by Han Yang
A few times I’d miss a shot, getting heated. Other times I’d shoot two with one round and cheer.
The result was always the same. A bang followed by death in some form sooner or later. The narocks, regardless of variation, always killed their wounded for me. It was like they couldn’t help but cement their vicious nature.
Eventually the dead grew so thick, we had to angle the boat so I could start hitting the targets hiding behind the corpses. During this last evening, those who sulked around the bodies and feasted out of view, gorged themselves.
The theory was that the survivors would be bloated with food and retreat during the day to sun. Between the hundreds and hundreds of dead and the fattened narocks, we should be able to loot much needed supplies with minimal interference, I figured.
If I had all the time in the world, I would have found a perch that overviewed the docks and sniped the city clean. The mine needed us, though, and I’d need more ammo too. I considered switching weapons and ammunition types, but only for a fleeting second.
No, I wasn’t going onto the land to flank them. Instead, I shot the narocks who ventured into the open and waited for the morning sunrise.
Today, we were going to risk the city again and not a moment too soon if anyone asked the crew.
Everyone complained in some form. Either they were sick of the food, they couldn’t sleep because of the constant discharge of Henry, the clean steam water was low so there was no shower, or because there was no privacy.
The boat wasn’t meant to be a home, and I forced us to turn it into one. Still, Beverly consoled her children, Willow slept a lot, Cella shared her food, and Craig started using a filled in boot and a crutch to walk on his own.
The ship received much needed maintenance too. We cleared out the coal storage and restacked it, looted wood to restock the kindling pile, Dex cleaned out the boiler container of muck, and we even added shading with the sloops' sails over the bow and stern decks.
A trail of venting smoke from the furnace being lit told me it was game time. I proceeded to double check my gear. Both dragons were fully loaded, Henry had a fresh round in the chamber, and my bandoliers were maxed out, and my boots were laced down tight.
I slung my bag over my back and secured the straps. Craig hobbled out of his room, wincing with each step. Sally walked up the stairs, standing behind Yilissa to assume her role as driver once we docked.
We all moved like a well-oiled machine. They knew their parts. Sally was the getaway driver, while Craig was the sniper, and spotter. Beverly, Willow and the older children would also watch from the upper deck, leaving the rest of us going into Opo.
Once the fire roared and the steam built up, the Apple chugged toward the docks. Yilissa guided us in and I departed for the bow docking point. When I reached the passenger compartment, I saw nervous faces and mostly unarmed people.
I handed a spare dragon to Kevin who promptly handed it to Dex. I didn’t question the merits of the trade, but I did use the attention I had from everyone.
“The sun is rising. The narocks are fed or dead. Our first goal is to run to arm everyone. Careful where you step, do not fall behind, and we will always have lookouts while we loot. Survival items. Items for a home underground. Items for farming above ground. Tools for building. Oh, and oil lamp holders. Those are the key,” I said resolutely.
I saw Matt raising his hand.
“Yes Matt. We understand your ankle is still swollen and not up to running. Clear the local warehouses, grab a cart, and loot what you can. Yilissa really wants cloth from the tactile warehouse for clothing, sheets, and privacy.
“Craig will be watching over you, and you have his pistol. We will be bringing back more firearms that can handle the rounds we have below deck. And that does it. Kevin, tie up the front, I’ll get the back. If I die, Yilissa is in charge,” I said.
“A woman!?” Cella blurted.
“Yeah, a woman, but I’m not dying,” I said, heading to the back of the ship.
Cella followed. “That Kevin fella is really responsible.”
“Ha, he’s smitten by Yilissa.”
“Just a little,” Kevin shouted from the interior.
Cella huffed. “You’re serious.”
“Women can lead. Tits or balls, irrelevant. Surviving is. I have to focus, and you do too,” I said.
The dock grew quickly, and I readied the tether rope in my hand. I hopped on the edge of the ship and jumped the closing gap.
