Everything Is Worth Killing- Isaac's Tale

by Alex Oakchest

  CHAPTER 6 – Almost There

  The next day I stripped everything else I could find from all of the other houses. I scored a bunch of chemicals like household bathroom cleaners, bleach, and turpentine. I didn’t know what I would do with them yet, but it made sense to at least have them. Hey, if you have a magic bag, you might as well fill it.

  My biggest loot was twenty-three cans of various foods that I scavenged from the various kitchens, as well as some apples that had ripened on a tree in one of the gardens. It meant I had a little more breathing space when it came to food. Added to the jars of water I had collected, and I was okay on that side of things.

  I had found some rubbing alcohol in one bathroom, and I used this on my face. I had a wicked scratch on my cheek from the hellcat, and even though the alcohol burned me with the fury of a thousand suns, at least my wound wouldn’t get infected.

  In the same house, I found a roll of steel netting in a shed at the back of the garden. It was the kind you’d put around a chicken coop to try and stop foxes getting in. Although I wasn’t a chicken, I decided that the netting could help me.

  Using a hammer and some nails I had found in the shed, I fixed the steel netting to the top of the fence in my (was I really considering this my house now?) garden. It added an extra three feet of height to the fence. It might not stop any hellcats completely, but at least it’d make it harder for them to attack me.

  Feeling a little safer, it was time to hrr-chare again.

  I flicked back and forth through the guidebook, staring at the stick figure drawings. The different stances were important. They had to be, or why include them?

  I’d tried copying the stances before and saying hrr-chare, but nothing had happened. Maybe I was missing something.

  Or…maybe I had found it.

  I had the hellcat elemental dust now, whatever the hell that was. Maybe if I tried again?

  The same two crows from the day before were sitting in the tree outside the garden perimeter. They were standing beside each other and watching me, and I guessed I must have counted as the local entertainment in a deserted village like this.

  I spent the next few hours copying the different stances. There were six in total, starting with raising my right arm above my head and forming the backward C shape, ending with the one-legged balancing act.

  At least if I never managed to cast a fireball, I’d have a career in the circus with the balancing skills I developed.

  The next few hours went like this. I’d perform a stance, flick a page in the book, and then copy another. I did this again and again, but still nothing happened. My fingertips felt a little hot, I thought, but that could have just been my imagination. Was that a thing? Imaginary hot fingers?

  Soon, I knew the stances so well that I could do them from memory.

  It was on my first time performing each stance, one after another without stopping to check what came next, that something happened.

  I completed a full cycle of all six stances when I felt a glowing sensation in my palms. Not imaginary, not just my brain tricking me to reward my hopeless optimism, but a real warmth on my right palm.

  My pulse began to thud now. I was getting somewhere!

  No sooner had the feeling come to me, then it died. Damn it.

  My energy was renewed now. As the crows watched me, as the daylight faded, I performed the stances again and again. I cycled through them in an endless loop, and with each completed loop my hand grew hotter. Not so that it hurt, but more like a tremble of energy running through me.

  I had just completed the fifth cycle of stances when I heard a voice in my head. Dim, barely even a whisper, and it wasn’t my voice. It was a man’s, a little deeper than mine, and with the same accent as Kaleb and Pendras.

  Hrr-chare, it whispered, ever so faintly.

  Come on, I told myself. I’ve almost done it!

  Another cycle of stances.

  Then another.

  The voice spoke again. Hrr-chare. I felt the energy building up in me.

  Hrr-chare, hrr-chare.

  I so badly wanted to shout the words to cast the spell, but I felt like it wasn’t time yet. I couldn’t say why; it was through instinct. I had to be patient. The voice was getting stronger.

  A few more cycles. Backwards C. Balance my leg…

  Hrr-chare...hrr-chare.

  Just a couple more…

  And then pain flared through my thigh so fast, so powerful, that I fell on my ass.

