“You’ve been given a rethponthibility. Bugth didn’t jutht trutht you with the job, he truthted you with the aththithtanth and their thafety. The otherth follow you. You have to take care of them, jutht like you take care of yourthelf. You don’t have to thtop being a coward. Nobody exthpectth that of you. But even a coward can do the right thing, for onthe in your mitherable life. Thith ithn’t a cartoon. The only way you can be thure that you, or anyone elthe, thurviveth thith epithode ith to go back there and make thure of it yourthelf. Bugth might be in charge of the Inthtitute, but he’th not in charge of the Archiveth—and how’th he thuppothed to know what’th down here? The world ith watching you, Daffy Duck, and they’re watching to thee if you’re worthy of thith pothition, of thith role, of thith moment. Whether you want it or not, you’re not going to be able to live with yourthelf if the only way you thurvive ith by thacrifithing everybody elthe.” He stabbed a finger determinedly in the air and shouted, “Tho get back there and do thomething!”
Turning on his heel, he backed up to give himself a running start, then sped back down the tunnels the way he’d come.
He almost tripped over something and nearly screamed before he registered the metallic sound against the stone. Looking down, squinting in the dark, he noticed that it was a fire extinguisher; when he picked it up and shook it, it felt full, or at least full enough. Probably it was the one he himself had dropped on his initial flight. He tucked it under his arm and kept running.
He heard a sound from somewhere up ahead, or at least it sounded like somewhere up ahead—he couldn’t be completely sure, sound traveled funny down here. He hoped it was ahead of him, because it sounded like Porky crying out in terror, so that was the direction he was heading.
“Hang on, Porkthter ol’ pal, I’m coming!” he yelled. He could hear the thin edge of panic in his own voice and just hoped he would have the presence of mind to operate the fire extinguisher successfully. Bob knew he’d never managed to do it properly before, but…well, as he kept reminding himself, this was no cartoon. This was real life, and in real life, he was more than just the comic relief or the butt of the joke.
He hoped.
Bursting around a corner, he found Porky pressed against what looked like a door, rattling the knob and yanking on it; it didn’t budge. He was yelling in absolute terror as he pulled fruitlessly on it. Daffy would have asked why he didn’t give up and go on down the hall if he hadn’t seen the wave of white squirming nearly silently towards him.
“Thtay away from him, you filthy vermin!” Daffy yelled. He aimed the nozzle at the worms and pulled the trigger.
To his relief, a cloud of white gas hissed out the end, coating the worms as it did so. Just like the ones upstairs did, these shriveled and died as the gas hit them. That was probably the usual response of something that had been deprived of oxygen, just accelerated because of how tiny their lungs were and how little room for air there was in them to begin with, but it was a relief to see just the same. Daffy kept spraying until he was sure all the worms were dead, then ran forward and grabbed Porky’s arm.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “They didn’t bite you, did they?”
“Eh-n, eh-n, eh-n, eh-no,” Porky stammered, but his pupils were still pinpoints of terror in the dark, which was truly only a response a Toon would have—humans’ pupils usually blew out with fear, but with Toons big eyes were just signs of surprise or patheticness. “W-where have you b-been? I-I thought I lost you—”
“It’th fine. I’m fine. Have you theen Tweety?” Daffy’s leg was beginning to shake. The adrenaline that had driven him since he first saw the worms was leaving him in fits and spurts, and the ankle that had been bitten by the worm before they made it to Document Storage was beginning to throb in pain.
“N-n-n-n-no, not s-since the eh-w, eh-w, eh-w, eh-w, eh-w, eh—s-since we all got attacked.” Porky grabbed Daffy’s arm. “Here, y-you can’t walk—let me, eh, h-help you.”
Daffy considered arguing, then decided against it. “Thankth, pal. Let’th try and find the way out of thith plathe. Hopefully we’ll run into Tweety on the way.”
Naturally, they didn’t. They wound their way through the confusing maze of stone tunnels. They didn’t run into a lot of worms, but that was less comforting than Daffy would have expected. Several times they came upon doors, but some didn’t open, some opened to blank stone, and only one or two opened to small, enclosed rooms rather than new corridors or, crucially, ways out of the tunnels themselves. Porky and Daffy didn’t speak much. There wasn’t really any need, especially since every step, or hobble, sent a renewed throb of agony up Daffy’s entire body.
He wasn’t used to pain lingering.
Suddenly, Porky stuttered to a halt, nearly sending Daffy to the ground. He clutched at Porky’s arm. “What’th wrong?” Instinctively, he dropped his voice to a whisper.
“L-look,” Porky whispered back, pointing ahead of them.
Daffy looked. Just outside the weak, crazed beam of light from the flashlight Porky had managed to retrieve was a stone step, rising up above them. Daffy took a deep breath. “Hot damn. That’th our ticket out of thith plathe. Come on. Tweety’th probably already waiting for uth upthtairth.”
“Yeah,” Porky agreed. “Let’s eh-t, eh-t, eh-t, eh-try it.”
They hop-climbed the steps, which terminated at a trapdoor. Daffy held out a hand to stop Porky, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the tape recorder he’d secreted there when he and Tweety had followed Porky into the tunnels.
“Eh-r, eh-r, eh-r, eh-r-really, Daffy?” Porky said, sounding slightly annoyed.
“I want a record of thith.” Daffy clicked the recorder back on. “Right, we’re recording again. Porky and I have come through the corridorth, but we’re thtill in the tunnelth themthelveth. It’th very confuthing down here, lotth of twithtth and turnth and falthe doorth. Not tho many wormth, but—”
“We eh-l, eh-l, eh-l-lost Tweety,” Porky interrupted.
