Day 14, 5:45 PM

“Nothing ends, Adrian. Nothing ever ends.”

— Doctor Manhattan, (Alan Moore)

“So, there’s a navigable river called Monona thirty-five miles west of Amplegord?” I ask, gasping for air.

BSD was gracious to inform me two hours ago I was tired, and man, am I tired. Status Tired comes with a penalty to all attributes, and I’m now two points worse at everything than I was this morning. Kind of harsh, but I remember that from my original life as well. If you’re tired, you suck at stuff.

Maybe we had the BSD back home, we just couldn’t see it?

To be honest, I expected a worse penalty. And despite it, here I am, an hour before the sunset, and we’re still making progress, hopefully widening the distance from our pursuers.

Manuella thinks I’ve taken to playing a game called ‘Our best fantasy escape,’ and she’s playing along. The number of options she’s opening for me is staggering, and she has no idea I will use them all next time. Well, the best nonconflicting ones anyway.

“Yes, you can buy an old boat for twenty to thirty shields, a decent one for two to three crowns. We can sail our boat down the river and sink it at a convenient place after two or three days of sailing, then we could swim ashore and disappear.”

Good plan. I like it. I say it aloud. “I like that plan. Then we can take the slightly longer route and still make it to Vatgord, right? You’re certain they are still loyal to your father.”

“I am positive. That is the closest loyalist stronghold. From there we can conquer the kingdom and make you the king you deserve to be.”

She’s going a bit too far with her lies, but then I realize I’m stumbling. There’s still an hour of light. Every minute matters.

“How about you let me walk now. I am fine, and fresh.” I look at her, and she’s not really all right. I’ve jolted her today more than I did the previous two nights combined, but I’m afraid I might drop her, so I let her down.

“Sorry.” I wheeze, and she flashes me a smile. My head swims, and for a moment I see Mary back when she was pregnant. She sprained her ankle during our evening walk. The lighting is just the right shade of orange, and I’m just as slick with sweat as I was back then, ages ago.

Manuella kisses me and takes my hand.

“Lean on me.” She breaks the chivalrous script I had in mind. If she were Mary, I would’ve slapped her butt, or groped her boob, but I dare not do that to Manuella.

I shake my head instead. “Thank you. You should stay as fresh as possible.”

She gives me an ugly look, but I shake my head again. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t escape on my own anymore. Now, less talking and more walking.”

I follow her, frowning as I think.

The last howl seemed quite some distance away, but how far can you even hear a dog howling? Two miles? Five? Ten? Doesn’t matter. Tonight’s the night. Next time, I’ll have to buy a dozen torches, but there’s already so much escape equipment Manuella and I listed, we’d both need to carry really massive backpacks with all the necessities, and they don’t even have backpacks in this world.

We somehow stumble through the dusk and finally stop for the night when it turns pitch black. I have recovered somewhat during the walk, or that’s what I think until I sit down and realize I’m shaking.

I groan, the familiar back-pain I thought I have left behind on a different planet, is back with a vengeance.

“Strip and cover yourself.” Manuella throws the blanket over my head.

Quite aggressive tonight, aren’t we? I’m not really sure I can perform up to my previous standard, but I obey. I’m almost finished when I realize I didn’t hear the rustle of her getting naked.

“What about you?” I ask, but she’s all business.

“Lay down on your belly and cover up.” I trust her, but even if I didn’t, we’re in the dark, I’m dead tired, and she’s got a dagger.

She doesn’t stab me. My buttocks flash with pain as she grabs them, then moves down to my thighs and starts massaging me, working her way towards the calves.

“You are all cramped up,” she says, moving to sit atop my butt. “Your legs should be the worst, but your arms and back must ache as well.”

“I’m all right,” I lie, but she’s having none of it and slaps my thigh.

“Bad boy! Lying to me at a time like this!”

“You’ve been lying to me for days.” I try to argue, but it’s useless.

“I have only embellished the truth a tiny bit. It does not count.” She sucks in a breath of air as she feels the squishy loose skin of my busted feet and goes back to the calves. “You are harder than granite. All of you. This much effort is nothing to you. You will fight the guards tomorrow, you will destroy them, and then I will reward you. You will be king, and I will be your queen. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I answer in a whisper just as quiet as hers.

“Do you understand?” she says loudly, almost shouting.

Oh, this is that kind of speech.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Yes,” I shout, louder than I wanted.

“What will you do tomorrow?”

“I will fight, and I will destroy them, and then I will,” Blunt wants to say something else, but I clench my teeth and squeeze out a, “kiss you.”

She pecks me on the calf. “You are a good boy.”

I want to turn around, grab and kiss her, but her knees are pressing on my buttocks, and with every muscle hurting, I ain’t turning around while someone is pinning me.

She squeezes me, stabs my back with her elbow, and presses it with the heel of her palm for over an hour. I really feel better. Not good, but definitely better.

Clothes rustle in the dark, and she snuggles into our woolen tortilla wrap, climbing on top of me.

“No action for you tonight. You need to rest.” She pecks me on the nose, and it seems intentional. “Tonight you will sleep, and I will watch over you.”

