Battle of the Bands 2: Part 2

Battle of the Bands 2
Part 2


I know you're just dying to see the Beatles come up in the story, but you'll have to wait just a bit longer. If it makes you feel better, you're going to hear some news about them. So fasten your seatbelts (if you're reading this in a car. Hey, your seatbelt should ALREADY be fastened! The police could pull you over for that!) and get ready for Part 2!


*Later on, after your first performance…*

"I think we did pretty good," Eva says defiantly as Elliot snorts. "We never got off tempo, and all the instruments sounded decent."

"But compare us to the Beatles, Eva!" Elliot counters, picking at the plate of fried dough in front of him. "That's what everyone came here for. To listen to people who look, sound and act like the Beatles." He does a little motion over to the band on stage now, a handsome group of men who look deathly close to the Beatles and are even dressed in their unified black sweaters, white button-downs, black pants and black shoes. "Like those guys."

You swallow a piece of your hamburger. "But we have two girls in our band who can't possibly look or sound like the Beatles."

Elliot makes a "hmmph" sound, and Dominick hits him on the shoulder.

"We did the best we could," he says steadily. "I'll admit that we could've sounded better, but we also could've sounded much worse." Dominick is in mid-bite of his hotdog, and suddenly he freezes stiff. His eyes are locked on something over your shoulder. His face drains of color.

"What?" Eva, who's sitting next to you, follows his eyes and looks around at the mass of people in the picnic area. "What's wrong, 'Nick?"

A single word breathes from between his pallid, dry lips: "Kyle…"

You spin around on the picnic bench and see a familiar man coming nearer, looking very grim. When you saw him last, his green eyes were full of jollity. Now, they have dark rings around them, and his once tan face is ashen. You can tell he hasn't shaved in weeks. He looks very tired.

In seconds, your entire band has stood from the picnic table and tries to meet his eyes, though he's already heading straight towards you. No one around you seems to notice this cowboy-ish, Harrison Ford-looking man.

"Kyle!" you say when he reaches you. "What are you doing here, so far from Fool's Gold?"

Dominick tries to get answers out of him, too. "Is something wrong?" he demands.

Kyle goes and shakes your hand, ignoring the questions. "Hello, Riley. How are you and your band? You holding up well?" His voice is weaved with a weary, humorless tone, which is very much unlike him. "It's been a long time since you came to the ranch."

You clear your throat. "We've been doing great, Kyle. And we were actually planning on stopping by after Abbey Road on the River to see you. See, we have a gig scheduled in Las Vegas, and—"

"Whatever you do, don't go to Fool's Gold," he says suddenly in a dark voice. "Don't even step on its land. You'll be kidnapped, just like them…" he trails off, his voice cracking.

Silence. No one can speak.

Obviously it's Eva who breaks the silence.

"Huh?" Eva has sensed something suspicious in Kyle's words. "Them?"

He pulls you all into a football-like huddle leaning over the table and whispers so quietly, you have to cup your hands behind your ears.

"You shouldn't have come here to Abbey Road on the River," he murmurs. "Most of 'em are here, seeking revenge for their missing counterparts. They've already taken the boys hostage and now they're in it for you."

"Th-the boys?" you gasp. "Surely you don't mean…"

Kyle stands up rigidly, adjusting his black cowboy hat atop his head. His green eyes ignite with distressed fire. He pats you on the back and dips his head, beginning to slide inside the flow of the crowd. He continues glancing over at the Lawn stage apprehensively.

"I'll tell you more later," he says swiftly. "Meet me in the main lobby of the hotel at midnight." Then, with a sharp, agitated wince, Kyle vanishes inside the sea of people without a second glance.

Your band just stands there around the picnic table for a moment, taking in everything he's just said. Everyone's facial expressions are blank, stupefied and paralyzed, with eyes as empty as corpses. In the background, a band has just begun their performance on the Lawn stage. From the sounds of their voices, you can tell that it's an all-girl group.

Ha ha. Take THAT, Elliot. We're not the only girl performers!

Dominick sits down abruptly, losing his zombie stare. "Such a cryptic message," he remarks blandly, slamming his knuckles against the bottom of his chin. "I wish he'd had time to explain further. I'm completely stumped."

Elliot falls into his seat, then Eva, and finally your muscles loosen, and you fall back down next to Eva. The band is playing a rather good rendition of "Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da," and you can't help mouthing the words.

"I think we all know who the 'boys' he was talking about are," Elliot presumes. "PJRG, right?"

