It turned out that most of the monsters were jackalopes. Jenny explained how the barbecue folks had formed a defensive perimeter and dealt with the little buggers in an efficient, fatal manner. Turned out that a bunch of barbecue folks armed with chef’s knives, cleavers, and other kitchen implements could put up a hell of a fight if their backs were to a wall.
“Y’all must have killed a hundred of these things,” Bo said, looking at the stack of pelts stacked in the center of camp.
“They just kept coming,” Jenny said. “Until just before dawn, when the last of the murder bunnies ran for the hills. Damnedest thing.”
“Be good eatin’,” Slick said, pointing to the row of active smokers lined up on the east side of the clearing at the campsite’s heart. “The smell of their cousins cooking should keep the other fuckalopes away, too.”
Satisfied that Bo wasn’t dead and didn’t have any pressing news to share, the other competitors returned to their campsites. They were still cleaning up from the carrion attack, a project that looked like it’d stretch out for a few more days, at least. It was always harder to put things back to right after some jerk messed them all up.
The pitmaster leaned in so no one else would overhear the question he asked Jenny. “What’s the status on all our happy campers?”
“No one died,” Jenny replied in a whisper. “We’ve got a hundred and four people here. Of those, we’ve got two broken arms, a dozen cuts that needed stitches, and twice that many that will almost certainly need antibiotics. No one’s out of commission, but that could change in a hurry if people run out of medicine.”
Bo scratched his chin and realized his beard was basically a ghastly blood clot at this point. He needed to find a bucket of water and a scrub brush before he started looking more like a monster than a man.
Too late. Those legs of yours are revolting. You need to worry more about controlling your hex than your appearance. You need defenses and armaments before the monsters attack again.
“Jenny said you’d know where to get antibiotics,” Slick said. “And the other stuff we need.”
“Jenny says a lot of stuff she probably shouldn’t,” Bo said. “What kind of medicine are you talking about?”
Jenny pulled a reporter’s notebook out of her back pocket and flipped its cover back. “Gertrude’s got a few days of heart medicine left. Bobby Sewell has enough insulin to get him through the next couple of weeks, but only if we can find a working refrigerator. We’ll need antibiotics a lot sooner than that. A few days, max.”
“And how do you know that?” Bo asked.
“Because Katy Hoskins is a nurse, Lonny Rizzo was a combat medic over in Afghanistan, and we’ve got a couple of EMTs who agree with those two.” Jenny leaned against Bo’s side to show him the list she’d made. “We also have a couple of carpenters, a plumber, and some other useful folks. We’ll figure out how to tackle whatever you have planned for us.”
“I don’t have anything planned,” Bo said.
“You’d better,” Slick said. “You’re the guy with the magical cards.”
Bo had never been in charge of anything more complicated than a food truck. Having all these people, most of whom were old enough to be his parents, even grandparents, looking at him for direction was daunting. Especially because he knew the only reason they trusted him as a leader was because of his old man’s reputation and a deck of deadly cards dealt to him by the unseen hand of fate.
What you want matters not at all. Lead these people, or your hex is doomed. The jackalopes will come again. And there are more dangerous things here. Secure this hex before enemies attack and roll through your pathetic little caravan of cooks like a tornado.
The pitmaster didn’t like it, but he knew the devil was right. These people needed a leader, and the deck had put that on his shoulders. Just because he’d never led didn’t mean he couldn’t.
“Okay,” Bo said. “The Red River Casino’s kind of a one-stop shop for stuff out here. They have an urgent care clinic and a pharmacy. I can look for medical supplies in there.”
“You think there’ll be more people at the casino?” Slick asked.
“I hope so. Be nice if we weren’t all alone in this mess. While I’m checking that place out, have everyone else circle the wagons,” Bo said. “We want the biggest RVs on the outside, pickups and trailers inside that ring, and tents in the middle. Stagger the vehicles around the outside to slow down any other monsters who come calling.”
“You sure we should risk our vehicles like that?” Slick asked. “We’ll need ‘em to get out of here.”
Tell them. If they think they can just run off, you’ll have a mutiny on your hands in no time. And then you will have to execute several of them to solidify your position as their leader.
Bo wasn’t about to execute any of his fellow competitors, but the devil had a solid point. He didn’t want to panic anyone, but if he didn’t tell them about the barrier some of them would try to leave. Letting them scatter would be as much of a death sentence as hanging them. There was strength in numbers.
