Three of them have dived into the wall of ashen trees. Pat was glancing around, trying to hide his shaking hands.
Irfan moved little by little, picking spots between dry branches and leaves. His walk was slow, but steady at the same time. Sometimes he was stopping for a moment, calling for silence, before continuing forward.
Joe was following Irfan almost step-by-step, trying to pick out the details and signs on the ground. He did remember some of the grandpa’s lessons on tracking, but his memory refused to give him more, and he knew jack shit about the local wildlife. And even with what he could remember, he failed to apply, as his foot stepped on a dry branch twice, and almost got caught in a random hole underneath the leaves. His eyes couldn’t get used to the bleak black-gray ambience, causing his attention to wander around.
The only saving grace was that out of three of them, Pat was doing even worse. Constantly being hit by hanging branches, stumbling around on bumps and piles of leaves, actually getting caught by the same hole Joseph barely avoided and was close to losing his eye because of the low-hanging ashen branch, when he got the grand idea to try and cut some leaves, way above his reach, in addition to some branches, with his garden shears. Joe managed to pull him back mid-fall, earning a brief, but heartfelt “Thanks” from the out-of-his-depth scientist.
They finally emerged from the woods onto an open area, bruised and tired. Irfan looked behind his shoulder with confusion, then smirked, earning himself two burning glares from his dear companions.
“You’ve made it in one piece, I see.”
“Shut up… you monkey…” Pat was completely out of breath and insults. Joe recovered faster. He looked over the area before a particular part of the scenery on the ground caught his attention.
“Irfan, you see this?”
Arid followed the direction Joseph was pointing at. He knelt on one leg, checking the ground.
“Long, straight, deep, and perfectly parallel… I have seen no animal leaving tracks like that. That’s worrying.”
“That’s no animal…” Pat’s breath was still erratic, but he recovered... somewhat. “I think… it’s a motor vehicle tracks… at least it looks similar enough…”
“Motor vehicle? Like a car of some sort?”
The doctor took a sharp breath.
“Right, a motor carriage. I can be wrong, but it looks familiar.”
They exchanged glances. Both Irfan and Pat had a concerned look.
“Signs of civilization… Empire?” Joe said the first name, which came to his mind.
“Most definitely. I have no clue what technology Hrothgar has at their disposal, but in Capital, I was driving a car for a very long period of time, before it broke down on me. It had a smaller spread of wheels, but tracks were just the exact same.”
“Should we follow them, then? Gather some evidence, see if it’s truly Empire that is taken hold on this island. Or should we wait for our clown quartet?”
Three of them turned their heads around without saying a word.
Pat scratched behind his ear, looking slightly down.
“Why didn't we wait for them?… Didn’t feel right simply leaving them back there on the slide…”
“The slide?”
Irfan stretched his shoulder back and forth.
“Edge of the island. Now, we wanted to hunt, remember? Fewer people, less cautious animals.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be just fine…” Added Joe.
Irfan perked up, trying to look for something in the distance. Neither Joe nor Pat had seen anything until the cracking sound rang out from the forest. They noticed a movement in between faraway branches.
Irfan grinned.
“Right on cue. Well done, Joseph.”
He didn’t do anything? But that was irrelevant, as all their attention was now on four supposed protectors of the group, emerging from the woods. All of them were covered in dirt and dry leaves. All of them were slightly out of breath.
“You unsightly daemons, why didn’t you wait for us?!”
“We thought that in the name of progress, it would be for the best to continue on our own. Joe’s call, not mine.” The doctor pointed away from himself.
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Joseph didn’t even spare him a glare, as he was tapping his foot, waiting for them to come closer.
“Have you settled your differences?”
Henry and Duncan looked at each other. Rodger put his hand on the forehead, while Vas only shook his head in shame.
“Yes, sir. Ready for duty, sir.” Both idiots saluted.
Don’t get cocky, don’t get cocky…
“Right…” Joe coughed, clearing his throat and giving himself time to think. “We found some tracks that possibly belong to imperial vehicles. I suggest we investigate them.”
It seemed to have finally put the squabble to rest. The bald man and bearded man put turned their focused expressions on.
“Imperials? Ain’t nothing worth is coming from these dogs…" muttered Duncan. "But I see no patrols. If it’s the road, where are the troops?”
“Bard’s right.” Henry knelt near tracks just as Irfan did before. “When there’s supply line, there are soldiers. Officers know better than leaving their backline empty.”
“Then it’s not an outpost. No captain would stand this behavior.” Rodger joined the discussion. “If I had to pick something… might be a hideout of sorts or a remote mining post. These tracks came from a vehicle, meaning that something was transported. The road is not well hidden and is not covered in concrete, or even gravel. It just formed naturally.”
The group looked at him with amazement.
“Oh you sly dog, where was your head before?”
Rodger shrugged.
“I’ve seen different places. It was not that hard to figure it out.”
Joe looked at the tracks, going into the forest in front of him. Another end was going to the left, parallel to the edge of the island. It was fading away into the horizon. There was nothing else, but the sea of black and grey trees all around them.
Rodger glanced around.
“So, any plans, scouts? Suggestions, ideas?”
“Exploring one end of the road together would be our best bet, I think,” Joe suggested.
“That could be a problem. A group means a lot of noise, scaring away animals and lowering chances to find water.” The hunter was not convinced.
“So a split, then? And what would you do Irfan, if you get shot or mauled far away from us? I can’t heal from a distance, I am not a mender or a lifemage!”
Rodger raised his head.
