Part 11: Unraveled

The water of the port splashed among the coastline, as Marcus crunched the fried bamboo stalks.

“Man, that was a cool museum.”

“Knew you’d get a kick out of all the cool aboriginal stuff.” The Military and Colonial Museum was adding a new wing, dedicated to recent advancements brought upon by interdimensional travel. Oliver was hoping it’d be open in time, but it was still a cool experience as always. Marcus laughed.

“I still can’t believe you fought a war against emus and lost.”

“I thought you’d knew already. Everyone knows at this point.”

“I’ve seen some weird universes, but I thought that was a joke.” He laughed his usual belly-laugh. Oliver was surprised at the lack of people out today; it was a nice day. It must’ve just been that time in the afternoon. He gripped the little paper bag, which held a toy souvenir for Brett when he got home from daycare. Suddenly, Marcus grew serious for a moment.

“Hey, uhh, those old guns reminded me, I gotta… talk to you about something.”

“Of course.” Oliver looked at him as he fumbled with his words.

“So, uh, last night, your pizza… well, it really screwed with my stomach, all that grease.”

“Mine too.” Oliver looked out at the ocean, sighing. He really, really didn’t want to admit it. Perhaps creatures such as them really weren’t built to handle foods such as pizza. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, dude. I’m the one who put back half a pizza. Anyways, I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, because I had, y’know, a time bomb in my gut, and I saw your mom sitting in the kitchen, with this… well, terrifying look on her face. She was holding your dad’s old hunting shotgun.” Oliver went cold. He couldn’t tell if Marcus was serious or not, but he knew Marcus, and he didn’t seem like he was joking. “I asked her what was going on, and offered to help… and she said she saw someone lurking outside, and just told me to go back to bed.” A panic set in in the back of Oliver’s mind. The past few days were a break from reality, but perhaps their situation had caught up to them. Or worse, someone had showed up to hurt Mabel, or his mum, or Brett. His fingers dug into the edges of the paper bag. “Is this, like, a normal thing?”

“No.” Oliver paced back and forth. “What’d he look like?”

“She didn’t say, that was- dude, that was everything I saw. She said go back to bed, and I went back to bed…” Oliver sat in silence. She seemed fine on her way to work that morning. “Heh, when you’re mom’s pissed off, she’s straight-up terrifying, and that’s coming from a bear.”

“It doesn’t happen often.” Oliver had only seen that face once or twice, but he instantly knew the face Marcus was talking about. Why on earth hadn’t she woken him up, or told him anything at all?! Did she not want to worry him?! Did he not deserve to know these things?! He wondered if he was putting his family in danger just by his being there, but he knew he couldn’t leave them now. He picked up his phone to call her, but didn’t want to bother her at work, so he took a deep breath. He’d talk to her about this later and check up on her.

“On a lighter note, how’d your interview go?”

“Hm? Oh, er, it’s in a few days.”

“Sweet, dude. Yeah, I’m working on putting out applications, I just haven’t quite gotten around to it yet.”

“I get it, mate… Did you talk to Wing Guy about rent?”

“He’s not paying up.” Oliver rolled his eyes. “Pisses me off, man. After everything your mom’s done for us-”

“I mean, he’s just a lad. He doesn’t have any more money regardless-”

“Regardless. Mow a lawn or two. Sell the beebo!” Marcus exhaled though his nose. “I’m still doing whatever I can to help out and pay your mom rent for putting us up.”

“As am I.” Oliver knew she would try to not let them pay, and neither of them had much, but it was the very least they could do.

Oliver sipped his shake as he looked over at Marcus. Marcus glanced back at him with a smile. Oliver's eyes darted away, as they made eye contact just a second too long. Marcus snorted.

"Y'know, despite everything, all of it, I could get used to this place. I really could."

"I'm glad to hear it." There was a brief silence, as the two watched the rhythm of the waves. Marcus opened his mouth, so as to say something, but was interrupted.

"Excuse me, fellas," A tall, dark human with a pair of sunglasses, a short beard, and dreadlocks tied into a ponytail walked up to the duo. He looked around like a confused tourist, giving an awkward smile. "Any chance you two know the nearest place with a bathroom?” Oliver turned around with a friendly smile.