PJRG is the acronym you all made up after Battle of the Bands. On your way back to Fort Worth (and this was when you had no idea you wouldn't be allowed to speak about them), the band agreed not to refer to Paul, John, Ringo and George as the Beatles, but as a simpler, harder-to-decode term: PJRG.

Yeah. Like that's easier to say.

Or to remember.

PJRG
JRGP
RGPJ
GPJR

And so on. SO MANY COMBINATIONS!

Only like 16, stupid.

"Yeah, that's the vibe I got when he said 'boys,'" you agree. "I mean, there's only really one other group he'd refer to as 'boys' that we all would know, and I don't think we'd care if the other was kidnapped."

Eva snickers. "I'm not going to save any 'Wild' Boys, if that's what you're talking about."

"So PJRG has gotten themselves kidnapped again," Dominick says slowly, lowering his voice when a family of four ambles by. "If that's true, how come no one here is talking about it?"

You shrug. "No idea. Maybe it hasn't gotten out in public yet."

Elliot shakes his head. "Guys, this isn't important right now. The part of his message we should be focusing on is the part about us being hunted down by someone here at Abbey Road." He whips his head to the right, and then to the left. "Someone here is dangerous…"

"Well duh, they're dangerous," Eva says ruefully. "They're friends with the Wild Boys! Which means they're not only dangerous, they're insane!"

The band now begins to play the first chords of "Octopus's Garden" and you smile at the sound of Ringo's playful song. You imagine his bright smile and wide blue eyes… and then it hits you like an atomic bomb detonating in your chest cavity. That smile and those eyes are missing. Abducted. And John, Paul and George are missing, too… the four men you fell so madly for have been taken hostage by someone at Abbey Road on the River, and now those people are after you…

"Riley?" A pale hand waves in front of your face. "Riley? RILEY! Earth to Riley! Hey!"

The urgency in Dominick's voice makes you jump. "Huh? What?"

All three of them—their arms shaking madly as they raise them—point at the female group standing on the stage in the distance. They're still playing "Octopus's Garden," but now, as you see what they look like, you wish your ears didn't work. Your heart crumbles like a Chip's Ahoy! cookie gnarled in the palm of your hand. The insides of your cheeks begin to burn up. Your jaw tightens and clenches together, mashing your teeth until they ache. You wonder if steam is filtering out of your ears, because that's how violently angry and afraid you are.

"I think we know who kidnapped PJRG…" Elliot observes plainly.

There, standing behind the microphones and holding guitars is a group of the largest women you have ever seen in your entire life. They're each 6ft tall, at least, with long flowing hair and hourglass figures. They could be twins of the Wild Boys, just the opposite gender, with the cowboy hats and aviator sunglasses perked on each of their noses.

They finish singing, and the crowd goes wild. The lead girl, who looks like a female clone of Alpha, speaks into the microphone. She flashed everyone a huge pearly smile.

"Thank you, everyone. And thanks to the brand new member of our band, Maya Ramirez, who just started playing electric keyboard for us!" A slender Hispanic girl you hadn't noticed comes out from behind two of the giant guitarists, bowing and sporting a narcissistic grin,

You feel your jaw drop.

"Maya… our Maya?" Eva whispers in shock.

"Not possible…" Dominick counters, sounding unsure of himself.

"It can't be her…" Elliot determines, "she wouldn't join a group who looked like female Wild Boys when we were almost killed by them…"

You recognize the egotistic glint in Maya's brown eyes from a distance and shake your head in dismay, unable to deny it any longer.

"It's her, guys."


Meanwhile, somewhere inside the hotel…


(Just a head's up to all my readers. This part isn't like the other parts. In this little section, you [the reader] aren't anyone. You're still Riley, but Riley isn't in this scene. This is happening when Riley and the Sergeant Hearts that Dream are discovering Maya's secret.)


When he opens his eyes, everything's dark. He tries rotating his head to get some light to come into his eyes, but there's no light at all… anywhere. Then, the feeling sensation comes back to his face, and he can feel some sort of cloth covering his eyes, preventing him from seeing. He wriggles around a bit and discovers rope is secured around his wrists behind his back.

"Paul? Ringo? George?" he calls into the blackness, hoping he'll get some sort of reply. Nothing comes at first. He feels the sweat beads forming on his brow, then dripping down his long nose. It doesn't take long for him to succumb to the first wave of panic.

"Lads?" he says again, his voice growing hoarse. "Can anyone hear me? Is anyone there?" Shoving a gulp down his throat, he starts getting the impression that he's being quarantined. A shiver itches itself down his spine.

A faint whisper comes at him. "John? Is that you?"

"Paul?!?!" Relief swamps his insides when he hears his friend's voice.

