by Han Yang
“Shower only with a talk about rules later?” Beverly asked.
“Yeah, I guess. But Beverly, I’m not tossing horny teenagers out of the group if it’s consensual. Lenny and his crew spent a month living together without parents,” I said.
“Times, they are a changin,” Kevin said. “Trisa woke up. She was miserable. I put her back under.”
“She’ll become an addict,” I said, running my hands through grimy hair. “At the same time, she can fight the drugs later. How’s our speed?”
“Good,” Craig said, reaching down for a cigar. He passed me a stick before offering the others out. Only Yilissa and I accepted. “I know this ship. If we run high green to low orange, we tow much smother. There’s risks but with the recent cleaning she got, Apple will be fine.”
“Eta?” I asked.
“Six-day trip normally. I suspect eight with the barge,” Craig replied, extending a match. “Five or six more, assuming smooth sailing.”
I glanced back at the wooden barge that fought being towed. The front of the barge tilted up, almost planning the water.
“We shifted the weight back. Means if the chains snap, we lose most if not all the goods, but it will help by cutting a day or so,” Craig said as I studied the chains. “Figured a day early will be beneficial.
“A day or we lose everything…”
“It’s not just that, it lowers the strain on the chains, the wear on the wheel, and results in a smoother ride. I know this ship, trust in that knowledge,” Craig said.
“Hard to argue about that. How about the opposite of getting along too well? Any issues with people not getting along?” I asked.
Yilissa stuck an elbow into my ribs. “We’re managing.”
“Is this your way of saying let it be?”
Bella slung a leg over her knee and said, “We’re happy to be alive and ready for a bit more space.”
“Yes, the barge can be stripped down for support beams later, maybe even flooring. The mine can expand, and it’ll need better defenses too. We sure do have a whole lot of supplies to turn it into a home,” I said proudly.
Fen reached back and brought out the spear gun I had been shot with. “You didn’t seem overly concerned that a squena attacked you,” Fen said.
“Ah, yeah, my unwelcomed stalker. To be fair, they normally are not aggressive toward humans. It could have been trapped like me, or it could have been hunting. However, let us start with how they play a role on Snagglewood,” I said.
Fen glanced at Kevin. Kevin smiled and said, “At first I suspected Earth was one of the eleven continents on Snagglewood. What we called Criston, maybe you call Earth?”
“Uh. No. Let me explain where I come from. We have time.” Over the next hour, I once again iterated that I came from a place that superseded this plane of existence. Kevin, he believed while Beverly thought I was a loon.
Once the rounds of questions stopped, Kevin was ready to continue, “Eleven continents. All of the trade, all of them have varying degrees of separation. In between these mainland areas are archipelagos. Every single one of the island chains humanity finds are occupied by these fishmen.”
“Do they trade or fight?”
“A bit of both. They’re not known to venture far from their islands. If humans try to settle nearby, they fight. If humans bring spears, they trade fruit or baskets or whatever,” Kevin said.
I let out a long hmm… trying to piece together what Darcy was up to.
“Squena are from Earth. A place called Myanmar designed them. The problem is that they broke all known laws and rules. They used human female eggs, modifying the sacks and altering the embryos. We’re talking hush hush type stuff with restricted science even to me.
“During the time of the squena development. The webo’narocks were the bane that killed humanity. They may be slow to grow, and not hunger for human blood, but they are the worst of the worst. All mariculture, fishing, and aquaculture died. The seas depleted, the beach towns were abandoned, and the first waves of starvation rolled across the planet.
“Humanity ran out of farming land. As a species we swapped to something called the Blue Revolution. Fish, kelp, mollusks, and other aquatic species became a staple in human diets. Red meat and poultry still existed but the backbone of the protein changed.
“Anyway, most of the crazy water themed narocks came about to counter the webo’narocks. One of those was the squena. No great surprise here, once the squena were released, they fled to safety. Survival. It's always the first goal and the squena were bite sized snacks for the tier two alphas webo’narocks.”