She’s really kind. I wonder whether she’s sincere, or she’s such a brilliant actress, and so dedicated to escaping she’s willing to do anything. I recall what she said a week ago, when we first escaped, about her body, about who she is, and what she is not willing to do.

Was that a lie? But another part of me has a very simple explanation. Maybe she just loves me? I told her I would die for her, that I wouldn’t leave her, and proved it every step of the way. Maybe I moved her?

It’s probably something between… I slip into sleep.

The howl makes me jump. It’s close. It’s still dark. Where’s Manuella? Did she leave me behind?

“You are awake. I wanted to give you another ten minutes. They are close, but not that close.” She pauses. “They will be here soon. Probably in half an hour.”

“Are you dressed?” I fumble for my clothes.

“Yes.”

“Move. We’ll run in the dark if we have to.”

“We can walk slowly,” she says, gathering the blanket. “That will buy us more time, maybe even until sunrise.”

My body is stiff, my muscles ache, and I don’t even bother putting on my shirt, even though it’s an extra layer of protection. “Move, move. We have to run.”

“We Walk Carefully,” she says, and I check BSD.

I’m still Tired, the timer on Redo is showing sixty-seven minutes. If we open a bit of distance, everything will be all right. I will start over like last time, and we will escape long enough to start an armed rebellion. With any luck, I will level Anarchist and see what I need to do for the next level.

I push her to go faster for several minutes, and she finally snaps at me.

“Lead if you want to lead. Otherwise, let me do it my way.”

“I have to protect the rear,” I say, my throat still full of morning phlegm.

“Sorry,” she says in a milder voice. “I am under stress. We will get through this.”

I want to pat her shoulder, but I accidentally grab her upper arm. I improvise and give her a reassuring squeeze.

“Right,” I bring up the most awkward question, one which I delayed for as long as possible. “If I ever wanted to win your trust, what would I have to do?”

“You already have my trust,” she says, and I can feel her going stiff.

“It’s a weird question, sorry. I worded it wrongly, what I meant to ask is what made you trust me?”

“Your actions, words, how you approached things. You cannot quantify such things.”

I guess that’s true.

The beast howls. It’s excited, it’s on our trail. It’s close, and there’s faint light I can see by.

I check my screen again. Two minutes. We can make it.

“They are close, and there’s enough light, can we move just a bit faster? Please?”

She snorts, but relents and picks up her pace.

I watch seconds trickle by when the dog howls again. It’s closer. And there are multiple dogs. I can practically sense their bloodlust.

From this close, I can somehow differentiate the barks and know they come from different animals.

“Flake found them!” A distant shout enters my ear.

“Did you hear that?” I ask, and Manuella shakes her head.

“No.”

We’re safe.

The seconds trickle down, and Redo turns white again. The sun is up, we can see, and we can keep going.

Hours pass, we hustle, but they are gaining on us. Finally, someone shouts clearly enough for Manuella to hear them.

“They are close,” she says, and I nod.

“You keep running, I’ll take out the dogs first, and then the guards.” I turn around, and she grabs my bare arm.

“Come back to me, please.” Tears slid down her cheeks, and her chin quivers.

She either loves me, or she deserves a fucking Oscar.

I kiss her. Deeply, passionately, then I let go.

“You keep going ahead. We’ll meet up again, I promise I won’t leave you hanging.”

With that, I dash back the way we came from, ready to fight.

I don’t turn around, and I hope she keeps going forward. She’s an amazing woman, and if I somehow get through this alive, she’s going to give birth to my children.

After a few steps, I decide there’s no need to run. I just hide behind a thick tree and wait. They reach me in less than ten minutes. The dogs bark louder, the sound weird in my ear, and their handler speaks, “They’re around here somewhere.”

An excellent deduction. I close my eyes, and reopen them, focusing on the shrub with definitely familiar toxic berries, but edible leaf sprouts of all things.

The dogs don’t bark, they squeal and holler like crazy, and I hear the clanking of metal.

“Form up,” someone shouts, and they approach. Slowly, carefully.

At least ten of them. I somehow know based on the sound, and soon enough I can even track their distance. The insane dogs are howling and yanking at their chain leashes and when they are two steps away, I jump at them.

Four dogs, four handlers, ten guards, a random young man in once fancy clothing.

I have no idea who the guy in yellow livery is. I don’t care. The dogs freak me out and occupy all my attention. They are giant, hairless rats. Their oversized incisors glisten like freaking daggers.

What the hell!

I smash the nearest monster’s skull with a fist and go for the next one. Handlers shout, guards and the youth draw their swords, the rats keep howling and biting me and dying. In a few moments, the forest grows quieter. I silenced the rats, but the men used the opening and surrounded me.

The rat handlers are glaring at me like I’ve killed their families, metal cudgels in their hands. I kill two of them before my world turns red.

Rage expires, and I regain my senses for a moment. Seven bodies litter the ground, I’m riddled with wounds and holes, leaking all over the place, and I’ve got five swords in my chest and guts. Three belonged to corpses, two still have living owners, including the fancy-dressed kid.

I dearly wish to punch the bastard, but my body is a limp bundle of agony.

They are all here, five steps away at most.

I draw my final breath, steel scraping against my insides.

She’s safe.

I smile and explode.