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Up, up, up the old hiking trails, into the wooded hills overlooking Bumblyburg, they marched and hopped and climbed and trudged and trekked and hiked and clomped.
On, on, on. Up, up, up.
Child after child, peas, carrots, mushrooms, berries, onions, in messy rows of twos and threes.
On, on, on.
The older children carried the smaller ones. Too tired for complaint, too frightened to slow, none wanted to lose sight of the red-haired rhubarb superheroine who guided them up like a shepherdess, up, up, up to the top of the hill, then down, carefully, into the next valley, then up, up, up.
"C'mon, kids," Vogue called to them whenever she looked back, ushering them over shallow streams and over log bridges. "Dinkletown is just beyond those hills."
She would wait until they all got to the other side of a river or ravine before crossing herself, and each time she tried not to glance back at the several columns of black smoke rising from the fallen Bumblyburg.
Now was not the time to deal with that.
Inside a stylish, purple baby carrier hanging over her chest, Gherkin, her infant cucumber son, rested against her, already half asleep. Occasionally, he raised his tiny green head to gaze drowsily around them, but then Vogue gently encouraged him to settle down again, and he uttered a little sigh. At least her little darling could escape into a pleasant dream.
The mother's heart within Vogue grimly rejoiced that Gherkin was too little to understand the events of the last twenty-four hours. She wished every moment of peace upon her child even while her own mind reeled behind her mask of control.
But she could not indulge even in heartbreak until all her new charges were safe, and so she pressed on.
The sound of bouncing rubber traveled up the line of children, then back down to the teenage carrot girl with blonde hair who acted as a sort of rear guard, providing a continuous white noise as their young sentry made his rounds to check on the children.
Soon he skidded to a halt beside the carrot, and what had been a blue-and-white blur straightened, revealing himself to be a tall, thin asparagus boy about the same age as the blonde carrot. He exchanged a few words with his friend in hushed tones, and she pointed with her cell phone, to which he nodded and started off again, bouncing his way up the line until he braked by Vogue's side.
"Laura says the map app shows a gas station nearby," he told Vogue. "We can take the kids there for a little food and a bathroom break."
Vogue looked at him without slowing her trek. A gas station this close to the smoking city could have already been compromised by R.O.T.T.E.N., but for the sake of the little ones, it was worth investigating.
"We'll have the children sit down to rest when we get closer, Ricochet," she decided, pressing forward up the rising incline. "Then you and Laura can keep them calm while I check to see how safe the station is."
Ricochet shook his head. "I'm faster than you. If there's trouble, I can get to safety before anyone even knows I was there."
"I'm the adult here," she returned firmly. "R.O.T.T.E.N. is our most dangerous foe yet, so if anyone takes a risk, it will be me. My suit can provide a proper disguise, so I can slip in and out without" — and she glanced at Ricochet's blue-and-white super suit — "drawing attention."
"Hey, I'm still a full-fledged member of the League!" he insisted, impotent frustration flaring on his green face. "Besides, you have a kid. What are Laura and I supposed to do with Gherkin if you don't make it back like Larr—"
He broke off, looking suddenly mortified with himself. His mouth hung open helplessly before he averted his masked eyes.
"I didn't mean it, Vogue," he said in a more subdued, mournful tone. "Honest."
Vogue closed her eyes, banishing the still too fresh memory, and she adjusted a dial on her belt. This action produced a pocket, from which she pulled out a (stylish) basecap, a polo shirt and jeans.
"Wear these over your suit then," she said in a monotone. "Better conceal your identity as much as possible, even out here."
Ricochet nodded, accepting the clothes.
"I have a much greater respect for Gladys Aylward," Laura confided to Vogue as Ricochet's bouncing echoes faded into the forest. "I’m glad you and Ricochet are here. I couldn't imagine doing all this by myself."
"God can give you the strength that you need at the time that you need it," Vogue replied in a low voice.
They directed all the kids to sit quietly under the cover of the trees, warning them not to wander off. Many huddled together; few complained. Even the younger ones seemed to comprehend that they were now hunted things.
"When Ricochet gets back, I can take the kids to the gas station in groups of three or four," Vogue told Laura. "I can switch costumes with my suit and buy as much food as I can carry without drawing suspicion. Then we’ll let the kids have a little picnic before we press on."
