Chapter 8. Gearing up.
Silas took his weapons back to the house, cleaning them thoroughly at the kitchen table. Stripping down both the M16 and his 1911 pistol were easy enough after a few hiccups. It had been decades since he’d completely stripped down and cleaned an M16, but it was coming back to him. After that, he worked on his pack.
The load bearing vest had several pouches, and a holster for his 1911. His bandoleer with the extra magazines for the rifle was slung over his shoulder, with Silas adjusting it so he could easily reach it for reloading in combat. On the load bearing vest, he secured both frag grenades that he had found in the footlocker.
That pit place somehow kept him fed and watered with that mana stuff, so he didn’t have to worry about lugging any rations or a canteen around, which typically made up a large percentage of the weight a soldier had to carry into battle. The pit would also heal his wounds surprisingly quickly, but Silas still kept the first aid kit he’d found in the footlocker attached to the load bearing vest, just in case.
After standing with everything on, Silas realized that there was no way he was going to be able to carry the additional weight of the M79, its ammo, and the claymores. For now, he’d have to leave them behind and hope the two grenades on his vest were enough for what he was going to face. If there were just more of the gnome freaks in the pit, he wouldn’t miss the firepower of the M79.
Hauling his finds over several trips back and forth to the house, Silas left his cleaning supplies on the kitchen table and sat on the couch to gather his energy. Buster was back in his dog bed in the corner, snoring away. That always made Silas chuckle, Buster was as much of a grumpy old man as he was. They were quite a pair, and he didn’t know what he’d have done without the dog’s company this last year.
Thinking of the times he’d spent with Lisa and Buster, Silas drifted off into sleep. He woke with a jolt after what seemed like only a few minutes, but the late afternoon sun told Silas the day was almost over. Standing up, he could feel the weight of the gear he was wearing, but it would be manageable.
Thankfully, despite being battered and bruised during his visit to the pit, Silas was moving around okay and even with the weight he was carrying, he didn’t think he’d need the cane tonight. Looking down at his feet, Silas realized that he had forgotten one thing. Slip on shoes weren’t going to cut it in the jungle, and he dug around in the hall closet, finding an old pair of boots in the back.
They were worn down a bit, but the pair was still in good condition. It was the same pair he had worn when he had come home from Vietnam. These boots had some miles on them, but they were comfortable and familiar to Silas. It sort of felt right to have boots that had already experienced the horror of jungle warfare on his feet for this new war he found himself in. A reminder of his younger days and the competent soldier and leader that had been forged inside the crucible of Vietnam.
Rooting around in the closet had woken Buster, who gave a big yawn before walking over to his food dish for a snack. Crunching away at his dried food, Buster stopped and looked at Silas for a moment before going back to his dinner. The dog had an odd look in his eye, like it was trying to ponder something.
Silas’ stomach growled and let him know that it wanted something a bit more substantial than a protein bar. He wasn’t much of a cook but had a rather extensive collection of frozen dinners that he’d stowed away in the freezer. Lisa would have gotten on his case for eating them, but with her gone, it didn’t make much sense to cook a meal just for himself.
After a microwave dinner consisting of some disappointing fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and mixed veggies, Silas was as ready as he’d ever be for the next step. A final check on his gear told him everything was in place. The feeling of being fully armed and wearing his old uniform was a bit strange.
Some of it felt awkward, like he needed to relearn the muscle memory of grabbing a new mag and slapping it into the rifle. But despite it feeling awkward, some things, like the weight of the LBV on his shoulders, awakened old memories.
“You ready to go Buster or do you want to stay home?” Silas asked.
Buster gave a short bark and wagged his tail before following Silas out the door. Taking one last look in the house before closing the door, he sighed and walked off the porch toward the garage. This was it; he was going back into battle after nearly six decades of peace. Inside the garage, one look at his Mustang rekindled his anger and made Silas ready to dish out some more punishment to these gnome freaks.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Silas closed the footlocker and shoved it back against the wall. It was much lighter now that he’d take a good portion of what had been inside it into his house. As he approached the spot on the garage floor where the portal had appeared, Silas could feel that there was power there. He had only to wake it with his will and the portal would open.
“Let’s get on with it. Open sesame,” Silas said as he willed the portal open.
