "Here, store slave," he growled, throwing five quarters onto the counter. "I assume this is enough to pay for the item."
"Mmm-hmm..." the cashier mumbled, still staring love-eyed at the human with the paper.
Zim stared at the pair curiously before exiting the store. What was that all about? He shrugged it off. The night air was chilly, showing no similarity to the heat of the day. The two, robot and Irken, paused just outside of the store. Zim massaged his aching forehead; the lighting outside wasn't helping him any... then again, neither was GIR. The robot had ignored its promise to keep quiet and was singing the Doom song while sucking down the slush-o noisily. "Come ON, GIR." He tugged the leash impatiently. "Let us go home!"
GIR slurped his slush-o in answer, but followed obediently. The cold soon began to set into the duo, sending almost violent shivers through the alien and the knowledge that it was cold out to the robot. Zim wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to stay warm. He began to hurry along, although GIR lagged behind, intent on drinking his slush-o and was dead to the world. "Hurry GIR, it's freezing outside!" he commanded, giving the leash a hard tug.
"Coming Master!" The happy chirping voice sent a stabbing pain through Zim's head. It only got worse as GIR droned on about nonsense. Soon it was enough to send him reeling in pain. Zim groaned, clutching his head.
"GIR BE SILENT!" Zim screamed, finally losing all patience... or whatever he had had to begin with. "Can't you see I have a headache? Keep quiet as you promised!! I need peace!!!"
The robot only nodded, mystified by Zim's rage, then returned to tamely sipping its slush-o.
Lights from houses stared blankly out into the darkness, sending strange shadows reflecting all around. The shadows scurried away from the light, leaving to go on whatever business shadows had. After a while of walking beneath scattered pools of light and infinite reaches of darkness, the odd green house came into view, huddled away from its fellow houses. It was dark, unlike its bright neighbors. Zim finally began to relax. Soon he would be locked away within his lab, soothing his headache far away from GIR. Maybe he would begin his latest plan once the headache had passed. Or maybe he'd just finish the experiment he'd begun earlier this week. Better yet...
Zim stopped dead in his tracks. GIR didn't notice and continued walking until the leash stopped him. He jerked to a stop, almost falling to the ground. Zim blinked, straining his eyes against the darkness. There was someone standing in the gateway to his house. It was far enough outside the perimeter to where the gnomes wouldn't sense it. Smart, on its part. Who-or what-could possibly be awake at this hour of the night? And why in the world would they be standing in his gateway? He pushed aside those thoughts for the moment. Attempting to show no fear, the tiny Invader marched towards the figure. "Don't come any closer, Zimmm!" a voice rang out. "I have you now!"
The alien groaned inwardly. Dib... why did it have to be Dib? Why now of all times? "What do you want, human?" he emphasized the pronoun with distaste, trying to keep the weariness out of his voice.
There was a subtle movement in the darkness. Without warning, GIR, who had been closest to the silhouette of Dib, went into wild convulsions, shrieking. Zim took an involuntary step back, unnerved. The robot suddenly went silent, falling into a limp heap on the pavement with a metallic clang. Strangest, and most frightening of all, the slush-o fell from GIR's hand, rolling to spill on Zim's grass. He watched it sink slowly into the greenery, scared finally. It was unlike GIR to drop any human food that was edible. Finally terrified, Zim did the only thing that seemed sensible.
He fled back the way he came.
GIR's lifeless body bounced along behind him as he ran. He could hear Dib running after him, never gaining, merely hounding. It was stressful enough just seeing the human at skool, but why did he have to terrorize him afterwards as well! Fortunately, he was an Invader, and Invaders had amazing stamina; they were of the Soldier class after all. If Zim had been of the Student class, there would be no way he could have done this with such ease and grace-
He tripped over a rock. The impact sent him flying. Zim rolled, coming back up easily on his feet before breaking into another run. Dib had gained a few feet as a result of his fall. GIR was slowing him. He set his jaw, speeding up to increase the distance. The streetlights glimmered on, oblivious to the struggle going on beneath their fickle glow. The mini-mart flashed by, standing like a concrete sentinel. In the glow of its lights, he stole a quick glance behind him to see whether or not Dib was still after him. He was. In his hand was a long metal pole with a hand-like grasping utensil at the end. Electricity radiated from the grasping thing like heat off of summer blacktop. That had to be what had fried GIR's circuits! The Irken didn't want to find out what it would do to him.
As if in response to his fear, his robotic legs emerged, propelling him forward at a faster rate than running could have provided. He just hoped Dib didn't have his camera ready. Any shots of him with the extra legs would be incriminating. To increase his pace even further, he tied GIR's leash around his waist, making sure the robot no longer dragged on the ground. There were no other humans around on this street at this hour, ensuring relative safety if he could escape Dib.
The street became unfamiliar and strange as Zim fled further away from everything he'd come to know.
~ ~ ~
"Pick up the phone, Mer! Damn it; it's me! Pick up!"
"...Hello?"
"Finally! I've been calling for ten minutes!"
"Jendai Kaalae! It's midnight! I was asleep."
"You want what I got or not?"
"Stop teasing me and spill the details."
"I've found him! He was here about five minuets ago, then took off with a green dog. Just before you picked up, he ran by the store. Some human was chasing him!"
"Shit, Jendai! What are you doing talking to me? Get your goddamn hide over there and get him before the human does! What are you waiting for?"
"How am I supposed to do that? They had a head start!"
