CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: PICKING YOURSELF UP
Carter looked up into the sky. He saw the sun high overhead, which was concerning since when he had fallen unconscious it was just about to set. He cursed, realizing that he had blacked out for far longer than a few minutes. He hoped that it had only been a few hours instead of several days; otherwise Mirilla would have probably sold the things he had left in his room at the inn.
Carter began retrieving his belongings, which were scattered across the forest floor. His cell phone was good, although there were a few scratches on the screen. His sunglasses were undamaged. Carter couldn’t find his keys though, no matter how hard he searched. The kid who had gone through his pockets probably threw it far into the forest.
The memory of the child reminded Carter of something. He remembered that the little brat had taken his coin pouch while he was injured. Carter cursed, then desperately began searching the area for his money. He looked through the grass, under bushes, and even searched through the corpses. No matter where he looked, though, the coin pouch was gone.
“Dammit!” Carter shouted. It was that kid! He probably still had it on him when he ran away!
“Fuck!” He cursed again, kicking at a rock. That was all his money! Carter continued to curse loudly, his foot kicking out at random things on the ground. “Stupid! Stupid! Why did I keep all my money in one place! Stupid! FUCKING STUPID!” He screamed out in frustration.
He thought about the boy, of the fear in the child’s eyes as he ran away from him. He still probably had his coin pouch on him when he fled.
“I should have killed that little fucker when I had the chance!”
Those words he had sputtered out loud caused Carter to pause. Did he really just say that? His flaring temper cooled, and he shook his head to clear it. “Damn it. I didn’t mean that,” he scolded himself. “I didn’t.”
Carter thought about going after the kid to get his money back, but with such a long head start the brat could be anywhere. Mattu had said that some of the men who accosted him came from a village he had stopped at, which was a clue to finding the boy. But Carter had no idea which village that was. There could be numerous villages in this area alone.
“God damn it,” he said, cursing his situation. He had over fifty gold coins in that bag. He could have lived off of that amount for a year if he was careful. Now all of it was gone, stolen. And he had no one to blame but himself and his carelessness. He shouldn’t have kept all of his money on himself. He had thought he was doing the right thing. He had thought that the safest place for the money to be was on him; after all, he had the Witch Arm, which made him basically untouchable. A mistake. Just because he had a magical gun and healing ability didn’t make him invincible. He was almost killed by a group of redneck farmhands who were barely even armed!
He also should have left as soon as he saw that Mattu was safe. Hanging around the area when he knew there were hostiles around was just stupid. It was basic situational awareness and he failed it utterly. It was one of the first things they had taught him in Basic, and he knew that in his younger days in the military he never would have been so careless. So what the hell had happened?
Carter knew the answer to that question. He was a fucking moron. He had thought that he had thoroughly cowed the lowly village mob with his biting words and a few shots from his gun. He had been worse than stupid; he had been arrogant. He had looked down on the farmers, thinking he was better than them. They were just ignorant, racist pricks, after all. And he was a 21st Century American, former military, and highly educated. They were illiterate, medieval peasants covered in dirt. He felt they were beneath him. It didn’t help that ever since he had arrived in this world, people deferred to him, treated him like some sort of nobility just because he was wearing his department store suit. He had bought into his own lies, and it nearly cost him his life.
“I am such an idiot,” he muttered to himself. He even had the gall to think of Mattu as being suicidal when he had been just as careless.
Carter pulled his cloak off of the tree branch it was draped over, then wrapped the blue fabric around his tired shoulders. Despite his newly healed body feeling spry and full of energy, Carter was mentally exhausted. He felt like he could sleep for a week.
With a weary sigh, Carter headed through the woods back in the direction of the road. He needed to get back to Joston before something else happened to him. This event had been a sore reminder to treat this world more seriously and the kick in the ass he desperately needed. This wasn’t a game, or some sort of story. This was his life now.
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“What in the hells happened to you?” Mirilla asked in a voice tinged with both humor and concern as he stepped into the Fat Kitty.
Carter must have made quite a sight. His once fancy clothes had been all cut and torn up, stained with dirt and leaves. Although his own blood had vanished into nothingness like it usually did when he healed, the blood of his attackers marred his unblemished skin. A big blot of it was visible staining his neck, where it had splashed onto him when he had blasted a hole in the leader’s head.