“Irfan has a right idea. I think we split into two groups, each takes one end of the tracks.”
“If imperial dogs are here, this will be a pain in the arse.” Duncan spat on the dry ground.
Henry shook his head.
“Rodger’s right. If this is not a military outpost, then no chance we run into the platoon here. That noodle over there“ - he pointed at grimacing Pat - “told us before that we were going to scout the area. Going together is not sneaking, it’s painting our hair orange and parading around, shouting praises to Emperor, Kon’jar Curse him with migraine!”
Joe was very tempted to ask, who that mysterious Kon’jar was, and why every second person was mentioning him while cursing, but Pat had a way better question to ask.
“How do you suggest we split, then?”
Rodger hesitated to answer. An idea lit up in Joseph’s mind. It wasn’t a smart one, but it made some sense to him.
“How about that? Me, Pat, and Irfan as the least combat-capable team, with hunter us our scout. Meanwhile, you seem to be knit tight with each other and much more experienced, so you have better chances of fighting your way out, in case of trouble. Our group will be on the lookout, not getting into a fight. If trouble comes our way, we retreat and call for you.”
Bard scratched his forehead.
“Shouldn’t we get the medic then, if you putting us on spot as a battering ram?”
Pat caressed his chin, thinking up something. Then his face brightened up.
“I think it is a good idea. I’ll give you some supplies, so you will be just fine.”
Joe felt somewhat suspicious of Pat's intentions. The rat-faced man turned to the arid.
“What about you, big guy? Joining our limited members' circle?”
Irfan shrugged, maintaining the impression of a brick.
“I don’t mind.”
It was settled then. Duncan grumbled for a bit about the unfairness of leaving a medic behind to rookies, but Henry and Rodger welcomed the idea.
The strike team took the left path after Joseph decided to take a path in front. He got some weird stares from Rodger, but others seemed to be content with his choice.
And only when they walked for at least a kilometer into a forest, Joseph realized his scatterbrained stupidity and punched himself.
Of course, it’s the path that leads to a center of the island that would be hiding more dangers, not the one that goes along the edge!
No way back now. Fortunately, no living soul has passed by them. Unfortunately, no living soul has passed by them.
The only saving grace was that the further from the slide they were, the brighter the sky became. Purple ambient was fading away, revealing normal clouds, which Joseph found very out of place - why would there be normal clouds above the island, but not the Threshold itself?
The sky was fully covered with dark clouds, blocking almost all of the sunlight. The winds were gathering power, whispering in Joseph’s ears. The trees were leaning closer to the road, loudly creaking and hanging above their heads, threatening to squash their small group of unwelcome visitors. The black leaves were riding the wind around, enveloping them into their embrace.
It was not until another kilometer and a half until they've reached their destination.
And were immediately tempted to turn around and just leave this island behind.
*****
“That was not what I was expecting…”
“What were you expecting?”
“Not some noble’s old mansion in the middle of the dead island, Joseph!”
To be fair, no one was expecting that. When all three of them emerged from the forest, they came out right near the brick shack with a metal door. After walking a bit further, and now they were standing in the corner of the wide flat square, the surface of which was covered in white stone of unknown kind.
“Trucks… couple of them completely trashed… what in the void happened here?” Irfan whispered.
The stone had a few black stains on it. The piles of unrecognizable trash on the square were soiling the picture-perfect view. A couple of broken car frames were lying separately at the far end of the square, not too far from the metal fence, that was guarding the house from the outside. Another squished truck seemed like someone rammed it into the fence itself.
The metal gates were lying on the ground. Behind the fence, the three-story mansion with withered walls, decorated with marble columns, was standing on top of a small hill, with chiseled stairs leading to it and remains of a destroyed garden in front of it.
On the right-hand side of the square, there was a huge two-story concrete building with another metal door.
“By the Kon’jar’s name, this looks like two squads of crazy bombers decided to skirmish right here. What could’ve caused such devastating damage?”
Irfan ignored the doctor and poked one trash pile with a stick. He tried to turn it around, but it crumbled into dust right after.
Joe sat in front of a stain. He touched it with the barrel of a pistol. Something gray flew up into the air, forcing him to stumble back and cover his face. His nose picked up a familiar smell.
“Irfan, I think it’s ash.”
Hunter knelt beside Joe.
“You would be right. Something burned here. Or exploded… hold on.”
He touched the stone underneath the stain.
“It’s uneven.”
“An explosion, then? Powerful enough to break a stone?”
“Sounds like truth.”
Pat meanwhile tried to open the metal door leading into the brick shack. It wouldn’t budge at all.
“No chance…” He turned around to his approaching companions. “Locked tight. Without keys, we are not getting in.”
“And made out of brick too… we could try to blow our way in if we could find something explosive.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” Irfan interrupted Joseph’s attempts to push some bricks in. “You can’t push the cemented bricks. Also, blowing up is dangerous. We don’t know what happened here.”
Joe left the shack alone.
“Fair enough. Any ideas?”
The answer came from an unexpected side. Neither Pat nor Irfan, but the forest itself. They heard a thunder-like creaking and crashing sound echoing throughout the area, coming from the same direction they arrived from themselves.
“...What was that?”
Irfan was looking into the sea of trees, trying to pick anything out. His expression was growing more and more worried with every passing second.
“I suggest we leave now…” Pat clutched blunderbuss in his hands. “Something is not right. Scratch that, nothing is right! Let’s regroup with Rodger and leave this island.”
Joe and Irfan had zero objections. The group borderline ran back the way they came in.
But things were just not going well today.