While killing a pachyderm-sized pork chop and rescuing the little kid trapped in its gut seemed like a lot of work for one day, Bo knew the hardest task lay ahead. He thanked his enhanced strength for letting him haul ass up the ladder, three rungs at a time with Bev clinging to his back like a tick, but wasn’t sure it would be enough to save him from the boss monster’s lair collapse.

Jenny and Slick hadn’t listened to Bo’s insistence that they run ahead of him and were instead waiting for him at the mouth of the passage leading back to the surface. Their pale faces and worried expressions told Bo more than he ever wanted to know about the state of the dungeon’s structural integrity.

“Don’t stand there gawking, move,” Bo said as he rushed toward them. “Lead us back to the surface, Jenny.”

The walls around them groaned and more pebbles pelted the party from above. Bo hoped nothing bigger fell out of the walls, because he had no way to protect Bev from falling rocks and no way to save himself from an avalanche.

Jenny led the party on a wild run out of the lair and down a seemingly endless series of twists and turns. More than once she chose a tunnel, only to have to turn back at the last second as it collapsed into rocky debris. To her credit, the freckled YouTube star didn’t even flinch when that happened. She simply hunched her shoulders against the din of falling rocks and hustled on to the next tunnel.

“It’s getting hard to breathe,” Bev choked out from her perch on Bo’s back. “The dust hurts my eyes.”

“I know,” Bo said, blinking away the dirt and grit that filled the air. “It won’t be long now.”

“You think my parents will be up there?” she asked.

“Sure they will,” Slick answered before Bo could say a word. “I bet they got out before all this started. You’ll see them soon.”

Bo did not want to lie to the kid, but knew Slick had the right idea. The last thing they needed was to deal with Bev freaking out while they were racing for their lives. They’d have to explain the truth to her as soon as they reached the surface, but they’d have a lot less distractions when rocks weren’t crashing down around their heads. It was another problem he’d deal with later.

Future Bo had a lot on his plate.

Like the two rival forces apparently breathing down his hex’s neck. He should have known better than to think they’d be able to relax, even for a minute, after dealing with the porky problem in the dungeon’s basement.

Focus on what is important. Survival. The rest will sort itself out. You have proved surprisingly resourceful for a human.

Bo was about to thank Barbie for the compliment when Slick cried out and fell to the ground. The older man clutched his ankles in both hands, and his face was twisted into a pained grimace.

“No laying down on the job,” Bo said, and offered Slick his hand.

“It’s my ankle,” Slick said. “I rolled it on a crack in the damned floor.”

“Go to the nice lady up there,” Bo said as he pulled Bev off his back. “Run fast.”

“She has a knife,” Bev said.

“It’s for dealing with monsters,” Bo said.

“Oh!” the little girl replied. “That’s good.”

She skipped down the passage, seeming not to care about the pebbles raining down around her or the cracks zigzagging across the walls like black lightning bolts. Bo wished he could be so relaxed in the face of imminent destruction.

“Guess I’ll help your ass walk,” Bo said, and hauled Slick up onto his remaining good leg. “Try not to enjoy it too much.”

Slick was a foot shorter than Bo and at least fifty pounds lighter, but the two managed to position themselves so the younger man could support the older. It was far slower than Bo would have liked, but it was faster than if he tried to carry his friend.

“This is what happens when you start up cardio all at once,” Slick said, wincing against the pain in his leg. “Gonna be a hell of a hike back to camp.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Bo said. “There aren’t any monsters left here, so we could always leave you up top and get help from the campsite.”

“I’m not staying out in the open,” Slick replied. “Those damned jackalopes will eat me alive.”

“Doubt it,” Bo replied. “You’re tougher and stringier than brisket off a petrified cow carcass. They’d have to braise you in a bathtub of wine for a decade just to soften you up enough to chew.”

“Look here, chicken legs,” Slick said.

“You look here,” Bo said, gesturing to his filled-out legs. “These are not chicken legs.”

