Death Smith - Book 1 - Chapter 6

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Camping supplies

Seven months ago.

August, 13 AR.

Inside Rift 1.

Both Lance and Thomas were walking around the edges of their ‘camp’ at a slower pace. Lance’s injuries still troubled him, but he had healed enough to be able to take longer walks at this point. The walks had helped Lance recover a bit of his strength and had allowed Lance to learn more about this Rift from Thomas’s experience.

The camp comprising crude wooden shelters, basic campfires, and an outer wall of defensive rock and mud walls. Outside of the walls, the survivors had placed spikes to keep the weaker monsters at bay. There even were a few improvised snares and traps to catch the occasional wildlife.

“How are the ribs?” Thomas inquired, seeing Lance struggle to keep up the pace.

‘I can barely breathe without passing out,’ Lance thought. “Better,” he lied to Thomas as he felt his sides still throb because of the pain. He did not want to bother his friend with something that neither of them could fix at the moment.

A few days had passed since the large encounter that had ended up with the death of four survivors and countless wounded, including Lance. When they had first left the hospital, there had been twenty-four survivors, yet now only eighteen survivors remained.

In that time, Lance had recovered some of his strength, but his fractured ribs would need more time to heal before he would even want to think about doing something as taxing as coughing twice in a row. Daniel had been helping the wounded with their injuries, sharing some ointments that, when applied, had lessened the pain of injuries. It was only a temporary fix, but it made all the difference inside a Rift.

“Good to see Dieter back on his feet again,” Lance said, watching Dieter check the crude stone and mud walls they had fashioned to serve as an outer wall. Despite his head injury from before, it only took him a day before he was fine again, with Daniel’s wounds fully closed a day later.

‘Although now they are just rubbing it in our faces,’ he thought in a slight moment of jealousy. It was great to see the resilience of the Rifters and their ability to recover, yet it did cast an intimidating shadow over the ‘mere humans’ that they were protecting.

“Lance, are you sure you are not pushing yourself too much?” Thomas finally asked in a rare moment when the nurse in him was stronger than his awful personality as a best friend.

“Are you kidding me? I heard from the others that you went on six hunting trips with Dieter. Six in a row!” Lance retorted, still amazed at how quickly Thomas was gaining the Rifters trust and respect.

“Ah. Well, I figure it made sense due to me having fewer injuries than most. Right?” Thomas countered.

Thomas’s words tempted Lance to action, with Lance wanting to hit Thomas on the back of the head. He suppressed the urge because of the high chance of it backfiring and hurting his ribs even more. Lance understood why Thomas was going out so much with several other survivors and Dieter. As a large group, they were quite vulnerable to ambushes, like what had happened a few days ago. But when they went out with just Dieter and the Rift-hound, they were the ones doing the ambushing.

‘I guess it is easier to take them out in smaller groups when you had the element of surprise. No doubt the Rift-hound and Dieter did the heavy-hitting while the six survivors that went with him would encircle the monsters and keep them pinned down. That or catch the occasional straggler,’ Lance thought, internally going over their chances.

“How long do you think it will take before we finally leave this place?” Lance asked finally.

“I don’t know. Dieter said that each Rift is unique. It would all depend on the density of the Rift itself, or the ‘level’ as other Rifters have called it,” Thomas explained, once again showing his deep understanding of the Rifts and the lore after having spent countless hours watching Rift documentaries in the last few years and getting a Rifter crash course from Dieter. Apparently, Thomas had impressed Dieter with his initiative and a similar style to solving problems; that being their fists.

Thomas continued after that. “Last time we went out, Dieter said that we are slowly thinning them out already. He figured another week of hunting will take care of most of the roaming parties, leaving only the remnants that usually linger around the centre of the Rift.”

The last point confused Lance. He realised that he simply did not grasp what a Rift truly was. “The rift has a centre?”

“Not quite... I mean... Look, I am just saying what Dieter told us. It is a place where the energy of the Rift originates from. That is the anchor point that ties this Rift to our world. Some Rifters refer to it as the centre or the Rift-event,” Thomas explained as the two men finished their walk and slowly made their way over to the others. He then continued to explain to Lance what Dieter had told him earlier.

“The Rift we are in now is an initial Rift and is still new. These pose an enormous threat when suddenly appearing, but only initially. Dieter said that the energy within an initial Rift is also more unstable. So, in these types of Rifts, the monsters are weaker when you compare it to a Rift that has had more time to establish itself,” Thomas said, trying his best to make it all sound logical.

