Jaw clenched and heart pounding, Errol kept his head on a swivel while helping his girl limp back to camp.
With the sun still setting in the south, it provided light enough to cast the quiet town of Pleasant dunes in shifting shadows, ones which played cruel tricks on Errol’s hyperactive imagination. Any moment now, he expected droves of armed thugs and angry town folk to come streaming out into the streets in demand of Howie’s head, and Heaven help him, Errol couldn’t blame them one bit. It was such a stupid and avoidable fight, one that somehow turned to shooting because the Firstborn wanted it that way, and Sarah Jay had gotten clipped in the process. The Heroism Spell he cast in the aftermath of the scuffle left him with a rising tide of anger which washed away all other emotions, and as he prepared for the worst, he directed it all at Howie. Man couldn’t even sit down for a meal without picking a stupid fight. Jealousy is what it was, seeing that working girl Noora with another client, that’s what drove Howie to spout off that appalling story about hanging a man outside a saloon window in hopes of starting a fight.
There was no doubt in Errol’s mind that Howie had really done everything he said, or at least something close to that effect. Might not have been a man twin to the fat, greasy man on the stairs, but the Firstborn most certainly hung a man out a window without due process or legal authorization, then shot him in the leg just to watch him die. Probably got away with it clean too, using those connections Wayne mentioned before, skirting justice on some technicality or the other. That’s who the Firstborn really was, a scheming and manipulative killer who wandered the Frontier by his lonesome to satisfy his own dark urges to commit murder by goading others into an attack, and tonight, he almost got Sarah Jay killed for it. Wasn’t fear which had Errol so twisted up inside, but the sheer indignation and exasperation to have been dragged in alongside Howie’s sadistic games, and the resentment ate away at him from the inside.
What only made it all the more frustrating was how no one else seemed to feel the same way, not even Sarah Jay. Soon as she got back to camp and looked over by the medics, she got to going on and on about how incredible the Firstborn was while sharing the story with the other boots. “You shoulda seen it,” she said, her bright brown eyes all aglow as she narrated the tale for her captive audience. “Happened in the blink of an eye. Sasquatch back there draws quick as a blink, and I kid you not, Howie’s Force Barrier pops up as the Bolt is hurtling towards him. Next thing I know, Sasquatch is on the ground, and I got a sharp, stinging pain in my leg and no earthly idea how it got there.” Rolling up her jeans to display the deep red bruise the size of a quarter on her shin for all to see. “That’s through an Aegis too, and I could barely keep my head upright, but Howie? He took one to the chest through his Barrier and is perched up on his chair, all couched and ready with finger on the trigger and a bead on Sasquatch’s head as Captain Jung takes charge. Settles them thugs with nothin’ more than steel gaze and a stern word she does, calm and cool as can be. Lays down the law and tells ‘em we’re takin’ Sasquatch in, and if they don’t like the sound of Federal Justice, then she’ll unleash the Firstborn to exact Frontier Justice instead.”
Slapping her leg with a fetching grin, Sarah Jay waited for her words to sink in as the crowd murmured amongst themselves, every one of them grinning and shaking their heads in silent admiration. Then she continued, “Sent a chill down my spine it did, seeing Howie grin and pull out his twin dubsies again, except he ain’t so polite this time around. Got his Mage Hands pointin’ them Blastguns right at them thugs like he fixin’ to kneecap them, and they all scurry out the saloon in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Then, get this, Howie holsters up, pats his hands, and turns to the waitress to ask how much longer on his steak and potates, like it wasn’t nothin’ but a schoolyard scuffle.” That got the crowd to laughing, and many looked over to the medic’s tent, where they could see Howie sitting shirtless getting poked and prodded by the trainees while Tina looked on, with a big, red bruise same as Sarah Jay’s, except his was right over his heart.
Burned Errol to see them admiring a remorseless killer like Howie. If not for Captain Jung, he’d have killed all nine of those men tonight, gunned them down where they stood and probably finished his meal with the bodies still there. It was unconscionable at the very least, unethical and immoral to be sure, even if it might not have been illegal. Sure, the big, hairy man fired first, but only after Howie pushed him to it, threatening to hang the fat, greasy man out the window then insinuating that the only reason they were still breathing was the presence of the Rangers themselves. Howie outright admitted that he cared nothing for the Accords, and his actions proved that he’d intended to incite the other group to violence, else how’d he have his Second Order Force Barrier ready to go right away? The worst part was, Captain Jung had allowed it, played along like Howie was some big hero and the people riding to the defense of Pleasant Dunes were all killers and criminals.