“There’s a seafood restaurant right down that way, past the white post over there, they’ve got one.” He smiled.

“Thanks.” He pulled down his pair of sunnies, as a bright, blinding bolt of red light emerged from his eye. The paralysis ray struck Oliver and Marcus, as they fell to the ground, the dizzying blast numbing their entire bodies and overloading their senses. The man calmly folded up his sunglasses and took off his hoodie, revealing a network of complex and high-level cybernetics. Upon regaining his vision, Oliver recognized him as the man from the attacks on the Sector 7465 gate. Marcus convulsed on the ground next to him.

“You like the new upgrades?” Oliver quickly lost consciousness as the guy effortlessly slung him and Marcus over each of his shoulders with mechanical strength.

Oliver came to in a dark, cramped place. He couldn’t move, and a rag of some sort was stuffed into his mouth. He began to panic and struggle in vain, as did the panda next to him.

After what felt like an eternity, the trunk finally opened up. Light poured into the boot of the car, as before they could adjust, their kidnapper dragged them out of the trunk, the pair struggling to break free. The zipties pressed against the fur on their wrists, leaving an indentation. The two laid side by side, as he cut Marcus’ gag, then Oliver’s.

“You know, you’re actually much easier to track than you might think.”

“Let us go, asshole!” Marcus growled as Oliver looked around, the situation sinking in. The golden sun was setting, and the scarlet dirt and dried brush surrounded them for kilometers.

“Go ahead. Scream. Nobody out here that’s gonna hear you.” He looked at the duo with a cold, sadistic smile, his cybernetic eye glowing a terrifying red. “You’re in the outback, mate.” He affected a mocking aussie accent as he spoke. It began to set in for Oliver. This wasn’t a ransom situation, akin to the Wing Guy. They were being executed.  Plain and simple.

“What’s going on here? Who sent you? Please, we can work this out!” The man threw his long, coiling dreadlocks over his shoulder.

“Who sent me?… Oh, this ain’t work related. I’m off the clock.” He fiddled around with a toolbox full of brutal-looking tools, just out of reach. “I came out here for blood.” He adjusted a grip strength monitor and slid it into a notch on his cybernetic hand. Oliver screamed.

“If this is about your dead lizard buddy and your eye, you had no one to blame for that but yourself! You attacked us first!” Marcus raised his voice, as the cyborg stood silently, calibrating his cybernetics.

“Hold still.” He grabbed Oliver’s stubby, little neck with his bionic hand, choking every last breath of air out of him. Oliver desperately punched and kicked, but he may as well have been a teddy bear trying to fight a man made of metal. He silently looked at the struggling koala with emotionless eyes, watching the PSI counter carefully increase one number at a time, looking to see which number would finally be the one to do it. Oliver’s pink skin underneath his fur turned a deep aubergine, as he tried in vain to pry the mechanical hand away from his throat.

“Shhh, easy now, little man.” The strained, guttural wheezes grew weaker and weaker, as the life drained from Oliver.

“That’s enough!!! Let him go!!! Let him go!!!” He ignored the pleading panda as Oliver fruitlessly fought with the last of his energy. “Kill me!!!” The man turned around, holding Oliver in the air. “If you’re gonna kill anyone… kill me first. I’m the one who took your eye.” The towering human threw the koala to the ground, who let out a strained, wheezing gasp. He stood in front of the bound panda, standing him up on his knees with an intrigued smile.

“That’s exactly what I figured you’d say.” His cold eyes suddenly filled with a burning rage, as he struck Marcus with his metal fist. Blood, saliva, and teeth flew out of Marcus’ mouth, as the mercenary struck him with another blow. He bludgeoned the panda with punch after punch, striking him over and over in the face and gut with the force of a truck. His bones cracked under the weight of his strikes, as his stitches tore open. He grunted as anger and wrath filled him. Oliver tried to scream and protest, but he struggled for air, his vocal cords like a wrung-out sponge. Marcus sat on the dried, red Outback soil, a battered heap, groaning in agony.

