Pumpking

Issue 27

14 hours without incident

After the shower I was feeling a little less mad. So what if I was having trouble hating Whisper, now I was clean and back in control. I would not be sleeping with him, thank you very much. I had too much self-respect.

I wrapped myself in a robe, trying to find some underwear that would be acceptable for sleeping in, since I didn't intend to hit the bed in the nude.

I had two thongs in my hand when I felt something snap like a rubber band along the veins of my power. At any moment, I could sense the creatures I had animated, the lives that I had brought to otherwise dead plants. Mostly their explosions were little more than a tickle to me; a small hiccough of noise in the back of my head, but this was like a stumbling coil of power detonating in comparison.

Bob.

I covered my mouth, senses stretching, searching for the giant pumpkin; but he was gone. Totally gone. Someone had killed Bob. Or Bob had detonated? My grip on the thong I was holding turned white. He had been like a favourite dog, a pet pumpkin, more realistically.

But he'd been so big! If he had detonated, half the city could have been taken out. I'd never thought about that—what if the killer had killed Bob? Could the chain reaction--- shit. Shit. Shit.

I picked up the phone.

"Room service, how can I help you?"

"Could you bring three whole, fresh pumpkins to my room?" I frowned, hoping it wasn't too weird a request.

The concierge didn't even pause, "Of course. Anything else?"

"No. Thanks."

I put the black thong on and grabbed the hero costume. There were a lot of things I was, but about to sit back and let others sort out a catastrophe of that size? Hell no.

I couldn't see fires in the distance, or anything massive to the size of the explosion I would expect, but maybe I was turned around; facing the wrong direction? I pulled on the long gloves, brushed out my hair and opened the door when the waiter appeared with three whole, fresh, untouched pumpkins.

"Thanks," I took them and closed the door, aware I must have looked pretty insane considering what I was wearing and what I had ordered so late at night.

I avoid using my powers; avoid them as much as I can. Being able to stimulate plants, put a consciousness inside plants; it's creepy. I never wanted to have these abilities; I didn't know what I had inherited when the symbiote came to me. I don't care about fame and fortune throughout the galaxy, or the adoration of agrarian planets—or whatever it was loved for. I had it here and the Hem'skaar was my burden, not gift. But right now, right now I needed to use it—I needed to know what had happened with Bob.

"Boss, boss, you look so beautiful right now, can you take some photos with us?"

"No. You three are going to make a carriage. I know it's tough, but I need to get across town."

"Carriage, right-o boss. Can I be the horses?" The smaller of the three volunteered up.

"Sure. Now, we're going downstairs and out the front door, no funny business you lot."

I picked them up awkwardly, and moved out, taking the emergency stairs because the elevator would have led past Ash's room and I wasn't sure I wanted to disturb him. What if Bob had detonated? What if half the city had been destroyed? Ash would have to take me in for keeping such a dangerous pumpkin a secret.

What sort of idiot kept a bomb like that as a pet? I'd been too sentimental to ever get rid of Bob. He'd been with me since I was sixteen, half the size of the damn house, a tamed shark. He was sweet and tender with me, but would shout abuse at the postman every morning if the poor man looked around at the house.

My neighbours had given up trying to engage him in conversation- he was always grouchy to everyone. And he kept crushing any other vegetables I tried to grow. But he was my Bob. The idea that he might have detonated.... God... all my neighbours and everyone who had the misfortune of living near me?

No. I couldn't think the worst- maybe... maybe he had just reached an expiry date? Ten years was a long time for a pumpkin.

I was panting by the time I hit the ground floor- it was a lot of stairs between me and there, and pumpkins are heavy. I spilled out into the lobby and hurried past the reception with a few stares. I was getting used to people staring at me tonight.

Outside I dropped the three pumpkins and pressed power into them, shaping and curling their essence in my mind. It was surprisingly easy to make a Cinderella style coach. Most of the effort I spent was in growing their sizes so it was not a miniature carriage I was making. I needed a little leg room.

It was stupid, running off in the middle of the night to a disaster zone. But I wasn't thinking clearly. The sheer destructive capability of Bob and all my innocent neighbours' mangled bodies was all I could think about. Red smoke in the sky and sirens wailing; apocalyptic images flashed through my mind.

The full weight of that thought was already crashing down on my mind and it robbed me of my judgement, robbed me of my capacity for intelligence. I just had to get there as soon as I could.

The pumpkin carriage finished. My three pumpkins had moulded and morphed into a giant wheeled vehicle pulled by probably the creepiest horse in the world.

I clambered inside the rough opening, pushing enlarged seeds out of my way and took a grip of the edge of the eye hole that the main body made. My carriage had no wheels, only a seat, round bouncy body and two ugly horses. The inside of the pumpkin was soft and spongey; a little gunky under my feet, where a few seeds clung to the middle husk.

"Go!" the pumpkin horses reared on their spindly viney legs and roared a challenge to the night. Then, the carriage pumpkin laid whip to the horse and we lurched forward, into the air.

Psychokinetic energy rolled off my fingers. I'd tried this once before, accidentally, floating on top of a watermelon.

The carriage jostled and wobbled and I wondered if I had put enough juice into it.

I was soaring through the night; the horses quickly breaking the speed limits as their vine-hooves blurred. I could have taken a taxi, but taxies get stopped by barricades, taxies are hard to escape. And if I had to fight, the carriage would be more than enough.

We roared down the main thoroughfare, above street lights, turning when the wind allowed, buffeted by the occasional burst of heat from the streets below. The carriage jostled lightly with every turn; the horse's eyes glowed with a fiery red, like beasts of carnage. I'm sure it wasn't the most comforting of images; black clothed woman riding a demonic pumpkin carriage above the Monaro highway; but I had bigger concerns tonight.

I kept an eye on the ground disappearing behind me; this was a really fast way to travel, but didn't have much room for turning or stopping suddenly.

I hit the outer-rim of Capita city with a slowing of the breakneck pace. The carriage rolled lightly but I kept my handholds and we quickly righted; vines twisting and entwining in a sharp manner with the action.

Oh God. The horizon was a smoky red. The damp smell of rain and ashes clogged my lungs quickly and we descended down, closer to the street. My whole suburb was on fire. I could tell even before the horse made the turn. It wasn't hard to tell- there was noise out here. Sirens screaming in the night; the rush of cars fleeing and approaching the scene.

A cold hard lump of guilt wrenched its way down my lungs and into my stomach. I had just let the Pantheon heroes lead me around without thinking about the things that I needed to do in my day-to-day life and as a result, I'd left Bob all alone.

The temperature hit me next, a wave of heat rolled from the streets; there were police cars blocking entrance to the inferno below, blocking entering traffic, but I was above the blockade. I road past and saw one man jumping on his radio.

One law broken tonight, I guess.

I had to, the weight of Bob's death throes was crushing me.