Novels2Search
EndWalkers
Chapter 17: Meet Again (and Anew)

Chapter 17: Meet Again (and Anew)

[Player Log Start!]

[Log Holder: Verity Monroe]

[Level: 1]

Verity took the lead in bringing them over to this store Asadullah had described to them. She’d managed to track down his lemon-yellow footsteps, stark on the muddy ground.

“I can’t believe we left all our stuff back in the butchery.” Tench mourned, “What if someone comes in and takes all our stuff? My medical equipment is all stashed in there.”

“There wasn’t anything to be done about it.” Ben replied, her voice still muggy under her mask.

Verity let the argument roil behind them, her eyes ringed with red as she traced through the well-worn path, until it came to a large structure, wound tightly with vines and grass and all kinds of plants that she couldn’t identify.

The yellow footsteps and green vaporous trail both wound into an overhang on one side of the structure.

“-have adequate medical supplies in the Inventory?” Jared had entered the discussion now.

“It’s an interesting idea.” Michel agreed, thoroughly unaware of his surroundings.

“Everyone, get ready.” She warned, making them all snap to attention, “This is probably the grocery store Asadullah mentioned.”

It had been a shock to receive the Message from Asadullah, but once it had happened, she had resolved to chase this lead to the very end. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure how this place was supposed to be a grocery store.

“It’s more obvious from the other side, I think.” Ben explained, leaning to get a better look at the structure through the torrential rains.

“Let’s go in guns blazing, then.” She decided, reaching for another knife.

“Absolutely not.” Michael interjected, “You’re going to shoot the Console!”

“And the Zombie-Cure maker.” Tench added.

“You think this guy is legit?” Ben wondered. She was excited by this. Everyone could see that, the second she’d heard that Asadullah had found the Cure-Maker. Much more excited than she’d been when they had first been given the goal to look for s cure. Maybe because it was more real? Verity wasn’t sure.

“Let’s see.” Verity replied, brushing vines aside to get a better look at the window. She’d been planning to bust the window down, but was pleasantly surprised to find that there was a giant hole in the thick glass already. Wide enough for her to easily get through, if she didn’t mind sucking her gut in a little and risk a shard or twenty.

One by one, they all lined up and slipped into the window one by one. Inside, it was darker than outside, even though the rain meant it was already dark. There were simply shelves full of jars here, and nothing else. She stalked through the shelves, looking at them one by one in search of a shelve and- Zombie!

A zombie lunged out at her, flailing mindlessly. It didn’t get far, though, a thick chain wrapped around its neck kept it in a certain distance to the wall.

This creature, however, was huge. Bigger than any zombie she’d ever run into before. And its eyes, or what was left on them, seemed to be following the people around the room with remarkable precision.

“What the hell is this thing?” Michael whispered, creeping over to reach a hand towards the freaky zombie. Jared grabbed his wrist before he could ruin the rest of his life.

“Test subject, maybe?” Tench guessed, peering at it with interest. When he clicked his tongue, its head swiveled over to look at the healer. He whistled, “Hello.”

The jaw creaked open, and a gasp of gurgled air came out, “H- H- Lo.”

That… wasn’t normal. At all.

Verity froze up, as did everyone else in the room. It was Ben who reacted first, a hollow, high-pitched laugh that sent chills down the listeners’ spines.

“They did it.” She whispered, glee painted onto every part of her face, “Holy shit, they actually did it!”

“No, it’s not possible.” Verity cut down, as if she had any stake in the matter, “It’s just… mimicking. Like a parrot. You still have those, right?”

“Haven’t seen any in years, but I’d assume so, yes.” Tench agreed, “But if its mind is complex enough to recognize and repeat sounds in that manner, that’s still an incredible advancement.”

“Not that you would know.” Jared pointed out, “Given that you’ve never had close contact with any.”

“Yeah, not that I would know.” Tench nodded along.

Verity decided to turn her back on the zombie, with much difficulty. Whoever tied it up should have had the common sense to keep it as far away from the entrance as possible, which meant that the entrance had to be on the opposing wall. She intended to give it all a careful inspection, but before she could start on it, a panel was already sliding open, revealing a slouching figure of average stature, topped with those distinctive pair of cat ears.

Despite her better judgement, she felt herself unwinding just by looking at him. Seeing Asad, safe and sound, was like her body was finally relaxing. Letting her exit high-alert mode. It wasn’t only Asad, let’s be clear here. She’d felt this before, too, when everyone in [Party(Main)] was gathered in one place where she could see them.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

It never used to happen before the Game. Except with Jared.

She didn’t particularly dislike it.

“What’re you guys waiting for? Come in!” Asadullah waved them into the grocery store proper. Even the subtitles flickering in front of him as he spoke in the familiar twists of his own language was a relief to hear once more. She’d been half convinced that he was going to die the second they split paths.

They all walked in, Ben and Tench brushing off the worst of the glass off their coats. A quiet voice gasped in indignance as they scattered the glittery powder on the floor.

“What was that?” Verity asked, not even ashamed at the amount of venom injected into her voice. Her knife was in her hands, she’d never put it away, and now it was ready to stop whatever interloper was here, listening to their conversation.

Asadullah didn’t seem in the least bit put off by her defensiveness, simply giving her an easy smile as he stepped aside, revealing a short, slim, veritably (ha!) tiny teenager, dressed in a pastel pink hoodie and jean shorts that did nothing to offset how young they looked. That was Verity’s immediate impression: small, young, and the general frightened air of a puppy who knew it was about to be drowned.

