Baby Zeke: The Diary of a Chicken Jockey: The Complete Minecraft Series, Books 1-9: An Unofficial Minecraft Book

by Dr. Block

  I could hear voices.

  “Hurrr, what do you think is in the cage?”

  “I don’t know. Hurrr.”

  Villagers. I’d know that annoying “hurrr” anywhere.

  “Some new contestants, maybe?”

  “Hurrr. Could be.”

  Contestants? What were they talking about?

  Then, the cart stopped for a moment. I heard one of the players get out of the cart and unlatch something. Probably a door. Then, I could hear creaking hinges as the door swung open.

  The cart moved forward and slightly down. I could feel the air get instantly warmer and I could smell something unpleasant. It was like a combination of sweat, old food and … fear.

  The cart stopped again and I heard the door swing shut. Then, the player walked back to the front of the cart and climbed in.

  The cart continued forward for another minute or two and then stopped.

  The players got down from the cart and came around to the back. I heard them unlock and open the door to the cage.

  One of the players climbed into the cage and removed our hoods.

  Even though the room we were in was only lit by a few torches, the light seemed blinding at first. As my eyes adjusted to the room, I could see that it was some sort of prison. There were several cells on each side.

  “Out,” said one of the players.

  Harold and I slowly stepped out of the cart. We stood next to each other.

  Was this the end? Was Herobrine’s minion waiting for us already?

  A villager wearing a white robe emerged, seemingly from nowhere. His red eyes gleamed under the torch light.

  “Hurrr. Is this the cargo?” he asked.

  “Yes,” said one of the players.

  “Excellent. Put them in those cells over there. Hurrr,” said the evil librarian villager, pointing.

  “How about our bounty?” asked one of the players.

  “Hurrr. You should have been a villager. I admire your greed,” said the librarian. “Here.”

  The librarian tossed a large sack to the players. They hastily opened the sack and counted the diamonds.

  “Hey, there are only 500 here,” said one. “The bounty is 1,000.”

  “Herobrine’s minion will bring the remainder. Hurrr. I have no say in the matter,” said the librarian.

  The players were not happy. “You mean, we have to stick around in this dump until the minion arrives?”

  “Hurrr. I am sure you can find desirable lodgings, especially with all those diamonds to pay for them,” said the librarian with an evil grin.

  The players shoved Harold and me unceremoniously into adjacent cells.

  “Come on,” said one player to the other. “Let’s find a place to sleep.”

  The other player nodded and then turned to the villager and said, “Be sure to alert us when the minion arrives. We want the rest of our money ASAP.”

  The librarian simply smiled and bowed.

  I watched the players get back into their cart and leave.

  “Can we have some food?” I asked the librarian.

  The librarian laughed. “Here,” he said as he reached into a pocket in his robe. He pulled out a rotten potato and a small piece of bread. He tossed the potato to me and the bread to Harold.

  Worst. Meal. Ever.

  “Great. Thanks,” I said sarcastically.

  The librarian said nothing in reply and started to walk out of the room.

  “What now?” I asked him, hoping for some information. Something I might be able to use to escape or make a deal or something.

  The librarian turned. “You wait. But, hurrr, you can enjoy the games.”

  “Games? What do you mean?” I asked, but he did not reply and left the room.

  Chapter 9

  As I nibbled on my potato, trying to avoid the rotten bits, I started to hear something. Voices.

  “Do you hear that?” I asked Harold.

  “Yes,” he said from the adjoining cell.

  I looked around and saw there was a high window in my cell. The voices seemed to be coming from outside the window. There was a chair in my cell, so I pushed it directly underneath the window. I stood on the chair and the voices were louder.

  “It’s coming from behind us,” I said.

  I tried to reach the window ledge, to pull myself up and look, but I was too short. I jumped a couple of times and was finally able to grab the ledge with the tips of my stubby fingers and managed to pull myself up. Fortunately, the ledge was rather wide, so I was able to put my feet on it and crouch in the window opening.

