by Han Yang
We hadn’t started digging for coal in the mine yet, it was on the agenda. Even if we didn’t use the steamboat, the coal could be used but we wanted to be ready and made sure we did it right.
“Keep an eye on him, will ya,” Roma said, hugging her friend. When they parted, Roma kissed me tenderly. “Ensure she makes it back to us.”
“What about me?” Craig joked on his way out.
“We’re going to be careful,” I said, trying to reassure her.
I could see Roma wanting to say something deep and meaningful. Her face fought her emotions until she sighed. “Be safe.”
We departed the mine, heading up the ramp. The lone oxen who refused to return inside meandered near the lip of the basin. We cautiously walked up the ramp, taking our time to ensure no beasts had used the last half hour to sneak up on our home.
“I got nothing,” Yilissa said.
“Clear as well. Picking the cart back up,” Craig said.
The sun had reached its zenith for the day, beating down a crisp heat. I gulped some water before we stepped off for the ten-minute walk to Lornsto.
Yilissa asked, “I didn’t say anything earlier, but if we find another group with a place above ground, don’t hate me if I stay with them.”
“When the tower goes up, you can sleep in it if you want,” I said.
“We both know the tower will get knocked down or occupied by a narock real quick,” Yilissa said.
I frowned, kicking a small rock with my boot. “I’d love to have some great insight or wisdom to alleviate your concerns, but I don’t. I’m your friend, not your keeper. If you choose to leave, I’ll support you.”
“Wait, you’re taking people to new homes?” Craig asked. “We also want out of the mine.”
“No Craig,” Yilissa sassed. “I’m just letting Theo know I’m miserable in the dark. Today has done wonders. I had this huge plan to escape if we never surfaced. Now I won’t. However, I’ll swap sides to another group if we find one living above ground.”
“Ah,” Craig said with a snicker. “He’s so receptive because Theo knows that we won’t find what you seek.”
“There is always hope,” I told him. “If we find a secure base that the narocks cannot defeat. I’ll move us out of the mine for a better home. This isn’t some vanity thing where I have to be in charge, and we won’t hear some other person's orders to live in a better settlement.”
The conversation dove into what-ifs while we journeyed to Lornsto. The road meandered toward the ruined homes, and I couldn’t help but only partially pay attention to the conversation. When we reached the ruined town, I chugged back some more water, calling for a break.
“We leave the coal here and secure the docks. If everything checks out, we board the Apple. Once we’ve shifted all the cargo to the mine, we decide if we want to journey to Opo. Any questions?” I asked.
Yilissa and Craig capped their water containers, shook their heads no, and followed behind me. We walked down the cobbled road that led towards the docks, each of us tensed as we neared.
I kept scanning for indents of a lobo’narock, fearing the worst, and thankfully didn’t see any signs prior to the descending slope.
When we reached the spot where the road dipped down, I snuck off the main path towards a boulder on the ridgeline.
The second I peeked around the rock to inspect the sloping shore, I felt my arm hairs raise. All the lounging narocks I expected to see were noticeably absent. The terrifying sight happened to be the thousand divots in the rough terrain.
Without a doubt, a lobo’narock had been on the shores.
Based on the impact sights, the lobo’narock ran through here, chasing something or things during the rains. Wherever it went, I couldn’t tell. Hell, I didn’t know how the cart would make it down to the docks, because there were so many indents.
And the docks were the next issue. A few sections lay in ruin, gaps between planks caused my heart to sink in disappointment. Where our original ship was slipped - the fishing boat from Laro – the docking was fine.
The ship was not.
The bow jutted out of the water with the rest lurking beneath the surface. That steamboat, the good ole Apple, she tempted me to dare the gaps and dark brown waters. The river was high on the waterline too, meaning any webo’narock near the surface would have less room to cross.
I hated it. I hated the whole situation. The shore lay a mess, the fishing boat had sunk, and the docks were almost unusable.
