Bernard spent a good portion of the trip back through the canyon kicking random things on the ground and venting his frustration on the passing crows and gulls in the sky. More than one fell dead from his spell before we reached the beginning of the Scrapyard.
Fortunately, there was a hidden achievement for getting to the end of the Scrapyard that granted both of us +15% Mastery in Endurance and Strength, so it wasn’t a complete waste of time.
“Got that out of your system, Bernard?” Aurora asked as Jack and I loaded up the truck with our bags.
“No. Why toilet paper of all things?”
She snickered as she climbed into the driver’s seat. Bernard takes the only other seat, and Jack and I sit in the back with the luggage.
“So...what do you think?” Jack asked.
“What do you mean?”
“About them.”
The engine roared to life and the jeep pulled out. We were within the limits of New Eden in ten minutes.
“You also said you wanted to go to the Coal Pit as well, right?”
“Eventually, yeah,” Jack said.
“Well, there’s going to be an expedition soon for the members of our group, to prepare for the bigger one. I hear the higher-ups are thinking of making the attack on the city I mentioned in my letter mandatory for all members of the White Company.”
“So?” He asks.
“So, we’re going to need to set up advanced camps and supply routes beforehand. That’s where we’re going to come in.”
“And?”
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“And, that’s going to take some time.”
“How long do I have to get through the Coal Pits?”
“A week at the most.” She said, “Unfortunately, I can’t really be of help there. Fire is my primary element, and if I used it there.” She placed her hands together and mouthed a little, ‘boom,’ as she tore them apart.
“So we probably shouldn’t use guns…” Jack said.
“We?” I asked.
“Aren’t you going?”
“Not any time soon. I’m exhausted.”
“Ah, did you pick up something for a hobby?” Aurora asked.
“Yeah, but I haven’t really done anything with it.”
“What did you get?”
She glanced back at me as a few people unloaded the car.
“A whittling knife set.”
“Ohh, carve me a bird or something.”
“Why?”
“Aw, you’re no fun.” She got her things and headed off. Bernard followed shortly after, while Jack and I went our separate ways to turn in our respective jobs.
I head back to the warehouse on the outskirts of the town. Inside, they were busy hammering the body of some type of engine; others were getting into trucks and heading out of the town. I reached the back room of the warehouse, and the well-dressed man looked up at me. Dark circles underlined his eyes, and streaks of rust and soot-stained his vanilla-colored shirt.
“Ah, you’re back. I take it you were there for the Rat King?”
“I was.”
“Well, thanks to that we’re not going to be needing people to head to the Scrapyard for a bit.” He said as he took a cigarette from a pack tucked into his rolled-up sleeve. “Smoke?”
I shook my head, he shrugged and set the cigarette in between his lips, pulled a lighter out of his pocket, and lit it.
“Why’s that?”
“The rats were the biggest obstacle, so with the rats held off for now, I’m able to send out some of my own guys to pick up what we need.” He took a long drag from his cigarette.
“Oh, is that where all of those people were heading?”
“Indeed. Well, show me what you have.”
I emptied out my bag. 100 pounds of scrap, 15 cogs later, I’m 1200 dollars richer.
“If you can, do the coal pits next.” He said, “That’s the last step we need before we can begin.”
“Begin what?”
He glanced out the dingy window by his desk.
“The process of reclamation.” He said as he took a long drag from his cigarette. The paper turned to gray ash and crumbled to the ground.
I excused myself and headed back into town. I sold off the various items I had at the General Store, and headed back to the inn with a piece of wood I fished out from the canal. A bird? Is that what she wanted? As I walked up to my room, I got a message on my PID I set my bags down around the bed, and pulled my PID out. A single message from Eli:
“Look what I got~”
Attached was a picture that sent my bones aching. Cloudy crystals sitting at the bottom of a plastic baggy. The shaking starts again, as I send back, ‘How much?’