“Got robbed,” he told the proprietress lamely as he took a seat at the bar.
“Oh, wow. That sounds rough. At least you’re still alive.” The woman filled a mug with some watered-down ale and passed it to him. “Have a drink. On the house.”
“Thanks,” Carter said in appreciation as he took the drink. He swallowed the entire contents of the mug in one go.
Mirilla watched him for a moment, noting his dour look and sunken eyes. “I’m guessing they got away with your money?”
“Every cent.”
The owner of the inn frowned. “That is rough. On the bright side though, you’ve paid up for two more days. After that, I got to throw you out.”
Carter gritted his teeth in frustration. He knew he shouldn’t have expected the least bit of kindness from the woman who constantly overcharged him, but he had hoped. The dark-haired man hid his displeasure and simply nodded. “I don’t suppose you need someone to fill in around here?” At the moment, he’d be happy to work just for boarding.
“Sorry, sweetheart. But I already have Kal and the cook. I got no more openings,” She said, but then she pointed towards the front door where the noticeboard hung. “You may want to check the listings, though. If you need money you can always find something quick and easy.”
Carter nodded, then pushed himself away from the bar to check the noticeboard. He searched through all the flyers, ignoring the obvious advertisements and looking for the listings asking for aid. He found several. Mirilla was right, he could knock these jobs out pretty quickly. The problem was that all of them paid shit. Searching the woods for herbs paid several coppers. Escorting a peddler to a nearby village paid ten silver. The hardest gig on the list, the goblin-killing mission, would only dole out thirty silver. None of these stupid jobs would even cover a night’s stay at this inn!
Utterly dejected, Carter turned around and headed upstairs to his room. Once inside, he locked the door, took off his cloak, and collapsed onto the lumpy bed.
Think, Carter. Think. He thought to himself. What could he do to get more money?
He thought about how he had gotten the funds he had in the first place and felt the weight lift off his shoulders somewhat. He still had stuff from Earth he could sell. Credit cards, his wallet, even his suit. Also, the stuff he bought from Culvert’s Rock was worth quite a bit. He could probably sell those, too.
Carter began to feel a little better. Yes, tomorrow, he’ll ask Mirilla if she knows any place in town where he could sell his things. He probably won’t get as much money as he did when he sold his items at Logher’s shop in Culvert’s Rock, but at least he wouldn’t be destitute.
Carter turned to lay on his back. He pulled out his cell phone and switched the device on. The dim room was lit up by the light from the screen, and he watched as the manufacturer’s logo flashed onto the screen. During the long sea voyage south, when Carter had been alone in his private room, he often turned on his phone to peruse its contents. He made sure not to stay on it for too long to save battery power, but just playing on the device comforted him. It made him feel like he was back at home, safe in his house on Earth. The simple action of playing on the phone took him away from the immensity of his current situation; instead of being lost in an alien world, all but clueless as to what awaited him, he felt safe and sound just swiping at that stupid touch screen.
Carter scrolled through several of the apps on the screen and quickly found the photo album. He opened it up and searched through the various folders, looking for a specific date. Eventually, he found what he was looking for.
2014.09.03
He opened the folder and clicked on the first image. The cell phone’s screen was soon taken up by a photo, this one showing a couple seated together at an expensive restaurant, smiling towards the camera. The man was himself, though with a face a decade older than the one he currently wore. The woman seated next to him was what many would describe as ordinary. She had shoulder-length brown hair, light brown eyes, and a light sprinkling of freckles across her plain face. But to Carter she was the most beautiful woman he had ever known. He reached out a hand towards the image and his fingertips touched her smiling, happy face.
Carter recalled the image. It had been six years ago, and they were celebrating Anne’s 37th birthday. It was a large gathering, and all of their friends and family were invited. The event was held at her favorite restaurant, Antonio’s, an Italian place right smack dab in the middle of the busy downtown area. It had been a fun night, filled with laughter and joy. Even after six years he felt he could remember every minute of that party. Carter realized right then that that night was probably the happiest of his entire life.
Two weeks later, Anne would be diagnosed with cervical cancer.
His shoulders shook as he shut off the phone. The room quickly descended into darkness. Carter lay in his rented room’s lumpy bed, an arm held across his face, as he wept softly. Eventually, after a bit of time, he fell asleep.
The black house once again met him in his dreams.