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

by Dr. Block

  “Okay. Thanks, Zeb,” I said.

  Chapter 3

  After my conversation with Zeb, I decided to leave the house and go for a walk around the village. It was early evening, dark enough for normal zombies to walk outside without bursting into flame, but still light enough that not all the torches had been lit in the village streets.

  Speaking of spontaneous zombie combustion, Zeb had recently learned that he could wear a helmet and survive in the sunlight! A kind villager informed him of this fact. So, Zeb had been enjoying the daylight recently, and had a sunburn to show for it. His undead flesh now had a decidedly pink hue.

  I watched as Zeb departed, heading in the direction of the village librarian’s house. Good old Zeb, I thought. As wise a zombie as I have ever met.

  I wandered aimlessly through the village admiring the stout construction and angular architecture of its numerous buildings.

  It sure would be nice to be a humble villager and not have to worry about a quest to defeat Herobrine, I thought. Who would’ve believed that a baby zombie like me would be at the heart of such a momentous chain of historical events.

  I walked along feeling sorry for myself. I kicked at the pebbles on the ground and shook my head sadly. I put my hands in my pockets and continued my purposeless plodding through the cobblestone streets.

  When I turned a corner, I met a wandering zombie who had apparently come into the village to attack the villagers.

  “Have you tasted any villager flesh, young one?” asked the zombie, an icicle of drool hanging from his lower lip.

  I was upset and disgusted, both at this thoughtless, disgusting and carnivorous zombie and at myself for being a member of the zombie race.

  Why did there have to be such hatred between the villagers and the zombies? Why was the world like this? Why couldn’t we all just get along?

  “Get out of here you savage!” I yelled at the zombie. “These villagers are kind and helpful. They are my friends and allies. I am not going to let you eat them,” I said drawing my diamond sword and pointing its tip at the zombie’s face. “You shall not pass!”

  “I’ve never met a zombie like you,” said the zombie, staring at me with a mix of contempt and fear. “You’re not right in the head, are you?”

  “You aren’t going to be right in the head when it has a diamond sword sticking through it.” I lunged menacingly at the zombie.

  The zombie, apparently deciding he would rather eat villager flesh another day, turned and shambled away. I angrily shoved my diamond sword back in my inventory.

  I had taken only a few more steps when I heard what sounded like a hissing noise. I looked over in the direction of the noise but didn’t see anything. I leaned my head in closer and squinted my eyes, hoping I would somehow be able to see the source of the sound in the darkness, but it did not help. Seeing nothing, I shrugged my shoulders and return to my walk.

  But then I heard the hissing noise again.

  I looked over in the direction of the sound and this time I saw a short little old villager man beckoning to me. He was standing in the doorway of his house.

  I approached him and asked, “What do you want?”

  “Zeke. Please come into my home. I wish to discuss something extremely important with you.”

  I didn’t have anything better to do, so I said, “Okay. Whatever.”

  Chapter 4

  Upon entering the old man’s home, I saw that it was neatly kempt and he had few furnishings. Judging by the limited number of knickknacks and doodads and tchotchkes in his house, I concluded that he likely lived alone.

  “Sit down, if you please,” said the old man.

  I sat down on one of the two chairs at his oaken table. “What can I do for you?” I asked the man.

  The old man sat down at the table as well and rubbed his hands together conspiratorially. “Oh, it is not what you can do for me, is what I can do for you.”

  “And what might that be?” I hoped this verbal kung fu session wouldn’t go on too much longer. I really didn’t have the patience for it.

  “You intend to confront Herobrine, do you not?”

  I nodded. “I thought everybody knew that.”

  “Oh, I knew it, I just wanted to start our conversation by confirming that fact.”

  I shook my head. What?

  Maybe this old man was crazy from being alone all the time and wanted someone to talk to. Probably all the other villagers avoided him like the plague because he was some sort of maniac.

  Just my luck I was passing his house when he was trolling for a conversational victim.

  “Okay, so our conversation has begun. Where is it going to lead?” I asked, drumming my stubby undead fingers impatiently on the surface of the table.

  “It will lead to my revealing very important information which will help you on your quest.” The old man spoke with a high singsong voice and his eyes were open wide like those of a newborn baby or someone whose blink reflex had been short circuited or an extraterrestrial.

  “O … kaaaay ... maybe we should start working toward that destination,” I encouraged him.

  In response, the old man got up from the table and went to a chest. He opened the chest and pulled out a smaller chest. He then opened the smaller chest and pulled out a still smaller chest.

  Oh, brother, I thought.

  He took the smallest chest, brought it back to the table and set it down between us. Then he sat on his chair smiling and glancing down at the chest and up at my face and at the chest and then my face, then the chest, then my face….

  I got the hint. “Is that for me?” I asked.

  The old man shook his head. “No, that’s my chest.”

  “So why did you get it out?!?”

  “Oh, because the thing that is inside the chest is for you.”