“Why are they so pink?” Slick asked.

“Shut up,” Bo said with a sigh.

Because his legs were definitely tinged pink. He’d been so happy to have meat on his bones again that he hadn’t noticed the color. Or how his legs were almost completely hairless.

You are what you eat, Bo. And you did just eat a lot of supernatural sow meat.

Great. Just what he needed.

As much as the pink legs bothered him, though, Bo didn’t have time to think about them for very long. The cracks in the walls had reached the ceiling, where they dislodged ever larger pieces of stone. Those chunks sent stone splinters shooting off in every direction when they slammed into the floor, raising yelps of surprise and pain from the party and their pint-sized adoptee.

Jenny had to turn back from the passages she chose more and more as the collapse intensified. Bo had lost track of how long they’d been running. He still had gas in the tank, but he was feeling every second of his busy day. His legs were a mass of aches and pains, and Slick’s weight had slowed him down.

“Go on, man,” Slick gasped, sweat dripping from his face. “Leave me here. No sense in both of us getting smashed flat.”

“Shut up,” Bo said. “We’re almost out of here.”

“You don’t know that,” Slick said. “Go on.”

The old man pushed Bo away, and promptly fell flat on his ass. He groaned at the pain from his wounded ankle and bruised tailbone, eyes squeezed shut.

“I don’t have time for this,” Bo said, and kneeled next to Slick. The pitmaster grabbed his friend by an arm and leg, then hoisted him over his shoulders.

“Put me down,” Slick growled. “I’m not a sack of potatoes.”

“You are now,” Bo said.

Slick was easier to handle like that, Bo thought. At least with the older man on his shoulders the pitmaster didn’t have to worry about tangling their feet and falling on his face. While his enhanced strength held out, Bo was confident he could carry Slick.

“You’re breaking my ribs,” Slick groaned as Bo ran to catch up with Jenny and Bev.

“You’re breaking my balls,” Bo shot back. “Hush up, I need to concentrate.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

You are very frustrating human. There is no possible reason to keep this old man. He is weak, and that weakness has infected you. Drop him and run, so that we may live to protect the others.

Bo wasn’t about to listen to the devil. There was a sick logic to what Barbie said, and the pitmaster was worried that if he let it infiltrate his thoughts it would never leave. In a world where survival was so tenuous, maybe protecting the weak was a liability.

Yes. Now you see. First you needlessly endanger yourself trying to save a child who, I assure you, will grow up to be a tremendous thorn in your side. Now you’re risking everything to save an old man for sentimental reasons.

“Shut up, Barbie,” Bo grunted.

“Who the hell you calling Barbie?” Slick asked. “And I didn’t say anything!”

Bo cursed under his breath. He had to remember not to talk to the devil where others might overhear him. The pitmaster felt strange enough with his magic deck and pink legs. He wouldn’t give people more reasons to think he was losing it.

“Bo!” Jenny shouted, contagious excitement in her voice. “This is it! Hurry!”

While the pitmaster carried Slick, he’d fallen farther behind Jenny and Bev. He had a hundred feet to go to reach the passage the rest of the party had disappeared down. But with the way the tunnel was coming apart around them, Bo wasn’t sure he’d make it.

“Shit, I’m too old to get pulped by falling rocks,” Slick said, grunting with pain between each syllable.

A rock bounced off Bo’s skull, staggering him and bringing stars to his eyes. Another one clipped his hip, weakening his leg. Then he stepped into a gap that opened in the floor, and the big man went down like a felled tree.

“Sorry,” he groaned, and dragged himself back to his feet.

Slick was dazed on the ground, his eyes rolling in their sockets, hands raised to fend off the falling stones. There was no way Bo could get him back on his shoulders and escape the tunnel before it smashed them both into meaty puree. Instead, the younger pitmaster grabbed his friend’s good leg and dragged him forward.

