Reincarnation Trials: A LitRPG Apocalypse (Systems of Salvation Book 1)

by Han Yang

  “Hey Kevin, if four kids can sneak up on us,” I said with concern, letting the sentence hang.

  “Do a sweep. I’d rather haul the rest of the feed myself than die with you having your hands full,” Kevin said.

  “Right… Right. I have my role, it just makes me feel like shit,” I mumbled.

  “I heard that. Relax. We bitch and moan about life sucking, but we do understand that you’re not the problem. You’re busting your ass to give us a chance, that isn’t lost on us. Leonard… my last leader, he was a tyrant. Morale sucked and everyone but us probably is dead,” he said.

  I covered him while he snagged two more sacks.

  “Basically. I’m glad you’re in charge. You're keeping us alive and there’s hope. And yeah, I’m happy Yilissa rescued us. Even if she is more promiscuous than I hoped,” Kevin said with a snicker.

  “There’s more fish in the sea my friend. Be patient. The ratios are on our side,” I said with a wink.

  “The heart wants what the heart wants, but I’ll keep an open mind.”

  I nodded, grabbing a box of soap before leaving him. Besides Kevin, everyone stuck to the street, moving supplies from wagons to the one we picked out. Beverly worked on organizing while others brought her goods.

  In front of the wagon, the young teens talked animatedly to Cella. Something clearly had them agitated.

  “Cella, what does Lenny know?” I asked.

  She held a finger up to me, asking me to wait while she chatted with the teens. I ignored her as well, climbing up to join Yilissa.

  “They’re not starving, and neither was that man,” Yilissa said.

  “I’m almost positive they hid in the general store’s cellar.”

  Fen carried a box with a red cross on it while Dex hauled a cooking set. I continued to survey the scene. Beverly left the wagon running into a fishing store. Fen made another run to a distant wagon, running back with a big sack of lemons. A calm settled over the area minus the hushed talk from the young teens.

  “Help!”

  Beverly ran out of a store shrieking. The white of her eyes revealed a terror filled woman. Behind her, a wounded narock struggled on three legs, trying to catch her.

  Yilissa raised her weapon, firing right as I sighted with Henry.

  Crack!

  The round zipped by Beverly before lodging into the neck of the beast.

  The teenagers cried out and Cella blocked them from the threat. The prog’narock collapsed with a puff of dust, gasping for air that failed to reach its lungs.

  “All for some damn fishing poles,” Beverly shouted in anger at the dying beast. She raised her pistol and fired four shots, ending its suffering.

  “A whole lot of noise,” Yilissa said. “And we already have fishing poles at the mine.”

  “We’re not at the mine and Nathanael has been begging for a pole. It's for morale,” Beverly grumbled, sticking the poles and tackle box into the wagon. “Sorry about the noise.”

  “A woman screaming followed by gunshots is the right kind. Narocks dying and humans shouting in anger, not fear, could lure more folks out,” I said.

  Cella came over and waved me down.

  When I joined her on the bench, she said, “That man you killed. He’s oldman Hartinger. I… I did things I’m not proud of to stay alive while I was a captive. Well, Hartinger got the drop on the five teens. The oldest girl volunteered to join him to spare the others almost a month ago.”

  I groaned. “Say no more.” I raised my voice. “Where are your guns?” I asked.

  “In the cellar, we only have pistols, mister,” Lenny said.

  “Pull out everything worth a damn and get ready to run. I need a rope and something to catch the lip of the windowsill,” I said this last part to everyone.

  “You can climb up the side ladder,” Lenny said. “I tried to check on Trisa that way.”

  “And were you able to spring her free?” I asked.

  “He set traps, so I didn’t risk it after almost getting shot the first time. I could hear her though. She seemed… happy,” Lenny said in confusion. “The shutters aren’t trapped but they’re always locked.”

  “The shutters are open and that is why he asked for rope and a shitty rifle or a mining pick,” Yilissa said.

  “Is there anyone else in the area?” I asked.

  Lenny shrugged.