  I slapped my forehead with my left hand. This was ridiculous. I didn’t have the patience for this sort of mystical teacher mumbo-jumbo. I just wanted to cut to the chase and have this old guy tell me what I needed to know so I could go back to my house and sleep some more.

  “So, will you open it and give it to me?”

  The old man shook his head violently. “That cannot be done! Not until I tell you ... the poem.”

  My jaw hung slack. Now this guy was going to tell me a poem?!?

  I really was a victim, a patsy. How did he pick me out of the crowd? Why couldn’t he try out his crazy stories on his fellow villagers instead of me? Maybe I should just eat him? I bet he would not be missed. I could feel drool forming in my mouth, but I resisted my savage instinct.

  I sighed. “Okay then, what is the poem. It’s getting late.”

  The old man smiled broadly and stood on top of his chair. He bounced on his tip toes like an excited toddler villager watching his first trade.

  “Okay, are you ready? This poem is a really good, so pay attention.”

  I nodded. I wasn’t really going to pay attention, just polite and pretend to pay attention. But, when he started reciting the poem, I did pay attention.

  Herobrine says he can control your fate,

  but there is a story I must relate,

  to defeat the one with glowing eyes,

  requires one to look to the skies.

  One must think outside the box,

  in a world that is filled with them,

  so when your life is upside-down,

  find a way to go over the ground.

  And then he jumped to the floor, spread his hands and dropped to one knee with a flourish and said, “Ta da!”

  I didn’t think there was anything “ta da”-worthy about the poem, but it was certainly curious. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  “I can’t tell you what it means. I just know it’s very important for your success,” said the old man mysteriously.

  “Well, if you can’t tell me what it means. Do you know what it means?”

  “Of course I know what it means,” said the old man to me as if I were an ign
orant baby. “If I didn’t know what it meant, I wouldn’t know who to tell it to.”

  Now I was getting mad. This crazy old guy invites me into his house, tells me a ridiculous poem, knows what it means, but won’t help me out. I could taste the drool in my mouth again.

  Then, I had a terrible thought. My undead blood turned to ice. I said, “Just a second, old man. Are you one of Herobrine’s minions?”

  The old man clutched his hand to his chest and started to breathe hard. Sweat began to form on his forehead.

  Oh my Notch! Was he actually one of Herobrine’s minions?

  He started to shake as if he was having some sort of seizure. And then he steadied himself and said, “Of course not. How could you think such a thing?”

  “Well, you tell me this ridiculous poem and it’s all about Herobrine. You claim it is helpful, but it seems insane. I’ve had people help me out before who turned out to be evil. I just don’t know who to trust.”

  The old man shook his head. He reached over and put a hand on my shoulder. “I feel sorry for you. It must be hard going through life and not be able to trust.”

  I didn’t say anything, just nodded my agreement. I was holding back a tear.

  “Well then, won’t you open your present?” He pushed the chest over to me.

  I was a little concerned. I still didn’t entirely trust the old man.

  When I opened the chest was a piece of TNT was going to explode in my face and kill me? Could there be some sort of poison in there disguised as delicious drink?

  In the end, I decided I might as well go for it.

  I opened the chest and inside there was a piece of cloth. I pulled the cloth out and unrolled it and realized it was a T-shirt. I looked at the old man quizzically.

  “Turn it around and read what’s written on it.” said the old man with excitement.

  I turned the shirt around and there, written on the front was the word “NOOB” But, the B was backwards like some three-year-old villager had written it.

  “Noob? You give me a T-shirt with the word Noob written on it?”

  I took a T-shirt and threw it at the old man’s face. He got the T-shirt and held it in front of him. His expression was sad and troubled.

  “You must take the T-shirt. You will need it.”

  “I don’t need anyone insulting me. I am not going to wear that shirt around.” I stood up and started to march out of the house.

  Forget this guy, I thought. I don’t care about his stupid T-shirt or his stupid mystical bizarre poem or any of that stuff.

  “Wait Zeke. You must keep this T-shirt with you. I cannot tell you anymore, only that without this T-shirt you will surely be defeated.”

  I stopped and turned around. “Well, then, tell me how I should use it. I’m not wearing that thing to have everybody make fun of me.”

  “You don’t have to wear it. Just keep in your inventory. You’ll know when you need to use it.”

  I was completely perplexed by this old guy. I didn’t understand his motivations or why he would give me this ridiculous T-shirt. Yet, there was something about him that was sincere. He really believed I needed to keep this T-shirt with me to survive. That kind of conviction wasn’t very common in the world these days. I knew that I had to believe him.

  I walked over the old man snatched the shirt out of his hands and stuffed it in my inventory. “There. Are you happy now?”

  The old man smiled and rapidly clapped his hands together. “Oh, yes, I am. Just remember, you will need it at some point. So don’t forget you have it in your inventory.”

  “Oh, I won’t forget. It’s the most … um … interesting gift I’ve ever received.”

  Chapter 5

  After my insane, confusing and perplexing encounter with that weird old man and the receipt of my peculiar gift, I wasn’t in the mood to continue my village walking tour. I went back to my house and went into my room to sleep.