Thud!
Apple crashed into the docks with a jolt. The wood and metal creaked, but nothing busted.
Leaping into action, I loosely secured the rope before trotting to the front of the ship.
Kevin jumped off the ship, firmly anchoring the bow to the dock. Dex and Fen slid the ramp into place to complete the connection. Cella, Beverly, Yilissa, and Matt followed behind them with Cella taking point.
Beverly said, “There’s enough people staying behind. I’m coming.” I went to protest but she held up her hand. “Nathanael is seven and Rita is eleven. They’ll help Matt. We’re not helpless.”
She all but stomped her foot. I waved her to join us, not responding and figuring that was enough. We needed help, and they could help. Beverly joined the group on the docks and her children postured beside Matt.
“Alright, the west market is this way, follow me,” Cella said, taking off at a fast jog.
Before I joined them, I watched to see how the beast would react. About a half mile down the docks, a few narocks shifted their heads to notice us. None did more than steal a glance before returning to their food.
While that was a positive sign, I saw at least fifty beasts of various sizes eating peacefully amongst themselves. Opo wasn’t even close to being cleared, and I’d have to live with that fact.
This hurt my pride, mostly because I had hoped to have made a big dent in the population, but Opo was ground zero for the invasion. It’d take far more than a few days of shooting, by a single man, to secure this town.
Without a towering wall and a large defense force, Opo would forever be in the hands of the beasts.
I let the thoughts drop, running over the road that stretched four wagons wide. Cella ran between warehouses, taking us deeper into the city. Since she was at the front, she hauled the shotgun at an odd angle. The woman was fit, but not a soldier.
After seeing everyone keeping up, I scanned the city we ran though.
The orange hue of the early morning sun cast long shadows. The buildings in this section of town revealed signs of damage and an awful stench of decay. Everywhere I looked, I saw signs of narocks, not humans.
The warehouse district and the docks likely would have limited cellars and with that assumption, I doubted people would flee here. This wasn’t the private boat harbor. Getting on a barge wouldn’t save the desperate, and I highly doubted folks ran here to hide.
Cella turned left, skidding to a halt.
I rounded the corner, seeing a wounded alpha narock. I didn’t slow, pumping my legs harder. The second I knew I couldn’t miss the shot I hip-fired Henry.
Bang!
The brains of the beast splattered against the side of a building.
“Thanks,” Cella said, running by me while I reloaded.
I slowed, ensuring everyone stayed close. “Pick it up, people. This is why I said to do jumping jacks, sit-ups, pushups, and lunges,” I said. “We just let the entire narock population know we’re here.”
“There’s a wagon in this alley,” Cella said from up ahead.
I returned to running hard, feeling my lungs welcoming the morning air and exertion. This alleyway rested between the office sides of the warehouses. All the doors were small, not meant for loading or unloading.
When I reached Cella, I saw a big wagon which should have been on the other end of the buildings. This was the kind that took four oxen to haul, and you’d stick a boat on.
With it being empty we could move it. Laden down would be a whole other s
tory.
“Smaller, keep running,” I ordered.
Cella turned right at the next intersection and the warehouses merged into a market district. Where the two zones met. A small water park rested in the middle. Hand pumps drew water up for children to play in the sun and splash in.
If there weren’t three baby narocks eating a decomposing human, I’d have been lost in imagining its grandeur before the invasion.
Henry bounced off my side, staying on my body with its sling. I bull charged the babies and swapped to a revolver. My long dragon fit in my palm perfectly and I waited to close the gap before firing.
This time, Cella joined me in my attack. The narocks noticed us, their heads perking up curiously. Calling them babies was a bit of a misnomer. These beasts were still big enough to kill, being bigger than a North American gator and taller than a hound.
The putrid smell from the dead body hit me like a brick wall. I gagged but continued closing the distance.
Ka-Boom!
