《A Nation of Riflemen》 Book 1: Ch 1 Book 1: Ch 1 *BEEP* ¡°Go, go, go!¡± I heard the beep and I took off running. My lungs already felt like they were burning and my legs as if being pumped full of battery acid. My gear I brought with me felt almost twice its weight and the ten pound piece of metal hanging off the two point strap slung on my shoulder seemed almost like a burden. It was my third run in the day and I already felt spent from all of the running and gunning. At the uninitiated, running around and shooting guns would sound like a lot of fun, but what most would love to tell you later is that you also have to carry your all your gear with you. I reached the wooden barricade set up on the dirt road and laid my hand on top, then my rifle, my fingers followed by pinching the handguard between my index finger and thumb. It was done to give the rifle maximum stability for aiming and shooting, I used to have to always remind myself to do it but now it just comes to me automatically. The crisp click of the safety being turned off immediately followed, and like I said, it now just comes automatically. The hilly desert contrasted very well with the black colored steel silhouettes and it made easy target recognition. I didn¡¯t waste any time as I immediately took aim at the targets but my crosshairs kept getting interference from my still elevated heart rate. After applying some breathing techniques, I finally had it down to a manageable level. I aimed the illuminated crosshair just above the target and to its left, compensating from both the bullet drop and the 15 mile per hour crosswind. Squeezing the trigger, the rifle barked and I felt the recoil push against my shoulder. I didn¡¯t bother with it as my attention was in the visible vapor trail left by the bullet as it sailed up and to the left of the silhouette and down to hit it right below center-mass, the target swung from the impact and gave off a delayed crisp ping. ¡°Hit¡± Ron said, followed by the ring. He is serving as my spotter and is currently looking at the wide angle 20x spotting scope. He is to tell me where the rounds landed in the case of missed shots and call out hits. That is in case the recoil of my weapon made me unable to see where the bullet went. I traversed the rifle just a few degrees and then saw the next target. I gave the same amount of holdover the target and gently squeezed the trigger, almost getting myself startled by the report. ¡°Miss, two feet left and one just above¡± The present wind speed would have blown away the puff of dust that the bullet made on impact. I then made my adjustments according to what Ron said and squeezed again and rewarded by the crisp sound of the steel bells ringing, that¡¯s two out of five. And kind of knowing the right holdover in this distance gave me some confidence on my shooting. *BANG!* ¡°Hit.¡± *PING* *BANG!* *PING* *BANG!* ¡°Hit, now go to the next point. Move!¡± I picked myself up and took off running for the next checkpoint, another hundred yards uphill towards the next barricade. This one bringing its batch of problems. The next targets would be in the excess of three hundred yard distances, although my rifle with its 14 inch barrel would reach that distance, I couldn¡¯t trust my skill in achieving such a difficult shot with such a light round, I would most likely miss more than I would hit. So I laid down my rifle and picked up another, one I put there for such an occasion, this one much more suitable for the job at hand. The Vepr rifle, unlike its Dragunov counterpart designed purely off the Kalashnikov series, was designed taking account of the heavier RPK¡¯s receiver, which is a light machinegun compared to the assault rifle that is the Kalashnikov. Allowing it to handle the high pressures present in the upgraded round. Also, the fact that the Vepr is now being produced for the civilian market as a hunting rifle allows the manufacturers to employ tighter tolerances and thus making it more accurate. Slap in a pair of good mount and a piece of glass on top and you have your own big game hunting rifle/ designated marksman rifle comparable to the best ones in the market at the fraction of the price. Both in the rifle itself and the ammo, as the 7.62x 54mmR 440 round surplus tins are sold at an excess of a hundred bucks, delivering the same amount of fun and energy while being cheaper than dirt. There¡¯s also the fact that the SVD Dragunov is almost nonexistent in the civilian market and is very expensive when found. Unlike the Vepr which is available and affordable. I picked up the rifle, even took a second to admire the beautiful checkered walnut handguard, then laid it on the barricade, employing the same technique of pinching the stock to keep it steady. The 16x scope allowed me to easily find the steel target by looking for the bright colored flag placed right next to it. We placed it to help the shooter with easier target location and wind measurements because, I mean come on, it¡¯s already hard enough running hundreds of yards carrying an ten pound rifle and around twenty worth in gear. Throw in a long distance target without proper range finding and no wind measurements then you¡¯re just torturing yourself and not trying to have some manly fun. Looking at the sway of the flag gave me a close estimate of the windspeed and direction. After a quick calculations using the mildots etched into the riflescope, I managed to estimate the distance between me and the target, bringing those two numbers, I have my windage. I held the crosshairs two dots above the steel target and one to the left. I fired and watched as the bullet reach its trajectory and fragment against the hardened steel target and bringing up multitude of dust puffs all around. Ron whistled, ¡°Hit, right on the first shot, very impressive bro considering that you look like you¡¯re going to have a heart attack for a moment there.¡± ¡°My rifles speak to me, they love me and do their best to please me. That¡¯s why I could always beat your ass using comparatively cheap ass rifles.¡± Bullets have their trajectories, the trick is knowing them and knowing your rifle well. Pit a grizzled veteran with an old rifle against a rookie with the latest gear, you wouldn¡¯t have to guess who will leave alive. Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. It would be safe to say that I demolished the rest of the targets set in the range within 500 yards, me, using a trusted and well used weapon system alongside a very good spotter. ¡°Thirty-two seconds faster than your last run, good job bro.¡± Ron said as he looked at the timer hanging off his wrist. ¡°It¡¯s a thing called talent Ron, something you probably never had or even heard of.¡± I said, picking up my rifle then resting it on my shoulder and ending with a pose. He scoffed, ¡°Yeah right, if you call something like that a talent, then I wonder what you¡¯d call my next run.¡± ¡°A failure?¡± ¡°Ha. Ha. Very funny, it¡¯s like you really thought you had a chance.¡± He said then held the radio he carried in front of him. ¡°Yo Nick, it¡¯s your turn. Get to the starting point, oh, and time yourself, I¡¯ll be waiting at the first checkpoint because I¡¯m lazy.¡± Nick was the youngest and the newest in our group out here in the middle of nowhere so it¡¯s customary that he gets shit for it. ¡°Cool, I¡¯ll be running my AR but I don¡¯t have anything that could reliably reach out past 300 yards. Can I borrow any of your rifles for that?¡± Ron sniffed ¡°Let¡¯s see if you could get past 200 first, then we¡¯ll talk. You ready?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Alright, then go!¡± Nick is starting off in the base of the hill and is currently running up. He was wearing a pair of 5.11 tactical pants and a desert tan plate carrier atop his collared shirt. Along with some quality hiking boots, he looked like some character in a movie whose task is to bust down a drug dealer in Cuba during his interrupted golfing session or something. ¡°Jog, don¡¯t sprint.¡± Ron said in the radio and I could see Nick slow down on his ascent. It wouldn¡¯t do much getting to the checkpoint at record time all winded since it¡¯s pretty much impossible for someone to shoot accurately while breathing heavy and having his heart pound like a double kick drum on a heavymetal concert. We got down to the first barricade the same time as Nick, he then quickly set himself up in the most stable position he could afford and laid his rifle on top of the lip of the barricade, employing the same finger-thumb pinch to keep the rifle from sliding sideways. Ron also set himself up in the spotting scope to see where the rounds would be landing and give Nick some tips whenever needed. ¡°Shoot whenever ready.¡± Ron said. I was looking at Nick¡¯s trigger finger to see if he would be jerking his triggerpull, which is a very common thing done by new shooters, and sometimes even experienced ones, it¡¯s just a simple problem that could be easily solved by calling them out when they¡¯re unknowingly doing it. He pressed his finger on the trigger and gave a consistent pull. *CLICK* Nick gave off a face of bewilderment and Ron looked up from his scope and patiently waited, just one of the many common mistakes a shooter makes at least once in his lifetime. Nick pulled the charging handle and took a peek at the chamber, ¡°Fuck!¡± I heard him swore under his breath followed by him dropping his magazine, which fell and hit the barricade with the familiar clack unique only done by an empty magazine. He then fished another magazine from his vest and took a look inside just to be sure. ¡°Sorry about that.¡± Nick said as he slapped the magazine home and charged the rifle. ¡°Its fine, if there is a best time to do your mistakes, it would be now. One of the reasons we do this is to find mistakes and oversights so we don¡¯t get to have them later when it counts.¡± I said. Ron nodded in agreement. ¡°Don¡¯t worry man, people may not want to admit it but everyone has made the same mistakes you did at least once in their lives.¡± ¡°Right. Thanks.¡± He said, his ears turning red. The clock was ticking and everyone went back to their previous roles. Nick settled back into his firing position and looked through his sights, his target would be around the ballpark of a hundred yards, increasing with fifty yards. He took a long slow breath, and gave a steady trigger pull. The rifle went off with a crack. ¡°Miss, you got it centered low with only a little bit.¡± Ron said. Nick made the adjustments and fired the second time, ¡°Hit¡± Ron said followed by the crisp ping of steel. Nick gave off two more shots, producing the same effect, that target done, he moved on to the ballpark hundred fifty yard target. He paused and raised his head away from this scope, and suddenly I saw blood dribbling out of his nose as he raised his hand to dab the bleeding. ¡°Hey man, are you okay?¡± I asked as I bent over to help and noticed blood dribbling out of my nose too. ¡°Adrian, your nose is bleeding too.¡± Ron said who also had blood dribbling out of his nose, the red spots of his blood in stark contrast to his desert tan vest. ¡°You too bro¡± I said, pinching my nose and reaching over to the small of my back where I keep my small medkit or ¡®booboo kit¡¯ as I call it, it had a pair of tampons in it and its perfect for bleeding noses. I put them on, not giving a fuck on how ridiculous I must have looked, and tossed a patch of gauze to the two. The two took the gauze and almost shoved it to their noses. ¡°It must¡¯ve been the heat.¡± Ron said as he looked up at the noonday sun ¡°how ¡®bout we get to the trucks and wait it out.¡± He then groggily stood up and walked like a drunk as he made his way to the parked trucks. I was feeling like shit as I followed his lead, and was trailing behind Nick. He then fell over limp after a couple of steps and hit the hard packed dirt road with a thud. I went over to help him, only to find the ground coming at me fast. I felt weak, really weak and with the last ounce of the feeble energy I had I only managed to look over to Ron who was also on the ground, unmoving. Well. Shit. Book 1: Ch 2 Book 1: Ch 2 I woke up later feeling like shit and opened my eyes to see everything still spinning, a wave of intense nausea then hit me like a truck and I fought all I had to keep myself from throwing up. I shut my eyes closed and groaned, rolling over to my side when I noticed that everything has cooled down. Fucking hell, it must¡¯ve been heatstroke after all. I then took the hose leading out of my camelbak pouch and bit the end, flooding my mouth with the best tasting warm water I have ever tasted. I gulped down mouthfuls of water and gave a sigh, feeling partially refreshed. I then heard retching sounds coming from someone who was heaving out with his empty stomach. ¡°Ron? Nick? You guys okay?¡± I called out, unable to get up, even open my eyes and was only left to rely on them replying to know if they were okay. I lay there for a while, feeling helpless and stupid, hearing the sounds of someone emptying his guts out. ¡°It¡¯s me, Nick. What happened?¡± he asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I¡¯m no doctor but I think its heatstroke. Can you open your eyes? Can you check up on Ron for me?¡± I heard him groan, followed by some scuffing on dirt. ¡°I can, feeling kinda woozy but I think I¡¯ll be alright.¡± A pause ¡°Ron¡¯s on his side, breathing steady, the blood coming out of his nose is all dried up. He¡¯s warm, not hot, I think he¡¯ll be alright.¡± He said followed by the sound of him lying back down on the ground. I rolled over to my back and laid my head down, sighing with the feeling of relief from the knowledge that we¡¯re all somehow banged up but still fine. A few minutes later, the feeling of nausea has died down to a manageable level. I got up feeling like shit and made my way to Ron, who was still laying the same way Nick described. He had drool running out of the side of his mouth, and was breathing loudly which I then realized was snoring. The fucker was somehow sleeping so I guess he¡¯s fine. I looked up and saw the sun covered up with clouds which is what might have saved us there. If the cloud wouldn¡¯t have been there, we might¡¯ve fried ourselves in the desert heat. I looked down to the parked trucks on the base of the hill and judged that I could make it. Maybe drive up my truck up the hill get the two in, button up and turn the ac on. I stumbled my way down the hill and reached my truck, it was parked on the side of the dirt road in between Ron¡¯s and Nick¡¯s truck. The interior was hot when I got in and turned it on, I then closed all the windows and turned the ac full blast. The feeling of the cold air touching my skin felt like heaven, as I slowly made my way up the hill and parked the truck right beside the laying figures. ¡°Get in!¡± I yelled over the open window. Nick got up and went inside, flopping down in the seat with a heavy sigh. Ron was unresponsive, I got out and went around to his side, I judged myself rested enough to carry his ass to the truck so I squatted and tried to put get him in a fireman¡¯s carry. It turned out that I couldn¡¯t so I just half carried- half dragged him inside, I then went in to bask myself in the cool interior of the car not giving a care about the gear we left out in the heat. They¡¯re rated for heavy outdoor use, they¡¯ll be fine. I woke up later with Nick shaking me awake, the sun was just starting to set. I was still feeling really tired while being wide awake at the same time, then stretched myself with the best I could afford in the driver¡¯s seat and looked at Nick ¡°What¡¯s up? You hungry?¡± ¡°There¡¯s some guys hanging around our trucks on the base of the hill¡± he said nodding towards the direction. I opened the window and looked down the hill and saw the guys, I couldn¡¯t make up what they¡¯re wearing in the poor light but they had rifles hanging sticking out their shoulders. Glancing at Nick, I could see that he had the same concerns as mine. Nodding, I got out the car and so did he. We walked down the hill towards the guys checking the trucks, there were three of them and armed with long boltguns, one was looking under the truck while the other was peeking in the windows, while the thirds was just watching the two do their thing. Our rifles were still on the road but were still wearing our vests where we keep our sidearms in a crossdraw along with two spare magazines. We then approached them in a way to have the trucks away from the line of fire, you know, just in case. The third guy in the group turned around as he noticed us, then called for the others. Nick and I stopped in our tracks and almost went for our sidearms as we saw that all the three were wearing some ugly masks while hanging rifles on their shoulders. All of us stared at each other at a standoff in the dying light, ¡°Can I help you guys?¡± I asked. In which the three responded by reaching for their rifles. You see, there¡¯s a thing called a 1-5 rifle drill in the tactical shooting ring. There are three targets set up side by side, it¡¯s started by a cue then the shooter will follow it up by shooting the target at the edges once, usually the left one, followed by two on the center, then three on the other side, the shooter then will go back going to the left adding a round fired on each target by one until five is reached on the first target. Time is measure at the end with everyone going for the fastest. My record time with a rifle is just under three seconds, second only to Ron who had his on a little over two and a half. My hand shot towards my chest, pulling my sidearm in a very swift and efficient motion, only achieved with hours of repeated training, flipping the safety off as I pointed my pistol at the leftmost target and fired, doing the 1-5 drill with a pistol. The guy on the left flinched as I hit my mark, hitting him in the base of his jaw and a puff of dust forming on the ground behind him. I moved my aim to the guy in the middle who just got his rifle off his shoulder and is raising it to our direction, I took my second shot and hit him somewhere, causing him to press the trigger on his rifle and it went off with a loud bang, the round heading off into the sky and I gave another shot on him as he fell down. I heard another bang and felt the heat of the bullet shot on my face as the third guy missed his shot, probably due to a multitude of reasons that I am grateful for. I then transitioned my aim at his direction only to see him charging at me, his rifle raised to bash my head in using the gun¡¯s buttplate, the rifle was a bolt action and the shot he missed is the only one he got. There was still fifteen feet between us and I already had my gun drawn, it only took a millisecond for me to aim at his center mass on this distance, I squeezed the trigger and fired. The guy staggered, and I took two more shots before I realized that he was already going down and slamming his body on the ground and skidding to a stop just a few feet shy of me, his rifle thrown somewhere behind me, carried by his momentum as he let go. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. I took my finger off the trigger and lowered my gun, just as Nick pulled his sidearm off its holster and leveled it at the direction of the three. ¡°Fucking hell.¡± Was all me managed to say as he also lowered his weapon. ¡°You saw it right? They were wearing masks and went for their guns.¡± I said, looking at Nick. ¡°It was clearly self-defense.¡± I felt the shakes coming as I was coming down from the adrenaline high the situation brought. I would say that at the time, it felt good getting to use your training to save your life along with others, and I know it was my primal part that overrode all the cognitive process of my brain and threw everything else away except my ability to fight or flight. I had the ability to fight the danger, to protect life and property and I did it by eliminating the threat. But now that the danger has passed and the primal state of my being has been banished for another time, the consequences of my action are now bombarding me with questions of how it could have handled the situation better. I know I couldn¡¯t, but somehow something is telling me that I could have done something else but failed to do so, only that same thing keeps on keeping silent whenever I asked it how I could have made the better decisions, how I could have been the better man. The sound of someone running took me out of my introspection and I whipped around pointing my pistol at the new arrival. It was Ron, ¡°Whoah! Whoah! It¡¯s me! It¡¯s me! Don¡¯t fucking shoot!¡± he yelled raising his hands. Flipping the safety off, I lowered my pistol the second time. ¡°Sorry, I was feeling jumpy, you know.¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry bro, well make sure you won¡¯t get in trouble for this.¡± He said as he brushed past me and patting me shoulder, making a beeline towards his truck and opening the door on the driver¡¯s side. Not even giving a glance at the bodies lying on the ground. He lit the cab of the truck and rummaged around his truck coming up with a laptop and booted it up, the blue light of the screen reflecting of his face. He then reached over his dashboard where he kept his dashcam. Realizing this, I immediately got into his truck and sat beside Ron was currently looking at the timestamps on the camera as I got in. I waited in worried anticipation to the video, when he yelled ¡°Got it.¡± and played it. The video showed my truck in the dim light, along with the three coming in and out of the frame as the rounded the trucks for a few minutes and stopping with the two out of the frame with the third one just as the edge, talking at someone out of the frame. The camera used to have a mic, but Ron took it out since he thought it too tedious to take out the sounds of his sexual exploits in his car. But now, oh how much I wished that he kept it there just to know what the three were talking about. A moment later, the car in the background opened and two men walked downhill and stopped about fifteen feet behind the three. The guy at the edge of the frame turned around and stood there looking at the two for a second, only to suddenly reach for the rifle hanging off his shoulder. It then showed Nick and I reaching for our weapons, and me drawing it a lot faster than Nick who somehow had it snagged off something in his kit. The video recorded eight muzzleflashes and the two of us left standing. ¡°Damn bro, that was some Robocop shit you just did right there, you didn¡¯t even flinch when they shot at you, just killed them dudes.¡± Ron said, smiling as he looked at me. The smile then vanished and he cleared his throat, ¡°I think we got sufficient evidence for the court to immediately throw it off as justifiable self-defense, if not, I could call in some lawyers to rain down some legal hell to whoever would think otherwise.¡± ¡°Thanks man¡± I said as I patted his shoulder. It¡¯s a relief that I am safe from the law and that someone is looking out for my wellbeing, but the fact that I still took a life with my hands nags at my emotions. Ron must¡¯ve caught my inner turmoil which is why he decided to just keep the silence with me in the cab. Through the windshield, we saw Nick approaching the truck holding a phone in his hand. ¡°My phone¡¯s not working, can you guys try calling the cops?¡± he said coming up to my side of the window. We each pulled out our phone and checked the signal strength, mine came up empty. Weird, it used to be able to reach two bars this far out but it seems that it couldn¡¯t anymore. ¡°Mine¡¯s gone too.¡± ¡°Me too.¡± Ron said reaching and booting up the GPS on the dash. The words NO SIGNAL is all that came up on the screen. ¡°Hmmm, what are the odds of that? Tell you what, how about one of us would run down to town and get the cops to come here while the other two will guard the scene. Cool?¡± I nodded. ¡°I guess there¡¯s no other choice in the matter but as the one involved, I couldn¡¯t be the one to go. It¡¯s either one of you two.¡± I said to the two. Ron looked at Nick who was looking inside the car while leaning the car door. ¡°Nick, you go. Tell the cops you we had a self-defense incident involving guns here. Nothing more, nothing less, ill baby sit Adrian and make sure he doesn¡¯t fall off his chair and hurt himself.¡± He said, grinning as at the second part. I threw a jab on his shoulder in which Ron checked with his wrist, deflecting it away. ¡°Well, I guess you better go then Nick, it seems like Ron¡¯s feet hurts too much for such a trip. Better take your car too, and all your IDs since they might want to check all that before coming with you.¡± Book 1: Ch 3 Book 1: Ch 3 We watched Nick¡¯s taillights as his truck bumped around in the dirt road west to the sunset, a dust trail rising up to the sky. Ron and I made out way around the truck toward the back, taking a lot of care not to come close to the bodies as much as we could. We then opened the truck¡¯s covered bed and are met by the sight of dufflebags, guncases, and ammo packed in surplus military ammunition cans and in their retail boxes. Ron reached into one of the pelican hard cases lying in the bed and opened it, showing me the beauty of what I consider as one the sexiest guns in the world, the Scar-17s, civilian version of the Scar Heavy. I gave a low whistle, admiring the sexy lines and the mismatching desert tan of the weapon system. ¡°Damn, something that beautiful must¡¯ve cost quite a lot, and something I wouldn¡¯t want to know, as I¡¯d like to keep my dreams in my somewhat in my reach.¡± ¡°Well then, dream on!¡± Ron said, then pulled the rifle out of its form-fitted foam and laid it on the bed, giving me a better look of the sexy thing as he rummaged around the rest of the things in the truck. The rifle looked just as the magazines, movies, and videogames had shown it, with its distinct shaped stock and upper, the AR style lower and the mismatched shade of Flat-Dark-Earth. It had an unimpressive looking scope on it, one that costs just as much as the rifle installed on top, an aftermarket flashhider and if I know Ron, a crisp trigger kit perfect for long range shooting. He then found whatever he was looking for and took out another smaller box out of the pile and opened it, making me give another low whistle. ¡°You must be really nice this year since Santa decided to give you something really nice so early this year.¡± I said at the sight of a Generation 4 night vision monocle that Ron picked up and mounted behind the sights, now it looked like it came out of a videogame. ¡°Don¡¯t be such a whiner man, I got you something nice too¡± he said then pulled out another small case, sliding it towards me. He waited for me to open it and I gave a skeptical look toward his direction, he was grinning like the Joker, his teeth shining white in the dying light. I reached over and flipped the locks, it was another Night-Vision monocle, a Gen-3 but it was still expensive and very much sought after, and most importantly, very effective. I guess it pays to have rich friends. With hands shaking in excitement, I reached over to the monocle lying on the case and turned it on as I held it up to my eye. The dark is now banished and replaced and washed with shades of green. I could see miles in the distance, the stars looked ever brighter than before showing me a different view of the beauty of the night sky. There was something I find strange about it though, but couldn¡¯t put my finger on it. ¡°This better not be a joke man, because I¡¯ll be really bummed out if it turned out that you¡¯re just fucking with me.¡± I said as I lowered the device. Ron shrugged ¡°Not at all man, the shit¡¯s yours. There¡¯s not a lot to spend my money on considering my new found philosophy. You can only invest so much on lead, brass, and steel, and not get too much attention.¡± I secured the device back to its case and took it, ¡°No takebacks, alright?