  “Harold, are you on the ledge?”

  “Yes,” he clucked.

  I looked out the window and saw a small arena!

  Standing around the area were fifteen or twenty mobs: zombies, slimes, zombie pigmen, spiders, skeletons, and even a magma cube.

  “Are you seeing this?” I asked Harold.

  “I am seeing it, but I am not believing it,” he replied.

  The mobs were milling around, obviously waiting for something to happen. And then, it did.

  The same evil librarian who provided us with our delightful dinner walked onto a small stage at the far end of the arena. He raised his hands, a signal for the mobs to come to order.

  Once everyone was silent, he said in a booming voice, “Welcome to Battle Club!”

  A roar rose from the assembled mobs.

  The librarian continued. “Hurrr. Battle Club is a place where mobs can test their skills against other mobs and where we villagers can bet on the winners.”

  For the first time, I noticed a group of sinister villagers standing near the librarian. They were whispering to each other and exchanging diamonds and emeralds, apparently placing bets on the mob battles to come.

  “But first, hurrr,” continued the librarian, “I need to go over the rules of Battle Club.

  Rule number 1: You do not talk about Battle Club.

  Rule number 2: You DO NOT TALK about Battle Club.

  Rule number 3: Battles end when I say they end.

  Rule number 4: If this is your first time at Battle Club, you have to battle.”

  And then a deafening roar came from the mobs. They want to be here?

  “Harold, this is insane. I’ve never heard of Battle Club.”

  “Well, duh, the first two rules are you do not talk about Battle Club,” said Harold. “I guess these guys can keep a secret.”

  Over the next hour, I watched with equal parts revulsion and admiration as different mobs tested their fighting skills against other mobs. I watched as a zombie defeated a spider, a skeleton defeated a slime, and – to my great surprise – a magma cube defeated a zombie pigman.

  It seemed like the fighting was going to continue for some time longer, but I was growing tired of the morbid spectacle. I jumped down to the floor of my cell.

  “Did you eat your bread?” I asked Harold.

  “Yes, but I feel sick.”

  “Me too. That potato was totally foul.”

  We sat in silence for a time, listening to the sounds of the Battle Club filtering in through our windows.

  Finally, I said, “I’m sorry I got you into this. I let the intoxicating warmth of fame get to me. If I hadn’t been so eager to sign autographs, none of this would have happened.”

  “I doubt it,” said Harold. “If Herobrine wanted to capture us, he would have done it sooner or later.”

  I sighed. “Maybe you are right. Good night, Harold.”

  “Good night, Zeke.”

  I lay down on the cold ground. I tossed and turned for several minutes until I got into a position that I thought might allow me to get some sleep before Herobrine’s minion arrived.

  I was just drifting off to sleep when I heard a youthful voice say, “Zeke? Hurrr. Baby Zeke?”

  Chapter 10

  I sat bolt upright and looked in the direction of the voice.

  There, in the shadows on the other side of the room, stood two young villagers,
probably about twelve years old.

  “Uh, yes?” I said, unsure of what was about to happen.

  “We heard a rumor you were here,” said one of them.

  “Yeah, hurrr, we wanted to check it out,” said the other.

  I shook my head. “So even you villager kids want to turn me over to Herobrine,” I said sadly, disgusted at the state of the world when even children are in league with the most evil creature who has ever existed.

  “No,” said one of them. “We want to help you escape.”

  “Me too?” clucked Harold.

  “Hurrr, of course. Baby Zeke the Chicken Jockey wouldn’t be anything without his trusty steed, Harold,” said one of the young villagers.

  The two cautiously approached, emerging from the shadows. One was wearing a brown robe while the other was wearing a white robe.

  “My name is Oscar,” said the one in the brown robe.

  “Hurrr, and my name is Jack,” said the one in the white robe.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. “So … what’s the plan?”

