Cleaing the compound

((Book 1 if this is your first time here: 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BZZBHBMF

Book 3's finished version: 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CK72L912))

"Lawrence, get up."

Nyt speaks in a hushed whisper.

I stir, and the empty bottle falls from my grasp and rolls across the linoleum floor, banging to a stop against the frame of a bed.

"Huh? What?"

"It's day. We should be leaving."

I stare groggily up at her. Gray light bled through the windows. My head throbbed and ached, and I rolled over to bury my head in the sheets.

"Were you able to find something last night?" Nyt asks again.

I grumble and sit up.

"Yeah. It's about fifteen miles to the south in the hills." I say. "Guarded pretty heavily by cult members."

"How do you want to handle it?"

"You'll be able to find me through the translation spell, right?"

"Right."

"So...that." I wince at the light bleeding in through the curtain. Ah, might as well just get this over with.

I push myself up and slide on my scale armor, and then dig through the trunks to put together an outfit of a hoodie, and a windbreaker; as the rain had begun to batter the tin roof, a pair of fresh jeans and another pair of too big boots that I found tucked beneath one of the beds. Nyt tried to talk to me during this time, but I stopped her with a glare. Every word she spoke sent waves of pain through my head. God damn. How could my father live like this for so long? Perhaps if I drank enough, the headaches would stop.

The gray light of morning is even more painful as I step into it. Crickets chirp among the grass and flies, smelling the leftover blood from last night's battle, perhaps, buzzing around the small compound. Ah, it was so loud. The chill of winter clung to the raindrops that pattered against the plastic hood of my windbreaker. Ah, it was so fucking loud. I hurry on my way. I cast Lesser Heals on me in an attempt to relieve my headache and drink water conjured by my Coalesce.

How long was it going to rain? Honestly, it was getting annoying. During a normal year, it would never rain this much. I suppose 2023 for the Central Valley was different. I wonder, briefly, if the invasion has anything to do with it. We went straight from a long-enduring drought, straight into this? It was divine intervention, no doubt, now that I know such a thing exists. But why? Drown the crops? Could be. Make sure that we have plenty of water to withstand the siege that will happen in five years? Could be. Whatever it was, I just wished it would stop. The only good thing about living in this area was the temperate climes during fall and winter, and now I couldn't even enjoy that.

I emerge from the groves and head in the direction of the large house. It was going to be a slog. I glance at the skies and the rain wouldn't let out. Geese flew in v-formations as they made their way to warmer climes, and I contemplated doing the same. Would the US military look for me in Mexico? Probably. Europe? Asia? What, really is keeping me here? Clio? Shadow? I could take them with me. Monica? I barely knew her. Sure, I had kissed her, but I had kissed other women before. My head throbbed. Panic. Sorrow, and grief flood through me. If I stayed here, how many more people would I have to kill? I was already on my way to kill more. Oh, gods...

I pull a bottle of corked wine — one of several bottles found around the two trailers the night before. I grip the cork with my teeth and pull it out. I take a long, hard swig of the bitter, burning liquid, and push the cork back in.

After about an hour of schlepping through the mud uphill the sound of helicopter blades thrumming through the skies. Fuck. Have they found me? I glance around. Before shifting into Shadow's form and hiding out within the shadows of the tall grass. The helicopter passed by a couple of times overhead; lower and lower each time. Go away, go awayyy. There's no way it spotted me from that distance, right? Maybe infrared? I remember images of black and white people running in terror from drones. Shit, surely that would have been used. It took thirty minutes for the whirring of the helicopter's blade to fade away. I stay still, bunched up under some mud to lower my body temperature. Once I feel it's safe, I continue in the direction of the farmhouse in Shadow's form. At least a darting animal is less obvious than a fat human.

It took another two hours to reach the grove that the old homestead rested in. Helicopters flew by constantly; though I couldn't be too sure if they were in response to the torrential rain and the swelling river, or if they were in search of me. There was a kind of overhang where a stony ledge blocked the view from the sky. I only saw it because I had a focus on shelter, and was able to find it, so living here for the time being would also keep us all safe from air surveillance.