“I pulled you out of those enforcers’ grasp, preserved your existence for the sole purpose of finishing you off, out here, with my own hands!!!” His voice was guttural, and burning wrath incarnate. “You could’ve been something, Bo Shuo!!! You had the ability to be someone great, to be powerful!!! Yet here you are wasting your life playing in the dirt and delivering pizzas!!!” He grabbed the panda by his shirt collar, which tore in his grip.

“I-” Another blow struck him square in the jaw. Sweat dripped down his face, and beaded up on his long, coiling locks.

“You had the nerve to rob the world of the you that was a hundred thousand times the you you'll ever be!!! You… you disgust me, inferior!!!” Oliver helplessly watched on in terror as Marcus struggled.

“Who the… hhghhh… are you…”

“I WAS YOUR FRIEND!!!” The cyborg stood, panting and delirious. His eye glowed with fiery intensity as the Outback surrounded them, the only sound for kilometers being the three of them. His breathing grew shaky, as Marcus caught his breath, the right half of his face swollen and battered. Marcus looked into his eyes and saw a visceral kind of pain, one which he had known all too well. He thought back to the chaos of that day, to the battlefield. To watching himself die. His mangled, bionic hands were balled up into tight fists. Marcus’ voice grew soft in between breaths, as he spit out another fang.

“This isn’t… about me, man…” His intense face looked down, as the red light poured out from his winding dreadlocks.

“I don’t care.” He wound up, ready to land a fatal blow, but hesitated, his dented knuckles sparking. Marcus coughed.

“Killing us… hghhh… won’t bring… hhh… won’t bring anyone back…” He looked weakly into the same eyes, which thousands had seen in their final moments.

“You dare lecture me?! You’re the ones who cut him down that day!!!”

“Sorry man… we were just trying… hhhghh… deliver a pizza…you don’t have t-”

“'Sorry maaan'! Don’t try to act like him. You’re not him, Bo Shuo! You’re not even worthy of that name!”

“That’s what I… hnghhhh… tried to… I’m not him, man…” The panda adjusted his posture, struggling against the zipties, and sat up. “I’m Marcus.” The bionic assassin visibly grappled with his emotions; he had to do what he came all the way out here for. He had to avenge his one true friend, otherwise their bond meant nothing. Yet, here he sat in front of him. Not him, but his alternate who spoke just like him. Oliver and Marcus watched on, helplessly. At any moment, he could kill them without hesitation. Marcus steeled his resolve through heavy breaths, dirt and blood matted into his clothes. One eye was swollen shut, the other shone with a mix of fear and compassion through his black fur.

“Heh… you must’ve really loved him… to come all the way out here… just to kill us.”

“Shut up.” The coldness returned to his face.

“…What’s your name, man?” The assassin unholstered a massive handgun, the kind that could stop an armored vehicle in its tracks with a single shot, and crammed it into the panda’s mouth, pressing his head to the ground. He held him there for several seconds, dead silent, like a lion standing over a wounded antelope. Marcus looked him in the eyes, not breaking focus. The gun shook, as the human slowly pulled it away and pulled back. He turned away, looking out at the horizon, his shoulders sinking, not knowing what to do. After what felt like an eternity, he turned back to the panda.

“Le Rook. Cyrus Le Rook.”

“Cyrus… that’s a cool name… wish I could shake your hand, but… you kinda tied them up… What do you say, man?” Oliver shook as the bounty hunter looked back and forth, between the panda and the koala, carefully deciding between cleaning up another mess and sparing the former delivery guys. He rubbed his face with his mechanical hand, before holstering his shaking gun. He sat down on the dusty earth, looking his captives in the eye, before shaking his head.

“The hell kind of a name is Marcus?”

Marcus stood on the night bus, with tissues packed into his bleeding nose. All of their healing injuries from their perilous escape were worse now, and the giant panda was barely recognizable. The driver kept glancing back at the battered duo in the rear-view mirror, mildly concerned yet overall disinterested. The two quietly sat in the back, their near silence only being filled by the rumble of the bus’ motor.

“…At least he was nice enough to give us our things back and give us a ride to the bus station…”

“I would’ve rather he just shot me, dude. That was the most awkward car ride of my life.” He half-chuckled before wincing in pain. “Aagh! Dammit… mphh… why do these sorta things always end with me getting hurt?”

