NOVEL NEXT CHAPTER 108: Day 6 Demon Dog & More
Atlas sighed as he glanced at Olivia. "Olivia, I know we look like the bad guys right now, but by tomorrow night, you'll understand. Hell, I get it. If someone took over my camp right after a friendly diplomatic exchange, I'd think they were evil Satan worshipping assholes too. But I guarantee, on my honor as a Portal Crusher, that nothing bad is going to happen to you guys."
Olivia, her voice firm, interrupted, "We prefer the term People of Earth. 'Guys' is a masculine pronoun that encapsulates the patriarchy."
Atlas inwardly groaned. ‘Fuck‘, he thought. ‘Was it worth saving these people?‘ Out loud, he said, "Okay, I won't harm the People of Earth. By tomorrow, you'll understand what we're doing."
That night, as they gathered for a quick debrief, Atlas's mind was elsewhere. ‘Probably between two to four demon dogs attacking tonight. That’s what he and his team would be facing soon. They had to be ready.‘
"So, how was the hunting today?" he asked the team.
"It went pretty well," said Alexander. "We collected 190 coins."
"And we also got another 100 from spawns while guarding the dungeon," Isabella added.
"That's great," Atlas said, nodding. "It's close to what we need, and with what we got from the Earth’s Children’s camp, we did pretty all right."
Evalynh chimed in, “We also managed to kill some mutated deer from that small forest near the river. They were grazing, and had no idea we were coming.”
Alexander grinned, “And don’t forget that nice slime nest we found. I say we celebrate tonight with a drink.”
Atlas smiled slightly but shook his head, “Maybe after. We need to stay sharp for what’s coming.”
Evalynh sighed dramatically, “Fine, fine. Duty before pleasure.”
Atlas looked around the settlement. Then his eyes narrowed as he spotted someone familiar in the group of prisoners. ‘Holy fuck‘, Atlas thought. ‘Isn't that the traitor Ronald?‘ A slow grin spread across his face. ‘Time to put him to some use.‘
"Ronald," Atlas called out, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Look over here. We've got a job for you."
Ronald, already terrified, couldn’t move far as he was already glued to a stake made of leg bones. There was no escape.
"Remember when you took off? And stole vital medical equipment and supplies?"
Ronald, his face pale, mumbled, "I-I didn’t mean to… I thought…"
"Well tonight, we need someone to help us with the demon dogs," Atlas continued, ignoring Ronald's stammering. "And guess what? You’re perfect for the job."
Ronald struggled against the leg bone pole that staked him to the ground, his voice trembling with fear. "No, don't! Don't stake me out!"
Atlas stared down at him with cold eyes. "You deserve it, you traitor," he said, his voice ringing out across the settlement. The atmosphere grew tense as the hippies, already panicked, exchanged nervous glances. The Portal Crushers looked grim, their silence speaking volumes.
"This man is a traitor," Atlas announced, loud enough for everyone in the settlement to hear. "He stole crucial medical supplies during an emergency situation. And in times like these, traitors pay the price."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “We’re fighting for survival out here. Every decision matters, and every betrayal could be the difference between life and death. Ronald’s actions could have cost lives, and tonight, he will face the consequences.”
A man wearing a "Coexist" shirt stepped forward hesitantly. "We demand a trial!"
Atlas raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Anybody who wants to be his lawyer, speak up now. We'll put you right up front where he's staked out."
The crowd shifted uneasily, eyes darting toward the wilderness beyond the fence. But no one volunteered. The threat of demon dogs was too real, and no one was willing to risk it.
"No?" Atlas's voice was mocking. "No takers?" He scanned the faces of the Portal Crushers and crafters, but they all remained silent, remembering the trial of Snedlie the thief and the harsh lessons that came with it.
‘Now is the time for the next step of mental tempering,‘ Atlas thought. ‘We need to be strong, united. I may look like an asshole right now, but they’ll all understand later.‘
"All right," Atlas said, turning back to his team. "We have the watchtower now. We need three people up there. Who's got the crossbows?"
