Critical Failures (Caverns and Creatures Book 1)

by Robert Bevan

  “They’re gone,” Tim lied.”

  “Like hell they are,” Captain Righteous said, taking a step forward. Tim and Julian took a step backward in response, holding up their bows, but having little confidence in them being able to penetrate the captain’s impressive suit of armor. “Give me the half-orc, and I’ll let the rest of you live.”

  “Listen,” said Julian, feeling about as menacing with his bow as a baby brandishing a soggy cookie. “You’ve got the wrong idea about Cooper. He’s not a bad guy. And he didn’t kill your man. I mean, not really.”

  The captain regarded him in stern disbelief, and then sheathed his sword. Julian breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his bow.

  “Not a bad guy,” the captain repeated to himself. “Didn’t really kill my man.”

  Julian smiled. Captain Righteous did not.

  “Then how do you come to be in possession of this?” he bellowed, reaching behind his shield with his free hand and producing the head of the slain guard. The head winked each of its eyes alternately and waggled its tongue at Tim and Julian, all out of view of the captain holding it.

  “You need to put that shit away when you’re done using it,” said Tim.

  The captain was dumbfounded for a second, which wasn’t an expression they were used to seeing on his face. “What unspeakable acts of-”

  “I’m sorry,” said Tim. “That came out wrong.”

  The captain dropped the head to the ground, where it lay still. He drew his sword again and took another step forward, moving past a tree that had, up to that point, been obscuring his view of Chaz. He stopped. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded.

  Chaz neither stood up nor answered the captain’s question. He simply started strumming his lute, and began to sing. “Hush, little baby. Don’t say a word. Papa’s gonna buy you a-”

  Tim collapsed to the ground in a heap and began to snore.

  Julian glared at Chaz.

  “Oops,” said Chaz.

  Captain Righteous shook his head. “Last chance,” he said to Julian. “Save yourself. Tell me where the half-orc is.”

  Chapter 19

  One by one, Tim’s senses came back to him. As he lay in darkness, he could feel something prodding into his ribs. He wasn’t exactly being kicked… more like nudged with a foot. A familiar smell invaded his nostrils. Boiled crawfish? No, not exactly. Something not unlike it though.

  “Tim!” someone said from directly above him. “Tim, wake up!”

  Sleep felt too good. He’d just pretend he couldn’t hear… just for a few more minutes.

  “Tim!” came the voice from above, more insistent than last time. Nudges turned into kicks.

  Sleep wasn’t going to be an option. Tim yawned, rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and looked over to his right. Greely and Shorty were cowering behind a rock, gesturing at Tim to be quiet and not give away their presence.

  What’s going on?

  He looked straight up and found Julian staring down back at him. Julian nodded forward. Tim followed Julian’s nod to find a pair of shiny steel boots standing in front of him. Above the boots, Tim slowly raised his head. Shiny steel shield. Shiny steel breastplate. And finally, the shiny steel gaze of Captain Righteous Justificus Blademaster. Shit. The situation came back to him all at once. He pushed himself backward with his feet and elbows.

  “Listen,” Julian pleaded, taking a step back. “I know this looks bad, but we’re really not the guys you want.”

  “That’s right,” said the Captain patiently. “I want the half-orc.”

  “No,” said Julian. “You want our Cavern Master.”

  The captain paused. “Shorty?”

  “What?” said Julian, his eyes flickered toward Shorty’s direction and back again. Shorty grimaced, but remained hidden behind the rock.

  “No!” said Julian.

  Captain Righteous snorted a condescending laugh. “Cavern Master? Did he tell you to call him that? Kind of a lofty title for that little imp. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of him after I take care of your lot.”

  “No,” said Julian. “I wasn’t talking about Shorty, I was-”

  He was interrupted by what sounded like an elephant charging through a bamboo field. Cooper emerged from the trees with half a forest’s worth of dead branches in his arms.

  “Guys,” said Cooper between pants, his face hidden behind the load he carried. “We have a problem.”

  “No shit,” said Julian.

  “Huh?” said Cooper, dropping the branches. “Shit,” he said. “What’s he doing here?”