Sure they looked like a rough bunch, and they’d gotten up in Captain Jung’s face this afternoon, but they’d only just narrowly escaped death and lost more than a dozen comrades in the process. Errol could hardly blame them for getting heated, but they hadn’t actually crossed any lines. Howie was the one pushing them, egging them on with his stories and asking outright why Captain Jung hadn’t slaughtered them all out of hand with a Fireball instead of warning them off with a Minute Meteor. That’s how his thought process worked; no mercy, no goodwill, no grace or tolerance to be had. The moment someone crossed him, Howie’s brain got to working on how to kill them, simple as that.
Monstrous was being generous. A Devil is what Howie was, and he straight up admitted it, but no one besides Errol seemed to have a problem with it.
Well, Wayne knew the Firstborn for what he was, but he wasn’t here in camp. Captain Clay had stationed Wayne and the rest of the Rangers up in the mountains. Supposedly to guard the mineshafts, but having seen how Captain Jung enabled Howie’s murderous inclinations, it wouldn’t surprise Errol to learn Captain Clay was the same way. Maybe this was more of his extrajudicial ways, that Frontier Justice they all seemed to love so much, an excuse to ignore due process and accountability when enforcing the law and satisfy their own murderous urges.
All of which had Errol in a foul mood when Captain Jung came by to break up the crowd and check in on Sarah Jay. After a few sparse words of praise for his girl, the Captain turned to Errol with a glower. “You’ve picked up a lot of bad habits in a few short weeks young man,” she began, eyeing him up and down as he stood at attention, and it was all he could do to keep himself from glaring back. “Turning your back on enemy combatants before the fight is done? Even a combat medic in full insignia shouldn’t be so lax with their own defense, because the Geneva Conventions won’t bring you back from the dead.”
“...Sir yes sir.” Wasn’t any point lashing out at the Captain, so Errol simply accepted the criticism and let it wash over him, because better to save a life than to take one in anger. Captain Jung sensed his silent opposition all the same and eyed him for a long moment, but he stood firm and didn’t waver in his conviction. Theirs was a silent argument, because he didn’t trust himself to speak, lest he say something he regretted to a woman he respected and admired. He was still grateful for everything she’d done, reaching out after he was washed out to see about getting him back on his feet, though it rankled to now know she had the power to keep it from happening in the first place. She simply chose not to use that power, because she thought he wasn’t worth the effort at the time, and now she did for some reason or another. Probably because of Sarah Jay. No one expected her to drop out at the time, not even Errol, and she’d done it out of sheer love and nothing else.
“…Do you know why I let Howie do what he did?” The question came seemingly out of nowhere, a curveball Errol wasn’t expecting from the taciturn, no-nonsense Captain Jung. “Goad those Vanguard National thugs into starting a fight?”
Errol had a good idea why, though he didn’t see any point in saying it out loud, or asking what made them thugs besides belonging to a group who didn’t recognized Federal authority. So instead, he answered, “Sir, to protect the girl, Noora, who claims she is sixteen but is unlikely to be of age, sir.”
“At ease, boot.” Nodding, Captain Jung sighed. “That is part of it yes, though not the whole answer. I did it because the people of this town have forgotten what it’s like to live under the rule of law, rather than beholden to the whims of their employer.” Seeing the confusion in his eyes, Captain Jung took a beat to go back and explain from the start. “Your hometown started as a field hospital established by the Métis Nationale, whereas New Hope was a settlement founded by Federal Rangers led by Marshal Ellis. Areas like those are what’s known as governed territories, and within those territories, the rule of law is upheld by their government authorities. Every settlement you saw or visited along the way falls under that category, lands within which some semblance of law and order prevails. The Sherrif’s uphold the law according to the Accords and their government’s interpretation of it, while judges hold court to preside over legal proceedings and carry out sentencing. As for the Rangers, our task is merely to provide manpower whenever asked, no more no less. Even within Federal territory, we lack the authority to make arrests or charge individuals with civilian crimes without a Sherrif’s warrant. This division of responsibility is to prevent our soldiers from being used as a weapon against the very people we are supposed to protect, except in the case wherein their duly elected officials make a request. The system isn’t perfect, but it’s what we got, and it works well enough most of the time. With me so far?”
