Darling of Fate: A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure, page 14
When she finished, she looked up at Jerome who waited expectedly. She gave him a nod, and he burst from the safe zone with a wild shout. The shout seemed to echo impossibly, spreading out in a visible shockwave that hit the demons with a physical force. They all stopped what they were doing and cast fearful expressions toward Jerome as he waded into their midst.
To her side, Amos reluctantly stepped from the safe zone and sent his pigeons after the demons. Lacy worried for a moment that the sharp talons of the demons would swipe the birds from the air. But the pigeons moved with an uncanny agility, their beaks pecking at eyes with unerring accuracy.
Frank followed, casting another wave of ice that seemed to bypass Jerome and Amos, only affecting the demons as they tried to recover from Jerome’s shout ability. Byron set his boombox down and joined the melee, using his feet to stomp down on the distracted creatures.
The four men waded amongst the tiny demons, Lacy’s magical armor protecting them from any counterattacks. When the demons realized their claws and teeth were useless against the interlopers, a wild yipping went out from the pack. As if that was a signal to retreat, they all turned and fled.
Byron was the first to react to the rout, letting out a whoop and turning to high-five Jerome. When Jerome left him hanging, he turned to Frank, who returned the gesture with a smile. Amos had his hands on his knees, huffing heavily despite the fight lasting less than a minute.
Despite the warm feeling filling her at their victory, Lacy felt a tinge of concern as she saw Dirk under where the demons had been a moment before. His red cape covered him entirely, forming a man-sized lump beneath. The obvious signs of blood seeping through the cloth made Lacy wonder if they had been too late. The six of them stood there unmoving, a tense atmosphere taking over.
Then, the cloth stirred. Lacy felt a gasp leave her as she watched the cape unfurl like a flower in bloom. Beneath was that familiar figure, and despite the blood and sweat coating his body, she couldn’t help but admire the obvious strength in his limbs. His eyes were closed, a peaceful expression on his face like he were deep in sleep. Before, his face had been all hard angles and fiery anger. But in unconsciousness, she saw a softer side to him.
Jerome placed a boot in his ribs none too gently. “You dead, boy?”
The man groaned, stirring slightly.
“Turn him over, dear,” Mama G said as she walked over. “My treat will help.”
Jerome and Byron turned him and pulled him into a sit. Mama G placed one of her cookies in his mouth and forced him to chew. Dirk coughed, bits of cookie flying out explosively.
“Ugh! He got it right in my eye!” Byron shouted.
Lacy snorted. “Man up, Byron.”
He cast her a puppy dog look and she rolled her eyes, but added a smile so as to not hurt his feelings too bad.
When Dirk finally opened his eyes a few minutes later, a tension she hadn’t known she’d been holding drained from her body.
The goose honked right in his ear, causing him to flinch away with a groan.
“You’re alive!” the goose said.
Dirk looked around with a hazy expression, his eyes just coming into focus.
“You—you saved me?” he asked the goose.
“Not me. I ran to get help. They saved you.”
With Dirk safe, she allowed some of her annoyance to return at the way he had talked to them. “Only cause the goose was crying,” she said, forcing a scowl to let him know her feelings. But inside, she felt her stomach flip as his piercing eyes locked onto her.
She turned away, not confident she could maintain an appropriately icy demeanor under that gaze. But secretly, she was excited at the idea of having the man rejoin the group—after an appropriate amount of time to realize what an asshole he had been that is…
Chapter 19
Reluctant Flyer
This was exactly what I fucking needed.
There were no thoughts—just impressions. Bloody knuckles bashing against a stone face. Scrabbling claws trying to find purchase past magical red cloth. A boot smashing down over and over…
The impotent rage of a wasted decade fueled my limbs as I waded into the throng of imps without a weapon. Dozens of them blocked the door to the safe zone physically with their bodies. I’d have to break them to escape. Their skin was tough, their teeth sharp. But my knuckles pounded until that tough skin cracked. My Mantle flared, absorbing their attacks.