"You took the pick-up Jendai! I dunno, maybe... DRIVE!?"
"I hate cars, you know that. Stupid inventions. They're inefficient and slow."
"Just go! I don't care how you do it, just do it!"
"As you wish."
The man hung up, heading for the beat up old pickup truck parked at the fill-up stationed. "Put it on my tab," he barked at the attendant. "Ask the lady at the register about it. Just hurry it up, I have somewhere to be!"
The young man hurried to unhook the pump from the Toyota's rusty side. He glanced at the meter, wanting to tell his customer how much he would owe, but the lanky man was already clambering up into the driver side. The man slammed the door, looking for the ignition key; upon finding it he started the car and let it idle for a while. Even after fourteen years of driving the truck, it still took him a while to remember how to work it. Twenty years of driving other things had made them a higher priority in his brain. Finally, he recalled the proper ways of driving and put the pickup in gear. He gunned the engine to the best of its abilities and tore off in the direction his target had fled.
He prayed to Merana's "Gods" that he'd get to the target before it was too late. The old engine of the pickup clanged and rattled horribly in the still night. There would be no sneaking up on the target now; the deaf could hear this truck coming from a mile away. Tenseness crept into the man, causing his driving to become worse than it already was. Such a thing was unacceptable. He needed to be calm to carry out a successful collection to the target. Frowning, he looked over at the radio. It was dark, being off at the moment. His long, slender fingers danced over the knobs, selecting the right station. It blared out in the hard rock humans loved and he preferred over the other forms of music. He turned up the volume, as he needed his eyes, not his ears to find the target. The song was by a group known as "Creed." What that meant, he had no idea. All the man knew was that it calmed him. Finally relaxing behind the wheel, he allowed himself to hum along with the song, which was called, "What If?"
"I can't find the rhyme in all my reason.
I've lost sense of time and all seasons.
I feel I've been beaten down,
by the words of men who have no grounds.
I can't sleep beneath the trees of wisdom
when your axe has cut the roots that feed them.
Forked tongues in bitter mouths
can drive a man to bleed from inside out."
The target abruptly came into view. He turned the radio down, but not off. He needed the music to keep him calm. The man never slowed the truck. There would be no way the target would allow himself to be picked up the way the man preferred to do things. It would have to be done forcibly... He hated doing things that way. He just wasn't someone who could bend others to his will easily. That was why he was... no, not was anymore. Now it was "had been." Angry, he dropped the subject, turning his attention to the target.
The boy chasing the target showed no signs of relenting, so the man pulled forward, keeping just ahead of them. He could watch the chase easily through his rearview mirror, waiting for the human boy to wear the target out before he made his move. All he had to do was keep the target in sight-
the target abruptly whirled down Riverview Road, heading towards the bridge. The man cursed loudly, almost fishtailing the truck in an attempt to make the turn in time to keep up. "Why can't Mer just have done this?" he asked the radio.
His only response was the changing of songs. He set his jaw and continued on to finish his mission.
~ ~ ~
Zim was getting tired. Not physically, seeing as he wasn't the one actually running, but mentally. It took constant thought for him to keep on moving the robotic legs along. Their increased pace made it even more difficult. It just wasn't a natural way to run. Normally, one just used their natural legs-or, in the case of the Almighty Tallest, hovered around rather than be lowered to the same mode of transportation as those shorter than you. If Dib didn't eventually give up, which was unlikely, Zim feared he would eventually collapse, asleep in the middle of the sidewalk. And on top of all this, GIR was growing heavier by the minute. He swerved around a corner, trying to throw Dib off his tail.
The street he'd turned down was totally unfamiliar. Zim hadn't learned his way completely around this city yet. It was unsettling. Even more unfortunate was the fact that there was far more traffic moving up and down the road. A sinking feeling filled him as his robotic legs slipped back into his back pod with their usual silent grace. Now he was on his own power.
His boots rose and fell in a quick, terrified drumbeat that matched the racing of his pulse. He almost forgot to breathe as the need to flee took over everything. Traffic increased as he ran on. I must be near a highway of some kind...he thought. Why did I even leave the lab today? Those thoughts, those single, drifting thoughts were enough to bring his headache back from obscurity. Pain laced through his head as he froze, staggering and grabbing his head in an attempt to stop the agony. It throbbed mercilessly. Something crashed into his back, sending the tiny alien flying down to the hard concrete ground. The rock-hard stuff scraped through the palms of his gloves, cutting into his hands. With a small moan, he sat up slightly, only to stare at the form of his enemy, glowering down at him. "Hello Zim," the human said quietly. The Invader attempted to rise, only to be stopped by the metal pole swinging down within an inch of his face. "Don't even try it."
"What is that?" Zim reached up to touch the object, momentarily forgetting his fear. Curiosity, it seemed, was strong in Irkens as well. He grabbed the tip, intending to push it away. Almost instantly he yanked his hand back, fighting the urge to cry out with both pain and surprise. He looked carefully at the injured hand. Burns had appeared on the already torn, green skin of his palm. It hurt. Somewhat bewildered, he tried to keep up his aloof and confident appearance. "Some pathetic human weapon?" he sneered.
"Oh, this?" Dib did not move the thing away from Zim's face. "It's just a little something I borrowed from the guards at my dad's show. A tazer I believe it's called."
"What to you propose to do with this... tazer thing?" Zim asked warily. He tensed his muscles in case an opportunity to escape presented itself. It was doubtful.