¡± I said and walked back towards my truck, leaving Ron as he continued to sort his stuff on the back of his truck, I have my own shit to sort too. The desert night was cold, which is the opposite whenever you think of a desert. Surely a desert must be hot all the time right? It was called a desert after all. The answer to that is a big NO, yes a desert may be hot during the day but when the night falls and the desert finally exhausted its stored heat then you are left with a cold ass night. Ron and I of course knew this when we decided that we relocate ourselves away from the trucks, as we wore thermal underwear and thick, padded camouflaged covers along with a Mylar coated tarp we used to cover and conceal ourselves in the arid desert. The tarp served a lot of things, two of them having to shelter us from the dry desert wind and also, to reflect back the heat we give off back to us, heating us up and also conceals us from any thermal tracking device that could be used to look for us. In short, we don¡¯t want to get found unless we wanted to. I looked to the direction of the trucks using the night vision device I attached on top of my rifle, my expensive AR-10 chambered for the .308 Winchester, a good rifle to be used for long range shots. It was sweet, the crisp detail it gives was such a far cry to my old Gen 1, which could only afford me to see shapes in this distance. The bodies were still there, lying in the desert deader than doornails and are stiff as boards. It had been a few hours since I defended myself from them and Nick still hasn¡¯t returned along with the promised authority. ¡°Lights coming in, west.¡± Ron said through the radio. I turned my night vision device on and I could see the distinct beam of headlights stabbing through the darkness bobbing up and down. ¡°One car, and coming in fast.¡± I replied and Ron sent back two radio clicks in acknowledgement. It was coming in fast, really fast and it was going for a beeline towards the trucks. Try as I might I couldn¡¯t see the features of the vehicle through my NVG, as its headlights were messing up the picture by making the oncoming vehicle a bright white light amidst shades of green. I flicked the off the safety and tracked the ball of light as it bobbed around the arid desert hills and I knew Ron would be doing the same. We held fire, as we don¡¯t know who the vehicle is, yet. The car neared the trucks and started honking its horn, where I finally saw that it was Nick¡¯s truck coming back. It skidded to a halt in front of our trucks and he turned off the highbeams and I could now see that the truck had been somehow beaten up. Bumps, scratches and bulletholes covered the truck, steam rose out the hood and the windshield, along with the windows, were covered with spiderweb cracks. ¡°It¡¯s Nick. Cover me, I¡¯m going down there.¡± I said through the radio, to which Ron sent back another pair of clicks. I immediately shed my cover and ran down the hill with the best speed I could afford without risking breaking my ankle on the rough terrain. With my rifle held at port arms, ¡°Adrian coming in, don¡¯t shoot!¡± I yelled as I came close to the truck. I let the rifle hang off its straps and pulled out a light, shining it to the driver¡¯s side. Nick was there sitting with his eyes closed and wearing a pained face, his shoulder was all red, covered with blood. His breathing is a little ragged, pulse a little weak but steady. I peeled the bloody bandage on his upper shoulder and found a round wound with the blood scabbed all over, it went clean through his right trap. If the round went just two inches left, it would have hit his neck, bursting his jugular and crushing his windpipe, he would have been dead. Running over to Ron¡¯s truck, I reached down under the left rear fender and probed around, I felt a firm object that wasn¡¯t supposed to be there and yanked. It was a medium sized medkit secured with a roll of ducttape, it was filled with bandages, sutures, antiseptics, the whole shebang and ran back towards Nick as I¡¯d have to still clean and close up that wound. ¡°You¡¯ll be fine Nick, I¡¯ll take good care of you and you¡¯ll have your very own cool scar to show off to ladies. Maybe then you¡¯ll at least get a chance to fuck some of them.¡± I said as I wrapped a space blanket around him to keep him warm and moved on to clean his wounds with a saline solution. ¡°Adrian, I couldn¡¯t find the road back to town man. It just wasn¡¯t there man. I didn¡¯t know what to do so I came back and saw some guys hiding in the bushes or something.¡± He said weakly. ¡°Tell me what you saw man, it must be a really cool story on how you got yourself shot.¡± I replied, Nick needed a hospital, but that is miles away and we couldn¡¯t call an ambulance, he needed care now. He kept mumbling even more but what he says doesn¡¯t matter, I just need him to keep talking to keep him awake. After cleaning the wound with the saline solution and probing around it for any foreign objects I then spread a generous amount of antiseptic gel and used butterfly bandages to close the wounds on both side, as even more qualified people might want to take a look at the wound and a stitch would be an inconvenience to both the patient and the doctor. After that, I gave Nick something to help him sleep. If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. After cranking up the heater and closing the door of the truck, I keyed and spoke to the radio. ¡°Nick¡¯s shot in the shoulder and bled out some. He¡¯s fine, all bandaged up and warming up in the truck. Got anything?¡± A pause ¡°Nothing down the road from where he came from¡­. Shit. Get your rifle and get inside the car, you got three huge ass wolves stalking up your direction. They must¡¯ve smelled the blood.¡± Or the bodies. Great, wolves, I did what I was told and picked up my rifle on the truck¡¯s hood and ran in the back of Nick¡¯s truck. With a 20 inch barrel length, it would be easy to assume that it would be very awkward moving the thing around in an enclosed space such as a truck¡¯s cabin. I looked out the windows to try to see the reported animals but couldn¡¯t see past the pitch black darkness, so I tried to put my rifle to bear only to smack Nick on the head with the barrel. He groaned and I whispered a sorry to his unconscious figure. I then turned on the NVG attached on the top of the rifle and looked out the spidercracked windows and was met with three pairs of reflective eyes staring back at me. A drop of cold sweat trickled down my back, I could see that they were all looking at me and were waiting patiently at a distance, and the space between their eyes also suggest that these wolves were big, very big. ¡°Hey man, you got a shot on these badboys? I would really appreciate if you did, these wolves almost look to be the size of bears man.¡± I said to the radio. A .308 Winchester may be enough to hunt a bear at some states but that would require excellent shot placement, something I would be very hard pressed to do with a cramped quarters giving me a very uncomfortable shooting position. ¡°I got a line, but they¡¯re a little too close to you guys for comfort, a miss could mean me accidentally hitting you guys.¡± He said, I swear I could catch shaking on his voice. I couldn¡¯t be really sure though, as the radio might be messing the voices up. ¡°You got this shit bro,¡± I said ¡°I¡¯ve seen you shoot targets five times the distance. Besides, you¡¯re not gonna let a brother down now do you?¡± I heard him take a deep breath through the radio, ¡°Shit, not that you make it look like that, I guess I don¡¯t have much of a choice now do I? Alright they¡¯re staying put for now, so I guess I could make a clean shot on one, leaving you the other two in case they make a run for you guys. Also, don¡¯t worry about the legal consequences, I got you boys covered if we ever do get into trouble. I¡¯ll call out when I send my shot, you might not hear the gunfire since I put a can on my rifle.¡± Shit, I guess Ron really went all out this time, a suppressor would cost someone a grand at least. And by judging on his tastes, it would be safe to assume that it would cost at least a couple giving him almost perfect report suppression. It wouldn¡¯t suppress the bullet crack though, you¡¯ll need a subsonic round for that. ¡°Got it, just call it out and I¡¯ll follow. If we¡¯re lucky they¡¯ll bolt away after the first shot, if we¡¯re not, maybe a full magazine getting unloaded their direction might convince them to.¡± After noticing that Nick didn¡¯t have ear protection on, I remedied it using one of my spares out of my kit, since it wouldn¡¯t be right if he wakes up discovering that he has hearing damage atop being shot in the shoulder and nearly bleeding to death. I then poked the barrel out the spidercracked windows and took aim at the pairs of glowing eyes. The muzzle being outside the car would drastically reduce the sound heard inside the vehicle while maximizing its loudness for the wolves outside to hear. ¡°Ready.¡± I whispered. ¡°I¡¯ll take the one on the left. Firing in three. Three, two one.¡± I heard the bullet whizz by overhead followed by the leftmost one yelping and falling to the ground. The other two simultaneously crouched down and looked at their unmoving comrade. And as if an order has been issued, the two immediately sprang up and charged at the truck with impressive speeds. I have prepared for such a situation to develop but I never expected them to be able to cover around fifty yards of open space in such a short time. In just an instant, the last pair managed to cover the distance between us, but not before I got a shot out to hit one right on the chest, dropping the oversized wolf on its tracks. The truck shook from the hit and risked going on its side from the impact, the already cracked windows were now shattered and the door bent in on itself. I pulled myself back, just in time for the impact and withdrew my rifle before it was snatched away by the wolf¡¯s jaws. I was thrown back to the other side of the truck and saw lightning on my vision as I hit the back of my head on something hard. The truck went back to its four wheels, and my sight is coming back from being black when I felt another impact. I then felt the warm breath of the last wolf as it shoved its head through the shattered window, its neck only allowing its jaws to reach just shy of me and Nick, who is still out cold and is strapped into his seat. If I were to look back on that moment, sitting comfortable on a rocking chair and nursing a cold beer on my hands, it would have been the easiest thing to reach to my chest, pull out my sidearm and shoot the thing on the eye. My self defense load would have entered its brain cavity and turn everything in there into mush, that would have been the most pragmatic and efficient solution. The problem is, at that moment, all that I was only able to do is to keep my arms wrapped around my body and pull my legs back as I was covered with an unexplainable amount of fear. I froze, flashes of my past came up and I felt terrified. The wolf tried snapping at me multiple times and I could smell its breath, its stink, its lust to dig those sets of teeth into my flesh, rending me open, mutilating me, and then killing me. Like a kid, like a dumb kid, I shut my eyes, as if just because I couldn¡¯t see it, it couldn¡¯t see me, if I shut myself in my own shell of a world, it would protect me. I didn¡¯t know how long I kept myself in that state of denial but when I opened my eyes again, the wolf wasn¡¯t there anymore, all I could see in the dim glow of the cabin light was the scattered broken glass. Nick was fine in his seat, still out cold and none the wiser. Now in a clearer state of mind, I cursed at myself for choking up right when the moment counted, I let my brothers down. It was then that I heard the radio squawk, ¡°Adrian, Nick, if any of you are okay in there, let me know, over.¡± I pressed the send button ¡°I¡¯m fine, and so is Nick. I don¡¯t see the last wolf, did you get it?¡± There was a considerable pause as I waited for Ron to reply, ¡°Yeah I got it, and I don¡¯t see any more of them. You two really got me worried for a minute there, you sure you¡¯re okay man?¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m fine¡­ just a little shaken up.¡±I said, then chuckled, I might suffer bouts of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder but at least I get to live long enough. ¡°Well, how about you stay there for the rest of the night, get yourself warm and comfortable. That way we¡¯ll at least have someone with a few hours¡¯ sleep tomorrow.¡± At the mention of sleep, I noticed my eyelids getting heavier, my body crashing down much that I think I could fall asleep in just about anywhere. Stifling a yawn I replied. ¡°Thanks man, I appreciate it¡­.. What a day huh?¡± Ron chuckled ¡°Yeah, what a day.¡±
Don''t forget to share your thoughts, criticisms and recommendations as I''d greatly appreciate the feedback. Book 1: Ch 4 Book 1: Ch 4 I woke up groggily just as the first rays of the sun had just peeked over the horizon, my eyes felt gritty, my body felt sore, my bladder so full I think it could just burst from the pressure, and on top of all that, I never felt so hungry. I stretched, or at least tried my best inside the cabin of Nick¡¯s truck. I checked out Nick on the driver¡¯s seat and saw that he is still out cold and wrapped in a space blanket like a burrito, the bandage on the top of his shoulder had a little red spot of blood that managed to seep out, but that¡¯s just normal for such a wound. The problem is having it getting infected. I dropped my hand and it instinctually found its way to my weapon, a perfect marriage of steel and polymer, designed for maximum accuracy without sacrificing much of its reliability. Its matte black finish topped with a high powered scope and the night vision device made it look sexier as it leaned there on the backseat. Like a big cat sitting atop a rock content on just having to warm itself by the sun. I got out and noticed a tarp, laid on the right side of the truck, I guess to cover up the broken windows of the tuck and not waste the heat inside. I guess Ron did that sometime during last night, thank god for good friends huh? The three bodies were still scattered around near Ron¡¯s truck and Nick¡¯s was surrounded with the wolves¡¯ of last night. I could see some smoke on the other side of Ron¡¯s truck and found him there cooking up a batch of bacon and reconstituted eggs. ¡°Good morning¡± I greeted ¡°did you know you have three dead bodies on the other side of this truck?¡± ¡°Well I hope they aren¡¯t as hungry as I am because we might have to kill them a second time if they do, I don¡¯t have enough bacon and eggs to go around.¡± He said, not bothering to take his eyes off the pan and the brown strips of delicious meat sizzling within. He had his rifle leaning up against the front tire of his truck, well within his reach, it had a suppressor attached to his Scar-17 extending its already long barrel another six inches, along with a top dollar scope and the Gen 4 night vision device attached on the top rail and a bipod attached on the front end. All in all, it looked like a space gun, ready to shoot lasers. ¡°What do you think we should do now?¡± I asked as I sat down on one of the prepared canvass chairs. Ron didn¡¯t look up from what he was doing, as if he didn¡¯t hear the question, ¡°Have you ever tried looking at the bodies?¡± he asked. ¡®I didn¡¯t, I never had a chance. Nor would I even want to.¡¯ I was about to say but knew that it was more of a suggestion rather than a question. I got up and went around the truck, I never really wanted to look at the bodies, and I never really wanted to look at the results of what I¡¯ve done. But I guess this is something I really have to see for myself and take the accountability, as I have just took another life last night, three of them actually. The bodies were there, lying on the dirt, cold and stiff, and just on the early process of decomposition. Their weapons are still where they were dropped, and we never touched them. I stood there, gazing at the bodies and taking it all in, this is me, this is what I¡¯ve done, I¡¯m responsible of this. I tried looking straight at those blank stares when I finally noticed something; tusks coming out of their open mouths, short pug noses and thick forehead all around. What I thought of them wearing masks was actually their faces. I mustered my courage and approached the bodies, taking a closer look of them. I poked around the bodies and discovered that they have natural green skin, under that are well developed muscles fit for any Olympic weightlifter. They also had weirdly shaped ears and black colored eyes. Something just screams from behind my mind that these aren¡¯t human beings, and I¡¯m starting to think that this small voice behind my head was right. I went back around where Ron was and dropped on the seat in front of him, I sighed and ran my hand down my face, ¡°I might come off as being crazy but I need to ask you this; do you think those three, the ones I shot, the ones lying on the dirt on the other side of this truck, are not human beings?¡± Ron turned off the camping stove, he had already cooked more than enough food for three men. He then finally looked up at me and looked me directly in the eye, I could see the weariness in them, loneliness, and grief. He then nodded ¡°Yes, I do think so¡­.. Last night, I was looking at the stars when I noticed that I cannot make up anything from it; no constellations, no North Star, no satellites, no nothing.¡± He paused, looking at the ground he whispered ¡°I don¡¯t think were in planet earth anymore.¡± I was stunned, I was expecting something like us discovering a family of cannibal inbred hillbillies or something, not ¡®were not in earth anymore¡¯ revelation only fitting for fiction. I guess that explains why Ron looked so¡­ lost. Gone was the old confident Ron, the energetic Ron, the ¡®I¡¯m rich and you can go fuck yourself¡¯ Ron. I took a drink form one of the water bottles lying around, man I need something a lot stronger than this, preferably something that will take the edge off or at least knock me off my feet. Ron must¡¯ve already seen this in advance as he threw a silver flask my way. I opened it up and took a swig, it was strong, and smooth, burning down as it moved down your throat and settling down at your stomach. ¡°I guess that somehow explains the lack of cellphone signal, GPS, and the huge ass wolves.¡± I said, then settling down on my seat ¡°But what I¡¯d like to know is that, why us? If this is somehow related to chance, there are about 7 billion of us in the world, the chance of the three of us getting singled out would be miniscule, and so it had to be deliberate.¡± ¡°Or maybe were just in the wrong place in the wrong time, lighting victims don¡¯t get hit because they lived a life of sin or some shit, it¡¯s just that they were unlucky enough to get hit by one.¡± ¡°So we have two theories¡± I said ¡°That still begs the question doesn¡¯t it? What the fuck should we do now?¡±If Ron was right we being in another world, that would mean that no cops would come and take the scene, no morgue to take away the bodies, no hospital for Nick, it would mean that we are all on our own in this strange new land. And judging by the welcoming party, I¡¯m not so excited about what it¡¯s got in store. ¡°That¡¯s the question isn¡¯t it? Now we know how fucked up we are, what should we do now?¡± Ron said picking up three paper plates and put a generous amount of food in them. ¡°For now I think we should eat first. We have a lot of problems to address and I¡¯d like to handle them with a good breakfast, at least that will solve one of our problems, although temporarily.¡± I picked one of the plates and had a bite off one the strips of bacon, the taste of it taking me away from the future problem and dragging me to the now. ¡°Mmm, good plan.¡± I said then walked off, carrying two plates of food towards Nick¡¯s truck. The smell of fresh food atop my already hungry state was heavenly. I opened the door and served the plate up so his nose would catch a whiff of the stuff, and it worked, almost like a vial of ammonia, Nick stirred from his sleep and slowly opened his eyes. ¡°Rise and shine Nick, you aren¡¯t dead yet so you¡¯re going to be stuck with us for a while, whether you like it or not.¡± ¡°Mmm. Breakfast in bed, I guess all you need to do to is get shot to have good customer service around here¡± he said, smiling weakly. I laid the plate on the hood, ¡°Well, don¡¯t expect me to feed your ass. You only got shot on one shoulder, and you got two working legs. Get yourself fed and well take you to the hospital bro.¡± I said, lying. It would be cruel to just drop the bomb on him just as he got woken up. Nick slowly got out of the truck and gave an understanding smile ¡°I don¡¯t think there would be any hospital for me¡± he said, picking up one of the strips with his left hand and munching it down. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. I gave Nick a sideways glance and saw that he still had his same demeanor, does he already know? ¡°What do you mean by that?¡± I asked, picking up my own strip to eat. ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve seen things from that drive that doesn¡¯t make sense for any modern man.¡± He sighed, ¡°Things that are only reserved for fantasy.¡± He looked at me, ¡°You also saw it and I could see it in your eyes. That means you also must¡¯ve lead yourself to the same conclusion, I appreciate what you¡¯re trying to do, but I already know it.¡± ¡°Who shot you then?¡± Ron asked, followed by the heavy footsteps of him coming. He had his rifle slung on his shoulder and his breakfast on his hands. ¡°We might want to know who the hell shot you and peppered you truck.¡± He said, laying his food on the hood. ¡°But of course before that, breakfast.¡± He smiled. After breakfast, I was replacing Nick¡¯s bandages as he recounted the events of his night, ¡°I would¡¯ve never though a night could be as dark as that, I had my truck on its high beam and ran straight without seeing anything for miles, then I saw a cart on side blocking the road. I recognized is as a horse drawn cart, but who would use something like that? Its twenty-first century for Chrissakes. It was on its side, and I could see wooden barrels and crates littered on the side, some were broken and others were just looking old. It was suspicious as hell but I still had to get myself moving so I drove closer, hoping that the light would attract the attention of the carts owners. It fucking did, the forest around me them lit up with gunfire, peppering my truck. Good thing they were shit shots since I managed to stop the truck and do a reverse, making a three point turn and ran back.¡± He pointed at his shoulder wound. ¡°This here is a lucky shot as I took it on the way back, the bullet went through the back window and through me, and lodging itself on my car stereo. Talk about bad luck huh? I knew it was a flesh wound since I was still able to move my arm, so I parked up a ways and patched it up with a quick clot bandage and kept on trucking. So what about you guys?¡± I told him what happened since he passed out, me patching him up and the big bad wolves, I left out some things that shouldn¡¯t be told of course, but other than that I told him everything. ¡°Well I was wondering on what¡¯s the story on those¡± he said, nodding toward the huge corpses. ¡°They must¡¯ve make a very nice rug.¡± Then winced, ¡°So what do we do now? I¡¯m not really in goodworking order so us doing something that wouldn¡¯t involve getting shot would be nice.¡± ¡°We move, you said something about a fork down the road. Well take the other route and well see it from there, anyone got any objections?¡± No one did, we didn¡¯t really have a lot of options here since it¡¯s either that or go to a place where we know well get shot. And since were really not that eager to be, well just take the other route. With that shitty plan and with nothing else to go wrong, we would drive our own trucks after retrieving everything that is of any value. We frisked the tree dead dudes and got around 50 rounds out of them, including knives, and some coins mainly made of copper and silver. Looks like money is still used even in here. Their rifles looked in good working order and we took them too. We even tried retrieving the steel plates we scattered on the desert but they weren¡¯t just there, besides, I wouldn¡¯t value them so high that I¡¯d walk to get them. We also ¡®fixed¡¯ the radiator leak on Nick¡¯s truck and found no other problems except fuel and opted, with Nick¡¯s grudging approval, that Nick would only ride his truck as far as the gas on his tank would let him as we couldn¡¯t afford to support three trucks with the meager amount of gas we had on our jerry cans. With everything all packed and squared away, we parked our trucks facing the direction with me in front. Thinking that I should say something for the occasion; I pressed the send button on the radio ¡°Let¡¯s get the fuck outta here.¡± I declared as I shifted my gears and drove away, followed by Nick and finally, Ron. The forest was silent as we drove through the dirt road and it gives the impression that we really are alone. Actually, it would be generous to even call the road we are traveling on a road, for it is just two lines of packed dirt running parallel with overgrown grass in between. Well, at least it should lead to somewhere right? It did, and it was not a sight that I am sure we all wanted to see. I was coming up on a curve on the road going around an enormous tree when I saw it. I immediately slammed the brakes, almost causing Nick to hit me from behind. ¡°Back up, back up.¡± I said through the radio. We backed up a hundred yards until we came up upon a clearing to which we did a three point turn and stopped when we found a nice hiding spot around a mile away from the roadblock. I got out and so did Nick and Ron, who approached me immediately. Nick was wearing his old 5.11 pants and a new shirt along with an improvised sling to take off the weight off his shoulders. His pistol was hanging off a shoulder holster on his left side but Nick being right handed, I was dubious that he¡¯d be able to use the thing with the wound on his shoulder. Nick was coming right behind Ron who is wearing a set of camouflaged hunting outfit colored for the wrong season. He was carrying his SCAR-17 without the NVD but the rifle looked as sexy as ever. ¡°I was coming around the corner there when I saw an overturned car on the middle of the road.¡± I nodded to Nick ¡°I thought you said the roadblock was on the road to the right and not on the left.¡± I said. ¡°I did.¡± He responded, his face deadpan telegraphing the fact that he¡¯s not in the mood, ¡°I also said that I traveled the road for a couple of hours where we just traveled around one. Unless we managed to loop around, which is very unlikely, this is a different spot.¡± I nodded then pulled up a piece of paper and scrawled up a rough sketch of the road along with the roadblock up ahead. It was rough and ugly, but it¡¯ll serve its purpose well enough. I passed it on to Nick who immediately caught to what it¡¯s for and gave his own two cents. What came up is that we are caught in between two roadblocks. One is hostile, while the other is a probable. Well shit, we might get ourselves another chance to get shot at. No words were exchanged after that, we didn¡¯t need to, because we already know what to do. We are now in a dangerous place and we need to rise up to the occasion as to not fall victim. No one will save us here, no police, no government, no rule of law, just us and what is out there. We all went to our trucks and came back wearing plate carrier vests with level 4 armor plate inserts designed to withstand powerful rifle calibers. Its heavy as hell, but that is the price to be paid when safety is a main concern, that and the pricetag of course. Nick was looking comfortable in his vest so I guess his wound isn¡¯t interfering with it, he isn¡¯t carrying his rifle though, and I am fine with that. I was carrying my AR-15 on a sling, with my pouches full of magazines. Ron was carrying the same, but is fitted with more lightweight and expensive furniture. It was just about noon and we have some light to spare, so the three of us decided that Ron and I would scout out the roadblock up ahead while Nick would stay and watch the trucks. He has a radio with him and would holler if someone unwelcome does find the trucks. With the roles sorted out, Ron and I set out to a flanking route to the roadblock.
