The Waystation Ch. 28 (Patreon)

Chapter 28

The Approach III

Bert dove aside as the wall collapsed. Before he even finished his roll, another section of the wall collapsed.

“God damn, trap-setting, tricksy little fuckers!” Bert growled as he dodged away again. A small section of the ceiling gave the barest hint of a creak before it joined the general chaos. That last piece had come damn close to crushing his foot. As the general chaos suddenly stopped, Bert balanced on one foot. Looking suspiciously at the floor around him, uncertain if there was a safe space to stand.

“So, how’s this going so far?” Bell said sweetly.

Bert craned his neck, looking over his shoulder at the pixie as she ate a large sandwich almost the same size as herself.

“Wonderful,” Bert said casually, “For some reason, they seem to have forgotten a few traps when they left.”

“Oh, you noticed that?” Bell grinned impishly as she gently rolled her crust into a ball.

“Bell?” Bert said tensely as he began to sweat.

“Yes, Bert?” Her innocent voice again.

Fuck.

“Any chance you could not do this?” Bert asked hopelessly.

“None.” Bell grinned and flicked the ball into the room.

Both of them watched the little ball arc into the center of the floor and bounce once, twice, and roll gently across the floor.

A soft little click sounded as it rolled to a stop.

“Bell!” Bert just had time to yell before the chaos began again.

As he dodged between falling bits of wall, ceiling, and on one memorial occasion floor, Bert didn’t even have time to scream obscenities at the pixie.

Rolling out the remains of the door a few moments later, Bert stood as the last remnants of the watchtower he had chosen to explore collapsed onto itself.

“Are–” Bud cut off as Bert raised a finger.

The doorway toppled inward with a soft clatter of bricks. Bert lowered his finger.

“Are you okay, Bert?” Bud asked as he watched the Caretaker methodically brush the dust and bits of wood off himself. There was an eerie calm about Bert at that moment.

“Fine, thanks, Bud.” Bert smiled in a slightly deranged way. “Say, have you seen the pixie around here?”

“Sure, she’s just over there,” Bud pointed back toward the Waystation.

“Thanks, Bud. I’m just going to have a word with her, won’t be long.” He walked away, still smiling, as Ice began to encrust his prosthetic hand.

Lowes and Reed were sitting at a table outside the Bear’s Fall when the pixie blew past in a blur. Reed opened his mouth to ask Trav, who had joined them for a light brunch, what that was about when Bert walked calmly past with a smile on his face and carefully closed the door to the Bear’s Fall.

All the windows and other doors slammed shut a second later.

Trav sighed and picked up his plate. “We should move a little further away,” He nodded to the others, “Rather quickly, I feel.”

As Lowes and Reed were about to object, a loud thump rattled the wall nearest them. As they hurried a little further away, an aura of frost began to form around the point of impact.

Bert emerged a moment later, whistling as he trotted back down the drawbridge.

“That was a little—” Lowes began.

“BERT J. HUDSON, YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!” Bell screamed from inside the Bear’s Fall.

As the three rushed inside, a scream of frustration rang out. Cautiously approaching the door, the three men carefully craned their heads around it.

“GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Bell screamed.

Reed and Lowes looked at each other as they carefully scanned the building. Except for a few overturned chairs and tables, it was mostly unchanged.

The exception was the wall where the thump had originated…

Bell strained against the ice as she raged. She was frozen to the wall with thick ice covering the pixie from neck to feet. The only things free were her delicate wings and head. Her eyes blazed as she raged and struggled. She glowed with heat, which strangely was not helping in the slightest.

“What in the world?” Reed asked, fascinated.

“Ah, look here,” Lowes pointed to the delicate markings on the inside of the ice.

“Are those runes on the inside?” Reed peered closer.

“Huh?” Bell craned to see. “I can’t melt it! And! I! Can’t! See!” She growled and hissed. “Describe them to me.”

Reed obliged while Trav seemed to be distracted over by the counter.