The pair of them grunted and growled against the continuous rain of rocks pelting them. Bo hadn’t picked up a wound yet, but his condition had shifted to bruised minutes ago. He was far more worried about the fifty feet that remained between him and the surface, though. That worry spiked his veins with adrenaline, giving him a last surge of strength to run forward.

“You’re killing me back here!” Slick shouted.

Bo didn’t respond. All his efforts were focused on getting them to safety. Ten feet from the tunnel, though, he knew they’d never make it like this. The ceiling was coming down, and chunks of stone the size of Volkswagen Beetles hammered the floor behind them. The tunnel itself would soon be choked with rocks, and then they’d be done for.

“See you on the other side,” Bo shouted, and whipped his arm forward.

“You asshole!” Slick responded as rolled across the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.

Bo watched his friend tumble as he ran and let out a sigh of relief when Slick rolled across the tunnels threshold to safety.

The ceiling was coming down. Bo was out of options. He took a final step, then threw himself into a headlong dive toward the shrinking opening ahead. He hit the ground and slid across the stone like a baseball player in a desperate race for home plate.

Shards of stone pelted his face as rocks slammed down around him. Something hit Bo’s back hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Then the falling rocks became an avalanche, choking the tunnel with stone and dust.

And everything went dark.

----------------------------------------

Bo knew he was in hell because something kept yanking on his arm. All he wanted to do was sleep, but a demon was too busy tormenting him. The pitmaster hoped the creature would just rip his shoulder apart so he could get back to sleep.

“Could you be any heavier?” the demon asked. “You’re off barbecue until you get your girlish figure back.”

That really would be hell.

Open your eyes. You aren’t dead. Yet. And if this was one of the hells, the demons would not stop at pulling your arm. Trust me.

Reluctantly, Bo opened his eyes. The only break in the darkness that surrounded him was a faint spot of light near his elbow. He took a quick inventory of his aches and pains, realized he was in no immediate danger of kicking the bucket, and began the arduous process of wriggling his way free of the rockfall that had pinned him to the stone floor.

“He lives,” Slick said, the sarcasm of his words significantly lessened by the deep relief in his voice. “Not that he deserves to after he chucked me like a damned bowling ball.”

“You’re welcome,” Bo said, shaking his hand loose from Jenny’s grasp to drag himself out of the ruins of the boss monster’s lair.

“Slick wasn’t kidding,” the little girl said. “Your legs are really pink, mister.”

“Thanks, kid,” Bo said. “Next time you need someone to save your life, don’t come looking for ol’ Pink Legs Houston.”

“She’s right, though,” Jenny said. “Can I touch them? They look so soft.”

Bo sighed and looked around to get his bearings. He needed to find some long pants, immediately if not sooner. Maybe one of the casino’s shops would have some.

Though it did not appear much of the casino was left. The cave still stood, and the burning braziers remained, but all the slot machines and gamblers were gone. Bo’s heart sank at the sight. There’d be no clothes here, no medicine, and no food. Sure, the smoker might still be around, but they had so many other problems to deal with. He stood there for a moment, bruised and battered, trying to decide on his next steps. Whatever he chose to do would have consequences for the people depending on him. That weight was a burden that threatened to overwhelm him with its gravity.

No. He wouldn’t let everyone down like that. He wouldn’t let himself down like that.

“Let’s go check on the smoker,” Bo said. “I want to get it back to camp and start cooking up something tasty.”

“And find my parents,” Bev said, cheerfully.

“Yeah,” Bo said.

This was not a conversation he wanted to have here. He didn't ever want to have it, really. Eventually, he knew, Bev had to hear the truth. But he wasn't about to talk about her dead parents in the very place they’d died. Not when they might be attacked by roaming monsters at any time. Just because the gamblers were dead didn't mean there weren't other threats to deal with.

At least, that's the story he told himself about why he wasn't having a very serious conversation with the little girl.