I was more animal than they were, a fearless giant wading amongst deadly children.
But there were too many of them. Their claws and teeth scored cuts, the weight of their bodies pinning me down. My Mantle surrounded me instinctively, like a dog trying to protect its owner. They slid off as they moshed me, but the sheer number of them was enough to keep me pinned as they searched for a gap in my Mantle—like trying to pry open a crab’s shell.
Lex’s presence grew dimmer, fading as he fled.
Good. Better I die than both of us. I’d never asked anyone to die with me—not that the goose could do much anyway.
In the pained haze, a distant memory rose unbidden, clear as day, like I was reliving it.
Not sure how old I was—eleven or twelve, probably. Before I’d hit my first growth spurt, for sure. Walking home after school, I’d heard a pitiful sound as I passed by an alley. When I’d peered in, there were three older boys smacking the shit out of a kid in my class. His glasses lay on the ground, shattered glass crunching underfoot. Bright red marks marred his face. I didn’t hang out with the kid—couldn’t even tell you his name. But I’d bull-rushed the nearest bully without a second thought, taking him by surprise as we both hit the dirty alley ground.
Before anyone could react, I’d smashed his nose with a couple of sloppy punches, forcing him into a ball. One of the other boys finally reacted, tackling me off his buddy. We wrestled for a moment, neither getting the upper hand until the third boy blindsided me with a punch to my ear.
As the three of them kicked the shit out of me, I briefly opened my eyes to see that kid in my class watching from the alley mouth. He lingered—just a moment—before grabbing his backpack and taking off at a sprint.
He’s getting help, I told myself. He’ll be back in a minute. But help never came and never would. The only person you could count on was yourself.
It wasn’t until one of the boys broke his fist on the back of my head that they finally relented. When I limped back to the trailer park an hour later, my father watched me enter the trailer with a sneer.
“Pussy.”
My mind stewed in that memory as the imps pinned me to the ground. After an eternity, the weight crushing down on me eased. The sound of scrabbling claws and gnashing teeth abated.
They were regrouping, looking for a weak spot in my Mantle. My limbs were too drained to react to the opening. Laying there in a sweaty, bloody heap, I waited to die.
Something prodded me in the side, something that was distinctly not a clawed hand. A boot, maybe? Were those three kids back for more? I wondered.
“You dead, boy?”
Dad? I tried to say, but it came out more like, “Unnhg.”
That same voice grunted in reply.
“Turn him over, dear. My treat will help.”
Something was shoved into my mouth, and I tried to spit it out. Hands gripped my jaw none-too-gently and forced my teeth to gnash. Even in my current state, I noted that the flavor was delightful.
My throat caught, and I choked on the treat, bits of chocolate and cookie projecting out of my mouth in an explosion of spit and half-chewed delectable.
“Ugh! He got it right in my eye!”
“Man up, Byron.”
Warmth filled my throat, spreading down into my gut. It swirled there for a moment, then slowly began to travel down my limbs into my fingers and toes. The warmth seemed to attack the pain, pushing it out and away, reinvigorating my body.
Within minutes, I felt strong enough to sit up. As I opened my eyes, I saw Lex’s face staring back at me.
“HONK!”
“Ah, Jesus!” I flinched away as he nuzzled up against me.
“You’re alive!”
“You—You saved me?” I asked Lex. Reaching over, I pet him on his neck. My thoughts were sluggish, slow to process what exactly had just happened.
“Not me,” Lex said. “I ran to get help. They saved you.”
My eyes tracked over the unimpressed expressions on the faces looking down on me.
“Only because the goose was crying,” Lacy said, scowling.
Without another word, they all turned to leave. Frank lingered a moment longer than the rest, then shrugged.
“Wh—where you guys going?” I asked.
“We saved you. Doesn’t mean we forgot your words, boy,” Mama G called over her shoulder.