“Wait, are you saying even the water one will get bigger?” Fen asked.
“Yup,” I said with a head bob. “They all do. It is one of the universal links that connect the narock. Well, let me correct that. They aren’t meant to die of old age. They are meant to expand and grow, expand and grow. If they cannot expand, they starve and die.
“At some point a new branch evolved to fix this issue. Narocks shrunk to sustain off less food. A natural food chain developed with only a few apex predators at the top. Balance found a way to establish a new order.”
“The squena? What happened to them on Earth?” Kevin asked.
“Well, they survived in small numbers when humanity fell. It is important to note, a few species were completely unable to cope with the changing climate my ancestors fought for. This dry heat and low oxygen atmosphere is far different from Earth. Basically, a lot survived.
“Squena were thought to have persisted, but our scans have sent nothing back officially. If I had to guess here, the fact they have weapons, are stealthy, capable of land or sea, and adaptive, well, I bet they survived. Maybe even formed partnerships with humanity,” I said.
“They’ve been in Snagglewood since humans sailed the seas,” Kevin said. “Though this is the first time I’ve heard of spear guns. The weapon is lethal. You were lucky he only grazed you.”
“I don’t think they’ll be a long-term threat, but if we get raided by them, that is a whole lot different than a narock trying to bust or claw through a door,” I said. “How about we play some cards for a bit.”
Over the next two hours, I lost at poker. We didn’t wager anything besides useless crowns, but we still did toss coins around. They were worth something in Bisben probably, but I just couldn’t help but feel that place was a trap.
A bigger wave of narocks would push inland, seeking food as the young hungered. That would continue and continue and continue. Surviving against the tide was best done underground and I held onto the fact that the Lornsto Mine would be the best bet.
I lost another hand, holding pocket jacks, but two queens and a king were revealed. I folded at the perfect time.
“I got one!” Winston shouted from the back of the boat.
I pulled out a pistol, mainly because they were fishing with pickled fish. I knew a creature that loved pickled fish. The other factor was, we were moving at a trolling speed. Most murky water fish didn’t strike food zooming by. They tended to be ambush predators.
Winston handed off his reel to Nathanael, letting the younger kid fight the fish. I handed the teenager my pistol and he frowned at me.
“You don’t know me, mister,” Winston said.
“Damn straight, I don’t. You want to shoot the narock on the end of the line because my right arm is busted,” I said.
“Look at the shake on the rod, it’s a fish, I’d bet a full crown on it,” Winston said, handing me back the weapon.
He was that certain and I didn’t push the issue. Yilissa came over and put a crown on the ledge of the boat. The coin shone in the sun and when Winston went to snatch it, Yilissa popped the back of his hand.
“Hey,” he complained.
“You may be wrong,” Yilissa said with a grin. “It may -”
“It’s a catfish!” Nathanael said, hefting the fish onto the boat.
Yilissa fake pouted, Winston snatched the coin, and I watched a flop
ping catfish wish it were back in the water. As I stared down at the fish, I felt bad. Of course, my stomach growled shortly thereafter, and I felt hungry.
Fen used a dagger to brain the catch, and the boys returned to fishing. As others returned to cards or the joys of fishing, I sought Henry and a cleaning kit. I tried to clean my weapon every night, but when my fever hit, it hit hard.
On the way up, I heard talk about fishing.
“Hey boss, are there more fishing poles?” one of Lenny’s friends asked.
“Theo works.”
“Right, introductions. I’m Max, this is Nancy, and this lovely lady is Nia,” the young man said, putting his arm around the girl.
“Nice to meet you. There are more fishing poles, they’re communal use though. Don’t be shocked if the lady who almost died getting them is protective over them. Oh, Max, you know how babies are made right?” I asked
He frowned at me, and Nia blushed.
I held up my hands defensively. “You’re what? Fifteen, maybe sixteen. Just let others sleep and the shower is probably the only private space you’ll find.”