“Cheating, little fuck!” Bell snapped when she heard the description. “Chill and Ebb runes,” Bell stopped radiating heat. “Perma-frost.” She grinned. “But if I can’t melt it…” She trailed off and frowned. “Why isn’t my Ringer coming?”

“Ahh, Lady Bell?” Trav called from by the counter. “I think he froze that in place too.”

“BERT!” She screamed at decibels that left both Reed and Lowes dizzy and unsteady on their feet.

“Did someone call me?” Bert stuck his head back into the Bear’s Fall a moment later.

“You little!” Bell seemed too angry to speak.

“And have we learned anything?” Bert grinned at Bell.

“Go fuck Felicia!” Bell snapped and refused to look at him.

“Oooh, low blow,” Bert clutched his chest and pantomimed being mortally wounded.

“This is an overreaction!” Bell snarled.

“That tower nearly flattened me!” He shot back.

They stared at each other in silence for a few minutes.

“Bully,” Bell stuck out her tongue.

“Psycho,” Bert nodded.

They both cracked up, and Bert waved his hand, the runes shattering as the ice dropped away.  They left the Bear’s Fall together, laughing and trying to figure out what to do about the traps.

The three men left behind in the lodge looked at one another in confusion.

“This is a strange place,” Reed said slowly.

“Indeed.” Lowes seconded.

“It is,” Agreed Trav with a huge smile.

“I wonder… Bert mentioned that Scruff had some unusual crops?” Lowes asked Trav. “Could we, perhaps, take a look?”

“If you are not too easily shocked,” Trav shrugged. “I don’t see the problem.”

“How shocking can a Farmer’s fields be?” Reed said with a laugh as they set off for the bridge to Trailer One.

============

The Trap stick broke as a section of wall fell in on top of it. Bert tossed it aside, where it landed on the pile of broken sticks.

“That is insane!” Bell giggled.
“I know, it makes no sense!” Bert sighed in frustration. “There is almost nowhere to step in his entire building that is NOT a trap.”

Bell was silent.

“What?” Bert asked after a moment.

“Never mind, you’ll think it’s stupid,” Bell said.

“I won’t,” Bert said. “I’m completely lost here.”

“What if the towers are the traps?” Bell said. “The whole tower and everything is the trap.”

“That’s… genius,” Bert said.

“You think?” Bell asked suspiciously, waiting for the sarcasm to start.

“Literally, no one would think of that,” Bert said quietly. “This whole place is one giant trap.” Bert gestured to the ruins around them. “No one could ever use these towers, and the traps are built into the walls and floor.”

“So?” Bell asked.

“So they were not installed later; they were built this way from the start.” Bert grinned. “But any idiot like me will just keep trying. Who makes this many traps without something to protect, right?” He pointed at Bell, “Without someone like you, my brilliant little pixie, we would waste hours, if not days trying to find it… and most likely die.”

“You know what this means?” Bell asked excitedly.

“That somewhere out there is someone who thinks just like you?” Bert shivered.

“Yup!” Bell grinned, then froze, “Who isn’t on our side….”

“And may have lined the entire way to the city with traps, just like you would make,” Bert confirmed.

“Fuck!” Bell said, looking around.

“That’s not the scary bit,” Bert said.

“What do you mean?” Bell asked.

“These are old, Bell. They thought like you would do now but were made a long time ago. By now, they are either dead… or much, much better.” Bert shivered.

“Bert?” Bell said quietly.

“Yes, Bell?” Bert said.

“I want to meet them!” Bell giggled. “I want to learn their ways.”

Bert sighed. “I know, Bell. I know.”

“So what do we do?” Bell asked excitedly. “Pick our way through really, really carefully?”

“We could do that,” Bert nodded. “We could. But that could be part of the trap.”

“So what, then?” Bell asked.

“Well, we are a team Bell,” Bert said sagely. “You build the traps… and I break ‘em!”

The only problem with mana-powered vehicles, Bert mused as he got behind the controls of the Hudson Express, was there was no engine to rev. This was a moment that needed a revving engine.

He would just have to do his best….

