“Yeah…” I breathed out, listening to the last of the crew’s screams die out as a few tried to scramble off the ship and fell to their deaths on the rocky shore, “no arguments here…”
I felt like a bit of a dick for saying that, but at the same time it felt kind of good to not blame myself.
“I’m thinkin’ it might be a good idea to go check that out,” Jesse suggested, the initial shock having waned somewhat, “might be able to find somethin’ good amidst the… mess.”
“I was thinking that too,” I replied with a sigh, slightly hating the fact that I was still at a point where I didn’t see the people who’d just died as real, “maybe some cannons.”
“That’d be cool,” Jesse said with a nod, reflecting my unease at how quickly we’d switched from being horrified to wanting to gut the beached beastie, “might even get lucky enough to find you some new clothes.”
“Heh, yeah,” I weakly chuckled, “it’ll be good to get into something less Robinson Crusoe.”
Jesse let out a little huff of amusement at that, but it quickly became clear that neither of us were in a hurry to start moving.
Thinking back on it, that was probably a good sign that I had at least some empathy for the dozens if not hundreds of freshly killed crew members.
“Guess we better get moving,” Jesse finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the island, “want to swim or go around?”
“Let’s…” I trailed off as I noticed a few bodies bobbing around in the water, “I think we should go around.”
“Seconded,” Jesse replied after spotting what I was staring at, “definitely seconded.”
CHAPTER 2
Jesse and I decided to give the shelter and the girls a wide berth as we trekked through the jungle thinking that the last thing I needed was to be pulled into an emotional minefield.
“So…” I said once we were far enough away from the shelter that we wouldn’t be heard, “I know we’ve talked about timed events and that before, but shouldn’t there be some kind of quest log or something?”
“Why should there be?” Jesse replied dismissively.
“I don’t know, so I can keep track of everything?”
Jesse chuckled a little at that, “Isn’t that what your brain’s for?”
“Ha-ha,” I muttered somewhat embarrassedly, “seriously though, there’s a bunch of stuff to keep track of. Crashed ship, taking care of the shelter, Seastrider and her crew coming back, and the dark wood elves? I’d almost completely forgotten about them.”
“Then write a note,” Jesse said matter-of-factly, “if you can’t count on your memory, just write a note.”
“With what?” I scoffed, “It’s not like that survival thing at the beginning came with a notepad.”
“True,” Jesse replied with a nod as we started to go downhill slightly, indicating we were getting close to the crash site, “but you’ve got one of the most powerful devices in this universe literally in the palm of your hand, you have to imagine there’s at least some kind of variation of Notepad on there.”
I hadn’t really thought about the OS of the Toolbox up until that point, which undoubtedly was at least in part due to the fact that my brain wasn’t really looking at it as any sort of computer.
The best way to explain it would be giving someone from 2002 my phone before I dove into Re.Gen. It was familiar enough, but the idea that it was as good as a mid-range laptop would’ve floored them.
Anyway, I decided not to fixate on that for too long and instead opened up the screen in my palm and started scrolling in search of something that at least looked a little bit like a word processor, something that proved to be exceedingly difficult while walking downhill in a jungle.
I managed to find something though, and was even able to fill out a few notes and make links to the little notification the elves had given me, but then, right as the ground levelled out and Jesse started guiding me towards the sound of creaking wood and lapping water, I fell flat on my face, my foot having hooked on a root.
“Ow…” I let out with no small amount of embarrassment as I tasted blood from where I’d bitten my cheek when I’d hit the rocky ground.
“You alright there?” Jesse asked, stifling what I could only assume was raucous laughter.
“I’ll be fine,” I lied as I got to my feet, my pride having been slapped with a big rubber chicken, “just-Jesus!”
Somehow I’d missed the fact that I was walking right towards a dead body while making my little checklist, and not just any old dead body either.
The corpse I’d fallen mere inches short of was grossly distorted, limbs bent in unnatural positions, blood still bubbling out from under him, and, judging from the dents along the back of his baggy white-turned-red shirt, his ribs had exploded out past his spine.
“Yeah… that’s an icky one,” Jesse said with a nod, “mind if I take a bite?”
“What the fuck kind of question is that?” I practically barked.
“I’m hungry,” Jesse snapped in response, “I got all warmed up on the beach and now I could use a nice afternoon snack.”
“What are you, three?”
“That depends,” Jesse replied as he started to circle the body with an expression on his face that made me incredibly uncomfortable, “do three-year-olds eat people?”
“I… alright, you do what you gotta do,” I sighed, accepting that there was no real point in trying to stop him, before turning my attention to the broken behemoth that was just a few dozen feet away, “I’m going to go check out the ship.”
“Sounds good,” Jesse said distractedly as I started moving towards the galleon, “shout if you need me.”
I didn’t bother responding, mostly because as soon as Jesse had finished speaking I heard the unmistakable sound of crunching bones and squelching flesh, but also because I was trying to figure out just how Jesse’s lunch had made it so far.
