by Dan Thomas
“Impressive,” Max nodded. “So, what am I looking at?”
“Eager, I like that,” Mamba gave him a sideways glance before turning back to the view. “Well, you’ve already been acquainted with the command tower.”
“That’s the building with the big gun, right?”
“Uh-huh. The turret’s not the only important thing about that tower, but the only thing you need to know about it right now is that you don’t go in there without permission.”
“Right,” Max said as Remington and Rednex, one of the Ravagers his Crew hadn’t seen for a while, came out of the command tower, talking as they headed for another one of the buildings.
Mamba shifted and pointed to the large reverse L-shaped building just below them with a slanted roof and a large stone yard. “That there is the stable. We keep all of our animals in there, and that’s where any recruits spend most of their time, to begin with...that’s you.”
“Whew,” Max breathed. “Only way is up, I guess.” He chuckled.
Mamba cracked a half-smile. “I think you’ll do just fine here, Murf. All right, on our left is the workshop, if you get some Traits for crafting behind you, you can give us a hand with weapons and armor.”
“And the straw dummies and targets next to it are the shooting range?” Max asked, eyeing up the craters in the dirt around the targets that looked like they had been much deeper before being hastily filled with manure and stone.
“Exactly. It doesn’t look like much, but we’ve fired weapons there that make your pew pew look like peanuts. The other side of that is the barn, where we store most of our tools and resources, and then on the opposite side of the base is the farm.”
Max squinted as he looked past the command tower to the large patch of tilled ground. Two figures within the fenced area worked on digging among the leaves and fruits of the plants. To the right of the farm was another gate that Max guessed led down to the river. His gaze fell on the shiny metal cylinders at the back of the farm area. He could only guess they were storage for something. Water, maybe?
“I guess I’m up to speed then,” Max said as he gave one last sweeping look at the base, eyeing for any weak points, blind spots the turret couldn’t see, or flaws in the walls.
Mamba clapped his hands together. “Yep, that’s the tour over. I know it was whistle-stop, but you’ll find your feet quickly. In the meantime, you ready to get to work?”
“Yessir.” Max gave an overly zealous salute.
“All right, check your menu, you’ll have an invite in the Crew Relations tab.”
Max opened up his menu, seeing that he had a new invite from the Ravagers, which he promptly accepted. “Done!” He looked back down into the base. They had several other constructions that Mamba hadn’t pointed out. He could see a scorched area where wood was likely burned into charcoal, as well as a nearby pit covered in palm leaves that looked as though it was used to make saltpeter for gunpowder among several cooking pots over old fires dotted throughout the base.
Mamba shook his head with a smirk before heading back down the hatch, Murf at his heels.
Once back down on the ground Mamba, led the way across the open space, Max calling over Pluto, who trotted over to join them.
They headed for the yard, which was walled on two sides by the high stone walls of the stable. Two doors were leading inside, one about the size of a normal garage door at the long part of the ‘L,’ and the second, much larger door led into the second half of the building. Even though the large door was shut, Max could hear shuffling, deep breaths, and the grunts of large animals. Max’s heart sank a little. His crew had only recently been able to tackle taming the larger denizens of Primeva, their efforts culminating in the Abelisaurs.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what monsters the Ravagers had access to.
“Looks like Raollin is already hard at work.” Mamba pointed to the half-full wheelbarrow outside of the open, smaller door.
Max headed for the door, mentally commanding Pluto to stay put. “You gonna introduce us?”
“Yeah,” Mamba said dubiously, following Max inside.
Max blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the stable. The dusty air caught at the back of his throat a little, and the room smelled of livestock and straw.
Pens of various sizes lined the walls of the room, a solid wall to the right separated this section of the barn from the next. Within the long pen to his left, he could see a sizeable pack of Deinonychus playing with one another. Soft crooning told him that there was also an Ozraptor somewhere, a dino rare around their area that while smaller than a Deinonychus, was renowned for its sense of smell, and colorful sounds it made when on the hunt. In the center of the room was a ladder leading up to a platform above, which was stacked to the ceiling with bales of straw and dried plant matter.
