the ground it had given and then some. The monster was just a foot or
two away. Just as I was about to give up and let the smasher do its thing, I
heard another scream. This one was not quite as high pitched as April’s but it
was a decent imitation. A glance to my right revealed Little Bobby screaming
his ever-loving head off. I could have kissed him.
“The Bashir did not have the same
reaction to Bobby’s screams as it did to Aprils. Instead of repulsing him, the
freak of nature was drawn in by Little Bobby’s screeching. In fact, it even
lost interest in me. It tilted its head and examined poor little stupid Bobby,
and Bobby was too dumb to stop screaming.
“‘Bobby,’ I said. ‘Stop.’
“But Little Bobby was screaming so loud
he couldn’t hear me. “‘Bobby...’
“Before I could plead with him to stop
again, the Bashir bolted toward Little Bobby. I frantically looked around for
something to stop it. I spotted a baseball size rock in the field, picked it up
and flung it at the Bashir. It hit the creature on the back of the head, but
didn’t seem to affect him at all. It stomped forward, drool hanging from its
clenched mouth. Little Bobby was about to be smashed to bits and there wasn’t
anything I could do about it. “‘Bobby,’ I yelled one more time.
“This time he stopped screaming, but it
was beyond too late at this point. The Bashir stopped and stood in front of
Little Bobby. It nodded its massive head frantically. A clacking noise emanated
from its throat. It circled Bobby. There was an unsettling sense of joy in its
odd display. It was ecstatic to see Little Bobby. It craned its neck back,
lifted its snout to the sky, and let out a sound like a bugle, which forced
everyone in the arena to plug their ears.
“When the cry ended it was replaced with
the swishing sounds of dozens of arrows flying through the air. I instinctively
dove to the ground pulling April with me. I covered my head with my hands just
as I heard the thwack, thwack, thwack of the arrows striking the Bashir. Most
of them bounced off their target, but a few found soft spots in the Bashir’s
otherwise impenetrable armor-like skin. It squealed. An odd sound for such a
brutish beast. Bobby stood stunned but unharmed.
“Carl and his soldiers stormed the
field, new arrows drawn and ready to fire. The Bashir turned to them and
snorted. It raised a fist and smashed the ground. The force of it knocked
several of his attackers off their feet, their arrows flying misguided throw
the air.
“The Bashir grabbed Little Bobby with
its other hand and placed himself between Bobby and the unfired arrows. Little
Bobby gagged. ‘Archie, help!’
“I bit my bottom lip. I hoped against
hope that he didn’t just call my name. Why me? Tank was bigger and closer.
Anyone but me. April nudged me. I rolled my eyes and slowly stood.
“‘Hey... Bashir,” I said.
“The grunting monster looked almost
puzzled by my attempt to communicate with him.
“‘Let him go.’ I wanted to laugh at my
own lack of leverage for Little Bobby’s release. How could I possibly convince
this obviously unthinking beast to release Bobby? I might as well have demanded
that it recite the Gettysburg Address in pig Latin.
“‘Bashirs don’t negotiate,’ Carl shouted
as he moved to a forward position.
“‘Yeah, I’m getting that.’ The Bashir
shifted its gaze between Carl and me. ‘Any ideas?’
“‘We kill it,” Carl said.
“‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Anyway you can do that
without hurting Bobby?’
“‘Probably, if we had time to formulate
a plan, but time is something we don’t have.’
“‘What do you mean?’
“‘I mean I’ve never heard that bugle cry
before. In fact, never heard a Bashir do anything more than grunt and squeak. I
got a feeling he just sent a message to his friends somewhere out there.’
“‘So?’
“‘So, I’m guessing the message is ‘Look
what I found.’
“I examined how the Bashir was holding
Bobby. I
two away. Just as I was about to give up and let the smasher do its thing, I
heard another scream. This one was not quite as high pitched as April’s but it
was a decent imitation. A glance to my right revealed Little Bobby screaming
his ever-loving head off. I could have kissed him.
“The Bashir did not have the same
reaction to Bobby’s screams as it did to Aprils. Instead of repulsing him, the
freak of nature was drawn in by Little Bobby’s screeching. In fact, it even
lost interest in me. It tilted its head and examined poor little stupid Bobby,
and Bobby was too dumb to stop screaming.
“‘Bobby,’ I said. ‘Stop.’
“But Little Bobby was screaming so loud
he couldn’t hear me. “‘Bobby...’
“Before I could plead with him to stop
again, the Bashir bolted toward Little Bobby. I frantically looked around for
something to stop it. I spotted a baseball size rock in the field, picked it up
and flung it at the Bashir. It hit the creature on the back of the head, but
didn’t seem to affect him at all. It stomped forward, drool hanging from its
clenched mouth. Little Bobby was about to be smashed to bits and there wasn’t
anything I could do about it. “‘Bobby,’ I yelled one more time.
“This time he stopped screaming, but it
was beyond too late at this point. The Bashir stopped and stood in front of
Little Bobby. It nodded its massive head frantically. A clacking noise emanated
from its throat. It circled Bobby. There was an unsettling sense of joy in its
odd display. It was ecstatic to see Little Bobby. It craned its neck back,
lifted its snout to the sky, and let out a sound like a bugle, which forced
everyone in the arena to plug their ears.
“When the cry ended it was replaced with
the swishing sounds of dozens of arrows flying through the air. I instinctively
dove to the ground pulling April with me. I covered my head with my hands just
as I heard the thwack, thwack, thwack of the arrows striking the Bashir. Most
of them bounced off their target, but a few found soft spots in the Bashir’s
otherwise impenetrable armor-like skin. It squealed. An odd sound for such a
brutish beast. Bobby stood stunned but unharmed.
“Carl and his soldiers stormed the
field, new arrows drawn and ready to fire. The Bashir turned to them and
snorted. It raised a fist and smashed the ground. The force of it knocked
several of his attackers off their feet, their arrows flying misguided throw
the air.
“The Bashir grabbed Little Bobby with
its other hand and placed himself between Bobby and the unfired arrows. Little
Bobby gagged. ‘Archie, help!’
“I bit my bottom lip. I hoped against
hope that he didn’t just call my name. Why me? Tank was bigger and closer.
Anyone but me. April nudged me. I rolled my eyes and slowly stood.
“‘Hey... Bashir,” I said.
“The grunting monster looked almost
puzzled by my attempt to communicate with him.
“‘Let him go.’ I wanted to laugh at my
own lack of leverage for Little Bobby’s release. How could I possibly convince
this obviously unthinking beast to release Bobby? I might as well have demanded
that it recite the Gettysburg Address in pig Latin.
“‘Bashirs don’t negotiate,’ Carl shouted
as he moved to a forward position.
“‘Yeah, I’m getting that.’ The Bashir
shifted its gaze between Carl and me. ‘Any ideas?’
“‘We kill it,” Carl said.
“‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Anyway you can do that
without hurting Bobby?’
“‘Probably, if we had time to formulate
a plan, but time is something we don’t have.’
“‘What do you mean?’
“‘I mean I’ve never heard that bugle cry
before. In fact, never heard a Bashir do anything more than grunt and squeak. I
got a feeling he just sent a message to his friends somewhere out there.’
“‘So?’
“‘So, I’m guessing the message is ‘Look
what I found.’
“I examined how the Bashir was holding
Bobby. I
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