It was clear that he wasn’t one of the jumpers, they were all pretty close to the ship, so I went ahead and assumed that he’d simply been thrown from the deck by the sheer force of the vessel coming to an abrupt stop.
I liked doing that, thinking about inane shit instead of focusing on the things that were stressing me out. It meant that I got a chance to flex my brain a little, while at the same time getting desensitized.
That wasn’t really an option as I found a crack in the hull large enough for me to squeeze through near the middle of the ship and was welcomed by the grim sight of at least a dozen men that had had the level above them collapse and either crush or impale them.
“Fuckin’ Hell…” I muttered as I forced myself to pretend I couldn’t hear the groans from the good as dead people throughout the ship.
I was in the hold, judging from the barrels and stores around me, and while I was sure they’d have some decent gear down there, I decided it would be in my best interests if I didn’t start vacuuming up things that could be holding the lower part of the ship together.
So, without having to think about it too hard, I decided that I wanted to get up and away from the uninviting and still creaking gore-scape that was the hold.
The problem with that was that the only way up was by awkwardly clambering through the hole that had been made in the collapse, which meant going over the squished and possibly alive crew members.
Why didn’t I try to save them? Simple.
One, I’m not a doctor in any sense of the word.
Two, Schrödinger's cat, by which I mean if they were dead and I confirmed it by shifting debris, which could kill me in the process by the way, would it not mean I was responsible for them being dead?
Granted, I was probably a bit more responsible for their deaths by climbing up the debris and adding more even more weight to the already crushing wood, but by Austrian logic I was less at fault.
Anyway, I managed to get out of there, which only led to a dark, damp space filled with even more dead and mostly dead people.
“W
ell,” I whispered to myself, trying not to alert anyone of my existence, “this is just goin’ to be a shipful of messed up…”
CHAPTER 3
After a few minutes of creeping my way through the ready-to-split ship the groans started to die down, alleviating some of the guilt I felt as I searched for stuff I could nab up with my Toolbox without bringing the whole place crashing on top of me.
There wasn’t much, sure, but somewhere around the middle floor of the massive galleon I managed to find a cannon, a cannonball, a musket, a blunderbuss, and a few other odds and ends that I was sure would end up making my island one of Hell of a defensible position.
Granted, I wasn’t really sure why I’d need to defend myself, but at the same time I didn’t think they’d add cannons to a game where they’d be completely unnecessary.
Anyway, as I searched through the ship, finding knives and whatnot along the way, I started to get the idea that they were far less advanced than Seastrider and her crew.
For one thing, there was no sign of any kind of laser tech, and for another there was a whole lot more rot and general unsavoriness that I knew she wouldn’t let fly.
The ship also didn’t appear to have any cargo, just people, and at first I simply assumed that it was between ports, but then I started to notice the chains around some of the bodies.
“Slavers,” I murmured as I finally spotted a set of stairs that would take me to the deck about fifty or so feet from where I was standing, “of all the things to have, they had to include slavery…”
I knew I was being a bit rough on the game, especially seeing as my first experience with them was seeing their ship run aground, but at the same time it didn’t feel like an altogether necessary part of the world.
However, as I tested the first step and felt it flex slightly under my weight, I came to the re-realization that I still didn’t know very much about the world.
Sure they had laser guns and space travel, but who was I to say that it wasn’t possible that slavery existed?
Hell, as far as I knew it was illegal and the ship that had been practically shot in my direction was supposed to disgust and throw me off.
“Look at the state of this thing, Dax,” I said to myself as I finally started up the stairs, panicking at each step’s porridge-like solidity, “certainly ain’t somethin’ that’s being regulated by any governing body, and I…”
Suddenly my mouth was dry, my heart was pounding, and a weird sort of primal chill was running up my spine, all of which had started the instant I saw one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.
Her long hair was a rich blonde, her eyes a fiery blue, and her-
“Are you going to help me, or not?” the athletic naked woman pleaded coarsely, bringing my attention to the fact that her leg was trapped under a fallen sail.
“Uh, yeah, of course, of course.” I stammered before using the Toolbox to get rid of the splintered debris, freeing the woman and allowing her to lay flat on her back, her chest heaving with each relieved breath.
I wasn’t sure why yet, but there was still something that kind of terrified me about her, though I was quick to discount that as I’d seen a whole bunch of horrific crap on my way up to her.
“I’m Dax,” I said without moving, “what’s your name?”
“Folk call me Red,” the woman replied with an alluring British accent past a trembling breath, “nice to meet you, Creator.”
“As it is you,” I let out with a relieved sigh, pleased with myself that I’d managed to get through the initial stage of the interaction without any trouble but also missing the glaring fact that she’d revealed she knew exactly what I was, “can you tell me what happened here?”
Red went to respond one way, then stopped and sat up, leaning on her elbows for support, “I could,” she said with a smile, “or we could get off of this deathtrap and scamper before the whole thing goes up in smoke.”
“Oh, yeah, right…” I muttered as I looked around for any sign of an impending fire, “but why would it go up in smoke?”