Errol nodded without thinking, because it all seemed so cut and dry that he couldn’t see what the Captain was getting at. She simply nodded back before turning away to look out at the town. “So even if Pleasant Dunes were a Federal settlement, which it isn’t, there is nothing we could do regarding the violations we see here, not directly. All we can do is pass the information along to a Sherrif, who may then request our assistance in an official capacity.” Pausing, Captain Jung added, “Or they may choose not to, which will likely be the case here in Pleasant Dunes. Putting aside the fact that they had five known murderers and rapists serving as their Sherrif and deputies, this town is neither a governed territory nor is it a settlement in the sense of the word you’re familiar with. It’s a company town, meaning everything you see here is company property. The company staked a claim on these lands and paid labourers a wage to gather materials and build these walls, a business going by the name of Vanguard National. This means that the people who live here in town own no part of it, because it was all bought and paid for by the company. Aside from the company owner, Ronald Jackson, and his business partners, everyone else you see in town is merely an employee, including those thugs proudly sporting the company name and logo.”
“So Ronald Jackson is like the town mayor or something?” Errol wasn’t quite sure why it mattered, because even if no one owned the land, they were still living and working here all the same.
“Sure, if your town mayor was a morally corrupt despot with an army of well-armed and well-trained thugs to do his bidding.” There was no heat in Captain Jung’s voice, like she was just stating the facts, but there was a fire in her eyes that gave her anger away. “On the surface, there’s nothing inherently wrong with anything I just said. It’s all very legal and very normal, until you look at the bigger picture. The Coral Desert is considered an Aberration hotspot, meaning civilian travel is considered highly dangerous and ill-advised. This means that once they started working here, the people of this town had only the company to depend on. They cannot choose to pick up and leave whenever they want because of the Aberration threat, and the company is under no compulsion to offer them safe passage out. Add in the fact that the corporation is the only source of food, water, and anything else they might need to survive, and you see that their very lives are dependant on the company in more ways than one. Refuse to work, and the company either fires them and kicks them out of town, stops providing necessary services, or simply pulls out with all the guns and ammo, leaving the townsfolk unable to defend themselves against Aberration attacks.”
Every sentence was like a punch to the gut as Errol took it all in and saw things in a new light. If that was true, then the people here were little better than slaves, but he didn’t understand what that had to do with Howie’s behaviour. “If you know all this,” Errol began, speaking before he thought it through, “Then why doesn’t someone arrest the owner of the company?”
“For what crime?” Lips pressed together in a snarl, the Captain heaved a sigh and said, “There’s nothing in the Accords to charge Vanguard National’s president Ronald Jackson with, not even if you had the proper authority to do so. He employs these people, who are technically free to come and go as they please. The only thing stopping them from leaving is Aberration attacks, which he cannot be held accountable for, nor is the company required to provide protection to travellers or even sell weapons and transportation. There’s nothing in the Accords that says he must provide his workers with anything besides food, water, ‘fair’ compensation and ‘adequate’ protection from Aberrations and the elements alike. The town walls and towers more than satisfy that last requirement, and on paper, I’d bet most of these miners are paid a decent wage, only to have most of that money go back to the company in return for things like clothes, toiletries, bedrolls, and other ‘luxuries’ not covered by the Accords.”
“What about Noora then?” Errol asked. “Employing a minor in brothel is most certainly a crime.”
“One that doesn’t fall under military jurisdiction.” Giving him a look that was both patient and resigned, Captain Jung said, “It’s a civil crime, meaning it falls under the purview of the local Sherrif’s office, but considering their last Sheriff was a convicted murderer and rapist with a sizable cash bounty on his head, it’s safe to assume that the next Sherrif will likely also be in Vanguard National’s pocket and utterly uninterested in biting the hand that feeds them.”
If the Accords were really so useless and easily thwarted, it’s no wonder so many people were fans of Frontier Justice, but Captain Jung wasn’t done just yet. “You know what the worst part is?” she asked, her tone filled with fury and indignation as she swept her gaze across town. “The fact that they’ve been at this life for so long, they’ve forgotten what decent human society looks like. What we’ve seen so far is what they deemed good enough to show a Company of American Rangers and their recruits. This is their sanitized version of Pleasant Dunes, meaning they all thought no one would blink twice at seeing a girl as young as Noora working in a brothel, or people sleeping in the sands with nothing besides a cloth awning overhead, or children sitting around all day with nothing to do, because they’d normally be working down in the mines. They see us as a disruption to their ‘normal’ way of a life, a lot they’ve accepted and cling onto because it’s better than how things used to be, and that’s good enough for them. In their eyes, we’re the enemy, a necessary nuisance here to help them against Abby, and they’re all counting down the days until we leave so they can get back to life as usual.”
