Page 76 of Disharmony

I grin and hang up, heading inside to join the others.

Well, it looks like I’m really doing this…

* * *

We have to hit the road straight away.

Ted, the Basilisks’ agent, meets us in the studio. He’s a strange character, and I can’t decide whether I like him. He looks like a science teacher with a dad bod and Walter-White style glasses. Since arriving, he’s marched around with a clipboard and barked orders in his squeaky voice.

Ted casts another nervous look in my direction and asks Zed, “Are you sure about this?”

By this, he means me. Hello, I’m standing right fucking here!

“It’s Ripper’s call,” Zed replies.

“Fine.” Ted throws his hands up. “Buggy is loaded and ready to go. Everyone out.”

As well as being their agent, Ted drives their tour bus. If his driving is as militant as the schedule he wants to keep, I’m in safe hands.

Ripper sneaks up behind me as we leave the studio. “Are you excited to see inside Buggy?”

He leads the way, and I follow by his side. If he heard Ted’s remarks, he isn’t paying them any attention. Either that, or his quick strides are purposeful to put distance between us.

I grin. “Hell yeah!”

Buggy is the stuff of Basilisk legend. It’s huge with the square footage as big as a small apartment. The flames licking up its black sides make it look like a tour bus from hell.

Ripper slides Buggy’s door open and steps aside. “Ladies first.”

My mouth falls open as I mount the steps. Inside, the walls are painted black, and shiny red cushioned seats line the sides of the bus. Further down, there’s a wooden minibar complete with table and stools, alongside a small kitchen area full of sleek modern appliances.

“The cinema TV folds down here,” Ripper explains, pointing overhead. Along the tops of the bus, fluorescent light strips cast everything in a red glow. “The lights are adjustable, and we can change the colors too.”

Buggy’s windows are tinted to keep prying eyes away, but it almost makes it difficult to see out. Being here is like entering a new private world. One I’m not sure I belong in. I move closer to look at the framed records and rows of hooks displaying masks and props from past tours. I recognize the chains Ripper wrapped around his torso when he dressed as an escaped prisoner; they dangle next to the gas mask Venom wore at their last show. I resist the urge to run my fingers along the brim of Zed’s familiar velvet top hat and stare in awe instead. Buggy is a museum dedicated to the Basilisks.

“It’s…” I struggle to articulate my mix of emotions. “Incredible.”

“Go further in,” Ripper urges.

I do as he asks as Zed and Venom enter. There’s plenty of space with the four of us inside, and I can spin with outstretched arms without knocking into anything. Ripper follows as I go to explore the kitchen area, pointing out different objects. Beyond that, there’s a thick black velvet curtain which Ripper pulls open.

“This is where the sleeping pods are,” Ripper explains as I peer past him at the narrow walkway with two sliding wall panels on either side of it. We go down it, and he slides the panels to reveal two sets of bunk beds mounted in the walls that have been fashioned to look like coffins.

I exhale. “Woah…”

I heard rumors about their coffin beds but never thought it was true. When it comes to heavy metal, the media loves to sensationalize and speculate. I’m sure there has also been talk of sacrifice, devil worship, and black magic. Hopefully, none of that’s true…

Ripper points to the left at a small door. “That’s the bathroom.” He then gestures straight ahead at another door which bursts open and daylight floods in. Through the sudden brightness, I make out Ted, who is already buckled up behind the wheel.

“We’re leaving in ten,” Ted grunts, then slams the door shut again.

twenty-five

Ripper

Admittedly, I didn’t give my idea a lot of thought. Not that I’m gonna give Zed the satisfaction of knowing that, even if his eyes are burning holes into my back. Venom is quieter than usual, and Ash? She’s oblivious to her effect on us.

After she sang, I wasn’t ready to let her go. If she returned to Camp Harmony, I don’t know when we’d next get the opportunity to see her like this. I want to make it last and get to know her better. Maybe I’m being selfish…

---