by Wolfe Locke
They all reacted with shock. One of the older crusaders slammed a fist down and shouted, “This is war!”.
“Hold on one second. Can you tell us what type they were?” Edgar said. “What happened, exactly?”
“A centaur, a satyr, and an octopus-thing. They were trying to get into Live, Laugh, Love. They kept talking about how they wanted to make a home there. They were really pissed about the Republic of Dan and seemed to think that they should have something like that, that they were being cheated of something.”
Chapter Eighteen: The Unspoken War
* * *
James looked at Edgar. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
“You know about this?” I asked. I was picking up on something going on that they hadn’t told me.
Edgar sighed. “Some demi-humans... I don’t know. They’re sort of edgy. They have a hard time here on Earth, and I get it. I mean, the war too. But sometimes I think…” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Look, a lot of them are elite soldiers. They’re bored. They’re picking fights, killing things, making people’s lives miserable just because it gives them something to do. They’re always looking for any excuse whatsoever to hone their skills. They just want it to be your fault when they do it.”
“And you didn’t think to warn me?”
“We didn’t know there were any around here,” he said as he shrugged. “They don’t like to come around us.”
“Maybe we can work with them,” James suggested. “Some of us share the same goals. We have different skills, different strengths.”
“Maybe,” Edgar said. He sounded skeptical.
Something occurred to me. “You said they have a hard time here on Earth. Are they not from here?”
“Do you remember seeing a ton of demi-humans in your previous life?” James asked, staring me down as if I’d just asked a very stupid question.
He got me there. I looked away, nodding.“Good point.”
“Actually,” Edgar said, grinning, “None of us are from Earth. Not the demi-humans nor the Crusaders.”
“Wait!” I said, looking around with wide eyes. “Who are you? Aliens, or—”
“No, no, nothing like that,” James said, waving away my worries. “And, to be clear, some of us are from here. Take me, for example. The story I told you was true. I was a treehouse hobbyist. I was lucky enough to fall in with the Crusaders, though. We share a common goal, and I think it’s a good one.”
I leaned back in my chair. Interesting plot twist.
Whatever the Crusaders were up to, I wasn’t sure I was into it. Aliens or otherwise, I didn’t like the thought of creatures from another world trying to fix whatever they thought was going on here on Earth.
“Okay,” I muttered cautiously. “Well, whoever you are, you’re here now. And you seem to be on the right side, yeah?”
“Yes,” Edgar said firmly, his conviction absolute. “We want to prevent the end of the world.”
“Then we’re on the same page. Everything’s good.” I shrugged, although internally, I was measuring up every last one of them.
He looked at me as if he didn’t fully trust me. “Great.”
We sat around for a while in silence, eating leftover Hamburger King. I looked over at the wall again. It was genuinely really impressive.
“I have another mission for you,” Edgar said, looking at the wall as well. “Think of it as a follow-up quest since your trip outside the camp went so well last time.”
It hadn’t gone that well, but I’d never turn down a compliment.
He took a deep breath, his jaw tensing.“We need you to go talk to the prophet.”
“The prophet?” It took a second to process, but then the questions streamed out relentlessly. “Like, an oracle or a seer? Can they see the future? Do they speak to your gods?”
He glared at me as I barraged him with my questions, only answering once I stayed quiet for more than five seconds. “The prophet is our anointed spiritual leader. We need guidance from him now. He can tell us what to do next. He can guide you on the path forward.”
“Okay.” Anointed spiritual leader. Sounds kind of like he’s some tribal shaman.
The Crusaders felt more like a cult the more time I spent with them. What kind of military operation took their orders from some kind of guru? But that was how this world worked. None of it really made any sense.
Edgar crossed his arms. “You’ll leave—”
I knew where this was going.
“—at first light,” we said at the same time. I sighed. Edgar was pretty predictable.
He scowled. “Hear me now, Dan. You had better make sure it’s actually at first light this time. You’ve got a long way to go, and the prophet doesn’t tolerate tardiness. The new system should be up when you get back, you should be able to interface then. So…. no need for any last minute excuses to drag your feet in the morning.”
With that, he headed over to the other Crusader officers, leaving me alone with the other recruits.
“Well, I thought your trip was impressive,” Ashley said. “Even if we are already out of food again.”
“Thanks, Ash,” I mutter. She perked up at the nickname, grinning softly. “I’ll try and get more food when I’m out tomorrow. If I can find it.”
Bjorn took a big slurp of his milkshake, belching loudly. “I love this crazy American food. I could eat it all day. I can see how you all get so fat. More like this, please!”
“Blech,” Ashley gagged. “Literally anything but this stuff, please.”
“What about you, Eric? Do you want to be the tiebreaker?” I casually tossed out.