  “You!” shouted the Captain, turning to face Cooper. “At last, you will pay for your heinous crimes!”

  “Dude,” said Cooper. “Now is really not the-”

  “Braaaauuuuggghhhh!” came the muffled sound from behind the captain. He turned to face the new threat. It appeared to be a short, stout, humanoid figure with the head of a giant ant... and a beard.

  The captain stumbled back. “What the hell is-”

  “Rock-a-bye baby, in the tree top,” Chaz sang as he strummed his lute.

  The captain paused and yawned. “In the tree top? Why would a baby-” His musing was interrupted by another yawn.

  “When the wind blows, the cradle will rock.”

  “Surely it’s a lot more practical-“ yawn “-and a lot less dangerous to just keep the kid on the-”

  “When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall.”

  “That’s exactly the sort of thing-“ yawn “-I’d be worried would happen-” He fell to his knees and dropped his sword on the ground.

  “And down will come baby, cradle and all.”

  “What kind of parents-“ yawn “-What kind of song-” The captain fell forward into the dirt.

  Julian looked at Chaz. Cooper looked at Dave. “Nice work,” they both said.

  Dave took off the ant head. “Just a little something a big asshole taught me.”

  Chaz stopped playing his lute. “You know, he’s right. I never thought about how fucked up that song is.”

  “Guys,” said Cooper. “We’re in some deep shit. Where’s Katherine?”

  Tim looked down at the captain. “If we tie him up, he won’t be any threat. We might even be able to calm him down if we can get him to listen.”

  “It’s not him I’m worried about,” said Cooper. He pointed at Dave. “It’s him.”

  “Me?” Dave asked.

  “No,” said Cooper. “The little guy whose head you’re holding. I think his friends and family are coming to look for him.”

  “Shit,” said Julian. “How many?”

  “I don’t know,” said Cooper. “I saw maybe four or five.”

  “Hey boys!” shouted Katherine, running into the clearing with Butterbean following close behind. “We’ve got a problem.” She stopped to catch her breath, and looked down at the captain. “Who’s that?”

  “Another problem,” said Julian. “What’s wrong?”

  “More ants are coming,” she said.

  “Shit,” said Julian. “How many did you see?”

  “I don’t know. A lot.”

  “That’s too many,” said Dave. “We have to get out of here.”

  “Where?” asked Cooper. “How?”

  Tim spoke up to the crowd circled above him. “What about the cart?”

  “What cart?”

  “The one we were in when we arrived here.”

  “The one that got torn to shreds?” asked Julian impatiently.

  “Sure,” said Tim. “I mean, we ripped the cover off, but it’s still got wheels, right?”

  Julian thought for a moment. “Hell, there was plenty of grass around there. The horses might even still be okay.”

  Tim sat straight up. “Hurry up,” he said. “Grab whatever shit you can carry. We have to get out of here now.”

  Cooper tore down the canvas from the bushes where he had attempted to make a shelter, and spread it out on the ground. “Throw all your shit on here,” he sa
id. While everyone did that, he went over to the ant on the fire, and ripped its legs off one by one. Each leg ended with a chunk of steamy white meat, and it didn’t smell at all unpleasant.

  A din of clicking, chattering, and buzzing penetrated the clearing.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Julian.

  “Ants,” said Cooper and Katherine in unison.

  “Shit, seriously?”

  “What do we do with him?” asked Tim, looking down at the captain. Getting nothing in the way of response outside of uncomfortable silence and averted glances, he explained the options as he saw them. “If we leave him here, it amounts to the same as outright murdering him. We’ll have to bring him with us.”

  “But won’t he just try to kill us all as soon as he wakes up again?” asked Dave. “I mean, we’ve gotten lucky a couple of times. That luck is going to run out sooner or later if we keep this jerk alive.”

  “Are you comfortable leaving him here to be eaten by ants?” asked Tim.

  Dave lowered his head. “No.”

  “He’ll be less of a threat without his sword,” said Julian. He picked it up and swung it around to get a feel for it. From the look on Julian’s face, Tim guessed it felt pretty good. It was truly a beautiful piece of craftsmanship.