  Oscar shrugged. “Hurrr. No plan, really. We were just going to unlock your cells and show you how to get out of the village.”

  “Yeah, after that, you are on your own,” said Jack. “It’s already way past our bedtime, so we need to be getting home soon.”

  Oscar walked over and pulled a key from one of his pockets. He quickly opened both cells. Harold and I hugged each other, thankful to be free.

  I looked at the two young villagers. “So, do you want my autograph?” I asked.

  “Hurrr, uh, not really,” said Jack. Oscar shook his head.

  Frankly, I felt a little sad. I kind of liked being a celebrity, though, of course, my fame had led me to my current predicament, so maybe fame is not as great as I thought it was.

  “Uh … okay … uh … that’s cool,” I stammered. Change the subject, Zeke. “Uh, so, what’s with that librarian guy running the Battle Club? He seems crazy.”

  Jack sighed. “That’s my dad,” he admitted. Oscar put an arm on his shoulder to comfort him.

  “Really?” said Harold. Jack nodded. “So,” continued Harold, “why is he so … well … evil?”

  Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. Hurrr. He is nice to me, but something happens to him when he sees a profit to be made. My mom says it is a kind of money madness.”

  “My parents say he was dropped on his head as a baby,” said Oscar.

  “Anyway, hurrr, he pretty much runs this village,” said Jack. “I heard him talking about capturing you tonight. I didn’t think it was right for someone who saved the world from Herobrine to be sold back to him. Hurrr. It is just wrong.” Jack slammed a clenched fist into his open palm for emphasis.

  I looked Jack in the eyes. “That was a very brave thing you did, Jack. Thank you,” I said.

  Jack nodded.

  “Don’t forget, hurrr, I have the keys,” said Oscar, slightly jealous of the attention Jack was getting.

  “And thank you, too,” I said.

  “Yeah, you guys are awesome, but how do we get out of here?” asked Harold.

  “Follow us,” said Oscar.

  Oscar walked across the room to a small door. It blended into the wall so well, I am not sure I would have noticed it on my own. Oscar pulled out another key, unlocked the small door, and pushed it open.

  Jack ducked through the door and looked around. “Hurrr. All clear,” he said.

  Then Harold and I went through the door, followed by Oscar.

  Jack moved swiftly through the streets of the village, staying in the shadows of the less-traveled back streets so that we would not be seen. We had to avoid a couple of zombies wandering around, but other than that, it was pretty easy to get to the edge of the village.

  “Okay. We made it,” said Oscar, pointing to the black night beyond the border of the village.

  I hopped on to Harold and said, “Thanks again, guys. You two are the coolest villagers I know.”

  “Thanks,” they said together.

  “I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” I said.

  “Just don’t let Herobrine take over the world,” said Oscar.

  “Got it,” I said.

  “And, don’t get caught again,” said Jack.

  “Got it two times,” I said. “I hope your father doesn’t figure out you helped us escape.”

  Jack shrugged. “I doubt it. He’s too focused on his stupid Battle Club right now. He won’t even notice you are gone until the morning.”

  “By the way,” asked Harold. “Your father said one of Herobrine’s minions was coming to collect us. Any idea who or what that might be?”

  I look of terror spread across the faces of the young villagers. “Hurrr, no.”

  “Too bad,” said Harold. “It would be nice to know who to avoid.”

  “Well, Harold, I guess we should head out,” I said.

  “Yes, but which direction? I have no idea where we came from.”

  Harold was right. We had bags over our heads for half of the journey. Our friends could be anywhere. And, even if we knew the general direction, there was no guarantee they would still be at the temporary cave Harold and I had left early this morning when we went scouting.

  I sighed and looked at Jack and Oscar. “Any ideas?”

  The both shook their heads.

  “I guess anywhere is better than here. Let’s go that way,” I said to Harold, pointing to the east.