  Beverly said, “Almost all of these supplies are from a month ago. The shops haven’t been swept or show signs of footprints.”

  “Well, we can hope. Trisa after everyone arms up, and we have all the supplies we can get,” I said.

  Dex, Fen, and Yilissa walked from our huddle spot and to the hunting store. Over the next five minutes they brought out ammunition and firearms. The teenagers stared at their weapons with glee and awe. I did the same thing when Yilissa struggled to carry a box of .50 rifle rounds.

  “Thought you’d like that. He kept it in the back,” Yilissa said.

  Kevin struggled to wheel over the handcart. The damn thing might bust an axle and he used rope to secure the supplies in place. “I found lamps and managed to get them on top, but this pile is going to fall over if we add anything more. Do I have time for medical supplies?”

  “I’ll go with you,” I said.

  Yilissa returned to her perch as I came down. Kevin and I trotted over to Bessy’s Medical.

  “Think we can do a second trip?” Kevin asked.

  “Not sure. I saw a lot of essentials in that pile,” I said.

  “Yeah, we got everything besides food.”

  I grimaced and said, “The barge will change that.”

  “And add so many risks. It’s your call, though. I personally would rather eat narocks than canned fish,” Kevin said.

  “Yeah, but the canned fish is great for storing. I’ll run the risk,” I said.

  I slowed near the store’s entrance, raising Henry like a shotgun. The store’s door was barricaded and untouched. Based on the dark interior I managed to see through shutter slats, no one had busted into this store yet. I ducked into the alley to approach the side window, busting it out with the butt of the rifle.

  “I’ll go. Give me a boost,” I said.

  “You sure… Fen has a med kit on the wagon,” Kevin said skeptically.

  I noticed the locked cellar door.

  “What do we want from here?” I asked.

  “Opium, pure alcohol, and cocaine. Maybe a bone saw and bandages,” Kevin said. I shook my head. “What, they’re all we have in Snagglewood.”

  “Give me a boost,” I said for a second time. He cupped his hand and he hoisted me up. When I peered inside, I said some choice words I normally avoided. The smell certainly didn’t help my souring mood either. “Down.”

  “What is it?”

  “Husband and wife. Looks like they starved, then murder suicide to end the suffering,” I said, heading to the cellar.

  I smacked Henry against the hinges instead of messing with the thick lock. After I busted open the doors we dove into the cellar. The basement room was filled with musty air and boxes of supplies.

  “Grab that one, I’ll get this one. Oh, bandages too. Nice,” Kevin said.

  I stripped off my bag, loading it with bandages before adding in a few glass containers of cough medicine labeled opium. No wonder life expectancy was mid-forties.

  Still, I’d rather have something vital and not use it, then leave it behind.

  We hurried back to the group who stopped looting. Dex and Fen strapped themselves to the wagon like horses. The four teenagers readied to push the back. Yilissa and Cella picked up the hand cart, rolling it forward.

  Kevin replaced Yilissa after precariously adding his supplies to the wagon bench.

  “Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. We move to Hartinger’s place. Keep your eyes open and your head on a swivel. And away we go,” I said.

  Within a minute we rolled down the ruined street. Our group made an odd sight, humans moving as much supplies as they coul
d like common pack animals.

  Fen understood what I wanted to do, guiding the wagon under the windowsill. I climbed up onto the wagon, and noticed the lip had no glass. I risked it, jumping the distance and clutching the sill instead of using rope.

  With all my might, I heaved myself into the upper room.

  When I entered, I almost died from the smell. The small space was mostly clean. However, it was as if a switch flipped. There used to be a dog here. The almost empty food bag rested in the corner…

  The dog, he was skinned at some point, the hide left to dry and used to blot out a window. Both windows had .44s pointing to the openings with strings if the shutters were opened. I ignored it all, seeing small caliber ammo we had plenty of already.

  A piss bucket rested by the table. Based on the stains by the windowsill without the dog hide, it was clear where he tossed his shit. Books littered the table, mostly fiction tales. I tossed a few out the window, hearing protests and asking about Trisa.