A few things happened in an instant. Cella fired too early, peppering the narocks and causing a whole bunch of little wounds that weren’t grievous. She also flew backwards, not bracing to fire the shot. The three narocks, who were mostly curious, suddenly shrieked out in pain before fleeing.
By some miracle, she managed not to shoot me, and for that, I was grateful.
Each of my long strides closed the gap between the wounded beasts and me. I skidded to a halt near the dead body, taking aim at the narocks.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Three shots, three kills. The bodies twitched and one of them may live for a few more minutes, but they’d all die soon enough.
I glanced down at the corpse. A man in a business suit and by the looks of him, he had died a while ago. A pistol sat on his hip and a .44 repeater rested nearby. Kevin caught up, snatched the weapons, and handed them out.
“Thanks,” I said, seeing Dex pick up Cella.
“By the Great Mother’s saggy tits that shotgun has a kick,” Cella said.
“Reload as you jog. No time to be sitting around. And before you fire a shotgun, plant your feet,” I said. “Your aim was on point though, you made them easier to kill.”
“Thanks, I think,” Cella said, inspecting a scrape on her elbow. She plopped the shotgun open, transitioning into a jog. I watched her struggle, but she trooped on. “Not far now.”
“Help!” a man shouted from the upper floor of a saddle selling store.
He had his shutters flown open. I was kinda surprised by the man. He wasn’t starving, neatly groomed, and smiling. Just about the opposite I expected for someone who spent the last thirty days staying alive in a narock infested city.
Cella diverted.
“Don’t, he can join us, or he can keep screaming,” I said.
The man scoffed. “I got three youngins,” he shouted.
“Then bring them down,” I shouted back.
“You just aren’t the trusting type are you,” Dex said with a snicker.
Yilissa shouted to the man. “I can catch them.”
“Toss me food first and I’ll give you the children,” the man hollered back.
“Great,” I said. “I briefed you all on this. We saw this with the fall of Earth. It’s like our mine, once you're there and safe it's great. Until it can’t hold more folks. People find a base, it can’t hold any more people, so they lure in folks to loot them. Who the hell asks for food before their child’s safety?”
“I’m starving,” the man shouted. He realized the gig was up, reaching for something behind the windowsill.
My brain pieced together a few things in a flash. He had line of sight on the dead man. He had the ability to get water from the pumps. One narock crashing through the roof, ended his existence, but without a doubt he had survived, and I didn’t like what he was reaching for.
I skidded to a halt and raised Henry. The man didn’t notice my sudden aggressive posture because he raised a repeater.
I didn’t have a choice.
I exhaled before he could get a bead on anyone, and begrudgingly squeezed the trigger.
Bang!
His head exploded and the group jolted. The body teetered out of the window, landing below with a smack. Kevin diverted, looting the weapon, and we carried on like the man never existed. But he had, and I blew his brains out.
I’d sleep at night because that asshole had it coming. I expected some sort of comment, but it became abundantly clear I had saved the group from being shot.
I scanned rooftops, finding them devoid of threats. The buildings in the market section were a mix of one to three stories, each having an alleyway. I did see far less damage than I expected.
On the main market road, at least a dozen wagons lay near the store fronts. Many of them were crumpled from damage. Signs of fighting at the front of the wagons left me sad. Narocks tended to eat the bones of their victims. The spots where horses or oxen died revealed splattered blood stains.
A few of the wagons would work for our purpose and most held looted content in their beds.
“Spread out, get a weapon, and then inspect the wagons. If they can roll, consolidate them here. Bring the best stuff to this one spot, if you see something, run. Yilissa and I are on overwatch,” I shouted.
The group fanned out and Yilissa joined me at a central point. Kevin hauled over a sparsely loaded hand cart with cans of beans on it. The moment he set the brake, I jumped onto the platform, even standing on top of the cans.
A second quick scan of roof tops and alleyways revealed no signs of living narocks.
I let Henry hang from its sling, cupping my hands around my mouth.