“Hey!” I called and they stopped to look back at me. Suddenly, I felt self-conscious about the way I’d acted and struggled to my feet to buy me time to compose myself. Blood oozed down my body, but I felt that most of the wounds were superficial. “Listen, guys,” I started, looking off to the side. “I-I’m sorry. Thanks for coming to save me…”
Frank and Lacy exchanged surprised looks, while Byron had a wide, shit-eating grin on his face. Jerome and Mama G looked skeptical. Amos just looked drunk.
“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Mama G said. Then they were gone, back through the amber forcefield and into my Personal Space.
“Damn,” I said softly. “Can’t go a single day without alienating everyone around me.”
“I’m still here,” Lex said, nuzzling against me still. “Though, that’s because we are literally bonded metaphysically, and to leave you would cause me permanent and painful mental scarring that—”
“I get it, Lex.” I chuckled, wrapping an arm around him. “Thanks for saving me, even if it was a metaphysically-contractual obligation.”
“Oh, that feeling! What is that feeling…?”
“Gratitude.”
“Ah hah! Gratitude! I’m enjoying that one. You should experience it more often.”
I snorted. “So I’ve been told.” Slowly, I levered myself up to my feet. Magical cookie or not, everything hurt still, and I was forced to move gingerly. A flap of feathers and Lex’s weight rested on my shoulder. “Oi, what are you doing?”
“My little webbed feet are tired, Dirk.”
“I just got the piss kicked out of me, but your little feet are tired? Why couldn’t you be a horse or something?” I asked, looking at him perched on my shoulder, far too large for that to be comfortable for me—even if I did have devilishly broad shoulders.
“Saving your life is tiring work.”
We locked eyes, my mouth hanging open in shock.
“Did you—was that your first intentional joke?” I shouted.
His shock hit me through the bond just as his wings hit me in the face. I spluttered as I got a wing-full of goose feathers in my mouth.
“Oh, Heavens! You’re right! That was an intentional joke! That was funny! I’m funny!” He launched from my shoulder, flying over my head in a frantic, happy circle.
“Whoa, for some reason, it never occurred to me that you could fly,” I said stupidly. “That’ll be really useful for scouting.”
“HONK! I’m not really a scouting type of companion. I’m more of a brains behind the operation companion, I think,” he said, doing another circle above before landing back on my shoulder, smacking me in the face once more for good measure. “Though, I suppose my inherent companion ability is pretty scouty if I wasn’t so adamantly against the idea of scouting.”
“You have an ability? That’s awesome! What is it?”
He shrugged his wings casually. “Oh, I can project what I’m seeing and hearing through the bond. Too bad I’m not really scout material—”
“What?” I interrupted. “That’s literally the best scouting ability ever! You are so becoming my scout!”
He groaned. “I never know when to keep my beak shut,” he muttered.
Grinning, I slapped him on the back. “And that’s what I love about you.”
I felt a warmth fill him at that statement, and I decided not to correct or amend myself. Give the guy that much, Dirk. He did just save your ass.
Changing the subject, I said, “So, I’m getting the impression I won’t be borrowing Jerome’s shanks anymore. Might be time to get my own weapons.”
I felt Lex nod. “That would be an accurate impression. When I implored them to save you, they were quite reticent.”
Sighing, I said, “That doesn’t surprise me. I said some dickish things earlier.”
“Did it have something to do with using your last redo?”
“Something like that,” I agreed. “Let’s not talk about that right now, if you don’t mind.”
“Okay, Dirk,” he said with a flap of his wings. “Weapons, then?”
I nodded. “Weapons.”
Turning in a circle, I scanned the street we were on. Whatever my party had done, they had scared off the imps, and there was no sign of movement anywhere. “Good thing about those imps you sent after us—seems like no one had any time to loot anything. We were too busy dying.”
“I thought we were avoiding talking about each other’s personal failures, Dirk,” he said pointedly.
