Michael Joke was stuck between a chuckle and a groan.
He wasn't sure if he should be tickled that Billy Jean seemed to give a hoot about him or miffed that she mainly saw him as walking, talking grub.
With a lazy stretch, he snagged the back of her collar.
Billy Jean, who was just about to wrap her fingers around the doorknob, was yanked back in a flash.
"Why you stoppin' me? I gotta go out there and chow down on them."
"If you barge out like that, you wanna end up lookin' like Swiss cheese?"
At the mention of being "turned into Swiss cheese,"
Billy Jean's fire fizzled out like a wet match.
"So what's the plan?"
Just then, a big, beady-eyed rat with a face that could curdle milk, feeling its turf had been trespassed,
suddenly shot out of a hole in the corner and made a beeline for Michael Joke's foot.
Michael Joke smooshed the zombie rat under his shoe without breaking a sweat.
"Squeak..."
The zombie rat let out a screech that could wake the dead.
"Not stayin' in your hole, comin' out to stir up trouble,"
Michael Joke grumbled, about to grind the rat into dust.
"Wait." Billy Jean stopped him.
"I wanna grill it for some info."
Michael Joke couldn't for the life of him figure out what she could possibly want from a rat, but he played along and eased up.
Billy Jean crouched down, eyeballed the rat pinned under the shoe, and tried to make nice.
"Roar...Rat buddy, I got some questions. You spill the beans, we'll let you skedaddle. Deal?"
"Squeak...What you wanna know?"
The zombie rat, dumb as a post, took its fellow critter at face value.
Since the rat was game, Billy Jean rolled with it.
She nudged Michael Joke's foot,
"Michael , let my rat pal go. Now."
Michael Joke looked at Billy Jean like she'd lost her marbles—rat pal?
First, there was a pigeon pal, and now a rat buddy.
What kind of wacky social club did she have?
Once freed, the rat hightailed it from Michael Joke and dove back into its hole.
"Look at you, scarin' my rat pal half to death."
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Billy Jean scolded.
Michael Joke looked like a kicked puppy: Me? Scary?
Billy Jean sidled up to the hole and called down,
"Roar..."
"Rat pal, come on out. Don't be a scaredy-cat. I got your back."
The rat poked its head out, cautious as a cat burglar.
"Squeak...What you wanna know?"
" Roar ...What's the skinny here? Cough up everything you know."
"Squeak..."
"……"
Billy Jean was stumped.
"Roar...You're talkin' gibberish. I can't make heads or tails of it. Can you spit it out straight?"
"Squeak..."
Oh my stars!
Billy Jean slapped her forehead, her head throbbing, still no wiser.
The rat, peeved that Billy Jean couldn't understand its rat-talk, chomped down on her shoelace and tugged, trying to lead the way.
"Michael , rat pal says it'll take us to the goods. What do you think?"
Billy Jean asked Michael Joke.
Michael Joke's brow furrowed.
"We can't go waltzing out there. We're sittin' ducks. They'll spot us the second we leave the room."
The rat seemed to get it and scurried under the bed, beckoning to Billy Jean:
"Squeak...Over here."
Billy Jean peeked under the bed and saw a gaping hole.
The rim was scored with claw marks and smeared with old, dried blood.
" Roar ...You dig this?"
"Squeak...Nope, it was here when I moved in. Maybe some other rats were the landscapers."
" Roar ...So where's it lead?"
"Squeak...Anywhere you wanna go in this villa."
The rat had done its homework.
Billy Jean's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.
" Roar ...Well, butter my biscuits. This is like a gift from the heavens."
She waved Michael Joke over.
"Come on, there's a secret passage here."
"Billy , hold your horses..."
Michael Joke didn't have time to rein her in.
Billy Jean had already wriggled into the hole after the rat.
He eyeballed the big hole under the bed.
It was wide enough for a person to shimmy through—no way a rat dug this.
As for what it really was, his gut told him it wasn't all sunshine and roses, and whatever it was might still be lurking in there.
Michael Joke's dark eyes narrowed to slits.
Since Billy Jean had already taken the plunge, he had no choice but to follow, even if he smelled trouble.
Cold and stinky as a sewer.
That was the smell of the tunnel.
Even as a zombie, Billy Jean thought it was colder than a witch's tit, and the stink nearly made her hurl.
Hearing the scuffle behind her, she knew Michael Joke was on her heels.
If she was having a tough time, she could only imagine how much worse it was for Michael Joke, with his germaphobe ways.
"Michael , you holdin' up okay?"
Michael Joke's voice came from behind, tight with exasperation.
"Billy , ever since I crossed paths with you, it's been one headache after another."
Hearing the usually cool-as-a-cucumber Michael Joke let loose with a curse, Billy Jean could tell he was fit to be tied.
She felt a twinge of pity for a second before picking up the pace.
The tunnel seemed to go on forever.
Luckily, it wasn't long before a glimmer of light peeked through.
"Michael , hang tight, I see light up ahead."
Not only was there light, but there were also crashes and bangs coming from above—sounded like someone was having a tantrum and trashing the place.
Billy Jean moved like a shadow, inching to the edge of the hole.
Light streamed in as she peeked out.
Like the hole they'd entered through, this one was under a bed too.
Clearly, they'd wormed their way from one room to another.
There was someone in the room.
Through the crack under the bed, they could see a pair of feet pacing like a caged tiger.
The floor was littered with broken junk—it was obvious the person was seeing red.
By this time, Michael Joke had caught up, and the two of them, like prairie dogs on high alert, cautiously poked their heads out.
Suddenly, a voice filled with rage filled the room—it was the same voice as the golden-element ability holder from before.
"So what if he's a lightning-element hotshot? So what if he's drop-dead gorgeous? Think he can steal Kelly away? I won't stand for it."
"Kelly loves me. She's mine. Nobody's takin' her away."
"But Kelly slapped me. She slapped me for that guy. Ahhh..."
With a bellow that could shake the rafters, a table went flying.
"Boom..."
Billy Jean snorted like a bull.
This was a lovesick fool gone off the deep end.
Love could turn people into real nut-jobs.
"I won't let him go. I'll off him. Anybody who gets in my way is toast."
The sinister voice echoed like a death knell.
A glimmer of bloodlust flashed in Billy Jean's eyes.
If he was gunning for her "food stash," she'd take him out first.
"Michael , I'm gonna go put him out of his misery."
Michael Joke yanked her back, pulling her into the hole.
"A golden-element whiz kid. With your skills, you'll just get your butt kicked and blow our cover,"
Michael Joke Roared.
"Then you go do it."
Billy Jean's tone was as casual as if she was asking him to swat a fly.
Just smack and it's done.