“Yeah, about that,” Bo said. “Let’s have a chat with the rest of the crew.”
The pitmaster put his fingers in the corner of his mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle that drew the attention of the other competitors. He motioned for them to gather up, then cupped his hands around his mouth to make sure they could all hear him.
“Listen up,” Bo yelled, then lowered one hand to point at the blue wall near the Red River. Even in the daylight and at this distance, the flickering surface was plain to see. “There’re walls all around us. You can’t get through them.”
Cries of alarm erupted from the gathering. Some of them even raised the weapons they’d used to kill the jackalopes. Bo saw a handful of pistols and a shotgun or ten.
But only Jenny fired a shot.
The blast from her shotgun wasn’t as loud as it should have been, and instead of grey-blue smoke, a pitch-black cloud burst into the air. The sudden spectacle silenced the crowd.
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“Listen to the man,” she said, nudging Bo with an elbow. “No sense in losing your marbles over crap you can’t change.”
She gave Bo a meaningful nod, and he knew it was time to give these people a rousing speech. He’d seen this in movies a hundred times. Unfortunately, he was not as inspiring as that guy who’d played the President in Independence Day.
Still, his old man had shared as much wisdom as he’d had with Bo, and some of that seemed applicable right then.
“None of us asked for this,” Bo said. “Heck, look at the messes I’ve got for legs. Believe it or not, though, they were a lot worse last night than they are now. And, as long as I’m careful and don’t do anything stupid, they’ll be fine by the end of the day. I’ll get through it.
“And we’ll get through this mess, too. Together. We just have to make a plan, stick to it, and don’t do anything stupid.”
“That’ll be awful hard for some of us,” an old guy with a trucker’s cap perched on his bald head said with a rueful grin.
“Just listen to Bo,” Jenny replied, grinning at the older man. “I won’t let him lead us astray. Now hop to it. Let’s get those wagons circled up before the magical bunny parade comes around for a second shot at us.”
Bo repeated his idea about how to position the vehicles for maximum protection, and was gratified when he got mostly nods of agreement. Sure, there were a few of the older folk who didn’t enjoy taking orders from a guy as young as Bo, but his father’s reputation cast a long shadow that afforded the young pitmaster some grace. Slick took off to help coordinate their defenses, leaving Bo to ponder what was to come.
He could do this. It wouldn’t be easy, but Bo would get through it. But he wouldn’t be able to do it alone.
“I should make you my lieutenant or something,” Bo said to Jenny. “Or co-captain. Something.”
“You’re sweet, but thick,” Jenny said. “I can help you, but don’t make it official. These folks are all good at heart, but they don’t look at me the same way they used to. I’m different from most of them.”
“I’m not thick,” he said. “And you’re not as different as you think.”
“That’s what I mean,” she said with a warm grin. “You’re thick, in the best way. You don’t see me the way they do. I like that.”
“And how do they see you?” Bo teased. “The snotty red-head who stirs up trouble everywhere she goes?”
“Nah, not anymore,” Jenny said, her smile a little sad. “To you, I’m just another gal slinging brisket and getting you into trouble. To them, I’m the rich girl whose daddy’s paid for everything she ever wanted. I’ve heard the whispers at other competitions. Some of these folks resent me, at least a little. They say I don’t deserve to win, that smoke’s not in my blood.”
“These circuit regulars talk smack about everyone,” Bo said.
“Not about your daddy,” she said. “Or you. That deck didn’t land in your hand by accident, Bo. This is how myths start. No matter what you believe, you were born to carry those cards. It’s your destiny.”
And with that, Jenny walked off, leaving Bo stunned by her words. How could this be his destiny? All he’d ever wanted was to cook brisket so good it made his old man proud.
Stop gawping like that. It makes you look like the simpleton you are.
“Shut up,” Bo muttered as he headed up the small hill to his campsite. He wanted to see if his smoker had survived the Night of the Jackalopes. “I saw the kind of deck you had. Servant.”
Lies. I was a warrior. The system doesn’t understand devilish rankings.
“Keep telling yourself that,” Bo said with a chuckle. He was careful to keep his voice low, so the rest of the camp didn’t think the guy they depended on had lost his marbles. “You can admit you weren’t a general in the devil army, Barbie. I don’t really care.”