Authors Note: Don''t forget to write your comments, thoughts, criticisms, and suggestions down below. Book 1: Ch 5 Book 1: Ch 5 We found a nice spot overlooking the overturned wagon blocking the road and the area around it, but first, we thoroughly scanned the chosen vantage point as any advantageous positions are just as likely to be taken by the enemy. The spot looked to be empty, and we slowly approached it by looping around coming from it¡¯s blindside, confirming it. We settled, laying under a fallen log and pointing our optics on the area in front of us. ¡°Were in position, observing the area now.¡± I said to the radio, keeping Nick informed of our progress as hell be likely to be on edge. It looked empty at first, but then wagons do not simply overturn themselves and conveniently block a road. It took us a while, but we found it. A well camouflaged spot also overlooking the area around the wagon. It was so well camouflaged that the only thing that gave it away is that one of the ones inside decided to go out of the hide and take a piss. I spotted the guy, and waited as he was done with his business and went back to the camouflaged position. If I¡¯m right, it is most likely an observation post as no one would like to spend their days sitting in a hole in the ground if they could help it. Now, the problem lies to where the others are camped out. I left Ron to watch the observation post to get a closer look, as I am the best in our group regarding tracking, I was to find some tracks leading away from the position, which would surely be there. Humans are creatures of habit, likely to use the same routes when going places and are likely to leave a well beaten track if given enough time. Fortunately, I was able to bring and wear appropriate camouflage clothing giving me an easier time to come close enough to the observation point that I was able to find what I was looking for. I notified the two of the discovery and followed the path. Keeping a slow pace, soon I was able to catch a whiff of smoke along with some voices carried over by the wind. I went further, came in even slower and finally found their camp. It was located in a small Cul-De-Sac surrounded by a set of small hills covered by thick vegetation. Looking at it, it was well hidden from any angle, the light of the camp fire and the noises of the men were blocked by the hills surrounding the camp. It is also close the road making it a perfect hideout for anyone wishing travelers ill will. There were around twenty of them gathered around the fire or roaming around the camp. There may be more inside the tents that make up the structures in the camp but it shouldn¡¯t be a lot. What worried me though, is that at least a quarter of them had rifles on their backs, one even had a musket, while the others were hanging swords and maces on their belts and bows on their backs. Their clothes were a ragtag collection so I guess the chance of them belonging to the local law around here is slim. Leaving them to be bandits, thieves, murderers, maybe deserters, a group no one would miss in case we come to that. I looked up and saw the sun was already falling under the forest canopy, the last rays of the sun bathing everything in twilight. It¡¯ll be dark soon, better to move then when there is a lesser chance to be discovered. It would also give me more time to scout out the camp in case anything develops. But nothing else happened and I quietly slipped out into the darkness, marching out into a random direction then making sharp turns and continuing on as to discourage anyone who might be following. I called in my findings and finally went to the direction of the trucks, thankful of the fact that I carried my new NVD. The going was tough, any sound would be carried far during the night, but I persevered, managing to reach the trucks with minimal noise. It would be troublesome if I would lead an unwelcome guest back to our camp. I called in my arrival within the vicinity and approached. It was dark, and no one came to welcome me. Fair enough, I raised my monocular NVD to search for the two when I saw a bright spot coming from a small light source. I lowered my monocle and the pitch dark night was all that I could see. Infrared light, invisible to the human eye. I homed in to the source to find the two hiding in a nook between two boulders, it was big enough to fit all of us with room to spare. It is also well hidden, giving us at bit of security. Ron passed me pack of MRE as I closed the flap serving as the nook¡¯s entrance, there was a flashlight hanging on the ceiling with a red filter serving as our light. I looked at the writing dubiously causing Ron to chuckle, it was to recommended to be eaten sometime next year, ¡°Sorry for the present accommodation, it¡¯s just that I couldn¡¯t book a hotel reservation. I would prefer a comfortable bed and a hot shower, but this beats sleeping in the trucks.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that.¡± I said, ¡°I just find the military version of spaghetti to be the worst thing they could make.¡± complaining as I poured water into the heater packs. Ron grinned, ¡°Well tough shit, I find it to be the best flavor. That¡¯s why I took about three of ¡®em with me in case of an emergency.¡± He then scooped up a spoonful of it and put it in his mouth, closing his eyes with an expression of contentment, not a face you¡¯d expect from someone so well off. ¡°I find okay to be honest,¡± Nick added, keeping the pack in between his knees and using his left hand to feed himself, ¡°I¡¯ve had better, but I¡¯ve also had worse.¡± We continued to eat our meal in silence, finishing it off with a big swig of fresh water. I then reached into my vest and pulled out a notepad, ripping of the page where I drew a sketch of the camp. Ron and Nick looked it over and asked questions about their numbers and weapon composition. I answered every question they threw at me, but I am not a soldier, and so is the other two. We should be back on our homes or doing our jobs, not making a plan to raid a camp. Of course we could just go around the roadblock, our trucks were fitted with powerful supercharged V8 engines, lift kits and winches, they are capable of going off road but it doesn¡¯t mean they should. All it could take is one mistake and we could lose all three trucks. That left us only one other option. We need to use the road, they are blocking it. They¡¯re armed and so are we. Nick came up to one of them and he was shot. They used force on us, which means we should too. I cleared my throat, taking the attention of the two. ¡°I¡¯d like to make this clear, as for us to not dance around the subject. We would be coming in there, with the intent of taking them out, and we would kill them. I am okay with that. I would not risk my life on the slim chance that Nick was shot in accident when he approached one of the roadblocks last night. It is us, or them. I¡¯d rather choose us.¡±I said. The two looked at me for a while, their face impassive then slowly nodded. Were not kids, were not idealists, we realize how dangerous this new world we find ourselves in and we know that we would have to be just as dangerous to even have a chance to survive. Unsurprisingly, we kept our silence in that nook, deep into our own thoughts. Will I get shot? Will it hurt? Will I survive the encounter? I hope so. My thoughts were then interrupted by a series of clicking sounds. I looked up and saw Ron in the middle of disassembling his rifle, he had his cleaning kit laid right beside him and I could just guess his intentions. Thinking about the answers to my questions, I resolved that it really didn¡¯t matter what the answer is. If I happen to die tomorrow, then I would be dead, and the dead doesn¡¯t have any problems. I happened to live, then all is good, worrying about it is just a waste of time and energy. I looked down, laying my gaze into my own rifle, it¡¯s already been cleaned. I know because I just did it this morning, right before we set off. Picking it up and feeling its weight, knowing that these well machine pieces of steel will be the ones who will stand between me and my death, cleaning it one more time wouldn¡¯t hurt I guess. One of the disadvantages I could glean from keeping a base of operations in a cul-de-sac is that the feature that is used to hide you could be used as a vantage point. I situated myself in the hill to the west of the camp, just below the crest and deep in the cover of the thick vegetation that covered it. The fire in the center of the camp has grown smaller as everyone not on guard duty is already on their bunks, asleep. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. I held my monocle to my eye and saw everything under the dark night in grains and shades of green. Sentries were posted up all around the camp, every one of them looking sharp hinting some discipline in their movements. One of the sentries then dropped to the ground, falling down like a marionette with its string cut. That would be Nick¡¯s doing, he called in a while ago that he took care of the two guys in the observation post and is now moving towards the camp. Nick is carrying the only rifle we had chambered in .300 Blackout, a wildcat cartridge that is taking the civilian market by storm. The rifle is fitted with a nightscope along with a suppressor and is shooting subsonic ammunition, the combination of which I find scarily effective. Another sentry went down, unbeknown to his comrades. It¡¯s just that shooting the gun in its present configuration would only give you a slight nudge in the shoulder and the gun giving off a sneezing sound, almost giving the shooter the impression that he isn¡¯t shooting off a 220 grain hunk of metal in just under the speed of sound. I crept slowly forward, keeping my weight on my back foot as I methodically advanced towards the enemy camp. My heart was running a marathon, and my mouth was bone dry. I took a knee just a few feet from the tents and I could just barely hear the crackle of the fire and the light breathing of the sleeping men, then followed by another faint sneeze in the distance. The radio crackled ¡°Sentries out.¡± Nick said. ¡°Then it¡¯s time to rock and roll.¡± Ron declared through the radio, followed by a dark figure sauntering off to one of the tents cradling something resembling and AK in his hands. It was Ron, and I could see from where I am the way that he shoved the barrel of his shotgun through the tent flap. *BOOM!* *BOOM!* The shotgun¡¯s muzzleflash briefly lit up the tent¡¯s interior followed by the gun¡¯s boom. I flinched, anyone inside that tent would be experiencing the business end of a 12 gauge firing a double ought buckshot load. Another shot sounded, this time lighting up the tent more considerably and making it catch on fire. Dragon¡¯s breath, 12 gauge shotgun shell filled with magnesium balls, burns really bright and real fucking hot. Following Ron¡¯s lead, I stood up and went to one of the multiple tents. I could hear confused voices coming from inside, and leveled my gun to their probable position and fired. *BOOM*. I must¡¯ve missed since the occupants inside managed to let out a pained scream. I racked the slide, pulling at the vertical grip attached on the slide hard and sending it back forward with authority, making the distinct two clicks of a shotgun. The occupants then halted on screaming as they heard the clicks, then proceeded to scream incomprehensible words of which I could accurately guess of them saying no. I might have spared them then, but I didn¡¯t. Right then and there, I am a machine, an engine of destruction set upon these poor souls with the intent of annihilating all of them. I pulled the trigger, bathing them with a shower of burning metal and setting them along with the tent on fire. They screamed and it fell to deaf ears as I continued on moving to the next tent. My shotgun was already aimed at the entrance when a man emerged crouching through the tentflaps. He seemed startled by my figure as he paused and looked up at me with surprised eyes. A fatal mistake. *BOOM* the shotgun thundered, the man flinched and slowly sunk down inside the tent, followed by another blast of Dragon¡¯s breath inside. The fire is spreading fast across the camp, lighting up the tents and bringing a wave of panic and confusion among the men. Shadows were darting around, the men of the camp trying to quell the fire that is consuming everything in their path, and others were trying to make sense of the situation. It was time for a quick retreat, to reload. I slinked back to the edge of the camp and crouched into the darkness. Watching the men as I unclasped a pouch attached on my vest, it opened up revealing rows and rows of double ought buckshot neatly secured in loops of nylon, their red coloration shining dangerously in the distant firelight. I then pulled at the shells and went to the motions of reloading my shotgun. *click* *click* Some of the tents haven¡¯t managed to catch fire, and I used the shadow it casted to stay in relative darkness as I crept in closer. There were about ten of them left, all of them were now reduced to milling around as all they managed was contain the fire and let it burn. No one seemed to take charge or order the men around. I smiled, my teeth glinting in the firelight as I took my aim at the gathered group. One of them managed to notice me and whipped around, pointing at me and trying to alert the others of my presence, but it was too late. I fired, and with only a twenty foot distance between us it wouldn¡¯t be hard to hit my shots, especially when shooting a shotgun. The man pointing at me flinched and a puff of dust and ash went off as the buckshot whacked into him and into the unfortunate guy who was too close to him as to be hit by the spread. I racked the slide and sent off another shell just before the first guy had hit the ground, and another pair went down screaming in pain while the others scattered, now finally knowing that there had been an attack. Like having a fire burning your camp and almost half of you number missing wasn¡¯t enough to tell them that. I felt something hard and powerful smack me in the gut, bowling me into my ass and knocking the breath out of me. It hurt, a lot, it felt like someone sent a haymaker down to my stomach. But knowing that it was a bullet sent my way with the intent to kill, I¡¯d take that pain over the alternative anytime. I laid there in the ground for a while, keeping my shotgun aimed up in case someone else comes to finish the job. Rounds snapped, brought the bullets breaking the sound barrier as they passed by overhead. The men up ahead were yelling at each other and screaming, probably pinned down by both Nick and Ron, it¡¯s their job so they better be doing it. Finally, I recovered enough to have my breath back. I then rolled over to my stomach and fast crawled to back to the darkness and safety of the night. The fires are now receding, having their fuels running out and making the darkness of the night creep ever closer to the camp. By then, these people would think the attack would be over, but it¡¯s only just begun. I did a high crawl along the perimeter of the camp with the intention to outflank them, and happened to be close enough that I could hear their whispered voices. They were arguing, probably discussing among them the topic of making a run for it. It would be the most logical choice, they were decimated by an unknown enemy, with unknown numbers and unknown intent, they could only be after our loot, its dark; and maybe we could make a run for it. I managed to have a guess of their positions from their voices and I aimed the shotgun at their direction, and fired. Ron managed to synchronize his shots with mine, or maybe it was Nick? Well, It didn¡¯t matter, what¡¯s important is that we were sending rounds downrange to the enemy, fire superiority. I shot a whole magazine tube¡¯s worth of shells, only noticing it until no more booms wanted to come out of my boomstick. I quickly crouched back down into cover and flicked the shotgun¡¯s magazine tube selector, which was fully loaded with another set of buckshot, one of the advantages of owning a KSG, a bullpup double magazine tube shotgun. Rounds continue to snap by above me, and I could hear less and less moaning and screaming coming from the bandits, thinking that my job is already done and it¡¯s time to let the others take over and finish the job, I finally retreated back. The snapping sounds of rounds flying by getting fainter as I went further and further away.
Don''t forget to share your thoughts, comments, criticisms and suggestions on the comments below. Book 1: Ch 6 Book 1: Ch 6 Will this be our life from now on? Killing people, taking their stuff and running off with it? It¡¯s like we¡¯ve become wolves ourselves. It¡¯s sad, no matter how you look at it. We did the training, the prepping, thousands of dollars sunk to avoid becoming an armed roaming gang. Yet here we are now. The dirt road was dark, with the apparent lack of street lights and the forest canopy blocking the light of the moon. We drove on with our headlights off, compensating the lack of lighting by using our night vision equipment to see the road. The lack of depth perception forced us to travel slowly. Still, even with the unconventionality of it, it is much safer this way. Thankfully, no one got wounded during the raid and we got off with some rifles and crates of stuff. We didn¡¯t check what is inside yet, but we hope it would be worth it. Food, water, ammo, maybe clothes for us to blend with the locals. And I do wish the place this road leads is well worth the life we took to get there. It better be, it has to be. I rolled down the window and peeked my head out. The cold breeze of the morning and the fresh air of the forest welcomed me as the light of the false dawn peeked out behind the distant mountains. Damn, I didn¡¯t even notice we¡¯ve been driving for a couple of hours now, the lack of interruptions and roadblocks must¡¯ve meant that were in the safer area now. I reached over to my radio and pressed the send button giving an audible click, ¡°Status check.¡± I said, holding it up to my mouth. The fact that the others hadn¡¯t done so also means that they too haven¡¯t noticed. ¡°Fuel¡¯s low and the engine is heating up. That patch job just isn¡¯t cutting it.¡± Nick said, following behind me in his truck, all shot and abused but still truckin¡¯. Gotta give credit on the brand for that. Hell, it¡¯s even shown around the world carrying around a dozen armed Taliban on the back and it¡¯s always present in every modern conflict in the globe, from the wars in the Middle East, to bushfires in Africa. ¡°Mine¡¯s half and I¡¯m hungry.¡± Ron followed, riding last in line on his own. A pimped out truck fitted with a lift kit, engine snorkel, skid plates, a winch, off road tires, a supersized cup holder, and all the shebang. He had it all tricked out that everyone looking at the mechanical masterpiece would have their insecurities rise up and think of him as overcompensating. Which is not, he just had more disposable cash to spend on his toys. And thinking the situation we¡¯re in right now, I think its money well spent. I do wish he put in some armor plates while he¡¯s at it too, and maybe even a medium machinegun with tens of thousands of ammunition. ¡°I¡¯m at half too.¡± I said to the radio, leaving the question of fuel unanswered. Once we use all our gas, the chance of refueling would be slim to none. So we better use them smart and use them well. There¡¯s nothing much else to say and we kept our silence as we continued down the road, keeping an eye out for any potential hiding place. About an hour later, we came up on a shallow creek running past the dirt road. I stopped, causing the line to stop I got out and surveyed upstream and saw it take a bend in the forest, hiding it from anyone using the road. It looked good enough and I turned my truck to follow the rocky creekbed. The truck rocked and rolled from the head sized rocks that litter the creek, and I could see the other two following me, their trucks doing the same rocking and rolling motion as they travelled along the length of the creek. I then saw a shallow rise separating from the creek, it was free of trees and looked to dip after some distance. I flashed the hazard lights, signaling them to halt, and stopped the truck ¡°I¡¯m just going to check something¡± I said. The two gave two click of acknowledgement as I got out, soaking my boots and wetting my pants up to my shin, then jogged up the rise holding my rifle in ready. The grass looked to be eaten and I could see and assortment of dried manure scattered all around. The presence of water nearby and the open field makes this place the ideal feeding ground for any herbivore. The clearing was wider than I first thought and I could see some game grazing on the far side of the clearing, about a hundred yards away. I took a knee and aimed my rifle, it was a pair of white tailed deer, a doe and its fawn. Both were both chewing on their own, unaware of the rifle pointed at them. I lowered my rifle, it¡¯s not worth it. The gunshot would raise the attention of anybody nearby and the blood and entrails left of the dressing would attract predators and scavengers alike. Besides, we got a creek already nearby, eating fish won¡¯t kill us. I scouted the clearing a second time and saw a thick patch of trees on the far side of the clearing, perfect. That would be where we¡¯ll park the trucks for the day. I jogged back to our trucks and found Nick splashing some of the creek water into his engine, each splash would make a hissing sound along with steam rising. Ron was carrying around a cooler and is down to his boxers, which is also wet. He had a huge smile on his face and gave me a thumbs up. I gave an exaggerated nod and signaled for everyone to get in the trucks. We topped the rise and parked on the designated patch of trees. We then cut some tall bushes and placed them on our trucks, camouflaging them from afar. All in all, I think we were in a well hidden spot. I approached Nick, who was bent over the open hood of his truck and is refilling the radiator with creek water. He was using one of our filter pumps to clean the water first before putting it in. ¡°How¡¯s the truck? Do we need to call his family?¡± I said, delicately holding a flower I picked off on the side and laying it on top of the engine. ¡°It¡¯ll run.¡± He replied. ¡°As long as it gets a steady supply of fuel and water but I don¡¯t see that happening.¡± He closed the hood and went to the back to filter some more creek water for consumption. ¡°We might have to chop it up and feed it to the others but I hope it doesn¡¯t come to that.¡± ¡°Then I hope it doesn¡¯t. We still have some jerrycans with fuel on them so I guess it goes to you. Just keep it watered, well find a way around it.¡± I said, giving a gentle slap on his shoulder. He flinched, which reminded me of his wound. ¡°Sorry, how¡¯s the shoulder?¡± ¡°Its fine, the hole is all scabbed out now, and it doesn¡¯t hurt as much whenever I move my arm. That was some fine job you did.¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s nothing big. All I needed to do is to bleed the pussy blood out of you and as of now, I think you¡¯re about half a man now.¡± I said then nodded, leaving him to do his thing. Ron was setting up a fireplace and is starting to light up a fire, he had his cooler next to him and looked to be excited for something. ¡°It almost feels like Christmas with that smile on your face.¡± I said as I sat next to him. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± grinning, he reached over to the cooler next to him and flipped the lid open, revealing a trio of the fattest freshwater fish I¡¯ve ever seen, all live and flopping. ¡°Ho, ho, ho motherfucker. Now get yourself lost or something, I got this shit. Breakfast is in an hour.¡± he said, giving me a wink. ¡°Don¡¯t worry Santa, I¡¯ll be nice. I¡¯ll make sure to bring you cookies so you don¡¯t get your low blood sugar.¡± I replied then walked to the outside of the camp, I guess I¡¯ll be doing the guard duty. I did a patrol on the perimeter and only found some animal tracks, some for the white tailed deer I¡¯ve seen from earlier and some rabbit droppings scattered here and there. I found no footprints or anything suggesting recent human traffic which is nice. Looks like I¡¯ve chosen a real nice and secluded spot. I went back to the camp and got myself a length of fishing line, and some of empty cans. I then went on another circle around our perimeter setting up tripwires tied to the cans filled with rocks to serve as noisemakers. Once tripped, it will make a whole lot of racket, giving us invaluable warning and time to prepare a welcome party for our guests. That done, I walked back towards our camp and I could smell the fish cooking in the fire. Ron had the fishes impaled on sharpened sticks and is grilling it on the fire. ¡°Smells good.¡± I said as I sat across him on the fire. I looked at Nick¡¯s direction and found him bent over on his truck¡¯s hood. ¡°What¡¯s Nick doing?¡± I asked. He¡¯s been spending too much time fixing that radiator leak. ¡°He¡¯s manually closing up the busted coils with a pair of pliers. Radiator seal kit won¡¯t be able to fix a bullet hole so he¡¯s just left with that I guess.¡± ¡°He looks to need some help though.¡± I said, looking at the struggling Nick. ¡°Nah, he¡¯s just about done and so is this so how ¡®bout we wait right here.¡± he replied, pausing and looked down and deep into the fire. ¡°You okay bro?¡± I asked, sensing something off about him. ¡°I¡¯m fine¡± Ron dismissed, waiving his hand. ¡°Last night¡¯s just coming to catch up with me.¡± ¡°Want to take a look at the loot?¡± I asked, maybe that will liven him up. It¡¯s not a birthday present but that¡¯s the closest thing we have at the moment. ¡°Good idea.¡± Ron said as he took the fishes off the fire and set them aside to cool. He then went to his truck, leaving his rifle by the campfire. Leaving your rifle in this situation is risky, but I¡¯m not going to call him out on that. Were all having our issues and its best if we avoid getting into each other¡¯s skin as long as we could. Ron came back holding a wooden crate on his hands, it looked to be heavy judging by the veins popping on his arms. He set it down with a thud and drew his heavy utility knife, a Ka-Bar, sliding the blade under the top cover and rocking it up and down. The lid loosened up with a creak and Ron did the same to the other side and took the lid off. We looked inside and were welcomed with a familiar, but strange sight. It was an ammo can. But we¡¯ve never seen something resembling both the can and the crate, and the writing is all wrong, so wrong that it looked to be a different letter script. Not Latin, Arabic, or Cyrillic, it looked to be alien and that left us both dumbstruck. There was one saving grace about it though, is the numbers, it says 7.62x54 and the sight of it was enough to give a smile to both our faces, more so than the number 2080 next to it. Ron opened it with the knife and we could finally see a familiar sight. Bundles of individual rounds wrapped in paper and held by string. I reached in and unwrapped one, revealing the familiar glint of surplus ammunition, it was brass, not lacquered steel and the coloring of the bullet was alien to me, it was light blue and I¡¯ve never seen one before. I shrugged, it doesn¡¯t matter. Its ammo and we could use it. Ron sat down and took a bundle for himself, gripping it tight in his fist making his knuckles turn white. He eased his grip after a while and let it drop back on the pile. He then stood and walked away from it, going to where he put the fishes and put them on what¡¯s left of our paper plates. ¡°Breakfast is ready.¡± He said just as I heard Nick¡¯s footsteps come behind me. ¡°Smells good man, right on time too because I¡¯m just about starving.¡± He said as he sat down be the fire. Ron handed him his breakfast and he nodded in thanks. The three of us then ate our breakfast without a word with me and Nick flashing a glance all around from time to time. Nick the leaned over to me after a while and whispered, ¡®What¡¯s up with Ron, he looked¡­ I don¡¯t know, a little pissed off?¡¯ Ron then looked up at Nick and met his eye, making Nick lean back for an imperceptible bit. ¡°I¡¯m a bit bummed out that the thing we got from killing all those men is a bunch of ammo. Like a fucking video game, rewarding us ammo for killing people so we could kill more. It¡¯s like a fucking sick joke, and I don¡¯t like it. Not one bit.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like it too bro,¡± I agreed ¡°but it¡¯s something we need either we like it or not. We¡¯ll need every bit of everything if we want to continue living in this place. I¡¯m sure we¡¯ll find a safe place for all of us but until then¡­ until then well do whatever we need to do.¡± ¡°I know¡­ I know what to do. It¡¯s just that I don¡¯t like doing it, I don¡¯t like not having a choice on any matter¡° Ron sighed ¡°it just makes me feel so helpless and stupid for some reason.¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t have any choice about what we did. But those men, they chose to fucking block roads and ambush people, that earns them a bullet in my book.¡± Nick chimed, shoving a sizeable chunk in his mouth meeting Ron¡¯s gaze up front. The two looked at each other for a while. ¡°That earns them a bullet in my book too,¡± Ron nodded ¡°but I don¡¯t think that¡¯s the main problem here, it¡¯s that I know well be doing this for a little while longer than any of us would want.¡± He paused ¡°if you know what I¡¯m sayin¡¯¡± Nick nodded and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, pinching a nice chunk of fish and tossing it on my mouth. Reaching for a drink, I then heard the sound that I¡¯d rather not hear on any occasion. *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK*
AN: Don''t forget to share your thoughts, suggestions, and criticisms down on the comments below. Also, if you like this story enough to write a review, please do so. Any constructive feedback would go a long way into improving the quality of the novel. Book 1: CH 7 AN: I couldn''t find the simpler versions of some of the words I used on this chapter so... yeah.
