“You're real?” David said.
The fairy hovered up and down, “Yes, Master.” Well that was good. In the dream, one of his fears had been about her seeing his real body as an enemy and attacking.
David needed a moment to compose himself. This wasn't a dream, the pain and the thirst that he was feeling kept reminding him that he was awake and that he really needed to get to a hospital.
You might want to get a move on. I really don't want to get fired. And you know, die.
This telepathy thing was going to get old and fast. David moved to the car and drank greedily from his supplies. Done, he moved to a cave wall and opened his pants.
Woah. What are you doing?
“What's it look like?” David asked. Relief washed over him as he emptied his bladder. It felt as if he hadn't taken a piss in days, and the release was so great that a tear ran from his eyes. “Aw God, that feels so good.”
God dammit. I have to live here. It’s like I pissed myself. At least aim it outside the cave.
David looked at his watch, “Shit, I've been here passed out for nearly thirty hours.” he didn't think that they would fire him for getting in an accident with a roo, let alone an alien monster, but he was sure that he was going to get a lecture from his supervisor for being unlucky.
Seeing his obvious pain, the fairy buzzed around his head. “I am sorry for not fixing you, Master. I did my best.”
He didn’t give a shit about the evil thing's guilt. After emptying his bladder, the wounded David winced and held his back. “Back's mangled. Blood and cuts everywhere and I think my right arm is fractured.”
Maybe we can get worker's comp.
Great minds must think alike because David was thinking just that. Feeling like he slipped a disk, the trouble shooter gave the Beast a look of pity. He had grown fond of the diesel guzzler. It had been an economic nightmare but it got him from point A to point B, it had also kicked Barney's mutant arse. “I've really got to get a doctor to have a look at me.” It wasn't crippling bad, but the unergonomic sleeping arrangement hadn't done David any favours. There were fewer bruises and scrapes than he had expected but his head still felt like it weighed a ton.
Any idea why we aren't freaking out more about this? I don't even know what this is.
David probably would have been thinking the same thing, but the stabbing pain in his arm, head, and back had slowed him down, “Don't know. Maybe it hasn't hit yet. Or maybe I'm psychotic and you're just a voice in my head telling me to kill people. Please don't by the way. I am not the type that would flourish in a prison environment.”
Why bother? The idiots calling up about putting their phone in the dishwasher would do a better job of it than I would.
David laughed. Yeah and those were the Einstein’s of the dickhead pool. He went to the car and cursed, “Crap.”
What?
David didn't answer. Instead he brushed the glass off his seat and tried the key. The Beast didn't so much as whimper. In his brain-dead haze, the trouble shooter had forgotten to close the door or turn the car off. In this enclosed space it had been a miracle that he hadn't died of monoxide poisoning, but that meant nothing as the battery was dead.
“Shit,” Both David’s said at once.
The fairy flew up to David's head, “What is it, Master?”
The fairies appearance was enough to make a full grown man shit himself. David swatted her away, “The battery is dead, damn it.”
Check the phone.
“Yeah yeah. I'm doing that.” David checked his phone, or would have if it had been on him. Not feeling it on him he looked back in the car. He had forgotten that he had left it on the charger. Praying hard, he let out a sigh as he discovered that only a single bar remained. The Beast was maybe dead for good but it hadn't totally let him down.
Seeing no reception, the computer monkey went outside and prayed again that technology hadn't let him down. The blazing sun struck David with full force. It had to be damn near 45 in the shade. He hadn't realised it but the cave had been super cold compared to the world outside.
He checked his phone and started walking until he found a signal. It took almost half an hour in the heat, and the flies, and the dust. There was no way that David could walk all the way back to town. Even if he was built like a basketball star, which he wasn't, no sane man would walk a hundred kilometres in this wretched environment.
He journeyed up a tortuous hill, hoping that he would find just one bar. Staring at his phone intensely, David was rewarded with a signal.
Seeing the first good news that he had for a long time, the trouble shooter cried, “Thank you. Thank you. Okay, okay. I'm not out of here yet.” The connection was choppy at best but somehow David had managed to give the operator what he hoped was his general location, but the road was long and most of it was dirt.
In a world of heat and dirt the trouble shooter felt his shirt become heavy as he sweated more into the fabric, all the while he shouted into the connection. Every second word that the operator spoke was static, but having spent nearly ten years listening to people bitch about stuff over the phone, David was eventually able to get the woman to track his GPS signal. He just hoped that he had been able to call in an emergency helicopter instead of accidentally ordering a pizza.
Give it up for Big Brother. Those conspiracy nuts can shout about being spied on all they wanted, but David was just happy to get out of there. Now all he had to do was stand in one spot until help arrived. He could do that, or that had been the plan until five minutes later when heatstroke nearly killed him.
He cursed himself for not buying a tent. He hadn't thought that he would be spending the night out in this godless wasteland but figured that he could have just slept in the truck if he did. There had to be at least an umbrella swimming around in his back seat.
Not wanting to lose the phone or the signal, the trouble shooter put the phone on the ground and slowly backed away as if he were dealing with a time bomb. He made it ten paces before his back played up. “Holy fucking God.” he cried as it felt like arsehat had shived him with a corkscrew.
The trouble shooter dropped to one knee and cried as the pain tore right through him. He limped back to the cave; every clumsy step feeling like it would be his last.
He stopped from nearly entering the mouth of the dungeon. David had played a lot of games in his time including one or two RPGs, but seeing a real dungeon in real life made him feel slightly disappointed. He had expected that it would look like a big giant skull, something really awesome or intimidating. Instead, the place was just a giant stone shed.
The thing looked as if it had been put together by a bunch of grad-students with a few bags of cement.
Feeling like he was just a pile of melting wax, David was about to step inside the shed when he noticed something peculiar about the dungeon exterior. On the outside the place looked no bigger than a shed that you used to put your lawnmower, but inside it was... bigger.
“No way,” David said as he got inside. The heat instantly dissipated and he was finally able to breathe. “Holy shit that's nice.”
What the fuck happened? The voice in his head shouted. You were gone for like an hour. I thought you. I mean, I died.
Out of shape since he was ten, David could hear the sounds of his own heavy breathing. He sounded like a diesel engine that had been shot. “It's a Tardis.”
What?
“The dungeon. Not shitting you. Bigger on the inside.”
Really? Nice. Shit, you look bad. Minion, you good for a zap?
The fairy looked to