“Attention survivors of Opo. We are going upriver. If you want to leave the city, this is your moment. The trip will be arduous, and you will have to follow my orders. No if, ands, or butts. However, we also have killed hundreds of narocks recently. This is your best opportunity to leave the city,” I shouted as loud as I could.
“This wagon has… repeaters, booze, at least a dozen bags of heavy salt, and… childrens toys,” Cella called out. “I can’t wheel it.”
“Grab the toys,” I said.
“You’re kidding right?” Cella shouted.
“Nope, we’ll have more kids. Grab the toys,” I responded quickly.
Yilissa sighed from behind me. “I was hoping more people would come to us.”
I saw a webo’narock poke its head out of the top of a boot store, finding us curious. I aimed, exhaled, and gently squeezed.
Bang!
The creature startled, trying to duck back down in time. The top half of its skull peeled back, exposing its brains for a brief second before the beast vanished from whence it came.
I smoothly reloaded Henry with a grin.
“This is my town,” I said with a grunt.
Dex and Fen rolled over a laden wagon. I stole a peek into the contents and noticed food, camping supplies, and personal items.
“Any weapons?” I asked.
Fen held up a .54 Yager rifle, and I nodded in approval. “This baby is nice.”
Dex said, “We both have belted on revolvers, .45 caliber. This wagon had ammo too. There… There were bloody handprints on the side. Meaning something got the jump on them.”
“I figured we’d need to kick down doors, not find loot in the streets,” I said.
“Well, moving all this is going to be a huge pain,” Yilissa mentioned while continuing to scan.
Cella ran over chucking the box of toys by my feet. “Bessy’s Medical is right there,” Cella said.
“I got this,” Yilissa said, rotating on the hand cart, keeping her vigilant watch.
I paused, not wanting to rush any decision. Kevin arrived, carrying a sack of chicken feed.
“This. We need this for planting. Opo gardening will have diverse seeds, but they’re on the other side of town. We can eat this too. There’s another dozen bags of this in the general store across th
e street,” Kevin said, pointing to a ruined storefront with no second story.
A key decision juncture. I was certain I’d earned a quest chain and against my normal judgment I clicked my linker.
Quest.
Quest 6: Explore Opo-rific General Store.
Reward: Earn 10 points.
Quest 7: Explore Bessy’s Medical store.
Reward: Earn 10 points.
“And that is why I don’t do that,” I said with a huff. Kevin glanced at me funnily. “Feed or medical supplies?”
“Feed. I can’t cure starvation,” Kevin said with a grunt.
I wagged a finger at him. “Fair point. Yilissa, get on the wagon.”
She jumped to the driver’s bench and vaulted up to the boxy roof. I picked up the hand cart running with Kevin toward the general store. Cella ran with us with her shotgun at the ready.
“Hello,” a soft-spoken voice said from the alley next to the story. A lad in his early teens hoisted a gun with a shaky hand.
“Easy there,” I said, setting down the cart in front of the store.
Cella threw caution to the wind running for the youngster.
“Lenny,” Cella said. “Oh, by the Great Mother. Lenny is a student of mine.”
The kid lost it. He dropped the gun and flung himself into her arms, tears pouring down his face. As sentimental as the moment was, I followed Kevin into the store.
Shelves laid on their side, the contents strewn everywhere. I frowned at the fact that the sacks of chicken feed were near the back door. We navigated the mess, and the canned food sections were all raided unfortunately.
Based on Lenny’s proximity. He picked a smart spot to hunker down in, having easy access to food. At least Lenny’s cheeks weren’t protruding. However, the kid survived, he managed to eat. I just had to hope I hadn't blown his dad’s brains out.
When I reached the cart, I slung the sacks over the other items. Lenny, and three kids his age, followed Cella toward the wagon. They looked pitiful with ragged clothing and muck filled nappy hair. Their sorry sight almost brought tears to my eyes.