“Well shit,” I said, returning to the back of the rock.
I let the others survey the scene before talking out our options.
“This is terrible,” Craig grumbled.
Yilissa finished her observance and said, “Time to go home. The big fella is hiding down there.”
“Um, I actually don’t think he is, but he might be. Alright, time to lay out some facts. The lobo’narock eats webo’narocks, like they’re a delicacy to them. Sorta how the prog’narocks hunger for our flesh. The lobo’narock should see us, realize it’s well-fed and ignore us. These divots prove it hunted here,” I said.
“Well, then what? Do we dare those docks? For a blasted shower curtain?” Yilissa said.
“Huh,” Craig said. “What! No... This is about a shower curtain. I don’t want to die because others are sneaking peeks at the ladies.”
“And you wonder why I want to leave,” Yilissa said.
“Probably far worse is happening in other settlements than boys trying to see boobs,” Craig said. “You literally have a saint running the mine. The guy is about as wholesome as a priest.”
“The house of common sense and decency. We’re sidetracking and it's because you’re nervous. I may not love the idea, but that cargo may save our lives. Cover me,” I said, leaving the boulder.
I walked down towards the ridge and descended the road. The cobblestones mostly held the weight where the lobo’narock stepped on the path, cracking in some places. The more I studied the terrain, the more I noticed that the cart could navigate the indents, but it’d be dicey at the docks.
“What are you doing?” Yilissa hissed.
“It’s more than a shower curtain. It's a new home or more ammo or fresh seeds to plant. We need transportation and all we have right now is a single wagon and some hand carts. While we can use the wagon, I’d rather take the fancy boat,” I said.
“So, you’re just going to offer yourself as bait?” Yilissa shouted.
A single narock burst from the shoreline, splashing in a spray as it jumped onto the river rocks.
I hefted Henry to my shoulder, waiting for the beast to cross half the distance. For a few seconds, it studied me, taking its time before committing to an attack.
I stood patiently, keeping the scope firmly planted on the beast. Whatever hesitation the webo’narock had, ended. The long strides resulted in it quickly closing the distance and when I knew the shot was perfect, I caressed the trigger back.
Boom!
The round slammed into the front shoulder, causing the beast to nosedive into a crater. I carefully reloaded my weapon while walking up the hill. Gaining more distance made sense to me.
Yilissa and Craig lined up shots as the beast struggled in the hole.
Boom!
Crack!
Both rounds sunk into the back of the creature. The webo’narock slowly extracted itself before succumbing to its wounds with a thumping flop. This version was small, if I had to guess, an escapee of the fighting against the lobo’narock.
I waited patiently while the others reloaded.
When they were ready, I strode toward the docks. The webo’narock tried to rise when I neared, not even being able to stand. If I had to guess, it’d be dead in a few seconds and was likely paralyzed.
I already had Henry at the ready, tracking the beast as I passed it by, but decided to spare the bullet.
I deviated off the path, navigating the divot holes. The webo’narock managed to move a few steps before coll
apsing again in death.
I peered into a few indents, noticing pits of water devoid of life.
Downstream, sections of the dock boards piled up against the river stones. I cautiously neared the shore, seeing the lapping river water constantly smoothing the stones on the shore.
I plucked two boards off the rocks, tucking them under my left arm while letting Henry hang off my back. I pulled out a dragon for safety.
A minute later, I had two boards repairing the ramp main path above the water. I continued to grab ruined planks to connect the sections of docking that lay in ruin. When I reached the sunken fishing vessel, a set of narock eyes peered out, but quickly submerged.
“Well great,” I muttered.
Not wasting any time, I hurried back to the shore and waited. Ten minutes later, those eyes never showed again. With gills, they didn’t need to and I’d be forever guessing what the murky waters held.
I sighed and saw there was only one portion of the docks left to haphazardly repair. So close, but so far. Craig and Yilissa arrived with the cart, meeting me near the shore.