“Trap this, fuckers!” He growled as he pushed both the levers fully forward. The Express jerked forward, the powerful treads biting deep into the earth as he accelerated toward the nearest ruins.

The Express burst through the wall of the watchtower and kept going out the other side, stone and wood raining down on the metal roof. Bert pulled one of the levers all the way back, making the Express spin in place as the side slammed into the walls, knocking them down and charging toward the next tower. Bert began to laugh as the second tower exploded around the enormous vehicle. This shit was fun! He pulled both levers all the way back, reversing over the remains, and then spun to aim at a cluster of low buildings.

As the Express slammed into the middle of the buildings, stone flying like shrapnel in all directions, Bert spun it again, reversing back and forth to flatten every inch of the ruins. The last building in the first line of ruins fell beneath the tracks, and he whooped out the window.

Forcing his breathing to calm, steadying breaths, Bert pressed the pedal, sending the giant mandibles out the front of the Express. He spent the next few minutes collecting all the scattered, shattered remains of the buildings. He may enjoy knocking them down but would not waste the materials or whatever trap triggers remain. He was a garbage man, after all. Cleaning up shit was what he did.

Moving on to the next line of trapped ruins, he repeated the process with a wide grin as he smashed apart one ruined building after the other. He was beginning to think he had missed his calling in life. Demolition was obviously in his blood.

Of course, controlled demolition was probably not quite as fun. Still, it would not be a bad service to offer as the Waystation toured this world.

As he moved across to the final watchtower, the Express jerked to the side, one track falling briefly into a larger pit. The other tracks held their grip, and the track tore up the hole's edge for a second before it bit in and climbed out.

Bert cackled and whooped. Heavy Machinery, it was the fucking shit!

The Express rolled right on through the remaining towers and ruins, and Bert once again forced himself to be calm. He collected the remaining materials as he kept an eye out for any more traps. He found and collapsed three more giant pits. They were huge pits compared to horses and riders, but to the Express, they were merely potholes on a road of destruction he was enjoying way too much to stop.

Bert looked ahead and drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. The last of the ruins was gone, its materials scoured and safely in the dimensional storage of the Express. Beyond where the last wall had fallen was a stretch of clear ground before the usual rockfalls and overgrown trees began again.

It was the open ground that looked so inviting compared to the trap-filled buildings that he had ‘bypassed’ that bothered him. It looked way too inviting.

He was considering what to do when a knock on his window made him jump out of his skin. A grinning skull with glowing eye sockets stared at him.

“Fuck sake,” Bert laughed. “Scared the shit out of me.” He said as he opened the door.

“Sorry, Boss.” Bud chuckled. “I just wanted to ask if anything was wrong; you’ve been sitting here a while.”

“You see that open stretch of grass there?” Bert pointed ahead.

“You mean the suspiciously open bit?” Bud said with a smile in his voice.

“That’s the one,” Bert confirmed. “I’m not sure I want to just drive the Express onto it,” He patted the dash. “Can’t take any chances with my new baby here.”

Bud cocked his head, “Baby? Is this like your rope fetish?” He asked.

“I don’t have a rope fetish!” Bert growled.

“Uh huh,” Bud shrugged. “Why not just shoot it instead of driving on it?”

“Bud, I like the way you think.” Bert grinned. “Care to do the honors?” He pointed up at the ballista.

“Sure, Boss.” Bud climbed up.

“Put a few bolts in the middle, spread out in a line!” Bert called up to him.

The first giant ballista bolt shuddered into the dead center of the open space.

Nothing.

The second landed a few meters to the left.

Nothing.

The third a few meters to the right.

Nothing.

Bert was just beginning to think he had been wrong when the fourth bolt went clear through the ground. He sat forward and watched the next two bolts disappear as well. As the seventh bolt fell, a trembling began across the ground.

A moment later, the entire section of the floor fell.

Three meters down, it stopped; a thick, foul-smelling liquid seeped through a series of holes in the ground. Some were ones they had made, but most weren't.