“Hi there?” an unsure voice called from the hay store above.
“Hi! I’m Murf.” Max gave a wave to the outline of the figure.
Mamba stepped beside Max. “Murf’s new here, just arrived. For now, he’s here to lend you a hand with the stable. Let me know if he causes any trouble.” Mamba turned to walk out before pausing and turning to Max. “Oh, that’s Raollin. Good to have you onboard, Murf.” Mamba slapped him on the back before heading out into the clear air.
Max kept himself from staring daggers in the back of Mamba’s head, instead watching Raollin scramble down the ladder with a bale of straw slung over one shoulder. He wore light cloth and hide armor, and the only weapons Max could see on him were the tools he wore around his belt that jangled as he climbed down.
When he reached the floor, he dropped the bale onto the ground, which sent up a fresh cloud of dust.
“Hey, Murf. Uh, if you’re here to help out, could you give me a hand getting some more straw down? I’m laying fresh bedding for the dinos,” Raollin said.
Max nodded. “Can do. But first, I’ve got a Lambeosaurus in the yard. Where do you want him?”
Raollin’s eyebrows raised in mild surprise. “We’ve got a new dino? Uh, a Lambeosaurus? That’ll probably go next door. Could you take him into the pen with the Iguanodons?”
Max snapped his fingers into finger gun. “Sure thing.”
“Oh! And while you’re in there...you mind giving the pens a quick clean out? I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
“Sure thing,” Max said without the finger guns.
Heading back out onto the yard, Max let out a breath, dropping his shoulders, which he had only just realized were so tense.
He’d done it.
After so long preparing, he’d managed to make it farther into the Ravagers’ base than any of their previous attempts. And as far as he knew, the Ravagers were totally unaware of his deception. Max almost punched the air with elation, but quickly regained his composure.
He walked up and patted Pluto on the shoulder. “We’re gonna be all right, thanks for being my golden ticket.” He looked past the dino at the rest of the base. Smoke streamed steadily out of the chimney of the workshop. Someone was busy being productive. A few other players that Max didn’t recognize walked from the barn toward the farm, where a third person was still at work. He couldn’t see any of the main Ravagers, but the Crew wasn’t at all idle. Max could count six players either walking around or working from where he stood.
“That’s enough staring,” Max grabbed hold of the thick handle on the larger door and tugged at it. Instead of swinging out, the door slid on rollers, nearly taking Max off-balance.
The second half of the stable was much larger, the pens built all of the way up to the ceiling without a hayloft.
Gingerly he stepped inside, looking at the shapes of large animals watching him curiously as he stood silhouetted in the doorway. He wrinkled his nose at the musty air. He couldn’t tell whether it was old straw, larger dinosaurs, or the fact that his smell was more sensitive, but the pungent air caught in the back of his throat.
“Come on, Pluto,�
� Max called the Lambeosaurus, which joined him peering through the doorway. Pluto let out an anxious hum. “It’s all right, you’re gonna have new friends. And this is only temporary anyway.”
Max stepped inside.
“Oh, boy,” he muttered as he looked up at the thick muzzle of a Majungatholus staring straight down at him over the gate of its pen. The Majungatholus emitted a low rumble from the back of its throat as it watched the unfamiliar player and animal with dark red eyes that almost glowed in the dusky light. The gate was high, extending above Max’s head, but the carnivore inside had no trouble peering over the top of it.
The thing seemed entirely more colossal in the closed area of the pen than it had in the jungle.
“I guess you were right, Chopsticks,” Max muttered.
Taking his eyes off of the beast watching him, he stepped farther into the stable, looking at the six solidly built pens around the building. Although not all of the animals were standing to look over the front walls of their pens, Max could see enough. Next to the Majungatholus was an even larger pen, housing three Carnotaurs, about a third of the size of the larger predator, with much duller colorings. Across the room, he could see a mass of off-white fur with huge ivory fangs curled up, but it wasn’t asleep, eyeing him up with bright yellow eyes.
