Memory Logged, Dream:

If I don’t get to the cockpit immediately, and space these suckers via the vac, we’re all done for. Even if I do, I have to make sure I get all of them. Just a single one seems to be able to exponentially multiply. Friggin’ horrific. Worse, well, yeah, it’s gruesome.

I nearly trip over what looks to be Joshua, until I realize it’s only his leg. The right one by the looks of it, his good leg. I hurp, barely preventing myself from vomiting. I can’t attract them to the scent of fear or rot. I have to get rid of them while they’re all still in the cargo hold. So much for our run. One last job indeed. Just not the way we intended. Poor Josh. I hope the rest of him is in one piece somewhere on board. Grim thought, but a shred of hope.

Hell in a handbasket, I thought they were all in the cargo bay. I’m truly, well, and utterly, boned. There’s a small swarm of them between me and the control panels, hell, between me and the door to the cockpit even.

Could I maybe survive a mad dash through them, then seal the door behind me? It still wouldn’t get rid of this swarm though. They begin their terrifying morphing, sounds of flesh and tissue ripping fill the air in a sickening manner. If I’m going to do this, I need to do it now, while they’re in the middle of that.

I’ve just had a very stupid idea. It might work though. I pop the switch on my pressure shield, donning it despite not needing the oh two right now. This is going to ruin my suit, and may hurt, but there isn’t enough accelerant to fill the whole hallway in this junction box. Once I break it, the auto repair will prevent any more fluid from generating and reaching this point. I smash my fist into the conduit repeatedly, and sure enough, the ell eye three aych two ess oh four mark five fluid sprays viscerally outwards, coating me head to toe, just barely enough for most of my body.

I caught Phil smoking so many times, I confiscated his matches every time. I still have a book on me from the last time. Who knew his smoking might save all our lives? I strike half the pack of matches and let them drop all over me as the creatures close in. There’s a terrible shrieking noise as they recoil, still not entirely finished with their transformation.

If I wasn’t worried that the accelerant would burn up before I made it to the cockpit, I might try to take a few of these things out by hugging the bastards. Oh no, I’m going to have to. There are some in the ‘pit. Friggin’ heck.

I gaze down at my only accolade from my time in service to G-con Three, the short plasma blade that we used instead of sidearms. It was supposed to be deactivated when I left the service. No more psych should be able to flow into it. But, well, I’ve been tinkering. No better time than now to give it a try, right? So here’s me, a literally flaming idiot, charging into a swarm of the ‘morphs, wielding a long-dead plasma blade, hoping my psi kicks in in time to turn the friggin’ thing on. Captain owes me so much time off. If, if she’s still alive. Hell. It was an honor Cap.

I make my mad dash through the still-changing morphs, swinging the useless hunk of plastimetal wildly, begging all the stars for enough luck that my psi reconnects with the thing and juices it back up. Just a few dozen meters. Just, just a bit more. Please activate. Please.

I blink rapidly and stretch all my facial muscles, trying to shake the sleep off. Who the what now? I think, I think maybe I was dreaming. Eh, that’s not unusual. At least I’m fairly certain dreaming while sleeping is a normal thing in any world. Maybe. It’s so hard to gauge.

We spend several days, perhaps weeks, just fishing alongside our pond, not daring to enter it again. We always end our days cuddled up in our little leaf-leather tent, amassing thousands of fish meals over the brief period. I bed down once again, knowing we’ll be ready to journey tomorrow or the day after.

Memory Logged, Dream:

When all else fails, y’can always count on ol’ Jess to do ‘is part. McShaw’s never missed a shot they say. I call bull, since I knew ‘im since he was a kid. Still, he’s mighty impressive at any range, with any weapon he lays hands on. We’ve had more than a spot of trouble lately, lotsa hurt, lotsa death. McShaw farm is gone, burnt to cinders. Jess aint said one word about it. Just picked up irons and took up a spot just outside town. Them weird varmints aint been making their way back into town since he returned. Crazy bug lookin’ things spittin’ goop that starts fire all over the place.

Poor Jess, his little sis was the light of his life. I’m sure he’s cursin’ himself for not getting back a single day sooner, hell, hours. Drafted. Drafted into a war he hates over ideals he disagrees with. Yet there he was, protecting us all. Nothing but honor in that lad. Always has been. Jessie and Jessie McShaw, the two shining jewels of our crap town, now the younger twin’s gone, and the elder gone mad with grief. Would that I could do anything, any single thing for the boy, I would. But an old man knows his limits. Then again, aint I had a long life? Aint seen Jess come into town for supplies, nothin’, not food, not ammo. I’ll round up what I can. Leastwise if I end up buying the farm on the way out to our boy, he’ll have some supplies close at hand.

Just going to be nicking this right now, Audrey won’t mind it missing, ‘specially once she realizes who it’s for. We’ve ran the shop together long enough, she can comp a few bullets, or cases. Huff, still got some strength in these old arms. Let’s put ‘em to use. As I ‘spected, people seeing me gathering and nicking start piling out odds and ends for me to take. They know it’s for Jess. I only grab vittles and ammo though. Jess don’t need money no how, and neither do I.

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Surprised I’m the first one to think of gettin’ things out to our lad. Under this hot sun, best bring an entire barrel o’ water. Hup. Yep, still strength in these old arms. Lash this onto my back. So many years ago now, since I was a carnie. Strongman Arnie the Carnie. I thought the emcee was clever enough at least. Kids ‘round these parts think it’s an insult to tease me with when they don’t get their way. Jokes on the little punks. I’m proud I been a carnie. Maybe shoulda kept up with lifting though, phew.