To be honest, I didn’t really feel like being anyone’s on-demand delivery guy. But it was something to talk about.
“Um,” Eric muttered, squinting. He thought about it so long, I thought steam would come pouring out of his ears.. “I guess I don’t care. It’s free food, right? We can’t be too picky.”
I always knew I liked him.
“I’ll try to do both, if I can,” I said, committing to nothing. “I don’t really know what I’ll find out there. Maybe Edgar can find someone else to go back to the Hamburger King? Am I really the only one who can do it?”
They shrugged.
“Who knows?” Bjorn asked rhetorically.
He made a fair point. How were we supposed to know the rules? We’d been thrust into this situation totally at random. I thought about asking Lirai but decided not to bother. I was sure Edgar would tell us the rules soon enough.
We all went our separate ways. I went to my room, and the other recruits returned to one of the houses they’d cleared out. I had a little bag of leftover food with me for breakfast the next morning. It might be the last food I got for a while, but at least it was better than chocolate. After eating the same leftover candy bar for days, I was sick of it.
“Napoleon?” I asked, peeking under the bed again. “Want to come out? I saved you some fries.”
He was still curled up in a ball, pressed as tight to the wall as he could get. I shook the fries at him, just in case the smell got him going. No response. Hoping he’d feel better in the morning, I set the fries on the floor next to the bed and went to sleep.
Chapter Nineteen: The Infestation
* * *
When I woke up the next morning, Napoleon had come out from under the bed and was curled up by my feet, snoring. When I moved my leg, he woke up and grumbled at me.
“Alright, buddy!” I greeted the pitiful creature. “Feeling better?”
He burped, then hopped off the bed and toddled over to the door. The container of fries I’d left out for him the night before was empty, but he still looked hungry. As always, a bottomless stomach.
I sat up, groaning. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and I still wasn’t used to getting up this early. I wondered if this was what life in the Crusaders was going to be like forever. Maybe I could quit.
“Dan!” a voice bellowed from outside the window. “It’s first light! Ti
me to go.”
Ugh. Of course it was Edgar. He’d probably been up for hours, worked out, and spent some fulfilling time pursuing his hobbies... whatever they were. It seemed like he’d be really into basket-weaving or crocheting, something time consuming but utterly useless.
“I’m coming,” I shouted back, wishing he’d give me more than half a second to do what I needed to. “One second.”
The bag of leftover Hamburger King was still sitting by the door to the room, and Napoleon was nosing around it curiously.
“That’s mine,” I said, pulling out a congealed, room-temperature burger. “Eh. Could be worse. Bottoms up.”
It wasn’t good. In fact, it was quite disgusting, but it was all I had. At least, it was all I had for now.
“Dan!” Edgar shouted, his tone impatient. “Come on!”
“Is there any reason this has to be at first light? Does the prophet evaporate if I show up too late or something?”
No reply. Typical Edgar. I threw on my uniform, grabbed my bat, and headed outside. Napoleon followed as fast as he could, growling. I’d have to get him something to eat soon or he’d be mad all day.
“Recruit,” Edgar said when he saw me. “Glad to see you’re up. I’ve got something for you.”
“Something” turned out to be an arcane-looking map, covered in grease marks and cigarette burns. He handed it to me, and I held it gingerly between a thumb and a forefinger. It looked, smelled, and felt dirty.
“This will show you the way to the prophet,” he said, looking grave. “Follow the path on the map. I feel like I shouldn’t have to emphasize this, but do not, under any circumstances, deviate.”
I looked at it. It showed the Republic of Dan and its surrounding suburbs. A thin dotted line snaked through the houses and ended at a Hastings Bookstore downtown, it was a few hours away walking. I knew that store. I’d walked past it a few times, but I’d never been inside. I’m not really a “book” kind of guy and it wasn’t really a book store that seemed like it drew business.
“How old is this map?” I asked, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “Hasn’t the Apocalypse only been going for a few weeks?”
He shrugged. Classic Edgar. He was full of input when you didn’t want it, but he had no answers when you did. Whatever. I packed the map into my backpack. I knew how to get to Hastings without it.
“You’ll probably run into some ugly creatures on the road,” he warned. “Especially, once you get downtown, so you’d better be ready for it.”
I grinned. At this point, I was getting confident I could handle whatever this world threw at me. Plus, I had Napoleon. Better yet, I had a hungry Napoleon.
“Where are the other recruits?” I asked, looking around. “Can I say goodbye?”
“They’re still asleep.”
Wait. So was I the only one who kept having to get up at “first light”? It was starting to feel like Edgar was specifically torturing me.
I set Napoleon on my shoulder, and we set off, walking in the opposite direction from the way we’d gone last time. The scenery was still just as depressing as the last trip, though. Whatever you could say for the post-Apocalypse world, you couldn’t deny that it was ugly. I kept my eyes out for monsters, both for myself and for my little guy. I knew he was hungry, but I was also in a terrible mood and spoiling for a fight.