  I fell asleep quickly and soon began to have strange dreams about dancing T-shirts and backwards letters. They weren’t exactly nightmares, but they weren’t what I would call pleasant dreams either. They were more confusing than anything.

  About halfway through a part of my dream where a backwards letter C started dancing with a letter I to create the letter D, I felt shaking.

  At first I thought I was dreaming about an earthquake or something. Then through the haze of my dream, I realized that it was I who was shaking. Or more correctly, something was shaking me.

  I cautiously opened my eyes and found myself staring into the square penetrating purple pupils of an enderman!

  I screamed and pushed my body away from the enderman and brought the covers up to my chin in an attempt to protect myself. “What do you want?”

  “Calm down,” said Zeb. I hadn’t noticed Zeb until he spoke. I looked over at him with a questioning expression on my face.

  Then, I looked back at the enderman and asked, “King?”

  The enderman leaned away from me and stood there in silence for a moment and then shook his head. “Unfortunately, I am not the Ender King.”

  “Well, you must know where he is. Is he coming?” I asked.

  Again the enderman shook his head. “I do not know. The Ender King disappeared two days ago.”

  “But, how could he disappear? He’s the most powerful enderman I’ve ever heard of. And, why would he leave me to fight Herobrine by myself? He said he would come back to help.”

  The enderman shrugged his shoulders. “Our people are just as worried as you, if not more so. No ender king has disappeared in over 1,000 years. The last time an ender king disappeared, there was civil war in the End for a generation until a new king could be selected.”

  I wasn’t fond of the ominous turn that this conversation was taking. The Ender King had disappeared. Herobrine was lurking and waiting for us to attack. And the End could soon be on the brink of years of civil war.

  Has my life really come to this? I thought. Has Minecraft come to this?

  “So, what should we do?” I asked.

  Zeb jumped in this time. “I was speaking with the village librarian when this enderman showed up to tell us the bad news. The librarian and I have analyzed the situation. We think that we should confront Herobrine now. Who knows when or if the Ender King will ever return.”

  I was afraid he might say something like that. “But, how can we confront Herobrine? The last time we faced him head-on we would have surely been destroyed if it weren’t for the Ender King and his ender army. We won’t stand a chance without them,” I whined.

  “Exactly,” said the enderman. “That is why I am bringing an army of 200 endermen to help you with your battle against Herobrine.”

  “That’s great and all,” I said. “But do you really think 200 endermen stand a chance against Herobrine?”

  The enderman crossed his arms in front of his square black chest. Even though his face was virtually expressionless, I detected a strong hint of disgust at my words.

  “Actually, yes, they stand a very strong chance,” he said. “These are 200 of the most elite troops in the Ender army. One of these endermen is worth 20 normal ender soldiers. And an ender soldier is worth 100 civilian enders. It’s as if you have an army of 400,000 endermen fighting alongside you.”

  In my mind, I rolled my eyes. Outwardly, I maintained a blank expression so as not to upset the enderman. “400,000? Well, I hope Herobrine does math like you do.”

  I detected a slight lunge towards me from the enderman but he said nothing.

  Zeb walked over and put his arm on my shoulder. “Zeke, I know this is not how you were hoping this would work out. But, this is where life has brought us and we can’t just run away from it. If run away, we know the world will die because Herobrine will destroy it. At least we have to fight.”

  I knew Zeb was right, but I was scared. Anyone would be. Well, maybe not Otis, but he was crazy.

  Zeb continued. “This enderman is named General Matias. He is the comma
nder of the ender army’s special forces and will be in command of the 200 troops who will be arriving shortly. Only the Ender King had a more senior position in the ender army. The general knows what he is talking about when he says we have a chance.”

  “Okay,” I said, looking at the general. “But couldn’t you bring more than 200 soldiers?”

  General Matias shook his head. “With the Ender King gone, we need troops in the End to maintain order in case the situation gets out of control.”

  “Even if Herobrine is planning on destroying the world?” I asked.

  The general nodded, but said nothing.

  I sighed. “Okay, I guess. Give me a minute to get dressed, and I’ll meet you down in the kitchen so we can inform the others and get ready for what has to be done.”

  Chapter 6

  Zeb had gathered everyone in the kitchen. Once they had assembled, Zeb introduced General Matias, explained that the Ender King had disappeared, and that it was time to prepare for war with Herobrine.

  “It’s about time!” said Otis, who had pulled his diamond sword out of his inventory was in the process of stabbing it into the table. “I was getting sick of sitting around here painting my toenails.”

  By reflex, I checked Otis’s toes to see if they were painted. They weren’t.

  “It’s just an expression, you derp,” said Otis.

  The general looked at Otis and tilted his head to the side as if he were trying to solve a difficult puzzle. Then he said, “The Ender King was right about you, Otis. You are a firebrand.”

  “Yeah, well, the Ender King was right about a lot of things. Herobrine needs to die. The universe will be better off without him. And, if I’m the one who needs to kill him, then I say Bring. It. On.”