  “Okay,” said Dave, shrugging. “Should I wake him up?”

  Tim took a second to think. The ant noises were growing louder. Treetops swayed just beyond the perimeter of the camp. “Cooper, do you think you could carry him?”

  Cooper snorted. “Sure.” He brought the four corners of the canvas together, and held them with one hand. With the other hand, he scooped up the sleeping captain and hefted him over his shoulder. “Wanna take another ride?”

  “Okay,” said Tim. He hopped up on top of the makeshift sack, made himself as comfortable as he could, and readied his bow. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Julian and Dave led the way along the path Cooper had cleared on the way to the camp. Cooper took up the rear with the captain on his shoulder and a huge bag dragging behind him, with Tim riding on top of it.

  The ants’ heads started peeking into view as soon as the party had started moving. Tim fired an arrow at one, but it went wide and hit a tree. The ant he had fired at didn’t even look distracted. Several of the ants gathered near the fire, their antennae moving wildly about in the presence of their fallen, charred, and now legless brother. Chaos turned to order as a different sort of ant came on to the scene. It was bigger than the others, and the carapace was thick and spiked on the front shoulders. It had mandibles like jagged scimitars. A few clicks and a whir from this ant, and the others got into formation and began marching behind heading straight for Tim.

  Cooper ran as fast as he could, but was held back by the weight of the captain and the drag of the sack. The ants were gaining ground, and Tim’s arrows seemed to have little to no effect at slowing their progression. Cooper hadn’t taken more than a few strides when the captain woke up and demanded to know what was going on.

  “Fucking hell!” Cooper shouted. “Take a look behind us!”

  The captain picked his head up. “Oh shit,” he said. “Put me down. We’ll move faster if you aren’t carrying me.”

  “Do you promise to behave yourself?”

  “Yes, by the gods!” he shouted. “They’re gaining on us.”

  “How do we know we can trust you?”

  The captain sighed. “I swear by the sword that was passed down to me by- Hey, where’s my sword?”

  “We’re keeping it safe for you,” said Cooper in as motherly a tone of voice that his half-orc throat could muster. “You can have it back when you promise to stop trying to murder us with it.”

  “Cooper!” Tim shouted. “Put him down, goddammit! They’re right on top of us!” He fired an arrow that finally connected with the soldier ant’s eye. The ant let out a scream that sounded like a lion roaring through an electronic voice synthesizer.

  Cooper set the captain down.

  Captain Righteous stared into Cooper’s eyes. “This isn’t over.”

  “Fuck off,” said Cooper. “Move along before we’re all ant shit.”

  After a few more strides, he heard the captain shout again. “Hey, wizard!”

  “Actually, I’m more of a sorcerer now,” said Julian.

  “Give me back my sword!”

  “No.” said Julian.

  “Shit.”

  “Cooper!” Tim shouted. “Run faster!”

  The soldier ant was nearly right on top of Tim. He scooted backwards on the sack, but there wasn’t much further he could scoot. He fired another arrow, but it missed the eye and bounced off the ant’s shoulder.

  “Aaaauuuuggghhh!” Tim screamed as the ice tong-like mandibles caught hold of his foot. The ant immediately stopped running, trying to pull Tim off the sack. Tim dropped his bow and held on with both hands.

  “Tim!” Cooper shouted.

  “Keep running!” Tim shouted in response.

  The ant not only stopped moving its legs, but also started curling its body around, as if it were trying to sit up.

  The pain in Tim’s foot was excruciating. It felt as though the creature might actually succeed in ripping it right off. All Tim wanted to do was to cry, puke, and pass out, but he forced himself to hang on.

  The ant finished curling its body around, and now Tim could see why. The back of its abdomen ended in a giant stinger. A dark brown liquid oozed out from the end of it. Tim kicked frantically with his good foot, but that only ended up providing the ant with a suitable target. The stinger pierced the bottom of Tim’s foot, and Tim felt the burning heat of the acidic venom flow inside him.