Lance’s mind, however, lingered on the aspect of the monsters still being weak at this point. “Are they calling the Lizardlings weak?” Lance asked Thomas as his mind tried its best to grasp what type of threat an older or more complex Rift might hold. ‘Just how strong are the monsters they are used to fighting?’

“It would seem so. I mean, even Daniel could kill several of these Lizardlings with one hand and not using his preferred choice of weaponry. That and both lack a large amount of the equipment they would usually have with them. A prepared squad of Rifters would manage a Rift such as this with far more ease,” Thomas explained calmly, as if he already pictured himself being in one of those squads in the future.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Lance said while wondering how Daniel or Dieter would handle a Rift like this if they had better tools, provisions, and if Daniel was still healthy and able to use both of his arms. ‘I can only imagine how effective they could have been if they weren’t busy babysitting a bunch of non-Rifters.’

“Come on, Lance. You got to look at this strategical. Each time we go out, we lessen the chance of an ambush. Each enemy killed is a step closer to us going home and eating something beyond candy bars, dried jerky and sour fruit.”

At that, Lance had no choice but to nod and agree with Thomas.

* * * * *

“Hold,” Thomas whispered, seeing Dieter blend in with the environment in a way that seemed unnatural. The Rift-hound did this even better, suddenly ending up sitting next to you without making a sound. Although this had been his seventh raid he was participating in, it never ceased to amaze him how skilled a Rifter was.

As Thomas peered across the ridge, they noticed five monsters feasting on a six-legged creature that looked like it was native to this world. It lacked the crystal-like shard embedded in its chest that the monsters had, showing that it was different compared to the monsters.

The creature looked bloated and rotten, but the four Lizardlings and single Lizardman were tearing it apart without hesitation, with the larger Lizardman ripping off the larger pieces and occasionally hissing or clawing at its smaller brethren to assert dominance.

With six other survivors next to Thomas, he felt more relaxed. But he knew that if it were just them, then they could not win.

‘Wait for the signal,’ Thomas told himself repeatedly, like a mantra. He needed to keep calm and focused. The entire plan revolved around them being precise and in control of the fight.

Then, without making so much as a sound, Dieter made his move. He threw a burning spear from the bush and embedded it in the stomach of a Lizardling. The force was enough to propel it back before it slid to a full stop.

The impaled monster was still alive, flailing in agony at the large wound and flames licking its body. The spear had several pieces of old dried bark tied to the handle. Dieter had set the bark on fire beforehand and it was slowly engulfing the monster.

At the sudden attack, the other three monsters sprung to action, hissing, and clicking their claws angrily as they tried to find their enemy.

“Three… Two… One,” Thomas counted out loud. Like they had practised, the group of survivors suddenly stood up and threw six makeshift spears toward the monsters.

The downwards angle would hopefully add a bit more punch to the attack, although it was more of a distraction than a real offensive move. The second they had released their spears; they would duck for cover again and crawl to the side.

The moment the monsters shifted their gaze toward where the spears had come from was the moment the Rift-hound suddenly rushed out of the bushes. In a burst of speed and aggression, little Hans had grabbed a Lizardling by the neck. Moments later, the Rift-hound had dragged a screeching monster away from the group.

At that moment, Thomas screamed. “Now!”

The survivors then came rushing down the slope. All the survivors carried several rocks and showered the remaining two Lizardlings and the Lizardman with rocks. They all aimed for the eyes to inflict damage, but more so as a distraction.

The enraged Lizardman roared as it prepared to charge the survivors. It stopped in its tracks when it heard something large hitting something squishy behind him. As it turned around, it heard a squeal from a Lizardling.

“Form a barrier!” Dieter yelled as he lifted his blood-soaked mace upwards. His left foot was pressing down at the back of the Lizardling with enough force to fracture a few of its scales. The trapped and wounded Lizardling hissed because of the pain.

“Zhis is not going to end vell for you,” Dieter said with a grin as he brought his right foot down hard on the struggling Lizardling, caving in its head before walked forwards.

The Rifter’s left hand gripped the neck of the other Lizardling. The monster was already dead after having bashed in its skull at the beginning. Within moments, the party had taken down four Lizardlings and was now surrounding the large Lizardman.

In terms of strength, it could no doubt beat the survivors with ease, yet that meant that it would have to ignore the Rifter. Doing so, Dieter would not hesitate and kill it.