Bud reappeared upside down at the window.

“Good Call, Boss!”

===========

It hadn’t taken long for the Waystation to fill in the gap left by the enormous pit trap. After clearing a mile or more of trees and finding nothing else, the crew retired for the day as night began to fall. They would reach the city's walls tomorrow, and everyone wanted to be rested and ready for whatever awaited them.

Bert cooked some venison on a giant grill outside the tower, and everyone dug in with gusto. It was a brilliant night full of stars, and they all stared up at an aurora above the gorge they were passing through.

They all began to frown and exchanged looks as the aurora started settling into the gorge.

Bert and Bell raced for the tower and rode the platform up as the others waited below. They looked out the massive windows of the control tower and watched the approaching glow.

“Is it some kind of spell?” Bert asked nervously. He remembered his conversations with Lowes and Reed about deadly spells.

“No, there is not much magic in it; it almost seems like….” She flew up to the window and strained, trying to see further. “Is that something moving?” She asked Bert.

Bert strained his eyes up, seeing the same movement she had noted. His perception stat saved them as his Analyze pinged on one of the shifting forms.

Spirit Jelly -

A sky-bound relative of the Jelly Fish, they are drawn to areas where

A large amount of death has occurred.

Swarm Creature

Feeds on Life Essence

“Fuck!” Bert swore and dashed for the platform, Bell fluttering next to him

“What is it?” Bell asked.

“Spirit Jelly Swarm,” Bert said grimly.

Bell said nothing, silently summoning a shield around herself.

“Are you going to be okay?” Bert asked.

“No, they kill things my size with a single touch,” Bell said nervously. “Take care of Way Way if you survive, okay?”

“Stay in the tower. Seal the floor with the platform.” Bert said as he summoned his shield and changed his hand into a crossbow.

“But,” She started.

“Bell, it just makes sense.” Bert smiled at her. “If I die, I get to see my wife. It’s not exactly a bad thing.”

Bell nodded silently as he stepped off the platform.

He watched the platform rise, ensuring she stayed on it all the way up.

“Everyone, get into cover and shoot anything that moves!” Bert strode out the door from the tower. The others stared at him in shock. “Move, now!” Bert pointed up at the slowly approaching swarm. “They feed on life essence, don’t let them touch you.”

The group scrambled, Bud and the orcs heading for the Gatehouse as Trav dashed for the Lodge with Reed and Lowes. Scruff ran for the bridge to Trailer One as he called her back. She ignored him and kept going.

Bert swore as he watched her vanish over the bridge.

Connecting to the Waystation, he raised a platform under his feet and pushed it higher until he stood above everything but the tower. The Waystation began to pump out bolts at his feet as he swept his hand back and forth, loading them into his own storge. There was no way they had enough ammo for this, but he had to try.

The swarm slowly dropped toward the Waystation as Bert watched. It was eerily slow and quiet, not hurrying or threatening. The really powerful things never needed to bother with threats.

He thought furiously as they began to come into range. He had to get creative here if he wanted the Waystation to survive, let alone the people on it.

They were in range.

Bert fired the first bolt; the heat rune made it glow as it passed into the swarm; three jellies fell from the throng. Three down, thousands to go.

Bert fired as fast as he could, forcing the bolts through the loader. The jellies fell like rain, their lights snuffing out as fire or ice consumed them. The swarm began to move toward the threat, flowing toward him as they acknowledged itt.

A pop made him look down.

“Bell, what the fuck!” He growled.

“Calm down, dick.” She rolled her eyes, “I’m a Multi-Bell. She wanted you to know they swarm anything that attacks them. She will do what she can from in the tower.” With that, the Multi-Bell dispersed into smoke.

The swarm moved closer. Bert kept firing as more and more flocked towards him. A cry click shook him from his firing. Out of ammo.

Bert looked up as the swarm finally began to reach him.

Bert began to glow as he smiled grimly.

It had been a good run… and this, this was a good way to go.

But he would make them pay with everything he had before he went.