  My muscles were screaming at me, and the pain was unlike anything I had ever felt.

  But it wasn’t a hellcat or some other strange creature. I hadn’t been attacked. This was just cramp, pure and simple. I’d overworked myself, I hadn’t been eating or sleeping enough, and I was a lot less limber than I’d thought.

  I felt the energy inside me wither away, and my palm grew cold. It had taken almost twenty cycles of the six stances to get to where I was, and I knew my body would go on strike if I tried again tonight.

  I took the book inside, locked the back door, and then I headed to the cottage at the end of the street. This time, the dog was waiting for me.

  Seeing it up close confirmed that I was right; it was a miniature schnauzer breed. It had black eyes and a grey beard, with a stubby tail. It looked young, but maybe it was because it was rake-thin. Poor guy.

  He lifted his tail for a second when he saw me with my bowl.

  “Hey, fella,” I said.

  And then he fled, soon disappearing inside the house.

  “Something I said?”

  I knew it was pointless to chase him. If I wanted to befriend it, then I needed to be patient and non-threatening. I was no dog expert, but I guessed being chased into a house by a strange man would seem kinda threatening to it.

  Not only that, but I’d been in this house during the daytime and ransacked it for supplies, but there had been no sign of the pooch. It must have had its hiding places, and a secret way to get in and out.

  I left a bowl of beans and carrots. “Enjoy, bud,” I said. “Maybe tomorrow, huh?”

  I went back to my cottage, shut and locked the door, and pushed the couch up against it. I performed what had become a ritual of checks, making sure all the windows were closed and locked, and then I went to the bedroom and jammed the doorstopper in place.

  As I lay in bed, wishing I had a lamp and a book that didn’t involve fireballs and was written in English, I was at least thankful for something. I had a roof, food, water, and I wasn’t tied up. Could be worse.

  Tomorrow, I would master the spell. I would befriend the damn dog. And if not tomorrow, then the day after. Or the day after that. I wasn’t leaving this deserted village until I had a friend, and until I could shoot flames from my palms.

  Then, I’d follow the road beyond the village, and just hope it took me to a place where civilization hadn’t completely crumbled.

  For the first time in a while, I was feeling optimistic. Hey, I hadn’t died yet, and I was starting to figure a few things out about this place.

  CHAPTER 7 - Guests

  My thoughts must have carried me into sleep, because it was daylight when I woke again.

  But I hadn’t just woken up naturally.

  I heard sounds coming from outside the cottage. Footsteps, maybe?

  Not just one set, though. I heard a few. Four or five, maybe, and not soft ones, either. They sounded like heavy boots.

  By now, I had spent so long alone in this village that I was both wary of newcomers, and desperate to meet them.

  As much as I wanted to see people again, and especially people who spoke my language, I was worried.

  The way I figured it, something had happened to the world. Something bad, something beyond comprehension. I mean, where was everyone? I’d read the newspapers I had found in the living room from the front-to-back, and there had been no mention of the apocalypse, green-skinned mages, or hellcats. I don’t think I had missed the articles, either. I would have noticed them…
I think.

  So, knowing that things sure as hell weren’t as they should be, I didn’t want to show myself to whoever was strolling through the village.

  I carefully got out of bed. The springs seemed to cry out, but I knew I was just being paranoid. No way would anyone hear them.

  Creeping to the window, I slowly rose until I could see out of it.

  Holy hell!

  Four ogres were walking through the village. Or, I guessed they were ogres. Orcs, maybe? What was the difference between an orc and an ogre?

  That sounded like the set-up to a crummy joke.

  These guys were no joke though. If they were, I was the punchline. They were tall, green, and built like giant rocks. Two of them wore chainmail armor, dented in dozens of places as if someone had whacked them with a hammer over and over.

  The chainmail ogres were armed with swords that looked like oversized machetes, more blunt than sharp. The other two were holding metal chains, but I couldn’t see what was on the end of the chains from my vantage point because the hedges in front of the cottage blocked them from view.