“I wath getting to that,” Daffy said patiently. “There wath an attack at one point, and we all got theparated. Porky and I found one another again, but there’th been no thign of Tweety anywhere. We have, however found thome thtepth going up. They theem to end in a wooden trap door. We’re hoping it leadth to the Archiveth, but we’re not thure at thith point. All that matterth, though, ith that it’th out.” He looked up. “You ready, Porky?”
“R-eh, r-eh, r-eh, r-eh, r-ready, Daffy,” Porky agreed.
Daffy put his free hand on the trap door; Porky did the same. “One—two—three!”
They both reached up and pushed as hard as they could. The trap door yielded to their combined efforts and shot upwards, and sure enough, they emerged into the Archives.
Standing directly in front of them was a grinning figure straight out of Daffy’s worst nightmare. She was exactly what Porky had described in his statement—not tall, but not short, with long, filthy dark hair, grey skin, a ragged overcoat, and more holes than a burning film strip.
“Do you hear the singing?” she asked them, in a voice that should have been impossible with the number of worms moving in and out of her throat.
Porky and Daffy grabbed one another and let voice to full throated screams of terror. As she advanced towards them, Daffy heard the distinctive but, under the circumstances, incredibly ominous click of the recorder switching off in his hand.
[CLICK]
BUGS
Daff, as your friend, I am telling you to go home.
DAFFY
As your friend, I am telling you that ain’t happening, buthter.
BUGS
As your boss, I am also telling you to go home.
DAFFY
I’m fine.
BUGS
Look at you. I’ve seen you look better after being shot at by a dozen hunters. You need rest.
DAFFY
Our friendth in the hathmat thuitth gave me a clean bill of health, bloody holeth notwiththtanding. And they theemed very ready to quarantine anyone thhowing the thlightetht bit of infection, tho I’m thure thith ith fine.
BUGS
The paramedics said your lungs need fresh air. Porky’s too.
DAFFY
It’th frethh enough down here.
BUGS
In the middle of the corpses of a thousand rotting woims? C’mon, Daff, can’t we at least do this in my office?
DAFFY
No! I need to be here. Need to watch. I need to be sure—
BUGS
Daffy! She’s gone. I went with the ECDC people myself when dey took her away. I watched ‘em burn her body. Jane Prentiss is dead. You can relax.
DAFFY
Can I? Really? If Tweety actually found—
BUGS
Dat is a matter for da cops.
DAFFY
Thinthe when do you trutht the polithe tho much?
BUGS
Daffy…
DAFFY
Fine! Fine. I’ll go home ath thoon ath I have everyone’th thtatementth.
BUGS
…Okay, Doc.
DAFFY
Thtatement of Bugth Bunny, Head of the Magnuth Inthtitute, regarding the…infethtation by the entity formerly known ath Jane Prentithth. Thtatement recorded direct from thubject, twenty-ninth of July, two thouthand thixthteen. Thtatement beginth.
BUGS
Dere’s not much to tell on my end, really. Dis afternoon, just after lunch, I was going over the budgets for the Institute in my office like I normally do on Tuesdays when the fire alarm started going off. I packed my woik away and started heading for the evacuation point like we’re supposed to when Ralph came barreling through the door, babbling about woims and clutching a tape recorder.
I told him dat whatever was wrong should wait until we got outside. Dis ain’t no cartoon, you know, and if dere was a fire we weren’t going to be safe. He told me he had set off the fire alarm to get everyone out, and dat you and Porky and Tweety were trapped by Jane Prentiss. Obviously dis got my undivided attention, and I suggested he turn dat tape recorder of his on. Mostly so dis kind of thing wouldn’t be necessary. Didn’t you get the tape?
DAFFY
No. There wath…thome thort of problem. Ralph tellth me the tape wath lotht.
BUGS
…Huh.
Well. I told him about the new fire suppressant system, and said that, since there wasn’t an actual fire, we would have to manually get it going. We went down to the main floor, on our way to the basement, and it was clear everyone else had left the building. We had…just reached the main floor when…
Look. I…I know I’ve been pretty nonchalant [pronounced non-CHALL-ant] about your concoins lately. I was actually getting ready to raise the issue of Porky living in the basement, especially since I think he’s been stealing fire extinguishers. But…honestly? I didn’t really fully appreciate what you were talking about until I toined dat corner and we saw what I can only describe as a…tidal wave of filth rushing towards us. I’m, ah…I’m kinda ashamed to admit I didn’t really pay attention to Ralph while we were running, and I guess I musta lost track of him somewheres. We got separated.
I managed to get meself under control and decided to take a right toin at Albuquerque, as it were, an’ go a different way around to the boiler room. Lucky thing for me it looked like da woims were mostly concentrated in dat one mass, so it left all the other places pretty well unoccupied. It took me maybe ten, fifteen minutes, but I made it, with only one close call. Lemme tell ya, the sight of all them big, red, shiny CO2 canisters was a pretty comforting one. [Deep breath] I’m…sorry it took me so long to actually figure out how to work the system. If I’d maybe been a little quicker…
DAFFY
It’th…fine.
We’re alive.
BUGS
Yeah. Well. I…turned on the fire suppressant system. And…that’s when I hoid the scream. I can’t really describe it, not even with all the experience with foley we’ve had, but…I don’t t’ink I really need to, you know? You were a lot closer to it than I was, I think.