"Ricochet and I can take a few turns," Laura offered. "That way nobody thinks it's weird that a bunch of rhubarbs keep showing up with all these kids."
"We'll see," Vogue said vaguely.
As Vogue scanned her charges, her protective instincts on overdrive, Gherkin shifted against her chest, and the beginnings of a baby sob arose. Vogue promptly jiggled him, switching from superhero mode to that of a mother (although there really was not much difference between the two, in her mind).
"Laura, can you keep an eye on the children while I take care of Gherkin?" she asked, already breaking into a gentle walk.
Ever helpful, Laura agreed, and Vogue retreated a little ways into the woods, speaking soothingly to Gherkin as his wails grew. She soon found a fallen log and got to work, opening one particular and cleverly crafted inter-dimensional pocket on her hip. Back during Vogue's pregnancy, Alfred had modified her suit to allow for her to carry a dressing room's worth of items with ease, which had come in handy for keeping diaper bags, baby bottles and pacifiers at the ready. (As Vogue had often said, "Motherhood is always in style," so it was no stretch for the suit to keep up with the demands of taking care of her child.)
After giving Gherkin a fresh diaper and wrapping him in his favorite blanket, Vogue gave him one of his bottles and nestled him against her again. Fortunately, she had managed to grab a lot of ready-made bottles and baby formula before fleeing Larry Manor.
Larry Manor… all in flames…
Keep it together, Petunia Cucumber, she reprimanded, catching herself as a wave of grief threatened to crash onto her entire being. Gherkin needed her. The scared children needed her. Keep it together, just until Dinkletown.
Vogue closed her eyes and focused her attention on the sounds of Gherkin's content slurping. Having him near calmed her, reminding her of those happy evenings at home. About this time of day, she would have been lounging in the library or watching the big-screened television on her favorite couch in the living room. Alfred would soon roll in a cart of tea with fruit and little cakes, and Larry would… Larry would come over to take a turn holding and playing with Gherkin, and his face would be bursting with fatherly joy. Before accepting their son, he would lean over Petunia to give her a kiss, and… and…
Vogue's throat tightened.
Keep it together! she mentally screamed.
But it was hard, so hard…
Her happy life... the sweet dreams that she had shared with the man she loved... all of it gone. Ended. By the swift evil of R.O.T.T.E.N., the worst of all supervillain leagues.
Larry, her Larry... Bumblyburg's protector, LarryBoy... he had fought to the last, but it was not... it was not...
...And now Gherkin would grow up without his father... and even if they liberated Bumblyburg from R.O.T.T.E.N.'s terrible reign, even if Larry Manor were repaired... Vogue would never see Larry's smiling face or hear his laughter in those halls again. He would not be there to see Gherkin's first step or hear his first word...
Fresh despair spilled over her, nearly drowning out every other sensation, and while she was in that state, it was several moments before she realized a humming noise had arisen above the forest, like a helicopter.
Jolting, Vogue shot to her feet, clutching Gherkin, who continued to drink from his bottle. With adrenaline propelling her, she spun and charged back toward the other children.
"Everyone, stay under the trees!" she called out when the children came into sight, but it was hardly unnecessary. Laura had already gathered most of them between two oaks with huge, intertwining branches. Vogue grabbed two little peas who were struggling to run and bolted with them into the shade of an elm.
The whirling, humming sound increased, but the closer the noise came, the less it resembled a helicopter. Still huddled over the peas, Vogue risked craning her head out to peek through the branches at the sky. In moments, an odd shape appeared above the treetops. It circled the area twice before it started to lower itself into an open space near their hiding spot. Tensing, Vogue squinted at it, and it was only a moment before she realized what it was, and relief replaced her dread.
Two veggies clung to each other in the air. The shorter one was a grape garbed in a purple superhero uniform which included a helmet with a gold visor that resembled a bird's beak. He wore a utility belt, and attached to this was a golden propeller that allowed him to hover. Also protruding from the belt were two mechanical arms that terminated in bird-like claws, which he used to carry his companion bridal style. The other veggie was tall and cylinder shaped, dressed in a pink jumpsuit and a pink helmet with a tinted face guard.
"Dark Crow!" cried Vogue out in amazement over the propeller's roar. Dark Crow protected Lollyhaven, the city neighboring Bumblyburg, and he was an honorary member of the League of Incredible Vegetables (although LarryBoy had often tried to make him a full-fledged member).
