15 – An Interrupted al
Lucy frowned at the steep trail leading up into the narrow canyon. Was canyon the right word? Maybe it was too narrow to be considered a canyon; maybe it was a ravine. She laughed softly, just a huff of breath, really, as she was trying to be stealthy. It was funny to her how her mind, absent other people to talk to, went to the strangest places. Whatever she called it—canyon or ravine—it was deep in the Santa Ritas, and she was a long way from ho.
She squinted back the way she’d co, but there was no clear view past the mountain’s shoulder. Even so, she knew Tucson was long out of sight. How far had she co? Fifty miles? Sixty? The sun was high, and the air was humid. It had rained the night before, a quick downpour that had soaked the ground and given the plant-life a fresh burst of color when the sun rose the next morning. Everything was green, and despite the late sumr season, the cacti were in bloom.
As a case in point, a barrel cactus on the ravine wall to her right, clinging to a stony shelf of dirt, tempted her with brilliant, almost waxy-looking orange blossoms. She wanted to give them a sniff, but sothing about the cactus’s too-long spines, quivering in the faint breeze, made her keep her distance.
It was far from the first bit of flora she’d noticed changes in. The trees were bigger, the clusters of scrub grass were taller, and most of the cacti were like the barrel cactus—more dangerous looking. That was besides the fact that things were just greener. The Sonoran Desert certainly could look green during the rainy season, but this was different; the dry, sandy, rocky sections of desert were smaller and the plant-life more plentiful.
In one regard, the change in climate made her hunt easier; her quarry left deeper, more visible tracks when it landed, and her efforts to climb into the Santa Rita Mountains were certainly easier without having to deal with the usual brutally dry, hot climate. Nonetheless, it made her wonder how the change would affect things long-term. Would the cacti continue to thrive with more water in the air and ground, or would competing species of plant-life take root and change things entirely? It was sothing she was looking forward to talking about with Violet when she returned.
She almost stumbled on a loose rock, and as she caught her balance, looking down to her right, Lucy was surprised to see how high she’d co. Wiping so sweat from her brow, she paused to take a drink from her canteen and resolved to be more careful. A fall like that, alone in the mountains, wouldn’t be good.
“Alone,” she sighed, thinking of Andy and the others back at the sa. She hadn’t thought she’d miss them so quickly—especially Andy. Not that she didn’t like him or care about him, but if she were honest with herself, Lucy had to admit she was worried about how she’d handle having a relationship like that. She’d never been the kind of girl who needed a boyfriend. She’d never even wanted one until well into high school. Middle school? All she could recall was being irritated with her friends for being boy crazy.
As she started climbing again, she reflected on the boyfriends she’d had, none of whom had ever amounted to anything serious. In her experience, the boys—young n? No, definitely boys—in college had all pretty much wanted one thing, and to her, it had always been a distraction from her sport. The only reason she’d enrolled at the U had been for archery, after all. Andy was different, though.
Lucy’s lips curled into a smile as she followed a switchback in the rough trail she was climbing. Her mind drifted to how Andy was always willing to joke around, but quick to be serious when the need arose. When she thought about other “strong” people they’d run into in the last few weeks—the n from Construction City, the “Whistler” and his pals—Andy seed so at odds with them, personality-wise, that it seed almost crazy to her how strong he was.
It really felt like the trailer park had lucked out when it ca to the kinds of characters who’d survived there. Andy, Omar, Bea, Tucker, Ed, Violet, Bernice—there were so many good people there that Lucy had trouble thinking of any bad ones. It was like so twist of fate had brought together just the right sorts of people, the kind you wanted to have around you when you survived.
Even the folks they’d recruited since then seed good. Lucy’s smile broadened as she thought about how Bella had adopted Bea as her surrogate…what? Mother? Grandmother? The way Bea was aging backwards, big sister might be more appropriate—
A voice echoed through the ravine—masculine and scratchy—and Lucy imdiately squatted down, hugging the slope as she put her fingers on her bowstring. She scanned ahead, but didn’t see anything. The voice had been indistinct, and she hadn’t picked up any words, but it had definitely been a voice. She was sure she wasn’t hearing things.
She contemplated turning around. Lucy didn’t want to run into more people—not while she had the hunt to complete, and not while she was alone. As she’d just been thinking, being a good survivor didn’t equate to being a good person, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to chance eting so more people like Brooks and his crew. While she vacillated, she heard the voice again, but this ti sothing about it made her tilt her head, no longer so sure she was hearing a person—at least not a human person.
Nervous energy made her look at her status sheet, as though seeing her attributes and skills might bolster her confidence:
Na: Lucy Huff
Species: Human
Active Class: Monster Hunter
Level: 25
You could be reading stolen content. Head to for the genuine story.
Inactive Classes:
Unclassed (2)
Experience toward next level: 491%
Mana: 125/125
Perception: 8
Will: 8
Strength: 6
Vitality: 7
Speed: 7
Improvent Points: 5
Notable Skills or Spells:
Butcher’s Insight: 1
Tracking: 6
Bows: 7
Spears: 1
Short Blades: 3
Critical Mastery: 4
Hunter’s Senses: 3
Field Dressing: 2
Double Arrow: 2
Proof of the Hunt: 2
Favored Enemies:
Gigantic Fauna
Vermin
Notable Distinctions:
Archer’s Grace
Longshot Defender
She looked at her pool of unspent Improvent Points and couldn’t decide whether to smile or grimace; she wanted to spend them, but she also wanted to break her attribute ceilings—especially Speed. Ever since Andy found that Codex entry of his, things had been a little less cut and dry.