The Captain stood stock still and stared out across town, and Errol used this time to try and make sense of it all. On the surface, Pleasant Dunes looked like a well defended, albeit incomplete little mining town at the base of the Snake Fang Mountain Range, and he assumed things like houses, schools, and whatnot would be coming soon enough. The people were a bit surly and cheerless, but they were fed and clothed, so he didn’t think twice about their ‘temporary’ housing. Was curious how the town had so many powerful, fast-firing gatling guns, but he figured defense was a top priority out here in the Abby infested Coral Desert, where Howie could ride out for a day and come across a horde of two-hundred plus orcs and goblins just scurrying about. Now though? If what Captain Jung said was true, then this mysterious Ronald Jackson who Errol thought was the towns mayor was a monster beyond compare. Except… what did any of that have to do with setting Howie loose on those Vanguard National thugs and arresting their leader?
A question Errol asked in more polite terms, but the general meaning didn’t escape Captain Jung. Or Sarah Jay, who he sensed tensing up at his side and imagined was frowning quite a bit, but he couldn’t deal with her hero worship just yet. Instead, he stood firm before Captain Jungs inquiring gaze, no doubt gleaning something of Errol’s newfangled distaste for the Firstborn. Rather than ask about it though, she simply shrugged and said, “Baby steps. Howie understands men like them, has watched his father deal with them all his life and done well enough on his own these last two years. He’s something the thugs of Vanguard National and the people of Pleasant Dunes recognize and understand, a survivor in this dog-eat-dog world who won’t be pushed around. So I set him loose, and hoped I could rein him in to remind the people of this god-forsaken town how life is supposed to be, as opposed what they’ve come to accept. Had I wiped out all those thugs this afternoon like Howie wanted, then that would have put the Rangers in firm opposition of Vanguard National, and the townsfolk would have likely sided against us. Too much of their lives and identities are intertwined with the company, because for years, their survival has been dependant on it, and so any threat to the company becomes a threat to them.” Shaking her head, Captain Jung concluded, “I’m trying to show them otherwise. Tarnish the image of Vanguard National bit by bit and make these people see that the company isn’t as all-powerful and all-authoritative as they once thought, so that maybe some of them will be convinced them to pick up and leave alongside us once the Aberration threat is brought back under control.”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“That’s it?” Errol asked, so surprised by the Captain’s explanation he couldn’t help but blurt out, “We’re just gonna pick up and go, leaving the company to continue it’s abuse and exploitation?”
“Within the bounds of Federal law and the Accords, that is all we can do,” Captain Jung replied, her eyes showing that she didn’t like it anymore than he did, but was helpless to act. “There’s more to it than jurisdictional nonsense and bureaucratic red tape. There are political angles to consider, because Pleasant Dunes sits in Independent territory, which is an officially recognized status under the Accords. One made necessary by the fact that there was no guarantee an individual settler’s land claim would fall within the governed territory of their home nation, and to prevent the annexation of an unwilling settler’s efforts by a foreign government. Since our arrival on the Frontier, many criminals have utilized this extra-judicial status to avoid government law enforcement, but there are plenty of legitimate Independent factions in the surrounding area, as well as more scattered throughout the Frontier. If the Rangers overstep our government mandate by arresting or executing Ronald Jackson without a clear and gross violation of the Accords that falls within our limited purview, then we’ll incur the ire of all Independents and the old world governing bodies who recognize their authority.” Seeing Errol was still not convinced, Captain Jung frowned and added, “Though laws and the Accords restrict what we can do, that sort of oversight is necessary so that men like Ronald Jackson can’t take control of the Rangers the way he controls his Vanguard National thugs. That adherence to the Accords and the American Constitution is all that separates us from him. A lesson Howie has yet to learn, and one you would do well not to forget, Mr. Dillard.”
With that, Captain Jung ended their talk with a nod of her head before marching away, leaving Errol to wallow in a mire of confusion, disappointment, and anger. It was like getting washed out all over again, a bunch of factors that came together to say ‘this isn’t fair, but is what it is’, and that wasn’t good enough anymore. He could stomach it well enough when it was his own suffering, but now they were saying he had to leave others to suffer their fate and do nothing about it? That he could not abide.
Thankfully, Sarah Jay didn’t say anything, just took his hand and squeezed to let him know she was there, but he didn’t want to talk it through just yet. He knew she’d come down on Howie’s side, and he didn’t want to get into that here and now. Instead, he gave her a grateful smile and helped her back to their sleeping area, one laid out close to the wagon and next to where Howie was munching on cold travel rations with Tina seated right next to him, and the two were in the midst of a heated discussion. “….so you hang onto that Shield bracer from here on out,” Tina was saying, her tone harsh despite her hushed volume. “Don’t be pushin’ it onto me when you the one gettin’ shot at every other day.”