As I creep through the shadows of the overgrown trees, and through the layers of rotting fruit that sat underneath them I come across one of the cult members. He wears the same uniform as the ones by the trailer; white and red like some recreation of the white and red robes of the White One's priests in Efra. I slip into the shadows of one of the trees behind him and shift into my own form. I draw my knife, and hurry forward; yanking his hood off, and jamming the knife hard into the top of his head. His body goes slack and he falls backward and slides off of my shoulder. I caught him so that the noise didn't draw the attention. I don't want a firefight; it would draw attention, and it wasn't storming at the moment, so gunfire would be heard from miles away.

"You that binds the all, protect me from all those who would cause me harm."

I say as I tap my forehead with my staff and then walk forward. I was going to get this over with as quickly, and as brutally as possible. It was the fault of this fucking cult that I had to live life like this. It was the fault of this fucking cult that my parents died. That my brother's child died. It was all their fault. I uncork the bottle of wine, and take another deep drink; wincing as the foul liquid washed down my throat. It was their fault that I had to go through that battle…

I move to the edge of the grove and scan the area. There was a road that apparently curved around the grove that I hadn't noticed before that led into and out of the compound. At the end of this road, there was a gate and fence of mixed junk — tires, washing machines, bits of chicken wire, and barbed wire wrapped around it on top, that led into the small compound. Two guards stood at the front, and one stood on the roof with a sniper rifle. I climbed the nearest tree in Shadow's form to see if there was anyone in the mud-soaked yard of the compound. Several Doors stand within the compound; four in total. In addition, I had passed several dozen that There wasn't, so I hopped out of the tree, and behind a tree before shifting back into my regular form. I watch the sniper. He yawns as his eyes turn from the gate to the climbing hills behind him, and I act as quickly as possible. I point my staff forward in the direction of the two guards at the front at first.

"I welcome thee, o weary souls, into the domain of Caer Ibormeith. Let her whisk you away on billowing wings."

A gust of cold wind rushes from my staff and washes over them. They fall face-first into the mud.

"Oh you spirits of the Earth; deep, depress the Earth in front of me."

After I finish the incantation of Create Hole a trench forms beneath the two, and their bodies slide into the deep. All this before the sniper returned his gaze to the front. His eyes lazily scan the front; making a sweep of the area before turning his gaze away from the front.

"Bombard my enemies, o thou servants of Gob the magnomious."

I wrap my mana around a chunk of concrete in the middle of the compound, sat in the middle of the yard as a kind of barricade in case of an attack, and fling it. The concrete chunk sails through the air and smashes through the sniper's head. The stone sailed on, and the man fell backward and slid down the slanted roof until half of his body hung from its rim.

I move over to the trench and fill it with water to drown the two while they sleep, then step into the compound. Heavy hoof prints stain the mud coming in and out of the Doors within the compound. Proof enough that there were either people in there, or they were already dead. I suppose I'll get into them once settled in here.

The house was two stories, with an attic window at the very top. The pink paint was faded and coming off in thick strips hanging off of the wooden slats that made up the facade of the house. The shutters over the upper windows clatter as a gust of wind burst through the small alcove that the house sat under; the porch. I creep underneath one of the two windows that jutted out of the house into the cradle of the porch. I hold my staff up to the window.

"I welcome thee, o weary souls, into the domain of Caer Ibormeith. Let her whisk you away on billowing wings."

Before the mana spills out of the staff, I shatter the glass on the window.

"What the--"

The winds of Caer Ibormeith whip through the room beyond. Six thuds, and one loud crash later, I push through the front door. The door opens up into a pretty well-furnished living room for a house so far removed from civilization; a dusty couch sat on the bare, hardwood floor, a flat-screen television sat on a TV stand across from the living room, and several bookshelves full of now shattered china, and torn books. A movie was playing on the television; Fellowship of the Ring. One person had collapsed onto the glass end table and was already bleeding out on the rug, while the other had slumped over on the couch. There was a table near the door, and in the path of the Sleep spell; five people were passed out around it.