“One left at least. No idea about inside the steamboat, but I’ve been super loud. This one doesn’t want trouble or is biding its time. Even though there is one left, I think we're safe,” I said.
“You think?” Craig said.
Instead of arguing with him, I walked further down the beach to grab two more boards. When I confidently walked the shoreline, he scoffed. I, of course, had Henry ready and watched the lapping river like a hawk.
“If I had to guess, the webo’narock hid in the fishing ship’s wreck to avoid the lobo’narock. They’re fond of living and will probably only scavenge at night. This is the way of the webo’narock. They aren’t all mindless brutes, but yeah,” I said, walking down the docks.
I reached the spot near the sunken ship and tensed. Yilissa and Craig waited at the shore. The slap of the boards connected the dock, and I used the wide plank to finish the distance.
No webo’narock lunged out of the water and I sure as hell didn’t relax because I hadn’t been attacked. If anything, I was more nervous than ever.
An eddy of water swirled near the jutting bow of the fishing boat, the swirl causing a hypnotic vortex. I paused and waited, tearing my eyes off the spot as I tried to find a threat. The repeating thumps of the coal crossing the docks caused me to frown.
Yilissa lined the boards up and Craig pushed the laden cart over them. I figured they’d break, but they held, and I let go of the breath I’d been holding. When the teetering cart reached me, I cautiously continued to the steamboat.
We carefully reached the back of the ship with no surprises. Craig found his confidence. He set the cart down and hopped onto the back of the boat.
The stern deck contained dried feces and caked on blood. Something died here.
The double doors to enter the main passenger benches laid open, gnarled in destruction. Without a doubt, a narock busted into the main cabin. I figured the beast died at some point because nothing attacked us.
Craig extended a ramp for the coal, and I pushed the cart onto the boat.
“Dump it here, it goes in this hatch,” he said, pointing to a horizontal covering he opened. “We will -”
A baby narock leaped out of the coal storage, latching onto Craig’s ankle.
I rushed the cart forward, trying to dump the contents onto the little beast. Craig fell backwards, dragging the baby away from the coal that rained into its home.
I whipped a dragon off my hip and tried to fire on the baby without hitting Craig. The two were one at this distance. I knew I’d need to get closer and -
Crack!
The head exploded and so did Craig’s ankle.
I stared down in shock at the damage. I could have repaired the ankle. In time it would have healed. The moment the .44 round burst the bone into bits I only saw the results for what they were, horrific.
Craig screamed obscenities, but I ignored him. I knew his cries would stir attention.
“We have to go,” Yilissa said, pointing to the other side of the river. A dozen webo’narocks bounded into the river. “They’re coming.”
“We’ll never make it with him back up the hill in time. Untie us,” I ordered. “Hurry.”
I kneeled beside Craig, smacking his face for attention. “What!?”
“How do we start this thing?”
“Carry me… argh… inside. Go down a set of stairs.”
I hefted him up and onto my shoulder with his head near my lower back. I strode into the main cabin.
A baby narock cowered behind a table. I rounded the corner and blasted the creature without a care.
“To… your… right,” Craig grunted.
I spun, finding a descending staircase. Carrying him down was tedious, but I managed with the help of a guide rail. When I arrived in the coal room my boots squished into narock remains.
I fanned my dragon from side to side, not finding any targets.
“Oh shit!” Yilissa shouted from above. “A big ass monster is eating the webo’narocks swimmers. And… we’re free.”
I could feel the boat moving.
“We’re drifting towards Opo. You need to start the fire to… open the inlet… increase the pressure… then unlock… the wheel. Vision fading. I -”
He stopped talking. I realized I probably should have kept his head above his heart. Craig for sure was experiencing shock. I plopped him onto the pile of coal.
The furnace doors were splayed wide with a clean plate. I saw a closed door with the letters kindling etched into the metal. I propped it open, set up a nice tower, and used my fire-starter.
