THE UNKNOWN PLOT

By Jo

PART THREE: Somewhere A Place For Us

Joimus looked around, her attention attracted by the sound of squirrels gathering in the oak

limbs above their heads. It was more than just the patter of little squirrel paws. It was the click

as they reloaded their automatic weapons.

"What's WRONG with the squirrels of Pittsburgh?" Himself gasped, ducking as a squirrel

descended from a helicopter, barely missing his shoulder.

"It's...it's...I...I...," Joimus stammered.

"Speak UP!" Himself shouted. "What? WHAT?"

"They...they have...reason."  She watched three of them just across the street, training with

light sabres.

"What possible reason could the beasties HAVE that would generate such wanton viciousness

in their little hearts?" Jack glanced over his shoulder at the squirrel who was nearest his left

epaulet, his eyes widening in amazement even as his hand went to the hilt of his cutlass.

"It...it was...the sign," Joimus sighed.

"Squirrels have...signs?" Terry had never heard of such a thing.

"One particular sign," she continued. "A terrible sign."

"Yes?" Himself was getting impatient, especially now that a large male squirrel had paused

directly in front of him, crossed its arms, and blatantly lit a cigarette. How did they KNOW

how to torture him so specifically?

"Where was this sign?" Bud asked, his detective's heart wanting more information.

"Over the eastern entrance to...to the Squirrel Hill Tunnels."

"The squirrels put a sign over the tunnels?" Jim was puzzled. New Jersey squirrels never

engaged in such activities.

"No," Joimus hung her head, nearly ashamed at being a member of the human race. "People.

People put the sign there."

Himself narrowed his seagreens. "How could a simple sign cause rodent life to take up the

bearing of arms?"

"Come," Joimus said. "See for yourselves." 

As they were not far, really, from the tunnels, she led them quickly to the eastern portal.

"There!" She gestured up at the enormous billboard. "That is why."

Indeed, it seemed as though there were a great deal little speedbumps all along the shoulders

of the Parkway East leading into the tunnels. Meggie blinked back tears as Robin slipped an

arm around her shoulders.

"It's...it's really affected the whole squirrel outlook on humankind," Joimus shrugged. "Now

the mother squirrels never let their children even go to the school bus stops alone. Never."

"Many a male squirrel...I hate to say it...has turned to...to drink."

"Others, well, have even resorted to leaving Pittsburgh altogether."

"And...and it's not at all been helped by...that." She pointed to a building on a knoll just up from

the tunnel entrance, a sign over its doorway proclaiming its purpose.

"Well, tough!" Sid spat. "Squirrels are nothing more than rats with fluffy tails. Everybody

knows that. They're a blot upon the earth and should be eliminated, every one of the

disgusting creatures."

"Oh...Sid!" But it was too late. Hercathia herself had heard his remark. The Queen was NOT

amused and instantly had her minions, um, subjects, roll down a different sign, covering over the

speedbump one.

Atonia clutched Max's arm. "Take...take me to Provence...now!"

But it was also too late for that. It was nearly too late for everything.

"Hurry!" Joimus shouted. "We need to find shelter!"

They all began to run, run for their lives, up over the tall hill the tunnel tunneled through.

Jeffrey paused at the top, out of breath, with only enough air to remark to Ute, "Look. Perhaps

Pittsburgh has a general deficit when it comes to billboards?" He pointed at some nearby

signs.

"HURRY!" Joimus urged again, well aware that the music being played by the squirrels

at the base of the Dr. Pepper billboard was not for entertainment, no, but a call to gather

the great squirrel population of Squirrel Hill.

Alex had been on Iwo Jima, yet never had his eyes beheld anything like the sight that they

so unwillingly beheld now. His hand curled in his pocket, fingers tightening around the

sharp shard that was all that was left since Myra had smashed his Nagasaki bowl. His glance

fell to Darlee, standing beside him. He would go down fighting, he would.

"Darlee? We have a ZeeBee and a Doree and now a Darlee?" Himself glared at Joimus, who

by now was too used to it to mind.

"Can I help it if our wimminfolk had parents who made certain choices?" She was, of course,

innocent as a newly-driven tick.

"Isn't that supposed to be newly-driven snow or full as a tick?" Zack asked.

"Here our ticks are so innocent they get driven," Joimus shrugged. "Now RUN! For Pete's

sake...RUN!!"

"I thought it made perfect sense...what she wrote," Jack remarked to Bridgid as he took her

hand and began sprinting.

Run they did, down alleyways, leaping over dumpsters, avoiding giant pot holes and huge

sections peeled off truck tires, not to mention the herd of yaks that migrates through

Pittsburgh every summer on the way to their breeding grounds in Toronto.

"What about...this?" Joimus indicated a cozy house behind an overgrown park.

"For US? For ALL of us?" Himself frowned as only he can.

"I admit it's a bit...tight. But we could stack ourselves like cordwood."

"I refuse, absolutely, to be stacked."

"You would, Sid," Bud growled. "You would."

"You think, flatfoot, that Marie there wants you pressed tightly atop her?"

Marie's sudden wide smile spoke volumes as to her answer to that.

"No," Himself shook his head. "No. Not there."

They ran then another half hour. "Here? It's brick and it's, um, straighter."

"Not enough roof. I need roof," Ed said. "Elise needs roof."

They ran for 45 more minutes. "What about this? It's big and there are still even a few intact

panes in some of the windows."

Bejay looked at Terry. He seemed engrossed in calculating just how many entryways the

broken windows would provide small attackers. "Do...do you think it will be safe enough?"

she asked, fondling the bicep nearest her.

"I have my equipment," he smiled, "and it's completely not blunt."

"At the moment," she sighed under her breath, knowing full well such a state would never

last.

"How will we get inside?" Nash asked, noting the doors were nailed shut.

"Around here!" Hando called.

"Gulp," Himself gulped, not particularly liking heights.

"Ah," Jack grinned, "perfect!"

Himself narrowed his eyes at the Captain, wishing his characters didn't love things he disliked.

So often it involved much smiling despite grittings of teeth while helicopters zoomed by to get

shots.

"Scaffolding?" Robin asked, one eyebrow going up. "Is that scaffolding on the back of this

decrepit structure?"

"Would he know the word decrepit?" Jeffrey wondered.

"He must," Ute pointed out. "He used it."

"It may well not at all be his doing that he used it," Jeffrey continued. "You know how that

works."

"I do, indeed," she nodded, "but as there are several thousand militant squirrels hot on our

trail, perhaps we should debate the point...later?"

"We...we're actually staying...here?" Sid was disgusted. "What about the Westin or the

Renaissance? Why not one of them?"

"Not enough atmosphere. No broken panes. It's obvious." Joimus started up the fire escape.

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