“Week,” Howie corrected, and it was clear he wasn’t taking any of this seriously. It was all a big joke to him, and that was fine so long as he was risking his own neck. Tonight though, he put Sarah Jay and the rest of them at risk too, and Errol wasn’t about that. “Ain’t getting shot at that often now.” Turning to smile at them as they passed, Howie asked, “How’s the leg, Jay? Can it bear your weight?”
“Medics said best not to in case there’s a hairline fracture,” Sarah Jay replied, only to grunt as Errol helped her sit down in the sand. “Too tender right now to really tell just yet. Mind usin’ your Mould Earth Cantrip to build me something to rest my leg on while I sleep?”
“Sure thing.” Howie was there in a heartbeat, muttering something under his breath to set the sands to gathering under his hand. It was like watching the wind blow away at a small mound of sand, only in reverse as he shaped the sand beneath his hand the way a potter would shape wet clay. Didn’t take him more than two minutes to put together a raised bed of firm sand big enough for two with an elevated perch to support Sarah Jay’s leg from knee to foot. Even carved out a recessed area next to it so she could keep her legs close together, and thoughtful as it was, Errol couldn’t help but be annoyed it’d taken getting shot at to get Howie to help them sleep more comfortably through the night. It was a small, minor thing, one so trivial it wasn’t worth even caring about, but it was still there all the same. “They hit you with a Minor Regeneration?” Howie asked, gesturing at Errol to help Sarah Jay over to the bed of sand. “I got one from a boot, and was told a bruise ain’t worth the Material component cost of a Ritual Prayer of Healing.”
Neither of which would do much in the short term, as both Spells merely encouraged the body’s natural recovery abilities. Minor cuts and scrapes might clear up within a day with a single application of the First Order Minor Regeneration, but bruises would require multiple castings over the course of a week to clear them up any quicker. As Father Nicolas explained it, the Spell would accomplish in 30 seconds what the body usually needed hours to heal, but repeated castings in quick succession would have inversely exponential results. Had to do with the limits of the human body and how certain processes could only be hurried along so much before risking defects and malformations like painful scar tissue, mis-aligned bones, embedded foreign debris, cancerous growths, or even Corrupted flesh from overexposure to Aetheric Energies. No chance of any of that with a possible hairline fracture and bruise, but it was still something to be concerned about in general.
“Yea, I got one too,” Sarah Jay replied, settling her leg on the perch and laying back to rest. “Glad I finished my plate though. Already feelin’ peckish, so I can only imagine how it is for you.”
“Ah, ain’t so bad,” Howie replied. “You want some jerky? So soft there’s barely a chance you’ll chip a tooth.”
Sarah Jay laughed. “Nah hoss, you keep that for yourself. Could do with a hot breakfast come morning though. Got the feeling I’ll be mighty peckish.”
“You and me both. We done been 86ed from the saloon, and I’m fresh outta bacon and biscuits, but I’ll scrounge somethin’ up.” Howie stuck around to banter a bit more and make sure Sarah Jay was okay, but never got around to apologizing for getting her shot over a senseless argument he had no cause to start in the first place. That soured Errol quite a bit, but again, he didn’t say anything, because he knew Sarah Jay wouldn’t agree with his point of view. Was really starting to weigh on him, this inability to express how he felt about Howie without Sarah Jay leaping to the Firstborn’s defense.
No doubt she’d go on about how Howie was trying to save young Noora from her wretched fate, but Errol didn’t buy it. No, if the Firstborn was so concerned about an underaged sex worker, why’d he go and pay for her services to begin with? Man couldn’t even bother to come up with a proper excuse, just said they played cat’s cradle despite coming down those stairs half-dressed. Disgusting is what it was, and it showed Howie’s true colours. He didn’t care about Noora. Not like that. No, he was probably just sweet on her and couldn’t stand seeing her with another client, even though he knew what she was going in. Far as Errol was concerned, Howie wasn’t much better than the thugs themselves, with the only difference being he liked to pretend he was one of the good guys and made sure to have proper justification for all his crimes.
The only problem now was convincing Sarah Jay of the truth, a question Errol pondered while lying next to his girl. Howie’s daddy might’ve been a good man who saved her life, but Howie was actively endangering it, dragging her into these dangerous situations engineered to paint him as a victim so he could justify lethal self defense.
