Bo didn't want to give Jenny the whole spiel about how he'd been possessed by a devil in order to save his life. It was difficult enough for him to believe that he'd allowed it to happen, and it would be both embarrassing and raise suspicions if he admitted the truth to his friend. Of course, he knew the lie he was about to tell might cause even more damage to his relationship with Jenny down the road. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to deal with the fallout of an admission just then.
“Look,” he said. “I'm under a lot of stress. This week has been one bad thing after another. My dad's funeral, debt collectors hounding me, and then, you know, the apocalypse. When I was a kid, my mom told me that when I got too stressed out, I should talk things out with myself. Barbie's like, I don't know, not an imaginary friend, but someone who just listens when I need to talk. She's not real, just in my head.”
Yes, Bo. This sounds so much better than admitting you were possessed by a devil to save your life. I will never understand humans. Nothing you do makes any sense to me.
Jenny gave Bo a sympathetic look, but he caught the hard glint of suspicion beneath her gaze. “There's something you're not telling me,” she said. “I don't know what it is, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, this time. Just know that keeping secrets from me won't help you in the long run. And it won't help any of the people who are depending on you, either. You're the only one with a deck, Bo. But that doesn't make the rest of us any less valuable when it comes to helping you. Don't forget that.”
She grabbed hold of one of his rubber gloves, peeled it off, and tucked it under her arm. Then she held tight to Bo's hand with both of hers. Jenny kept her eyes locked on the pitmasters as she held on, the warmth of her fingers around his combining with the compassion in her gaze to comfort the pitmaster. Bo was surprised at how good that simple human contact felt. Even before everything went to hell in a handbasket, it'd been a long time since he'd really been close to anyone. His father's sickness had robbed the old man of his vitality and his sharp wit, leaving him trapped in a husk of a body that could barely react to Bo's presence. Caring for the rotting carcass of his father had sapped most of the young man’s time and energy. Even his sister had drifted away. Bo didn’t blame her, but he’d been so lonely.
“Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate it. And we’ll have a long talk about everything, once the world settles down a bit.”
Jenny nodded and squeezed his hands a final time before returning his glove. “Now what do we do?”
“Now, we feed people.”
----------------------------------------
Thanks to the treasure he'd taken from the porky terror, Bo had more than enough crypt oins to fire up the Oroborus Smoker. He put his hand on the top of the massive hunk of metal, and willed it to come alive. Moments later, the black metal was warm to the touch and the smell of roasting meat flowed from its smokestack along with blue-white trails of smoke. The pitmaster didn't have to ring the dinner bell, because a cool wind blew that seductive scent deep into the cavern.
Within a few minutes, the first hungry faces showed up to find Bo serving pork ribs, sliced brisket, and even some spicy sausage links. The smoker had created plates with its magic, and bow loaded them up and handed them out as folks approached him. Everyone was orderly and polite to one another, and that filled the Bo's heart with pride. Seeing people who'd been through the ringer being good to one another restored a little of his faith in humanity. It was easy to forget that most people were nice, polite, and willing to lend a helping hand when the chips were down. Without endless news cycles to spin them into political tribes, or social media to stir up their deepest fears against one another, people actually got along pretty well.
Maybe the apocalypse wasn't so bad.
Bo satisfied himself with the simple chore of carving up hunks of meat, slapping them on a plate, and handing them to the people who depended on him. Their thanks and the smiles on their faces were all the reward he needed.
“Got anything else for us to do?” Martin asked. The man and his friends were the last in line, and Bo gave them hefty portions because there was so much meat left. A hundred pounds went a long way, even when there weren’t any sides to go with it.
“Nothing today, unless you can whip up some cornbread to go with this brisket,” Bo said with a grin. “But maybe tomorrow. We need to pay a visit to some of our neighbors, and I don't want to do it alone.”
“We gonna bust some heads?” Martin asked. “I've got five buddies. We could do some work for you.”
Bo fixed himself a plate, then shook his head. “No. We’ll keep things peaceful. We already have two rival forces beside our hex. I’d much rather turn these guys, or gals, to our side than pick another fight.”
“Then why bring muscle?” Martin asked.
Bo chuckled and tasted the brisket. The meat was tender and tasty, but lacked a certain uniqueness that he enjoyed from sampling the barbecue competitions. The magic smoker had captured most of the flavor, but there was an indefinable human element that was missing. In some ways, that was a relief. Bo didn't like to think of magic replacing human skill.
“I'm bringing muscle,” Bo explained, “because that stops problems before they start. If I go up there alone, they’ll see one guy and might think it's a good idea to deal with me permanently. But if it's a bunch of us, well, it makes more sense to talk things out than risk a big brawl.”
