A Thief's Tale-KSS-Part 3

Needless to say, we weren’t having the best of luck.

When I hit the ground, it wasn’t pretty. The chest that had snagged my cape hit the ground first; and immediately after that, my back slammed into it. A surge of pain seemed to rattle my bones, setting fire to every last one of my nerves. I nearly blacked out, but somehow, I was able to hold on. Maybe it was luck; maybe it was adrenaline; whatever it was, it didn’t stop me from feeling like I had been hit by a truck.

I groaned, thinking that the worst was over, but then Storo’s massive bulk slammed full force into the ground. The resulted shock wave forced everything into the air a few inches, then back down... which for me, resulted in slamming my already-bruised back against the chest again. Yeah, not exactly what I had envisioned; I thought my demise would’ve been much more instant… but nope: I had to die the hard way…

(Okay, okay, I didn’t really die [which is obvious, because if I had, I wouldn’t be here telling you this story… which I am]... but damn, it sure felt like it.)

Amidst the sight of squeakers ricocheting off the floor like tennis balls, I managed to catch sight of Doc streaking down like a comet. He had this look on his face that made me think that he was going to have a heart attack long before he hit the ground. The lucky fellow bounced off of Storo’s stomach (which is kind of funny when you think about it, actually), then landed on the ground, unharmed. (Heh, good thing Storo was there, because if he hadn’t been, Doc probably would’ve been up Deep-Crap-Creak with only a fork to paddle with.)

By this point, Storo himself was smart enough to actually sit up, and he caught Spinni before he hit the ground. Spinni was still screaming his head off, which began to irritate me, but eventually he got the idea that he wasn’t plunging to his doom anymore, and shut up. All of us took a moment to regain our composure; a couple squeakers still raining down on the scene.

“Th-th-that,” Spinni finally stuttered, trembling enough to make him look like some sort of cat toy, “was the most terrifying thing I think has ever happened to me… I thought I was gonna die, and…”

“Easy for you to say,” I groaned from my not-so-comfy landing pad, slowly pulling myself up into a sitting position, “you had a safety net.” As if on cue, Sunny bounced off of my head, knocking me off balance and back onto… well, my back. I gave up trying to sit, but slid down the curve of the chest’s lid and onto my feet. This turned out to be a bad idea, because I soon found myself face first on the ground.

“Apparently, our heist isn’t going as planned,” I started, painfully standing up and yanking my cape off of the box corner it had snagged.

“What gave you that idea?” a voice sarcastically asked.

“Don’t back sass me, squeaker!” I snapped, glaring down at the pudgy blue blob that decided to mouth off.  The squeaker gulped, then shrank back a bit at my gaze.

“I told you that chest was a bad idea, Daroach,” Doc’s voice scolded. This caused arguments to rise amongst the crowd; I growled and glared at him with fierce intensity as he continued over the din. “Look what you’ve gotten us into! Instead of getting the loot back to base, you nearly killed us all!”

“Look, Doc,” I snarled, thoroughly pissed off by his stinginess, “don’t get me started on nearly getting killed. It’s easier for you to say; I was the first to hit the ground, and I didn’t even hit dirt! I hit a chest; you bounced off of Storo…” I growled a bit and tried to calm myself down. “And there’s nothing we can do about the situation right now…” I gazed up at the sky; a bright blue line against the dark purples of the chasm walls. “…but if we want out of here with our treasure, we’re not going to succeed by arguing.”

“Well, unless squeaks can fly, we’re not getting out anytime soon!” Sunny wailed.