  Probably some kind of hell beast dogs. They were hardly going to be poodles, were they? I couldn’t imagine a gang of ogres taking a bunch of little pooches for a walk.

  Then again, I’d never seen an ogre wearing denim shorts before.

  I opened the window an inch so I could hear what they were saying. My pulse raced as I unhooked the latch and pushed it open.

  “H’geth,” said one ogre. “Natu nati h’geth.”

  “Zar,” answered another, nodding. “Babeth unti ma fizralio.”

  That figured. Another language that I didn’t understand. It sounded different from the Lonehill mages’ language but much rougher on the ears. Not the kind of language to sing a romantic opera in.

  Just keep walking, I said under my breath. There’s nothing for you here. Just a bunch of dilapidated cottages. Just me, a guy who can’t even shoot a spark from his fingers. Oh, and the pooch. Just us, and a whole lotta nothing.

  Shit!

  The dog. If the ogres had dogs, then they’d smell the schnauzer pooch and they’d go crazy. Maybe the ogres would stop and take a look, and that’d lead to them checking the houses. I’d be screwed, and my potential-friend canine would be in worse trouble than me.

  Then again, he had been surviving on his own for a while. He wouldn’t even come near me, and I was feeding him. Suspicion seemed to be his first, middle, and last names. I didn’t need to worry about him.

  I just had to hope the ogres kept walking and didn’t stop. Just keeping going through the village and…

  They stopped.

  They were a few feet ahead of the cottage now, so I couldn’t hear what they were saying and I still couldn’t see their dogs, but they’d stopped walking.

  If they started checking houses, I was done. I couldn’t take them all on, and I couldn’t outrun their hounds. I had secured the front door by pushing the couch against it, but that wouldn’t last long. If a couch against a door was a good form of defense, countries all over the world wouldn’t bother pouring billions into their war budgets.

  I could leave now. Gather a few things then slip out the back. Maybe with a head start, I could be far away before they even got into the house.

  That’d leave the pooch alone though…

  Damn it. What choice did I have? I’d already tried to befriend the dog, and he was too nervous of me. I couldn’t go trying to rescue him. I’d get myself killed.

  The ogres were a reminder of how defenseless I was at the moment, and I needed to fix that. I didn’t know how, but it was vital that I could take care of myself if it came to life and death. But right now, I had to think practically.

  Trying to ignore the feeling that I was a giant jerk, I crept around the house with my bag slung around my shoulder. Luckily, I kept most of the things I’d scavenged in the kitchen, for situations where I needed a quick escape.

  I packed all the food, medicine, firelighters, and various other chemicals I didn’t have a use for yet. The bag still felt incredibly light, so I packed some firewood, knives, and the poker. Finally, there was the hrr-chare book, which I placed at the top. I drew the strings, and then I was ready to go.

  The morning air was cold as I headed into the back garden, crept across it, and then threw my bag over the fence. I had only just climbed over it when I heard a sound.

  Banging and thudding. Again and again.

  They were trying to get into the front door, but the couch was stopping them. It looked like they were going to search the area, after all.

  I guessed it made sense. They were scavengers, combing the land to take whatever they could find. Maybe that was how everybody – human, mage, or ogre – survived in this world.

  What the hell had I woken up into?

  Forget it.

  I took one last look at the cottage and then dropped over the fence. This put me on the far side of the village, at least forty feet from the street. Behind me was the great unknown; the vast plains of nothingness. Of dirt and weeds, of roads covered under the spread of nature.

  I could just take off running. If the ogres were searching the house, I’d be a speck in the distance before they even noticed me. Yeah, that was the best thing to do. I had to think of self-preservation.

  And then I heard the barking.

  Not the ferocious barking of an ogre’s hell beast. A pathetic, yelping bark. One that came from a tiny, scared dog.

  “Damn it.”

