Arcane Survivalist: Apocalyptic Fantasy LitRPG

by Deck Davis

  “Kenny sure as hell came prepared, didn’t he?”

  “Maybe he saw this coming.”

  “It’s something I’ve always considered,” said Ash, sarcastically. “The emergence of a dark matter portal spewing goblins out of its ass.”

  Tony laughed. “Alright, maybe not this, but some kind of disaster. Me personally, I’ve always thought something was heading our way. You should see my ranch.”

  “Are you one of those prepper guys? Don’t tell me you’ve got a rape basement dug underneath it.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. It’s more than likely you’ll need to see it, because there’s no way you’re getting home without supplies.”

  Tony had a point, Ash knew. But supplies were way at the back of his encyclopedia of problems. If goblins and orcs weren’t enough, Ash didn’t have a ride. Even when he did, he’d still have to navigate his way home while avoiding getting attacked by green-skinned bastards.

  He opened the door of the mustang and climbed in. “You drive,” he told Tony. “I’ll pop the window and fry any cuntpuddle who gets close.”

  “Whatever you do, watch the paint work. Kenny will lose his mind if we damage his car. Not that I care what he thinks, but this is a god damned beauty of a vehicle.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Shit, Not the Mustang

  As they left Pasture Downs and hit the rocky wilderness that led to the plant, the sun was beginning to sink in the sky. Ash kept the window down while Tony drove, and the breeze slapped his face at sixty miles per hour and practically glued open his eyelids.

  The horizon seemed uniformly bland; just an expanse of piss-colored rocks with weeds poking through here and there. Ash knew that there were farms on the outskirts of the town, but it didn’t look like anything could grow out here in the wilderness. It was a wonder that people could get by.

  Damn. Another stab of guilt. If the People of Pasture Downs were already struggling to get by, he hadn’t exactly helped them by swindling their money, had he? He wondered if there was something he could do. Maybe he could go clear out all the goblin nests. Would that cover the bill? Nah, probably not.

  “Is family important you, Ash?” said Tony. He didn’t take his eyes away from the windscreen as he spoke.

  “What is this, heart -to-fucking -heart time?”

  “Just leave your irritating brand of wise assery at the door for a sec and answer the question.”

  The seriousness of Tony’s tone washed Ash’s wise-assery clean out of him. He thought about his mum and dad and felt a bad that he wasn’t with them. His Pa was tough as nails and they’d probably be fine, but he still needed to be there.

  “Course it’s important to me,” he said.

  “Me too. Nothing more important than the people who depend on you.”

  “You’re quite the softie at heart, aren’t you?”

  Tony ignored Ash and carried on talking. “So imagine how I felt when I had to explain to my wife that I’d lost all our savings to a shady salesman. The woman nearly beat my ass into next week. Tell me, Ash. How does mirror look when you stare into it? You like what you see?”

  “I love it,” said Ash.

  “Arrogant cock-nosed shitbag.”

  Yep. Can’t argue with that one.

  “Thought you were supposed to be gone by now, anyway? What about your ranch in Greenock? If family’s so important to you, why are you here with me and not at home?”

  “Because I’ve got a thing that you seem to lack, Ash. Common fucking decency. As soon as this is done I’m heading back to the ranch. After that, don’t think I’ll be coming back to Pasture.”

  “What, never?”

  “Think about it, Ash. If this was a power shortage, you’d expect out it to be back on by now. Even if not, surely somebody would have come to see us. But we’ve seen nobody. No-one from the power company, the army, the police. This isn’t just a power cut.”

  “Well, yeah. Are you forgetting the goblins and orcs?”

  “Even putting that to one side; if a whole town loses power for days, you’d think someone would come and have a look and see what’s happening.”

  “Maybe this thing has spread further than we thought.”

  “I pray to God’s holy golden ass that it hasn’t.”

  “Pull up,” said Ash.

  The power station was in front of them now. A giant cylindrical chimney stretched a hundred feet into the sky. Usually it would have had plumes of white steam rising from the top and discoloring the air, but there was nothing coming from it today.

  Ash grabbed a pair of binoculars from beside his feet and scanned the power plant boundaries. A chain-link fence ran around the perimeter, and there was a guard booth at the entrance next to a two-lane road that let cars move in and out of the facility. There was nobody there now, and no signs of movement anywhere. Ash moved his head and looked at every inch of the plant, until he saw a white sign strapped to part of the fence. Something was painted on it in red.

  WARNING: Plant in meltdown. Do not approach.

  He started to notice that there were at least five other versions of the same sign spread across the perimeter. That would have been bad enough, but a malfunctioning plant wasn’t the worst of it.

  He suddenly felt cold. He lowered the binoculars from his eyes and turned to Tony.

  “Oh shit,” was the only thing he could say.