The human had to consider his question for a moment. He tapped his chin, acting as if he were in deep thought. "How about... shock you into unconsciousness, then drag your body off to..." Dib paused for breath. His last sentence had been rapid. "to show the world I was right about you, Zim!" Zim desperately wanted to smack that look of triumph from his nemesis's face. The pole never moved away; in fact, it seemed to be moving closer. "I hope you like scientists, Zim," Dib said, an evil smile sliding over his ugly face. "You'll be seeing a lot of them in a moment."
"Pretty words, human," Zim sneered again. A devilish look appeared on his face, defying Dib to the end. "I see you've finally gotten the guts to face me." Dib growled. Anger at Zim for showing no fear filled him. Enraged, he pulled the trigger on the end he held.
It was more a jolt of heat than electricity that hit Zim full in the face. This time, he did cry out, writhing on the hard ground. GIR's body banged against the cement as its master twisted in agony, fighting to remain conscious. Faintly, Zim heard Dib laughing hysterically at him. It was worse than the water balloons, worse than the other various things the human had tried to use against him. The most he could do was not give the human the satisfaction of his fear. If he survived this, never again would he cringe away from Dib's challenges... IF he survived... The agonizing rod seared across his flesh, burning into his flesh. The smell of burning meat filled the air.
A horn blast sounded, closer and louder than the others on the street. Startled, Dib jumped away, taking the rod with him. Zim felt his agony suddenly cease. He staggered to his feet, then ran, dragging GIR with him. His feet no longer rose and fell in the same, easy rhythm. They staggered, occasionally tripping over each other. Zim couldn't see. It was like a dream. One of those awful dreams where you ran and ran, not able to see, and no matter how far you thought you ran, your nightmare was always right behind you. You could hear it, feel it, but could never see it until it pounced, dragging you down and you woke up screaming in terror. Zim had had such dreams. He wanted to wake up. Wake up and be safely tucked away in his lab. The sounds of screeching breaks told him he was in the road. Blinded by pain and fear, he ran in the opposite direction from the sounds of cars. He blinked the blood from his eyes-why was there blood in his eyes? Was he really injured that badly?-only to see a large, rusted vehicle speed by. Zim yelped, leaping back out of the way. As he landed, his foot hit a pebble, sending him sprawling backwards into nothingness.
~ ~ ~
The man sped past his target, only to watch it go sprawling off the bridge. He cursed, pulling over abruptly. Another car honked loudly at him, its driver cursing him. He paid it no attention. Mer would kill him, literally, if the target was collected dead. He had never killed the target before... never killed anything, come to think of it. The only thing he'd been doing was trying to make sure the human hadn't injured it too terribly... and had almost run it over. "Damn!" he cursed again and again, climbing out of the cab. Making his way to the bridge's guardrail, he checked for the human boy who had left. He had. That was an unexpected gift. The man leaned over the rail, scanning the dark water below. His scan showed some foam from the target's splash, but nothing else. The man began to fret. Was the target drowned? Finally, there was a thrashing sound in the water. He dashed back to the truck, opened the glove compartment and rummaged through it. Selecting a flashlight, a net, and a length of coiled rope, he returned to the rail. He hated using the rope-net combination, albeit the fact that it was merely a net attached to a nylon rope. "My, aren't we high-tech?" he grumbled, attaching the net to the rope.
His long fingers switched on the flashlight and shone the powerful beam down into the darkness. It illuminated a single, struggling form in the cold, unforgiving water. The man tossed the rope out a few yards ahead of the suddenly still target, hoping the current would carry one to the other. His hopes were answered as the drifting body was carried safely into the net. He heaved the rope upwards, pulling the target to him. Careful not to let the body hit the bridge, he held the rope out at arm's length for the last ten feet.
The thing he finally collected looked more like a drowned rat than what he knew it was. Closer examination showed it to still be breathing, however faintly. The green dog was limp, tied around the target's waist with its leash. What troubled him was the long, bloodied burn on the left side of the target's face. That and the fact water had no effect on it. He frowned, laying the body on the ground briefly while he coiled the rope for storage. The expression never lifted as he put the equipment away and lay the limp body on the passenger seat. He carefully untied the dog from the target, laying that on the floor. Next, he slid a finger around what appeared to be the target's hairline. The wig slid off, falling down to the floor in a wet heap and revealing two, straight antennae emerging from the top of the target's head. So he had been right, after all. He covered the target with a towel before sliding into the driver's seat. With a sigh, he started up the truck and began the long drive to Merana's house.
He just hoped both he and the target survived the trip there.
(A/N#3: Oooo... Spooky, eh? Anywho, I'll get chapter 2 up ASAP. And BTW, I'll include a pronunciation guide at the end of chapter 2. Have fun waitin!)
A/N#1: You know the drill, I don't own Zim or any other IZ characters that may pop up in here. I only own Jendai Kaalae and Merana Sali. They're mine. Steal them and I'll do doom things to you... There's gonna be some darkness and cussin in here. You have been warned.
A/N#2: I dunno if anyone's heard of the movie with the SAME TITLE as this fic. I made this up BEFORE I heard of the stupid movie. So, none of "you stole this or that." Ugh, I talk to much. Here's the blasted story already.
