CHAPTER 571: HEROES

Mason marched the eastern rebels into the ground. With his Wayfinder power, he had a very good sense of exact distance, which meant he knew how far they were traveling. From his prepper days, he also knew roughly how far a normal, healthy person could go per hour on flat terrain. Most civilians in the apocalypse still had a small ‘stat’ boost over regular earth humans. So he expected that, and more.

Francois the French chef may not have complained, but plenty of others did. Mason sensed the eyes crawling up his back. The exchanged looks. The quiet appeals to Chinua or his officers about the pace. He let it build for a few hours. When Demi started giving him looks, too, he turned.

“You’re tired,” he said, his voice flat. “You’re underfed. Some of you are sick. I don’t care. You think you’re safe? You’re not safe until we’re back in Nassau. For the next two days, and preferably one and a half, you walk my speed, and I don’t care how you feel. Your bodies can take it, so put any thought of stopping out of your mind.”

He glanced at Chinua, who he could swear fought a small grin. Then he turned back around and walked slightly faster.

He wasn’t sure why, exactly, he was being so hard on them, other than what he said to them was true. But something was tickling the back of his neck.

Maybe it was that night he’d guarded them in the cave—a feeling like everything would be OK. That they were safe and everything would work out. He hated that feeling. He didn’t trust it.

‘Safe’ was how a thing felt right before it got ambushed and eaten.

So he walked, and kept his senses tuned. Streak felt it and raced around the hills, listening, sniffing. Whenever the wolf walked by the rebels he growled at stragglers like a sheep dog, then bolted off in some other direction.

“My scouts report nothing,” Chinua told him later, his tone casual. Mason said nothing and they walked together for awhile. They slipped by a larger hill, and Mason took the opportunity to creep up and take a better look around the terrain. He couldn’t see anything obvious, but the feeling wouldn’t go away.

“Do you know something I don’t? Something you’re not telling me?” Chinua said beside him.

Mason shook his head. But yes, he sort of did. He knew there were gods and demons watching him and everyone else. He knew their synthetic overlord was obsessed with danger and drama and that a pleasant walk through pretty hills wasn’t that ‘interesting’. There was something wrong. There was violence just over the horizon. He knew it in his bones, he just didn’t know how to explain it.

“I know we’re vulnerable,” he said eventually. “I know if I was our enemy, this is when I’d attack us.”

Despite saying this, he still struggled to see what would pose a real threat. He didn’t fear a single thing in this world on flat, open, natural ground. They could send an army of demons, and he’d kill them. He kind of already had.

But he wasn’t alone. The infernals maybe couldn’t or wouldn’t attack random civilians, especially with Mason there and likely to kill them. But those abyssal sure as hell would.

“They’ll wait until nightfall,” he thought out loud. “We’ll need another defensible position. Somewhere we can protect the civilians.”

Chinua nodded. What the old soldier thought of Mason’s paranoia he had no idea, but he wasn’t arguing.

“I’ll send my scouts ahead to look for a place. We have a few hours of light still.”

Mason nodded, relaxing a little at the knowledge that these people weren’t helpless or green. He gave Chinua a wink as he rose.

“Probably nice not to be the bad guy for awhile.”

The old soldier laughed as he stood.

“What else would I do with myself.”

“Feel free to complain with the others. Solidarity can be nice.”

“Don’t worry, my young friend.” Chinua’s face turned serious again. “They’ll do as you ask. We’ll carry them if required.”

Mason forced himself to stay near the others, sending Streak ahead to protect Chinua’s scouts. He spent most of his time using One with Nature, reaching out in every direction and trying detect any change, anything unusual.

“I could float a few blooms out,” Demi told him. “But I can’t sense anything wrong. What’s got you so worried?”

He shrugged and put an arm around her, not wanting to worry her for no reason. But he knew something was wrong. Something had changed. And he didn’t care if he was being paranoid or if there were gods whispering in his brain. He knew.

The next few hours went on just as before. Chinua’s scouts came back with a few options to make camp, none of which were good. There was nothing but hills and plains. A few patches of trees that would cause more problems than they’d solve. Nothing to put their backs against. Nothing to hide in that they could trust.

Ultimately, Mason and Chinua debated, but agreed on a hill in the open.

“They know were here,” Mason said, with no evidence to back it up. “I’d rather see. I think we should light fires, too. All around the camp.”