I walked into the captain’s quarters before anyone could reply. Trisa groaned in her sleep, her brow awash in sweat. Lenny sat up beside her, reading a book. Instead of heading to Henry, I stole the water cup at the nightstand.
After a quick flick on of the shower I filled the cup and delivered it back to Lenny’s side.
“Thanks,” he whispered. “She’s really out of it.”
“I -” I didn’t add anything else, giving him a thumbs up instead.
I plucked Henry off the captain’s desk and pulled out a cleaning kit from the drawer. I decided to sit on top of this suite to get some sunshine.
When I walked by Matt I asked, “How’s the ankle?”
“Good. Thanks for asking,” Matt said, peering around me to stay focused on the river. “I figured driving this tandem would be tough, but it’s pretty basic.”
“Few more days,” I said in a positive tone.
“You and… Yilissa. Are you close?” he asked
I shook my head, laying out a cloth to sit on. “I trust her implicitly with a gun in her hand. Just not my private gun.”
“Ha! I got that,” Nia said with a snicker, earning a scornful gaze from us both.
“Why not?” Matt replied.
“Uh, I’m a one lady kinda guy. Her name is Roma and let me tell you why I’m so excited to see her,” I said, getting comfortable.
I hesitated, watching the shoreline pass by. I’d be seeing her soon, in a few days, I’d hold her in my arms, and nothing would stand in my way.
39
Snagglewood Day 46
Bewu River
“Called it,” Craig said as we saw the docks on the horizon. “Only a day late. Damn fine sight, damn fine.”
The midday sun blasted down with a fury. The temperature must have been in the hundreds with the simmering heat backing the land to the point it was visible. The riverbanks showed signs of a decreasing water level and narocks occasionally dotted the river.
Most of the basking beasts were younger, but occasionally, an alpha dominated a zone. Seeing as how we passed about a dozen nests on the trip upstream, it wouldn’t surprise me if all of Snagglewood was under siege in some form.
Over the last five days, I stuck to myself mostly. I tried to be useful in a scenario that was useless to a man like me. Besides sorting gear to be ready to offload, and grabbing a replacement bandolier belt, I drove the ship. The goal was to give my stitches time to heal, and I figured it’d be best if I helped the night crew.
This morning, instead of going to sleep, Craig said he knew we were close. Sure enough, I saw the docks in the distance. The old fishing boat was completely gone and only half of the docks jutted over the river.
“What are you thinking?” Craig asked.
“Uh, what are the options?” I asked.
“Hand me Henry,” he said with a smirk. “I see you not wanting to. My rifle is in the bunks.”
“I’m partial to Henry,” I grumbled.
“Men,” Cella said from behind us. “I’ll get it.”
I handed Craig my rifle.
“Alright, this isn’t great, but there’s two real options. We try to stick what remains of the docks between the boat and the barge, or we beach the ship before the docks and build ramps from the shore to the vessels.
“In both cases the ship becomes stuck. I will be completely honest, we always parked Apple in deep water because moving her in when she is stuck is nigh impossible without flooding.
“Also, we run the damage of ruining the wheel. The only other thing I can think of is,” he huffed as he thought, “do you see that pylon?” Craig asked.
“Yeah, the dock is all gone but the end pilings are still standing,” I said.
“We tie up there,” Craig told me as Cella returned with his rifle.
I glanced at the man like he was crazy, for he surely was. We had no dinghy, or way to extend the docks. This wasn’t just a ruined section we could extend. Sure, the boat would be safe, but nothing else would. Not all the supplies would float either, leaving me mystified as to what he was plotting.
Seeing everyone staring at him in shock, he said, “Some fool swims to shore with a rope tied to the barge. We release the pressure on the chains with ropes. The chains disconnect and the barge floats to shore. When it’s time for another run, the crew on the ship pull the barge back.”
“And the fool on the shore?” Yilissa asked.
I sighed and said, “They keep the barge from floating anywhere besides to the shore. The ropes will fray if not snap and I doubt we have the arm strength to pull the barge back.”
