35) Down in a hole
I got my shotgun and revolver again, courtesy of Sam Sander, and with another rundown on gun safety from Little Red. What I didn't do was take it over for a test shot this time.
Instead, I ate another meal from one of Bread's plastic containers.
The large nearly gray blonde man set the red topped tub in front of me. “I think you’re going to like this. I used that apple I got from you. It… had some interesting effects.
Pulling open the container I got a whiff of the still hot pancakes dusted with cinnamon with little bits of diced apple in them. Both covered in half melted squares of butter and a spiral shaped drizzle of syrup.
There were a couple of ghastly pale sausage patties on the side as well, with little green flecks in them which Bread informed me were green pepper diced up enough I didn’t have to chew them.
“Beryl said that’s the only way you’ll eat them.”
I gave the man a bitter look. “That’s the only way she could sneak them into my food. Even the food the woman made was full of lies.”
He blinked at that and began to look offended, but I was already eating.
Really, they didn't taste too bad. Kind of nutty which went well with the apple chunks. But the effects of the food was even better.
[ You have finished Brad’s Apple Cinnamon Hot Cakes ]
[ Your conditions penalties are reduced by 3 for the next three hours ]
Hmm. “Guess you aren't dead weight after all.” Wait, what’s the difference between hotcakes and pancakes?
Bread shot me a look with a frown from where he had wandered off across the room as I ate. Not so much because what I said upset him so much as he didn’t seem sure if he heard me say anything at all.
After wiping off my face, hands, and lap with a wet wipe. I set the plastic bowl down for Blue to lick clean while Chubby was licking at another container that must have been for Wylina.
Which I had missed seeing Bread hand over to her. I really needed to wake the hell up here.
Looking around, I saw a coffee maker going and helped myself. Three sugars and four creams.
It was almost enough to hide the taste of the coffee itself.
The grinning guy slipped up next to me to refill his cup, "Looking a little grim there Harry.”
He drank his coffee black. Somehow standing the stuff without trying to drown out the taste.
"Saw what they hooked you up with. I can't believe they gave you a Claymore. Even if it looks like they did something to reduce the back blast. Any chance you can save it for me?. I could really put a scare into something with that.”
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I stared at him. “I think anyone could.”
He grinned with a gleam in his eyes. “Not like me. That’s what I do. My Essence is Fear. Combined with my class, Sabatour, and making them bleed a little, I can make them easy picking. Like rats in a sinking ship.”
I stared at him for a moment. Then nodded and walked away from that conversation.
You don’t need magic powers to be scary there grinning guy.
Johanson stepped into the tent and stared at me until I looked up. Then he nodded at me.
Times up.
I set my paper cup down on top of a computer and ignored the dirty look from the army guy working on it before heading outside to begin pushing my cart towards the old factory.
Dam. I could see they tried to keep down the weight, but they had put two green army boxes with clamped down lids in the basket that Little Red had shown me were filled up with ball bearings since they worked so well for me last time, and to counter the weight of the stuff attached to the front of the cart.
With everything they added to the cart it was going to be a pain to get down the ramp without it getting away from me. But at least they seemed to have oiled the wheels since it wasn’t making that noise anymore or catching every few feet.
Or you know, doing anything else I could demand they fix it and put off going inside for a few more hours while they fixed it.
All too soon I found myself inside, looking at a hole with a transparent gray wall separating me from the danger inside.
I didn’t look at Johanson, his friend of the other three men standing around. I didn’t stop to say anything to them to buy me another moment.
What I did do was swear and step into the dungeon.
It was chilly inside. I don’t think I noticed that before. And humid. Humid enough I could see water beading on the yellow railing to either side.
And the blood stains on the ramp going almost all the way down.
It smelled in here, a faint whiff of rot. Which must have come from the dried up blood stains since there weren’t any signs of the dead monkeys that had been left behind here from what I had been told.
Wylina whined a little as she looked up at me.
I looked back and told her, “I was told we could just stand here for an hour and everything would get done. The dungeon would get wreaked and we would be fine.”
But I can’t really do that can I? I need levels and some of those stones. If I wait for the others, I’ll have to share.
I don’t like sharing at the best of times, which this ain’t. But I do have two excuses to delay going down that ramp.
“Show me my numbers.”
[ Hermit 2 ]
[ Might 11 / 13 { 9 due to Conditions }]
[ Health 20 / 22 { 18 due to Conditions}]
[ Agility 10 / 12 { 8 due to Conditions}]
[ Insight 12 / 14 { 12 due to Conditions}]
[ Grace 7 / 9 ]
And everything but my heart and pancreas conditions were zeroed out for the moment by Brad’s Hotcakes.
I grinned and patted Wylina on the head before she could squirm and twist away from me. "Guess you don't count as people after all Wylina. At least no as far as the squares are concerned."
She gave me a cold look, chuffed, and went back to looking down the ramp. Somehow I got the impression she didn’t care much about how the squares saw her.
Taking in a deep breath, I slowly blew it out and killed another few moments adjusting the revolver in its holster on my belt and resettling the shotgun resting on top of the battle cart in front of me.
Then I twisted the cart away from where I had angled it to rest against the railing and started holding it back a bit as it began rolling down the incline.
“Wait, what am I doing?”
I got a long straight run ahead of me, guns, a one way blow up bomb thing, and plenty of time to kill.
Pulling a few blocks of two by four out of my hideaway magic storage space, I chocked the front of the wheels to keep the cart from going anywhere while keeping it aimed down the ramp.
Then I fiddled with the two military cases Little Red had shown me were filled with ball bearing she had collected from the factory to fill them up with.
Finally, I got the putter from out of storage and began tapping it on the railing.
Wylina’s ear went flat and she flinched before she shot me an offended look.
"Sorry girl, but I want a bunch of them up in front of me." I nodded at the white plastic ring. A grimly little thing that clamped together on its end that looked like it had been taken right off of a shower curtain and had gotten a quick swipe with a cleaning cloth before being pressed into service.
"Then you're really going to hear something that will hurt your ears."
She stared at me for a moment, then huffed before sitting on her haunches.
It was only a few minutes before the first Imps began to appear one by one at the foot of the ramp between the flickers of the light at the bottom.