  I ignored them, my dragon out and at the ready.

  The dining and living area led to two rooms. In the first room, the interior was meticulous and clean. An older woman stayed laid on a mattress, and she was so old, she was bedridden.

  “Karl, is that you? Oh, Karl my dear boy, give your momma a hug,” the old woman said.

  She was in her eighties or nineties. This moment forced a decision on me that was one of the hardest I’d ever have to make.

  Was a senile, ancient woman who was bedridden, worth saving?

  I didn’t want to make the decision. I couldn’t. We simply didn’t have the ability to make her better. The fact she lived a month into the apocalypse was insane and when I saw dog bones resting beside her bed, I realized part of the how.

  “Mom, I’m going to the store, do you need anything?” I asked.

  She grew confused and I closed the door before she could respond.

  I hurried to the next room. This one was locked from the outside. Triple locked and barred. This actually gave me hope.

  After I undid all the latches, I slowly opened the door with my dragon at the ready.

  “Dear husband, is that you?” a soft voice asked.

  I pushed the door fully open to see a fifteen or sixteen-year-old girl sitting at a study, reading a book.

  “Trisa?” I asked.

  “Who’s you?” she asked in slang.

  “Lenny sent me. Your husband fell out of the -”

  “Oh sweet Mother of Mercy. I’m being rescued?” she asked.

  I hesitated. “You didn’t love him?”

  “Huh, heavens no. We had an agreement. If I was his wife, he’d feed me. So far, he lived up to his end. He fell?” she asked.

  I could see it in her eyes. True pain and disappointment. She wasn’t happy in the slightest that I had barged in on her reading session. This room wasn’t soundproof. No way she didn’t hear the shot that killed her captor.

  I put on a fake smile, “Yeah. It’s time to go.”

  “What about his mother?” Trisa asked

  I left the door open and headed to the window, pretending to ignore her. “Hey Kevin, my wise sage. What do I do with a senile woman, mid-eighties, bedridden?”

  “How is she alive?” Kevin replied with a tilted head and a stupefying look upon his face.

  “Hartinger loved his women. He didn’t care about himself,” I said.

  “And my sister. How about -?”

  Trisa’s steps on her tiptoes creaked the floorboards. She snuck up behind me and tried to steal a dragon off my belt. My elbow lanced out, catching her square in the nose. The young woman stumbled back and fell on her ass.

  Her nose poured blood freely.

  “You killed him!” she said in a nasal tone. “He was the perfect husband, and - and - and you shot him. I see the ceiling. I could hear it drip from my room.”

  I pulled a dragon off my belt and aimed it at her while swinging to get in front of the window.

  “Lenny, there’s something called Stockholm syndrome. Hartinger was good to your sister. He gave her a good life and they bonded. She tried to kill me, for killing him, when he tried to kill us. Sounds complicated, but I don’t know what to do,” I said.

  “Knock her out and shoot the mother for a merciful end. And hurry up because the rest of us need to reach the boat or we all die,” Kevin said.

  I left the windowsill, opened the door to the old woman’s room, and couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. While my back was to Trisa, she leapt out the window.

  Crack!

  The young woman cried out in tremendous pain.

  “By the Great Mother, you idiot Trisa,” Lenny blared.

  I had enough of this festering shithole. I stomped over to the window, hung down from the sill, and dropped down.

  “You didn’t shoot her,” Yilissa said, over the scream of Trisa.

  Trisa’s tibia shot up and out her upper kneecap. I could maybe save it. Maybe. Fen and Dex held her down while Kevin drowned her in opium and liquid cocaine.

  “I can boost you up there if you want to give her a merciful death. I don’t think she can be moved and I’m trying to save the world, not make it worse,” I said.

  Yilissa held up hands defensively, refusing to kill her.

  “I get it. I do. You might need to find your resolve though. Especially with her,” Yilissa said, pointing to Trisa who stared at me as if I were the devil himself. “She wants to kill you and I don’t think we should take her.”