To my left, I hear a pair of heavy boots coming down from upstairs. A small threshold opened up into a kitchen. I walk to it, and a gunshot booms as a .45 breaks apart on my shield. He manages to get another shot off before I manage to draw my dagger and slam it into his chest in between some of the metal plates woven into his red and white vest. He gasps loudly before falling over.

Buckshot shattered my shield in several places. I bend down and pick up the pistol and turned to the man; he cocked his shotgun, and a red shell falls to the ground and fired. A few of the pellets bite into my skin a little before I fire my shot. The bullet punches a hole through his throat, and he slumps forward and rolls down the stairs.

I draw my dagger and finish the sleeping ones off, and then the house was quiet. I check upstairs, but there was no one there; only a couple rooms full of bunks, and desks full of papers. Maps lined the walls of the largest of these rooms, and an armory sat in one of the others.

Shadow, can you make it known to Nyt that I am finished here?

How?

Paw her leg or something and then head out the door. She's smart.

Okay, Mister. Do we have a new home?

Yeah, it's a pretty big one, too.

Once the message was sent, I began dragging the bodies out of the house. Once I got to the one who had bled out in the living room I heard a quiet, "Hello?" emerging somewhere from inside of the house. It was a woman's voice.

"Hello?" I echo.

"In the basement! Please!"

The door that leads down to the basement is embedded into the stairwell that leads to the top floor of the house. It opens up into a staircase that stretches down into a bleak, black room. I flipped on the switch, and the light bulb clicked on into a low hum. I step down, and take it slow. The wine had begun to take effect, and I didn't want to stumble down the stairs, though it probably wouldn't even hurt me, I didn't want to risk destroying the stairs.

Chains rattle as I near the bottom of the stairs, and I soon see the source. A woman; in a torn sundress kneels with her hands above her head; chained to the wall in the hard-packed soil ground of the cellar. The Dirt streaks her freckled face, and up her legs poorly hiding the fading bruises underneath. Dark circles fell down her bright hazel eyes, and her body trembled as soon as I stepped down that last step. Two children sit in cages with bowls of dried dog food and water. The young boy's chest was barely rising and falling, and the young girl sat sobbing in the corner of her cage, shaking and shivering.

"Are you one of them?" The mother asks.

"No," I answer.

The chain is held in place by a silver and blue lock. I pull my dagger off my belt and smash the flat side of the lock while pulling it toward me. The lock comes undone, and the woman falls face first before scrambling to her feet and leaning against me. Heart-wrenching sobs break from her, and I send continuous quick casts of Lesser Heal through her body.

I pull open the cages of each of the children and heal them as well. The woman coaxes her children out of their cages. The son looks to be about five or six years old and is in bad shape; several broken ribs, and a broken orbital bone. My healing wouldn't be enough to heal his wounds, but at least he was stable. The daughter had a faraway look in her eyes, and brown-red stains over her body. Some of her golden hair sat in clumps on the ground, and small, now fading scars crossed her arms and legs. I grit my teeth. Evil bastards.

"Are you one of the Chosen?" The mother says.

"I am." I answer through slurred speech, "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner."

"Please help! Two large... bull-like men dragged my husband and teenage son away somewhere! Please find them."

"Did you see where he went?"

"I saw my husband being carried off toward the old orchard, and my son vanished into thin air just outside."

"I'll find them," I answer. "I have to warn you though, my friend is coming over soon."

"Are they another Chosen?"

"No." I answer, "They're a cat. What's your son's name?"

"Paul," She said, "And Seth is my husband's. Please!"

She looks at me oddly while I stumble up the stairs. Now I have more of a reason to go after the Order of the White One. How many other people will they do this to if Arville falls? I can only imagine what that young girl had gone through. What that young boy had gone through. It was a level 56, and would be the highest dive I had done on my own yet.