“I’m aware of that, squeaker,” I said calmly, not once looking at her. I was following its twisted path, hoping it would point to the right direction… then, an idea struck me. “We’ll follow the sky,” I said, still not looking back down, “This chasm has to end somewhere…”

“Ha,” someone laughed, “we all have a better chance of sprouting wings and…”

“Would you all just calm down?!” Spinni finally snapped. I did a double take, and he continued. “Look, in some ways, you’re all right; we aren’t going to get up out of the chasm the same way we got in; but Daroach knows what he’s doing, and he’s gonna get us out of here! Sure he made a mistake, but he’s gonna fix it. There’s a reason that he’s the leader…”

Everything was then silent. I blinked, then looked out at the team. None of them were angry; none of them were fighting; they were all looking back at me with a lost look in their eyes, as if asking me to do something. A stab of guilt jolted through me, and my mood quickly changed to determination. I needed to take control again; this was my responsibility.

You’re the leader, Daroach, I told myself as I pulled the brim of my hat back down on my head, so lead.

“Someone help Storo with the chests,” I instructed. “Let’s move out.”

~*~

If someone would’ve looked down into the chasm at the time (thank god no one did), they would’ve seen quite a sight: large, sparkling objects, carried and escorted by a multicolored bunch of mice, some bouncing along like acrobats; all heading the same direction. We looked like a circus parade, complete with our own strong man, caped magician, and parade floats. (Feel free to make your own clown joke here, because heaven knows I’m not going to.)

The irony of this is that this ‘parade’ was really a band of thieves being led on an unplanned nature hike; trudging along with solemn faces, as if taking part in a funeral march. I had to float along because my injuries had left me unable to truly walk, but there was no way I was going to have someone assist me. I was the leader; leaders did not show any sign of weakness; especially not when their team so desperately needed fortitude.

Most of the time, I looked up ahead at the sky. Most of the team probably thought that I was just following its winding path; making sure we were on the right track to potential freedom. True, I was doing that, but mainly…

“It looks like a river,” a voice beside me said. I looked down to find a blue squeaker; the same one that had mouthed off to me earlier; bouncing along right beside me. I wanted to tell him to get lost, but a voice in the back of my mind reminded me that he was part of the team too, and I settled on a sigh.

“I kinda see it as a promise,” I suggested, returning my gaze to the sky. “No matter where in this blasted place we’ve been so far, it’s still there for us…”

“Even though we don’t deserve being stuck down here.”

“To us, we don’t, but to other people, we do… and in a way, yeah: we deserve it.” (I ignored the annoyed look on his face.) “But the sky doesn’t judge,” I said, gesturing to the heavens above, “it shines just as bright for us as it does for everyone else.”

“So to you, the sky is hope?” he asked. I paused, and thought over this for a moment.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “in a way…”

We were quiet for a few seconds, just staring at the blue beacon of hope above us, then the squeaker spoke again.

“Hey… about deserving being stuck down here… what about that Kirby guy? Does he deserve being stuck down here like we are?”

Every muscle in my body went tense. That had to be the one detail I had forgotten about. I cursed under my breath, smacking a palm against my forehead in a gesture of annoyance. “ I forgot about that little pink…”

“Kirby?!” Spinni’s loud, almost irritating voice rang out. “He’s down here?!”

A string of murmurs rippled throughout the crowd, and a few squeaks glanced over their shoulders; as if they were afraid that the very guy was right behind them, ready to take revenge for his shortcake. (To be honest, I didn’t consider him very intimidating, and it took all of the self-control I had not to call them morons at their panic.)

“Look guys,” I said, rubbing my temple, “even if he is following us, we have nothing to worry about. All we have to do if we do confront him is make sure that if he was planning on following us, he won’t stay on our trail. Catch my drift?”

All of the murmuring stopped. Visually, I could almost see the ideas and plans forming in their heads. Even Storo (who’s usually very slow on things like this) seemed to immediately get the general idea, and he huffed out a low, deep laugh.

“Huh, huh, huh… Storo smash Kirby,” he declared, grinning evilly and lightly punching his fist into the palm of his other hand.

“Easy, big guy,” I said coolly, “remember our morals; we don’t kill anyone unless absolutely necessary. But, we could shake him up a bit, I suppose… teach him what it’s like when you mess with a Squeak…”