  “Oh shit indeed,” replied Tony, when he noticed what Ash had seen.

  There was a fourteen-foot tall troll stood by the east fence of the plant. It had rock-colored skin and a giant club in its hands. This particular troll obviously had no sense of decency, since its lack of clothes revealed a five-foot long, floppy penis. Blood was smeared all over its chest, indicating that it had recently had a rather large meal.

  “We’ve gotta leave,” said Tony. “All of us. Everyone in town.”

  “No kidding! I’ve wanted to leave all along. Let’s roll.”

  Tony reversed the vehicle and turned around. The wheels crunched over loose stones. Ash was more than a little pleased with the decision. They got to the plant and they’d found that it was in meltdown; job done. It wasn’t the best news, but there was no point hanging around to piss off a troll.

  “You sure you don’t want to come with us to the ranch?” said Tony, as he drove.

  “I’m an asshole, Tony. I’m sure you noticed. Why are you being so nice to me?”

  “Everyone deserves a second chance,” said Tony. “One day you’re going to realize what an dickbag you are, and everything you’ve done will come crashing down on you.”

  “Well, thanks for the offer. It’s nice of you.”

  “Sure you’re not coming, then?” said Tony.

  “Can’t. Need to see my folks.”

  Tony nodded. “Okay. When we get back to town, I’m hauling ass.”

  Tony started to drive back the way they came, toward Pasture Downs. He’d only gone twenty yards when they heard a bang, and suddenly the pickup lurched violently to the left. Tony struggled with the steering wheel, and Ash grabbed his seat belt and checked it was tight enough.

  “Ah hell,” said Tony, slapping the steering wheel. “Puncture.”

  As he put his foot on the breaks and the speed needle dropped, there was another bang.

  “That the other tire?” said Ash.

  Tony shrugged as he slowed the mustang to a stop. “Just my luck. My pa used to say I could fall in a barrel of tits and come out holding a dick.”

  Ash didn’t believe that anyone could be unlucky enough to have two punctures in the space of seconds, yet it seemed like that was exactly what had happened. Pasture Downs was still miles away, which was too far to walk with god knows what waiting on the plains, and a floppy-cocked troll behind them.

  As he thought about how much he didn’t want to walk back to town, something hit the passenger door of the pickup. It sounded like a rock had been thrown at it, but then the sound rang against other parts of the vehicl
e. Ducking down in his seat, Ash realized that they were being shot at.

  He needed to look around, but he didn’t want to life his head in case a bullet smashed his skull like a melon. He ducked in his seat.

  “Any chance I have super enhanced hearing?” he asked FF.

  You’ve got big ears, but your hearing’s normal.

  “Shit, not the mustang,” said Tony. “Kenny’s gonna have a fit.”

  “Who gives a crap about him??”

  “I know, but it’s a beauty.”

  Tony held up his hands, and a blue wall of light gathered in front of the mustang, protecting him and Ash from bullets. Ash lifted his head, but he couldn’t see the source of the shots.

  “Quite a power for a blue mage to have, Tony. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  Tony pressed the door level and kicked it open.

  “You’re a blood mage bastard, aren’t you? Well, I’m a blue mage bastard. Let’s see who’s stupid enough to screw around with us.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Holy Hell, Think We Popped This One

  A vehicle drove toward them from the distance. It was hard to make out clearly at first with all the dust kicking up in front of it, but it was obvious that this wasn’t some Pasture Downs hick taking a drive.

  It was a jeep of some sort, alligator-green with giant wheels and a glass windshield. The canvas roof had been rolled back, so that Ash could now see that four men wearing green khakis sat inside. The one next to the driver had am M16 rifle propped up on the windshield and looked to be aiming for another shot.

  Tony traced out an outline in the air just in front of them. The air began to vibrate like it was shimmering under heat, and a blue light spread into a rectangle shape, shielding the both of them. Man, that was a cool power to have.

  With his shield in place, he unslung his rifle and hid it under the mustang. He then took a roll of sticky type, a bottle of water, and a notepad out from one of his coat pockets, before finally grabbing a Glock pistol and checking the magazine.

  “Where are you getting all this stuff from?”

  “Picked up a coat up in town from the party shop that changed into a trader’s boutique. There was some crooked little bastard in there who sold it to me. Seems crazy, but it’s designed to give me more room to store things. You wouldn’t believe what these pockets can hold.”

  “I’m delighted for you and your new wardrobe choice,” said Ash. “But onto the problem at hand; I’m thinking I blow the tires with an Ignis flame. If we can get to them before they get closer…”

  “There are four US army trained soldiers armed with M16s driving our way. If they get even an inch of their shit together, they’re gonna spray it over us. Fighting is the stupid thing to do here.”

  “We can’t die, Tony. We don’t need to worry about getting shot.”