"Yes, it's me. Where are we? Why can't I see anything?"

"Paul? John?"

"Ringo!"

"John?"

"George!"

After it's established that the four Beatles are all together, they begin trying to figure out where, exactly, they all are.

"Do you guys have blindfolds on, too?" Paul asks.

"Yep," John replies, biting his lip. "And our hands are tied behind our backs, as well."

John hears someone wriggle around a bit, trying to break free. "Well, this complicates things…" Ringo announces. "Did you lads notice that our legs are tied up, as well as our wrists?"

Then comes four aggravated sighs as they take notice in Ringo's observation.

"How far away are we from each other?" George inquires softly. His voice is coming from John's left side. "Let's figure that out first."

"I think I'm sitting on a bed," Ringo states. "Geo, you sound like you're sitting to my right, and John, you sound like your coming from a little in front of me."

"Rings, I think we're sitting really near by," Paul comments. "I just reached my head out to the right and I hit some sort of bedding. You must be on that bed. I'm on the ground in a corner."

"Hey, I'm in a corner, too!" John accidentally bumps his head into a wall. "Must be the opposite corner from you, Paul."

A loud BANG comes from where George is.

"OWW!"

"What happened, George?"

"I hit my head on a wall corner…"

On the bed, someone moves. "Lads, I think we're in someone's bedroom."

"No kidding, Ringo," George moans, obviously still in pain.

"A crazed fan might've kidnapped us?" John suggests, knowing that with the kinds of fans they have, it's all very possible. "And now we're locked in her bedroom, waiting for our doom?"

"No, I don't think that's the case…" Paul says slowly. "Stop talking and listen."

Everyone grows quiet as they obey Paul's erratic request. John holds his breath, concentrating on the noises outside the room. Something faint slides into his ears… something rather familiar…

"Octopus's Garden!" Ringo says happily. "My song! Someone is playing the song I wrote!"

"Yeah, they're playing our music live…" George murmurs hesitantly. "That's very… odd…"

John stretches his ear closer to the sound. "I think girls are singing it. That's what it sounds like." He tucks his bottom lip behind his row of top teeth. "We can't be at someone's house… it sounds like there's a huge amount of people listening to the music. Can't you hear them all singing along?"

A "hmm" comes from where Paul is seated. "So… a live concert featuring our music."

"That can only be…" John starts, knowing exactly how to finish his sentence.

"Abbey Road on the River!" the Beatles say in unison.

"Wow…" George says in a dreamy-sort of voice. "I never thought we'd ever find time to attend it. We've always been too busy to stop by. All those tribute bands… singing our songs."

A single thought hits John in the heart. "Lads… do you think… the Sergeant Hearts that Dream are here?"

No one speaks. John imagines everyone in the room is running through their memories, retrieving every picture of Riley and Eva that they can hold. He, too, is smiling at the thought of those two girls that stole his heart in Texas. Not only did he fall for both of them, but they managed to infatuate him even more by rescuing him and the others from a rogue group of men called the Wild Boys. Through thick and thin, the two girls had remained near the Beatles—taking more and more pieces of their hearts with each minute—until they had to go their separate ways. Saying goodbye to them had ripped John apart. He missed them with every fiber in his body. The hardest thing about it was that he wasn't the only one with such strong feelings towards the girls. Paul, George and Ringo had also developed a fond attachment with each of them. Which guy would get which girl all depended on if they ever met again. John had doubted that until this very second.

"I h-hope so…" Paul stutters, giddy at the thought. "We haven't s-seen them in a year, now."

George groans. "A year. A whole year since—"

"Since what?" Ringo spouts hotly.

"Erm…"

"Never mind that." John takes notice that "Octopus's Garden" is almost done. He recognizes his part being played rather badly and not as smoothly as he likes it. He groans and rolls his eyes. "Their rhythm guitarist is horrid."

"John, return to earth please," Paul demands. "I just thought of something you all might like to hear."

"Elaborate, please, Mr. McCartney," John responds formally.

Paul huffs. "Well, it just came to my mind that if we've been kidnapped and brought to Abbey Road on the River… maybe the people who took us hostage are looking for someone else, too."

"Someone…" George echoes.

"Someone, as in… Riley and Eva?" Ringo says, alarmed.

"And Elliot and Dominick," John includes. "Don't forget them, they were quite friendly with us."

"So what do we do?" George asks.

"We're all blindfolded, tied up and locked in a room nearby Abbey Road on the River," Paul sums up. "There's not much we can do."

John sighs and, though he can't see anything anyway, shuts his eyes in defeat.

"Then, lads… we wait."