“Hey, got a visitor, Firstborn.” The voice belonged to a boot named Edmundo, though everyone called him big Ed. Next to the stocky, South-American was Noora herself, who looked awfully shook as she stood there hugging herself with one arm. “Captain says you offered to help her, so she’s your responsibility.” Giving Howie a wink, big Ed added, “Lucky you. When’s it my turn to save the damsel in distress?”
“I’m sure you’ll come across one soon enough,” Howie replied, standing up with notebook in hand while Errol did the same, mostly to make sure the Firstborn would actually look after the girl. “Thanks Edmundo!” Howie added a bit of Spanish flair to the name, which got the other boot laughing as he headed back to his post. “Hey Noora,” Howie said. “How you holdin’ up?”
“F-fine,” Noora stuttered, moving closer to Howie who took a step away rather than hug the poor girl, shivering girl who seemed woefully underdressed and ready to burst into tears. Probably overcompensating because he wanted Tina to believe he didn’t pay to have sex with Noora, when he clearly did. “T-there was a lot of arguing, some y-yelling and s-screaming. Heard my name a few times, and didn’t think it’d be s-safe to stay.” Falling back on her charms, Noora shared a sad and lovely smile, her doe eyes fixed on the Firstborn because she bought into his lies too. “You said to come find you if I needed food and protection, so here I am. Not gonna send me away, are you?”
Heartbreaking is what it was, and though Howie said all the right things and behaved like the perfect, sympathetic gentlemen, Errol knew it was likely because Tina was watching. After a couple questions and answers, Howie set Noora up with a bunk inside his wagon, as well as some clothes borrowed from Kacey, since there was no way Noora would fit in Tina or Sarah Jay’s clothes. Soon after, Howie behaved himself and settled in to sleep on his bed of raised sand with baby Cowie nestled in his arms, and Errol fell asleep while trying to make sense of this senseless world. Felt like he only just closed his eyes when Sarah Jay shook him awake and handed him a steaming plate of beans, canned luncheon meat, and something that looked an awful lot like the prickly cacti plants dotting the dunes outside, only grilled and cut up into bite sized pieces.
Errol had eaten far worse though, so he sat up and dug in, only to realize a few seconds later that Noora was sitting across from him with her own plate balanced on her lap. “Oh hi Noora,” he said, still not wholly awake. “I’m Errol.”
“Oh I know,” Noora replied, with a smile that was a bit too playful and mischievous for Errol’s comfort. At least she was wearing a button up shirt and long pants this time, instead of baring her shoulder and legs for all to see. “You’re Jay’s hunk of handsome man chocolate.” Licking her lips as she eyed him in a most unladylike way, she added, “Well, if the shoe fits…”
“Don’t it though?” Handing him a cup of chicory coffee, Jay snuggled up against him with a smile that warmed him up inside, even though she usually got jealous when other girls looked at him like that. “Noora and Tina helped me over to the medics already,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee before spearing a slice of meat to go with it. “Got me a clean bill of health too. Still hurts to walk, but I can eke out a hobble if I hafta, and they hit me with another Minor Regeneration to speed things along.”
“That’s great to hear.”
“Even better news is I got me a pass on trench diggin’ duty, on account of needin’ to convalesce right here in camp.” Beaming prettily as she sat there all pleased as can be, Sarah Jay took a few bites of her breakfast before continuing, “So you’ll be all on your lonesome today. Think you can manage without me?”
Hopefully, but Errol simply nodded and said, “I’ll be counting the seconds.”
“Good answer.”
Giving him a look meant to ask if he was doing alright, Sarah Jay waited for his answer, but Errol wasn’t as well-versed in nonverbal communication as she was. How do you say, ‘struggling a bit, but I can’t talk about it because you wouldn’t get it’ without saying a word or giving offense? Instead, he shrugged and smiled as best he could, knowing he wasn’t fooling her one bit. To keep things from getting awkward, he turned to their audience and asked, “So how’d you sleep?”
“Better than I have in a long time,” Noora replied, so frank and forthright it surprised even her. “That’s one cozy armoured wagon the Firstborn’s got there, and those blankets? Never felt anything half as soft.”
“That’d be the wally wool,” Sarah Jay supplied, and then the two girls were off, chatting about this and that while leaving Errol to eat his breakfast in peace. The topic of discussion went from New Hope, Ranger training, then their trip to Pleasant Dunes, where Sarah Jay proudly showed off her Ablative Armour Spell Core to a fascinated Noora. “Ain’t much to look at or worth much of anything at all,” she said, holding the boxy purple crystalline structure up to the light, “But it’s the first Spell Core I ever earned, and I’m hoping the first of many to come.”