  “We give her a week or two. If she doesn’t drop the hate, we banish her. I will need to study up on the long-term recovery, but in the short term, yeah, under lock and key,” I said.

  The girl convulsed after a few minutes of drugs being forced down her throat, she stilled.

  “She’ll live. I have to use a mallet to return the tibia back to place. Her knee is ruined, best guess: six, maybe eight-month recovery. Two if we amputate,” Kevin said, using his expensive vest to clean the blood off his hands.

  Lenny came over. “Sorry she tried to kill you. That’s not -”

  I held up a hand and put it on the timid kid’s shoulder.

  “None of us are perfect, and we’re all in this shitty situation together,” I told him, shifting to look at Fen. “Stick her on the bench. It's a long and hard run through the city to the docks. No time to slouch and we might have to make a second run, so every second counts.”

  37

  Snagglewood Day 35

  Opo Harbor

  The whole run back I feared the worst. I feared narocks overran the docks, or the Apple was sunk from lobo’narocks. While we hustled, I couldn't help but feel we were being watched too.

  That sixth sense kept the hairs on the back of my neck tingling. We only paused once for a tight turn, taking a much-needed water break. When we resumed, I grew nervous with each step closer to freedom. A wave of joy coursed through me when I could see the final bend and I heard friendly talk.

  When we rounded the corner, Matt and the kids loaded reams of cloth from a handcart onto the ship. I grinned from ear to ear.

  “Alright, just like we planned it,” I said, running ahead of the group.

  My long strides toward the back of the boat were meant to clear the way for the wagon. The hand cart was supposed to roll onto the front while we shifted cargo at the stern. Of course, my euphoria came crashing to a halt.

  Splash!

  Open claws raced out from the murky waters, snipping in an effort to turn me into two halves.

  I slid on my ass, contorting my body to dodge the pincer.

  Clack!

  The snip came so close, it ruptured my eardrum causing blood to flow freely down my cheek. I whipped Henry up, firing into the underbelly of the shell.

  Bang!

  The other claw zoomed down, trying to impale me. I rolled with every bit of my being to avoid being squished. A gush of air mixed with a spray of water.

  Crack!

  The claw burst into the wooden dock, showe
ring me with splinters of ruined wood. I panted in shock, utterly surprised to still be alive.

  Bang! Bang! Snap! Crack!

  Repeated gunfire ripped into the face of the lobo’narock. A lucky, or hell, a well-aimed bullet killed the beast.

  This spelled the end for me. The looming monstrosity collapsed right on top of me with the bottom of the shell engulfing my visions. No amount of rolling or swerving would save me in time and all I could think about was how I’d never make it back to Roma.

  Boom!

  The docks shattered, and for the briefest of moments, the pilings supported the beast as I plunged into the river water below.

  The water ripped me down and away from the docks with a strong current. A swoosh of water from the beast sinking behind me pushed like a wave.

  I swam out to sea and up, fighting the forces that tried to seduce me to the depths. Like hell I would squander this opportunity.

  I had no idea how far I was from the surface. Each second felt like an hour. As I struggled upward, my lungs burned for air.

  As my strength faded, I figured I had just dodged one death to earn another.

  The bright surface water materialized out of the murk, bringing hope.

  Kicking with all my might, I breached the surface, inhaling air to stay alive. While I wanted to shout for help or swim back toward the Apple, I already neared the barges. A set of big eyes appeared from the deeper water, tracking my location.

  After a few deep breaths, I hunkered down and swam with the current, right for a ladder near the barges. A pincer swiped behind me pushing me forward and up.

  At first, I grinned at my luck.

  Not long after, I slammed into the ladder at a speed that winded me.

  A rough coughing wracked my lungs and I forced myself onto the docks. Before I could assess the situation, I pumped my legs into a sprint. Water sloshed out of my boots with each heart pounding step.

  I ran like the devil herself was behind me, for she surely was. I dove behind a pallet just in the nick of time.

  Clack!

  The pincers burst a crate of silks. The sting of splinters racked my body. I reached down to grab a dragon, finding the right holster empty. I reached for the left, clasping an ivory handle.