Gettin’ hard to haul this much poundage around. Just a straight shot though to the hill I last heard gunfire from. We’re set up in our gorge, only one way in or out, and Jess is blocking the choke-point. So ya can stop quivering now, y’hear? Darn knees. Our boy aint letting nothing slip by. Wait, that sound. Them’s irons what’re empty. Click, click, click. Hold on lad, I’m comin’!

Why can’t I move? What’s this through my--? Oh, that’s a lot of blood. One of ‘em is some kinda burrower, snuck up on me from underneath. Got real sharp claws, long as swords. Naw Jess, ya can’t hit ‘em with your irons, just, just come get the ammo. It’s right here. I, I’m sorry I couldn’t get it to you. I curse my muteness, can’t even shout to the boy. Can’t tell him I’m pinned and dyin’. Can’t tell him I got him ammo just a few yards away. Is that a sand dune closing in? I gurgle what noise I can through the blood, tryin’ to warn ‘im.

As the sand dune rises up, I realize what it is. Them varmints have some sorta king or queen, big as houses. And there’s Jess with empty irons. One way or another, looks like it’s the end for Malta Rocha and her people. Now I’m like Jess, cursing myself for not acting just a smidge earlier. I grab sticks, all the tri-nitro we got, light ‘em up, and toss the whole lot down the hill past Jess. He finally notices me when the red goes sailing, sizzling as it does. Them’ll cave in the entire route outta the canyon, but hopefully end that giant beastie. Town’s done for either way.

Naw lad, don’t look so sad. Jus’ come get yer bullets. Finish off this critter what’s got me run through. Ya can probably scrabble out over the rubble after the bang, make a life somewhere else. Y’earned it son.

On the last day before we agreed to set out, I slowly awaken, saying, “Oh, hey, good morning partner.” I find myself smiling into Lil’s exuberant face as I greet them, and the day.

Lil’s eyes veritably sparkle as they gaze back at me with an open-mouthed smile, “Hiya pal, good morning too!”

Lil is a bit more chipper and energetic in the morning than I can muster, as I’m still bemused by my curious dreams. We decide to do one last spot of fishing, but carefully, from the shore, before heading south along the river.

Rather suddenly, Lil asks, “What’ll we do if there’s no one else?”

Lil’s question came out of nowhere, so I’m a bit flummoxed, barely able to respond, “Huh?”

“You said you want community, right?” Lil tries to explain what they meant by their question.

I have to pause for a moment. I find myself placing my thumb along my jaw and index finger under my chin. I even stop walking as I ponder, “Yeah, I guess I just worry that we would feel alone together, and we’d never really make progress towards a sustainable life that doesn’t depend on magically respawning fish.”

Lil gasps, mouth agape. Lil then exclaims in almost comically tragic fashion, “Oh if they stopped respawning that would be awful!”

“Tell me about it, but in case something like that could happen, I’d want to prepare against it. I’d like to start some small farm or something. It’d be funny if we could grow meat bushes or something.” I laugh at the idea of planting a haunch of meat in a tilled field, for it to sprout into a respawning meat bush.

Lil however, is entranced by the idea, “Ooo, do you think that’s really a thing?”

I bite my lips, pursing them, trying not to laugh at Lil’s expense, “I honestly have no idea anymore. What I thought I knew tends to be wrong a lot.”

We talk as we walk, our banter mostly lighthearted. I’m so grateful for Lil to have found me. I barely realized how lonely I truly was. I don’t want to go back to being alone now. Casually walking along the west bank of the riverside, we rest in a tent that I prop up against a tree whenever we get tired, snoozing whenever the mood strikes us. I don’t even bother keeping track of the days. Eventually the river speeds up, becoming rapids. The river at this segment of the journey looks incredibly dangerous, all sharp rocks and crashing foam.

We have probably grown complacent, seeing almost no creatures save the occasional fish, which, of course, we would spear or snipe with fire. This complacency almost spells the end for us. Suddenly, crashing through the trees, sounding loud cracks and slams as it batters its way through the forest, a great bear-like creature appears. Its fur seems odd however, feathered, and I’d swear its maw is more of a beak.

I’d like to say I’m putting up a good fight, but its first mighty swing on approach batted me away into the air, and into the rapids. As I’m battered across rocks, flailing to keep afloat, I wrap my arms around where the next rock will be. Then I materialize my walking stick from my inventory on the other side of it, clasped in my hands. This swings me around the rock wildly, but at least I have hold of something.

Lilagni seems to be faring worse however. Their little poofs of fire don’t seem to even singe the great beast’s feathery fur. Every time the bear creature closes in, it swipes at Lil, who looks worse and worse by the moment. I panic, and try to help by launching some of my sharper objects at the bear from the rapids. The objects are too light, and don’t seem to make a difference. I’d craft a giant spear again, but that would take my walking stick, which I’m currently relying on to not die in a torrent of rapids.

Lil’s not moving. Lil stopped moving after the last hit. No, no, no. I think, or perhaps scream aloud, “You’re a dragon aren’t you? You can’t lose to some bear, you have to be okay, please be okay!” Suddenly my blue bar takes a nosedive, and continues to steadily tick down. Lil’s body glows, and looks like it’s derezzing, my heart breaks as tears well in my eyes. Lil’s triangles look like they’re flowing in reverse, compared to VG and other creatures, but maybe that’s just because we’re in a party. Losing hope, I avert my eyes, hiding my tears in the spray of the rapids. I almost decide to just let go of my walking stick.