Book 1: CH 7 *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* It was the noisemakers I¡¯ve spread out in the perimeter of the camp. The three of us looked at the direction of the racket and immediately dropped our meals, then reached for our rifles as we stood up and ran to take up positions to meet our unexpected guests. I took up position near behind a fallen log, facing the direction of the noise and holding my AR in my typical underhand pinch position. I then tapped my vest and felt the assuring weight telling me that every magazine was loaded and my sidearm is in its holster. I looked behind me and judged my forest camo is hiding me well enough to be nicely hidden. Good. I looked to the side and saw Ron lying prone behind a half buried boulder and is using it as a rest. He was armed with the same AR-15 as mine but with different ergonomics and scope. Nick was holding his own AR and was crouched behind a tree, looking at everywhere except from where Ron and I are facing. It¡¯s his job to make sure we don¡¯t get flanked. He was carrying his rifle on the left handed position and is scanning the forest to the best of his ability. A burst of movement around fifty yards in front took me out of my thoughts. I then snuggled close to my rifle and aimed it at the direction of where the movement came from. All I could see is a bunch of trees and bushes in that direction but I know it¡¯s there, whatever it is. A man then burst out of the thickets and went directly towards our direction, he was holding a bow in his hands and is terribly unaware of our presence. I held my fire. He looked to be frantically running away from something and I thought it better to be prepared for that instead. The man kept running and almost reached me when Ron came out from his hiding spot and tackled the man square in the ribs. The two men went down and Ron wrestled the man to lay on his belly, his arms held behind his back as Ron pulled out a pair of nylon handcuffs. He then slapped them on and dragged the man away as he attempted to feebly struggle free from the cuffs. A mighty roar then echoed in the forest followed by a grizzly bear charging out of the bushes directly following the man. Seeing the bear, I immediately thought to be inadequately armed, my 5.56mm rifle is designed to take out man sized targets, and not bear sized ones. Nevertheless, I fired. A bear¡¯s skull would be too thick for this caliber and would just piss him more than what¡¯s necessary so I aimed at the bear¡¯s shoulder instead. The bear staggered up a step and slowed down. I fired another volley of shots on the same spot and the bear roared in pain as its legs buckled and it skidded to a stop. It tried getting back on its feet but it failed to keep its weight, making it crash another time to the ground. It lay there for a while, having its fight shot out of it, and panted. Seeing the bear in pain tugged at my heart for a while, the things I¡¯ve done going every grain that is a humane kill. This is my doing, and it¡¯s causing unnecessary pain for a creature that doesn¡¯t deserve it. I must¡¯ve stood there for a while as a hand grabbed my shoulder and I looked behind to see that it was Ron, he was holding his Scar-17 in his hands and is handing it over, telling me wordlessly that it¡¯s my kill to finish. I handed my rifle over and took his, a .308 Winchester through the brain cavity would be enough to kill a bear. I stood up and raised the rifle to aim at the bear lying in a pool of its blood. It saw me but didn¡¯t move, it couldn¡¯t move, only able to make a low growl at the sight of me and raise his head to look at me. I centered the illuminated crosshair at its head or more precisely, its eyes, and fired. The rifle cracked, and the bear dropped its head. Its dead, and I noticed the silence of the forest for the first time, only to bring its din back like the rising of the tide. ¡°Good job bro¡± Ron said, giving me a gentle slap on the shoulder. ¡°Thanks¡± I replied as we exchanged the rifles back and turned towards camp. There we found the man still on the ground, lying on his stomach, right where Ron left him. He was being guarded by Nick, who is still scanning the area for any threats. ¡°I think we got them all bro.¡± I said, then added, ¡°Nice tackle by the way, I saw that.¡± Ron nodded. Nick lowered his rifle and nodded towards our captive. ¡°What about this guy?¡± he asked. The man started to struggle on his restraints as Ron got him on his feet and shoved him against a tree holding him there. ¡°This was the man the dead bear over there is chasing.¡± He said. Ron then proceeded to frisk the man thoroughly making him squirm and struggle a little harder. He came up with a dagger on a leather sheath and passed it on to Nick. ¡°Nice piece¡± Nick commented as he took it. Ron then sat the guy on the ground and spread his legs wide. I looked down at his face and he looked up to meet mine. The guy looked about our ages, about twenty five, matted brown beard covered half his face while days old grime covered the other. His blue eyes looked at me full of determination and of rock solid toughness. The eyes of a survivor. I looked at the rest of his gear and it was what you¡¯d expect. It was custom made low quality, ghetto shit. His jacket was made of patched up leather hide from around five different animals, the stitches have just about given up and he stinks up to high heaven too. Not that I¡¯d hold it against him, but damn! The thought that I might end up like this guy, kind of concerned me quite a bit. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. His eyes then flashed a look into my rifle when he thought I wasn¡¯t looking so I drew my sidearm and cocked it, sending an unspent bullet to come flying out of the ejection port. His eyes followed the bullet as it arched in the sky and took his eyes back to me as I pointed my gun at his face, he flinched and instinctively looked away. ¡°So he knows guns too.¡± Ron muttered, then looked at Nick. ¡°Cut him loose. No, actually just bypass the lock on the cuffs so we can use them later.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry bro, I got him covered.¡± I said, seeing some hesitation coming from Nick. He nodded at that and went behind our captive, he didn¡¯t even made a squirm as Nick took off the nylon cuffs off him and only moving to rub at his wrists when it was gone. ¡°Many thanks. For. Bear.¡± The man said, catching us by surprise. It would be a given that no one would know a word of English in this new world. He said it on a terrible accent though, revealing that it¡¯s not his native language. ¡°So you speak English?¡± Ron asked, stepping in front of him as he tried to get up. Nick was still behind him and could respond immediately as back up in case the guy tries to get smart and goes to grabbing guns. ¡°Yes. Slightly.¡± He replied, raising his hand and making a small measure between his forefinger and thumb. ¡°Can you tell us the reason you got yourself getting chased by a bear?¡± I asked, lowering my pistol and pointing it at a safe direction far away. ¡°I bait. For another. More help¡­ Please.¡± He said, pointing in the direction he came from. I sent a glance to the two which they met and each one nodded. ¡°Stay here, the three of us will have to talk this out.¡± I said, nodding towards one of the trees that is out of earshot. The man nodded and we went towards it. ¡°It could be a trap,¡± I said just as we got out of earshot. ¡°It could¡± Ron nodded ¡°he could also be telling the truth, and we need someone to teach us the local language to even have a chance of surviving here.¡± He sighed ¡°that shit outweighs the chance of this being a trap.¡± ¡°Maybe he needs help to move his furniture¡± Nick quipped, taking a casual glance towards our guest just to see if he¡¯s still there. He is, and he kept glancing back towards the direction he came from more and more. ¡°He looks to be about ready to book it. Maybe he really is telling the truth.¡± I said, ¡°Nick, you stay with the trucks and guard the camp. I¡¯ll be the one to go with him and Ron will follow in a distance to serve as backup. Anybody objections?¡± there was none and we broke off. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll help you.¡± I said as I approached the guy. The look of relief flooded his face and he babbled on some language I couldn¡¯t understand, which is probably the local language. He continued on, waving his hands to where he came from that I had to wave him down to shut up. ¡°Wait here.¡± I said, walking back towards the center of the camp and nodding towards Nick who was still standing around nonchalantly and acting as a guard. It¡¯s good that the trucks are well hidden, else the guest might have seen it. That would be a bad thing to happen, for him and for us. I approached the spot where we parked that trucks and found Ron standing by the door on his truck, his gear was laid atop the seat and he was taking inventory. ¡°You might wanna keep the Scar with you bro. we don¡¯t want be caught lacking by the department of firepower.¡± I said. ¡°What are you gonna get then?¡± Ron replied glancing at my AR. I hefted the rifle and shrugged. ¡°You already got the long .308 so I might as well take the short one for myself.¡± Ron grinned, ¡°You always take the short, that better not mean anything.¡± he said, chuckling. ¡°How about you take my .300 black instead. It looks a lot like your rifle and might fool the guy, it wouldn¡¯t hurt having him think that we only have a rifle for each of us.¡± ¡°And when it comes to a fight. It¡¯s always best to be underestimated.¡± I replied, leaning my rifle inside the truck¡¯s cabin. ¡°So, where is it?¡± ¡°It¡¯s in the back. The bag in the right, the magazines are colored orange so you can¡¯t mix them up.¡± Ron said, jerking his head towards the direction. I went around and opened the covered truckbed and saw the same array of boxes and duffel bags I saw the first time. I took the bag in question and opened it, revealing a trio of guns clattering inside. There was a Remington m700 in there, an AR rifle and a double stack m1911. I took the AR and made sure to replace the magazines in my vest with the ones painted in orange. That done, I put the bag back on its place and closed the bed. ¡°Your .45 was missing when I checked the bag.¡± I said as I found Ron already kitted out, he was rocking the same Scar-17 he loaned for me and his vests were bulging with magazines. A knife hung upside down on his left shoulderstrap and his sidearm also hung in a crossdraw, just like mine. ¡°That¡¯s new. It used to explode on your hand but now it¡¯s missing huh?¡± Ron shrugged then looked at his watch. ¡°Well, don¡¯t you have a date around the woods with that guy?¡± I gave him a gentle slap on the shoulder, ¡°Be careful bro.¡± I said as I went past. ¡°You too.¡±
AN: Don''t forget to share your thoughts, suggestions, criticisms in the the comments below. And please do rate or write a review if you find the motivation or the time to do so. Book 1: Ch 8 So google docs'' spellchecker sucks for me and I might have missed some typos. Enjoy.
Book 1: Ch 8 We¡¯ve been backtracking for about half an hour ever since we¡¯ve left camp, but despite that, we¡¯ve been having considerable progress following the track the bear had left behind. The track was just as obvious as one could make it, big swathes of forest undergrowth all flattened as the bear plowed through in pursuit of the dude. His name is Sydell, only Sydell, he doesn¡¯t have a last name. We were definitely going to the deeper parts of the forest, moss covered rocks litter everywhere, old trees with gnarly branches blocked our path forcing us crawl over and under them, and the constant uphill hike were having tells me that we are going someplace normal people doesn¡¯t go. Sydell tries talking whenever he can and I was always there to listen in on his bad English. From what I could gather from his very broken and limited English, he was a hunter that also acts as a gatherer of what it think are herbs that are probably found only in the forests. He was armed with a longbow with no arrows. He said he lost them when he was running away and only managed to get ahead of the bear, which could sprint in speeds a lot faster than any man, by jumping over fallen logs, purposely going through bramble bushes, and climbing over trees. Confirming it all by looking at the tracks left by the bear, I was impressed. Having to survive a bear attack tells a lot about a person¡¯s capabilities. We came upon a huge cliff face that reached about a hundred feet up, it was all covered with healthy green moss, which means that a source of water is nearby. We then followed its length, Sydell looking at every nook there is in the rock looking for something, whispering ¡®Cyril¡¯ every time. Which I then realized was a name. Just as Sydell put his head in one of the cracks I pressed the send on the radio to contact Ron. ¡°Ron, the guy¡¯s looking for someone name Cyril. I repeat looking for someone name Cyril.¡± I said. ¡°Roger that, I got eyes on. It¡¯s all clear so far.¡± Came the reply. I took a casual glance at the forest around us but of course couldn¡¯t find Ron. One thing is for certain though, is that he have a clear view of the immediate area around us and is very capable of taking out any threats that arise. Overwatch. Thank god for guardian angels. Just then, Sydell went in one of the cracks. My heart started racing as this would be the best time go get ambushed. A hail of fire come would just come out of nowhere and hit me while he is in perfect cover, I then crouched beside a pretty big rock but no bullets whizzed by and no hostile fire came. I immediately followed by standing outside the crack and pointed my rifle inside, turning on the light attached at the end and illuminating the dark space inside. I could see his back, fiddling with something, and I hovered my finger above the trigger. I then heard a whimper coming from someone else in the space. Sydell, then dragged the person in question and came up with a kid. The kid was dirty and sickly, and he screamed in pain just as Sydell pulled him out of the crack and into the light. His right leg hung limp and at an unnatural angle. It was then I realized that this kid must¡¯ve somehow broken his leg in the wrong place and in the wrong time forcing Sydell to use himself as bait to lure away the bear and safe his life. I¡¯m not going to compliment the guy for doing that since it¡¯s so risky that it borders to being stupid. I shrugged, the world is full of stupid people and that¡¯s what makes it so interesting. I gently laid my hand on Sydell¡¯s shoulder, he looked up at me and I nodded for him to step aside. I took a knee as I examined the kid¡¯s broken leg and I could see that the kid had his shin broken, just about two inches below the knee. I then cut his pants open and I could see the bone sticking out, and sharpened bit of pale yellow amidst the sea of red. Man, this is going to suck a lot for the kid. I pulled out a handkerchief off my pocket and folded it so it would be thick enough to be a gag and gave put into the kid¡¯s mouth. He looked at me with the same eyes as Sydell which then I realized that he was his brother. The kid soon understood and bit on the handkerchief hard, breathing faster and faster as I slowly probed around the break for any complications. There was none, and I slowly but firmly pushed the bone back inside, this caused the kid to scream bloody murder and struggle under his brother¡¯s firm grip. The bone popped back in and the three of us finally breathed a sigh of relief. I then picked up a pair of strong branches laying around and measured it against his other leg then into the other, wrapping up the leg into the branch in both the ankle and the knee making a splint. It looked to be as good as I could make it and I patted the kid the thigh for a job well done. He¡¯s a tough kid, I gotta give him that. Sydell then reached into one of his pouches and took out a bunch of herbs, he then crumpled it up and handed it over to the kid to chew. The kid took it and by the scrunched up look on his face, it must¡¯ve tasted like ass but the kid still kept chewing on. Of course I could give him some pain relievers from my kit but I thought otherwise. The kid is cool with it so why bother. I stood up then reached for my radio ¡°Sydell¡¯s got a kid stashed up with a broken leg. I patched him up the best I can, I seems that it was never a trap. We¡¯ll need a stretcher to move the kid, which leaves you to be the guard.¡± I said while dusting off my pants. ¡°Roger that.¡± Ron responded. By then I was feeling the initial stages of sleep deprivation. I felt tired, sluggish, but we still had something important to do. We need to get this kid somewhere safe, and preferably clean as infection would kill him just as dead as a bear or a bullet. I looked around forest for anything i could use to make a stretcher and found a pair of saplings. I approached them and found them within preferable thickness. I then pulled out my fixed blade survival knife and started whacking. Both fell soon enough and I dragged it towards the two. Sydell looked at it and up at me, it took him a while but he figured it out soon enough that he immediately whittled the saplings down to a pair of favorable sized poles. A length of vine would serve as the bed of the stretcher and Sydell and I weaved them to the poles making a really rough looking but functional one. That done, we were about to lift the kid to the litter when we a rustle of bushes alerted us to a presence, it was Ron, looking nonchalantly at both the kid and Sydell¡¯s surprised look. ¡°You guys ready?¡± he asked, lifting his rifle to his shoulder and scanning the forest. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. I looked at the kid and he nodded, ¡°Yeah, were ready. Sydell, you point the way.¡± I said. Sydell nodded and pointed at a direction going to the edge of the forest. Ron followed it and lead the way. We then followed with the stretcher with me leading it. The going was tough and slow, the forest floor doing everything it can to make the travel a bit harder for any of us. I could feel sweat trickle down my back along with my arms burning, Sydell says that were close but he was saying that for a while now and I think well need to have some rest soon. Ron offered to swap places with me but I, of course, refused, as it would be best that we would have someone fresh and ready to fight when the need arose than have two exhausted men. At least that¡¯s my reasoning that I''m slowly starting to regret. ¡°Were here¡± some voice said and I felt enormous relief on those pair of words. Looking up, I realize that it was Ron who said it who stood by a well worn path snaking around trees and up to a hill where a hut was built. At a distance, it looked old and worn out. But in a closer inspection, it was not, the foundations were made of solid stone dug into the earth with thick pillars to support the walls that are all made of sturdy wood. Ron then approached the wooden door of the hut and took off the crossbar locking it down, he then slowly opened it and went inside. We stood there outside holding the burden in our hands until Ron came outside after a little while ¡°Its clear¡± he declared. Sydell and I then brought he kid inside and placed him in the cot. That done, Sydell went outside and came back with an armload of firewood then immediately went to work on the central fire. With nothing to do, I looked around the hut, the light coming in from the door afforded just enough light for me to see cloves of herbs hanging off strings. Their distinct smell adding to the natural smell of the hut. Sydell has now erected a pyramid of wood and is working on making the starting fire by striking two pieces of rocks together, each couple of strikes only affording a meager amount of spark hitting the bundle of tinder he placed. If this goes on, it will take a while to have us a fire. Seeing the guy¡¯s struggle, I looked at Ron and he looked at me. He raised a questioning eyebrow and I jerked my head towards Sydell. Ron shrugged and poked his shoulder with his finger, making him pause and look up. Ron took a knee then pulled out a disposable lighter. He held it up for Sydell to see and pressed the button thus making a fire holding it in his hand. I could just see the surprise on his face as if it was his first time seeing a fire, as Ron took the bundle of tinder and lit it. He then tossed it into the rest of the firewood making it a lot bigger. Sydell looked at the lighter with awe to which Ron handed it to him. He took it carefully in his hands and looked back, as if asking if he could keep it. Ron nodded. ¡°Many, many thanks, along many others.¡± Sydell said and he smiled, doing a bow before carefully putting the lighter on one of his pouches. He looks to be a really good kid, its just that his circumstances in life forced him to look at life in the ass. After seeing the exchange happen, I looked at the Cyril¡¯s leg, it looks good. No infections and no excessive swelling, with proper care, he''d be able to recover fully in month¡¯s time. He¡¯s going to need a leg cast to which we don''t have a plaster of Paris. But we could use powdered lime and make it harden but where are we going to get that? The other problem would be that he''d be very limited by those months and judging by the look of this place, both men rely on each other for their daily living. Those would be very difficult months. I looked at Cyril and he looked to be in deep sleep, i guess we have the herb to thank for that and its another good thing that this world had their own medicinal plants down pat. Catching Ron¡¯s attention, i gestured for a word outside. We got outside and I realized the sun had just reached its height and its right about time for lunch. My stomach rumbled but what¡¯s more important is that my body is already starting to complain from all the fatigue that I could just about use sleep more than a meal right now. ¡°You''re thinking that wed stay here for a while¡± Ron stated. He was right, I was about to say the same thing. I guess that''s what being friends for a long time would do. ¡°Yup, got any other ideas? At least that way, we got a way to know more about this place, and maybe even have a chance to live among them.¡± ¡°What about the guy¡¯s we killed, their friends could track us down, maybe this kid could be one of their relatives.¡± I scoffed, ¡°track us through at least fifty miles of dirt road and forest? They could try, but I could bet that they would have lost the desire to keep pursuing us after the first twenty miles. There''s also the fact that our tracks would get cold, or be erased completely. Were not in earth anymore bro, at least in the twenty first century, we wont have predators in the sky tracking our locations. All the enemy have to track us are the tried and true old methods, and we sure as hell know those aren''t all that reliable, as to the last question, do they look like they have someone else other than themselves?¡± Ron smiled, ¡°Don''t worry bro, I''m in the same page as you. I''m just asking questions to have another view at the same problem. Besides, I think we could really use some new friends right about now. We have to have to stop killing everyone we meet after some time right? So why not start now?¡± I nodded, ¡°I think Nick would be glad of the decision since he wont be forced to abandon his car anymore. He''ll have to store it someplace but at least hell know that it''ll still be there when hell get back.¡± ¡°One question though, do you think we can trust the two? They could try and take our shit from us.¡± I gave another nod, it was a legitimate concern. The fact that we only have the three of us carrying this amount of gear with us would mean that anyone who knows their value would be tempted to try and take it. It''s like being surrounded by hungry dogs all covered with barbecue sauce. You couldn''t know if the dog coming closer to you would want a pat or a chunk from you until the do.¡°I trust them.¡± I said. Hearing that, Ron grunted and looked around, slowly taking in everything that is in this place. ¡°Well, I do hope you''re right.¡±
AN: Don''t forget to share your thoughts, ideas, and criticisms. Do recommend the story to others if you think it deserves it. Book 1: Ch 9 Extra long chapter for you guys to make up with the lack of action.
Book 1: Ch 9 We got back in the house and was met the second time with the combined scent of drying herbs and a long dead fire. The interior was starting to warm up now and place was starting to give the impression of coziness. Sydell was by the fire, and was throwing bits of herbs on a water filled pot, he looked up at our entrance and waved us to come on in while giving the smile of a welcoming host. We sat by the fire and noticed a dried strips of meat hanging off a hook just above it. I was initially surprised by the sight but immediately understood that this land¡¯s technological level is still far away from having a fridge. That meant that the only ways of preserving meats are by drying, salting, or maybe pickling there may be other ways of preserving it that I haven''t known off but that¡¯s just me. Thinking that this would be the best time to break the news, I looked at Ron and he nodded. After clearing my throat to take Sydell¡¯s attention, I started my pitch. ¡°Sydell, we''ve come from a land far away with no place to go and we would love to stay in this part of the forest. We do not have anyone chasing after us, it''s just that we cannot go back.¡± I said, slowly enough to be understood but fast enough not to sound condescending. Anyway, it didn''t matter that much since Sydell understood it immediately and nodded deeply, he then spread his arms wide and declared, ¡°My house, you house. Forest belong everybody, everybody welcome.¡± I smiled and so did Ron, we both nodded back in reply and gave our thanks. I then looked around the lit interior and decided that it is indeed too small for five men to live in. it will suck in the future, but we will have to make do. No one ever said survival is comfortable. That done, I excused myself and got out of the house, a cool forest breeze welcoming me as I left the hut. There was an A framed in the side of the clearing right next to a tree stump, it was filled with chopped wood and I could see a splitting axe leaning against the accumulated pile. Other than that, there were nothing else in the property, I couldn¡¯t see an outhouse nearby so I guess these boys would just pick a direction in the forest and dig a hole to do their business. That¡¯s just unsanitary and unsafe. I guess that¡¯s a project to start on. I shrugged and put the thought of digging an outhouse for another time. I then pressed the radio ¡°Nick, come in.¡± I said. CB radios can reach up to an excess of 25 miles depending on the antenna used and the terrain, and mine would probably reach about under three. ¡°Everything is clear up in here.¡± came the reply, a little scratchy but still understandable. That should mean that he¡¯s around three miles away from us, I guess. ¡°Shit¡¯s all clear and were in the kid¡¯s house. We made sure that we want to stay around these parts of the forest and they are willing to share, the kid also offered his own small hut for us to sleep in. Just sit tight, we¡¯ll come get you, cool?¡± ¡°Cool.¡± After that, I went back inside and fetched both Ron and Sydell. One was to serve as backup while the other will be the guide. Besides, we still have a 500 pound bear dress and the more hands we could get to work on it, the better. A gentle breeze blew through the hilly forest as we made our way back. Birds chirped their songs and an occasional rabbit would peek their head above the foliage. This is what the call an untapped forest, unsullied, virgin, if I would choose one word to describe this place, it would be peaceful. A peaceful place, let¡¯s hope it keeps itself that way. The trek back to the camp took us about an hour, it was a straight shot march down from Sydell¡¯s hut to our camp. So I guess him running within our perimeter was not an accident. Hell, I¡¯m not complaining, at least we got a bear and a friend out of that deal. We called in just as we got close to the perimeter and we were met by Nick just as we went past the tripwires. We then went immediately to the bear carcass as we are literally burning daylight. We laid the carcass on its side then went to the process of skinning it. Now naked, the bear looked lean, probably just coming out of hibernation which would explain the reason it was chasing after a person. An easy prey for sure, it was just unlucky enough to come across us. We then finished gutting it and hung it on its hind legs on a sturdy tree branch with a length of paracord. We left it there, headless and pawless, for a while to let it cool down some more and to drain the some of the bear juices out. With that, I went to my truck to get me a more appropriate tool for butchering and came back with the tomahawk I kept there for an unexpected occasion such as this. It''s made of carbon steel and I always keep it sharp so it should be enough to cut through bone, if not, I also have a saw for that. Blood had already pooled underneath the carcass as I got back and the four of us then went to the work of manhandling the big pile of meat, first by peeling off the meager amount of fat it had saved up and then moving on to that sweet red meat. After about half an hour, we had a nice pile stuffed in garbage bags along with the edible organs, the bones put aside for prolonged boiling and the sinew saved for whatever Sydell was planning to do with. Next is the long trek back to the hut. Since we couldn¡¯t simply carry the loads on our backs, we made it so that well have to carry the haul in trips of two. That means well have to carry about under two hundred pounds between the four of us. We then made travois and put the loads there, we could attach it to our belts leaving our hands free while we drag the weight through the forest. It¡¯ll make a whole lot of tracks leading back to our new home but it¡¯s not like we¡¯re trying to hide anymore. Better yet, let anyone know that we have able bodied men stationed nearby to act as a deterrent for anyone planning of bumping us off the forest. Still, it begs the question though, where the hell are all the people? Towns in medieval Europe should be close to each other that a person walking would arrive to the next town within a day, even two at max. We drove for hours in which I estimated to be about seventy miles, we should have come across a town during that time but we didn¡¯t. Of course, we could have just happened to travel in the most uninhabited part of the road but I don¡¯t see that happening. There has to be a reason for all of that. We reached the hut and placed the meat inside, the strong smell of drying herbs should cover the scent of meat and thus wouldn''t attract any unwelcome critters that may come sniffing. We then went back for the second trip and got it back here just as the sun was starting to set. We then impaled the cuts of meat on sticks and placed them inside Sydell¡¯s smoking pit to process some of the meat. However, the pit could only handle a couple hundred pounds of meat at a time running at maximum capacity. That meant we have another couple hundred pounds of bear meat and organs to process some other way. With the problem of having too much food, Sydell lead us towards the back of the hut where we found a big clay pot that was being used as water storage. It looked to have the capacity to contain about twenty gallons of water and we carried it up to the hut and made a firepit big enough to accommodate it. We then boiled the water and placed the meat inside along with the bones, and finally putting herbs and root crops for added taste. The concept is that if we always have the fire under it burning and the meat inside always cooking, it wouldn¡¯t spoil. The hunter¡¯s pot. It¡¯ll taste a little bland for a while but as long as we keep adding something the flavor would get richer and richer. But that is for the future, as for now, were content with putting some of the meat, along with some other organs, in the grill for dinner. Now with three separate fires burning around the hut, the place reeked of smoke as the three of us sat by the fire outside. ¡°Oh shit.¡± I muttered as I suddenly remembered something, I then stood up and reached into my vest, doing a little dance as I removed the armor plate. The matte black armor plate shone dully in the firelight as I searched the spot where I was shot last night. I then saw a small hole on the plate laminate and I peeled it enough to see the ceramic insert underneath, I could see a stain on it but no dent which means that the bullet fragmented as it hit me, transferring its energy and knocking me into my ass. Without it, it would have hit me square in the gut and taking my life fast by bleeding out or slow by having my shit mix with my blood and poison me, killing me within days. I sighed, then passed the plate to Nick who was seated next to me. He looked at it for a while ¡°Damn¡± he said and gave me a gentle shoulder tap as he passed it on to Ron. Ron lifted it and peeled the laminate and whistled ¡°I would bet you already got your money¡¯s worth with this. Anything more would just be a bonus.¡± he said handing it back. ¡°Well, that¡¯s the only bonus that I¡¯d rather not get.¡± I replied as I took it. With some squirming, I inserted the armor plate back to my vest where it should belong, right there pressed into my body protecting my squishy bits. I could feel someone¡¯s deep gaze laid into me and I looked up to find Ron, hunched over with his elbows laid on his knees, looking at me with a deep expression. ¡°Something wrong?