“What if seeing a small army freaks them out?” Martin asked.
“It might,” Bo agreed. “That's a risk we have to take, because it’s safer for us.”
“Okay,” Martin said, clearly not convinced. “We'll be ready first thing in the morning. We’ll meet you at the smoker tomorrow morning.”
“You bet,” Bo said.
It took him a couple of hours to feed everyone a second round of meat. That wasn't his idea of fun, but Bo’s old man had always said the guy who feeds the tribe is the guy leads the tribe. The pitmaster wanted people to trust him, and giving them food was a shortcut to accomplish that goal.
When the last hungry camper had shuffled off with a satisfied sigh, Bo patted the smoker and headed into the cave to find a place to sleep. He was wiped out. Though it was probably only eight or nine o'clock, the pitmaster could hardly keep his eyes open. A hard day's work, a full belly, and one death under his belt had just about tuckered him out.
Fortunately, Jenny had been hanging out close to the smoker. When she saw Bo poking around the cavern, she came over and grabbed hold of his arm. “You look like the walking dead,” she said. “Let's get you to your room.”
“I have a room?” Bo asked.
“You better believe it,” Jenny said. “Slick and I picked it out for you. I think you’ll like it.”
Jenny led Bo down the south leg of the casino, past small gatherings of his former competition who waved at him. Bo waved back, though the energy it cost him was almost too much. Jenny got the pitmaster back to his room just before the urge to sleep knocked Bo off his feet.
“Where'd all this come from?” he asked, getting a little jolt of energy from the surprising state of his quarters.
“Pure friggin' magic,” Jenny said with a grin. “Installing the community focus started a level 0 community, according to Lydia. That provided everybody with a room, a bed, and a few other necessities.”
Bo looked around the room Jenny had led him to, his eyes growing a little wider with every detail he took in.
For one thing, it had a door. The barrier was made of thick wood, with no handle that Bo could see. It was open when they'd arrived, and he pushed it closed. A loud click announced the latch had engaged, and a rectangle in the center of the door glowed red. Bo instinctively knew that the lock would only open for him, and only if he put his palm in the center.
The chamber also held a king-sized bed that was a little longer than normal, as if it had been created with Bo's heightened mind. A thick mattress covered with a heavy fur blanket and far too many pillows dominated the frame. There was a heavy wooden trunk at the foot of the bed, and Bo once again knew that it would lock and only open at his command.
Two night stands flanked the bed. One on the left side held a quartz pitcher, its facets polished to a mirror sheen, and a ceramic basin. The other nightstand held a glowing stone that shed warm light across the room. A door in the back of the room led to what looked like a bathroom, from what little Bo could see through it.
“Watch this,” Jenny said.
She took the pitcher off the nightstand and tilted its mouth toward the basin. Though the decanter was empty, water poured into the ceramic bowl, filling it nearly to the brim. When Jenny replaced the pitcher on the nightstand, it was still empty.
PFM, indeed.
Jenny brought the basin over to Bo and held it out to him. “Wash your hands,” she said.
Bo shucked his gloves off and dropped them to the floor, too tired to care where they landed. The pitmaster shoved his filthy hands into the water and was amazed at how warm it was. He was even more amazed because simply scrubbing his fingers together was enough to leave his hands perfectly clean. Even the blood and gore under his fingernails had washed away.
“Wow,” Bo said. “That’s great.”
“Lydia says we’ll get showers if we upgrade the place a few times,” Jenny said.
“That’d be nice,” Bo said. “I could go for a bath, too.”
“Yeah?” Jenny asked. “Let me help you get cleaned up.”
“I’m all right,” Bo said. “Get some rest. I’ll need your help in the morning.”
“I'm not going anywhere,” Jenny said. She took Bo's hand and led him over to the nightstand. She sat the basin on it, then stood on tiptoes to lift Bo's apron over his head. She reached around behind him, their bodies pressed close together, and untied its strings. That left Bo standing there in boots and shorts.
“That's mighty forward of you, ma'am,” Bo said, looking down at Jenny. She was so close her chin practically touched his sternum when she tilted her head back to return his look.
“Shut up,” she said with a laugh. She scooped warm water from the basin and used it clean Bo from the top of his head to his feet.
The pitmaster closed his eyes and let Jenny do her work. Once again, the simple warmth of human contact disarmed him. He wanted to stay like that forever. Before he knew it, Jenny had finished her work and pushed Bo back onto the bed.