Chapter One:
GIR, a slush-o, and a migraine
The clock was ticking. Ticking away wasted seconds, minutes, hours, days and eventually years. Humankind was a slave to the time. Planning every waking minute around combinations of hours and minutes. Nothing else dominated life so. The sacred clock told humans when to sleep, to eat, to play, to go to skool or work... it practically told them how to live. They were slaves already; slaves to some blasted invention.
Clocks would be one of the first things he would do away with once he conquered this filthy planet.
Invader Zim boredly drummed his pencil against the desktop, as if the tapping would hasten the flow of time in his favor. There was nothing he could do, "brilliant" as he was, to dispose of time permanently. It mainly just disgusted him how devoted the humans were to the clock. Of course, his race had their own time-telling devices. They just weren't so pathetic about the whole thing. All other ideas to pass the time exhausted, he began plotting. Plans clicked into place and he mentally acted them out, smiling evilly as he watched. The worthy ones were filed away until he reached his lab to turn the simple beginnings into great plots that may even come close to working.
Too soon his mind was stated with plans for the day, leaving Zim wondering what to do next. Skool was incredibly easy. The Invader knew everything already. He relaxed, sinking lower in his seat. As Ms. Bitters droned on and on about doom, he found himself slowly drifting off. Last night had been a late one down in the lab. GIR kept interrupting his work, which was nothing new. In fact, the incident occurred so often, Zim was beginning to question whether or not GIR truly was the advanced model he was said to be. He figured he had better not question the Tallest, but the issue kept coming up.
Something hit him in the head. His eyes flicked open, glaring around the classroom. They came to rest on his nemesis. The vile, filthy human, Dib... The boy was whistling innocently and pretending to be listening intently to the teacher. Zim knew better. He glanced down, wanting to know what it was that had hit him. A paper airplane lay crumpled by his foot. He picked it up, gently unfolding the plane's damaged wings. Ever since arriving on this miserable rock called Earth, Zim had held a fondness for the delicate paper crafts. Dib's design of the small thing badly hindered its maneuverability and potential speed. The Irken glared. Another mess to clean up. At least this one wasn't as bad as GIR's... Oh well, he thought. He had nothing better to do at the moment. He unfolded the entire thing, smoothing out the obvious errors with deft passes of his gloved hands. But it was when the thing was finally completely unfolded, the true intent of the alluring craft was revealed.
It was another insane sketch of Zim being experimented on by humans while Dib cackled in the background, cradling yet another strange invention.
He ignored the pathetic drawing and went back to re-creating the paper plane.
~ ~ ~
"Mer, I've found another one."
"...You're sure?"
"Of course. Have I ever steered you wrong?"
"Need I remind you about LA, Jendai?"
"That was different, I'd just healed. You can't pin that one on me. It was the pain talking, not me."
"Fine. Whatever you say. Where's this one, then? In a jar of peanut butter?"
"Oh ha-ha. You want me to play around or the truth?"
"Truth, Kaalae, truth."
"Here."
"Here as in... where?"
"Here as in... this city."
"You're sure?"
"One-hundred percent sure. I've seen him wandering around. They're hard to miss, those green kids."
"He stands out that bad?"
"Worse."
"Oh Gods... Okay, I'll believe you. Go see what you can find out about the poor wretch and bring him to me ASAP."
"Aren't you coming?"
"No, there's too much I need to do with the last one you brought me."
"All right. Good luck Merana."
"You too, Jendai."
~ ~ ~
"GIR! I'm home!" Zim stood beside the front door, ignoring the robo-parents and half-expecting the odd little robot to appear with some new problem or squirrel sighting. When it failed to appear, he could only assume it was down in his lab watching what the two of them had dubbed "the Scary Monkey Show." He never understood why GIR loved it. The only thing that ever moved on that show were the flies that buzzed around its half-dead star. Maybe GIR had gone to get a slush-o... That possibility was even more likely, Zim observed, moving into the center of the room. The vase of human money they had collected in the streets was lying on the couch, shiny coins spilled all over the pillows. They looked picked over. GIR MUST have gone to get one of those disgusting chocolate-bubblegum slush-os! It was practically addicted to the nauseating things.
His robot-slave's disappearance was of no consequence. GIR would return shortly. It always did. Providing it still remembered the way back...
Zim shrugged, making for the couch. Mentally, he willed the slender mechanical legs out of his back pod. They complied, pulling their owner up onto the couch before retreating back to the place where they came. It was only now that Zim removed part of his disguise. The wig slid easily off, falling into his hands only to be cast aside onto the pile of coins laying beside him. His thin, black antennae slowly uncurled from their cramped position against his head. They itched horribly. The alien obliged the pair with careful scratches up and down their frail-looking black lengths. He could have just sat there until dark, massaging the stiff appendages.
But there was far too much work to do down in the lab. Somewhat reluctantly, he jumped off the couch, heading into the kitchen. Once there, he climbed on top of the toilet and flushed himself down to the lab.
By midnight, GIR still had not returned. With a groan of annoyance, Zim donned his disguise once more and set out to find the wayward robot. "How much should I bet myself that it's out dancing with some huuuumans?" Zim wondered aloud. He hated walking around this planet at night; albeit the fact that it wasn't too far to the 24/7 convenience store where GIR bought its slush-os.
In the dark, there was always a nagging feeling you were being watched by the something lurking in the shadows. His boots tapped noisily against the pavement. But now the noise was reassuring rather than the annoyance it usually was. Now, it was the only noise in the infinite darkness broken only by pools of flickering fluorescent lights. "It must be later than I thought," Zim muttered to calm himself. He was feeling jumpy. "It's better this way. Not so many stinky, smelly, stink people... things around. How long was I in the lab? Suppose it doesn't matter... I got a lot of work done though... maybe the lazer weasels will finally ripen..." Zim realized he'd been babbling.