Still, as usual, seeing her Bows ranking and rembering what she could do with her magical weapon gave her confidence, and she decided to investigate. She pulled her hood up, trusting in the cloak’s magic to make it hard to notice her, and then crept forward, careful to avoid scuffing her feet against any loose stones. When she rounded the next curve in the ravine, she froze, taking in the scene unfolding not fifty yards from where she stood.
Two large humanoids—but definitely not human—stood face to face on the trail. Both had grayish-green skin, and both were completely nude. Their features were decidedly ugly—long, growth-covered noses; huge, protruding ears; bony chins dotted with wiry black hairs; protruding yellow teeth; and tufts of greasy hair. Their arms and legs were ungainly, and the one whose backside faced Lucy had a belly that sagged to his knees. The other was taller and skeletally thin, though his stomach, too, protruded, like he’d just drunk five gallons of liquid.
They were grumbling to each other, using words that Lucy’s brain couldn’t comprehend. Their voices scratched and coughed as much as they ford consonants and vowels. As they argued—for it was clear from their posture that’s what they were doing—the taller monster held up a burlap sack that wriggled and writhed, and from which a strangled cry erged, “…please!”
Lucy’s eyes shot wide as the shorter, fatter monster swatted the sack with a heavy, four-fingered, long-clawed hand, knocking it from the tall one’s grasp and silencing the poor creature inside. Watching it fall to the stony trail with a thud and imagining herself in that situation, she decided she’d seen enough.
She stood tall, lifted her bow, and drew the string back in a fluid motion. As she released the bowstring, she instantly cast Double Arrow. The two fiery missiles were halfway to their target before the taller monster saw Lucy and the incoming projectiles. His big yellow eyes flew wide, and he barked a warning, but his partner didn’t react quickly enough. Both of Lucy’s arrows pounded into his back, and, to her amazent, the flas from those fiery barbs spread.
The monster scread, lifted his hands in the air, and danced in a panic, knees high, enormous belly flopping and jiggling. anwhile, Lucy drew her bow back again and repeated the process, aiming past the burning monster’s head toward the chest of the other one. Her target wasn’t standing still, though, and incredibly, he shoved his partner off the trail. The fat monster fell, bouncing and trailing embers and smoke, screaming his way down to the bottom of the ravine. He hit with a crunch that took a full second to reach Lucy’s ears.
Her arrows had missed their mark, soaring past the taller monster to smash into the ravine wall in showers of embers. Lucy was sure she would have created more than one brushfire if things weren’t so green and damp from the rain. She couldn’t think about that, though—the monster was charging her with murder in his eyes.
She wasn’t nearly as quick as Andy, but she could shoot her bow fast—especially since she didn’t have to load any arrows. Her mana was limited, though, and it cost her a little to pri those fire arrows, so she stopped casting Double Arrow as she drew and fired three more tis. Her target didn’t have anywhere to hide. He tried to twist, to leap, to duck, but Lucy’s arrows hit ho—every single one of them.
His roars echoed those of his ill-fated friend, and the fire from her arrows spread just as quickly across his gray-green flesh. His twisted, dark hair went up with a whoomph like a kerosene-soaked rag, and soon he was flailing and dancing, not twenty yards from Lucy’s position. She could hear the fire crackling—or was that his skin and fat cooking? Her stomach lurched at the thought, and she backpedaled, hoping to put so distance between herself and the dying monster.
In seconds, he was on his knees, and she could barely see his shape through the roaring flas. She stood back, scanning the ravine in a slow circle, nervous about the scene she’d created. A large bird of prey flew overhead, but other than that, nothing stirred in either direction. After a while, the flas died down, and the System decided the fight was done:
***Congratulations, Lucy! You’ve slain two trolls, and in the process, you’ve rescued their next al. As a result of your efforts, you’ve gained more experience toward additional levels, but you’ll need to bypass your quest gate before it’s applied.***
Lucy skimd the ssage, then hurried past the smoldering troll, holding her breath as she passed through the haze of black, oily smoke drifting from the corpse. When she reached the sack, she used her knife to slice the cords around the opening, then she pulled it open, revealing a small, unconscious boy. She didn’t think he could have been more than eight years old. Lucy caught her breath at the sight of him. He looked almost sweet, like he’d curled up in the sack to sleep, but then she saw his wounds.
He had a purple goose egg the size of a golf ball on his forehead, and his face was swollen from where the troll had slapped him. Lucy carefully pulled the rest of the sack away, then folded it and tucked it under his head as a makeshift pillow. That done, she scanned the ravine wall, looking for sothing she could use with her Field Dressing spell. She smiled when she saw a little aloe vera plant with plump green leaves growing on a small shelf of dirt.
She lunged for it, just a few steps away, and using her knife, she sliced off one of the leaves. Then she cut the skin away from the inside, revealing the pulpy, sticky stuff at the center. Hurrying back over to the unconscious boy, she scooped so of the pulp onto her knife blade, then she used her fingers to sar it on his wounds. At the sa ti, she concentrated briefly, channeling so of her mana into Field Dressing.
The pulp glowed faintly, stiffening into a sticky mbrane that spread over the boy’s swollen and cut skin. Lucy had used the spell on herself and Andy many tis, and she knew it would be warm and tingle pleasantly. She also knew the swelling would go down rapidly, so she wasn’t surprised when the little boy murmured, blinking his eyes until they fell on her face. The sun was behind her, and he squinted as he tried to focus.
“M-mommy?”
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