Three Portal Crushers grabbed crossbows and headed to the watchtower. Atlas addressed them with a sharp tone. "First action is the crossbows. When you see the demon dogs approach, just start firing. No need to wait until you see the red of their eyes—just start firing. We're not going to be short on crossbow bolts anytime soon."
Barbara, who was assigned to lead from the tower, nodded grimly. ‘This will be a difficult assignment, but I can do this,‘ she thought.
"They're going to get closer. And the first thing they're going to go for is our nice, juicy piece of bait here," Atlas said.
Ronald's eyes widened in horror as the reality really hit him. "No!" he screamed, his voice echoing in the night. But his pleas fell on deaf ears, as the Portal Crushers prepared for the inevitable attack. Atlas freed Ronald from his previous stake. Tearing the skin on Ronald’s hands badly, and restaked him near the watchtower.
The settlement tried to ignore Ronald’s cries for mercy. Some of the captive Earth’s Children wept loudly in sympathy.
‘‘‘
Later that night, as the demon dogs zeroed in on Ronald, their snarls echoing through the night, Atlas wasted no time. "Crafters, Porters," he barked, "make sure you're ready with those leg bones and the KrazyBondoglue!"
"Yes, sir!" they shouted back, scrambling to prepare for what was coming.
The crafters yelled out their slogans as they worked. “For the Crushers!” one shouted. “Let’s stick it to them!” another added with a grim chuckle. “Glue them to the ground, no escape!” came another cry, their spirits high as they fortified their defenses.
The fight with the dogs was brutal. They ripped Ronald apart. His screams echoed through the night, and bits of viscera and bone were all that was left of him. The beasts were relentless, their glowing red eyes reflecting the firelight as they lunged at the defenders. Blood and sweat mixed on the ground as the Portal Crushers fought with everything they had. The roaring from the demon dogs was a musical cacophony of terror-inducing sounds.
"It's getting harder, Atlas," Alexander grunted, pulling his sword from one of the dog’s sides. Blood dripped from wounds on his arms and legs, but his focus remained razor-sharp.
Atlas, breathing heavily, nodded. "I know. But don't worry, I've got plans for it. Just hang in there."
The team fought valiantly, but it was clear that they were taking more damage with each attack. Despite the intensity of the battle, they managed to hold the line. John, to everyone's relief, didn’t lose his arm this time, though he was nursing a deep gash on his shoulder.
When the last of the demon dogs fell, silence settled over the camp, broken only by the labored breathing of the fighters. The night was still, save for the crackling of the dying fire and the distant rustling of the forest.
But then Atlas heard it—the muffled crying and screaming coming from the makeshift prison where the hippies were being held. A pungent stench hung in the air, a mix of urine and fear. The prison stakes, located perilously close to where the demon dogs had attacked, was filled with the sounds of terror and despair.
Atlas approached the forest of bones which formed the makeshift prison, the smell growing stronger with each step. The hippies had been close enough to witness the violence, and the fear of being used as bait next was palpable. They huddled together, trembling, their eyes wide with dread.
‘They thought this was paradise‘, Atlas mused darkly. ‘But now they’re seeing the truth. This is survival, and survival is ugly.‘
The People of Earth stared at Atlas with a mix of fear and loathing. Their idealistic view of the world shattered, replaced by the harsh reality of the wasteland. They could no longer ignore the brutality needed to survive in this new world.
Atlas stopped outside the prison, surveying the scene. He could see the effect the attack had on them—their faces pale, their bodies shaking, some of them too scared to speak. The weight of what he had done, and what he had yet to do, pressed down on him like a heavy stone.
For a moment, Atlas stood there, listening to the cries, feeling the tension in the air. This was the price of survival in the wasteland—a harsh reality that left no room for mercy. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far more brutal.
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