“That’s incredible,” Noora replied, but despite her enthusiasm and sincerity, her shoulders slumped in an all too familiar, self-pitying way as she gestured around them. “I’ve never even seen a Spell Core before, even though I know there’s one in every gun. You guys aren’t even that much older than me, and you rode all this way through the desert fighting off Aberrations along the way. Can’t even imagine doing that myself.” Looking down at her plate and playing around with her fork, Noora took a long moment to gather her words, and Errol knew better than to interrupt. “Yesterday morning,” she began, and Errol perked up to hear it, “Howie told me the Rangers could bring me safely out of town if I wanted to leave with them. I was too scared to even consider going, but now it looks like I got no choice but to.” Poking at her food some more, she looked up and asked, “Is it true? The Rangers will let me tag along for free?”
“One hundred percent.” Though the question was directed at Sarah Jay, Errol felt compelled to speak up, and he met Noora’s scared gaze with all the sincerity he could muster. Maybe she was used to her clients lying to her, but he wanted her to know not all men were the same. “If you want to get away from Pleasant Dunes, then the Rangers will bring you away safe and sound.”
“Sure as shootin’,” Sarah Jay chimed in. “Don’t matter who stands in our way, the Rangers’ll stomp ‘em flat before they know what hit ‘em. Lemme tell you about the scuffle we had with Abby on the way in. It’s early afternoon and we on patrol when I spot Kacey over there come ridin’ in on Ivory, Howie’s horse…”
That’s how Errol left them, with Sarah Jay regaling Noora with tales of how the Firstborn came hurtling in atop his Floating Disc with an army of Abby behind him. Rather than stick to Howie’s side with Kacey and Tina, Errol found himself a spot in between Ike and Antoni as they dug trenches in the sand. Even though Ike had been part of Richard’s crew, he’d earned himself a second chance in Errol’s book, and showed he deserved it by keeping his head down and chatter to a minimum as they worked side by side all day. Antoni was much the same, so aside from a few shared complaints about working all day beneath the scorching red sun, they kept their conversation light and breezy. It was perfect, so the next day, Errol joined them again and was welcomed with a nods from both men. Their topics of discussion expanded to include what sorts of foods they wished they could eat instead of the terrible army chow they were fed, with a bit of good-natured ribbing about Errol’s superior meals thanks to Howie. The third day they met up to dig ditches, Antoni welcomed him with a light punch on the shoulder, and they fell in like old friends telling jokes and passing the time with stupid ‘would you rather’ questions.
“Would you rather march around town in full parade dress for three full hours,” Antoni began, pausing to hurl a shovel full of sand over his shoulder. “Or wash all the Sergeant’s smallclothes by hand?”
“Damn that’s a tough one,” Ike replied, and Errol had to agree.
“Am I marching alone, or is everyone marching with me?” Errol asked.
“What’s it matter?” Stopping to wipe his sweat, Ike raised an eyebrow and said, “Marching is marching.”
“If I’m alone, then I’d rather do the smallclothes.” Shaking his head with a smile, Errol added, “There’s no way I’m high-stepping around town all by myself for three long hours in this heat. Least I can wash in the shade.”
“Misery loves company,” Antoni supplied, and they all laughed together, even though it wasn’t really all that funny.
The low, haunting whir of the siren spinning up put an end to their flat banter as they all went on high alert, standing up straight to peer over the lip of the trench and glance in all directions. A second later, their training kicked in as they all climbed out and beat a hasty retreat back into town. Were only a handful of ladders for the boots to use to get back up on the wall, as Pleasant Dunes only had two gates, one on the east side leading up into the mountains, and one on the west for visitors coming into town. They were digging on the south side, opposite where they fought off the horde chasing down the Vanguard National thugs only a few days past, but far as Errol could tell, the Abby attack wasn’t coming from this direction. Even then, he didn’t waste any time getting up the ladder, nor would the Sergeants have allowed it, barking orders and hurrying boots along if they so much as hesitated on the way up. They were the last up, save for Howie who waited until one ladder was completely clear before running up the rungs without using his hands. Wasn’t even looking forward while he did it, but had his head turned west and eyes narrowed as if he could see something the rest of them didn’t. Was a good chance he did, knowing the Eagle Eye Spell like he did, but he didn’t say nothing when he reached the top of the wall. Just looked back down at the sand to make sure no stragglers had been left behind before pulling the ladder up behind him.