Bert slammed his ice-frosted shield into a cluster of Jellies as they reached for him. They shattered on impact as his fire-covered hammer swung, taking another out of the air. The Turn rune rotated above his head, creating a vortex that tore apart the jellies that tried to drop from above even as it began to suck even more of the creatures towards him.

Mana flowed into and out of his body like an electric tide as he moved, dancing across the platform and back as he fought. More and more of the jellies began to close around him.

“Men of Harlech, march to glory.” Bert sang as he danced amongst the jellies, “Victory is hovering o’er ye,” He slammed his boot down on a reaching tendril as his legs crusted with a layer of ice. “Bright-eyed freedom stands….” The song rang out over the sounds of battle as hit after hit; he fought the endless storm. His breath was ragged as he fought without a break.

No one is perfect, especially not him, and slowly he began to find less room to move as he tired. The swarm pressed in around him as he fought to hold on. The lyrics flowed as he continued to fight with everything he had. His mana channels burned as he summoned one rune after another, fighting for every inch of space.

“Welshman never yield!” Bert road the last line as he fell back, now in the center of a slowly closing dome of the Jellies.

An explosion tore open the wall of flesh beside him.

Two men dove in through the gap and rolled up, their backs pressed against his.

“Stiring song that!” Reed said easily as his saber flashed in a wall of steel.

“Indeed!” Lowes replied as his daggers wove a net of death.

“Thanks,” Bert growled as he fought on. Blood was seeping from just about everywhere as he moved; bright red slashes and yellowish bruises covered his body.

No one spoke anymore as they fought, their every breath used in pursuit of survival. Explosions echoed through the mass occasionally, but that was all the news they got from outside the writhing mass of jellies pressing in around them.

“Seems this is it,” Lowes gasped as he fought on.

“Afraid so,” Reed agreed.

“Yup,” Bert snarled as another group of Jellies fell.

“One more round of that song?” Reed said. “I rather enjoyed it.”

“I think I remember the words well enough,” Lowes agreed.

“One three… one, two, three!” Bert said.

“Men of Harlech, march to glory!” The three men roared and pushed the last of their reserves of mana and stamina into a final struggle. As the song rang out through the mass of jellies once more, echoes formed, making it seem to come from everywhere. Bert heard a new voice join the choir as he fought his last. A glistening form of light and shadow appeared between the three men. The soft feminine voice was one he knew well.

“Hill and valley shaking!” Gwen’s voice rang out, the glow spreading to the three fighters, “Till the sound spreads wide around!” Their aching muscles found new strength as energy poured into them. Time seemed to slow as the three men moved in a blur, forcing back the enemy on all sides.

“Our land to foes denying!” Her voice carried over the sound of battle as other voices joined in, as the first breaks in the jellies showed. Clear skies began to show through the gaps as they fought on.

As the final line once more echoed across the Waystation, the last of the jellies fell. Looking around, Bert saw a few struggling up into the sky, fleeing.

Turning to look behind him at last, he saw Gwen smile and fade away.

“Who was that?” Reed asked breathlessly.

“My wife,” Bert said as tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Thoroughly charming woman!” Lowes said.

“And a perfect sense of timing,” Reed noted.

“Looking forward to meeting her,” Lowes added.

“Could be difficult,” Bert sighed, “She’s dead.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem to stop her.” Reed said, “Damn remarkable lady.”

“Indeed.” Lowes fell on his back and breathed a sigh. “Damn remarkable.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Bert smiled.

The following day found the Waystation quiet and still. The only sounds were faint snores coming from here and there. After a long night of fighting, everyone was sleeping in.

Or almost everyone.

Scruff sat and focused on her latest creation. The seed was pale, clear, and appeared to be made of jelly. She had only managed to make a single seed. But that was enough to start with.

Scruff gently placed the seed in the pot and patted the soil down gently. After some careful thought, she added some water and a little blood.

She closed her eyes for a minute and concentrated, pouring life energy into the pot.

She opened her eyes and smiled down at the pot in her lap.

“Hello there, little one. What shall we call you?”