Chapter 8
...
Floor 1 – Day 25
[Status]
Name: John
Attributes
Class: None – Skills: 1/6
Titles: None
Perks:
Strength:
13
-
[Domicile] – 1st floor
Dexterity:
10
-
Constitution:
12
Resist Poison 3
Intelligence:
10
-
Wisdom:
10
-
Charisma:
10
-
My hope was that if I somehow managed to get all the way to the mountain, I would find something useful.
That maybe I'd find a place where there were fish, or berries, or something else to eat.
That maybe there might be a building, or a sign, or something that indicated I wasn't totally alone.
Unfortunately, that was not the case.
The only thing at the base of the mountain was… well, the base of the mountain.
That was it.
I don’t know what I was honestly expecting. The Floor had been fairly straight-forward in its solitary ways. Upward, a steep slope waited. Not so steep that I could not walk up it, but in similar incline to a shallow staircase.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Only, it went a very, very, long way up.
It looked unrealistically tall. Like something that couldn't possibly have existed on Earth.
Taking into consideration that it took a solid 14 hours of walking, before I reached the base of the mountain, that was more than a little intimidating.
Along the way, I had continued marking the trail. Using so much paint, it was basically to the point where it would be extremely difficult to get lost. I'd gone overboard, and then some, but I felt that the remaining cans of spray paint in my shed were worth the result.
Peace of mind is important, and I had no intention of losing focus and getting lost by accident.
After seeing the mountain up close, though, it was also very clear I wasn’t going to be able to take much with me. At best, I assumed what I was carrying when I reached the summit would potentially be coming with me. At worst, maybe reaching the summit would mean leaving things behind. So, I decided that whatever resources I had, I might as well use, because climbing a mountain of that size, carrying a lot of weight would be impossible.
It was a little emotionally draining, though.
Realizing that I would need to leave everything behind.
I couldn’t be too sentimental about what I took with me. I knew that for certain. Even with the increases in Strength, it was going to be difficult just to get myself to the summit. Just bringing all the necessary supplies for whatever came after on the second Floor was going to be hellishly difficult.
But it still weighed on me a bit.
I thought about this a lot, on my return trip to my [Domicile], before I went about reviewing my inventory.
In the end, I simply felt that it was a shame.
My home had so many useful things squirreled away. My truck was still parked, with nowhere to go. My closets were full of camping gear, books, and keepsakes. My bedroom had my music, my guitar, my bed… I'd have to live without my bed. That thought alone troubled me more than I cared to admit. But to leave all these things behind, and not be able to return to them?
It was painful to think about.
The time was ticking away, though. I'd checked, and I knew that my medicine was due to last another month if I was careful, but that was if I really wanted to risk waiting that long. It hadn't been working as well, probably due to the fact it wasn't being stored in a fridge, and seemed to be providing diminishing returns. I was using more of it to accomplish the same result, and that was causing it to run out even quicker than I had anticipated.
Stalling right until I was about to run out felt like a really bad idea, and I felt that taking whatever remaining insulin I had with me and moving on towards the next floor would probably be a better move. It was still going to be a gamble, but at least I'd have a few weeks to try and figure things out once I got there.
As it was, I packed and repacked my bag several times.
My mental struggle to just commit to what I wanted, was a lot worse than I care to admit.
The food was easy. My options were limited. Some insta-coffee I'd been saving. Some multi-vitamins, some peanut butter, some granola in plastic baggies, some candy for emergency lows, some dried meat I’d been saving, and an entire unopened container of protein powder: the good stuff.
My climbing and hiking gear was trickier. The handgun was simple and lightweight, but the shotgun was quite the opposite. Everything about it was heavier, from the ammunition, to the weapon itself.
But I felt that I couldn’t leave it behind.
There was no telling what I might run into, and a 12-gauge loaded with buckshot was going to do a lot more than a 9mm pistol. At the very least I knew I could bring it to the basecamp I was setting up, and leave it there if I felt it was too much.
At the same time, taking both of these meant I couldn’t bring much else with me.
You ever try and climb a mountain? Let me tell you, it doesn't get easier the higher you go. Every pound of weight carried is a constant drain on energy. So, I tried to go light. Instead of the wood-chopping axe collecting dust in the shed, I settled on a small folding saw and two pocket knives. One large, one tiny. Combine that with two large soda bottles of water, only one full, with intention to fill them at the stream coming from the base of the mountain. I'd been boiling water to drink, but my tests at drinking a little without doing so hadn't ended with me getting sick. I figured it would be fine.
All that, and some spare clothing... Together, this would be heavier than I liked, but I figured I would need the bottles in the future. In fact, I was sure of it. Water bottles were a magical thing, considering all I had to work with were trees and grass. The best alternative I could think of would be carving a tree stump hollow, and fitting a lid on it somehow.
Adding more tiny things on top of this: some tape, a lighter, some paracord, a small cooking pot.
I was starting to push it by the time I stuffed in a tent and my medicine supply bag. Strapping the tarp to the outside of my bag, I felt it was fit to burst if I tried to put anything else on it.
This was a lot. Even with Strength, this was a lot.
Obviously, I could wear the toughest all-purpose clothing I had in the house. A jacket, a shirt and undershirt. Gloves, jeans and an extra pair of socks. Tucking a metal flask of whiskey into my jacket’s pocket, and strapping on my bag... I felt the weight of it all. Slapping a phone and tiny solar charger on to the end of it, seemed like the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was heavy. Still, by the time I had it all set up, I felt it would work.
The pack could be balanced well enough, and with my increased [Strength] it wasn’t too difficult to walk with it.
Climbing with it, though…
I wasn’t certain.
In case something might go wrong, I decided to take the time and repeat my journey to the base of the mountain, setting up my tent at the base and filling it with some extra food and water in the off chance I had to give up on my first attempt at taking the summit.
It was a long journey.
Then, I returned home again.
Another wasted day came from that, as I managed the hiking in around 22 hours, round-trip. I rationalized it by mentally shuffling the hike into the category of a heavy work-out, but it still felt like a waste of time. Time, which I could have spent improving my attributes in better ways.
I’d been trying to find other methods to do that. Reading, trying some crossword puzzles, randomly attempting math problems, trying to juggle-
Those might seem random, but I knew if I could increase Strength, who was to say that other Attributes didn’t work a similar way? There had to be some sort of trick.
In the process of doing this, though, I ended up sorting through all sorts of possessions I’d accumulated over the years. Digging through the closets, under the bed, in the attic. There were so many other things I knew that I would take if I could. All these memories I had collected.
My life’s history was in this house.
But, even so, I could only stay a little longer. I had to steel my resolve: only a few more weeks at most. If the second floor was going to be similar in difficulty, I knew I might need more time once I got there in order to secure a way through to the third. So on, and so forth.
This was going to be enough of a gamble as it was, I didn’t need to make things more difficult for myself.
I had a few more weeks.
Setting up to be ready to leave on a moment’s notice, I decided I would make the absolute best of them.