Chương 14: Night Terrors

Combat requires a balance. It's natural to want to preserve your mana in a fight. However, be wary of under-committing. Lest you save for a rainy day that never comes. —The Artificer's Guide to the Apocalypse I didn't think when the Tar Fiends closed in. I couldn't think. I didn't dare. If I let my mind wander or question my sanity in facing the beasts, I wasn't sure that I would hold my ground. Ernie did not; his club thunked into the dirt when he turned and ran to the safety of the wagon.

We didn't blame him, or at least, I didn't. His courage took another form. The stink arrived before the fiends; mold, rot, and death wound its way up my nose, making me gag. Tall as a mastiff and twice as wide, they crept forward. True to their namesake, they oozed and festered, their backs filled with small bubbles that burst, sending the stench into the air. Breaking our defensive line, I leaped forward with Darby, the others close behind.

My makeshift club smashed into the nearest fiend, rattling at an impact that threatened to tear the club from my hand. Chunks of dark material sprayed away from the point of contact, and I was surprised at how deceptively rigid the oozing creature was. I hit it again, more softly to avoid the harsh reverberation, and the club simply stuck to the creature. The tar-like substance made a wet sucking noise as I fought to free the club. I braced my feet and pulled with every ounce of strength, finally ripping it free.

Grey pulsing flesh lay under the tear, but before I could strike at it, the exterior oozed back, covering the interior. A faint memory hit me then, and I didn't even need [Recall] to tell me. I would recognize Mrs. Robinson's third-grade science experiment anywhere.

"They're ooblecks!" I yelled, swinging at my target again.

"They'll crack if you hit it hard enough! I think we need to kill what's under them; you just gotta do it fast!" Around me, my companions were desperately thrashing at the fiends. Darby appeared to have more luck than I did, his strength from his Laborer class providing a much more substantial attack than my own. Large chunks were thrown away from his target, bouncing across the ground before settling and falling back to ooze. None of us compared to Emmie.

Her martial combat class was making short work of their harsh exterior. She just kicked and punched at a fiend, devastating it with her blows. Within moments, she was already nearing the core of the beast. I had an idea and swung again, loosening my grip at the last moment to avoid the savage rattle. Waiting just an extra moment before pulling away, I allowed it to grip my club. When I did tear it away, it ripped the outer protective layer just like I'd suspected.

Before it had a chance to fill in the gap, I shoved the club forward, easily sinking into the strange grey flesh. I yanked it back to stab at it again. My club came away half as long, the tip darkened and smoldering. My eyes widened at the realization, and I turned to warn the others.

"Be careful! The grey part eats—" I was cut off by a blood-curdling scream. Emmie fell to the ground, writhing in pain. She clutched at what remained of her right leg, left charred and smoking just below her knee. At the same moment, a flaming arrow flew past me, straight into the heart of the exposed fiend. It quivered and pulsed under its shell. I ignored it and ran to Emmie, sliding to a stop at her side just as her target whipped an appendage forward, grasping her other leg.

Loosening my hatchet from my belt, I desperately hacked at the thick trail of slime that led to the main body. My blade sank into the flesh, but it was too thick and just wound itself around the head of the hatchet. The body was approaching too quickly, and I just didn't have enough time; I didn't have enough strength. Not enough to pull her and fight the slime at the same time.

My head spun, and it felt like I was watching myself perform the actions, like a bystander observing from behind my eyes as the carnage unfolded. I listened to myself scream for help. A small voice was going on about hyperventilating, but I was too busy watching Darby. I saw his panicked gaze land on the pair of us, and then the night lit up. The pulsing slime exploded, sending rock-hard, jagged bits of flaming shrapnel slime outward. Something smashed into the side of my head and knocked me to the ground.

My ears rang, and I groaned, pulling myself back up. A flashing indicator in my vision desperately sought to grasp my attention. A health indicator had fallen slightly, and I shook my head. Senses knocked back into me, my focus returned, only to be shoved to the side, this time, from behind. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. I had been too preoccupied to notice that the screams of pain had turned to a roar of anger. Emmie flew past me, her face contorted in rage.

She'd launched herself at the slime that grasped at her leg, her fist thrown back, awash in a magical blue glow. It descended with her and crashed into the creature, splintering its shell, going straight to its core. The Tar Fiend exploded outward in a cone-shaped field of debris. Emmie roared again, throwing herself at the next, delivering the same destructive blow. I caught Darby's gaze and yelled to him.