The tiny Invader took a deep breath, trying to remain calm enough to make it to the store. He could see the mini-mart up ahead, lights gleaming dully against the darkness. He sighed with relief. Already, he could feel the fear creeping up on him, ready to pull him down into a churning sea of panic and terror. The tapping of his boots was suddenly echoed. Zim froze. Then kicked into a run. The odd echo followed for a few feet, changing its pace to one opposite Zim's. He fought down panic as he fled the thing shadowing him. What could it be? he wondered fleetingly. Just as suddenly as it began, the echo stopped. He cringed, half-expecting the thing to leap on him and tear him to bits while he cowered without protection. But nothing happened. Nervous, Zim peered out from behind his hands. There was nothing there. Boldness overcame whatever confusion that surfaced as the Irken marched towards the island of light that was the store. "I shall defeat this planet yet!" he laughed.
He marched into under the overhang where human vehicles pulled up to refuel. It stank, as usual. Zim was beginning to wonder whether or not any place on this sorry rock didn't reek horribly. A gas attendant took a break from fueling up a rusty pick-up truck to eye him with a strange look as the small, green figure paused for breath just outside the store's glass door. His stare angered Zim. "Look away at your precious fuel, filthy huuuman!" he snapped. "Do not foul Zim with your... disgusting..." He halted a moment, trying to figure out what the man was holding. "...fuel collecting... thing!" Proud of himself once more, he strutted through the door to locate GIR.
The interior of the mini-mart smelled too. Only not just of gasoline, but of week-old coffee and human sweat. Zim felt like gagging, but only screwed up his large eyes in distaste. Didn't humans ever clean anything? "GIR had better be here..." he muttered threateningly before striding towards the back of the store where the slush-o machine was kept. There were only two humans in the store at this hour; the half-asleep cashier and a lanky male human dressed in a bland white shirt, ripped blue jeans and a long coat that fell to his knees. A newspaper hid his face. Zim gave him a longer glance than he gave most humans. Most humans stared or pointed at him, but this one didn't even acknowledge his presence in the store. With a shrug, the Invader ignored him, heading back to the slush-o machine. Before he could even see it, a frantic squeaking sound was heard coming from the large machine's direction. Full of foreboding, he rounded the corner created by a rack of chips and another rack of cookies, and stared.
GIR was here all right. Here and thankfully still disguised as a dog. The dim-witted robot was jumping up and down in a futile attempt to reach the countertop where the machine sat. It uttered pitiful little squeaks every time it came down on the floor. It was a pathetic scene. For a moment, Zim just stared in disbelief. Wildly, he looked at the clock on the wall, then at GIR and back to the grimy clock. "I hesitate to ask," he began, striding forward. "but what are you doing, GIR?"
It stopped jumping instantly at the sound of its master's voice. GIR might have been stupid, but it knew who its master was, and that it was to obey Zim at all times. Without even bothering to face Zim, it chirruped, "I can't reach my slush-o, Master... So I was jumping to see if I could get taller by jumping for it. I've been jumping for a long time, Master, but it isn't working..."
"How long have you been jumping?"
"Ummm... since... since the biggy handy thingy on the twelve and the smally handy thingy on the three!"
"So," Zim folded his thin arms over his chest. "you've been jumping up and down for nine hours straight?"
GIR cocked its head to the side. "I doooon't knooooow..." it replied simply. All other thoughts abandoned, it returned to jumping and squeaking.
"Stop that at once GIR, and stand still!" The alien closed his eyes. GIR's squeaks were giving him a headache. "Now, if I get you a slush-o, will you keep absolutely silent for the rest of the night?"
It took GIR a while to think this over. Zim tapped his foot against the ground, waiting impatiently. "Ummm..." it said, thinking aloud. "Can I still watch the Scary Monkey Show?"
"Being silent does not mean you can't watch television, GIR." The robot opened its mouth to ask another question. "Nor does it mean," Zim cut it off. "you can't eat tuna and cupcakes, or play with bees or squirrels. It merely means you cannot make a single sound." He was getting exasperated with his robot.
GIR stopped jumping once again. "Can I sing the Doom Song?"
"No GIR!" Zim snapped, slapping his forehead. "You cannot sing the Doom Song while being silent! Now, do you want your slush-o or not?"
"I doooooo..."
With that matter somewhat settled, Zim climbed up on GIR's head. Their combined heights made it easy for the Irken to reach the cool machine and extract the frozen contents from the nozzle. It smelled awful. Looked awful too. A strange combination of brown and pink that made the chocolate-bubblegum flavor. Stifling both an imagined nausea and a real migraine, Zim handed the cup to his hyperactive robot. GIR began to jump again in its excitement, forgetting all about Zim's presence on its head. The Invader yelped, stomping on GIR's head to remind it he was still up there. GIR froze, allowing him to clamber down with as much dignity as he could muster. "I got chocolate bubblegum!" it squealed in joy.
"Yes, yes you did," Zim muttered. GIR's voice was aggravating his headache. He wanted nothing more than to lounge in his lab-his peaceful, GIR free lab-and maybe fly some paper airplanes before he fell asleep. "Come GIR. We must pay for your slush-o. It's time to go home." He grabbed GIR's leash, pulling it along behind him.
