Dastardly Damsels in Distress

By Atonia Walpole

(Picture creation also by Atonia)

They sat around the campfire wrapped in their blankets, Atonia and Jo not a day over 33. The terrain was flat and empty and they could see for miles in the moonlight. They’d already counted the stars and were bemoaning the fact that their horses had disappeared…just blip and they were gone.

“Maybe they’ll blip back in the morning,” Atonia yawned. “It’s too cold to sleep.”

Jo adjusted the long flowing yellow skirt of her flimsy dress and had a thought about proper attire in the middle of the desert on a cold night. “I wish I had a pillow. My curls will be squashed by morning.”

“You might as well wish for a bed, too. I’d like to know how we ended up here in the middle of nowhere. Wasn’t me. My GPS quit working a couple of days ago. I thought you had the map.”

“I never had a map…I was just making it up as we went along.”

“You made up this desert? I hope you squash the curls right out of your hair!” Atonia frowned and tried lying down on the hard ground.

Jo pulled up a large rock and decided to lean against it for the night since she hadn’t a pillow.

Atonia rested her hands on her flimsy white dress and looked at her friend. Somebody was responsible for bringing them out here and blipping the horses. There had to be a reason for it.

“What was that? Did you hear something?” Jo sat up straight, straining her ears and even uncovered one from her masses of curls.

“I didn’t hear anything.” Atonia shifted on the ground. “What was it you thought you heard?”

“Footsteps.”

“Out here?” Atonia  laughed. “You can see clear to California…nothing out here.”

They were weaponless which was a strange thing to begin with. They were always well weaponed.

“There it is again…look…somebody’s out there!” Jo stood up, dropping her blanket and immediately wishing she hadn’t. Goose bumps began appearing in the oddest places.

Both were on their feet now and, indeed, there was a dark form coming toward them, walking somewhat erratically. The dark form began to take shape as it neared the fire. It was a man and he looked to be on his last legs. Poor man…what a coven to stumble into.

“Help! Help me!" he moaned and promptly fell to the ground. The women gathered around him and turned him over to get a better look at him.

The firelight showed a trimmed beard, straight nose and tilted brows. His eyes were closed. Jo removed his hat and locks of curling, waving chestnut hair fell about his face. The women suspected.

Atonia unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it over his left nipple. “Moles.”

“It’s…Himself!” Jo exclaimed. “But…what is he doing here?”

“Are you sure it’s Himself? Look how he’s dressed.” Atonia was examining the camo pants he wore.   “Western boots and look at that hat! It’s THE hat!” she said, picking it up.

“It’s not Ben,” Jo said with authority. “He never wore camo.”

“You would know.” Atonia arched a brow. She gently pushed his waves from his forehead. “He looks like Blaine but of course he can’t be Blaine…he doesn’t even know about him.”  He doesn’t know about Alston either, she thought, and all the others…there were so many he didn’t know.

“Maybe he’s got an ID in his pocket.” Atonia reached deep in Himself’s pocket and felt around. Not finding an ID, she felt around again…just to make sure.

Jo was examining his face. “He almost reminds me of Marshall. That can’t be, of course, because he doesn’t know about Marshall. He could be Cort except he’s too clean and his hair is too long to be Maximus or Robin.”

“What character is this?” Atonia wondered aloud.

“Looks like a mish-mash. He’s wearing Maximus’ tooth around his neck.  Jo ran her hand through his softly-curling mass.

“Well, what shall we do with him? I don’t see blood,” Jo observed closely.

“I would imagine you can smell blood,” Atonia quipped.

“You should talk! You even wrote blood-drinkers.”

Atonia shrugged. That was true, of course. She felt of his neck and it was warm. “It’s not William.”

“Doesn’t appear to have any broken bones.”  Atonia was busy feeling up his legs and arms.

“Have you had any medical training?” Jo raised her brows.

“No, but if he was broken I could feel it.”

“He walked in here. I doubt if his legs are broken…give up, Atonia.” Jo sat back on her butt. “Don’t mention broken ankles.”

“Did I say ankle? I wouldn’t, you know.” Atonia reached out for her broken sister and patted her arm.

“Maybe he’s sick. We might get infected with whatever he’s got.”  Atonia gave up feeling him up.

“He’s not running a fever.” Jo lay a hand on his forehead. “He’s warm…still alive.”

“There is that…he’s alive.” Atonia narrowed her eyes.

“What do you think we should do about that?” Jo’s eyes glittered in the firelight.

“Hey, you’re not going to hurt him!” Atonia tried to cover him with her body.

“I never suggested we hurt him. Why ever would we want to do that?” Jo asked.

