Heart pounding in his chest like a caged animal struggling to break free, Nick crept his way closer to the entrance of the pack’s lair. The stretch of earth where his decisive battle would momentarily ensue. It was a deceptively peaceful scene. An open hillscape blanketed by warm sunlight and fragrant wildflowers.
Despite the rugged beauty of his surroundings, Nick was filled with an electric sense of anticipation. He was about to engage in the riskiest plan of his life. Face his strongest enemies to date, other than his showdown with the foreman. But while the ratman might have been a match for a lone cruncher, the danger of his sword paled beside the combined might of the pack.
He forced himself to keep his breathing slow and steady, although he could not convince his body to relax. His muscles were poised to sprint if he discovered even a hint that the ferocious predators had caught wind of his intrusion. Not that he expected to survive such an unfortunate occurrence.
This close to the den, Nick could smell the stench of blood and decay wafting out of the hole torn into the hillside, the reek of death old and new. His instincts were screaming that he should turn and run until his legs gave out. Abandon this insane plan and take his chances facing down the pack in the forest.
He shut out the voices debating the merits of his plan. Despite their well-justified reservations, he was certain that this gambit represented his best chance of surviving the days ahead.
Nick had to learn how to face danger head-on if he was going to make it in his new System-governed reality. And a perfect opportunity to take a crash course in fear management lay before him. During this final moment of reflection, he had moved close enough to begin his assault. From where he stood, it was a straight shot to his target, the shadowy entrance to the pack’s lair.
Mouthing a silent prayer, he slipped off his backpack and opened the flap. Visualizing the item that he wanted to remove, he pulled out a three-foot section of a bamboo-like plant that he had found growing near the lemurs’ side of the forest.
He had chosen this piece because it was perfectly cylindrical and ran straight as an arrow. Better still, the interior was smooth and just a hair wider than the metal canister he had acquired in the tutorial dungeon. The container that he had converted into a deadly chemical weapon. Not allowing himself to hesitate, Nick went to work assembling the makeshift mortar that would allow him to launch the pollen into the crunchers’ den.
First, he slid his wand out of his beltloop and then placed it in the bottom of the tube so that the trigger was lined up with the notch he had carved into the side of the stalk. Then, ever so carefully, he removed the canister, holding the bamboo tube parallel with the ground as he slid the bomb inside the far end.
Now came the tricky part—pointing the end of the mortar toward the entrance to the cavern ahead. As gently as he could, Nick lowered the base of the tube to the ground, a millimeter at a time. He let the container glide down at a glacial pace so that he didn’t jostle the pod inside and set off the bomb in his face.
If he did, he would probably charge straight into the beasts’ lair and serve himself for dinner, although he did have his antidote ready to go as a last resort. Despite the cold sweat running down his neck, Nick’s hands remained steady and sure. The intense concentration that he had come to associate with do-or-die moments honed his focus to a razor’s edge.
He felt the minuscule tap when the canister touched the end of the wand and then stopped. With a silent sigh of relief, he set the base of the mortar into the earth, with the canister held in place by the wand. He reached back with one hand and made sure that the trigger was still turned in the correct orientation. Everything is ready to go. Stick to the plan and prepare to pull the trigger.
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Suppressing the urge to shudder, he raised one leg and straddled the tube. Gripping it between his thighs to stabilize it, then aiming with his left hand and reaching back with his right. The crude device that Nick had constructed was based on the wand’s unique power to transmit force in one direction without kicking back in the other—a perfect stabilizer beyond the laws of physics to explain. At least the physics from his old universe.
Nick intended to use the wand to blast the bomb out of the business end of the mortar without providing any of the physical infrastructure such a device would normally require. His body should be heavy enough to keep the tube from shooting forward when it fired, and there was just enough space for the canister to slide through without creating significant countervailing pressure.
Despite his ingenuity, the quality of his construction was poor. The mortar would not be remotely accurate beyond a few dozen feet. But this close to the crunchers’ lair, he didn’t need the device to be particularly precise. He just needed to launch the canister thirty feet straight ahead, until it hit the back of the cave and delivered the payload of pollen within. Knowing that if this failed, he was almost certainly going to die while being eaten alive, Nick tightened his grip, double checked his aim, stuck his finger into the hole in the tube, and pressed the wand’s trigger.
With a great whump of displaced air, the canister burst out of the mortar. It went streaking toward the cavern’s entrance like a greased rocket. Eyes riveted on the flying bomb, Nick’s soul resounded with the rattle of dice rolling across the table. He had officially arrived at the point of no return. He had bet everything, and now it was time to see how the pips landed. If his ingenuity and luck would be sufficient to overcome seven brutal beasts that had endured a lifetime of battle.
Every fiber of his being wanted to watch how the next ten seconds played out. To make sure that his pollen bomb landed inside the beasts’ lair instead of striking the hillside. But that was not what happened.
What happened was that the instant Nick felt the reverberation of the wand’s activation, he slid the device out of the bamboo tube, shoved it into its beltloop, and then hastily pulled on his pack. He pulled an Orb of Flashbang out of his belt pouch, pushed the activator, threw it at the cave, and then leapt and spun around in a single motion. He was sprinting at full speed before his feet hit the ground.
No matter what happened next, Nick had to make it to the tree before the pack emerged from their lair, or he was dead by any reckoning. Before he had taken ten steps, an enormous boom ensued from behind his back, followed by a deluge of furious yips and growls. If the hyenas hadn’t realized that something was wrong before, they most certainly knew it now.
Although he ran faster than he ever had before, it felt like he was trapped in a waking nightmare. The tree was growing closer agonizingly slowly, like a mirage retreating toward the horizon when drawn near. Each step caused his heart to lurch within his chest. If he stumbled and fell, if he was slow to reach or scale the trunk, if the beasts had heard the mortar fire and emerged in time to witness his retreat, Nick was in a great deal of trouble.
Just as he was certain that the bomb had veered off course; that all his time, energy, and intensive plotting had come to naught, a bloodthirsty cacophony resounded from the hillside. Shaking with fear, excitement, and an electric cascade of adrenaline, he pressed himself into a greater burst of speed. He shut out the searing agony of his overtaxed muscles, taking ragged gasps as he poured everything that he had into reaching the branches before the beasts were upon him.
At last, Nick was growing closer to his destination. His arboreal sanctuary where he intended to ride out the blizzard of fang and claw brewing behind his back. Evade the maddened beasts that would follow inevitably in his wake.
He darted around to the far side of the trunk, in part to reduce his profile, but mostly so that he could see what was coming his way. Then he wrapped his arms around the rough bark and climbed for all he was worth. He felt an overwhelming surge of relief when his head drew level with the lower branches. But he couldn’t afford to relax. The most dangerous part of his plan had yet to come.
Shutting out the fierce and primal emotions swirling in his chest, Nick closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down. To not do anything that would reveal his presence. He had to settle into place and slow his breathing before the crunchers drew near. Their keen ears would surely detect him if he made even the slightest sound. His muscles burned and threatened to cramp, but he could barely feel the pain, intensely focused on mastering his fear.
Just as Nick wedged himself between the trunk and a broad branch, the bonecrunchers burst out of the cavern in a clamor of yips and growls.