Flashing a quick smile for the children to let them know they were safe, she rushed toward the descending newcomers, still carrying Gherkin.
The hovering grape lowered enough for he tall figure to release him and land gently on the forest floor. Dark Crow then shut off the golden propeller, which retreated back into his utility belt, and he dropped the last few feet. His companion took off her helmet to reveal stylishly asymmetrical blonde bangs that hung along the right side of her face: she was Dark Crow's adventurous wife, Vicki.
"I'm telling you, querida, this new propeller has paid for itself," Dark Crow declared, using his mechanical claws to adjust his uniform before these also retracted back into his belt.
"It sure lets you cover a lot of ground," Vicki agreed with a lopsided smile, "as the crow flies."
It was then they noticed the rhubarb charging for them, and they both brightened.
"Vogue!" Vicki cried, handing her helmet to her husband in order to give the rhubarb a heartfelt hug. "We saw heat signatures on the Crow-dar and came here to investigate! We had no idea you'd be out here!"
"Ricochet and I have been escorting these children out of Bumblyburg," Vogue explained, nodding to the little faces peering out at them through the trees. "He should be back soon."
Vicki sobered. "We were out dirt biking for D.C.'s birthday when we got the news."
"How is the rest of the League?" Dark Crow questioned, serious now.
Vogue's throat tightened, but she spoke in a controlled voice. "Thingamabob and Alfred were both captured. S-Cape staged a distraction to let Ricochet and me get the children out of the city. He's supposed to rendezvous with us in Dinkletown, if he can get out."
Vicki nodded, thinning her plump lips. "…And LarryBoy?"
Vogue lowered her head and held Gherkin closer against her.
Dark Crow and Vicki stared at her, their mouths falling open.
"Oh… Oh, Petunia..." Vicki gasped. She stepped forward to pull her and Gherkin into another hug.
Vogue closed her eyes, fighting back the tears which such a simple act of sisterly compassion called forth.
Meanwhile, Dark Crow blinked several times before he bowed his head.
"Vaya con Dios, mi amigo," he said in a thick voice, pulling his beak-like visor down over his eyes for a moment or two. Drawing in a deep breath, he straightened, determination appearing on his purple face. "What can we do to help you, Vogue?"
Vogue drew back from Vicki's embrace and motioned toward the watching children. "Getting all of them to safety is our first priority right now."
Vicki nodded, matching her husband's look of resolution. "We can take them to the Crow's Nest. It's on the south side of Lollyhaven. The children will be safe there until we can figure out what to do next."
"Too far," said Vogue with a shake of her head. "Mr. Nezzer's toy factory is just over that ridge. He helps S-Cape protect Dinkletown as a silent partner, and he has a bunker that he said we can take the children to."
"Then we go to the toy factory," declared Dark Crow with a firm nod. "More supers, more safety."
"What about your children in Lollyhaven?" Vogue questioned.
Dark Crow grinned, extending his mechanical arms to flex them. "Ah! They are as bold as their father and as smart as their mother! They'll head with their abuela to the Crow's Nest and protect themselves until Papa comes for them."
"I almost feel sorry for any supervillains that try to go after those kids," Vogue managed to smile. It was probably the first genuine smile she had formed in hours.
But it was only fleeting.
When Ricochet returned with a good report, the three adults and two teenagers set themselves to the task of taking the children in small groups. Vogue insisted that Laura had to have a superhero with her before she could take her first turn, and Ricochet volunteered. Armed with a fresh disguise each, he and Laura headed out with a cluster of mushroom siblings.
Dark Crow had wisely bought two packs of water bottles during his turn, and he passed them out to the children who waited. He then entertained the kids by treating his mechanical claws as hand puppets. Although possessing a reputation as an intense, non-nonsense superhero, fatherhood had softened him into a more tender man around children, and the little ones quickly warmed up to him.
Vicki and Vogue sat with Gherkin to the side, leaning against a tree. The former offered to hold the baby for a while so that Vogue could rest, but Vogue declined.
"I can't bear to let go of him just yet," she said softly. "He's all I have left of… his father."
"I understand," Vicki replied kindly. She sat with Vogue in silence for several moments, watching her husband's puppet show, before she suddenly asked, "After you get to Dinkletown, what will you do?"
"Make sure these children are safe," Vogue replied, gazing ahead. "In the morning, I'm going to take Gherkin to my sister's."