¡± I asked. He shrugged, ¡°Just got a sudden interest about how ugly you are, is all.¡± ¡°Well did you find something new to add?¡± ¡°You need some rest. How about you crash first and ill follow. Nick will take the first watch while I do the second, yours of course will be the last.¡± ¡°Alright¡± I said as I accepted, stifling a yawn I waved them goodbye and went inside the hut for much needed sleep. *CRACK* I woke up with a start, finding myself in an unfamiliar dark room and I immediately reached for my sidearm. It was under my pillow and I finally remembered that I¡¯m in Sydell¡¯s house. I sighed and laid back on my sleeping bag, from where I lay I could see Cyril sitting atop his bed and is looking at the small window by his bed. ¡°Shit¡± I muttered. Looking outside, I could see daylight seeping in from the gaps. I must¡¯ve slept in and missed my turn of the watch. I quickly got out the sleeping bag and tucked it rolled into an uncluttered corner of the hut. I then holstered back my pistol as I put on my vest and quickly came out of the hut holding my rifle. Outside, I could see the source of the commotion. It was Sydell holding one of our captured rifles, it was an old looking Mosin-Nagant, a tried and tested rifle that served in wars from the day it was first made up to the present, well, at least our present. It was kind of beat up and mistreated but still functioning all the same. He was holding it to his eye while kneeling, his eyes focused fiercely in the trunk of the tree hanging off a branch about fifty yards away. Ron was next to him, whispering his secrets into his ear with his hands all darting around and gesturing. Nodding, Sydell took a long slow breath and gave a steady trigger pull. *CRACK* The rifle went off followed by dull *thunk* of lead hitting the hanging piece of wood. ¡°Good job¡± I heard Ron mutter, patting Sydell in the shoulder. I went to their direction. ¡°How goes our Russian sniper?¡± I asked as I approached the two. ¡°He hasn¡¯t killed his Nazi officer so far, so I guess his day is a little slow.¡± Ron replied, sparing only a glance at my direction. Sydell then racked the bolt ejecting the spent cartridge and charging another one. He took another slow breath at the hanging target, it was now swaying back and forth like a pendulum. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°So why didn¡¯t you wake me up?¡± I asked, sleeping on someone¡¯s expense is extremely embarrassing for me. *CRACK* ¡°It¡¯s because you looked like need it more than me.¡± Ron replied. The target continued its swing and a puff of dirt rose up a hundred yards away. Missed. Shooting a moving target is never easy, either you have to chase the target down while having a steady trigger pull or time it so that the target goes to your crosshair. Both ways have their own advantaged and disadvantages, and it all just comes to personal preference as to which would one choose between the two. ¡°You know I could take care of myself.¡± I retorted. ¡°This isn¡¯t a time for bruised egos. We either cover each other¡¯s asses or get fucked.¡± he yawned, ¡°Now that you''re here, I¡¯m going to sleep. I might wake up tonight, or maybe tomorrow, now it¡¯s your turn to take care of Me.¡± he said as he got up and walked inside the hut. I watched him go and looked at Sydell just as he looked up at me. I raised an inquisitive brow and he shrugged, then aimed at his target, gave out a long slow breath to lower his heartrate. *CRACK* Another miss, another puff of dirt went up behind the target and Sydell racked the bolt for another time. I could see a spare stripper clip laid on the tree trunk he¡¯s using as a rest. Well, shit. He looks like he needs a lot more ammo than that. I watched and waited as Sydell went through the ammo in his magazines. He then pulled the bolt fully back and picked up the stripper clip, putting it in the slot and pushing the ammo in. the rounds went in with a ratcheting sound and Sydell sent the bolt forward while pushing the rounds down on the magazine. With this, he had the rifle¡¯s chamber empty making it safe to transport. Sydell stood up, giving me a smile and a nod as he went past me towards the small window his brother has peeking out off. He then unslung his rifle and presented it to his brother, both were smiling and looked very excited. At least this way they¡¯ll have a reliable way to get food as this forest is teeming with food. Where all it takes are the knowledge and the effort of getting them. He then waved a goodbye on his brother and went to me, ¡°Where to?¡± he said with a hard but still understandable accent. I pondered at the question for a bit but then caught the whiff of our camp¡¯s hunter¡¯s pot. The scent of the meat steadily boiling in the huge pot made my empty stomach grumble. I then patted it and looked at Sydell ¡°How about we have a meal first?¡± I asked and he nodded. We then went to the ever burning fire in our camp and sat around it. The pot itself was massive, able to take about twenty gallons of water and we filled it to the brim with meat, along with everything we could throw inside it. The bear really was a boon for every one of us. I was about to put a spoonfull of the rich meat in my mouth when a though flashed to my mind. I paused and Sydell looked at me with eyes asking what¡¯s wrong. ¡°Are you and your brother the only two around this area?¡± I asked. Sydell paused and looked away for a while, then looked at me and shook his head. ¡°There are others. But. Far away.¡± he said. Fuck this language barrier bullshit! I smiled ¡°Where are all the people? Is there any village, town, or city nearby?¡± I asked and had another mouthful of the stew. It tasted bland, but gamey, a little tangs of flavors were mixed in by the herbs, vegetables and rootcropts mixed in but all in all, it tasted pretty good in my hungered state. ¡°Other hunters. One- second day away. Farm. One-second day walk.¡± he held his hands up and made a motion of dividing it ¡°Old man. Speak words. Your words.¡± he said with a lot difficulty. But those last words took my full attention. It was already lucky that we have someone that could speak to us, even with difficulty, but having someone that could talk, even teach us the local language would be a godsend. Besides, that person may know about our situation and maybe even a way out. I grabbed his shoulder in excitement ¡°Sydell! Sydell, could you ask him to teach us your language?¡± I said, doing my best not to shake his lean frame. He tried to squirm away from my grip but couldn''t, my hands we wrapped around his shoulder and our disparity regarding our size and weight made all the difference. ¡°Yes. Yes, I pay him herbs. Every visit. For lesson.¡± ¡°How about we go to him after this?¡± I said with a smile, I sat back down on the log benches we put there to serve as stools and finished our meal. The stew actually tasted better after that. The radio hanging off my vest then squelched and I could hear Nick¡¯s voice, ¡°We got two people inside the perimeter. They are taking the main trail going towards the hut, armed with bows and daggers and I think they know the two.¡± he said. I raised my eyebrows at Sydell as I finished listening on the lengthy report. ¡°Hunters. Friends¡± he said, lifting his newly received old rifle ¡°They come visit. For bangs. I think.¡± I gripped my rifle and looked toward the trail they would be using. ¡°Can you trust them?¡± I asked. He nodded, ¡°Big trust. Good men.¡± he said. ¡°Then how about you welcome them in?¡± I said as I stood and went inside the hut. The inside was dark, its distinct smell wafted up my nose and the light snores coming from Ron dominated the place. Cyril was lying in his bed and is now sleeping. Stepping over the lying figure on the floor, I looked around the crate filled with clothes that we captured from the bandits and came up with a thick burlap cloak. Holding it up to the light, it is about my size but the smell coming out of it suggests that it hadn¡¯t been washed for a while. Still, I scrunched up my nose and laid it over my shoulder. The material covered most of my features, most importantly; it covered my vest and I could hide my rifle under the folds of the cloak, and its length allowed it to reach down to my knees. My boots screamed otherworldly and I hope those visitors wouldn''t have the mind to look at them. I heard Sydell yell out an excited and a very hospitable sounding welcome in their language as I got out of the hut. The two men facing Sydell then looked at me, they sported about the same shitty patched up attire and carried a longbow slung on their shoulder. A quiver hung by their waists containing about ten arrows each, and daggers hung on their belts on the other side of their waists. They looked rough, and tough. They had robust builds covered by their hunter¡¯s attire and they looked at me with eyes full of caution and suspicion that is only reserved for every group¡¯s outsider. Sydell then muttered at them and gestured at me, I even thought that I caught my name mention along with the others and the two nodded. Looking at me now with a different look in their eyes and both men gave a respectful bow, and I replied with my own in then introduced myself. The two introduced themselves in return by pointing at their chests and calling out their names. The taller, paler one¡¯s name was Notus, while the hairy one is Ilya. Notus looked to be just under seven feet, just a little bit taller than me but looked to be much heavier. Ilya was just above six and had a much more pronounced facial hair, give him a plaid shirt and he¡¯ll look like a stereotypical Canadian lumberjack. ¡°Sydell, how about you get them at least something to eat.¡± I said and he nodded then led them to our pot gave them each with a bowl filled with big chunks of bear meat. We all sat down around the fire with the two seated right in front of me with Sydell beside me. ¡°Graci¡± the two men said as they received their food and raised their bowls to me, then continued to empty their bowls at an impressive rate. Finishing it, they looked content but still flashed a look at the pot. Catching this, I waved for Sydell to give them a second serving and the two smiled as they took it graciously. I smiled, it was the job of the hosts to have the guests well taken care of. Sydell should be the one handling the position of the host but it seemed like the role fell to me. Sitting this close to the others, I could see cords of muscles that make up their forearms leading to a pair of arms that looked like tree trunks and suggesting their lean and muscular composition. They were also sneaking in some glances on my direction but the cloak did most of the hiding for me. All they could see are my pants and my boots and they were checking it out like it was the hottest girl they''ve ever seen. Compared to their leather moccasins, the difference is very much apparent. I could just guess the thoughts going on in their heads. Who is this man? What is he doing here? Why is he here? Why is he so fucking handsome? Of course they also saw the rifle hanging off Sydell¡¯s shoulder and judging be the looks they are sending, they knew of its capabilities and by the amount of flashes they are sending, they at least want one for themselves. Thinking as this a good time as any, I cleared my throat and took their attention. ¡°Sydell, ask them the reason why they are here.¡± I said. Sydell nodded and babbled to the other two, to which they replied to him. He then tried his best on his broken English to translate enough words to which I could discern that the two heard the gunshots yesterday and went to investigate this morning. They then found our camp and saw multiple tracks going to Sydell¡¯s hut. Worried, they went to follow them and found themselves here. They didn¡¯t mention anything about finding our trucks, which both relieved and worried meat the same time. I tried indirectly asking about it, but their body language and their answers says otherwise. Still, it worries me having to store our resources out in the open for anyone to only stumble upon and find. The two hunters finished their meals and gave thanks. They slowly stood up and I could see that they want to ask something of me. The one at the back then nudged the other and they confided for a little bit. Seeing that, I tensed my muscles and readied myself without giving it out. Finally, the one in front faced me and babbled on in their language. ¡°Brothers want one rifle. Want exchange.¡± Sydell translated. I knew this was coming and I just wanted to smack Ron in the head. He should be the one facing these two and negotiate. Of course, I could just refuse and say that we don¡¯t have any more but that could backfire and have it bite us in the ass. I¡¯m not informed in enough of the local culture that I could make a decisive decision on the spot. Who knows, a refusal might get them to have a long lasting grudge on me, which is not something that I¡¯d want to have. I gave them a pleasant smile, ¡°Tell them that we do have one, but it is very dear to us and is difficult to separate from them. Tell them that I need time to arrive at a decision.¡± I said. I could just see their faces light up as Sydell translated what I said. Damn, I might have arrived at the wrong conclusion. Seeing as their neighbors are fine and found the reason of the disturbance, the two left with good graces and a few pounds of slightly smoked bear meat. The two looked happy as they went out of our camp, and I hope that they are as trustworthy as Sydell promised them to be. I watched the trail long after the two took the bent and went out of sight. The radio then squelched and Nick¡¯s voice came reporting in, ¡°The two are gone.¡± he said. ¡°Good job. Keep post as they might come back for a while.¡± I said then called Sydell to make some preparations. We have an English talking farmer to visit.
Don''t forget to share your thoughts, insights, criticisms down on the comments below. Feedback are greatly appreciated and will do much in the improvement of the quality of the novel. Book 1: Ch 10 Extra long chapter for you guys, I might have missed some typos.
Book 1: Ch 10 We waited for an hour but our two guests didn¡¯t loop around and ambushed us. Man, this paranoia might be keeping us alive so far but it''s really costing us some effort. I briefed Nick as to where I¡¯m going to go and then made my preparations. I then shed my clothes and changed to the local equivalent, a knee length tunic, a pair of long trousers, and a crudely build pair shoes made of leather. The tunic didn¡¯t have pockets sewn in it, same with the trousers and this forced me to use pouches that hung on my leather belt. Wearing it is unfamiliar as hell and very awkward as it keeps flopping around every time I move. I tried moving some more and the pouch jingled. It was filled with United States junk silver coins along with ¡®repurposed¡¯ coins we just happened to pick up in a recently attacked bandit camp. Between the four of us, our junk coins collectively weigh around five pounds as it is a given between us to always carry hard currency as a backup. You know, just in case of emergencies, like this one in particular. I then gathered all my gear and laid them on an uncluttered corner of the house and reached for one of the rifles we captured and is ¡®repurposed¡¯ for the betterment of everybody. It was and old Mosin-Nagant, same model with Sydell and had the age-old two point sling still installed on it. The wood finish on it still looked pretty good and I could see some rust spots in places on the barrel along with the receiver. The barrel and the mechanisms inside are still good when we checked it which is the reason we took it with us. At least taking this instead of my usual rifle wouldn¡¯t attract too much attention to me. ¡°You look really good in that peasant garb.¡± Ron grumbled in a sleepy voice. ¡°You''re dreaming Ron, go back to sleep.¡± I said as I stepped over his lying figure and I could feel blood rushing to my ears as I got out. Stepping out, I spotted Nick sitting on a bench by the fire. He had a steaming bowl held up to his mouth and he looked to be enjoying it. ¡°Hey Nick!, Were setting out.¡± I yelled before turning down the trail leading away from the hut carrying a bag filled with provisions as we walked to our destination. Around four hours later, we came upon a fenced property resembling the features of a farm. It didn¡¯t look anything like the farms I¡¯m used to but that¡¯s just me. We then followed the fence until we got to a dirt road leading inside and went in. fields of vegetables and crops dominated the area with the farmhouse in the center of all of it. A barn was next to the house and inside, I could see some sheep, cows, along with some sturdy horses lazing around through the partially open barn door. A stout old man peeked out the farmhouse and looked at us with suspicion, he had the half of his body shown as he slowly got out. He then smiled and yelled some cheerful sounding words as he recognized Sydell. I¡¯m sure the guns hanging off our shoulders have contributed a lot on his suspicions but I guess the mere sight of someone he knew was enough to dispel all of it. He then cheerfully waved us in and we followed, stamping our mud covered boots outside and hanging our rifles by the door. The old man seemed to appreciate the gesture as he smiled and had us sat down by the central fire and called to someone on the other room, probably to get us some beer or at least the local equivalent. Sydell and the old man were talking in their language which left me with nothing to do but look around and admire the interior design of the house. A clean looking sword hung above the main door, a longbow and a quiver lay behind it, cloves of garlic hung on strings along with some vegetables and herbs and meat was hung to dry above the firepit and a pot is placed above the fire. Wooden mugs and pitchers were laid above the table on the other side of the room, along with wooden spoons and wooden plates. My gaze then wandered to the door to which the old man shouted to and then a person holding a tray filled with cups and a pitcher came in. I was startled and recoiled, my hand instinctively shot for my pistol in its holster, concealed under the tunic I wore. The person, if I even could call it that, had long pointed ears along with long pointed noses, tusk protruded from his lower jaw and shined under the firelight. It was fucking ugly and the last time I¡¯ve seen someone that could be comparable, I shot him. Three of them actually. Catching myself and my reaction to my host, I gave a guilty smile and bowed while saying ¡°Sorry¡±. ¡°What are you sorry for, son?¡± he asked in a weird British accent. I was surprised at first, then I remembered that meeting this person was the reason we were here in the first place. ¡°I am sorry about reacting to your assistant in a disgraceful manner.¡± I said, being polite. The old man sent a glance to the one in question and chuckled. ¡°Oh, don¡¯t worry. New guests usually react the same way you did. However, aren¡¯t you sorry that you are about to draw a weapon in my house?¡± he asked with squinted eyes. So he caught that. ¡°I¡¯m, sorry. I usually had it hidden so well that even I forget that it was there. Even though I always carry it with me.¡± I said, reaching back into my tunic and slowly drawing my pistol. This is his place and he at least deserves to know this much in his home. I then pulled it out of my tunic but it then snagged on the cloth itself and forcing me to use both hands just to take it out. That was bad. If I was in a real dangerous situation, I might have fucked the drawing part and died. Still, I guess this is another thing to be thankful for, having a chance to test out my set up and find the bugs. I then held it up for everyone to see and laid it on my lap. ¡°This weapon had already saved my life once, and I am very thankful I had it the moment I needed it.¡± the matte black color of the glock-17 seemed to absorb all the firelight coming at it. Even sitting at my lap, it looked deadly. The old man looked at the gun for a while and smiled, ¡°No worries, for I usually keep one for myself too.¡± he said. His right hand then reached inside his left sleeve and came out with a thin bladed knife. The blade glinted in the firelight in contrast to my own and he too, placed it on his lap. ¡°This one have saved my life three times back when I was still young and roaming the land. Now living as a farmer, I don¡¯t have a need for it anymore but I still always keep it there as a habit and as a reminder of how I¡¯ve lived my life.¡± the old man said as he leaned forward. ¡°Sydell, here says that you¡¯ve come from a land far away and wishes to learn our language for the three of you to live among the people. Is this correct?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± The old man grunted. ¡°I too came from a place far away from here, I¡¯ve traveled far distances and seen many lands. Having the ability to live on a land depends most in the ability to speak the local language. Having experienced it a lot, I understand your problems. So I accept in exchange of having to live in here as a farm hand. You see, I¡¯m not as strong as I used to anymore.¡± he said. I smiled and gave a mental fist-pump. Having to work in a farm wouldn¡¯t be bad, besides, having to be surrounded by people speaking the language by being taught would accelerate your learning as you would be using whatever you¡¯ve learned 24/7. ¡°However,¡± the old man continued I would like to know the place you¡¯ve came from, as this language we are talking in, are only spoken by the Goblin tribes in their homeland, far away.¡± he said as he leaned back, crossed his arms and looked at me like a predator. I gulped as I met his gaze, doing my best as to not flash a glance to my pistol. This old man is dangerous, and I could tell that just by his presence. He gives off a domineering aura and his eyes show a person who has live his life in violence. All that and the fact that I¡¯ve never expected to be asked a question like this forced me no other choice but to tell the truth. ¡°We came from a county called The United states, on a planet called Earth. We have no idea of how we got here, and we don¡¯t know of a way of coming back.¡± I answered. ¡°You''re from another world. That explains this.¡± he said pointing at my Glock. The old man then declared. ¡°Now that truth have all been laid bare, it is my turn to introduce myself. My name is Hues, and call me old man Hues. I used to be a thief, a bandit, and soldier. I¡¯ve gained and lost friends throughout my life and I am now a farmer living the rest of his life in peace as my spirit now tire of violence.¡± he then winked at me urging me to do the same. I scratched my cheek, thinking of what to say. Shit, when in Rome. ¡°My name is Adrian, I used to live back in Earth as an engineer¡± I paused thinking of the proper word, ¡°A craftsman, a tinker. I prepared myself to be very proficient at delivering violence but I hated it. I hated violence. Now in this new world I found myself in with no way of going back, and I am forced to do the thing I hate but also one of the things I am good at. I hate it, but I will not hesitate when the time comes that need it.¡± I said. Everyone in the room was silent, there was no sound heard save for the crackling of the fire and the breathing of everyone inside. Sydell had his head bowed, while the old man was nodding, and the ugly one in the corner stood still where he is. ¡°Well said.¡± old man hues grunted, ¡°Well said, know that this place is a safe one and you, along with your group, are welcome to stay. I agree with your sentiment, It is not wrong to hate violence, but it is a sin to deny it.¡± ¡°Thanks, old man.¡± I said. ¡°Enough of that!¡± the old man declared with a clap ¡°One of the ways I¡¯ve learned to cope up with the problems like yours is to drown them with a waves of strong drinks.¡± he said as his helpers put a table in front of us and placed cups and pitchers. ¡°Sorry old man, but I can¡¯t afford to get drunk today as I still have to get back and tell the others.¡± I said with an apologetic smile. The old man¡¯s cheerfulness swiftly deflated as i said that and he muttered, ¡°I see, shame.¡± then brightened up again. ¡°Well do tell your friends that I¡¯d like to meet them too. The words the more the merrier is especially true when drinking with friends.¡± he said. I smiled and took one of the filled cups and raised it. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to do that. Cheers.¡± ¡°Cheers¡± After that, we left the provisions we brought to the old man as a visiting gift as it is more of a true expression of gratitude than mere custom. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. We left the farm with a cheerful old man waving behind us. He looked to be really happy about our visit, and he reminded me of my own grandpa whenever I came to visit back when I was a kid. I smiled and waved back, then noticed his midget helper peeking beside the door. ¡°That small one, he¡¯s not a human isn¡¯t he?¡± I asked Sydell who is walking beside me. We have now left the farm and went off the dirt road leading in and back the way we came. ¡°No. Goblin.¡± he replied. ¡°They live place far away. I want like old man, travel far.¡± I nodded, ¡°Is that why you try to learn different languages?¡± ¡°Yes¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°I want see the world. Make name myself. Get known. Get rich. Get land. For me and brother.¡± he said, his eyes glinted as if looking at a place far away. ¡°I make me strong, be part of new village. Maybe lead it. Now, I follow you and Ron and Nick.¡± We were now travelling in one of the many thick parts of the forest, forcing us to bend over branches, step over fallen logs and travel through the thick vegetation. The last part of what Sydell said, still kept itself on the back of my mind and I keep flashing a glance towards him, along with the rifle hanging on his back. Follow us, huh. I guess that rifle explains itself well. In one of the documentaries I¡¯ve seen about the Middle East, the concept of a warlord flashed in my mind. A person giving another able bodied man a weapon would mean that the person given would serve as a fighter under the giver. The giver would handle the supply while the fighter does what his name states. It''s a part of their culture dating back from the middle ages. Europeans have their own form too, and it evolved through time to be called knighthood. Hell, I could be wrong, I am just a civilian after all. Looking at the rifle hanging off on his shoulder, I guess it resembles enough to be called it that. I''d have to ask Ron about what he was thinking when he gave it to him when we get back. The sun had already set but its rays from behind the horizon still gives enough diffusion to see the path home. The fire under the pot is still burning slowly and I could see Cyril walking around the camp with the aid of a pair of crutches. He shouted his greeting and waves as he saw us and Sydell ran up to him to assist him on getting inside. It had just been a day but Cyril is already on his feet. What a tough kid. Kids his age back at ours would be screaming for opioids to take away the pain. Just as the two went inside the hut, Ron came out of the corner and stopped on his tracks ¡°Holy shit! Look at you!¡± he called out then pulled out his phone to snap a picture. He was grinning as he looked at the screen and even after he put it away. ¡°Man, you look so weird wearing that. It¡¯s almost as ugly as you look.¡± he said. ¡°Haven¡¯t you been keeping up on the latest fashion? It¡¯s all the rage now.¡± I replied, holding up my hands and giving a twirl. ¡°You better get used to it fast because soon you will be trading your clothes for these duds.¡± ¡°I bet. And when that day comes, it will be the day I mourn the days of me dressing smart, it¡¯s not like you would.¡± Ron said. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s go take and early dinner so we could sleep early. Every hour we get makes us ever more beautiful, and you look like you need every minute you could get.¡± I rolled my eyes ¡°Whatever man, just lead the way.¡± I said and followed. We got to the fire and found Nick already seated there. He then looked up ¡°Sup.¡± he greeted and offered a fistbump. I returned it and sat with them by the fire. ¡°God, all this walking between two points just makes me miss driving. My feet hurts and I¡¯m all tired, doing all this just to come home to see you motherfuckers doesn¡¯t make it feel all worth it.¡± ¡°You''re lying bro. I bet you enjoyed every second of your walk with your boyfriend.¡± Nick retorted and the three of us chuckled. ¡°How¡¯s the trip, Nick said you went to visit some farmer, and I assume he did some plowing?¡± Ron grinning as he filled a bowl with stew from the pot and handed it to me. ¡°Yup, and he offered to teach us the local language in exchange with working on his farm. Before going, I might want to warn you that there¡¯s an ugly midget living with him called a Goblin. Looked a lot like the three who welcomed us here except smaller.¡± I answered as I took the bowl. ¡°How about you bro. I¡¯d want to ask about the rifle you happen to give to Sydell. He almost talks like we own him now.¡± Ron grinned at that. ¡°We do. We saved his life along with his brother, we also gave him months¡¯ worth of food and a powerful weapon for himself. Yes, we do own him, along with his brother.¡± he then held up his hand to stop me from talking, ¡°Our cultures are different bro, and we cannot use our own as a measuring stick against theirs. This might seem like an extremely evil thing to do in our society, but in theirs, owing your life to somebody is the greatest form of burden to have. They are very grateful to us and is very willing to serve under us as payment, seeing as we needed the added manpower so badly, it was an offer I couldn''t refuse.¡± ¡°Dude. You were here the same time as I am. Why the fuck should I believe you?¡± ¡°Adrian,¡± Ron said in a low voice, ¡°I could talk in five different languages, I own a fucking business involving with a lot of people. Talking in a language isn¡¯t the only form of communication, and I consider myself informed in reading along with projecting nonverbal comms. Of all the multitude of people I¡¯ve met, I could confirm that it¡¯s universal. You know, like this.¡± he said and raised me a finger while raising his eyebrows with a face full of contempt. He sighed, ¡°You¡¯ve confirmed it yourself. Sydell has already sworn his loyalty to me, and soon he¡¯ll do the same to both of you. I bet his brother will follow as soon as he gets well. I want you to look at it this way; if we refuse, they will have to find another way of repaying us. And looking at what they have, they¡¯ll have a lot of trouble paying us back. This way is a lot easier and beneficial for both parties; we get more manpower under us, while they get a reliable benefactor. We won¡¯t be treating them as slaves, more like our comrades. Think on that Adrian, please.¡± I kept my head down as I mulled over what Ron said. ¡°What about you Nick? You okay with all this?¡± I asked. ¡°Were the new kids in the block man, we can¡¯t do anything else but go with the flow, else well get swept away by the current and lose all control.¡± ¡°So you agree?¡± ¡°I understand our situation and I know that it¡¯s the step in the right direction. Yes, I do. I wouldn¡¯t want my sentiment to count if it would get us all fucking killed.¡± ¡°Shit¡± I muttered. It¡¯s one of those situations; damn if you do, damn if you don¡¯t. ¡°I know it¡¯s not going to count much but I just want to get it out; I don¡¯t like this one bit, if I wanted to have people¡¯s lives in my hands I would have gone to the military. These two trusted their lives into our hands so we better fucking take care of them.¡± ¡°Roger that.¡± ¡°No problem there.¡± ¡°Moving on.¡± I said, ¡°Two huge dudes happened to give us a visit, they saw me and they said they wanted to buy a rifle between the two of them. I couldn¡¯t make a decision then and there so I said that I¡¯ll be thinking about it.¡± ¡°Nick told me about them. I say we take them in too.¡± Ron replied. ¡°Make them swear allegiance to us. We have the guns and we need the hands to hold them.¡± ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°Why what?¡± Ron replied. ¡°Why are you doing this? What¡¯s your endgame here? We should be doing our best to avoid increasing the chances of us getting killed, but you seem to be doing just the opposite of that.¡± I looked at Nick, ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to say anything?¡± Nick kept his silence as he looked deep into the fire. He leaned his head on his clasped hands, his elbows planted on his knees as rocked back and forth on his seat. He then shook his head, refusing to answer. ¡°Nick, how¡¯s your shoulder? Good thing we had Adrian to patch that up huh? Good thing that bullet missed your head, or your neck, otherwise you¡¯d be dead.¡± Ron then looked at me. ¡°How about you? Good thing you wore that armor that night of the raid, right? Otherwise you¡¯d be dead too.¡± ¡°Where are you getting at?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯m saying¡­.¡± Ron grumbled, ¡°I¡¯m saying that if we just had more manpower at our disposal, Nick wouldn¡¯t have went down that road, you wouldn¡¯t have went down that camp. If we just had manpower to spare, we wouldn¡¯t have to risk our lives doing dangerous things.¡± ¡°So we risk other people¡¯s lives.¡± Ron looked at me and huffed, ¡°That¡¯s right. We risk another person¡¯s life, we put him in danger. Isn¡¯t that what soldiers do? Isn¡¯t that what bodyguards do? They know what they¡¯re getting into, they know what they will do when the cards are down. I would like you to know that it was Sydell that came up with the offer to me, and I would also offer the two. They could accept or refuse, it¡¯s their choice to make. Calling my intentions evil will not stop me from wanting to protect you.¡± He pointed at me. ¡°And you.¡± Then at Nick. I looked down, not wanting to meet his gaze. The silence after that was so thick you could feel it and no one dared to break it. My food was cold now, and it didn¡¯t look as appetizing as the minute before so I set it down. ¡°I understand, and I¡¯m sorry. You do what you have to do.¡± I said and left. I walked away from the fire, went behind the hut and into a path leading into the woods. My thoughts were a jumble as I recalled our arguments. I thought of the perfect counter arguments for every specific moment, I could¡¯ve won. But would that even matter? It won¡¯t get us back home, rather it would just make a rift between us right when we needed each other the most. I looked up, the night sky brought its multitude of stars. They were pretty, but they weren¡¯t something I recognized. We aren¡¯t in Earth, we aren¡¯t in our land protected by the might of Uncle Sam, we are now out here in god knows where with only ourselves to depend on. ¡°Fuck this place.¡±
