Treachery (The Terra Trials Book 1)

by Dan Thomas

  “Don’t worry about me, it won’t be the first time it’s happened, I’ll get as many people out as I can.”

  Max nodded, hoping that he might be one of those people if shit hit the fan.

  They carried on in relative quiet for a while, only a few people talking, and in low voices at that. The animals kept spooking at shadows and looking around restlessly.

  The group had made it just over halfway from the Hub, too far to run back if they were attacked, but they were still some way off from the relative safety of the dense forest ahead.

  A gargled, inhuman screech from behind sent Max’s adrenaline pumping. He spun around but could only see the other players launching arrows, javelins, and darts at empty space.

  “The flanks!” a hoarse voice yelled, but nobody could react fast enough as someone standing too close to the edge of the road, with a flash of feathers, was pulled backward kicking and yelling into the grass.

  Those who were standing closest loosed arrows, slings, and spears at the unseen foe, but none made any obvious contact, disappearing below the grass.

  “Shit! Krilf!” someone hollered, shouldering their way through the group to where the player had been dragged away. He held a club made of the lower jaw of something that once had sharp teeth in hand. Raising it high, he leaped into the grass, wading through the sea of stalks, swinging the weapon wildly.

  “Get back here!” another person shouted from the path. “You won’t make it!”

  The player ignored everyone watching from the road, forging through the grass, cursing.

  “Oh, he’s so screwed,” Chopsticks said.

  Max caught sight of two patches of rustling grass, speeding in his direction.

  “Watch out!” someone called.

  The player looked around wild-eyed. He seemed to see something that the others couldn’t and charged forward, the bone club held high as he roared.

  “Damn,” Sam said. “He’s actually going to try and take one on.”

  Just as the player raised his weapon, about to strike whatever it was he was running at, he was knocked flying as if hit by a car. He yelled out, but it was cut short, and once again silence reigned, only fringed by the soft brushing of grass.

  “Welp,” Chopsticks said.

  Nobody had to say anything for the group to begin moving forward again, now at a much less sedate pace. No one here wanted to lose any gear or levels to their stalkers.

  Before long, movement in the grass became visible once again. Several rustling patches on either side of the road kept pace with the group. A few people launched more projectiles at them, but with no luck.

  Something grabbed Max’s arm, and he spun around to look straight into the face of the guy he’d been talking to.

  “Get ready to run.”

  The stranger held onto Max’s arm as they slowed down, pulling to the back of the group as everyone walked past them. Max brought his spear up to hold it in both hands, squinting at the grass to look for any sign of the danger he was expecting. He could feel the apprehension in the silence from Sam and Chopsticks.

  As the group pulled ahead of him, he watched almost in slow motion as five of the slim, ostrich-sized dinosaurs materialized at the edge of the grass, leaping impossibly fast. Two landed on players, the dinos’ vicious clawed feet piercing their chests, taking them to the ground, and with a flick of their slender muzzles finished them off. They weren’t as large as Utahraptors but were much more streamlined with longer legs and slimmer bodies.

  Another latched onto the back of a Hadrosaur, which reared up, knocking over its owner, and bolted forward, trampling other players as the predator clung onto it.

  The last two Unenlagia sprinted farther into the group, barging through the players. More of the pack animals in the group spooked, refusing to listen to their owners as they bulldozed through the players, scattering into the grass.

  Max pointed his spear out as one of the Unenlagia sprinted in his direction, everyone dodging out of the way as it sped through the group. It suddenly swerved, raising a leg to try and catch a lightly armored player with the sickle-like claw on its foot.

  The player managed to duck out of the way, swinging a club that smacked against the creature’s side as it passed him, trying to slow down from its sprint and missed attack.

  It swung around as someone else thrust with a spear, cutting down its side, but the player moved too slowly when the dino lunged forward, sinking its jaws into the player’s shoulder as their body crumpled from the attack.