Beyond the humans, there also was the threat of the Rift-hound who had dragged a Lizardling away from its group earlier and was now joining the survivors with its face covered in blood and crunched up bits of scale.

“Hold the spears outwards, be ready to assist one another,” Thomas said to the other survivors, slowly inching forwards and occasionally using a spear to poke and prod at the monster to break its concentration or to annoy it while Dieter charged in, using his heavy mace to strike at it several times in a row before backing off.

Each small skirmish chipped away at the Lizardman’s thick scales, breaking them apart or even shattering a claw that had tried to go for Dieter’s neck.

By now, anyone could see how this was going to play out. The monster was already out of stamina due to it having to defend from several angles. Dieter himself looked energetic and fresh thanks to him being able to take a few seconds off to rest before rushing in again.

The fight finally ended when the Rift-hound rushed forwards at a nod from Dieter, biting and clawing at the Lizardman’s left arm. The Rifter then rushed forwards, gripping the monster’s right arm while slamming his mace down on the shoulders several times in a row.

Seconds later, the Lizardman was on its knees, exhausted and broken. Dieter had battered the monster’s arms to the point of them being useless. The survivors simply watched the defeated monster from a safe distance, fixated at the sheer strength of the Rifter.

‘What is he waiting for?’ Thomas thought as he glanced past the Lizardman and watched Dieter simply stand there. He held the monster’s mangled wrist and simply applied continuous pressure until they could hear bones breaking and shattering. Dieter kept watching it with a calm expression. It looked like he was studying the Lizardman and its paint, as if learning vital information about it.

Finally, Dieter ended it, either having learned enough or simply growing bored. The mace smashed down four times, hard. Then, as if his entire actions until now had been perfectly normal, he joined the other survivors.

“Good job on zhe timing. It was better zhan yesterday, no?” Dieter asked cheerfully.

“Ah... yes! It was.”

“No one got hurt and there were even more of them this time.”

The group said, with Thomas agreeing. Sure, it was scary and there was the chance of injury and death, but Dieter knew what he was doing.

“Now, ve harvest zhe black-shards,” he told them as he stepped backwards, allowing the survivors space to work. The survivors then cut out the blackish crystal-like objects that were inside the chest of the dead Lizardman and Lizardlings. They were comparable to white shards that Rifters had in their chests.

It took a bit of cutting and prying before they had harvested the black shards and handed them over to Dieter, who would place them in his backpack for now.

“Why are they so different compared to yours?” Thomas asked before Dieter grinned and leaned closer to tell a horrible and bloody story.

* * * * *

“I swear to god. That is what he did,” Thomas and his party told the other survivors who were hanging on to their every word.

Although the story Thomas had told was a bloody one, it excited many of the survivors. Most of them wanted to hear more about how the monsters were being hunted instead of them being the predators.

“Did Dieter truly break a monster’s arm like that?” One of the more doubtful survivors asked. It quickly resulted in the others bombarding the survivor with tales of what they had seen during their hunts.

The story fascinated Lance at first, but it had lost a bit of its effect after hearing Thomas tell it three times in a row. Instead of fascination for the bloody story, Lance had got curious what these black shards were and why they were so similar to those of the Rifters.

‘Thomas had explained it to me after he had asked Dieter. Yet it feels... incomplete?’ Lance thought. The monsters had black-tinted shards, and the Rifters had white-tinted ones. Rifters collected black-shards and sold them for a profit back on Earth. Some people even used them as raw materials for certain items. ‘That means that it is more than just some jewel or gem that holds some sort of value. Right?’

Dieter had even told Thomas about ‘Skills’ occasionally being found embedded in these shards, yet the thick German accent had made it too hard to understand. ‘No doubt there has to be a connection between the shards that appear on those that survive a Rift and the monsters that live within the Rifts,’ He thought as he strolled around the camp again, suppressing the small jolts of pain he occasionally felt from his sides.

‘Daniel had explained to the group that Dieter would make a few more hunting trips before we head closer to the centre, where the Rift’s energy was most clearly felt. I wonder what we might encounter there?’ The young man thought as he gazed upwards, seeing the star-filled night sky that was so different compared to Earth’s. There wasn’t a moon or planet that Lance recognised or a constellation that he might be vaguely familiar with. All this only increased his yearning to go home.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Author: Osirium

Copyright: 2021 OsiriumWrites

Released: 2021