“I've missed you,” she whispered. “I know I should've called, even if we didn't part on the best terms. But seeing you in the middle of all this reminded me of what we had. If I’d known…I don’t know. Maybe I’d have stayed instead of starting that stupid YouTube channel. We could have been big hits on the contest circuit.”“
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
As she spoke, Jenny kicked off her shoes. She unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied out of them, then pulled her shirt up over her head. To Bo, she was one of the most beautiful women in the world. He'd been infatuated with Jenny since the minute he'd seen her all those years ago. And for a little while, it had looked like things might actually work out in his life for once.
But then she'd gone away, chasing after dreams he couldn't understand well enough to help her achieve. One more thing in his life that had left him behind.
Seeing her nearly naked, sliding up onto the bed with him, was almost enough to make Bo forget just how dead beat he was
Almost.
----------------------------------------
Bo woke to fingernails gently dragging across his chest. For a moment, he kept his eyes closed and imagined he hadn't fallen asleep last night. He reached up to hold the hand that had touched him, and his eyes shot open when he felt long claws and far too many joints. His eyes shot open to find four yellow eyes glaring down at him, and a tall creature looming above his bed.
“You scared the hell out of me, Lydia!” He exclaimed, thrusting her hand away. “I thought you were Jenny.”
“Why would Jenny be in your bedroom at this early hour?” Lydia asked. “Besides, she's been awake and waiting with the others while you slumbered.”
Bo blinked and scraped the sleep out of his eyes with the heels of his hands. “What time is it?”
“Just after sunup,” Lydia said. “I have no idea what the local time is. Martin and his friends woke me with their proximity to the community focus. Jenny joined them shortly thereafter. I thought it best to wake you, since they were waiting for your arrival.”
“Thanks,” Bo said. “But next time, maybe don't touch me when you wake me up. It's creepy.”
“I apologize,” Lydia said. “Among my kind, it's common to nuzzle your people awake. I thought I was showing restraint.”
“I suppose you were,” Bo said. “Listen. I'm taking the Where's the Beef community quests. How far away do you think those wet moppers are?”
Lydia's eyes glossed over for a moment, their yellow surfaces turning the color of molten silver. While she was preoccupied, Bo reached over the side of the bed to retrieve his clothes. His T-shirt was little more than rags, but at least his apron offered him some modesty. The boots still fit, which was nice, and they were made of tougher stuff than a mere apocalypse could ruin.
“I believe they occupy territory roughly three miles north along the black stone river,” Lydia said. “I don't have more information than that. Do you wish me to accompany you?”
Bo stood up from the bed, stretched his arms over his head, and shook his head. “No, I want you to stay here with Slick and keep an eye on things. We'll be back before long.”
Because we will kill them all.
Lydia cocked her head as if she'd heard something, which disturbed Bo. He wanted to ask the monster if she could eavesdrop on Barbie's conversations, but didn't want to raise the subject in case he was misinterpreting her reaction. A moment later, she nodded and said, “I'm glad you're bringing allies. It should make negotiations go simpler.”
“We'll see I guess,” Bo said. “If we can convert them to our cause, I'll bring them back. How many rooms do we have left?”
“The current capacity of your territory is approximately three hundred souls.” Lydia seemed to do a mental calculation. “If you raise the court to level 1, it will hold a thousand people. Level 2 can hold two thousand souls, level 3 will fit three thousand. After that, the numbers get progressively larger, but it would take far more crypt coins and resources than you have available to rise to level 4.”
“All right then,” Bo said. “Good to know we’ve got space. I’ll be back this afternoon with more folks. I hope.”
----------------------------------------
Jenny wanted to bring Slick long for the mission, but Bo had vetoed the idea. He needed the older man at camp to keep an eye on Bev and to make sure Lydia wasn't getting up to any shenanigans. The eight of them would be enough to deal with whatever their potential rivals got up to, especially with Bo along. Lydia was sure there were no other champion decks available in this hex, which meant they’d be dealing with regular folks. That tilted the odds in Bo’s favor.
Jenny couldn't pass up the chance to tease Bo when he appeared in the cavern's entryway. "Did you sleep okay?"
Bo nodded, feeling a little sheepish about how things had gone down. "I was dead tired."
"Sure seemed that way," she replied. "Just..look. I didn't mean to rush things. It just felt right, you know? Like picking back up after a break."
"No, it's fine," Bo said. "Great, I mean. It's great. It's not that I didn't want to--"
"Want to what? Martin asked as he ambled over to see what Jenny and Bo were talking about."We heading out, or what? My guys are antsy to get on the road."