  Toward the front of the group, Max could see someone had managed to keep control of their Velociraptor, which was slashing its talons at one of the attackers as it tried to get around another player’s guard.

  Still holding Max’s arm, the stranger pulled him toward the edge of the road.

  “What are you doing?” Max tried to shrug him off. “There aren’t that many of them, we can help fight them off.”

  He glanced over at the group, which was working on surrounding the attacking dinosaurs. One of the attackers lay dead among the scattered bodies of players and pack animals. “Trust me, you don’t want to try to fight them.” As the stranger said that, another maybe fifteen more Unenlagia threw themselves at the players and dinos from the edge of the road, most of them killing whatever they landed on instantly before leaping off and continuing the slaughter.

  “Whoa,” Max breathed, letting himself be led away from the path and into the tall grass.

  He crouched down, following the stranger into the plains. They only had to take a few steps before they lost sight of the path through the thick grass. But their cover did little to dull the sounds of battle.

  The stranger stopped and turned back to Max. “You’re going it alone from here. The dinos can only see as much as you do, but they can smell you. They’ll be distracted with the fight and anyone running away, for now, so just keep your head down, and head for the tree line.”

  “What about—” Max stopped. The stranger had already gone, melting into the grass. “Crap.”

  “Just get moving, dude,” Chopsticks said.

  Keeping low, Max used his spear to part the grass in front of him, wary of the fact that his next step could put him face to face with the apex predators of the area.

  As he crept forward, the noise of struggles spread out around him, he could hear frightened animals and players alike running through the plains, as well as the otherworldly shrieks of the Unenlagia giving chase.

  Taking a chance, Max bobbed his head up, looking for the direction he needed to be going. He’d never felt so blind without an innate sense of direction from a higher Intuition. He could see the tree line, tantalizingly close, as well as the skirmishes being fought where the original group had split, everyone trying to get to the safety of the trees.

  It was now that Max could see the true strength of the Unenlagia, as a pair sprinted on powerful legs, their small wing-like arms outstretched either side to balance them as they whipped over the ground. Three players making a run for safety didn’t stand a chance. Two of them went down only seconds later, the predators having no problem dispatching their prey before making a short dash to catch the third.

  Max ducked back down, taking a deep breath as he carried on, changing direction to head for the jungle. Max’s apprehension grew as the fighting began to quiet down over the next few minutes. As much as Max didn’t wish ill against the strangers he’d been traveling with, he felt much safer while the Unenlagia were busy tearing them apart.

  He stuck his spear out once again, peering through the grass, and was surprised when instead of seeing the continuous wall of wheatgrass, there was a channel of trampled stalks.

  “That must be a runway that the Unenlagia use,” Sam said.

  Max nodded as he peeked his head out and looked both ways, checking that the trail was clear. “I think you’re right.” Max stepped into the clear area. “It heads toward the trees. I’m going to stick to this, it’ll be quicker than the grass.�
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  “That’s all well and all until a pack of them come this way looking for their next meal,” Sam warned.

  “It’ll be fine, they’re too busy eating all the other dinners they’ve found. As long as Max doesn’t hang around, he’ll be fine,” Chopsticks reassured them.

  “All right,” Sam said disapprovingly.

  Making sure to stay below the tops of the grass, Max made his way along the trampled-down path in the direction of the jungle, moving much quicker now that he wasn’t having to fight against the grass.

  “See, this is better,” Chopsticks said.

  “It’s easier, I just wish that I still had Holic’s tracking skills, then I could at least tell which tracks were old or new, and maybe find a safer path,” Max said.

  Sam sighed. “That would be useful. How far off are you now?”

  “I’m not sure.” Max stopped for a second, tuning his hearing to the fading noise of battles around him. When he was sure that there wasn’t any movement nearby, he slowly stood up. Relief washed over him when he realized just how close he was to the jungle. It looked as though this little path would take him right up to the edge of the trees. He turned his gaze back toward the hub. From what he could see, there were still a few fights happening, but the Unenlagia appeared to be satisfied with their hunt, as a small band of players had regrouped, and were making their way down the remainder of the road into the jungle.