The lanky human was still there, reading his newspaper beside the coffee machine. He eyed the alien briefly before going back to the news stories about the latest crimes and movies that were to come out soon. "Aren't you out a little late?" he asked from behind the paper. His voice had a gentle, tenor ring to it, making it one of those voices stars and speakers always tried to achieve. It was those voices that you could listen to for hours, just listening to the pitches and tones rather than the actual words the person spoke. The cashier was already enthralled by it; in fact, she was practically drooling over the human. He took no notice of her, just kept on reading the paper.
"No, I'm not," Zim snapped, glaring. When he got no answer, he strode up to the register to pay for the slush-o. "Here, store slave," he growled, throwing five quarters onto the counter. "I assume this is enough to pay for the item."
"Mmm-hmm..." the cashier mumbled, still staring love-eyed at the human with the paper.
Zim stared at the pair curiously before exiting the store. What was that all about? He shrugged it off. The night air was chilly, showing no similarity to the heat of the day. The two, robot and Irken, paused just outside of the store. Zim massaged his aching forehead; the lighting outside wasn't helping him any... then again, neither was GIR. The robot had ignored its promise to keep quiet and was singing the Doom song while sucking down the slush-o noisily. "Come ON, GIR." He tugged the leash impatiently. "Let us go home!"
GIR slurped his slush-o in answer, but followed obediently. The cold soon began to set into the duo, sending almost violent shivers through the alien and the knowledge that it was cold out to the robot. Zim wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to stay warm. He began to hurry along, although GIR lagged behind, intent on drinking his slush-o and was dead to the world. "Hurry GIR, it's freezing outside!" he commanded, giving the leash a hard tug.
"Coming Master!" The happy chirping voice sent a stabbing pain through Zim's head. It only got worse as GIR droned on about nonsense. Soon it was enough to send him reeling in pain. Zim groaned, clutching his head.
"GIR BE SILENT!" Zim screamed, finally losing all patience... or whatever he had had to begin with. "Can't you see I have a headache? Keep quiet as you promised!! I need peace!!!"
The robot only nodded, mystified by Zim's rage, then returned to tamely sipping its slush-o.
Lights from houses stared blankly out into the darkness, sending strange shadows reflecting all around. The shadows scurried away from the light, leaving to go on whatever business shadows had. After a while of walking beneath scattered pools of light and infinite reaches of darkness, the odd green house came into view, huddled away from its fellow houses. It was dark, unlike its bright neighbors. Zim finally began to relax. Soon he would be locked away within his lab, soothing his headache far away from GIR. Maybe he would begin his latest plan once the headache had passed. Or maybe he'd just finish the experiment he'd begun earlier this week. Better yet...
Zim stopped dead in his tracks. GIR didn't notice and continued walking until the leash stopped him. He jerked to a stop, almost falling to the ground. Zim blinked, straining his eyes against the darkness. There was someone standing in the gateway to his house. It was far enough outside the perimeter to where the gnomes wouldn't sense it. Smart, on its part. Who-or what-could possibly be awake at this hour of the night? And why in the world would they be standing in his gateway? He pushed aside those thoughts for the moment. Attempting to show no fear, the tiny Invader marched towards the figure. "Don't come any closer, Zimmm!" a voice rang out. "I have you now!"
The alien groaned inwardly. Dib... why did it have to be Dib? Why now of all times? "What do you want, human?" he emphasized the pronoun with distaste, trying to keep the weariness out of his voice.
There was a subtle movement in the darkness. Without warning, GIR, who had been closest to the silhouette of Dib, went into wild convulsions, shrieking. Zim took an involuntary step back, unnerved. The robot suddenly went silent, falling into a limp heap on the pavement with a metallic clang. Strangest, and most frightening of all, the slush-o fell from GIR's hand, rolling to spill on Zim's grass. He watched it sink slowly into the greenery, scared finally. It was unlike GIR to drop any human food that was edible. Finally terrified, Zim did the only thing that seemed sensible.
He fled back the way he came.
GIR's lifeless body bounced along behind him as he ran. He could hear Dib running after him, never gaining, merely hounding. It was stressful enough just seeing the human at skool, but why did he have to terrorize him afterwards as well! Fortunately, he was an Invader, and Invaders had amazing stamina; they were of the Soldier class after all. If Zim had been of the Student class, there would be no way he could have done this with such ease and grace-
He tripped over a rock. The impact sent him flying. Zim rolled, coming back up easily on his feet before breaking into another run. Dib had gained a few feet as a result of his fall. GIR was slowing him. He set his jaw, speeding up to increase the distance. The streetlights glimmered on, oblivious to the struggle going on beneath their fickle glow. The mini-mart flashed by, standing like a concrete sentinel. In the glow of its lights, he stole a quick glance behind him to see whether or not Dib was still after him. He was. In his hand was a long metal pole with a hand-like grasping utensil at the end. Electricity radiated from the grasping thing like heat off of summer blacktop. That had to be what had fried GIR's circuits! The Irken didn't want to find out what it would do to him.
As if in response to his fear, his robotic legs emerged, propelling him forward at a faster rate than running could have provided. He just hoped Dib didn't have his camera ready. Any shots of him with the extra legs would be incriminating. To increase his pace even further, he tied GIR's leash around his waist, making sure the robot no longer dragged on the ground. There were no other humans around on this street at this hour, ensuring relative safety if he could escape Dib.