“That’s definitely not from this world,” Max turned to his left, rising onto his tiptoes to look over the lower gate at two Utahraptors curled up in the straw.
“Man, these guys are not messing around—Charlie!” Max ran over to one of the middle pens, which had two Iguanodons and what looked like Parasaurolophus, but one of the four dinos within was unmistakably the loyal Gryposaurus. Upon hearing his name, Charlie looked up inquisitively. Not recognizing Murf, he turned back down to the bundle of leaves he was munching on.
Max sighed. “Nice to see you, too. I’m glad that you’re all right. And I’ve brought someone for you to meet.” Max pulled the deadbolt holding the pen door closed, and swung the door open, ushering Pluto in and shutting the door behind him. The other dinos plodded over and sniffed him as he entered before they all went back to eating.
He moved across the pens, peeking in until he found Jupiter and Saturn standing idly, eyes half-closed as they snoozed. Max smiled as he watched them breathing rhythmically. “We’ll get you guys home soon.”
Max glanced around the stable once more. The Ravagers certainly had a formidable roster of dinos, and apparently at least one off-world animal. Max scratched the back of his head, mentally going through all of the dinos the Coprolite Crew had. Abe and Lis could manage the Carnotaurs, but they’d have to take on the Majungatholus, they didn’t have anything else that stood a chance. That left them with using their raptors, and maybe the Iguanodons to engage the Carnotaurs. Max shook his head, they didn’t stand a chance, they’d need to find something else. The large carnivores must have taken an awful lot of resources to upkeep, his Crew was still finding their feet with keeping just two fed.
Max looked back to the Utahraptor pen. They’d have to take care of those, too.
His eyes came to rest on a wide shovel and wheelbarrow leaning against a wall and sighed. “Time to get to work.”
Chapter Forty-One
“Hey, newb!” Bullet57 called out to Murf as he was emptying his umpteenth barrel of dino poop onto the composting pile. Yep, he was still shoveling shit and the novelty was wearing off fast. Every time he thought he’d cleaned up all the steaming piles of dung, he turned around and another of the Ravagers’ dinos had left more for him.
“Yep.” Max raised his hand. Bullet57 was a noob just like Murf, but he didn’t seem to know it. It didn’t take more than a few evenings spent in the base to realize that the guy had an arrogant air and a penchant for ordering the others around as if he were in charge.
“Take this over to the command tower, Striker needed it for the turret.” Bullet57 held up an adjustable wrench and waved it at Murf.
Max looked past Bullet at the few Ravager recruits who were tending the growing area. He recognized one as Chack, someone who seemed to enjoy watching Bullet’s antics.
“Sure.” Max didn’t like being ordered around but this was a good opportunity to get a look inside the tall central tower the Ravagers used as their base of operations. So far, in Max’s many trips back and forth across the yard between the dino barn and the compost heap, he’d only seen the main members of the Ravagers Crew go inside, which aligned with what Mamba had told him at the beginning of the week.
It was off-limits to noobs, but not, it seemed, to noobs carrying an adjustable wrench.
He propped the wheelbarrow against the fence. Maybe once he handed over the wrench, the Ravagers might task him with another job so he could get a good look at the rest of the base.
“Anytime today,” Bullet57 drawled in a bored tone and rolled his eyes.
“Got it.” Max held his hand out for the wrench and Bullet slapped it down hard into his palm. Murf’s arm swung down under the pressure and when Bullet57 let go of the wrench, it nearly fell out of Murf’s hand, but he curled his fingers around it and held on, not letting the other player have the satisfaction of watching Murf bend down and retrieve it from the ground.
The guy was a bully. When Max’s crew attacked the base, he was personally going to plant Bullet’s face down in a nice fresh pile of dino poop.