  Chapter 11

  We moved through the night, hoping to find a shelter by dawn so that we could rest out of sight of prying eyes. I was worried that Herobrine’s minion or players in search of the 1,000 diamond bounty might recognize us if we traveled during the day.

  We came upon a small cave, just a few minutes after sunrise. Once we were inside, I jumped off of Harold.

  “I’m so hungry,” said Harold.

  “Me too, buddy,” I said.

  I peeked outside the mouth of the cave. I noticed some grass growing nearby. “Harold, there may be some seeds on the ground just outside the cave.”

  Harold nodded. “I’ll rest a few minutes and then check it out,” he said.

  “When you go out there, see if there is anything I can eat. Maybe a pig or a cow or something,” I said, as my undead stomach growled. “Except for that nasty potato, I haven’t eaten anything in nearly two days.”

  “I know,” said Harold. “I am sure I can find you something.”

  We sat in the cave for a few minutes, not speaking, just resting. It felt good to rest. It felt even better to be free. I vowed then and there I could not ever let anyone capture me ever again. Even if it meant my life.

  In spite of my fatigue, I was moved by the power of this resolution. I stood up and yelled:

  I expected Harold to yell and hoot his support. But, chickens are peculiar birds. In response to my proclamation, Harold simply stood up and said, “I’m going to eat some of those seeds and look for some food for you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Uh … cool,” I said, nestling into a fetal position on the ground, hoping to sleep.

  And, sleep I did. I must have fallen asleep instantly. It was a dreamless sleep of oblivion, the events of the past two days caught up with me all at once and knocked me out cold.

  I don’t know how long I had been asleep when I noticed a strange squishing sound. I heard a squish and then silence, then another squish and then silence.

  What is going on? I want to sleep. That squishing is bothering me.

  I turned over, covering my ears to try and drown out the squishing noise. But, it did not go away. In fact, it grew louder and the interval between the squishing and the silence shortened.

  Argh! What is it? Is it Harold playing a prank on me?

  Finally, I opened my eyes and yelled angrily, “What is it!?!”

  And there, in front of me was a slime. Not a big slime, but not a small slime either. It was a medium-sized slime. It was bouncing up and down and looking at me.


  “Yay,” it said. “You are awake!”

  What the Notch?

  “Whoa!” I said, sitting up. “Where did you come from?”

  “Everywhere and nowhere,” said the slime in a sing-song voice.

  “Are you always so happy and … unclear?” I asked.

  The slime stopped bouncing for a moment. I guess it was thinking about my question. Finally, it started bouncing again and answered, “Yes, I am.”

  And then, I had a horrible thought. What if the slime was Herobrine’s minion? No one would expect a slime to be a servant of evil. Would they?

  I slowly gripped the handle of my diamond sword. “You aren’t working for Herobrine, are you?”

  The slime suddenly had a look of terror and horror and sadness all rolled into one. “I … no … why … how could … of course not!” it sputtered.

  It was either the greatest actor in the history of the Overworld, or it was not Herobrine’s minion.

  “No offense, but I had to ask,” I said.

  “Oh,” it said and resumed its bouncing.

  I watched it bounce a few times before I started to get dizzy. “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Jacob. What’s yours?”

  “Zeke.”

  The slime stopped bouncing again. “Zeke? Oh. I’ve heard of you,” said Jacob.

  “I know, I know, the 1,000-diamond bounty, right?”

  The slime shook like a bowl of name-brand gelatin dessert. I guessed this was his way of shaking his head “no.”

  This freaked me out a bit. So, if he hadn’t heard of the bounty, how had he heard about me? I did not have to ask.

  “I heard about you from a rude little baby pigman jockey,” said Jacob.

  Rude little baby pigman jockey? It could only be Otis and Bob.

  I stood up, excited, my hunger momentarily forgotten. “Was the baby pigman’s name Otis?”

  “I think so,” said the slime. “He told me he was looking for a baby zombie named Zeke. But, he also said there would be a chicken with you.”