The street became unfamiliar and strange as Zim fled further away from everything he'd come to know.
~ ~ ~
"Pick up the phone, Mer! Damn it; it's me! Pick up!"
"...Hello?"
"Finally! I've been calling for ten minutes!"
"Jendai Kaalae! It's midnight! I was asleep."
"You want what I got or not?"
"Stop teasing me and spill the details."
"I've found him! He was here about five minuets ago, then took off with a green dog. Just before you picked up, he ran by the store. Some human was chasing him!"
"Shit, Jendai! What are you doing talking to me? Get your goddamn hide over there and get him before the human does! What are you waiting for?"
"How am I supposed to do that? They had a head start!"
"You took the pick-up Jendai! I dunno, maybe... DRIVE!?"
"I hate cars, you know that. Stupid inventions. They're inefficient and slow."
"Just go! I don't care how you do it, just do it!"
"As you wish."
The man hung up, heading for the beat up old pickup truck parked at the fill-up stationed. "Put it on my tab," he barked at the attendant. "Ask the lady at the register about it. Just hurry it up, I have somewhere to be!"
The young man hurried to unhook the pump from the Toyota's rusty side. He glanced at the meter, wanting to tell his customer how much he would owe, but the lanky man was already clambering up into the driver side. The man slammed the door, looking for the ignition key; upon finding it he started the car and let it idle for a while. Even after fourteen years of driving the truck, it still took him a while to remember how to work it. Twenty years of driving other things had made them a higher priority in his brain. Finally, he recalled the proper ways of driving and put the pickup in gear. He gunned the engine to the best of its abilities and tore off in the direction his target had fled.
He prayed to Merana's "Gods" that he'd get to the target before it was too late. The old engine of the pickup clanged and rattled horribly in the still night. There would be no sneaking up on the target now; the deaf could hear this truck coming from a mile away. Tenseness crept into the man, causing his driving to become worse than it already was. Such a thing was unacceptable. He needed to be calm to carry out a successful collection to the target. Frowning, he looked over at the radio. It was dark, being off at the moment. His long, slender fingers danced over the knobs, selecting the right station. It blared out in the hard rock humans loved and he preferred over the other forms of music. He turned up the volume, as he needed his eyes, not his ears to find the target. The song was by a group known as "Creed." What that meant, he had no idea. All the man knew was that it calmed him. Finally relaxing behind the wheel, he allowed himself to hum along with the song, which was called, "What If?"
"I can't find the rhyme in all my reason.
I've lost sense of time and all seasons.
I feel I've been beaten down,
by the words of men who have no grounds.
I can't sleep beneath the trees of wisdom
when your axe has cut the roots that feed them.
Forked tongues in bitter mouths
can drive a man to bleed from inside out."
The target abruptly came into view. He turned the radio down, but not off. He needed the music to keep him calm. The man never slowed the truck. There would be no way the target would allow himself to be picked up the way the man preferred to do things. It would have to be done forcibly... He hated doing things that way. He just wasn't someone who could bend others to his will easily. That was why he was... no, not was anymore. Now it was "had been." Angry, he dropped the subject, turning his attention to the target.
The boy chasing the target showed no signs of relenting, so the man pulled forward, keeping just ahead of them. He could watch the chase easily through his rearview mirror, waiting for the human boy to wear the target out before he made his move. All he had to do was keep the target in sight-
the target abruptly whirled down Riverview Road, heading towards the bridge. The man cursed loudly, almost fishtailing the truck in an attempt to make the turn in time to keep up. "Why can't Mer just have done this?" he asked the radio.
His only response was the changing of songs. He set his jaw and continued on to finish his mission.
~ ~ ~
Zim was getting tired. Not physically, seeing as he wasn't the one actually running, but mentally. It took constant thought for him to keep on moving the robotic legs along. Their increased pace made it even more difficult. It just wasn't a natural way to run. Normally, one just used their natural legs-or, in the case of the Almighty Tallest, hovered around rather than be lowered to the same mode of transportation as those shorter than you. If Dib didn't eventually give up, which was unlikely, Zim feared he would eventually collapse, asleep in the middle of the sidewalk. And on top of all this, GIR was growing heavier by the minute. He swerved around a corner, trying to throw Dib off his tail.
The street he'd turned down was totally unfamiliar. Zim hadn't learned his way completely around this city yet. It was unsettling. Even more unfortunate was the fact that there was far more traffic moving up and down the road. A sinking feeling filled him as his robotic legs slipped back into his back pod with their usual silent grace. Now he was on his own power.
His boots rose and fell in a quick, terrified drumbeat that matched the racing of his pulse. He almost forgot to breathe as the need to flee took over everything. Traffic increased as he ran on. I must be near a highway of some kind...he thought. Why did I even leave the lab today? Those thoughts, those single, drifting thoughts were enough to bring his headache back from obscurity. Pain laced through his head as he froze, staggering and grabbing his head in an attempt to stop the agony. It throbbed mercilessly. Something crashed into his back, sending the tiny alien flying down to the hard concrete ground. The rock-hard stuff scraped through the palms of his gloves, cutting into his hands. With a small moan, he sat up slightly, only to stare at the form of his enemy, glowering down at him. "Hello Zim," the human said quietly. The Invader attempted to rise, only to be stopped by the metal pole swinging down within an inch of his face. "Don't even try it."