As we got further from the Republic, the buildings started to get higher, and I found what I was looking for. Three Satyrs were rooting around in the dumpster behind a convenience store. The interior of the store was totally destroyed. The shelves were all turned over, and there was garbage everywhere. The windows were shattered. There was broken glass all over the parking lot. It was perfect.
“You ready, Napoleon?” I asked, setting him on the ground next to me. “Time for a fight?”
He growled, and the Satyrs all looked up at once. They were hideous, with snarling animal faces, burly human torsos, and goat-like hind legs. They smelled awful, like a barnyard mixed with vomit. One of them bleated at me and pawed at the ground with a yellow hoof, and I raised my bat in readiness.
I looked down, but Napoleon was already gone. He sprinted toward the nearest Satyr, mouth wide open. It stared at him, trying to figure out what was happening, but it was already too late. He chomped down on its hoof with his razor-sharp teeth and started eating. It bellowed with rage and pain, trying to shake him free.
But he kept going.
“Good boy, Napoleon!” I shouted, satisfied that he was going to be fine. I turned to the other two Satyrs. They’d jumped out of the dumpster now and were rushing toward me, hooves clacking like high heels on the pavement. Both of them were covered in garbage. One of them had what looked like the remnants of a strawberry milkshake smeared all over his chest.
I started moving leftward, trying to get the two creatures to separate. They didn’t look particularly smart. However, my efforts were futile. The both of them turned toward me, their goat-like eyes blazing.
“Fine,” I said. “Suit yourself. Guess I’ll just take both of you on at once.”
I sounded more confident than I felt. Facing two reeking Satyrs at once didn’t exactly sound like a great time. Not to mention, my Mimic friend was only halfway through eating his half-goat snack, so he wouldn’t be much help.
The first one reached me, head lowered to charge. I countered with my bat, and it hit one of the Satyr’s horns, sounding like I’d just whacked the crap out of a baseball. A piece of the horn flew off and landed inside the store, and I almost giggled. I’d always wanted to be athletic.
The Satyr was pissed, though. He bellowed and rushed toward me, practically beating his chest like King Kong. Even worse, his buddy was next to him. They had me surrounded, and these guys looked pretty high level. Their muscles rippled under a layer of wiry goat hair.
I raised Lil’ Batty high, ready to beat on some monsters... and the closest Satyr grabbed the end of the bat in one meaty fist.
Shit.
He ripped it out of my hand and threw it aside. It clanked sadly as it hit the asphalt and rolled away.
Double shit!
The two Satyrs advanced on me, snarling. Their breath reeked so bad. But, then again, everything about them reeked. Satyrs are disgusting creatures.
Outside of their awful stench, I had to get moving or they were going to rip me apart, limb by limb.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
Suddenly, I felt someone tug on the leg of my uniform pants. When I looked down, I saw my trusty mimic. Napoleon had finished the first Satyr, and his belly was full of goat meat.
Luckily, he was still hungry for more.
The rest of the fight was a bloodbath. Napoleon knew he didn’t get his food until both Satyrs were dead. He sprinted up the first creature’s chest and buried his needle teeth in its neck, and it shrieked in pain. It dropped to its knees, clutching its throat. Napoleon jumped over to the other one as I retrieved my bat, bashing the dying Satyr’s head in. Classy, I know, but all’s fair in love and war.
I was covered in vile-looking Satyr blood by the time we were through. Napoleon wanted to finish his breakfast, and I waited around for him to be done. He was quick about it, swallowing them down faster than I’d seen him ever before. It seems he knew we had to get going.
“Have I ever mentioned how glad I am that you’re on my side instead of against me?” I asked, smiling toward the mimic. “That was ruthless work. Good job!”
He burped and climbed nonchalantly back up onto my shoulder. I got the feeling that if he ever decided to turn on me, he’d eat me just as easily as he’d eaten the Satyrs. It was better to stay on his good side.
We hit a few more Satyrs on the way into the city, but were able to either avoid them or take them out pretty easily. I took a moment to appreciate how far I’d come. I was still overweight, but I’d slimmed down, and I was getting pretty good at fighting. I might still be way weaker than the other recruits, but I was coming along. And I was the one who kept getting assig
ned all the quests. That had to count for something, right? Right?
Around noon, we hit the first skyscrapers. They were all abandoned office towers with shattered windows and looted interiors. For some reason, there was a pile of smashed printers and other office appliances outside the door of almost every building. Some people really hated their jobs.
We started running into a new set of monsters here. They were little red devils that appeared out of nowhere and did a little butt-shaking dance. They didn’t seem too dangerous, but they creeped me out.