The blue swirling portal appeared on the floor, and unlike when he had held the idol, it no longer sought to pull him in. That was odd, Silas had almost forgotten about the idol. The idol, despite dragging him into the portal initially, hadn’t come through with him. It was also not back in the chest or anywhere in the garage when he had returned. Whatever happened to it, he could deal with it later.
Silas could sense the portal weakening, like the power supply for it was almost used up. With Buster refusing to leave his side, Silas stepped in before it closed. Buster gave a slight whimper of disapproval as they once more appeared in the dark, underground passage where he had first been dumped.
This time, the portal allowed him to step easily from it and into the portal room linked to his home. He was a bit relieved that he wouldn’t have to drop onto the hard floor each time he arrived here. That would just be asking for a serious injury to either him or Buster. A quick check showed that his dog had come through without any issues and was busy sniffing its way around the room.
Silas pulled the rifle off his shoulder where he had slung it before entering the portal. A round was chambered, and another twenty were in the magazine and ready to go. He made a mental note to visit the sporting goods store as soon as his next month’s check was deposited and pick up some 30-round mags. A quick check of his remaining gear showed that everything was in place and ready to go.
He didn’t hear any sounds of combat, and a peek around the corner revealed that Gritvart was still here. His merchant stall had been sloppily repaired and he sat on a small wooden stool looking bored and annoyed. Stepping into the passageway, Buster barked when he spotted the goblin merchant.
“Hey Silas, welcome back. Stop lurking in the corner and come over here so I can show you what I’ve got in stock,” Gritvart said, waving the pair forward. Still not entirely convinced that there were no threats nearby, Silas kept his rifle in his hands, ready to drill holes in anyone trying to cause trouble.
“Okay, okay, I know it’s not much to look at right at this minute, but I have good news. The System is powering up this place slowly but surely, and I finally have a connection back home. Now GEE isn’t willing to give me their best goods, at least not until I show that I can move the merchandise, but I will at least keep getting new stock for you to peruse,” Gritvart said as Silas approached.
“I still don’t have any goblin money,” Silas tried to explain.
“Bah, it’s not goblin money, we use cold hard cash, you know, copper, silver, gold coins, etc. The System is probably cheaping out on you until you finish the tutorial, but don’t worry. After you finish your tutorial, you’ll receive some of that sweet, sweet coin the System doles out when you do what it wants.
“What kind of stuff do you have? Maybe I can bring something from home to trade with you if there’s anything you might be interested in,” Silas asked, at least willing to take a look at what was on offer.
“Glad you asked Silas; trade is always welcome. Bring me a bit of everything next time, and we’ll see what I can do. Take a gander, I’ve got all kinds of snacks, drinks, and even a summoning figurine for you to buy,” Gritvart said.
Silas felt a bit sorry for him, the display rack sitting on his booth held a small collection of what looked like beef sticks, wooden bottles with cork stoppers in them that probably held water or some other beverage. In the middle of the table, in what could only be described as the place of honor for this little shop, was a small stone figurine of a dwarf holding a pickaxe.
“What kind of meat is that? You know I don’t have to eat or drink inside the pit,” Silas said, pointing toward the meat sticks.
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. You don’t need to eat or drink, but that doesn’t mean eating or drinking can’t help you. These meat sticks are not only highly nutritious, but one will also boost your health regeneration by 10% for an hour. Same with the grumbleberry juice. It’ll boost your mana by the same,” Gritvart explained.
“Can any food do that, or is this something special?” Silas asked sniffing toward the meat sticks and finding that they didn’t seem to have any scent to them.
“Maybe, I doubt your human world food will do much of anything inside the pit, but my goblin-made goodies are guaranteed to do the trick. I’ll tell you what, here’s a free sample for you two. Gnaw on these once you get back in the pit. If it does what I said, you can buy more when you get back, providing you finally have some coins in your pockets or something worth trading,” Gritvart offered, passing two meat sticks to Silas.
“Thanks, I think,” Silas replied looked with some skepticism at the cured meat sticks. Somehow, Silas doubted that the goblins that cooked these were big on modern food safety techniques.
“Whoof,” Buster said, sitting like a good boy as he licked his lips at the sticks that Silas held.
“Hold on, boy, we’ll try these out when we get back to the pit. Speaking of that, I got to get moving Gritvart. Thanks for the samples and we’ll see you in a bit,” Silas said, leaving the goblin’s stall and walking into the huge portal room where another swirling blue portal waited to take him to the pit.