Oliver looked out at the night, the streetlights rhythmically passing them on the highway, as the blurry stars gazed back at him in the indigo sky. Once again, they shouldn’t’ve been alive. He couldn't help but wonder if it really was just luck, or if there really was a God out there, keeping him alive for some reason. Oliver checked the time on his cracked phone screen.

“Iris is probably home by now.” Despite their current circumstances, Oliver felt bad about missing her gig that evening. Still, he had more pressing things to worry about. He knew she’d understand.

By the time they got back home and finally walked in the door, it was the middle of the night. The alcohol stung as Candace dabbed it onto Marcus’ swollen face.

“Sorry.” She reached in and grabbed some gauze as she patched the bear up. “Here, lay down on the towel.” Her eyes were focused, yet scared as she pored over her son and his friends’ injuries in the bathroom at one in the morning.

“Jesus, that one’s gotta be killing you! Thank God you’re both alive.” Marcus bit the towel as she applied more rubbing alcohol. “Did you get a good description of the blokes who beat you up?”

“Yeah, we’ve talked to the police already,” Oliver said, glancing at the wall. His concussion felt more excruciating than ever after being throttled by someone twice his size. Candace narrowed her eyes. She shined the flashlight on her phone into his eyes, one by one, as his pupils narrowed normally.

“Was there anyone back in Mobius who might’ve wanted to hurt you?” She propped Marcus up as she gently preened through the fur on her son’s neck. Oliver fidgeted.

“Not that I know of.”

“You’d tell me if there was, right?” Oliver hesitated. The last thing he wanted was to rope her into all of this. He’d tried so desperately to avoid this situation, pushed it to the very back of his mind when he’d decided to come here, and again with the guy in the lawn, yet he’d led them right here. That was now undeniable.

“There… might’ve been one. I don’t know…” He averted her gaze as she looked down. “It’s a long story.”

“Why would this person want to hurt you, Oliver?”

“We got caught up in something a while back with a Marcus from a different universe... one who wasn’t like ours, and he was his friend or something…” She nodded, seeing the fear and pain in her son’s face as she gently combed through his fur, concealing her own fear and shock.  “He’s gone now, I swear.”

“What matters is you’re both safe.” Oliver put his hands in his face.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I’m your mother, it’s my job to worry about you, you git.”

“It’s fine, sorry, I just… we’ll- we’ll head out tomorrow morning, we’ll-”

“No. You’re not going anywhere.” Oliver looked surprised.

“But-”

“I told you, this is your home. You’re always welcome here, no matter what, and you’re always safe here. No one’s going to force you to leave it. Same goes for Marcus. Same goes for the other kid. Alright?” Her voice was slow and serious. She had that look on her face, the kind that Marcus had seen last night. The kind of eyes which said, ‘I’ve already buried your dad, I’m not burying anyone else within these walls.’ Oliver shakily exhaled through his nose. “Just tell me these things. That’s all I ever ask, is that you tell me these things when they happen so we can avoid this.” She hugged him, careful to avoid his injuries. “You should get some rest. Love you lots.”

“Thanks mum… love you too.”

“Thanks, Mrs. H- er, Candace,” Marcus said, half-conscious.”

After checking them over two to three more times, and carefully dressing every wound, the accountant turned impromptu doctor washed her hands. They helped Marcus to bed together- no small feat for the small-statured, even with the two of them, before  she nuzzled Oliver on the top of his head.

"You alright?"

"Yeah... sorry... night mum."

As she gently closed the door, Oliver perked up his ear, as he listened through the doorway. He heard his mother creak the door shut and exhale, her calming bravado reduced to fatigue and tears the second she sunk onto the chair. Oliver shook his head as he sat on his bed. Why did he always seem to hurt the people he loved? He curled up on the bed, swallowing his anguish. They were safe now. Tomorrow was a new day.

Oliver sat patiently the following day, waiting as the phone rang. Iris should’ve been getting out of work right about now. After several rings, a familiar voice picked up.

“Hey.”

“Hey babe, how was Hervey Bay?”

“Good. Lots of people.” The koala nervously tapped on the bed.