  He was too agonized to scream. His eyes and his jaw clenched shut. With all of his strength, he kicked his legs as hard as he could. It was enough to shake the ant loose. The ant rolled over, briefly halting the progress of the worker ants behind him. This would be the perfect time to finish the fucker off if he still had his bow.

  The soldier ant quickly got to its feet and resumed the chase.

  “You okay back there,” asked Cooper.

  Tim looked down at the bleeding messes that used to be his feet. He choked back a sob. “Just keep running,” he said. “Run like a motherfucker.”

  Adrenaline took charge over fear and pain for the moment, and Tim grabbed the shortsword from the scabbard at his side. He waited for the ant to come to him. Acid burned in his foot, and hatred for insects burned in his brain. He waited.

  “Come on, you big mother fucker!” Tim shouted. “There’s plenty more of me left. Come and get it.” That was a lie. This was the second time he’d had his feet mutilated by an oversized animal. There was not, in fact, much more of him left. He was probably down to a single hit point. He was barely holding on to consciousness.

  The soldier ant moved in for the kill. Tim held onto the sack with one hand, and held his sword in the other. His vision blurred with tears and sweat.

  Tim looked into the one huge remaining functional eye of his attacker. He saw neither pity nor malice. No cunning plan of attack, no sense of self preservation. Just a target, a mission, and a robot-like determination to carry it through. When it was close enough, it opened its mandibles wide. If it closed them again, Tim would be dead.

  Tim also lacked any plan more complicated than ‘kill ant’. His sense of self-preservation was bleeding out of his feet. He brought his shortsword down as hard as he could, and sliced the ant’s face in half. Dark red blood, hot and sticky, spattered all over Tim’s face.

  The soldier ant’s jaws let go of Tim, and it collapsed to the ground. The workers who had been following it huddled around, chittering confusedly for lack of clear orders.

  Tim’s adrenaline rush subsided, and the pain returned. He lost his hold on the sack, slid off onto the ground, and threw up. He tried to push himself up with his arms, but as soon as he put any pressure on his feet, he screamed and collapsed face first into his own puke.

  “Shit!�
� said Cooper as he stopped running.

  The next thing Tim knew, Cooper was kneeling over him. “Looks like you took one of those fuckers down,” he said. “Good job.” He picked up Tim’s shortsword and carefully placed it back in its scabbard as if he were playing with a doll.

  “Cooper,” Tim wheezed. The pain in his right foot was excruciating, but the pain in his left foot, where he’d gotten stung, was worst of all. It had started to make its way up his leg. “You’ve got to get out of here. Take care of Katherine.”

  “Come on, big guy,” said Cooper. “Dave will fix you right up, good as new.” Cooper picked him up and tucked him under his arm like a football. The smell was so atrocious that it temporarily distracted Tim from the pain in his feet. Tim coughed up some more vomit. It ran down Cooper’s arm and dripped off his elbow, but Cooper didn’t even seem to notice.

  The ants quieted down until only one of them could be heard. It might have been just Tim’s imagination, but he had the distinct impression that the clicks and buzzes he as now hearing were new orders.

  Cooper grabbed the corners of his sack and resumed his retreat.

  Just as Tim had feared, the ants seemed to be getting organized again. They parted from the path, and another soldier ant stepped into the commanding position.

  “Fuck,” said Cooper, taking a peek behind as he ran. The trees were thinning out, and the path was getting grassier. They were nearly out of the woods, but only in the literal sense.

  “I see the wagon!” Julian shouted, somewhere ahead of them.

  After another few seconds, Tim could hear other familiar voices.

  “Greely!” shouted Dave. “Go wait in the wagon.”

  Then came the Captain’s voice, nearer than Dave’s had been. “You have your magic,” he said. “Don’t make me go into battle with no weapon.”

  “No way,” said Julian. “You’re just going to have to sit this one out, cap’n. If you want to come with us, you can go wait in the wagon.”

  “But if you’re going to fight all of those ants, you’ll need my help.”

  “Fight them?” said Julian. “If we wanted to fight them, we would have stayed where we were. We’re going to get the hell out of here.”