"Get her before she kills herself!" I pulled myself from the bits of tar that did their best to glue me to the ground and looked back to the fire, now that we knew the creatures' weak points. Gene was already there, torching the arrows manually, not waiting for the fifth shot. He released them as quickly as he could get the flames to take. Once Darby had Emmie back to the wagon, Nancy Thompson took over and began to treat her wounds.

We returned to battle using flaming branches from the campfire as primitive spears to stab at the remaining fiends. The telltale pulse sent us running each time they were pierced to avoid the blowback when they exploded. Five minutes later, the only thing that remained of the Tar Fiends was the stench and pooling black ooze. We just stared at one another in disbelief for several moments.

"What the fuck was that!?" Darby let out a weak laugh of disbelief that came out as more of a shrill wheeze.

"What the FUCK was that!? Did that piece of shit really just send us out here to die?"

"Son…" Danny put a hand on his shoulder.

"Naw, man. Naw, this is messed up." Darby shook his head, shrugging off Danny's hand. He turned to leave, then stopped and turned back as if he realized there wasn't anywhere else to go, and spread his arms.

"I thought this was gonna be like camping, man. This shit's real, like, there's worse shit than that where we—""Now that's enough!" Danny hissed, angrily grabbing Darby's shoulder again, shaking him.

"We've got some terrified folk over there that are having a hard enough time as is. I get that things are fucked up, but you need to clear your head and think before you talk." I wanted to comfort my friend, to talk him down from his anxious spiral, but I had to check on Emmie. Dammit. She got hurt because of me. Why did I say that we needed to hit the core? I should have tried it first… My stomach roiled at my guilt, and a wave of nausea rolled over me. I wiped the sweat from my brow.

Despite the heat, my teeth chattered from the massive adrenaline dump that had finally made itself apparent. I clenched my jaw, forcing it to still. Mrs. Thompson's busy form was huddled over Emmie, who was biting down on a length of wood. She groaned as Nancy tightened a length of bleached bandage cloth over her stump. A small tin of orange salve lay open with large streaks where someone had dug a substantial amount from it.

"... Emmie?" I cleared my throat, and she opened her eyes to look up at me.

"It's my fault, I am so sorry. I didn't know they would… do that." She cocked an eyebrow, spat out the bite block, and laughed dryly.

"Fuck you mean, you're sorry?" I spread my hands.

"Look, nothing I say can change the fact that it's my fau—""Hell no, ain't no way you're tryna take credit for this." She raised her stump and winced.

"This was all me, baby. And I'd do it again, did you SEE what I did to those things?" She let her head fall back.

"I knew I could punch, but damn…"

"I suggested that we hit the insides though…" I tried again.

"You mean you stated the obvious? That we need to kill the squishy bit under the shell? I thank you for the effort, Captain Obvious, but I'm the one that chose to stick my foot in some weird shit. That's where I was headed whether you said anything or not." She grinned and looked back to the stars.

"Nance, what did you do to my leg? I don't feel anything." I left, and a great pressure fell from my shoulders. In my mind, she had been hurt because of me. A slight nagging voice kept telling me she just said it to make me feel better, but I respected her and would take her at her word. I gotta ask her about that punch once she's back on her feet—foot. God damn, is she a scary lady though. I returned to Darby. He was sitting alone, looking out into the night, and I sat down next to him.

We sat in silence for a long time, the reality of our situation finally settling in. Our grand adventure wasn't going to be all fun and games. It wasn't going to be a camping trip where we were finally free of the duke. Not all the time, anyway, not yet.

"How can he be like that?" Darby spoke quietly, picking at a blade of grass.

"We've even got kids with us, and he just kicked us out." It was strange, seeing his usual jovial self hidden behind this wall of anger and resentment.

"It's the system. This whole hierarchy of bullshit. Same as back on Earth, the rich get richer, and the strong eat the weak." I laughed.

"You know, I never thought I'd be an activist or whatever, but this place sucks. And I've been thinking. I'm gonna do something about it."

"Yeah? What are you thinking?"

"I'm gonna write a book, and it's gonna change the world." I half expected him to laugh at me, but he just looked at me intently.

"I wanna help."