"Good idea. You both should be with your family right now."
"Then," Vogue said, lifting her head, "I will go back to Bumblyburg and rescue anyone else that I can."
Vicki whirled around, gaping at her.
"Vogue, you can't!" she cried. "Gherkin needs his mother, more than ever! Let the other superheroes fight this one."
"There aren't many of us left," Vogue said quietly, turning to look at her friend, "and if I was one of the mothers trapped in Bumblyburg right now, I'd be crying out for someone to come back and rescue my children."
"Yes, but—"
"I have to go, Vicki. Do you understand? R.O.T.T.E.N. is running Bumblyburg and the other cities, and they'll keep hurting everyone, unless someone puts a stop to all this. It has to end."
Vicki opened her mouth again to protest, but she was cut off when some of the children watching Dark Crow let out a happy cry, and the two women turned to see Ricochet and Laura returning with the little mushrooms. Without a look at Vicki, Vogue climbed to her feet and went over to start organizing the next group to go to the gas station.
As much Vogue would have liked to let the children rest more, the sinking sun urged her to reach Dinkletown before dark. Having Dark Crow and Vicki with them seemed to have boosted the children's morale. The journey seemed to go faster, but it was not until they crested a hill and spotted a tower-like building with candy-striped paint and finial-like observatory on top that everyone brightened.
Mr. Wally P. Nezzer and a few of his trained penguins welcomed them at the gate of the factory's newly built wall, and the children were ushered downstairs into a large (and heavily air-conditioned) dining room where more penguins had a hot supper and cocoa waiting (along with mittens and coats that allowed the children to sit comfortably in the gelid temperatures). With Laura and Ricochet supervising the feasting kids, Vogue (carrying Gherkin), Dark Crow and Vicki retreated with Mr. Nezzer up to the observatory.
"No word from S-Cape yet?" inquired Vogue as she took a folding chair which Mr. Nezzer offered her. She rested Gherkin against her shoulder.
"He sent a text about an hour ago," Mr. Nezzer sighed, shaking his head. "He's still looking for a way into R.O.T.T.E.N.'s hideout, but he thinks he might have located where they're keeping Thingamabob and Alfred. If he can't break them out within an hour, I told him to come here to get Buzzsaw Louie."
Vogue nodded grimly. "If he can wait until I get back from dropping my son off with my sister, then Ricochet and I can go with him. Together we can end this."
At Vogue's declaration, Vicki's purple-shadowed eyes flicked toward her husband, who nodded. Dark Crow pivoted in his chair to face Vogue, wearing that look of his trademark determination.
"Vicki and I have discussed this, Vogue," he said. "I will go with you back to Bumblyburg."
Vogue quickly shook her head. "No, you have Lollyhaven to protect, and your children need you."
"Exactly," he answered firmly, making a little hop in his seat. "I have niños too, and if I were a regular civilian right now, I'd be fighting to my last breath to protect them. If we can get Thingamabob and Alfred out, we will have that many more on our side to fight R.O.T.T.E.N. Five heroes and a butler can bring them to their knees."
"Plus a factory owner," Mr. Nezzer chimed in. "I can help you from here, where I can."
"And the clever civilian wife of a superhero might prove useful down the road," added Vicki with a wry wink.
Her husband gave her an affectionate look.
"Never underestimate a mama crow when she has to protect her little chicks," he declared before he turned his attention back to Vogue. "The Crow's Nest may be safe right now, but I can't bank on it holding out against R.O.T.T.E.N. forever. I will get my children out, but when I go, I want to have as many superheroes watching my back as possible. To do that, I need our friends. Will you let me help you to rescue them so that they in turn can help me?"
Vogue gripped Gherkin, and a rush of empathy coursed through her toward her two friends. At least her son was safe here in her grasp. Despite their outward show of confidence, Dark Crow and Vicki were no doubt longing to have their children with them — any parent would be, under these circumstances.
"In that case," said Vogue, "how can I refuse?"
Dark Crow formed a grim smile and extended one of his mechanical claws toward her. Vogue adjusted her hold on Gherkin, and one of the wing-like flaps of her cape appeared and met his claw in a sort of handshake.
"When something's R.O.T.T.E.N.," said Vogue, "you clean it up and clean it out."
Tilting his head up, Dark Crow let out his battle cry: "Ca-caw!"
THE END