DB Lazarus
patreon
14. Harvest & Cleanup - I
🕑 Added 2024-10-17 04:00:05 +0000 UTCNeither of us said anything more as we headed back to the mine’s entrance. I needed time to digest everything from my dismal place in this world to the fact monsters seemed to be commonplace. At least I could wrap my head around the rigid hierarchy. It had elements similar to a feudal or possibly caste system. It offended my sensibilities, but it wasn’t completely foreign. As for monsters…
Were they everywhere or just in this area? A few people had used the name the Wilds. With monsters about, this area would be hard to tame. It also put the heavy near-military presence and wall into new light. What did they have to defend against?
Perhaps recognizing my mood, Dorian didn’t speak until we ended up in front of clusters of pull carts tucked off to the side that I had missed when I first entered. Dorian tapped a handle of one of the smaller ones. “Grab this one.” He then walked over to the largest one, clocking in at over twice the length of mine. I cocked my head. “Trust me. The weight will add up quickly once we start filling them. Better to ramp you up.”
I didn’t argue with that logic. I had experienced his unyielding grip. His strength far eclipsed my own. As he settled between the handholds, I asked a question I had mulled over during our walk here. “Dorian, I haven’t seen much of this place, but how common is our…mixed company’s arrangement?”
“It’s not.”
I waited for more of an explanation, but none came. Okay. I couldn't say I hadn’t tried. Not that I blamed him; I hadn’t been an open book either.
I switched topics. “So, we are going to load the terrorvoles into these, and then what?”
“Once we load up the carcasses, we will take them to the [Harvesters]. They will do a better job than anyone in the mines.”
“And what can they harvest from them?”
He snorted. “Everything they can. We are in the Wilds. Even dung has value given the tier of this area.”
We brought the empty carts to a stop in front of a clump of dead terrorvoles. A few glassy, red eyes stared back at me, their lifeless gaze a stark reminder of the recent carnage...and how close I came to being the one lying on the floor. I bent down to pick up a body but stopped upon seeing the pool of blood and offal on the ground next to it. Even this fresh, I still needed to suppress a gag triggered by the corpses' awful smell.
“Do you have any gloves?”
“They’re dead. They won’t bite.”
“Doesn’t mean they are clean.”
“You will be getting far dirtier mining.”
Yeah, I already needed a shower, but that wasn’t the dirty I meant. I leaned in closer. That was foam at one of the mouths. “They look diseased.”
“They are dead. They won’t bite.”
“They can still transmit an infection.” I trailed off as I recognized the familiar lack of translation. “At least tell me you guys don’t eat this meat?” I didn’t care how much they cooked it. No way would I trust it.
He laughed at that. “No. The meat messes with your Energy flows unless you have enough resistance. You don’t, by the way. Unless you have a skill, you would probably need to be higher than twenty. Even then, it isn’t very nourishing.” He tossed one of the dead rodents into the cart.
“I know you are saying it is safe, but can you tell me nobody ever gets sick after cleaning up monsters that are dis…” I shook my head in annoyance and then waved to the dead creature, trying to come up with another word besides diseased.
“Rabid?”
“Sure. Why not.” The logic about what translated made no sense.
“I have heard stories, typically the person is ill or…. Y’know, I keep forgetting what tier you are. Better to be safe than sorry. You should grab a pair of gloves. There are some back by the picks. I will keep working here, but you can grab some.”
“Thanks.” I hurried, cognizant of the pairs of eyes that kept checking on our progress.
I found the gloves on a shelf. On the way back, piles of dead terrorvoles had grown as some of the Ættir, all of them smaller than the leader, carried over carcasses from the monsters that had died at the edges of the cavern. However, no other carts joined ours.
I returned and found Dorian at another pile of corpses. I grabbed my cart and pulled it to another pile near his. We worked in silence, picking up one beast after another. Dorian lifted them with a pace I could not match. I didn’t try to keep up. This wasn’t a race. Even if it was, I had no chance of winning. I pegged their weight at no less than forty-five pounds, yet he tossed them around as if they weighed no more than five. Instead, I took the time to better examine their natural weapons.
I was no longer on Earth.
Up close, the deadliness of this world became ever so apparent. The terrorvoles came in at smaller than a mid-sized dog, but their claws and fangs better fit a grizzly. And Dorian called them a negligible threat? What was a big one? The dinosaurs in the forest? Either way, even their rodents were lethal.
I was no longer on Earth.
I needed to drill it into my head, make it my mantra. I repeated it with each terrorvole tossed into the cart.
With my cart half full, my back already started to ache. I ignored it as I pulled my cart to the next pile. It was large, and it would probably fill up the rest of the cart. “Dorian, is there a weight limit on these things?” The hand cart appeared well made, but it was made only from wood.
“You don't have to worry. The wood’s infused. Just fill it up to as much as you can pull.”
Infused? Half the things he uttered led to new questions, but how to ask them? I needed to find people to trust. Unfortunately, that seemed in short supply around here. I gave Dorian a long look. Could I trust him?
I pondered it as I stacked more of the terrorvoles onto my cart. We finished the pile, and Dorian headed towards the next one. It took me two tries, but I finally got the fully loaded cart moving. I stopped in front of the same pile and picked up another vole.
“Toss that and the rest of these onto mine. I saw how you struggled getting your cart moving. No need to kill yourself. It looks like we took down more than I thought. We are going to have at least one more trip to clear the place out.”
I hesitated only briefly. The cart was heavy, and my muscles already ached from earlier. The two of us quickly cleared the rest. Dorian moved the cart as if it wasn’t even loaded. I left my cart to follow Dorian and toss carcasses onto the growing mound in his cart.
It didn’t take long to fill his cart with a heap of dead terrorvoles. I surveyed the cavern. We would need to make another trip, but likely only one more. I returned to my cart. My muscles protested as I tried to move it. It took three tries to get it going, but I managed it. A good thing too. I didn’t miss the eyes of a few Ættir on me, watching me struggle.
It filled me with more dread than fire. I had a competitive streak, but my strength did not lie in the physical. They were waiting for me to fail, and if I did…
I tried not to think about that as I followed Dorian as he pulled the cart towards the entrance of the cavern.