  Max froze, spotting a brightly colored, feathered head that appeared just a few yards away.

  “Max, move!” Sam yelled down the microphone, but it was too late. With bird-like movements, the Unenlagia’s head twisted around, locking gaze with Max.

  Time stood still for a moment as Max and the dinosaur watched each other, each waiting to see who made the first move.

  Max took the initiative, stooping back down. “That’s not good.”

  “No, it’s really not. Max, you’ve got to get to the trees,” Sam said.

  Max scrambled on through the trail, trying to stay as low as he could while moving as fast as possible. He kept straining his hearing for any movement coming toward him, spooking at the waning shouting of his ex-companions.

  “I’ve got to be close now,” Max muttered. The temptation to look up and see how far he needed to go was almost overwhelming, but he knew that would likely mean certain death.

  “I can hear something,” Chopsticks said. “I think it’s close!”

  Max paused and looked over his shoulder down the path of trampled grass. Chopsticks was right, he could hear muted footsteps coming his way.

  Max broke off the path and back into the sea of grass.

  Just moments later, the feathered body of an Unenlagia passed just beside him. The dino was hunched over, moving slower than it normally would as it kept its body low. Through the thick fronds of grass, Max could just about see the feathers rippling along its body as it passed.

  “Wow, that was close.” Sam let out the breath she had been holding.

  “You’re telling me.” Max pushed his spear out, moving the grass aside as he went to forge forward, but stopped before he took a step.

  The hairs on the back of this neck stood on end as he heard a breathy hissing behind him.

  With his spear clutched tight, Max slowly turned around. The Unenlagia had come back down the trail. Nostrils at the end of a narrow muzzle flared as it sniffed at the ground, raising up to sniff the grass. The slitted pupil set into its red eyes dilated as it saw Max through the grass.

  “The Concealer!” Sam’s voice shouted into Max’s ear.

  Max darted sideways, dodging a little prematurely as the Unenlagia lunged at him. The dino had time to correct its attack, it’s snapping jaws tearing into Max’s arm.

  With a yelp, Max twirled away, tripping up over the grass and hitting the ground.

  The Unenlagia towered over him, its teeth bared as it readied itself to finish the job.

  Max reached into his pocket, his fingers curling around the small collection of circuits. Holding down the button, he brought it out, sticking it onto his clothes and letting go of the button.

  The Unenlagia stamped its foot down toward him, Max barely rolled out of the way, feeling the killing claw slice down his back.

  He stumbled up to his feet and ran. He immediately felt lighter on his feet, and the grass no longer tore at him as he sped away without looking back. He was close to the sanctuary of the jungle, but he had one last dash that he wouldn’t make if he were racing against one of the Unenlagia.

  Bushes and shrubs were growing up through the grass where the forest was trying to encroach into the plains. Max beelined for the closest one, throwing himself down under it, panting as he rested his head on the cool dirt.

  He kept his spear clutched to his chest, listening for the sounds of pursuit. But it was quiet.

  With his breath back, Max sat up, faced with the strange sensation of not being able to see his body, and finally relaxed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Okay, let’s get moving,” Chopsticks said as if he were the one hiding in a bush.

  Max opened his character overview. He was bleeding from the gash, but luckily it was only minor. He’d lose a little health, but it wasn’t enough to be his main concern right now.

  He closed the screen down and gritted his teeth, pushed himself to a standing position, and took a step out of his leafy sanctuary. “Are we sure they can’t see me? I mean, I can’t see me, but what if they can sense me or something?”

  “Only one way to find out.” Chopsticks mentally slapped him on the back excitedly. “Get out there!”

  “You know, I really think you should be doing this,” Max told his friend. “You are enjoying this way more than me.”