AN: So that concludes the introductory arc, the MCs are settled in and their daddy issues solved. The plot will move on in the next arc. Don''t forget to share your thoughts, insights, criticisms and suggestions on the comments below. Any feedback is welcome and inspires me to write more. Book 1: Ch 11
ARC 2 Book 1: Ch 11 Being the grandson of a farmer, I had my own share of farm work. It¡¯s difficult but rewarding, after seeing all the plants sown in the ground and started to grow gives you a feeling of accomplishment. Now that I¡¯m doing the same work in a different place, I don¡¯t feel the same feeling of accomplishment. ¡°You look tired.¡± Ron noted as he walked beside me. He was carrying the same load as mine as we walked from the edge of the farm to the carts in the center. He was grinning as he said that and he looked to be able to handle more. ¡°What gave it away?¡± I asked, not even bothering to look at his direction. To do that would mean that I have to adjust the heavy laden basket on my shoulder and I¡¯d prefer not to do that. ¡°It¡¯s just the simple fact that you stopped cursing in every breath. You got pretty creative too on the last part¡± he said, laughing. He also said it in the local language of this place. Fucking Mr. Linguist here even had the accent down pat that he sounded almost like a local. That was both coming from me and the old man. The load started to dig into my shoulder, so I did a little toss and scooched in. much better. ¡°You know if I hadn¡¯t known any better, I¡¯d have thought that you''re cheating on the loads.¡± I replied. We needed time and a safe place to lay low after that time with the bandits but it had been about a month after that. That bear meat we got in the beginning had already been halved. Cyril had already started walking fine without a crutch, Sydell had developed to be deadly with a rifle, while Notus and Ilya are getting to be reliable shots given that they aren¡¯t rushed. Due to that, we have about half a can left of that unusual military surplus ammo. Most of it wasn¡¯t just target practicing, between Sydell, Ilya and Notus, they have bagged about twenty big sized game that was all sold in the town five miles away using the old man as a middleman. This also gave us the opportunity to visit the town itself and scout it out. Take a measure of the societal structure of this land and maybe get a piece of ass once in a while. We then reached the pair of carts parked in front of the old man¡¯s house, there we saw the old man seated atop the lead cart and Nick running around checking the wagons with the seriousness akin to a fighter jet ground crew. Getting to the back of the second cart, we laid our loads with a thud. ¡°Heey, looks like whatever you did worked. This cart doesn¡¯t creak like it was as old as the old man now.¡± Ron quipped. ¡°So, what did you do?¡± Nick grinned and gave a wink, he then straightened, ¡°You heard that old man? Looks like somebody owes me a piece of silver.¡± he yelled. ¡°What did you say? I didn¡¯t quite hear that.¡± the old man yelled back, as he tossed the dull gray coin towards Nick. Nick caught the coin deftly and bit it in front us with a smile full of satisfaction. ¡°Careful, he might¡¯ve stashed that up his ass.¡± I warned. ¡°Good thing I eat ass all the time then.¡± he replied confidently then paused. ¡°You know, that sounded a whole lot better inside my head.¡± he confessed and we all laughed. ¡°You three queers stop fooling around and get going, were burning daylight!¡± the old man yelled. And we complied, Nick went to the old man side, riding shotgun while me and Ron sat on the second wagon. ¡°My turn.¡± Ron declared as he grabbed the reigns and gave the horse a good whack. To which the wagon started to trundle on the dirt road leading towards the town of Lewe. ¡°...In the valley of the shadow of death¡­¡± The ride towards the town usually cost us about a couple of hours as even though the distance is a measly five miles, the carts were heavily laden and moves on just about the speed of a slow walk. So that gave us a lot of time of doing nothing but stare at the forest we are slowly passing by. So in order to fight boredom, I was rapping Gangster¡¯s paradise in the common tongue. It was hard, and this language didn¡¯t really seem to be great at raps but practice is practice. ¡°You know, I think it was a good thing you aren¡¯t black because you¡¯d be the shame of all blacks if you were. You suck.¡± Ron said. ¡°Like. Goddamn! I bet the west coast blacks and the east coast, the bloods and the Crips, would team up with the Hispanics just to hunt you down if they ever hear this song.¡± ¡°Yeah, I¡¯d bet you¡¯ll be right at home with the KKK too even if you''re not white.¡± I snapped back. Ron chuckled. ¡°Dude, even with the very minute chance that you¡¯ll ever get good. You won¡¯t get any chicks out of that.¡± ¡°Just like writing them a lame poem would? You can¡¯t even fucking write.¡± So the banter continued until a quarter of an hour later where we got within sight of the gate. The heavy oak doors studded with iron bands was wide open with a considerable line of carts waiting to get in. I looked up, by the angle of the sun I would guess the time would be about eight o¡¯clock in the morning. The town folks would be already wide awake and are making their way to the market district where wares coming from outside the town would be gathered. That is also the place where are intended to dispose of our goods. I then looked in front of me, the city guards patrolled along the line of carts, looking at everyone while giving a cursory glance at the contents. The guard then reached us and waved at the old man, ¡°Good to see you old man.¡± he greeted. ¡°Got any news for us Rollo?¡± old man hues asked. Rollo nodded, he was wearing chainmail over a thick padded shirt called gambeson while armed with a wicked sharp spear. It was well kept and oiled. ¡°The illustrious kingdom¡¯s knights have finally returned after subjugating the bandits blocking the road towards the frontier. Finally well have the chance of trading with the towns, there is also talk that someone is gathering people for a new expedition to reclaim another abandoned town.¡± ¡°How about you give me something I could have some use for?¡± ¡°I know your time is left in this life is limited but at least spare some time for some gossip.¡± Rollo grinned ¡°Those knights didn¡¯t seem to come out with a lot of loot and they looked a little irritated. For that their commanding officer had prepared a feast in celebration of the success of the mission causing the price of food to go up for a little bit. So I whenever someone asks for the usual rate, think of your good friend Rollo.¡± The old man grunted, ¡°Here¡¯s the toll.¡± he said as he fished around in his pouch and gave the guy an extra silver on top of the toll. Rollo then took the payment and grinned, ¡°Ot¡¯s always good to catch up with old friends one in a while.¡± he said. With the toll paid, we waited for our turn for the gate which gave me enough time to take another good look of the town¡¯s walls. It was made of stone, held together by mortar and looked to be pretty sturdy. Watchtowers were erected along the walls in intervals and I could see people peeking out inside. They had rifles sticking out their backs and they looked to be alert in their posts. I haven¡¯t seen them shoot yet but by judging by what I could currently see, I would expect them to at least hit their shots. Our turn then came and we trundled through the gate then made our way to the market district. The town of Lewe, from our previous visits looked to be designed like a roman camp with two main avenues running through the center, dividing it into four quadrants. Residential, where the common folk resides, Business where craftsmen and others do their transactions, Market where the people form outside would go to hawk their wares, and Government for where administration of the town is located. It is where the mayor of the town lives, along with where the church is located. We were traveling on the main avenue separating the Crafters and Market, stalls and wagons lined the street opposite the Crafters. ¡°Only the freshest fruits and vegetables sold here!¡± ¡°Fresh meat, fresh meat! Deer just killed and butchered this morning!¡± ¡°Live fish, caught two miles up the river Ars, nothing will be as delicious and juicy as these!¡± They were hawking their aggressively, standing on their wagons and out-yelling the one next to them with their produce laid in full view of everybody. Multitude of people passed by as we followed the old man driving deeper into the town. We then parked our carts in a clear spot and unloaded our goods; apples, cabbages, and turnips, there were some peaches too and some strawberries but that was in the old man¡¯s wagon and for him and Nick to sell. At first, no one came to buy but loyal customers started trickling in and bought our produce at an astonishing rate. One of the customer''s in particular was a pretty looking young woman, her blue eyes kept looking at my face and somehow I always catch her doing it, in which she would give a shy smile and coyly look away, blushing. This time she was buying a basket of everything we have, which she gave us a single gold coin. An apple usually costs between 2 to 3 coppers, depending in size, while a head of cabbage would fetch for 3 and a bundle of turnips would go for 5. But with the increase in demand the prices went up one copper each. We then counted the contents of each basket and did a mental arithmetic. A gold coin would be equal to 8 silver coin would be equal to 24 copper coins. Oh, did I mention that their numerical system is in base twelve? Fuck that. I smiled, ¡°Thank you for your patronage Lady Marshall. Here¡¯s your change.¡± I said as I handed her change, it was about 4 silvers and 2 copper. She took it and the men escorting her then moved to pick up the baskets, they usually bring the baskets back a little while later so no worries. The first time I saw her, I was so interested in her that I reached out and inquired every contact we had in the town and came back with the information that she is the daughter of the Town¡¯s head honcho. Which translates that she should be off limits. No one would dare mess with the daughter of the most powerful man, not even a person with a deathwish. With our goods all bought up, we took whatever was left and cleaned up, feeding the fruits and vegetables our horses parked nearby. We then had the carts hitched and got it outside the gates where there would be a better accommodation for both the horses and the carts. The old man then tossed us a bag of coins after the job was done. Ron caught it and gave a questioning look. ¡°How ¡®bout you boys get yourselves some women so my goats back home could get some break.¡± he said and walked away laughing. We watched the old man go, waiting for him to get out of earshot before talking, ¡°Ron, I think you''re rubbing off on the old man, and in a bad way.¡± I said. ¡°At least this is better than his dad jokes¡± Nick chimed. ¡°Let¡¯s go get some beer, I gotta¡¯ see my contacts.¡± he said and winked. There was no objections to that. We got in our usual watering hole and was met with the sounds of raucous laughter, which is unusual in this time of day. Looking around the dim interior of the tavern we saw a group of about ten men gathered around a table. They were wearing some polished armor that somehow emits its own dim glow, it could be my eyes but what the hell. We went to the bar to meet with the keep, ¡°You boys are early.¡± he said as he approached, reaching under the bar then laid three wooden mugs. He wore a stained white apron over his tunic that reached just shy of covering the entirety of his massive belly. This, of course didn''t fool us, under that fatty exterior is a muscular physique. ¡°Where¡¯s the old man?¡± he asked as he poured beer on our mugs. We shrugged, ¡°He just threw us a bag of money then walked away, probably went to get himself a woman, probably one as old as him.¡± Nick said, and the barkeep chuckled. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. ¡°So, what¡¯s the word?¡± Ron asked and I screened everyone present. The big group by the table seems to still at it, it seems as their loud laughter echoed inside the tavern once more. The barkeep, named Boothe, was one of the old man¡¯s old comrades that he recommended for us to meet and get to know. Booth, looked to the sides before lowering his head. ¡°Word says something took out half of the bandits forces and took their loot. That pissed those knights off, so don¡¯t be fooled by their jovial attitude.¡± ¡°How about the thing we wanted?¡± I asked, as I looked away from the group. Boothe shook his head, ¡°Someone is buying everything that turns up, the ones you wanted along with everything else, even the ones no one wanted is all gone. It¡¯s no surprise that something big is about to go down, the only question is what. I¡¯ll get you what I managed to get. Wait here.¡± He knocked on the bar ¡°If anyone comes tell them I went to take piss or something¡± he said then went to through the curtains blocking the back from prying eyes. ¡°I hope it¡¯s something good.¡± Ron said as he drank his beer. ¡°Anything is good, as long as we could get some.¡± Nick added and I nodded, looking back again at the group, they had their swords laying on their tables and bulging pouches hanging off their belts along with knives and other personal effects. They wore fine red cape that reached down to the floor that soaked itself with some of the spilled beer. ¡°Shame we couldn''t help those knights waste all their money faster with a game of cards right Nick? I¡¯m still having some problems thinking of the probabilities of card counting it would be nice going out on my own.¡± Ron said. ¡°All it takes is practice, bro. You''ll get good soon enough.¡± he replied. Boothe then came back holding a large sack on his back. ¡°I managed to snag a can with that money you won on your gambling sprees, it should buy about one big can and a small one but with the market nowadays, I was even lucky I managed to get one.¡± he said. ¡°If there was still something left, then it¡¯s yours.¡± I said, and he smiled, bowing his thanks. ¡°Got any rumors?¡± He shook his head. ¡°I got nothing worth noting.¡± he said. He then raised his head to look behind us and raised his chin, ¡°Maybe you could get some from him.¡± A man then pulled a stool and sat next to us, ¡°Give me a beer will you Boothe?¡± he said. I gave the man a side-glance and I could see him wearing a plain looking tunic and a plain looking trousers, his face is also plain looking with nothing noteworthy. He is a person that blends among a thousand faces. ¡°You got anything?¡± I asked. ¡°I got something worth a piece of gold.¡± he replied. I looked at the others and they seemed curious, they nodded and I fished a gold coin on my pouch, laid it in the counter and placed hand on top. ¡°You got it.¡± I said and Boothe took the coin. ¡°A messenger came to the gate of the Lord Marshall holding a letter sealed by the Lord of the Town of Turin. What was inside is a message asking the Town of Lewe to accept the refugees from Turin as the town is being besieged by a remnant of the destroyed demon army. The Lord, along with every fighting man in the town, stayed to defend as the town¡¯s provisions could last them as six months. The letter also states that the Lord will reward mercenaries coming to their aid accordingly and considering the urgency of their situation I would bet that he will be grateful to anyone that will come. The refugees will get here in about a week¡¯s time and with that, the news will then be widespread.¡± he said, and downed his mug of beer. He looked at Boothe and knocked the counter. Boothe smirked, ¡°here¡¯s your change.¡± he said sliding two silver coins and four copper coins in the counter. The man looked at it, ¡°I can¡¯t owe you that much, do I?¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t if you haven¡¯t had a mug of beer every time you come to visit.¡± ¡°Damn! We¡¯ll have the rest on my tab then. Thanks for the drink boys.¡± he said then walked away, his head bowed low and his face downcast. ¡°Here¡¯s for you.¡± I said, laying another gold coin on the counter. ¡°Thank you.¡± he said smiling as he palmed the coin then reached under the counter. ¡°Got anything else you want to ask?¡± ¡°Is your daughter here?¡± Ron asked, grinning. ¡°She¡¯s. Not. Here.¡± Boothe growled. Ron raised his hands in surrender, ¡°Just asking. Could you at least tell her that I¡¯d like to see her again?¡± and no came the answer, he grinned and the three of us left the bar with me carrying the sack he gave on my shoulder. We then met the old man coming up the steps as we went through the door, he then looked up with a serious face and said. ¡°Follow me, I got something that might interest you.¡± At that, we looked at each other and realized that this might have something to have with the info we just got. We followed. The old man then led us through side streets and alleys, only to come up on the back of a mansion. Its perimeter walls were about twenty feet high and was sturdily made with stone. I could see heads peeking between the crenellations, some of them had rifles hanging on their shoulder which suggests that whoever owns this place is rich, and powerful. While waiting on the back door of the place, I leaned over to the old man, ¡°Who owns this place?¡± I asked. ¡°The Lord Marshall.¡± he replied. ¡°You mean the father of that girl?¡± ¡°What girl?¡± ¡°No one, don¡¯t mind Nick.¡± I quickly answered, trying to deflect the question I asked, ¡°So, why are we here?¡± ¡°I think you already know.¡± he answered as the backdoor to the villa opened. A pair of knights welcomed us and ushered us in, they positioned themselves behind us as we walked to the mansion. We entered it and was welcomed by a serious looking old man standing in the middle of the mansion¡¯s atrium, behind him is grand staircase covered with velvet carpet that forked into two different directions, probably to each wing of the mansion. The girl back in the market was behind him and had a flash surprise in her face as she recognized all of us. The old man, which I would guess to be the Lord Marshall grunted. ¡°These men you brought doesn¡¯t look much Hues. I asked if you know any competent mercenaries, not farmhands.¡± he said. ¡°Don''t let your eyes fool you, these men are the best you could have considering the urgency of your situation.¡± He gave us another look but then sighed ¡°Fine.¡± he growled. ¡°Follow me.¡± he said as he ascended the staircase and we followed him with the lady trailing at the back. ¡°I¡¯d really appreciate the reason we are here.¡± Ron whispered as we walked up the stairs. ¡°You''re not in trouble for anything, anyone of you have done. You three are here for a job I applied you three for, it gives good pay and also gets you known to the people who matter, it may even earn you a favor or two.¡± he said and we entered a massive room. I guessed it to be the Lord Marshall¡¯s working room but anyone could compare it to a library. Shelves reached up to the ceiling that required ladders covered the whole length of the walls, an ornately decorated desk dominated the center of the room and behind him is an enormous window that afford a beautiful panorama of the town. We then went to a long table in front of the desk and on it laid a huge map of what I think is the territory and the ones around it. I then laid the burlap sack on the floor and studied the map. The center was the Town of Lewe with to which four winding roads intersected which connected it into two different townships. Two of the roads seemed to lead nowhere to which I would guess to be the badlands; the land abandoned during the great demon war and is now infested with man-eating monsters and remnants of the defeated army. The three of us studied the maps I gave a glance to Nick who was tasked to always carry his phone. He looked to be itching to take a photo as to which we could greatly use, since maps are considered a national resource and its circulation is strictly controlled. The Lord Marshall cleared his throat and took our attention, he then approached the map and pointed to the neighboring Town of Turin, about fifty miles south of the town of Lewe. ¡°Yesterday, a messenger came here with an almost dead horse and a very dirty messenger carrying a letter covered with the seal of the Town of Turin¡¯s Lord. Lord Lundur. Inside is a message calling for immediate aid, he needs it so much as to call for mercenaries as the town is besieged by a Demon army numbering an excess of five thousand commanded by a surviving captain. ¡°Of course, I wouldn¡¯t send a scraggly band of mercenaries to aid someone in need, but Hues seem to think very highly of you. You''re task is to escort a cargo of weapons that will be sent to reinforce the town, once there you will add to the already established command to defend the town since you along others will be the only ones I could send in the shortest amount of time. My daughter Hilna,¡± he gestured to his daughter standing behind her, ¡°will accompany you on your mission. She is there to oversee the operation and your group will answer to her. Payment will be issued on the on the return of my daughter unharmed, and untouched. Is this clear?¡± ¡°How much are we talking about?¡± Ron asked, ¡°Why are we taking a girl into a battlefield and why don¡¯t you just send the knights roaming around your town?¡± The Lord raised an eyebrow at the question, ¡°The reason of why you are taking her there is not of your concern, the only thing you need to know about her is that you keep her safe. As for the knights, the knights are here after a mission and I do not have the authority to order them around. I have sent a missive to their commanding officer to ask for the reinstatement of their orders to be placed under me for the duration of the crisis. That, of course takes a while so in turn I made steps to delay their departure in hopes that orders will come to aid the besieged towns in time or they will have no other choice as to help in the defense as they will be trapped in here along with us. Your payment will be issued on the conclusion of the job and will be a sum of five hundred crowns.¡± A crown costs is equal to ten gold coins which means that money won¡¯t be an issue for us by the time we complete it. Even with the cost of the bullets. The high compensation must¡¯ve included the bodyguard job which means that we have to protect the girl while we fight a war. And if we fail our mission and get the girl killed, I would bet that it would be better if we don¡¯t ever come back. ¡°How will be the cargo transported?¡± ¡°The cargo will be transported in carts of two pulled by a team of horses, the drivers, along with a score of fighting men will be provided by me and they will fight if the need arises. The road leading to the town will be dangerous so I suggest that you get to you destination as fast as you can.¡± ¡°Give us a hundred now and a can of ammunition, and we will be ready to depart on the day after tomorrow, we will be bringing four others.¡± Ron replied. ¡°Fair enough, the money will be ready when you leave the manor along with the can of ammunition of your choosing.¡± he said. I nodded. ¡°That¡¯s a deal.¡±
There is nothing more important for this author than to have a quality story for the readers to read, but in order to improve the quality of this story, feedback of very high importance. Don''t forget to share what you think, what you like, what you don''t like, cirticisms and suggestions on the comments below. Also, I''ve discovered that I prefer releasing long chapters so that will affect the frequency of the releases. Readers, tell me if you prefer the short chapters with faster frequency or the long ones with longer delays. Book 1: Ch 12 Book 1: Ch 12 Negotiations continued for a bit after that. Which we managed to get access to a couple of pack horses that we planned to transport our stuff. Of course, we would have to return it after we get back, but that alone saved us about two crowns. ¡°Nick, you stay here and guard the fort. Ron and I will be back tomorrow with the boys since we need every hands we could get.¡± I said to Nick, we were back at the farm as we made a beeline home after the meeting with the Lord. Old man Hues was given a portion of the payment to serve as the finder¡¯s fee as we wouldn¡¯t have gotten this chance without him. With that, Ron and I led the horses up the trail leading up deeper into the mountains. I noticed the trail is getting noticeable, and could lead anyone up to Sydell¡¯s hut. It was supposed to be our safe house in case we needed to lay low, we needed to change to another route. A few hours later, just as the sun dipped in the horizon we reached Sydell¡¯s hut after passing a pair of camouflaged hides with an occupant inside one. We waved at it and the person stuck a thumbs up. We then gave an exaggerated nod in response and continued on. The clearing to which Sydell had his hut was bigger now, with a couple more huts and other structures joining in along with an outhouse a little ways away. There, we found Cyril keeping the fire under the hunter¡¯s pot going. ¡°Ron and Adrian is here.¡± he yelled at the huts. Sydell and Notus came out of their huts and approached, each men taking over the reins of the horses and parking them next to Notus and Ilya¡¯s horse in the small barn. ¡°Good to be back.¡± I said, breathing in deep and I could smell the strong scent of smoke coming from the smokepit. ¡°Welcome, right on time for dinner.¡± Sydell said, his arms spread wide and we all shared manly hugs. ¡°Go get Ilya.¡± he then said to Cyril and he ran off. We then went to the fire and sat around it while exchanging greetings and small talk as we wait for the others. The two then came to the fire and we all shared a meal, with the biggest portion and the meatiest reserved for us, Nick would have the same share too but he isn¡¯t here. After the meal, silence descended upon everyone else as they waited for us, as we shouldn¡¯t be here for another two days. Our arrival must¡¯ve mean something. I cleared my throat. ¡°We got a job¡± I said in which everyone¡¯s ears perked up. Everyone leaned closer and I could see a deep interest in their eyes. Hell, maybe they¡¯ll hate it, maybe they¡¯ll love it. I told them the job and everyone seemed to be interested in it, especially when I mentioned the job of guarding the Lord¡¯s daughter but more importantly, no one seems to want to back out. They even looked to be eager on going out to test their guns out on live targets other than animals. I clapped, ¡°So, anyone of you boys want out? Don¡¯t worry, I won¡¯t hold it against you since we do need someone to hold the fort while we are gone.¡± everyone then looked at each other but no one raised their hands. With that I nodded. ¡°Okay, then prepare enough food to last us a month on the road, keep it dried. Sydell, bring as much medicine you have on wounds as you can. We¡¯re going to have to bring Maude with us on the trip to carry our supplies with us. And I assume the trucks are just as how we left it?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Good, do as much preparation you can do tonight as we will be leaving at first light.¡± I said and we dismissed. Everyone went on to their work thus leaving us two. Ron and I then stood up and went to the direction of the hidden cave we kept he trucks. We got there after about half an hour walking under the moonlight and opened the covered truckbeds as the beds were the most secure places we could still find to stash the guns. We could of course use wooden chest reinforced with iron bands but we were afraid that it wouldn¡¯t protect the guns from humidity and rust. We then popped the trunks and grabbed the bag containing our AK variants. Fortunately, the three of us had brought five AKs between us, ranging from the proper rifle version to the even the ¡®pistol¡¯ configuration. We also had a couple of SKSs with the old non-detachable magazines. Which made our guns chambered on the 7.62x39 number to seven, given the firepower the caliber delivers and the ranges we are probably engaging in, it would be the perfect weapon to bring. There¡¯s also the fact that it¡¯s one of the calibers we could find circulating in the black market. That¡¯s a very big plus. Ron also grabbed a dragbag containing his precision sniper rifle, in case we need to use it. As the presence of a sniper could decide the outcome of a pitched battle by taking out the enemy¡¯s head. I then took another inventory of what we would take, nodded and went back to our base after securing everything else in the trucks. We got to the huts and found everything then squared away. We then nodded in appreciation and we all turned in to sleep. The next day, we made sure to use another route to get to the farm to let the trails get overgrown and help continue the secrecy of our main home. We then got to the farm before noon and is met with Nick at the gate. He was still wearing the traditional garb; tunic and trousers secured by a leather belt or rope. He looked to be wearing it loose though which I would guess to help him draw his concealed weapon faster. We then got the horses on the barn and unloaded everything into the farmhouse. There we distributed the guns; the AK rifles went to the three of us while the last went to Sydell. The two SKSs went to the hands of the two while the Cyril lost his Mosin and was given the AK pistol to be kept hidden in the folds of his cloak. As he would do well to act as the horse tender and not raise suspicion and it would do best for him, along with us for the enemy to disregard him as harmless, especially when he is not. Everyone present already knew how to operate the weapons and we took turns cleaning the guns while the old man looked at us with eyes full of nostalgia. I guess he was remembering his younger year¡¯s way back when. Even with the change of time, I guess the old adage survived, take care of your weapon and it will take care of you. After that, we spent the rest of the day drilling fire and maneuver and patrol operations down to the point that we are sick of it. But at the end of the day, we could do a quite competent work of it. The next day, we got up early in the morning and we traveled to the outskirts of the town where the caravan was planned to depart. We used the old man¡¯s cart to transport our gear to the town as to not tire our horses too much and we arrived just in time. We could see men gathered around covered carts under the pale light of dawn. We then dismounted the old man¡¯s cart and approached. Half of everyone seemed to carry rifles on their shoulders while the others carried spears along with bows. Everyone looked at us, curious as to who the new arrivals and their weird outfits. We were wearing uniform looking olive drab cloaks that covered most of our bodies, reaching all the way to our knees. Under it, the four wore magazine carriers made of leather and burlap while we wore our plate carriers along with the armor inserts, it saved my life once and it may do it again. Our rifles hung on our shoulders covered with a sheet of cloth to protect them from prying eyes. All in all, we looked like a weird bunch, which explains the reason everyone was checking us out. I then singled out the Lady Marshall and approached her while the others sorted our gear, ¡°Reporting for duty, Lady Marshall.¡± I said. ¡°Oh, please don¡¯t bother with the formalities, call me Hilna.¡± she replied as the faced me. Her conservative dress was replaced with a form fitting trousers revealing her long slim legs, it somehow reminded me the pants jockeys wore. She also wore a tunic under a vest that also covered everything but was tight enough to suggest her figure to anyone looking. ¡°I hope were not the last ones in, where do you want us?¡± She pointed at the front, ¡°I hear you and your men are proficient scouts so your role would be to scout ahead for any dangers that may come to the caravan. I hope your men are up to the task with your advertised skills.¡± I smiled, ¡°No problem. My men grew up around the woods, hunting and tracking. They¡¯ll find enemy for you.¡± I then pointed to her. ¡°Your father also stated that our success also depend on your survival so I guess you wouldn¡¯t mind me posting a guard for to you?¡± She squinted her eyes as she looked at me. ¡°I can take care of myself well enough, thank you. Besides, I already have a bodyguard.