“Sorry I missed it. I wanted more than anything to come-”

“It’s fine.” Her voice was dismissive.

“Marcus got roughed up last night, had to make sure he was alright.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, just a couple of little bumps and bruises.” Oliver knew that was the understatement of the century, but he wasn’t about to tell his girlfriend they got kidnapped, and that Marcus was beaten within an inch of his life. There was no way that would end well.

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Nothing major, just took him to get looked at.” It was a flimsy excuse. His posture sunk. “I wish I could’ve heard it… there’s always next time.”

“I just- you knew how much this meant to me.”

“Sorry.”

“Like, this was my biggest gig yet. This could’ve been the big break I needed to be able to leave the coffee shop, and like, I was just so excited because I thought you’d be able to make it after all.”

“I know, I tried. I really did, but we didn’t get home until the middle of the night.”

“For a couple of bumps and bruises, really? If you didn’t want to come, you could’ve just told me.” The frustration in her voice was palpable.

“I, er-”

“I wrote a song for you.”

“You… you did?” Oliver was taken aback.

“I wanted you to be there to hear it when I played it for the first time, and I wasn’t going to play it but I did it anyways, since I can’t keep waiting for you to be there for me for once.”

“For once?”

“I’m sorry, where have you been for the past… how long now? Did you forget? Sure you’re not some ‘other version’ of Oliver?!”

“You’re right, no, I’m sorry for having a life.”

“A life delivering pizzas that you decided was more important than me, and by the way, you got sacked from.”

“You think that maybe I wasn’t busting my ass in Mobius for both of us?!”

“No, I’m starting to think you weren’t.”  Oliver’s fluffy ears went flat. She’d been supportive about it when he’d left. She’d agreed to this. She never had an issue with it the entire time he was there or when he came back to Australia, but now all of the sudden, it was an issue. This was news to him. A brief silence followed, with a tension that could be cut with a knife, before Iris spoke. “You sure seem to spend a lot of time around Marcus. Dropping everything just to be with him over a few minor scrapes. Makes me wonder.”

“You’re not seriously implying what I think you’re implying.”

“I’m not implying anything, I’m just telling you what I’m seeing.” Oliver scoffed incredulously. He didn’t know why she was bringing his sexuality of all things into this, especially when he would never bring up anything irrelevant like her learning disability or her giant feet which she hated so much. Wait, how silly of him. He’d forgot that, because he was bi, he wasn’t allowed to have male OR female friends. Just Iris. That’s all it was ever about, was Iris.

“I mean, you spend a lot of time around all your friends as well, since you so badly need the constant attention. Jeremy, Marcie, Na-”

“Before I ran into him, I hadn’t talked to him in months! Stop being ridiculous!”

“Nadine… I could go on, I really could if you want me to.”

“I’m trying to tell you that you put everything before me, and you’re not listening! You never listen!”

“It’s hard to listen when you go on and on about the most banal things, and I’m sitting there-”

“Banal?!”

“Let me finish! I’m always sitting there, going, ‘uh huh, wow, that’s crazy-’”

“You’re doing it again right now!”

“And yet here you are not listening when I said that Marcus got badly beaten up, and that’s maybe more impor-”

“You didn’t say he got badly beaten up, you said he had a few bumps and bruises and that he was fine! You never tell me these things!”

“What difference would it have made?! Tell me, right now. Tell me.”

“Forget it, midget.” Click. She hung up the phone, as Oliver slammed the phone down onto the nightstand, further cracking the screen. Bye, love you too. He kicked his bed in frustration. He might’ve been an ass about it, sure, but so was she. She was always starting or getting wrapped up in some new stupid drama, because she was like a black hole but for attention. She was probably going to go on Instagram and post a black screen, or a picture of her crying with some melodramatic caption within the next couple of minutes. The silence in the small, cramped bedroom was deafening. The old clock in the bedroom loudly ticked away. Tick tick tick tick tick… it was driving him mad. He needed space. He flung open his door and stormed out. Mabel poked her head out of her bedroom door.

“You alright?”

“Fine.” He made a beeline for the front door and went outside for a long walk to try and cool off in the Australian heat.