The Hunt for Dark Infinity
Page 17Tick felt it was his turn. “Sir, we’re, uh, like my friend said—we’re lost. We’re not familiar with this . . . place. Where are we? Where are all the houses and buildings and people?”
The man folded his arms, a smile spreading across his face; he had a huge gap between his two front teeth. “Boy, you must be dumber ‘an roadkill in math class. You hear what I’m sayin’?”
Tick shook his head, trying to look as confused as possible—which wasn’t hard.
The man stepped forward. “Boy, you is standin’ on the Roofens.” He pointed down to the ground with exaggerated enthusiasm. “All the people is down there.”
Chapter
11
Below the Roofens
Tick looked at his feet, almost expecting to see little fairies running around to avoid being squished. But of course all he saw were his shoes and a thin crack on the stone road.
“Down there?” he asked.
The man made a noise somewhere deep in this throat, a cross between a cough and the clearing of phlegm. “I reckon that’s what I said, ain’t it? Who in the guppy-guts are you people?”
Tick fumbled for words, glad Sofia spoke up first. “We’re just up here exploring, that’s all. Of course we know what the Roofens are and that we’re standing on them.” She gave Tick an annoyed look. “That we’re on top of the buildings.”
“Ain’t usin’ dem brains a’yorn too much up here, wanderin’ ’round like three hillbillies lookin’ for moonshine. No, ma’am, ain’t too smart.” The man leaned over and spat something dark and disgusting on the road.
“My name’s Sofia, and this is my friend, Tick.” She gestured with her thumb. “And this is Paul. To tell you the truth, we are really lost, and kind of hungry and cold.”
Paul spoke for the first time since the appearance of the strange man. “Is Sally your wife?”
The man laughed, a guffaw that hit the mist with a dull thump. “My wife? Boy, I ain’t got me no wife. You’re lookin’ at him.”
Tick was confused. “What do you mean?”
“Boy, what you mean, what I mean?”
“He means, what do you mean?” Sofia said, her voice returning to its normal arrogance.
The lumberjack threw his arms up in the air. “Feel like I’m talkin’ to kai-yotes who done got their ears chopped off. I’m tellin’ ya that yer lookin’ at Sally, and you best not say a word about it.”
“Your name is Sally?” Tick asked.
“Sally T. Jones, at yer service.” He bowed, sweeping his arms wide, then righting himself. His face had reddened from the blood rushing to his head; it matched his beard. “Named after my grandpappy, who was named after his grandpappy. See, Sally’s short for Sallivent, a name older than expired dirt, ya hear?”
“We hear,” Sofia said. “You have a woman’s name.”
Tick elbowed his friend. “Be nice,” he whispered.
“I like it,” Paul said. “Beats the heck out of being named Princess or Barbie, right?”
Sally gave Paul a confused look. “I’ll eat my own dandruff if you ain’t the strangest group of chirrun I ever done seen.”
Sally squinted in disbelief. “Chirrun. Ya know—you’s a kid, a child. More than one of ya—chirrun.”
“I think he means children,” Sofia said.
Sally took a step to the side, then motioned around the back of the metal block. “You kids wanna come back with me? Get ya sumthin’ to fill dem tummies?”
“Where’d you come from?” Paul asked, leaning to get a look around the metal wall. “Is there seriously a whole city under us? Under these roofs?”
“Like I said, boy, we standin’ on the Roofens. Probably done shaved purtin’ near six months off your life stayin’ out chere for so long. Dis dirty air’ll eat yer innards quicker than a beaver on balsa wood.”
“What’s wrong with the air?” Tick asked.
Sally did his funny squint again. “I reckon you folks ain’t lyin’ when you says yer lost. These parts ’bout as polluted as my granny’s toenails. Why do you think they built dem cities under all this here metal?”
“Why’d you come up here, then?” Sofia asked.
Sally paused, his eyes darting back and forth. “I, uh, well, ya see, the thing is . . .” He scratched his beard. “See, I done heard yer little twitter feet up on my ceilin’ there, so I come up to do some investigatin’. Yep, that’s what I reckon, far as I recall.”
Tick exchanged a baffled look with Sofia and Paul. It didn’t take a genius to realize they’d already caught Sally in his first lie.
“Well,” Tick said, “we need a minute to talk about what we’re gonna do.”
“Go on, then,” Sally said. “I ain’t got a mind to bother dem there bid’ness and matter, such as it were.”
Tick quickly grabbed his friend by the shoulders and turned him away from Sally, pulling him into a huddle with Sofia.
“So what do we do?” Tick whispered.
“That guy’s something else, ain’t he?” Paul asked. “I can barely understand a word he says.”
“I’m already getting used to it,” Sofia said. “If you ignore every third word or so, it makes perfect sense.”
“But what do we do?” Tick insisted.
“What else?” Paul said. “Go with this dude and get something to eat.”
“How do we know he’s safe?” Tick asked.
“Dude, get off the sissy train. There are three of us and one of him.”
“He seems perfectly harmless,” Sofia said. “I vote we go with him. We can’t walk around up here for the rest of our lives.”
“Plus,” Paul said, “he said this air’s really polluted. I’m not real cool on the whole lung-cancer thing. Let’s do it.”
Sofia nodded. “I’m dying to see what’s down there.”