"Yeah," Bo said, more than ready to get out of this awkward conversation. He'd make his feelings plain to Jenny, later. After they got back. "Let's go."
The highway outside the casino had changed to a long ribbon of fractured black stone. Bo was sure this was the river that Lydia had told him would lead to the targets of his quest. Unfortunately, following the former highway wasn’t easy. The black surface was dangerously uneven, with jagged rocks ready to trip the unwary and deep holes eager to trap a foot. Walking alongside the highway was easier, but the tall grass held way too many angry snakes for Bo’s comfort. That forced the group to walk single-file along the narrow strip of ground between the broken rocks and towering weeds.
And that didn’t even take into account the jackalopes who hopped along the road, their beady black eyes fixed on Bo’s group. The creatures were bigger than the pitmaster remembered. They stood nearly a yard tall, resting on their back legs, and their wickedly sharp antlers were easily two feet long.
“They look awful mad,” Martin said.
“I killed a bunch of them,” Bo said.
“So did we,” Jenny reminded him. “These must be their scouts.”
“You're probably right,” Bo said. “Let’s hope they aren’t keeping an eye on us so they can attack the camp.”
“I'd like to see them try to get into that cave,” Martin said. “Our people would tear them to pieces.”
Bo nodded, but he wasn’t as confident as the other man. The campers had only seen minor wounds so far. The growing jackalopes were now big enough to cause serious injury if they poked somebody with their horns. Sure, the other barbecue competitors would put up a good fight, but it was easy to see how they’d panic if a jackalope speared someone through the lungs.
You must harden them. Train your people to stand their ground. Teach them to be warriors.
Bo agreed with Barbie, but he wasn’t sure how to do that. Might be time to find out which of the older men had actual combat experience that he could use to train others. He thought about that while they walked on in silence, careful not to step on the snakes that slithered across their path, always wary of the jackalopes watching them at a distance.
The small group finally crested the long hill they’d been climbing for twenty minutes and looked down on a strange sight. A tall wooden structure sat beside the road at the bottom of the hill. Its walls rose to a high peak on either end, with a sloped roof between them. It was a strange looking structure, but Bo couldn’t put his finger on what he found so unusual.
“That shaped like a cowboy hat, or am I losing my mind?” Jenny asked.
Now that she mentioned it, that shape was all Bo could see. He was about to chuckle when he heard the loud, frantic ringing of a bell. Light flashed from the top of the hat-shaped structure, and Bo realized they’d been spotted by a watchman posted here.
The building’s wide front door opened, and a group of humanoid figures spilled out. They all wore hats that looked much like the building they’d just exited and stood at attention in front of their home.
“There goes the element of surprise,” Martin said.
“That's just as well,” Bo replied. “I didn't want to scare anyone. Let's go say hi.”
The group followed Bo down the hill toward the unusual building. The only figures that Bo saw were the man in the watchtower and the three figures outside the front door. The closer the pitmaster got to the cowboy hats, the more he realized just how tall they were. Made of fur, with bone bands around their brims, the hats stood at least two feet above their wearers’ heads. It was a ridiculous sight, but Bo couldn’t help but wonder where the bones had come from.
“Hold, stranger,” one of the men said. “Stay where you are.”
Bo raised a hand in response, then stopped cold. The rest of his people drew up into a long line on either side of him in the middle of the road. Bo sensed a threat in the air, but he couldn't figure out where it came from. They were fifty feet away from the front door, which was way too far for thrown weapons to reach them. He didn't see any bows or other projectile weapons on the men, and he knew firearms were useless now. The only weapons he saw were sheathed knives, which were no threat at range.
There is something wrong here. I sense another presence, but I cannot identify it.
“We’re not looking for any trouble,” Bo called. Barbie’s words unnerved him, but the pitmaster just wanted to defuse the situation before someone got hurt. “We just want to talk.”
That's good. Lure them into a false sense of security. When the time is right, you can strike. They’ll never expect the Hog's Hop.
That was true, but Bo wasn’t spoiling for a fight. He’d prefer an alliance over any new enemies.
“You should walk on,” the obvious leader of the cowboy hat group called. “We've suffered a serious loss today, and want no more trouble.”
“Maybe we can help,” Bo offered. “We mean you no harm.”
“That’s what the last one claimed,” the man said, his eyes hard as stone.
There was something wrong here, but Bo couldn’t figure it out. He kept hoping Barbie would tell him what he’d sensed, but the Devouring Devil had gone silent. Bo’s gut told him it was time to go, that there was nothing to be gained here. Maybe that was true, but he couldn't leave without at least trying to complete the quest.