  “Chopsticks always likes watching other people suffer,” Sam said bluntly.

  “That’s not true.” Chopsticks paused and Max could picture the grin spreading over his face. “Okay, maybe it is.”

  “But he’s right,” Sam agreed. “You can’t just hide there forever.”

  Max slowly stood up, his head moving above the stalks of the grass. He was out in the open now, scanning the area around him.

  The metallic taste of blood tainted the warm air. The battle was definitely coming to an end, only a few pockets of fighting still ongoing. Several Unenlagia were visible, feasting on their catches. Most of the surviving players, some still with their animals, were making a run for the jungle.

  “Max, you need to get going,” Sam reminded him. “We don’t know how long the Concealer is going to work.”

  Max winced as he moved, his fresh wounds burning. “You’re right.”

  Max turned toward the jungle and ran.

  “That’s it, run. Run, Max, run!” Chopsticks yelled.

  “I am running,” Max told him between breaths. “And it’d be a lot easier if you weren’t screeching in my ear like a banshee.”

  “Screeching is still gonna be the most useful thing Chopsticks does all day,” Sam said acidly.

  “Ha, fricking ha,” Chopsticks said drily.

  “Hey, kids, I got this, why don’t you take a time-out,” Max suggested as he leaped over a ditch at the edge of the trees. He was impressed by how long Sam and Chopsticks had managed to get along in the same room, but like Max, they were probably beginning to tire.

  A sense of relief washed over him like the heat of the sun beating down on his back faded, he immediately felt cooler as he passed under the shade of the trees.

  “Watch your stamina,” Chopsticks warned as Max ducked a branch, his breathing becoming heavier.

  “I’m watching.” Max stopped his forward momentum and rested for a moment in a crouched position, glancing around at the trees surrounding him. Exerting himself was much more manageable in the shade of the trees, but he still couldn’t go far without stopping to catch his breath and letting his stamina recover some. He raised an invisible hand to wipe his forehead. “This is so weird.”

  He lifted his right h
and and held it in front of his face. He was much more confident in the Concealer now that he could see it at work.

  “Do you know which way you’re going, by the way?” Chopsticks asked.

  Max glanced up at the light filtering through the canopy. “Not really. Murf doesn’t have any Traits to help with navigation, and I can’t see the sun from here. I’m going to have to find somewhere high up so I can see which direction I’m going.”

  “But, as long as you’re moving away from Cerribue, you’ll be going in mostly the right direction, remember,” Sam interjected.

  “Right...geez, you take so long to recover.” Chopsticks sighed. “You need to get training. We need to build this sucker up.”

  Max reached for his bag, swinging it around and patting it to find the opening on it, which he couldn’t see. He fumbled around inside, grabbed the waterskin, and took it out. Still keeping a watch on the world around him, he took a swig. He could feel his breathing rate slowing as his stamina recovered a little faster with the liquid intake.

  “I’m going to have to find some Staples, especially Pluck Agaric. With the experience boost to my Constitution, I should be able to build my stamina up a little quicker.” Max stood up and looked around. The farther he moved away from the open plains and the Unenlagia, the happier he’d be. The edge of the forest was still a danger zone with its lack of thick undergrowth in between the twisted tree roots. If the Concealer failed now, he might still encounter a lone dinosaur that had strayed from the pack.

  “Okay, while you, run look for trails. Footprints. Even if you only spot a few, you’ll be able to start getting your Intuition leveled up. Once you’re deeper into the forest, you should be able to find plenty of Staples,” Sam instructed.

  “Max does know what he’s doing,” Chopsticks retorted.

  “Really? Because with the way you talk to him, I figured he really was a noob,” Sam said cuttingly.

  “Guys, why not go get some sleep and leave this to me,” Max suggested.

  The room behind him went quiet then Sam spoke. “Maybe we should take shifts. If you’re all right taking first watch, I’m gonna go get some sleep.”