Pt. 18

Two small slits of eyes held a steady gaze at Bo, as his limbs weakened and the axe² grew heavier in his grasp. Lennon's eyes widened slightly. A thick coating of sweat came over Bo, and the axe² slid out of his hands.

"Did you really think that would get you anywhere?" Lennon asked warmly, the faint enigmatic smile remaining.

"I must defeat you," Bo said, his voice quivering as his limbs felt ever weaker with every passing moment.

"Sure. For the sake of rock 'n roll." The smile was gone, replaced by disgust. "What did it get them last time?"

Tom Jones pulled his head out of his shirt. "Bo!" he bellowed. "Now's not the time for chit-chat. Do his head in!"

"You" Lennon's voice was palpable with contempt. "I've seen your kind before. Get behind me."

Tom Jones shrugged. Took a dozen steps behind Lennon and hummed quietly to himself, bobbing his head here and there.

Bo's body felt as if the world were pushing down on him. He struggled to speak. "I seek the arm of Rick Allen."

"If you want the truth, you must look within."

Bo felt as if his spine had suddenly been twisted in half.His feet flew out from under him, and he hit the dirt in a violent flop. Sharp stabbing pain emanated from the small of his back and convulsed his entire frame. He howled in agony.

Bo stared into the small slits of John Lennon's eyes, which now communicated great concern.

"I'm sorry this had to happen. There's not much time however. You now have to ask yourself who the real evil is. Who really stands to gain from my death?"

Another stab of anguish hit Bo. As his large trunk writhed in the dirt, Lennon knelt slightly down. Then there were three small cracking sounds. Three little red holes appeared in the chest of Lennon.

Lennon fell to his knees as the man rushed out from behind the two fallen figures. He was a blur to Bo at first, all that was really visible was a moustache, sunglasses, and a Captain's hat.

The man kicked Lennon in the face, sending him onto his back in the dirt and the leaves. He then lifted Lennon's head by the hair, and pried a pistol in between his teeth.

"John," the man's voice was oddly calm. "John, I want to sing you a song before I put you down. Look at me, John" Lennon's eyes remained with Bo. "Look at me!" the man thundered with rage. Lennon's eyes reluctantly turned to the man's.

"When a body meets a body coming through the rye," the man sang. Lennon's eyes briefly turned again to Bo, as another muffled crack was heard. Lennon's eyes went dead, and blood flowed from his mouth.

The man stood, holstered his pistol on the hip of his leisure suit. He inhaled deeply, swiveled his head on his neck, and exhaled with a soft, satisfied moan.

Bo wailed again as his spine shot wave after wave of pain throughout his body. The man paid no attention. Only after several moments of gloating over his kill did he notice Tom Jones, still obliviously humming.

"Ahoy, Tommy. Look alive!"

Jones looked over his shoulder, a smile of happy recognition appeared. "Captain!"

Jones ran to the captain, and the two embraced.

"Captain! How is Tennile?"

"She's great Tommy. She's my lady love."

Bo's wails turned to a piercing shriek.

The captain gestured at Bo. "Why's this turkey bellyachin'?" He didn't wait for an answer. The captain took a few steps toward Bo, and tapped him twice on the top of his head with his shoe.
He knelt down and turned his head at a malevolent angle. "Hey, beef tallow." Bo kicked and flailed a couple feet away as his tears and saliva formed a pool of mud under his face.

"Hey, tubby--why so glum?"

"He's looking for Rick Wakeman's finger." Tom Jones answered

"Wakeman, huh?" the Captain said, rubbing his chin. "Could be a doozy. Could be a doozy."

Bo still