“Take it to the command tower, go in through the front door, and take the steps to the top.” Bullet57 pointed at the gun turret that crowned the tall tower. From what Max could tell, it was often manned by one of the more experienced Ravagers, perhaps acting as a lookout as well. If the attack was going to be successful, they would need to deal with it.
As he crossed the open space toward the tower, Max surreptitiously looked from side to side. The base and particularly the tower were well planned. No one could go in or out without crossing the wide-open space between the buildings close to the walls and the center of the base, which would leave a potential invader vulnerable and exposed. They’d need stealth and cunning to take out the main tower.
Hurrying on, Max walked down the wide ramp dug into the ground toward the large, sturdy metal door. He pushed the surprisingly light door open, looking at the dimly lit, open space within.
Directly to his left was a narrow stairway winding up the wall toward a hatch in the high ceiling. The rest of the floor continued to slope down, first harshly, evening out as it extended underground past the foundations of the tower.
Max held his breath for a second. He couldn’t hear anything.
Looking around nervously, he stepped down the ramp, farther inside. His footsteps echoed as he went. Once he was lower than the foundations of the building, he could see that there was much more space than he had originally thought had been dugout. Electrical lights cast a dim glow over several doors set into concrete walls all around him. The majority of them were large, both high and wide. Not as big as the gates on the surface, but certainly large enough to fit several animals through. That and the high ceiling made Max sure that this place had been created so that dinos or vehicles could enter from somewhere, or perhaps be stored underground. Max’s stomach dropped. He thought that the dinos in the stables were going to be a challenge. If they were hiding away any more underground, his Crew didn’t stand a chance.
His eye lay to rest on one particularly stout-looking metal door with a code panel to the side of it.
“Where do you lead?” he whispered as he crossed the open space toward the heavy door. There was an amber light sticking out of the wall above it, that looked similar to sensor alarms Max had seen once in Gyromeda.
He doubted it would contain anything normally found on Primeva. He’d guess the door was built to keep out prying eyes who would see just how much tech and other equipment from off-world the Ravagers had. On his first week in the Ravagers’ base, he’d hit the motherlode. All he had to do was figure out how to get in there without setting off the alarm.
A click of a gun ham
mer being pulled back stopped him in his tracks.
“I brought the wrench.” He held it up as if it were a shield as one of the Ravagers he hadn’t seen before aimed a pistol at his heart. “Don’t shoot,” he added lamely and put his hands above his head.
“You know you’re not supposed to be in here, right?” The guy kept his pistol aimed at Murf’s heart, which was galloping along like a rampaging herd of Parasaurolophus.
“I have the wrench you need.” Max once more held up the wrench as evidence.
“No one needs a wrench.”
“Not even an adjustable one?” Max asked lightly.
The guy shook his head. “I don’t remember seeing you in the base before.” His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I’m new,” Max blurted out. “Mamba let me in, I came with Pluto. The Lambeosaurus.”
“Oh!” The guy’s eyes lit up. “You’re Pew Pew.”
Max screwed up his face. That sure was going to haunt him. “Murf. My name is Murf.”
“Yeah, sure.” He lowered his gun as he chuckled to himself. “So, who told you to bring the wrench into the command center?”
“Who told me?” Max repeated as it suddenly became clear that he was not supposed to be there, and no one needed a wrench.
“Yeah, someone handed you the wrench and sent you over here knowing that you’d get in trouble. That’s an asshole move. If one of the others found you, they’d probably kill you, take your stuff and kick you out.” The Ravager grinned. “We run a tight ship here, and we don’t allow anyone to break the rules.”
“Bullet57, that’s who gave me the wrench.” Max saw no reason to keep Bullet’s secret. He had no reason to protect the player who had tried to get Max thrown out of the Ravagers before he’d gotten a chance to gather enough information to bring down the crew.
“Ah, I know him. He thinks the way to prove himself is to put others down. He doesn’t understand we’re a team.” The Ravager took a step toward Max. “Shall we?” He indicated the exit. Max had seen all he was going to get to see inside the command center for now.