¡± she said gesturing at the other cloaked person wearing his hood up next to her. At the mention of her bodyguard, the person took off his hood revealing a beautiful woman. Her cloak showed enough for me to see that she was wearing the same form fitting trousers and tunic with bits of leather sewn in. she then looked me over and scoffed as she turned away. I smiled ¡°I¡¯m sure she would be enough. But posting a guard for you would give us a lot of peace of mind and will help my men tremendously, allowing them to focus on their job knowing that we have someone guarding the most important person in the caravan.¡± of whose survival depends whether or not we get paid. I said while leaving the other unspoken. She huffed, ¡°Do as you will.¡± she said as she turned away and I followed a few steps behind. Noticing this, she then spun at my direction, and asked with some irritation ¡°I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve already accepted to your suggestion so I ask to why you are still following me?¡± Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. I grinned. ¡°It¡¯s because you agreed to my suggestion.¡± I said spreading my arms ¡°I¡¯ll be your personal body guard for today.¡± She rolled her eyes ¡°Fine.¡± she said as she walked away. Weird though, as I noticed a spring in her step as she approached everyone in the caravan and struck up conversations, making sure everyone is doing fine. ¡°Mount up!¡± she then yelled as she finished her rounds and the caravan set off. The neighboring town of Turin was about fifty miles away by road and by my estimation, the caravan was slogging through this dirt road at about two miles per hour, slower that a man walking on an easy pace. Add the fact that horses need feeding and rest, our daily mileage should be about twenty miles on a good day, depending mostly on the condition of the road. I was sitting atop the covered cart beside the Lady as she sat reclined and was presently reading a book. ¡°What are your reading?¡± I asked, trying to pass the time. ¡°It¡¯s about the history of this continent. About the Great Demon War to be exact.¡± she answered, keeping her eyes fixed on the book. ¡°Care to tell me about it?¡± I prodded, if there would be a good time to get close to the boss, today would be a good time. ¡°It¡¯s a long story.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a long trip.¡± ¡°Alright, but only if you show Malon your weapon as she is very interested in it.¡± Hilna said and the other person riding in the cart looked over, her cloak was at their side revealing her very suggestive garb for everyone to see. And from what I could see, she had a Springfield m1903 hanging off a leather belt on her shoulder. I grinned, ¡°You know, women don¡¯t usually ask other men to show their weapons to other women¡± I said and the other bodyguard scoffed once more. Chuckling, ¡°Alright I¡¯ll do it if she lets me see hers and we¡¯ll add the story on the deal yeah?¡± ¡°Fine. We¡¯ll do it your way.¡± Hilna conceded. I smiled, ¡°Thank you Lady Marshall.¡± I said as I took the rifle off my shoulder and unwrapped the cloth covering the weapon. I could see, Malon¡¯s eyes lit up at the naked beauty of my AK. It had an AR style stock and an ergonomic pistol grip, a polymer handguard with a vertical grip installed, and a red dot scope mounted on a siderail. It also had a forest green paint scheme and the classic iron sights installed in the case of the optics failing. All in all, it is a tactically squared away rifle. I held the rifle in my hands for a while, enjoying the hungry gaze of Malon. She looked to be ready to pounce on it but unfortunately caught herself. Clearing her throat, she also unslung the rifle on her shoulder and we exchanged rifles. ¡°Can I trust you not to pull the trigger, ammo is expensive and hard to come by.¡± I said and she nodded, stupefied. The lady is also looking at it with eyes filled with curiosity. I looked around the caravan and caught others trying to catch a glimpse of the rifle, I also caught the glance coming from Ron, who is walking beside one of the covered carts and I gave an imperceptible nod and he returned it, he then looked at Nick who was also walking and was having a conversation with one of the outriders, he nodded. They then unslung their rifles and took off their covers and making a show for it. This would in turn serve as proof of our proficiency and should deflect the pointed glares we were receiving ever since we joined the caravan. We, of course kept our cloaks covering our vests as these people don¡¯t need to see it, not yet. Seeing as the show of force was done, I then studied the rifle in my hands. It was a genuine M1903 shooting 30-06, the walnut stock was kept in immaculate condition and the barrel was spotless, well oiled. I pulled the bolt and it slid in and out smoothly. I then emptied the magazine and field stripped it. I took the bolt off the rifle and checked the inside of the barrel, it too was well kept giving me an overall good impression on the weapon and on the user. I then put the rifle back together and looked at Malon, who had the rifle raised up in her shoulder and is peeking through the red dot scope. It wasn¡¯t turned on so all she would see is a transparent piece of glass. She had her left hand holding the vertical grip and is sweeping the barrel side to side, I would have scolded her for it but she was keeping it away from other people and her finger was a long ways away from the trigger so I guess it should be fine. ¡°Good rifle.¡± Malon said as we exchanged our rifles back. ¡°Yours too, it¡¯s well kept.¡± I replied, and she nodded. I then glanced at Hilna, ¡°Someone owes me a long story.¡± I said and she acknowledged. About a hundred years ago, fleets of black ships arrived on the beaches near coastal cities and unloaded armies that sacked everything in their path. The army employed terror tactics; they would massacre towns and villages. Impaling the severed heads of men, women, and children alike atop spears and would display them in full view of the cities they are besieging. Survivors of these massacres claim that the soldiers of the army would rape, torture and brutalize people for fun thus earning them the name of demons in the eyes of everyone. Cities raised their own armies, militias grown from their own populace and did their best to meet with the threat but all were ground under the boot of the of the great demon army. They were fast, as when the news of their approach would arrive, the army would soon follow on the next day. Years passed and kingdoms tried their best to defend themselves from this hated enemy; they fortified towns, blocked passages, burned crops for the sole reason to slow their advance, and while all these happened, alliances formed and old grudges were forgotten. Thus a new empire was born, The Baimux Empire. The empire managed to raise an army to combat the oncoming army and great battles ensued. Unfortunately, the army was defeated on a wide plain whose name is long forgotten. And the empire continued to be carved out and collapsed, massacre after massacre, town, cities, villages continued to be burned down into the ground. Until one day, a town far removed from everything managed to defeat the demon army that swarmed their gates and managed to outlast and kill everyone. In their victory, they rejoiced. They sent messages to other towns declaring of how they¡¯ve won the battle, and the same messages came back; telling everyone of how cities, towns, and even villages managed of how they managed to defeat them. Decades after the start of the war, the great demon army was finally defeated. Hilna was smiling as she concluded the history of the war, as if it was a tale of heroism done by those who ¡®won¡¯ the war. As for me, I thought otherwise, the survivors only managed to survive what happened and we are going to a place to fight the remnants of an army that managed to crush the powers of a whole continent under their feet and left half of it uninhabited. I would bet that the reason the demon army doesn¡¯t reach this far would be of a logistical one, as supplying an army so far away would be very hard. ¡°It¡¯s a good story, thanks for letting me know. If you excuse me, I¡¯d like to stretch my legs for a while¡± I said to the two and dismounted the slow moving cart. Hell, it would be faster walking on your own. I then walked on the head of the column to where I found Ron, holding his AK in a one point sling while scanning the road ahead for any threats that might have slipped past our lead scouts. ¡°Got anything new?¡± I asked as I walked beside him, holding my AK at the low ready and scanned the forest dirt road ahead. ¡°Yep. That except for that girl¡¯s female bodyguard, we are the only mercs hired on this job. Everyone else worked for the Lord Marshall.¡± Ron said. ¡°Also, the cargo in the wagons are guns and ammunition, all bought up to aid the Town of Lewe. I got that from Nick, he got it back when he was doing maintenance on the carts and got on the good side of the driver.¡± he looked at me. ¡°What about you?¡± ¡°The lady is silent, I have no idea what she is here for. Her bodyguard¡¯s name is Malon, and is somehow close to the Lord, like trusted close. I bet she¡¯s also here to keep an eye on us, her rifle is well-kept and I think she knows how to use it. What about the front?¡± ¡°Word on the font says it¡¯s as peaceful as it could be. There are bands of refugees camped on a little ways away from the road. They looked to have food on them so that¡¯s good. The villages that they scouted seems to be hunkering down and would probably leave when there is no other choice. They also had a good clearing chosen to be our camp for the night about five more mile up ahead. It should be good.¡± ¡°Great, give the guys a good job for me. Ill report this to the boss.¡± I said then gave him a good slap on the shoulder. ¡°Not a bad day¡¯s work for someone just starting out huh?¡± He smiled, ¡°Yeah, I guess so. At least after this, we¡¯ll have enough money to start a business or something. That way, we won¡¯t have do this mercenary shit anymore.¡± ¡°Before that, we¡¯ll have to finish this first.¡±
Feedback goes a long way to improving the story so keep them coming. So don''t forget to share what you like, what you don''t like, suggestions, thoughts on the comments below. Book 1: Ch 13 Book 1: Ch 13 We arrived at the designated camp which was a recently harvested farmland that looked to be planting wheat and barley. The three somehow managed to ask the owners a permission to use their farmland for a night. He was middle aged man living with his wife and kid and they offered their barn for the horses to sleep in, for a price of course. Hearing this, I took it up to the boss and she agreed, coughing up about four silver coins for the rent. The wagons were arranged in a circle to serve as a makeshift wall for the tents that was also set up in a circle, thus making the camp look like two concentric circles with the main fire in the center. The three of us, along with the help of Cyril, was setting up our canvass tents when our three scouts arrived from their duty. Seeing us working, they tried to help in the setting up but we firmly declined, telling them that they should tell us about what happened on their end instead. With that, the three sat down and recounted what happened on their day which mostly consisted only with walking slowly in the forest around the road and looking for any tracks suggesting anyone hiding on the roadside. They didn''t have much else to do so Sydell thought that they should practice the maneuvers we taught them. We then finished and sat on a circle outside our tents as we waited for the dinner to cook. We told them what happened on our end which I consider to be just as uneventful as theirs and much more boring as trees went by slower than walking speed and one person would run out of anything to talk about after a few hours. ¡°What about you Cyril? Did you find out anything new?¡± Ron asked as our dinner was brought to us. The food given was a pot of stew and I noticed that it was a tad smaller than what was given on the other groups. It is human nature to group together based on similarities or roles, and like in this caravan, there are two main groups; the drivers and the guards. We weren¡¯t part of any since we are outsiders, thus we get treated less. It didn¡¯t bother us much as long as they will keep to themselves and us to ours. Of course, we couldn¡¯t count on that so, we have already set up a nightly watch to deter anyone trying to get smart and try to steal some of our stuff. If they do, that would earn them a buttplate to the side of the head and maybe even a dose of high-speed lead poisoning. ¡°The others didn¡¯t talk to me much but they did talk to each other in my presence. They think of me as insignificant, which is exactly how you thought would happen.¡± Cyril said nodding at us in respect, ¡°From what I heard; the reason The Lady Marshall came along is a proof of the Lord Marshall¡¯s commitment to Turin¡¯s defense, this leads us to her bodyguard, Lady Malon. They say that there is no one else the Lord Marshall trusts in protecting her daughter more than her and that she is very capable.¡± he said. ¡°More capable than your brother?¡± I asked playfully. ¡°No, of course not. I bet he¡¯d be able to take on both Ilya and Notus while he¡¯s at it.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Ilya yelled in mock outrage, we all chuckled. ¡°Good job, Cyril. I might be wrong, but I think we just found your knack. Keep doing what you''re doing since we don''t know what else might turn up.¡± I said and patted his shoulder. Cyril gave thanks with big smile and nodded. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s all go to sleep. We got a big day tomorrow.¡± I declared as I went to my tent and crashed in my sleeping bag, with the comfort of sleep falling over me just as I closed my eyes. The next morning, I was woken up by the camp¡¯s morning ritual of preparing for the road. Horses whined and people walked to and fro as they went about their preparations. The food served was thin soup and a pretty stale bread and we set out just as we could barely see the road. The plan was to take the rest of the twenty-five mile journey in a single day since spending another day outside the wall of Turin might would risk the capture of our cargo. On the other side of that coin, we could get ourselves caught out in the open with teams of tired horses with an army in pursuit. We¡¯ll hope it doesn¡¯t come to that. The caravan trundled on, and with it rose a mixture of emotions. Somehow, deep down inside my being, all buried under that fear and apprehension, I found myself looking forward for what is to come. I look forward to stand beside my friends and face our enemies, stop them, kill them. It¡¯s weird. Now I could see why veterans find it hard to share the horrors of the wars they¡¯ve fought to someone who didn¡¯t share the same experience. Because, deep down, even with the horrors and devastation brought by war, there are some things people get to like about it, and most people just don''t understand. Now, I think I kind of understand what my old sawdog uncle who served in the army for twenty years babbled on while we sat back at our grandfather¡¯s porch. Funny how it took a few years and a trip to another world just to understand an inkling of what he said. I head the dry snap of a twig in the distance and I immediately took a knee while I thrust a balled fist up in the air. I was the lead scout for today since there is a bigger chance of us encountering the enemy. And if we do, we would have to act as the main force to try to breach through any blockade between us and the town. In the corner of my eye, I could see Ron slowly creep up behind a tree and look through the scope. He scanned the surrounding for a while and came up with ¡®all clear¡¯ signal. We then crept on ever slower forward. The caravan is about a mile behind us, traveling at a measly pace of man¡¯s stroll. We left Nick there as The Lady¡¯s personal bodyguard along with Cyril whose orders are to keep close with their wagon while trying his best to gather intelligence, eavesdropping on casual conversations and gossip. We now have about five miles left to travel to get to Turin, which means that we now reached closer and closer to the place of battle. Half a mile later, we came upon a figure mounted atop something resembling a horse. His head was swiveling from side to side, as if looking for something. He was a hundred fifty yards away when we spotted him, and both me and Ron crept closer to see what was up. ¡°This guy don¡¯t look like a knight.¡± Ron sent through the radio. He about fifty yards to the left of me and is currently looking through his rifle¡¯s scope. His camo pattern made him blend in his surroundings well and I would expect myself of doing the same. ¡°Just one guy.¡± ¡°Can you take it?¡± I asked. The guy was in the middle of the road and it would be very easy for him to detect the incoming caravan. ¡°I¡¯m going to take the horse first, then the guy.¡± Ron said. I could take the shot myself but rifle unfortunately didn¡¯t have a barrel threading installed on it which would allow the weapon to have a suppressor installed. Ron had it in his own though, which is good. About a couple of seconds later, the horse fell without a sound as if its string have just been cut, its legs folding under it and the rider yelled in surprise as his horse fell under him which was then cut by another distant snapping sound. The sound came from Ron¡¯s rifle as the suppressor could only muffle the rifle¡¯s report, but not the bullet''s snap as it traveled at speeds faster than sound. ¡°All clear.¡± he said and I waived for Notus to follow me and we crept in a forward position in case someone else had heard the shot and come to investigate. No one did and we continued on our job of screening the forest for any hostiles. Later, I estimated that we only had a little bit over an hour of daylight left just as we are about a mile away from Turin and by that time, we managed to take out about three more horsemen posted along the road we were traveling. From the dip we hid the carts, the caravan must travel about half a mile winding forest road while the other half would be an open ground. Partially grown with weeds, what used to be a lush farmland planted with acres of grain is now a burnt black field to deny the besiegers of the food supply. We were letting the horses rest for a bit as we planned our approach. ¡°We should drive the caravan to its best speed, it is only a mile anyway. The faster we could cross that deathland, the better.¡± The head of the guards suggested, he was a grizzled old man, probably a veteran of his work, he wore a chainmail shirt that reach far down to his knees, under it is what looked to be a thick padded tunic designed to fit under the chainmail to provide the needed padding. On his shoulder hung a Mosin and I could see in his belt hung a bayonet for the rifle. ¡°NO!¡± The head of the drivers hissed, ¡°What happens if we happen to lame one of the horses carrying the cargo? Will you carry it? We¡¯ve already pushed the horses hard all day, doing it at this critical moment could spell disaster.¡± he looked to be a man half the guard¡¯s age, he was wearing the typical tunic and trousers but in his belt hung a bunch of tools that looked to be designed for the care of the horses. The two continued to bicker against each other and as I gave a glance to Boss. We were standing in a circle with the five of us while Nick was about twenty paces away, scanning the surrounding. She looked to be in deep thought only to come out of it as the female bodyguard whispered on her ears. ¡°I¡¯ve decided,¡± The Lady Marshall declared, her voice low. It carried the distinct authority only reserved for the ones accustomed to it. At the mention of this, the two men bickering immediately shut up and listened. ¡°A mile of road lies between us and the safety of the town. We will only take the essentials with us and use the cover of the forest to use the best safe speed the horses would allow. But when we do reach the clearing around the town, we would have to push the horses to their limits forget the threat to their lives or the carts. If one dies of exhaustion or a cart breaks an axle, the caravan will move on, we will not stop.¡± she then looked at me. ¡°Mr. Adrian, I trust your men that they would be able to screen our path clean of enemies? If they do manage to do it well resulting to all of our cargo reaching the town, I will make sure that my father will know every detail of it and that he would look at you and your men very favorably.¡± she said. I smiled, ¡°you got it. But we would have to borrow the riding horses you have. We have about two people able to ride horseback and being on a horse would quicken their response times, more importantly, not tire them out unnecessarily.¡± I said. She nodded, ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll let you borrow two of our outrider¡¯s horses. Make sure to bring them back.¡± ¡°Of course.¡± Setting out, I knew this would be the longest mile long trek I¡¯ll ever experience. Mounted atop one of the caravan¡¯s horses, Ron and I kept a two hundred yard distance from the caravan and about a hundred from the front. I could barely see the figures of Sydell, Notus and Ilya as they moved around in the forest floor, scanning, covering and moving. The looked to have taken our lessons at heart and I could feel my heart warming up to that. I would feel happy if it wouldn¡¯t for the fact that some of them, or even all of them may not be able to see the next day. I could see it now, the reason why Ron did all of this. He knew I was one of the people who couldn''t just stand there and do nothing when I had the ability to do something. And in this world, he knew it could get me killed. He was always beside me whenever I would rush towards disaster ridden areas, with my truck full of food, he would follow with his own. He would comfort sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, as I do my best to patch up their loved ones behind curtains and tents. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! I looked to my right and saw the same person who was always by my side. He was also mounted on our borrowed horse and was holding his rifle with the barrel pointed up the sky, on one hand and the horse¡¯s reigns on the other. ¡°Hey Ron.¡± I called. ¡°What? Trouble?¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± I said. ¡°For what?¡± ¡°For everything.¡± That took him away from scanning the horizon and looked at me, ¡°You¡¯re not planning to fucking die are you?¡± ¡°No, of course not.¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°Good. Now get your head off your ass and keep it on a swivel. What you''re fucking doing could people killed.¡± he said and went back to scanning the forest. Yeah, I guess I should. I thought to myself as I went back to doing the same. The height advantage being on horseback gave a bit of advantage and we could see a little further than the people on the ground, and I could only see forest greens among a background of forest greens. A shot then rang out in front, then another, and another. It then rose to a staccato of shots as the three would time their reloads right to have at least one rifle online while the other two are out reloading. ¡°Sydell. Report!¡± I yelled through the radio just as the firing had subsided. ¡°Mounted scouts, I think they saw the column and came closer to see it. They didn¡¯t see us and we shot when they tried turning back. One escaped, wounded. I¡¯m sorry.¡± he said. ¡°Shit¡± I muttered, that would complicate things. As we still have about a two thirds of a mile left. ¡°Fall back and rejoin the column. Make sure to reload you magazines and clips.¡± I sighed. I wish we had more men, one of the things I¡¯ve come to realize. We need more men under us sharing the same ideals and morals if we would ever come close to making a difference. And judging by the looks of everything, we could make a whole lot of difference, ones that matter, ones that count. ¡°Roger.¡± Sydell replied through the radio. ¡°We will stay in position and will rejoin the caravan when they reach us.¡± ¡°Roger that.¡± I replied, nodding. It¡¯s good to have someone loyal for you, better if they take initiatives themselves. ¡°Let¡¯s go past them then.¡± Ron said, laying his rifle on his lap. ¡°We have the horses and maybe we could even serve as a distraction for them. We also have the firepower so I think we can take care of some.¡± I looked at his rifle and to mine, Ron had already unscrewed the suppressor on his rifle and replaced with muzzle break it almost looked identical to mine. What was different this time though, is that it had a 75 round drum magazine on it instead of the usual of thirty. He had two of them and the other went to me. That means we have more than double the firepower from the standard assault rifle and if that would buy us more time, the better. I nodded and we trotted on. We were about two hundred yards ahead of the column and we reached the end of the clearing. All what left is the half mile of open area that we have to cross in order to reach to the town of Turin. From where we are I could see mounted black figures trotting towards our direction about three hundred yards away and would reach us in about a minute. The caravan would take about two minutes for them to reach us. They numbered about a hundred, and there is just the two of us to stop them in time. Shit. We then quickly dismounted and tied the horses on a low branch so they won¡¯t run away. I then laid stomach and raised my rifle to my shoulder to have the most accurate position to fire. We were lucky we caught the cavalry in the open, else we would have been cut down. My heart was beating fast as I aimed at the first in the mass of mounted horsemen coming towards us, my target looked to be the biggest in the group and I fired. I saw my target flinch and a puff of dust appeared on his chest only to be blown away as he slowly fell off his horse. Luckily, the mass stopped. Probably confused of why one of them fell, they looked around for a bit only to have another fall down, then another, and another. The mass of horsemen stopping was the best thing that could have happened to us, with a stable position, a good sight picture, a stable heartbeat, and an enemy stopped in the middle of a field, we went ham. *POP* *POP* *POP* *POP* I was pulling the trigger as fast as I could, trying to shoot at the motionless targets before they realize what was happening and try to haul ass. One of them then looked over our direction and yelled as he pointed at us and turned his horse towards our direction in a gallop, he probably saw the dust puff that rose caused by our shots. Everyone then followed and I could feel my heart race at the sight of about seventy men barreling towards us with about ten more following on foot. The two hundred yards between us shrunk as seconds pass by, as the horses increased their momentum making it harder and harder for any line of men to stop the charge. But for us, this came to us both as a blessing and a curse. Every stride the horses took, it would make them two yards ever closer to us but the speed at which they were travelling made it very easy to just shoot the horse and have it fall over then the one behind it wouldn¡¯t have the chance to avoid it causing a pileup of screaming beasts and men alike. The closer they are, the easier it also is to hit them and I was having a field day with my AK. I then pulled the trigger and what only came was the crisp click of an empty chamber, it was the loudest quiet sound I¡¯ve ever heard. Shit. I immediately reached into my vest and fished out an AK banana magazine, pressed the magazine catch with the magazine itself, slotted the magazine in and reached over the top of the rifle to charge the bolt, and fired again. Sending another batch of painpills to the ones who need it. They were about a few seconds away from us now and I could see their number have dwindled to about ten. I then singled out the closest horseman to me and shot his horse straight in the chest but this time instead of the horse collapsing and go to a tumble, I saw sparks fly off its chest. I then fired another and another, only to have the desired effect when it was just right in front of me, its front hooves then collapsed and slid. Its forwards momentum made it tumble ass over head and the rider was thrown off the back and landed far behind me. I rolled on my back and dodged the thousand pound beast as it slid past. I followed by immediately getting up and saw the rider slowly trying to get on its feet. Closer, I could see the individual plates of his armor shine in a nonmetallic glow and it bled orange blood between the gaps of its armor as it struggled to stand. His legs then buckled under it and no more attempts of getting up followed. Shots then rang behind me followed by Ron yelling, ¡°ADRIAN!! Shoot those fuckers!!¡± I then turned around and saw the survivors of the horse and human pile-up were trying their best effort of running towards us in a limp and were about a hundred yards away from us and closing. Ron was frantically shooting at them and every shot he took, one figure would then fall down and drop out of the race towards us. Each banana bag would have about thirty rounds fully loaded and there sure more than a thirty of them. I then raised my rifle and pulled the trigger only for it to sound with another click. Motherfucker. I then took off the magazine and put in the dump pouch hanging on my left hip and fished for another, slapped it home and charged it. We then continued to clean up the rest of the enemies as they charged at us on foot. That done, I picked up the drum mag that I dropped in my rush to reload and examined the horse of how it managed to deflect my shots. I looked at its chest and I could see the small hole of which the round entered but I could not find any material in the horse¡¯s chest that could theoretically deflect a bullet. What¡¯s weird though is that its not a horse, and the best way I could explain it is that it looked to be an insect doing a very bad imitation of a horse. Pincers replaced hooves and a set of mandibles is where the mouth would be. Goosebumps ran all over me and I sent another shot to it just to make sure it¡¯s dead. Seeing as there was nothing that could answer my questions here, I went to the spot where person that rode the horse landed. He was lying on the grass unmoving but I could hear his rasp breathing which obviously told me that he was very much alive. And the only relief that I could give it right now is a bullet to the head. I walked over to its lying figure and I immediately knew that this person was in no way, a human being, not even the goblins I¡¯ve seen could compare to the thing in front of me. What I thought to be its armor was actually an exoskeleton, and the orange blood I thought I imagined was not a trick of the eye. I could see mandibles right where the bottom of the jaw would be and a multitude of dark eyes looked at me. It was an insect in a humanoid form. I then heard a distinct shutter sound and I looked up to see Ron with his phone in his hand, he then took another picture and nodded to me. I nodded back and raised my barrel to point on the creature¡¯s head and squeezed the trigger, making its head snap back and spill a mass of orange goo off the back of his head. I then searched the area around us and noticed the panic whines of our tethered horses, they were really freaked out probably by the gunshots which made me very thankful that we dismounted first before firing. We probably would have fallen off our horses and broke something if we didn¡¯t. The sound of the caravan trundling on the dirt road then reached us along with the sound of people running coming ever closer. I looked behind me and saw Sydell along with the other two trailing behind, they scanned the forest and swept their rifles from side to side. Ilya and Notus then approached the horses and calmed them down while Sydell came to my side. He looked at the dirt covering our clothes then to the carnage by the field, he then shook his head and whispered something I didn¡¯t catch. Now that wave reached the clearing, the caravan doesn¡¯t need lead scouts anymore. So we rejoined the caravan and integrated ourselves with the guards. The guards finally stopped sending us their pointed glares as the sight of the pile of the demons and their beasts is not something to be easily ignored and is not something to be scoffed at. The change of pace felt good, seeing as I was starting to find their glares annoying. We then reloaded our magazines as we traveled down the burnt field that surrounded the town and in the distance, I could see people standing on their walls waving at us and we waved back just as the sun finally dipped below the horizon. All of a sudden, trumpets blared and the caravan picked up its pace. In the distance, I could see another mass of horsemen trotting straight to our direction, this time I estimated their number to be about five hundred. Rifles then popped along the walls, as they tried to dissuade the cavalry from continuing on their course and I could see dust puffs forming among the mass. Some figures fell while the others trotted on, ¡°Ready your weapons¡± I yelled as I changed my usual 30 round magazine back to the 75 round drum in preparation for our new guests. Luckily, someone in there must¡¯ve realized that they won¡¯t be able to make it as the mass changed course, taking it in a direction away from us. The studded wooden gate then opened and we finally entered the besieged town.