"What is that?" Zim reached up to touch the object, momentarily forgetting his fear. Curiosity, it seemed, was strong in Irkens as well. He grabbed the tip, intending to push it away. Almost instantly he yanked his hand back, fighting the urge to cry out with both pain and surprise. He looked carefully at the injured hand. Burns had appeared on the already torn, green skin of his palm. It hurt. Somewhat bewildered, he tried to keep up his aloof and confident appearance. "Some pathetic human weapon?" he sneered.
"Oh, this?" Dib did not move the thing away from Zim's face. "It's just a little something I borrowed from the guards at my dad's show. A tazer I believe it's called."
"What to you propose to do with this... tazer thing?" Zim asked warily. He tensed his muscles in case an opportunity to escape presented itself. It was doubtful.
The human had to consider his question for a moment. He tapped his chin, acting as if he were in deep thought. "How about... shock you into unconsciousness, then drag your body off to..." Dib paused for breath. His last sentence had been rapid. "to show the world I was right about you, Zim!" Zim desperately wanted to smack that look of triumph from his nemesis's face. The pole never moved away; in fact, it seemed to be moving closer. "I hope you like scientists, Zim," Dib said, an evil smile sliding over his ugly face. "You'll be seeing a lot of them in a moment."
"Pretty words, human," Zim sneered again. A devilish look appeared on his face, defying Dib to the end. "I see you've finally gotten the guts to face me." Dib growled. Anger at Zim for showing no fear filled him. Enraged, he pulled the trigger on the end he held.
It was more a jolt of heat than electricity that hit Zim full in the face. This time, he did cry out, writhing on the hard ground. GIR's body banged against the cement as its master twisted in agony, fighting to remain conscious. Faintly, Zim heard Dib laughing hysterically at him. It was worse than the water balloons, worse than the other various things the human had tried to use against him. The most he could do was not give the human the satisfaction of his fear. If he survived this, never again would he cringe away from Dib's challenges... IF he survived... The agonizing rod seared across his flesh, burning into his flesh. The smell of burning meat filled the air.
A horn blast sounded, closer and louder than the others on the street. Startled, Dib jumped away, taking the rod with him. Zim felt his agony suddenly cease. He staggered to his feet, then ran, dragging GIR with him. His feet no longer rose and fell in the same, easy rhythm. They staggered, occasionally tripping over each other. Zim couldn't see. It was like a dream. One of those awful dreams where you ran and ran, not able to see, and no matter how far you thought you ran, your nightmare was always right behind you. You could hear it, feel it, but could never see it until it pounced, dragging you down and you woke up screaming in terror. Zim had had such dreams. He wanted to wake up. Wake up and be safely tucked away in his lab. The sounds of screeching breaks told him he was in the road. Blinded by pain and fear, he ran in the opposite direction from the sounds of cars. He blinked the blood from his eyes-why was there blood in his eyes? Was he really injured that badly?-only to see a large, rusted vehicle speed by. Zim yelped, leaping back out of the way. As he landed, his foot hit a pebble, sending him sprawling backwards into nothingness.
~ ~ ~
The man sped past his target, only to watch it go sprawling off the bridge. He cursed, pulling over abruptly. Another car honked loudly at him, its driver cursing him. He paid it no attention. Mer would kill him, literally, if the target was collected dead. He had never killed the target before... never killed anything, come to think of it. The only thing he'd been doing was trying to make sure the human hadn't injured it too terribly... and had almost run it over. "Damn!" he cursed again and again, climbing out of the cab. Making his way to the bridge's guardrail, he checked for the human boy who had left. He had. That was an unexpected gift. The man leaned over the rail, scanning the dark water below. His scan showed some foam from the target's splash, but nothing else. The man began to fret. Was the target drowned? Finally, there was a thrashing sound in the water. He dashed back to the truck, opened the glove compartment and rummaged through it. Selecting a flashlight, a net, and a length of coiled rope, he returned to the rail. He hated using the rope-net combination, albeit the fact that it was merely a net attached to a nylon rope. "My, aren't we high-tech?" he grumbled, attaching the net to the rope.
His long fingers switched on the flashlight and shone the powerful beam down into the darkness. It illuminated a single, struggling form in the cold, unforgiving water. The man tossed the rope out a few yards ahead of the suddenly still target, hoping the current would carry one to the other. His hopes were answered as the drifting body was carried safely into the net. He heaved the rope upwards, pulling the target to him. Careful not to let the body hit the bridge, he held the rope out at arm's length for the last ten feet.
The thing he finally collected looked more like a drowned rat than what he knew it was. Closer examination showed it to still be breathing, however faintly. The green dog was limp, tied around the target's waist with its leash. What troubled him was the long, bloodied burn on the left side of the target's face. That and the fact water had no effect on it. He frowned, laying the body on the ground briefly while he coiled the rope for storage. The expression never lifted as he put the equipment away and lay the limp body on the passenger seat. He carefully untied the dog from the target, laying that on the floor. Next, he slid a finger around what appeared to be the target's hairline. The wig slid off, falling down to the floor in a wet heap and revealing two, straight antennae emerging from the top of the target's head. So he had been right, after all. He covered the target with a towel before sliding into the driver's seat. With a sigh, he started up the truck and began the long drive to Merana's house.
He just hoped both he and the target survived the trip there.
(A/N#3: Oooo... Spooky, eh? Anywho, I'll get chapter 2 up ASAP. And BTW, I'll include a pronunciation guide at the end of chapter 2. Have fun waitin!)