When the flames licked higher while spreading, I began tossing coal in. This would be my first time using a steam engine. The way I understood it, the heat boiled the water. The water turned into steam and built-up pressure. This pressure pushed a piston that rotated the big wheel.
The steam pressure vented after it was pushed far enough back and the piston reseated itself, blocking the pressure release to repeat the process. For now, I just built up the fire and opened up the inlet valve.
As the heat in the small room increased, I opened two side windows to allow fresh air and vent the small room.
Yilissa arrived just as the pressure gage neared a green section. “Holy shit, it’s hot down here.”
“Are they following us?” I asked.
“Oh, heavens no. The lobo fella ate them up in the water and hunted them down on the shore. I swear, when I waved, it winked. I think we know why the one in the ruined fishing vessel hid now,” she said with a grunt.
“Pull that lever forward and then down,” I said, guiding her hand with a pointing gesture.
She pulled and dropped the lever.
A loud grating sound shrieked through the small space. I unlocked the wheel and next thing we knew, the ship lurched forward. The sound of the big back waterwheel was soothing.
“Alright, I need to check this every few hours and make sure we stay in the green. Yellow means add more coal. Green is good. Red means to drain the reservoir and open the venting ports on the port side of the boat,” I said.
“Damn, you scholars are impressive sometimes,” Yilissa said. “Is there anything you don’t know?”
“Uh, actually it's on the gauge and Craig was a great help,” I said, showing the metal sign under the gauge that explained some basic things.
“Go figure. Alright, what’s the plan boss?” Yilissa said, pointing to a passed-out Craig.
“You shot him.”
“Not on purpose,” she said with hands on her hips. “Not my fault.”
“Yeah, well, the ankle is ruined. This is a time before laser surgery and bone materializations. His ankle is ruined and will never heal right,” I said unhappily.
I opened the tool section, finding a handsaw meant for cutting wood. After sorting through the tools, it was this on a dull hatchet. Neither was perfect but blunt force could break the bone fu
rther up the leg.
“You want to cut the kindling?” Yilissa said.
I used a rag and canteen water to clean the saw the best I could. After, I bathed the blade in fire, giving it a second wipe down after. I handed the tool to Yilissa, bent my knees, and grunted to pick up Craig.
Yilissa knew I wasn’t using the saw for kindling.
She just didn’t want to admit what was about to happen. I struggled up to the main cabin where cushioned rows of seats would allow passengers to comfortably relax during their voyage.
“I’m going to keep us from beaching,” Yilissa said, continuing up the stairs to the wheelhouse. “Hey Theo.”
“Yeah, Yilissa?”
“Sorry. Sorry for both of you. Mostly him though. It can’t be fun to do this,” she said.
“I got bored one day,” I said while stripping back his pants. “I decided to research chainsaws. Something about cutting down a tree in seconds fascinated me and we have nothing but trees on Earth.
“Turns out the chainsaw was invented to perform amputations. I then spent the next week performing amputations. Never done one for real, and this is as real as it gets. Kayla needs her husband. He’ll die if I don't cut this off. Even still, it may get infected to the point he succumbs. I don’t have the means to make antibiotics,” I grumbled.
I glanced up, seeing she already left. Before I began the operation, I pulled out a mostly clean undershirt and my suture kit.
“Better restrain you in case you wake up,” I said to the muttering man who was still out.
I grabbed some rope meant to tie down the boat, knowing it would have to do. After a few minutes, Craig kept muttering while I tied him to the bench. It wasn’t perfect, but it would help, or so I hoped.
After a quick inspection of the wound, I decided to use the ‘fish-mouth’ method. I sliced the skin, preserving as much of the leg as I could.
This woke him up, and he sure as shit wasn’t happy.
While I explained the situation, Craig didn’t share my calm bedside manner. He threatened to kill me a dozen times while I sawed a circle around his leg until I reached bone. This saw wasn’t meant for bone, meaning the tibia and fibula gave me all sorts of problems. After a good five minutes, my forearm burned and -