AN: Feedback goes far into improving the story. Don''t forget to share your thoughts, comments, suggestions below. Book 1: Ch 14 AN: I decided to try third person view for a bit so it''ll be a little awkward for a while.
Book 1: Ch 14 The giant reinforced doors of the northern gate slowly opened. The hinges, unused for the past week creaked in complaint as the convoy trundled its way inside the town. The town of Turin was designed like the Town of Lewe; it has two main avenues intersecting in the middle that divided the town into four sectors. As of now the convoy travelled along the avenue that separated the business sector and the residential. The convoy walked deeper into the town and everyone noted the pairs of eyes looking at them through the cracks opened in the doors and windows. It was a far cry from the jovial welcome Adrian expected. ¡°Man, this place is just plain creepy.¡± Ron muttered to Adrian as they both walked at the lead of the convoy. ¡°It is.¡± He agreed. The street ahead was just empty of anything that they could see the southern gate from where they are. There isn¡¯t a single soul in the avenue except them, not even a stray dog or an overgrown rat is seen scurrying around. Add the fact that they entered the town as it was just getting dark and the scene would almost look like they were inside a horror movie. A minute after, the same creaking sound was heard the second time as everyone had finally entered the confines of the besieged town. They continued on towards the direction of the Lord¡¯s manor and was intercepted by a group of guards holding torches to light the way. ¡°The Lord promised reinforcements to come from other towns but I¡¯ve never thought you¡¯d come so quick.¡± one of the guards said as he approached the convoy. He held a torch up high on one hand as he walked along the line of wagons until he came upon the lady who sat in the middle. ¡°Lady Marshall,¡± he bowed, ¡°I was personally instructed by the Lord Lundur to guide your convoy to his manor. I hope you would accept.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± The lady said as she sat elegantly on the wagon and radiated her noble bearing, ¡°You may lead the way.¡± The guard smiled and gave a deep bow, ¡°It will be done my Lady.¡± he then turned around and went off to order his men to guard the convoy as they travelled towards the Lord¡¯s manor. Unlike the Lord Marshall¡¯s manor, situated near the center of town and was practically a mansion, Lord Lundur¡¯s manor looked like a simple stone tower. The tower was built in the highest point in the town, thirty feet above the flat plains where everything else was built on. Add the tower¡¯s own height of about a hundred feet, it was the tallest and sturdiest structure within miles. The convoy trundled to the courtyard of the tower which was filled up to the brim with tents. Heads popped out at the sound of the convoy¡¯s arrival and everyone dismounted off their horses and wagons. Adrian looked around and saw that everyone camped inside the courtyard were all civilians. ¡°Hey Mr. Guard.¡± he yelled get the attention of one of their escorts, ¡°how come everyone here are all civilians?¡± he asked. ¡°The lord decided that everyone who lived near the walls relocate inside his manor. That way, it would be easier for the Lord to take care of the citizens and distribute rations.¡± one of the guards responded then left along with the rest of our escorts. There''s also the fact that they won''t be caught out when the outer walls would be breached, Adrian thought then turned to Ron, ¡°Well, at least leaders on this side knows what they''re doing.¡± ¡°And were just about to meet them.¡± Ron answered and nodded towards a sharp looking man that just came out of the tower then approached the convoy parked along the courtyard. ¡°Greetings and welcome to Turin,¡± he smiled ¡°My name is Sage Heres and I am the Lord¡¯s personal servant. Please, follow me.¡± he then turned around and led the Lady and her bodyguard inside tower with the three trailing behind. The interior of the tower stood at a stark contrast towards its exterior. The inside was well lit and a nice warm fire burned in the fireplace embedded on the walls. Banners hung in the ceiling and the cold stone floor of the tower was covered with velvet carpet. A huge long table, covered with white sheets, dominated the center of the space which Adrian decided that the first floor of the tower was the dining area. Plates and cutlery covered the long table and an old man sat on the head of it. The butler then led the group on the chairs near the Lord. Everyone sat down with the Lady seated on the chair nearest with the Lord with Malon seated next to her. Adrian took the seat on the other side of the table followed by Ron then Nick. Adrian examined the lord in the corner of his eye and sent subtle and covert glances towards the old Lord and determined that he gave the same feeling as the Lord Marshall himself. The Lord then sent a sharp glance at Adrian, ¡°Are you done gazing at greatness boy?¡± he said with amusement. The lady then sent her own to reprimand him. ¡°Sorry but it''ll take a while, there¡¯s too much greatness to take in.¡± Adrian replied with a grin. The Lord laughed, ¡°That¡¯s one way to stroke a man¡¯s ego.¡± he pointed, ¡°I would bet you¡¯d do well inside the king¡¯s court.¡± Then a pause, ¡°But that¡¯s a long way away from here and I don¡¯t think your purpose of coming here is not just to make an old man laugh.¡± Two men then entered the first floor of the tower, both wore chainmail that shone on the firelight. Both men had swords hanging off their belts. They then paused as they reached the tables to look at the ones already seated and silently took their own in the line. The Lord nodded at the two, ¡°These two are the commanders of the town watchmen. Bron Hallow,¡± he gestured at the man wearing a salt and pepper hair that was slicked back. He had piercing blue eyes and a deep crow¡¯s feet on the sides of his eyes. The man gave a bow to the Lady and a curt nod to the others to which everyone replied with their own, ¡°He is the commander of the Northern watchmen of the town and Hiram Fallow,¡± he gestured to the other, more younger looking man that gave the same respectful bow to the lady and a curt nod to the others. He had the same eyes as the old man but he wore greasy, unwashed hair. The man looked to not be able to bathe for a while. ¡°He is the commander of the Southern watchmen and is a person that is zealous in his work. Please, forgive his lapse of attention to personal hygiene.¡± the lord said the last words with irritation then continued. ¡°I¡¯m sure everyone is already hungry from all the hard word they did today, so we should eat before we continue with our business.¡± He declared then clapped followed by teams of servants moving in, each one held pots of delicious smelling food and laid them on the center of the table. ¡°I apologize Lady Marshall for the food since the siege doesn''t allow for excess or anything that is of luxury.¡± the Lord said as everyone waited to be served. ¡°Oh, no need to worry Uncle Jens,¡± The Lady smiled, ¡°My father didn¡¯t raise me spoiled, and I am thankful for him for doing that. As I would rather see the world as it is than hear it in flowery words whispered by servants.¡± The conversation concluded with that and everybody went on to eat their meals. It was stew. The meat shows signs of extensive boiling to ward off the gamy taste and inherent toughness of draft horse and oxen meat. The meal was then concluded and servants swooped in to clean the table. The plates and cutlery was then replaced by maps and models. The map placed on the table show the immediate area five miles around the town of Turin. Turin looked a lot like the town of Lewe, with its two main avenues and four quadrants, but the difference lies mainly on its walls and the stronghold that is the Lord¡¯s tower. ¡°Hiram,¡± the Lord called and the captain looked up. ¡°How about you give the Lady and her entourage a briefing of our defenses.¡± he said with a pleasant voice. The commander nodded and stood up, then continued to make the most detailed report Adrian had ever heard. The walls of Turin stood at a height of forty feet from the base, is twenty feet thick at the top and double that at the bottom. The walls were made with hardest rock mined off the cliff faces of mountains miles away. Towers were erected that stood up to a hundred feet and could accommodate siege weaponry or about forty archers or crossbowmen and their munitions. Gates were made of the densest of wood and reinforced with thick bands of iron. Its hinges were forged out of the best steel the town could make and it was embedded deep into the walls. In the eyes of Adrian and his friends, it looked very impressive. If not for their modern knowledge it would look to them as impregnable. Preparations were also done long before all of this. Years ago, Lord Lundur has ordered any rock of considerable size to be broken down to smaller sizes in order pose no threat to the walls. Saplings found nearby were ordered to be bent in order to not be able to be used as a battering ram. If the demon army decides to use siege weapons on the town, they would have to bring their own rocks to throw on the walls and bring their own trees to smash on the gate. The also town had itself a substantial armory filled with racks of swords, shields, spears along with bushels of crossbow bolts and the crossbows themselves along with two thousand volunteers to hold them. Two thousand taken from the total population of the town of ten thousand. So how does a simple farming town on the edge of a kingdom managed to sustain a military force of twenty percent of their population? Simple, they didn¡¯t. The town of Turin was in the outermost reaches of Rheorid kingdom -one of the remnants of the Baimux Empire and is now a kingdom- and borders the Great Plains where the last of the demon army is seen. The town grew grains on the bountiful plains and yielded a lot of excess food that were exported to other towns and cities. The town citizens would plant in the vast fields around the town during fall and they would harvest it in the middle of summer. With their main crops planted and growing, all they needed is to wait for it to grow which gave everyone enough leisure time to spend on other things, like training. It was the Lord¡¯s decree for it to be like this, and everyone under him understood it well. The threat of the Demon army that once destroyed an empire could come back once again was all too real and they would be the first ones to face them. Now their preparations will bear their fruit and the coming days would prove if it were enough. Adrian absorbed everything presented to him and nodded rhythmically as he held his chin. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like you guys got this all in the bag, I don¡¯t see a reason for us being here.¡± he said. ¡°You''re wrong.¡± Hiram replied, ¡°I wouldn¡¯t fault our own forces but I could only trust them to fight behind the walls and not in front them.¡± he grinned, ¡±they¡¯re just too smart for that. I would expect our forces to be able to repel the forces that camped beyond the southern gate but that unfortunately leaves the initiative of attacking to them. ¡°If the demon army decides to try to starve the town in a battle of attrition, this affair could last months, maybe years. Or maybe this five thousand strong army in front of our gates was only sent here to secure us in place in for another larger army to swoop in to storm the gates. So, leaving no other way, we have to cut the duration of this siege short. We need someone to take the fight to the enemy.¡± the pasty commander said and looked at the three expectantly. Adrian grinned. ¡°Not a chance. You''re expecting a few men to go up against an army of five thousand. I think you have something missing on your head and is not something to be easily fixed by a simple bath.¡± The atmosphere at the table just got colder as the commander sent an icy glare at Adrian. The other commander stared ahead, a trace of a grin on his face while the lady had a look of disbelief on her face, while Ron and Nick kept their best poker-faces and stood still behind Adrian. Their hands placed inconspicuously close to their sidearms. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. The Lord then laughed, defusing the situation. ¡°The boy¡¯s right Hiram. By the tone of what you''re saying, you''re asking them to simply go ahead and destroy the army by themselves while we stood by the walls cheering them on. Even if they could, I don¡¯t think the Lord Marshall paid them enough to do that.¡± Adrian smiled, ¡°Thank you for your wisdom Lord.¡± ¡°But of course we couldn''t just simply have you boys freeloading on behalf of our town while we wait for the other contingent coming from Lewe and maybe even as far as the town of Carlye. You got to give your contribution whenever it''s due.¡± the Lord continued, ¡°However you chose to contribute will be up to you. But the plan still stands, the citizens of Turin will fight behind Turin¡¯s walls while the reinforcements will attempt to dislodge the besiegers.¡± Adrian could only agree to the plan, it looked solid but still depends heavily on the timely arrival of reinforcements from other towns and the absence of any reinforcing party coming for the demon¡¯s army. The meeting was then concluded and everyone retired for the night. The new arrivals didn¡¯t have anywhere to sleep in so they elected to sleep back at their wagons but was denied by the Lord himself. He offered the guest rooms for everyone in the table and the Lady¡¯s bodyguard. It was an offer they couldn¡¯t simply refuse. The morning rays of the sun slipped into the cracks of the shuttered windows of the tower and a knock came at the door. The three lay in the four-post bed and stirred at the noise. Adrian groaned and got off the bed while the other two who he shared the bed with stirred in their sleep. It had been a while since the last time they laid their eyes on a soft bed, and they¡¯d be damned if they wouldn¡¯t sleep on it, even if it means sharing the bed with other men. The knock came a second time as Adrian reached for his clothes, this time, louder and faster. Hearing the urgency, Adrian quickly opened the door to see the Lady herself knocking. She wore her usual travel garb and paused, her eyes darted up and down on his figure and was silent for a while. Adrian caught her checking him out and inwardly smirked. Except for a well-fitting boxers, Adrian was almost naked, a month of his life living in a farm powered by muscle developed his already athletic build pre-transport to a buffed physique. He had toned arms, ones that looked like it was made with cords of steel. His low body fat gave his skin a taut appearance that clearly showed the ridges of his abs. The life of hard work in this dangerous world gave him the body of a Greek god and he was damn proud of it. The lady was still checking him out and is very much liked what she sees. Adrian caught this and did his best to give a blank face, he then leaned his arms on the doorframe and asked ¡°Can I help you my Lady?¡±. The question snapped the lady¡¯s attention back to him and she went back to her usual demeanor. ¡°Lord Lundur wishes to have another meeting at breakfast and I would like to have a word with you three before that. So I would advise that you three get in your attire and attend immediately.¡± she said with her ladylike formality. Her ears were red and Adrian could see sweat forming up on the base of her scalp. ¡®Holy shit¡¯, Adrian thought, ¡®It must''ve been the first time she saw a semi-naked man this close¡¯. Adrian smiled, ¡°Of course my Lady¡± he said and shut the door, hoping the lady would simmer down by the time they get dressed. It was time to wake the others up. Adrian approached the four-post bed and yanked the blankets off the bed, revealing two muscular men spooning. ¡°Wake up homos. The Lady is waiting outside. Get dressed.¡± he yelled as he took in the sight. Ron, who was the big spoon, got up first and it was then that a slight regret washed through Adrian that he should have taken a picture first. ¡°What¡¯s she want?¡± Nick mumbled as he slowly got up to get himself dressed. ¡°We got a meeting with the lord and the Lady wants to brief us first.¡± Adrian answered. ¡°Ooo, a breakfast meeting.¡± Ron chimed. The Demon army was arrayed in two blocks of a thousand still figures each in front of the southern gate. The sight looked a lot like a still picture through the 20x spotting scope Adrian used as he sat in one of the towers. There was no movement on the formation, no fidgeting and no shifting as the figures put their weight from one leg to the other. ¡°Man, I could see one reason among many why people called this the demon army. This shit is just plain creepy.¡± Adrian said. ¡°That¡¯s psychological warfare right here.¡± Ron replied as he lay atop his dragbag and aimed his rifle among the mass. The two commandeered the southwestern tower for themselves and set up a sniper¡¯s perch. Their goal is to wait for any juicy target to present itself; a captain, or any officer looking fellow and take him out with the intention of crippling and whittling down their leadership. But so far no target has ever presented itself. ¡°I bet they¡¯re trying to make us think that they¡¯re invulnerable or some shit, make us think they¡¯re the terminator.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a good thing we got something to counteract that. That Hiram guy must¡¯ve really know what he was doing.¡± Adrian answered. He then looked down towards the southern wall where at least two hundred spikes stood in plain view of the enemy. Demon¡¯s heads and their horses were impaled in each of those spikes both to act as a warning to the army and as a morale booster for their militia. It shows that even with what the legends told and what the enemies show, they could still be killed and they will be killed if they dare attack the walls. ¡°It¡¯s also a good thing that were all up on top of this tower and not down there. I¡¯d bet those heads would have risen up a stench in this heat.¡± Ron said. ¡°That shit also shows some really good organization among their ranks to manage to take all those heads in just one night.¡± ¡°That pasty guy must¡¯ve really earned whatever he is getting paid. I wouldn¡¯t even think of something like this, and I consider myself as a creative guy.¡± Adrian grinned, ¡°But never a smart one.¡± A knock came from the wooden hatch that secured the top of the tower ¡°We expecting someone?¡± Adrian asked as he got up to open it. Ron shrugged, not bothering to look up as he keept his eyes on the scope. Adrian then opened the hatch and the sight of the Lady¡¯s bodyguard. Malon was personally sent by the Lady¡¯s father and behind her stood the lady herself, Hilde Marshall. Adrian gave a pleasant smile, ¡°We weren''t expecting a visit from you my lady.¡± he greeted as he held his hands out to assist the Hilde in getting on top then followed by Malon. Adrian then noticed that she immediately looked at the rifle on Ron¡¯s hands and briefly studied it before going back to her job. Adrian grinned, the rifle in question is an Accuracy International L115A3, also known as Arctic Warfare Magnum or AWM for short. Chambered in the .338 Lapua magnum, it is the big brother of the AI AWP which was made very famous by being featured on a multitude of video games. It has the distinct green drab polymer stock with thumbhole grip and free-floating fluted barrel with a suppressor attached on end. Ron didn¡¯t bother to change the bipod that came with it but replaced the Schmidt Bender scope that came with it with something with better magnification and clarity. It was no surprise that anyone who would look at the rifle would want to have a go at it. ¡°We won''t be long¡± Hilde said as she stepped on top of the tower. She then approached the edge of the crenelated tower and gazed at the figures on the distance. ¡°So this is the demon army¡± she mumbled. ¡°If you want to take a better look, you can use that device right next to Ron.¡± Adrian offered, ¡°Just sit on the stool over there and peer into the small circular part of the device,¡± He said as he couldn''t just use the term ¡®Eyepiece¡¯ and ¡®spotting scope¡¯. Hilde took the offer and sat at the stool and lowered her head to look through the spotting scope. He gasped as she took in a more detailed look at the besiegers, ¡°Amazing¡± she whispered then cleared her throat as she looked up at Adrian. ¡°With all these devices that you have on your disposal, I wouldn''t be surprised if you declare yourselves as exiled princes from another kingdom.¡± she said. Ron looked up from the scope gave the lady a passing side glance before returning his gaze through the scope. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we won¡¯t.¡± Adrian replied. ¡°That is a very ambiguous answer,¡± she observed, ¡°Would you mind clearing that up?¡± Hilde then asked but Adrian merely answered with a shrug. Seeing this, the lady raised an eyebrow then changed the subject. ¡°Looking at your friend here, might I guess that you think you can make that seven hundred yard shot?¡± she inquired. Malon, the bodyguard, scoffed, ¡°Lady Marshall, don¡¯t be fooled by their posturing. They may bring with them wonderful devices but no one can make an accurate shot that long. Of course they could try, but they¡¯ll simply fail.¡± she declared, glaring at Ron who looked up from his rifle to meet his gaze. Ron¡¯s usual obnoxiousness and energy is now gone. Replaced by a docile front as he keeps himself as calm as possible and as deeper into the ¡®zone¡¯ as he could manage. Adrian expected a wiseass remark coming from him but Ron only gave Malon a pleasant smile and went back to his rifle. ¡°Apologies for that remark.¡± Hilde said, sending a sharp glance towards her bodyguard. ¡°Its fine Lady Marshall,¡± Ron answered, ¡°Sometimes, people just couldn''t believe someone else is better than them at something.¡± Then looked at Malon grinning, ¡°She would look at the one better than her with dismissal with a hint of resentment, which is now rising to a look of fury.¡± he laughed. ¡°Then I challenge you to make true with your boast.¡± Malon roared. ¡°No.¡± Ron replied flatly and Adrian gave an inward smirk, ¡®this¡¯ll be fun¡¯ he thought. Malon snorted, her face smug. ¡°Why? Are you afraid you aren¡¯t up to the task?¡± ¡°Nah,¡± Ron said, dismissing her with a wave, ¡°It¡¯s just that I don¡¯t have anything to gain in putting an arrogant woman in her place.¡± ¡°Why, you!¡± Malon muttered as she stomped towards him. ¡°Malon, stop!¡± Hilde declared and her bodyguard followed, ¡°Ron is right, he has nothing to gain in the arrangement. So how about we make it worth it if he proves it wasn¡¯t a boast?¡± she offered. Ron thought about it for a while, ¡°Alright, does your bodyguard clean your rooms once in a while?¡± he asked Hilde, ignoring the bodyguard. ¡°Yes,¡± Hilde answered, ignoring the panicked glance that her bodyguard sent her, ¡°that is one among her duties.¡± Ron smiled, ¡°Good, then I want her as my bodyguard for a day.¡± ¡°NO!¡± the bodyguard screamed. ¡°Deal¡± Hilde declared, smiling. The two left a while after that and Adrian and Ron went back to their usual mind numbing work. ¡°I hope you know what you¡¯re doing.¡± Adrian said. ¡°I do, don¡¯t worry.¡± Ron answered, and both men kept back to their silence. ¡°You know,¡± Adrian muttered after a while, ¡°I never would have fucking thought hunting officers would be this boring.¡± ¡°Yep.¡±
Support your authors AN: This is my early forays into third person so I''d really appreciate any feedback in it. Don''t forget to share your thoughts, ideas, criticisms on the comments below. Trust me, they go a long ways in helping a rookie writer.