Slick and Jenny got the picture, and the group headed off in search of an exit from the cavern. Bo was relieved to find the rest of the cave complex hadn't suffered the same fate as the massive porker's bedroom. The fire light showed no cracks in the walls or ceiling, and the floor was smooth and unbroken. Bo wasn't sure what the rest of the barbecue competitors would think, but he believed this might be a good place for them to move their camp. It was certainly more defensible than the open plains where they were now. A few RVs could effectively block the entrances and exits to the former casino, instead of just creating a barrier that the jack lobes are other monsters could run around.

Before he could bring that thought up to Jenny and Slick, Bev suddenly darted ahead of them.

“I hear my mama,” she squealed. Her bare feet slapped against the stone as she rushed ahead.

Bo tried to catch up to the girl, but even his long legs were no match for her youthful exuberance. She cried out again and again, calling for her mother, and the distance between her and Bo widened. Bev disappeared around a corner of the casino, her cries growing more distant by the second.

Another noise caught Bo's ears. A soft keening came from somewhere up ahead, a sound both mournful and weary. It sounded like a woman, but Bo couldn't imagine that Bev's parents had survived this mess. He lowered his head and pumped his arms as he ran as fast as he could manage.

Bo rounded the corner.

He saw Bev.

And Lydia.

The tall, horse-faced monster had one of its painfully thin arms looped around the little girl's chest. She held Bev against her knobby knees, and her other hand, its deadly talons extended, hovered beside the little girl's throat.

“Let her go,” Bo threatened, the Carnivore's Cleaver appearing in his hand. “I don't want any trouble, but you will not hurt that girl.”

“She's just playing!” Bev shouted. “Doesn’t she look funny?”

“She sure does,” Jenny said as she joined Bo. “She's gonna look even funnier if she doesn't let you go.”

“Yep,” Slick agreed. “Playtime's over, Bev. Come back here.”

“She said she knows where my mama is,” Bev replied. “I'm not leaving until she tells me.”

Bo hadn't expected that. He didn't know what Lydia's game was, but he had to get Bev away from her. Maybe he could use Hog's Hop to get behind the monster and take her out. Unfortunately, Lydia was awfully powerful. It didn't seem as if the destruction of the boss monster and the dungeon core had weakened her at all.

“I don't think she's telling the truth,” Bo said. “Why don't you come over here by me, and we'll talk.”

“Listen to me,” Lydia said. “I can help this girl. I can help you, too. Put down your weapons, and we’ll talk like civilized creatures.”

I would not trust her. She’s a fiendish beast.

Bo didn't like this, but he didn't see any other way out of the situation. If Lydia really did want to talk, he could at least hear her out before things evolved into sudden and explosive violence. “I'm not sure what we have to discuss, but I'm listening.”

Lydia nodded her horsey head and gestured her free hand. Bo could just make out the smoker half-hidden in the shadows behind her. “You've defeated the focus dungeon. It was my job to make sure the Apocalypse Sow operated effectively. Since you've deprived me of gainful employment, I humbly request you hire me.”

Bo raised an eyebrow at the monster. “As my what? Executioner?”

Lydia chuckled, and patted Bev's head. “There's so much you don't understand about the Grail System. I have insight that could be valuable to you.”

“Like what?” Jenny asked, clearly not buying Lydia’s spiel. “How to catch little kids?”

Lydia chuckled, her eyes rolling in their sockets. The expression was both ridiculous and horrifying. “Everything in the system runs on crypt currency. The harvesters who came here need it to fund their expeditions. The resources they bring back with them will earn even more crypt currency. But there are other entities involved in this harvest, ones who are more powerful than the boots on the ground. Earning their favor could significantly improve your odds of survival. And I am uniquely situated to help you in that regard.”

“You want to be my business manager?” Bo asked.

Lydia laughed again, yellow spittle spraying from her bony lips. “Oh, no, my boy. I have something much better in mind. I want to manage your social media presence.”