There was something about his attitude that made Errol uneasy, a frustrated air about him steely expression that spoke volumes to his foul mood. It wasn’t anger, but concern which had him all tense and apprehensive, which was out of character for the cocky Firstborn who acted like there was no problem too big for him to solve. Weren’t any smiles out of him this time around, no cheeky grin or brazen statements about killing Abby or whatnot, just a grim but determined set to his jaw as he glanced at Tina, then back at camp where Noora and Sarah Jay were still hanging about.
Curious that, but then Sergeant Begaye began bellowing orders and Errol gave Ike and Antoni a nod farewell followed by a fist bump for good luck. It was time to join the Firstborn again, who was already with Tina and Kacey, the other members of their little Strike Team. “Where’s your Whumper?” Were the first words Howie mouth, eyeing Errol’s lack of secondary while double checking his own. Rather than wait for an answer, Howie sighed and handed his revolver Blastgun over. “You got shells?” Errol didn’t, because he figured he wouldn’t need them since he wasn’t carrying the Blastgun around to dig ditches. Difficult enough to keep the El-Minister in place while working all day, but that wasn’t a problem for the Firstborn. No, his strap for his Ranger Repeater was perfectly fitted, and he even had a leather sling for the Whumper which he brought everywhere he went, complete with two pouches of shells which he pressed into Errol’s hands. “Slow is smooth and smooth is fast,” he said, in the same tone and cadence he always did. “Pick your shots and aim for the big ones with the compressor. If they get in close, we’ll cover you while you fall back a step to remove it. It’ll be hot, so have a glove ready.”
“Got it,” Errol said, unsure why Howie was being so specific with his orders this time around, when he usually stopped after ‘pick your shots’. A question asked and answered as they took their position on the western wall and spotted a massive horde of orcs, goblins, and bugbears spreading out across the coral sands. Thousands might well be an understatement, as there were more Abby than Errol had ever seen gathered in one place, more than he’d ever seen in total throughout his lifetime before today. Their mottled green figures dotted the landscape, not quite stretching out over the horizon, but only because there were too many sand dunes in the way. They didn’t approach the town in neat and orderly ranks, but as a single, congealed mass that ebbed and flowed around the city limits, a seemingly random, rippling tide of green moving with subtle cohesion as they surrounded the walls on three sides. North, West, and South, wherever Errol turned, there were Aberrations to be found, still too far away even for one of Sarah Jay’s best shots, but far too close for comfort and only moving closer with each passing breath.
It was a sight which shook him to the core, one that would stick with him to the rest of his days, those coral sands covered by a nigh endless horde of Aberration attackers hellbent on steamrolling Pleasant Dunes into the ground.
“If the worst comes to worst,” Howie began, speaking quietly in a calm and measured tone despite his ominous start, “Get to the wagon. That’s our fallback point, one Cowie will be guarding. I’ll do what I can to get you out, but if you ain’t at the wagon when I get there, then you are on your own. Got it?”
Errol swallowed hard and nodded, though Howie couldn’t see it, as his eyes were focused on the oncoming Abby horde. Taking a deep breath, the Firstborn cracked his neck to the left, then the right, before stretching his arms out to either side like getting ready for bed. “Welp,” Howie began, regaining some of his cocky, confident demeanour as he raised his voice for the others to hear and smiled in spite of the odds arrayed against them. “Things haven’t worked out quite as expected, and I’ll be the first to admit this ain’t ideal, but I’ll say this much; still beats diggin’ ditches.”
Errol laughed. He couldn’t help it, as it was a mixture of nerves, relief, and mind-numbing terror, but it was enough to snap him out of his funk. Much as he disliked the Firstborn on a personal level, Howie was a good man to have beside you in a fight. Muttering a prayer beneath his breath, Errol threw a Heroism Spell on himself once more and readied to face the horde. Forget legalities and politics, jurisdiction and purviews, Independents or Federation. This here was something he understood, a role he’d dreamed of playing for as long as he could remember, and today, for better or for worse, he was living the dream.
Errol Dillard. Not an American Ranger, Métis Pathfinder, or even Catholic Templar like he’d imagined as a child growing up. Just a prospect for a crew he wasn’t sure he wanted to stay on, but the label wasn’t important. Today, he was here to fulfill his dreams and fight the good fight, show Abby that a divided humanity could stand united against them, that they would not go quietly into the night or lay down arms without a fight. Not for thrills or profit like Howie, but for the sake of saving lives, no more, and no less, for this was his purpose, his calling, the good work bestowed upon him by the Lord, to save this town or die trying.
From Aberrations first, then Vanguard National once the dust settled, by convincing everyone he could to leave alongside the Rangers. Though Errol was just a man, he was a man burning with purpose, and for better or for worse, he would see this through to the end.