“This is Terry!” Asadullah explained, waving his hands towards them excitedly, “I’d give him a bro hug to show how totally trustworthy he is, but I don’t think he likes hugs.”

This new Terry guy nodded sharply, eyes fixed on their neon-bright shoelaces, which Verity was put off by, because who even needed shoelaces in that color? She’d never seen true neon in her life before, and it was a thoroughly annoying color.

He moved his hands in a purposeful, jerky motion, almost like he was pantomiming a hug, and then a chopping sign. When that earned him a blank look, he had stumbled for a few seconds before whispered out, “No hugs, please.”

“See, what did I tell you?” Asadullah nodded, grinning widely at Terry, “But, either way, Terry’s the cure-maker I was telling you about!”

“No, you aren’t.” Jared interrupted, looking utterly disbelieving, “You’re barely even fifteen and you expect us to believe that you’re working on a cure for the zombie disease?”

“It’s actually more of an infection.” Terry corrected, looking like he was regretting it even as he said it, “And I’m nineteen.”

“No, you’re not.” Jared said again, eyes widening further than should be physically possible.

“Dude, let it go.” Ben sighed, grabbing him by the shoulder and dragging him down the hallway, “We don’t walk into people’s homes and start questioning their credentials.”

“Not unless you know what you’re talking about.” Tench corrected, popping up to look at Terry himself, “And I, for one, would love to know what your credentials are. Seventeen-year-old medical whiz would have had made waves all around the area. Why haven’t I ever heard of you?”

The boy looked like he was going to respond, but his mouth opened and shut soundlessly, and he struggled for a few moments, before going for more hand signs. This time, they managed to do them for just long enough that the Game must have caught onto the fact that they were trying to communicate.

[Languages Incompatible!]

[Preparing Subtitles…]

“-not doctor.” The signs finally managed to convey, as subtitles appeared below his deftly moving hands, “I just like studying mushrooms.”

“You’re a mycologist!” Tench realized, and Terry nodded excitedly.

“I’ve done some reading on bacteria and epidemiology using the books left here. But my talents lie in the field of fungi.” He explained, his words becoming faster and flowing more smoothly as they began to pace, leaving a stream of words in their wake, “Someone in the staff of this store must have been a med student.” He explained, “I used the textbooks they’d left behind – nasty stuff, can barely lift them anymore – and ran my own autopsies on the zombies to see what was going on in there. It’s all very amateur, but I think I’ve stumbled upon a solution.”

“And I’m excited to see you explain it.” Tench agreed, his voice shining with joy and relief, so happy that Verity half expected him to begin floating. Terry jumped a little, almost like he had forgotten they were there, in such a short time.

“But we’re very tired.” Ben jumped in, seeing her chance, “If you could give us some time and a place to rest…” She trailed off meaningfully.

Terry straightened up and nodded hurriedly, waving them towards the main part of the store and- woah. Verity froze so abruptly that Jared bumped into her.

“Are you okay?” He asked, peering over her shoulder to take in the view, “What’s wrong? This place looks pretty decked out, don’t you think? Almost as good as what he had in Epicenter.”

“For one person? This is way better than the Epicenter.” Michael whispered, staring at a rack of cured meats hanging from the ceiling.

“It’s been… troublesome to find ways to preserve everything.” Terry explained, and it seemed that the signs didn’t even need to be facing them for the translations to pop up, “It would be a relief if someone were to help me finish the surplus.”

“I’ll do it.” Jared and Michael agreed.

“I don’t think any of this meat is halal.” Asadullah mourned, “The chicken looks good, just not properly prepared.”

Terry turned all his attention onto Asadullah, clearly attached to his friend after their day and a half together, “Is ‘halal’ a type of meat preserving method to prevent bacterial growth? Will the meat’s edibility be compromised by it?” He asked insistently through trembling fingers, “I can fix it if you tell me what the problem is!”

“There’s no problem.” Asadullah laughed, “Just… a moral thing? A way of life. No pork and other such meats, but chicken and mutton and stuff has to be specially prepared too. Not being halal doesn’t make it not safe to eat.”

Terry nodded, already pulling out his notebook to jot it down. While he was doing so, he took the time to also excitedly write down a note to show Asadullah, which read, ‘Show me how to do it, I’ll figure something out.’

“This guy sure is a little miracle worker, isn’t he?” Jared noted from beside her, a twinkle in his eye, “Bet three biscuits he’s carrying a torch for our djinn-infested friend.”

“It’s been a day.” Verity objected, wrinkling her nose. She’d heard of quick falls, but that was too quick, wasn’t it? And she thought three weeks was pushing things.

“So?” Jared wiggled his eyebrows.

“…I’m not taking that bet.”

He laughed at her, but the humor died in his throat as he stared at the space Terry had brought them to. Mattresses. Snowy white mattresses, with fluffy pillows and thick duvets and bed sheets.

“There wasn’t a frame…” He started to explain in sign.

“It’s heaven.” Michael interrupted, moving past her to throw himself on one. There were enough for each of them. No sharing necessary. And when she sat on it, it was soft as sponge cake.

“We sure are moving up in the world.” Jared grinned at her. Verity nodded back, settling down into the softness that cradled her body like nothing ever had before.

Everyone was enjoying themselves, and yet her skin crawled in discomfort. If she had been put off by the butchery for being too much like civilization, this was… this was the thick of things. A shining beacon of normal that made her skin itch and blood sing.

Soon, she would end up ripping this place to shreds. She knew it, like she had known to believe that strange, strange boy in the desert.

[Player Log End!]