“Wind the rope on the wheel. Hook up chains, take the rope off and repeat,” Craig said. He pointed to the docks we neared and a basking webo’narock relaxed on the wooden slats. “Worst case. Absolutely the worst: the swimmer to the shore gets eaten and the -”
“Nope, screw all this stuff. The coal mine may be out of coal. Risking a life isn't worth it either. There’s narocks here, making the risk for a solo person too great. Take us in hot and heavy. If we lose the use of the steamboat, we can head to Laro on foot with oxen,” I said.
He looked around with confliction in his eyes. I could tell he wanted to save Apple. I did too. But not at the cost of a split crew, people jumping into the water, and then stranded parts.
This way, we docked or beached as a team, and we would fight as a unit.
“Kevin, give a rousing speech and make sure everyone is ready to fight. Even Rita,” I said.
“She’s seven,” Cella said with folded arms.
Kevin left, knowing I wouldn’t budge. I checked my new bandolier, finding it sufficient. I checked the replacement .45 on my left holster, and almost had a leak spring from my eye. That glorious eight shooter was replaced by a lighter six shooter, and it was, for sure, my red-headed stepchild.
The murmured speech from Kevin became muffled by the decking and the sloshing sounds. I scurried up to the front perch and Yilissa joined me. We established sniper spots, waiting for the ship to near the shore.
“Hey Craig.”
“Ya boss,” he replied.
“How sudden will we stop?” I asked.
“Uh… pretty damn sudden. The TNT and the whale oil are in the back, though,” he said as if that might make me feel better.
“Alright, a few shots and we brace,” I said.
The Apple slowly but surely pushed up the river. Under a tree’s shade, a baby narock chewed on a boot. Based on the age, the creature was only a day or two old. The little rascal almost had that puppy cuteness.
I sighted, exhaled, and squeezed.
Bang!
Less than a second later, the baby’s head burst like a melon.
I swiftly reloaded.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
Along the shoreline, any basking webo’narock came under blistering fire. One by one the beasts died, and I
let the others shoot to zero in their weapons. This was one of the few times I gave permission for training shots, meaning if the targets died and they wanted to zero in their fire, they could waste the ammo.
“I don’t see the big holes for the lobos,” Yilissa said.
“Clearly they stake out territory too, but ours must have left because there’s too many webos around,” I replied.
A big webo’narock that sunned on the docks perked up with interest.
Not wanting to let it slip away, I tucked in Henry, aimed the scope up just a smidge, and fired for center mass.
Bang!
The kick hurt more this time and I was nearly certain I tore a stitch. The beast must have sensed danger, rising to stand. The round zoomed over the water and plunged into the narock’s shoulder. The creature roared in agony before slipping beneath the surface.
“Dammit,” I grumbled.
“A great shot from this distance, and Theo, your arm,” Yilissa said, touching the spot of blood that pooled on my shirt.
“The bastard is going to be hating life, but now we got a wounded lurker. I doubt he’ll cause trouble,” I said, trying to be positive.
We passed a stretch of the shore where a section of trees obscured our sight, and potentially hid narocks. I feared there might be a nest in the grove, but so far nothing stirred from behind the trunks.
The final stretch revealed just a smidge of the ruins of Lornsto from this angle. The old town had been picked clean, giving me all sorts of hope that the old buildings had been converted into defenses.
The downside was, I didn’t see a tower in the distance and a few narock rested by a cellar opening.
The final stretch had three narocks basking on the inclining beach. I ensured Henry was reloaded and let the others practice fire. Most missed, sending puffs of dry grit into small clouds. A few hit their targets, causing the monsters to rear up with angry shrieks.
In the confusion, two of the closer webo’narocks attacked each other not sure what hurt them and lashing out regardless.
The distance to the docks closed to less than a hundred yards. I left my perch, seeing Craig hesitate. He released the vent, ejecting a trail of steam and the briefest of whistles. His face twisted as his resolve hardened.