I held up my hands innocently. “Whoa, buddy, I wasn’t trying to make a personal dig. What I’m saying is, the stores should be ripe for the taking. Including the gun stores.” Then a thought hit me. “Wait, I forgot to ask. Will guns even be useful on these floors or whatever?”
“Sure, initially, at least. But there’s a strict carryover policy when entering the Tower for the first time. You can only bring in a certain number of items—and only what you can physically carry. It depends on what the new Guide decides.”
I could feel his embarrassment and shame with those words, so I tried to keep the conversation flowing to get his mind off of it.
“What do you mean, initially?”
He perked up at the chance to explain further.
“Most mobs—and even your fellow Climbers—will eventually become resistant to simple kinetic force. The weapons you find on the planet’s surface will have diminishing returns rather quickly. From that point on, only gear bought in the Staging Area or looted in the Tower will suffice.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up. Are you saying monsters… and people, will become immune to bullets?”
“Immune? Not for a while. But your own class will unlock defensive—” He cut off, his eyes closing painfully. “Ahem, can’t talk specifics. But there will be magical shields, projectile magnets, reflectors, phase shifting, and so on. Then there are stat points to consider. I don’t have the hard numbers, but an Endurance of around 100 would probably reduce an Earth bullet’s penetration by about 75%. An Agility of the same would allow you to dodge semi-automatic fire most of the time. An equal amount of Perception would let the individual intuit when and where the bullet would travel—you get the picture.”
My mind was racing at the implications of what he had just said. You mean I could dodge bullets? Oh, I was totally gonna get to live my Neo cosplay from The Matrix.
“You just made my Apocalypse, Lex,” I said cheerily.
“Oh! Happy to help!”
“Sounds like guns are still a solid choice for now, then,” I said, scanning the surrounding area. “What I really need is a map or…”
Looking at the goose on my shoulder, I smiled.
He looked back at me. Feeling my amusement, his goose eyes narrowed. “What’s so funny? I haven’t said something else humorous by mistake…” he trailed off, realizing what I was implying. “You want me to scout, don’t you…”
A beaming smile filled my face.
“HONK!”
With Lex’s ability, and a bit of concentration, I could feel his senses like they were my own.
And he was scared shitless.
“IDON’TLIKETHIS!IDON’TLIKETHIS!IDON’TLIKETHIS!” he screamed to himself as he flew over the city streets.
I did my best to send him calming vibes as he flew, but his panic was all-encompassing. At one point, he closed his eyes as he was flying, and I had to force my displeasure through the bond until he opened his eyes again.
Worst. Scout. Ever…
It was strange looking through his eyes, and I had a tough time picking out details in the streets below. But I mentally directed him towards large landmarks that I recognized, and when he passed over the giant scorch mark where I had toasted those imps what felt like a year ago, I finally knew where he was.
Mentally, I urged him south. I vaguely recalled driving past a Walmart in that direction a while back. They should have everything I needed.
When Lex finally spotted the Walmart, I directed him to look inside. I didn’t want to make the trip if it had already been gutted. Distantly, I felt his reluctance as he pushed back against me.
God dammit, Lex. You’re the scout, so go scout!
After some further prodding, he finally relented, landing in front of the automatic sliding doors leading inside. Surprisingly, they still retracted all on their own. He waddled through, his eyes scanning frantically left and right, his anxiety peaking. Once he was past the entrance, he took flight, low enough to stick within the aisles but not so low that any errant imps could reach him.
I tried my best to give him mental directions, urging him positively when he went in the correct direction and negatively when he went in the wrong direction.
He was nearing the back of the store where the guns would be, and I felt his anxiety start to drain away once he realized nothing bad was happening.
And, of course, shit immediately hit the fan.
As he passed the end of an aisle, something fast swung towards him in the peripheral of his vision. He had no time to dodge as it impacted him in the face, knocking him out of the air.
“Lex!” I shouted fruitlessly to the air.
