Doom Patrol #11 - The Song of Love (Part 11)

The silence of the Colombian forests are disturbed by the sound of a tired engine and cracking twigs as the van meanders slowly down the dirt track road. From inside, Larry tries the best he can to steer the thing away from the ditches at either side of the road as he squints to look ahead.

 

Larry: You’re sure it’s down here?

 

Morden: Positive.

 

To the side of him, Eric leans forwards and observes the passing trees with the eyes of a small child on Christmas morning. He wipes his brow with his arm.

 

Morden: We passed a load of trees coming out. It can’t be far from here, I’m sure of it.

 

Larry: Well you let me know if you see any tree that looks familiar, okay?

 

Morden: Sure thing bo-Larry.

 

Behind them, Cliff sits perched on his seat eagerly listening to Rita, sat opposite him with a glowing expression. Any hostility obviously taking a break for the time being.

 

Rita: So I go in, and there’s me, Basil and this girl called Tammy. All very proper, thinks herself the next big thing.

 

Cliff: Uh-huh.

 

Rita: And the panel ask us to all come up one by one, stand on the spot and tell them something that makes us happy and something we fear. Do you follow?

 

Cliff: Yeah.

 

Rita: And Tammy of course decides she’ll go first, so up so goes and – Cliff, do tell me if I’m boring you?

 

Cliff’s head begins nod, but he catches himself and sits back with a start.

 

Cliff: Huh? No, no way.

 

Rita: What was I just saying?

 

Cliff: Actin’.

 

Rita: Acting. And?

 

Cliff: Uh… Tommy-

 

Rita: Tammy.

 

Cliff: Tammy was just about to… uh… to do actin’, or somethin’?

 

Rita: Are you asking me or telling me?

 

Cliff: …asking you?

 

Rita: Cliff, if you’re going to pretend to take an interest in my life, at least have the decency to-

 

But she’s cut off by Larry raising a hand to them from up front and the van slowing to a halt. She and Cliff turn to look at him, but before they can speak he brings a finger to his bandaged mouth to silence them. Cliff looks around restlessly and shrugs at him. Larry, still silent, brings his other hand to his ear and points outside. They listen for a moment, each staring out the windows, before Eric adjusts himself and speaks up in a nervous whisper.

 

Morden: What is it?

 

Larry: There’s someone out there.

 

Eric swallows and turns an alarmingly pale shade of white. Cliff ignores this and leans in to face him.

 

Cliff: If this has got somethin’ to do with you…

 

Morden: It hasn’t! I promise! I don’t know what’s going on.

 

They all look at each other for a second, basking in the glorious tension of the unknown.

 

Rita: Maybe it was a deer?

 

Larry: I don’t think you get deer in Colombia…

 

Morden: Oh no, I think you-

 

A rock smashes through the back window and thuds onto the carpet. For the briefest of moments there is calm, before the sounds of manic shouting fill the air around the van and Larry dives out of his seat.

 

Larry: GET DOWN!

 

Another projectile smashes into the front windscreen but fails to break it. Eric falls backwards off his seat and squeals as he hits the ground head first. Cliff and Rita get to their feet but dive for cover as something hits the roof and sends a loud bang echoing through the van.

 

The next few moments happen in a blur – Cliff struggles back to his feet as the door of the van is ripped open and a ragged, branch of a man dives in headfirst wielding a homemade spear. He goes to grab Cliff but is met with a robotic fist to the jaw. He falls backwards out the van as voices ring out from outside.

 

Voice: Protect the Idol! Protect him!

 

Rita grabs a hold of the window ledge and pulls herself up, but gasps as she notices two figures emerge from the undergrowth wielding spears and weighing up stones in their filthy hands. She attempts to make out who – or what – they are, but underneath their torn, faded clothing they could be anything. She can’t be sure, but it looks like one of them is wearing the worn remains of a Hawaiian shirt.

 

Rita: They look like crackheads!

 

Cliff: They are fuckin’ crackheads!

 

Cliff yells as another set of hands appear in the doorway and pull him outside. There is movement in the van and for a minute Rita thinks Larry has been knocked out, before she breathes a sigh of relief and watches as the Negative Spirit climbs out of his torso and darts for the door. It strikes Cliff’s attacker and he collapses backwards into the ditch. She goes to the door to look for Cliff, but shrieks as a stone flies through the window behind her and strikes her in the back of the head.

 

Rita trips down the step and lands on the dirty ground. All around her, emerging from the trees, are scatty, bedraggled figures, erratic in their movements and shouting unintelligible words at each other. She makes out about five of them before she notices Cliff, struggling as two more of the attackers attempt to restrain him. Overheard she sees the Spirit rear up and disappear around the other side of the van to the sound of more unintelligible shouting.

 

Voice: What is that thing?!

 

Voice: Forget it! We have the Idol! Protect him! Protect him!

 

She lifts her head off the ground as the figures surrounding Cliff produce a crude net and throw it over his head. She goes to shout, but is knocked back to the ground as another assailant tramples over her and goes inside the van.

 

Voice: There are more! More heathens!

 

Voice: Leave them! Protect the Idol!

 

She hears a groan from inside and watches in horror as Larry’s unconscious body is thrown across the interior of the van. The Spirit emerges from the other side and launches itself back into him, throwing Larry’s attacker off balance and sending them running back over her body and outside. She manages to pull herself up, noticing the skin on her arms beginning to melt, but regrets it as the man who had been inside the van turns and looks at her with wide, bloodshot eyes.

 

Voice: What about her? She is his muse!

 

Voice: Take the muse! Leave the others! Protect the Idol!

 

Rita goes to shout before the butt of a spear is brought down on her head and the world turns dark.

 

 

 

Done