Red rolled her eyes at that, maintaining her smile as she did so, “That’s simple,” she replied coyly, “I plan to blow it up.”
Naturally, I raised an eyebrow, “Why?”
“Uh, because they were holding me prisoner?” Red chuckled, “Seriously, you did just climb through this, didn’t you? So surely you would’ve been able to surmise that this isn’t a part of His Majesty’s fleet or anything like that.”
“I suppose that makes sense…” I trailed off, piecing together that she had something to do with the crash, although I had no clue as to what extent.
Had she simply been able to take advantage of an already bad situation or had she caused the crash?
Did she have help and did I have to worry about her accomplices attacking me or was she acting alone and had somehow pulled off an elaborately constructed scheme?
“Can we please get off this ship now?” Red implored, offering her hand to me, “I’d really rather not be here for much longer.”
I simply nodded in response before walking over, grabbing her by the hand, and pulling her up to her feet, barely taking note of the fact that her leg looked as good as healed.
She was around Cassie’s height, maybe a little taller, and her hair had this wafting, unknown scent that was doing a great job of drawing me in.
“Is there a quick way off?” I asked, looking around for a rope ladder or something and hiding the fact that I’d accidentally ended up sniffing the air around her head.
“Depends,” Red said, apparently not noticing how weird I’d been, before leading me across the deck towards the back of the ship, “are you any good at swimming?”
“I mean, I’m not horrible,” I replied, hoping that my modesty would offset the initial awkwardness, “but I don’t see how that’s going to help.”
“Trust me, it will.”
I wanted to get a bit more than that from her as we walked up the damaged steps which led to the poop deck, but I’d started to smell smoke and realized that Red’s ship detonation plan was already well and truly underway.
“Alright,” I said as we reached the rearmost point of the ship, “where to from here?”
“The water.” Red replied before, without any sort of warning, grabbing and throwing me overboard with a surprising amount of strength.
I went through a few different emotions as I soared through the air, most of which were either fear or panic-based, but for a few nanoseconds there I really felt like I was flying.
And then I started to fall.
CHAPTER 4
For reasons that should be obvious, I wanted to think about how Red had managed to throw me such a far distance given the height and weight disparity between us, but I couldn't focus on that.
No, I was far too engrossed with falling.
I say falling, but really it was mostly tumbling and flailing as I prepared to hit the water which I was pretty sure would be about as hard as concrete from the height I’d fallen from.
And then something happened, like a physical jolt to my brain caused by a flood of hormones and chemicals, and I knew what I had to do.
I’m not sure why I chose the axe, but I decided not to fixate on the why as, with a lot more effort than I’d expected, I cast it at the water, destroying the deadly surface tension mere moments before I hit it.
For a second there, I was back where I’d started when I’d first landed in the game, tumbling through waves and panicking, but I was better than I’d been then.
Oh, and the water was mostly still, so that helped some.
Anyway, with my slightly quicker brain, I managed to find the surface in an instant, which I quickly breached before taking in a lungful of air.
I didn’t get much of a chance to catch my breath though as Red, in all her nude glory, came crashing down a few feet to my right, causing what felt like a full wave to splash right into my open mouth.
Luckily, my head was still above the
water, which gave me a few seconds to cough and splutter before something grabbed my ankle and pulled me to the depths, setting off the real panic.
The good news was I had the sense to not start kicking at what I briefly thought was a sea monster before discovering that it was Red, well, a shadowy, blobby version of Red courtesy of my water-vision.
That’s when I remembered the last time I’d been underwater and, with a literal face-palm, made my bubble-based breath apparatus, clearing my vision and allowing me to breathe easy.
Red, understandably confused by what I’d just done, was outright freaked when I pointed my palm at her and, with slightly more difficulty than when I did my own, gave her a face bubble, to which she, after a couple seconds of grabbing at it in panic, gave me a relieved smile.
I’m sure I would’ve reciprocated that if Red’s gravity-defying breasts weren’t playfully and invitingly moving as she did her best to stay as low in the water as she could.
Thankfully for me, my eyes weren’t able to stay locked for much longer as, with a cacophonous blast, the ship exploded, sending a shockwave through the water so powerful I thought my lungs were about to explode as I was spun about, unable to right myself.
They didn’t though, and none of the rest of my vital organs seemed to have any particular trouble either as I came to a steady stop about an inch away from the clearly pleased Red.
She refused to say anything with her mouth as we floated there together, our bodies so close that every little movement caused us to brush against each other, but her eyes did a pretty good job of describing what she was thinking and feeling.
Based on my immense knowledge on the inner workings of women, I knew that she was relieved that we’d survived, proud of what she’d done, and wanted to get ashore and warm up next to a fire.
Yeah… that was wrong, all kinds of wrong.
You see, instead of making any attempt to get us moving towards the surface, Red went ahead and let her hand slip down the front of my billowing pants where, with ease, she found my half-mast.
Build-A-Harem- The Island Collection Page 14