Chinua hadn’t liked it, but he agreed. His people helped set the camp, then the civilians dropped with exhaustion in the middle. Mason winced as he watched them. A part of him wanted to dig ditches, but none of them were armed. There wasn’t much point to a ditch if you didn’t defend it.

“Your civilians should all have spears and bows,” he said to Chinua later. “Civilians can die to demons. They should be able to fight them.”

The man nodded like he didn’t disagree.

“They got used to safety in the capital. By the time we’d fled…it didn’t seem possible. In a world of people like us, they feel…helpless. They feel safer if they don’t lift a weapon at all.”

Mason was annoyed, but he understood. The people who wanted to fight became players. Most were civilians because they wanted to avoid the physical danger of violence. And Chinua was probably right—thinking you could fight some giant monster was likely a good way to get yourself killed.

But then goblins were ‘weak’, and yet still dangerous. He wondered if would be possible to get his goblin allies to start making weapons for civilians. Some kind of gun, or explosive.

Of course the things might just blow up and kill people…

“Want me to start setting up spores and traps?” Demi said, still waiting quietly at his side. Having her there made him feel better, no matter the situation. He smiled and took her hand.

“Don’t waste too much mana. We might need it.” He shrugged. “Or it might all be a waste of time.”

“A light dusting, then,” she said, grinning. Her eyes flared with power as she walked the perimeter. Plant life grew between rocky cracks, stalks of thorny or fungal life forming up like a barbed wire fence.

He could see the comfort it gave the others. And not just the magic, but Demi’s presence. Everywhere she went people smiled and thanked her. He could see some closing their eyes and smelling the air. Even the damn grass looked greener where she walked.

Mason couldn’t help but watch and smile, too, despite the feeling crawling all over his skin. He waited, and reached out with One with Nature. Further and further he pushed his ‘sense’ beneath the ground and tried to hear the soil. Or whatever the hell he was doing.

Little hairs stood all over his body when he went further. It wasn’t anything in particular. He didn’t feel movement or screams or fighting. It was an absence. A stillness like before…

He glanced at the sky and smelled the air and felt it, annoyed he hadn’t detected it sooner. One with Nature was incredible, but it clouded some senses to focus another. There was moisture on the air, and a growing wind.

“I smell it, too,” Chinua said, coming up beside him. “Some weather is coming our way. We haven’t known each other long. But something tells me you’re not a man who gets worked up about nothing. If you worry, I suspect I would be wise to listen.”

“Careful.” Mason tried to smile, still watching the clouds. “You’ll have to listen to me all the time.”

Chinua’s stone face cracked, but not much.

“I don’t believe I would change our plans. There’s no time. And we’ll still see better on the hill.”

“Agreed,” Mason said. “There’s a moon, at least. We might miss the worst of it.” He took a breath, then looked at the sun as it dipped beneath the horizon.

“If they come,” he met the soldier’s eyes, “don’t chase them out of Demi’s magic. Hold your ground. I’ll move in and out and make a mess. But I want all of you together and knowing where the others are.”

Chinua nodded, and Mason didn’t know how to ask or maybe just say what he wanted and needed to say. He tried once or twice before he forced it out, knowing the man had a woman, that those civilians were people he loved.

“We need your players, Chinua,” he said, thinking of the doom and the planar assault to come. “Humanity needs them. I don’t want heroes throwing away their lives. If it comes to it…I mean, if we can’t hold the position, I just want you to understand. We may have to run. Your players may have to run.”

Chinua’s eyes were enough to tell Mason he understood. He looked at his people.

“You are a general, and this is but one battle in your war. I don’t judge you. But it is for you to understand, my friend. My civilians will be leaving this hill, or none of us will.”

With that he turned and walked away without another word. Mason let him go. He knew then why all those people had followed the man out of the city and into danger. Why they had trusted him with their lives. Because he was worthy.

Mason smiled and stared out into the fading light, putting away his fear for these people. They would fight and do their best, and they would survive, or not. He’d do everything in his power to protect them.

But a piece of him now wanted to see what his enemy would risk, and sacrifice. He didn’t fear the dark or the storm. Not anymore. So what would it send that he couldn’t just kill, long before it arrived? The concern was gone, replaced by excitement.

“Whatever it is,” he whispered, maybe for the demons, maybe for roboGod. “I’m going to kill it. And then whatever sent it, too.”

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