“So we’re  agreed, we won’t hurt him...right away.” Atonia sat up so the man could still breathe. “Maybe not at all.”

“Probably not.”

They looked at him in silence for a moment. “We could make him more comfortable.”

“You take his ankles and I’ll take his..."

“Why do I have to take his ankles?” Jo complained. “You know how I am about ankles.”

“All right, I’ll take them.”

They moved him into a more comfortable position and placed his hands on his chest.

“Oh…he looks…dead,” Atonia said.

“Move the hands,” Jo instructed.

That was better. They leaned over him and smiled…much better.

“We can do anything we want with him.” Atonia bit her lip slightly.

“Yesss!” Jo hissed.

“Actually…we have done…you know…most everything with him.”

“True, true, Atonia, but he lends himself to it, Himself does. He’s just so…so...”

“Exquisitely deliciously not quite innocent but yet…he is.”

“I wonder what’ s wrong with him. Why did he appear in this desolate place?”

“He looks exhausted. I almost feel a little guilty. I’m always using him sometimes …three or more times in one story.”

“It’s his own fault,” Jo declared. “He’s changed his look so many times and those changed looks become different people, especially for you.”

“Not so fast. Didn’t you  have him trudging through the Civil War for nearly a year? Even cut off his leg!”

“But…but he was Jonathon!”

“Wasn’t Jonathon’s picture you put up. It was Cort. We have used him most foully. I tossed him down in an elevator and broke his back and then nearly blew his hand off.”

“You just killed him as Alston.”

“I know, and I really hated to do that. The story just…wanted it.  But you…oh, what you have done to this poor man. You killed Ben and Terry. THEN, you brought Terry back and tried to kill him in the jungle not to mention poor Marshall, who you once killed only for a moment just to see how it felt. Tried again with chloroform.  Ben was stretched over a rock…why it could be that very rock you were leaning against. I’m not even going to mention EPI life.”

“Good, because then I’d have to mention you giving Terry cancer, of all things. That was horrid. You also made him a heroin addict…really, Atonia, this is a case of the pot calling the kettle black.”

“But I healed him. I always made him well again.”

“Knocked the sense out of him with a helicopter..."

“Drowning Terry in mud!”

“But I brought him back as a ghost. It was a very heart-rending story.”

“How did you know he wanted to be a ghost, Jo?”

“William and Jameson wanted to be vampires?”

“Well…Jameson did.”

Himself moaned and moved a little.

“We’re upsetting him with all this talk.” Jo caressed his cheek. “He may be able to hear us, you know.”

Atonia rested her chin on her knees. “Maybe he’s come to plead with us to give him a rest. Poor man…that ain’t happening.”

“Nope, no way is it happening. I’m busy with him as we speak.”

“So am I, actually twice busy. I’ve got to finish up my earthquake story and I’ve got a Blaine story started, too. Max wants a House story and somewhere in my files I’ve got one of those started, too.  No we can’t leave him alone. We’ll let him rest through the night. I don’t have my computer with me.”

“Neither do I…yes, rest through the night. He needs lots of rest and exercise. Needs to eat properly and stay healthy because we’ll never be finished with him and he keeps making more characters to write.”

“I think I’ll just cuddle on his right side and help keep him healthy through the night.”

“I’ll cuddle on the left side to make sure he stays healthy and makes it through the night.”

“Jo, you don’t think I’d..."

“No more than you think I’d,” she smiled sweetly.

“I wouldn’t dare try anything with Himself. He is the fountain. I want him alive.”

“So you say.”

They narrowed their eyes at each other over the body of Himself and each lay down carefully with an arm across his chest.

Just before dawn Atonia awoke to find her arm empty of Himself and…Jo was missing also.

“AHA!” She jumped up.

“Did you find him?”

“Jo, have you lost him?”

“I didn’t have him. I woke up and the only thing under my arm was this map.”

“Hmm?” They looked over the map.

“Strange looking map. Where does it end?”

“Pittsburgh. Look at the rivers.”

“Could be Columbia…we’ve got three rivers, too.”

“But Himself’s never been to Columbia…he wouldn’t know about the rivers.”

“You know what? I think I know who blipped our horses now. It was Himself.”

“Nooo!” Jo narrowed her eyes. “Let us get lost out here in the desert and then blipped our only means of transportation…oh, there will be a price to pay for this!”

“Leaving us to walk all the way to Pittsburgh…or Columbia. How dare he! We can’t even write ourselves out of this.”

Lamentations and exclamations aside there was nothing to be done except walk…and think…and plot…and think some more.

Bwahahahahahahahaha

Mwahahahahahahahaha

It does not bode well for Himself.

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