  I’d go take a look. Just a quick look. See if my once-potential buddy was in danger.

  Who was I kidding? What if I took a look, and saw the ogres hurting him? Was I just going to walk away, satisfied that I’d at least investigated?

  More barking broke me from my thoughts. I took my poker out of my bag and then I headed north from the house, to a copse of trees. There, I placed my bag at the base of an oak tree.

  I headed back to the village, staying hunched as I got closer. The five cottages were all pretty separate from one another, and each was surrounded by thickets, hedges, and bushes. I guessed the owners had wanted to live in an intimate village while retaining the option of privacy.

  Now, this privacy afforded me some cover as I edged around the village until I was on the far end, away from the ogres. There, I skirted along the wall of the tavern and then peeked out, getting a full view of the street.

  I saw the ogres. Well, one ogre, actually. The other three must have been searching the houses. He was unarmed, but then he was so enormous that I guessed a sword or weapon would actually weaken him. Better to just pound things to a pulp using his fists.

  It wasn’t just the ogre that I saw, though.

  A few days earlier, I would have said that the seven-foot-tall ogre was the most surprising thing I had ever seen.

  Maybe that was still true, but he wasn’t the most frightening.

  There were four lengths of chains on the ground near him. Attached to the chains weren’t the ferocious dogs I have pictured in my head, the kind of hell beasts that an ogre would keep for company.

  There were four people. Two men, two women, all of them naked.

  They were covered in dirt, cuts, and scratches. One of them was sitting on his ass and scratching his thigh, and I could see that his knees were raw to the point of almost showing his kneecaps.

  I saw other things, too, given their lack of clothes, but I tried not to stare.

  I felt sick now. Humans being kept on leads? Naked and forced to crawl on all fours, while under the mastery of a bunch of denim-wearing ogres?

  I was a little perturbed.

  I hated to use such strong language, but that was how I felt.

  But what about the barking? Where was the pup? I couldn’t see him anywhere near the ogre. Did that mean they’d…silenced him?

  Damn this screwed up world.

  I heard a yelping noise then. Quiet, almost a whisper. It came from my right, from the cottage at the end of the st
reet where I used to leave a bowl of food. There, I saw a window set right on ground-level, so that it must have been for a cellar or something. The window was half-shut, and the pooch was trapped beneath it.

  It must have been using the window to get in and out of the house, but I had never seen the home from this angle. It looked like it had been trying to escape the house when the window slammed shut.

  I couldn’t just leave the poor dog there. I needed to free it, and then get the hell out of here. Sorry about the naked guys, and all, but what could I do? Get myself killed taking on a bunch of ogres?

  If I helped the dog and escaped now, then the naked guys’ situation hadn’t changed. It certainly hadn’t worsened. I wasn’t the one who had put them in this situation, so I wouldn’t have it on my conscience if I left them.

  Then again, helping the pooch put me in more danger.

  Did I save a bunch of fellow humans?

  A dog?

  Or just myself?

  Aw, shit. This was a choice I hadn’t wanted to make today.

  I made up my mind. I had to leave the humans and the dog behind, because helping either of them was too much of a risk. I’d like to think I was the kind of person who would help on another day, if the risks were right, but fate had given us all the middle finger today.

  I needed to be gone before the ogres noticed I had ever been there. No stupid risks.

  I took one last look down the street to make sure the ogre wasn’t looking so that I could make a dash out of town.

  That was when I saw two of the naked people staring at me.

  So now the people knew I was there. It kinda took the sting out of the whole, sneak away before they notice approach.

  The naked guy who’d locked eyes with me glanced at his ogre guard, saw he wasn’t looking, and then nudged one of his fellow prisoners.

  I ducked back behind the corner before the rest of them looked at me. My head started to pound, and I couldn’t tell if it was my pulse, or if it was the beginnings of a headache. The ogres couldn’t have waited until I’d had a drink and breakfast before stomping into the village, could they?