“We've got barbecue back in our camp,” Bo said. “More than enough to share. If you want to come with us and talk, we'd be happy to have you.”
The man smiled, but his eyes were hidden beneath the shadow of his cowboy hat. All Bo could see was a wide line of white teeth. The man looked feral. There was a barely contained fury in his voice. Whatever had happened here, they were looking for someone to pin the blame on.
These men are driven. You should turn back. I cannot determine what foul sorcery is at work here, but you want no part of this.
One of Martin's men shouted, and Bo spun just in time to see a heavy rope net fall over him. The man tried to raise his knife, but his attacker yanked on the net to cinch it tight and drag the man off his feet.
“Don’t kill anyone,” Bo yelled to Martin and Jenny. “Let me take care of this.”
The pitmaster saw a dozen cowboy hats. Most of them had hidden in the tall weeds, but were now on the attack, with four on Martin’s side, five on Jenny’s, and three on the ground ahead of them. The man in the tower wasn’t a threat, so Bo didn’t count him.
A dozen to one. Those were tough odds.
They are not champions.
Before another attack took down more of his people, Bo willed his deck into action. The sound of riffling tickled his ears, and a new hand popped into view. Carnivore’s Cleaver, Hog’s Hop, Severance, and Webspinner made up a solid draw. With a shout, Bo hurled the Cleaver toward the cowboy hats on Martin’s side of the road.
Hog’s Hop went off next, and Bo was suddenly in the midst of the cowboy hats on the edge of the road. His arrival unleashed a blast of force in every direction, sending the cowboy hats flying in every direction. Their limp bodies crashed to the ground like rag dolls, and Bo hoped he hadn’t killed any of them.
You did not attack first. Their blood stains their own hands.
The trio of men who’d emerged from the building didn’t seem to agree with Barbie. They’d altered their course and charged straight at Bo.
“Knock it off!” Bo shouted. “I’m not here to fight you. Let’s just talk!”
“We gave you a chance to walk away,” the cowboy hat’s leader hollered as he charged at Bo.
“Fine,” Bo growled. “We’ll do it the hard way.”
The pitmaster raised one hand and fired his webs. The eerie, crawling sensation rushed up his arm, and a sticky spray erupted from his hand. It caught the leader and the man next to him, slamming them to the ground and trapping beneath its strands.
The third man hesitated, and Bo jabbed a finger at him. “Do not move.”
“I don’t want any trouble,” the man stammered, “but—”
“Bo!” Jenny shouted.
The cowboy hats had snared Jenny and were rushing off into the tall weeds with her slung between them. She struggled to free herself, but it didn’t look good for the feisty woman.
Black rage welled up in Bo. He didn’t want this fight, and he sure as hell wouldn’t stand by while his friends were dragged off to who knew where. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, and a new hand flashed through his mind’s eye.
Hackstorm and Danger Spice.
Not the best hand, but he could make it work. With his newly advanced core, Bo was faster than the cowboys, despite the treacherous terrain that tried to trip him up. His long legs ate up the distance as he sprinted off the road and crashed through the tall grass. The pitmaster expected a snake to rear up and strike him at any minute, but even the overgrown reptiles realized that would be a bad idea with the mood he was in.
Bo reached the men a moment later and activated his cards in a flurry. Two of the men holding Jenny’s neat screamed in surprise and dropped the rope to claw at their stinging eyes. The third and fourth men dropped the net, too, and raised their hand in defense. Unfortunately for them, the Hackstorm card was not in a merciful mood. Bo’s fists flashed like strokes of rubber-coated lightning, hammer all four of the men to the ground.
The crunch of his fists across chins helped ease Bo’s anger, but only a little. He grabbed the last man who fell and hauled him back to his feet by the front of his white-checked shirt. “Why did you attack us? We only came to talk!”
The man’s eyes rolled in their sockets, but he stammered out an answer.
“We had to,” he gasped. “They stole the Roast Beasts. Told us to bring tribute, or they'd feed it to their dogs.”
Bo lifted the man off his feet and shook him. “Who?”
“Don't kill me,” the man begged. “None of this was our idea. It was the dog men. You don’t know—”
“Where are they?” the pitmaster snarled. He was so mad he could hardly think straight. The sight or Jenny bound and being dragged off to who knew what fate had sent him over the edge. He’d find these dog men and cut their hearts out for daring to touch his people.
Bo, something’s not right.
“They came from the southwest,” the man whispered. ‘They’ll be back. Please, they can hear us. They’ll know I told you—”
The man suddenly shuddered, and blood ran from the corners of his eyes. He opened his mouth to scream.
And then he exploded.