I may not have been a general in my people’s army, but I know more about what’s happening than you. Listen to me, and you may survive. Or keep taunting me and find out how long you’ll last without my expert guidance.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Bo said as he surveyed the damage done by the jackalopes. “We’re tied at the hip. If something terrible happens to me, I’ll be swept off to Demon Dongledork’s Secret Pleasure Paradise for an eternity of bad touches. But I won’t go alone.”
Don’t be a fool. My spirit is inhabiting your body. But when your flesh is inevitably scourged away, I will pass on to the afterlife.
“Maybe,” Bo said. “But you were awful eager to get into my body on that bridge. Which leads me to believe that you aren’t in any big hurry to go on to your eternal reward.”
Do you have some obtuse point you’re trying to make?
“Neither of us wants to die,” Bo said. “We’re survivors, Barbie. And we want to keep surviving. So drop the attitude and give me your opinions on how to protect these people from the monsters.”
Your best bet is to gather more cards. That would be simple if there were a link to the Grail System marketplace in this hex. Since there is not, you will need to defeat monsters to gain more cards. That will also earn you crypt currency that can purchase cards once you find the marketplace.
“Hunting down packs of jackalopes seems like a losing proposition,” Bo mused as he looked for salvage in his campsite.
The old man’s smoker was completely trashed. The heavy black contraption’s sides were gouged and perforated. The lid was torn off, and the firebox was missing. The jackalopes had even taken the chimney off to who-knows-where, leaving a gaping hole in the smoker’s far end. If Bo didn’t know the animals were too stupid for such advanced concepts as revenge, he would have sworn the little bastards had desecrated the smoker just to upset him.
Disheartened by the loss of his father’s most prized possession, Bo took a deep breath to get hold of his temper before he stormed off in search of jackalopes to hack apart.
They are vile creatures. Hunting them down would be a service to this doomed world. But, you are likely right. Searching for them in the wilderness will leave your people undefended from larger predators. Of which I am sure there are many.
“That’s comforting,” Bo said. He took another deep breath, let the anger go, and moved his search to the battered food truck’s interior.
Which was a complete disaster. A bunch of jackalopes had gotten inside and tore the place apart. Cabinet doors were ripped off their hinges and their contents strewn about the place. The refrigerator was punched full of holes, and even the damned ceiling looked like someone had fired a hundred rounds of buckshot into it. Peanut oil from the fry basket covered the floor, making it a treacherous mess. Bo decided the food truck was a lost cause and chose not to risk a busted neck searching for anything to salvage.
“Let’s say the jackalopes attack the camp again, and my people kill them,” Bo said. “Is there any chance they’ll find crypt coins or cards when they search the bodies?”
No. Those who are not recognized players in the Grail Game cannot find system treasures. They can still strip the bodies for pelts and meat, but they won’t ever find cards.
“What if they kill the murder rabbits, and I search the bodies?” Bo asked.
You may only search your own kills for treasure. That is one of the core tenets of the Grail Game. Otherwise, champions would hire armies of mercenaries to hunt monsters for them.
“You’re just full of good news,” Bo said. He turned his back on his ruined campsite and put his hands on his hips. “Roaming the countryside in search of monsters is out. But I need to kill monsters to get more cards. Waiting around for beasties to attack the camp seems like a bad idea. Any idea where I could find a bunch of monsters to kill?”
A dungeon would be the fastest way to gain cards. Dungeons often form near large concentrations of native life, so if you know of any places that held a lot of humans before the incursion…
Bo’s eyes drifted across the plains to the enormous structure to the north. Its once-blazing billboards were dead, black squares. But a sea of gleaming windshields shone beneath the sun in that direction.
A lot of windshields.
Bo wasn’t sure if this was good news or bad. He was headed to the casino, anyway, but had hoped salvaging medicine and other supplies from there would be a cake walk. That no longer seemed the case. Barbie had told Bo the hex’s focal dungeon was about three miles from the bridge. And if dungeons formed where a lot of people gathered, then the casino was almost certainly one.
“I bet these dungeons are just chock full of badness,” Bo said.
Oh, yes. They are brimming with monsters, traps, and other methods of destruction. They are designed to destroy champions. Going into one at your current core level is foolhardy. But I do not see another option for you at this juncture.
“Great,” Bo said. “Just great.”