  Tony punched him on the shoulder hard enough that it stung.

  “Still hurts, don’t it?” he said.

  Point proven, thought Ash. Just because he couldn’t die, it didn’t mean he relished getting pumped full of bullets. They said a hole in the stomach was the slowest, most painful way to die. Ash could think of plenty more. A knife to the spine, getting your cock blown off…better play this safe. But how?

  “They’re not exactly the Brady Bunch riding out to say hello. The bastards have already shot at us,” he said. “Best we can do is hope the mustang can outrun them.”

  “If only one tire was popped, maybe we could change it before they got to us. Doubt it though, since your hands are softer than a baby’s ass and I doubt you ever changed a wheel in your life. With two tires screwed, our options are petty limited.”

  “Perhaps we better appeal to their better nature.”

  “I might have something up my sleeves. Whatever I do, be a good boy and play along, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  He held his Glock pistol and partly concealed it with the sleeve of his coat. The gun was pristine, the frame made from ink-black polymer plastic. Small wisps of blue light drifted from the magazine body.

  “That one magically charged, too?”

  “You know it.”

  “Okay, now I really gotta know what your class is. Don’t give me any of this blue mage bullshit.”

  “Now’s not the time, hotshot.”

  Tony’s face was calm and his breathing was steady. He acted as though he faced this kind of situation every day of his life, but Ash guessed that was the effect of being a prepper. Tony was the kind of guy who’d spent years storing food and reading survival manuals, getting ready for an apocalypse that most people didn’t believe would ever come. It meant that mentally he had rehearsed the crap hitting the fan enough times that he wasn’t scared when it actually happened.

  The green jeep was closer now, near enough that he could see that the soldier’s shaven heads sported days of growth. One of them held onto the sides of the jeep as they tumbled over the rocky plains, while another trained his rifle on Ash.

  When the soldier pulled the trigger, a bullet sped near his head and made a dinging sound as it lodged into the roof of the mustang.

  Ash jumped at the sound.

  “What the fuck are they firing at?” he said.

  “Us, dickhead.”

  “I’m going to grill them like grandma’s chicken wings.”

  “Don’t worry yourself about that. Now’s a time for some cool, calculated maneuvering. When they stop I want you to give yourself up and follow my lead.”

  “Give myself? I’m sorry, my vocabulary seems to be lacking that combination of words.”

  Another bullet hit the mustang, and Tony dropped to the ground. At first Ash thought that he had been hit, but Tony turned his head, opened his right eye and winked. He didn’t know what Tony’s plan was, but he didn’t really have much of a choice other than to follow it. Apocalypse Gandalf seemed to be playing dead.

  Ash shrugged. Better than nothing.

  “I’ll follow your lead, captain.”

  As the jeep got closer, Ash put his hand in the air to show that he wasn’t carrying a weapon. The soldiers drove it within five meters of Ash and Tony and then stopped. The door opened and two men in army fatigues stepped out. Another man stayed behind the wheel of the vehicle and watched them, while another squinted down the barrel of a rifle which he rested over the side of the jeep.

  “Fellas,” said Ash, spreading out his hands. “You got the memo too?”

  The men walked toward Ash and they kept their M16’s pointed at his head. They were well-built and looked athletic, and their heavy khakis didn’t seem to hinder their movements.

  “What memo?” asked one of them.

  “Someone dropped a letter through my door. Told me to be on this very spot at this very time, and I’d meet four slack-jawed dumb fucks.”

  One of the soldiers lifted his rifle higher.

  “Ignore this dickhead,” one soldier told the others.

  Two of them stepped forward now, one towering over the other, giving them a little-and-large look. They both had crew cuts, but the shorter guy had a dark beard that spread across his cheeks and chin, before being sharply shaven away just under his jawline. The taller one trained his weapon on Ash, but he seemed to hold it awkwardly, like a nun grasping a cock. He had a cross necklace around his neck that tinkled against his dog tag.

  The two men stopped in front of Ash. The taller one stared with an emotionless face. The other frowned like he was chewing on a shit sandwich.

  “We’re from Fort Knowles,” the shorter soldier said. He had something of a bulldog look about him; grouchy eyes, droopy eyelids. “And things have gone to hell.”

  “Straight to hell,” repeated the taller one.

  The smaller guy looked at his partner and shook his head. “Stop parroting me,” he said. “We’ve been through this. Sheesh, always copying what I say…”

  “Sorry.”

  The soldier looked at Ash.

  “Things have gone to hell
in a handcart filled with donkey dicks, and everyone’s leaving the base. Pretty soon Pasture Down is gonna get stripped bare, since it’s the only place for miles around in this godforsaken part of the county. Man, I wish I’d never enlisted.”

  “No, you don’t,” said the tall one. “What else you got going for you? Your girlfriend dumped you, remember?”