It's WAR! Mace doesn't even want to think about rats in mouse clothing! A plan of escape is in motion.
It's War! part 5 by: Whipblade
Biker Mice From Mars
"What do you think?" Mace asked Phantom. The two huddled close to the
"Well, it'd be crude. And it'll have to be done quickly." Phantom's
hard voice whispered. Her feminine figure had gone out the window when
the war started. She never considered herself a soft girl. Her hard flat
stomach, and broad shoulders used to lifting heavy weapons and containers
dwarfed her small breasts.
"I just have to keep out of the guards sights." Phantom said
gazing into the sewage filled hole that did not smell pretty. "The dirt
will be soft. Looking at the walls, there isn't anything 'solid' beyond
the floor edge."
"You're one of the smallest. They've noticed Flea already." Mace muttered,
quickly glancing to the sleeping form in the corner.
"Cut my hair." Phantom said reaching into her boot. Pulling a sliver
of glass only inches wide and three inches long. "It'll keep me male for
Taking the shank, Mace nodded grabbing a clump of her medium length
hair. "Sorry in advance if I cut you."
Flea woke to the horrible stench of raw sewage. The sound of sloshing
water being dumped on a solid surface.
Wrinkling his nose, the small young mouse peeked his head over the
slumbering body next to him. "Phantom?" he asked seeing the familiar smoked
furred mouse. "What'd you do to your hair?"
"Shh, go back to sleep." She soothed.
Blinking back sleep, with nothing more than a sliver of night sky peeked
through the small window, not even a hand wide, complete with thick metal
Dust and gravel bounced through the window, bopping Flea on the head.
"HEY!" he scolded moving from the window.
"Come here sweetie." Chassis stretched out her arms. Flea crawled
into them. Holding the tired boy, she soon drifted off back to sleep.
Mace moved closer to the poor excuse of a window. "Hello?"
"Hey." A smooth voice sounding so much like himself it scared him.
"Who's there?" Mace asked looking out the small slat of a barred window.
A set of black boots and a rusty reddish tail was all Mace could see.
"Doesn't matter. Just wanted to tell you something." The voice stated casually.
"Yeah? What?" Mace sniffed, trying to get a scent from the other mouse.
"The Freedom Fighters think you're alive."
"Really?" Mace gasped stunned.
Flea's head shot up trying to get a look at the outside. His ears twitching trying to hear better. Those not sleeping also strained to hear.
"Yeah, really. They think you're alive ... and well...in their base." The voice laughed.
"WHAT!?" shocked Mace looked horrified at the thought of someone impersonating him, someone possibly in his bed..,"No! Now way! They wouldn't think that!"
"Oh but they do." The feet stepped back from the narrow window. "Because I'm making them believe."
Eyes wide, Mace stared at a rat. A rat with a Freedom Fighter uniform on. Looking like he belonged in it. His red tail swishing lightly.
"LIAR!!!" Mace screamed clawing at the window's bars.
Phantom, Char and Nettles grabbed a hold of the furious mouse, dragging him away from the window and lie filled rat.
SIX YEARS LATER
Mace looked down the hall at the last of the female troops were led away to the interrogations room.
"Mace." The no longer squeaky voice of Flea whispered. "What's going to happen after Char is gone?"
"Don't ask!" Mace snapped leaning against the blunt wall. In truth, he had a sickening feeling Flea would be next. They had to get out of here and soon.
"Phantom?" Mace whispered to the hole.
"Yeah?" came a gravely reply.
"Soon." then she coughed.
"Till you die or we're done?"
"Both." a tail swept rubble into the toilette. "I'll be though tonight Mace. Promise."
Mace bit his bottom lip. His dull front teeth, yellowed with lack of care. He gazed to his now almost grown charge, Flea. The boy was a survivor, from the day he met him, Mace knew there was something special about the kid. Now, all Mace worried was getting the thin kid with starting facial whiskers out of their hell hole before the Sand Raiders decided to turn their sick twisted attention to Flea.
'How that kid had grown,' Mace thought. Although thin Flea had startings of dark facial whiskers, and a sharp mind. 'If he'd been free and fighting, he'd be a force to recon with.' Mace throught with a faint smile as he watched Flea a moment longer, before turning his attention to Phantom and their escape route.
Flea yawned, blinked and noticed how their numbers had dwindled. Down the hall, Char's screams stopped short.
...And the Beat goes on and on and on.....