"Gale, can you come down? We need you at the cafeteria area," Rachel shouted from the base of the tree.
He kept his eyes shut, back against the tree bark. No sleep came after yesterday's mess. John's face kept showing up in his mind. The hole in his chest. His lifeless body.
"I know you're awake up there," Rachel called again. "Don't make me climb up."
Gale opened one eye. Breath of the Void fed him what awaited him. Rachel with her hands on her hips below. He shut his eye. Whatever she wanted could wait.
"Fine. I'm coming up."
Gale sat up quickly, bones aching from lying down for too long on the hardwood of the branch. He grabbed his spears. Exactly 5 and one in hand. He jumped down, kicking at the trunk before hitting the ground to decrease his downward momentum.
"What?" he said, not expecting his voice to sound so rough.
Rachel smiled at him. Dark circles showed under her eyes. She looked like she had gotten as much sleep as he did.
"Come with me. Please."
She walked to camp without waiting for him. Gale followed a few steps behind. He rolled his shoulder, still sore and stiff from yesterday's combat against the monstrosity.
Gale and Rachel reached the dining area's table. People sat around. More than usual. A child asked her mom where the fruits were. There were none. Unsure what this was all about, everyone looked up when Gale walked in.
Rachel got on one of the benches. "Everyone's here. Good."
She looked at the small crowd.
"Yesterday was hard. We lost someone. But we're still here because of choices people made." She looked at Gale in the crowd. "I want to talk about those choices and remind ourselves what we're here for."
Gale's stomach turned. He knew what was coming. He stepped back, but Rachel's voice stopped him.
"Annett," Rachel said, turning to the girl, the tallest of the whole group. "Do you think Gale did anything wrong yesterday?"
Annett stood up. She looked around, then at Gale, wearing a different kind of seriousness he hasn't seen before from her.
"No," she said. "He fought better than any of us. Without him, we'd all be dead."
Ambient chatter spread through the group while others remained quiet and watched the scene.
Rachel turned to Ollie next. "What about you?"
"Hey, I know why we're here. I was ready to die out there. We all were. That's what it means to be part of this. Nobody forced John to come. He chose to fight." Ollie said.
A woman spoke up from the back. "John knew the risks."
"He had a family to get back to," another spoke up. "But he chose to help us anyway."
Rachel nodded. She looked around until she saw a small girl sitting by her mother. The kid couldn't be more than ten.
"Hey, sweetie," Rachel said, softer now. "Are you scared?"
The little girl looked at her mother, then back at Rachel. She shook her head.
"As long as I'm with mom, I won't be scared. No matter what happens."
The woman pulled the child closer, wrapping both arms around her. The kid sank into the hug.
Rachel raised her voice with more chest. "How does everyone feel about Gale? Is he part of us or not?"
Silence fell. Gale felt every eye on him. His chest tightened. His hand got sweaty where he held his spear.
A man in the back stood up. Gale knew his face but not his name.
"He's our little demon," the man said with a grin. "Didn't someone say he was a nightmare demon?"
"A nightmare demon on our side sounds kinda nice," an older man commented.
Tired smiles went all around the table while looking at Gale. He felt his heart tighten. The deafening silence of their smiles were too much. Everyone stared at him like they expected something from him. Like he should say or do or be something he wasn't.
Run, Gale. There were too many eyes. Every part of him told him to get out, find somewhere quiet. But his feet stayed put. Part of him pulled at him to stay, to be something greater to this group of people.
Run or stay. Be alone and never be hurt again or take the risk. It's always these two goddamned feelings that just didn't want to stay down ever since he met her.
Without a word, he turned from the crowd. His shoulders hunched as he walked. He half expected Rachel to grab his arm, to stop him like before.
He heard her soft voice from where she stood.
"It's okay. We can see you later." Rachel said.
Gale ran. He hit his tree at full speed, climbing faster than ever. Branches hit his face. Bark scraped his hands. He didn't stop until he reached his platform.
He fell onto his sleeping bag, breathing hard. Camp sounds came from below. Ambient noise of working around the clock and distant chatter.
The fight yesterday was simple. See threat, kill threat, live. Clean and clear. This was different. Messier. Scarier.
Forest beasts he could handle. They followed rules. Attack or be attacked. Kill or be killed. Simple.
People were tricky. They wanted things from him he couldn't give. They looked at him like he was special.
I'm not special.
What would happen when he let them down? What if he wasn't strong enough, fast enough, smart enough like yesterday when John fucking died? He'd have to see them lifeless on the forest ground.
His hands shook as he gripped his sleeping bag. Being alone was easier. Safer. He couldn't disappoint anyone by himself. Couldn't watch them get torn apart while he just stood there.
But Rachel's words stuck in his head. The way the little girl looked at her mother. The trust in everyone's faces when they looked at him.
They wanted him to join something bigger. Something more than just staying alive day to day. The idea scared him more than any monster in the forest.
In the trees, he knew the rules. Fight or die. Hunt or starve. Move or get caught. Build or be exposed. There were hundreds of these binary decisions.
With people, he had no map, no guide, nothing to follow. Just the scary unknown of caring about someone else.
Gale hugged his knees to his chest and stared at the forest. A beast howled somewhere far away. The sound felt familiar, almost comforting. At least he understood monsters.
Letting others in, becoming part of something bigger than himself, felt more dangerous than any predator in these woods.
Gale stood up, then shook his head. There was no time to wallow in his own thoughts. Every second counted when it came to survival.
He stared at the forest predator's bones. Weapons. That's what he needed. Everything had a use and everything must be used.
Gale dropped down into a cross legged position, setting the thigh bone onto his lap. He grabbed the bone knife, carefully supporting the back of the flat edge with his index finger. Slowly, he shaped the bone, carving it to the shape in his mind.
Shavings dropped onto his lap. His hand moved into a rhythm from edge to edge as he swiped along the bone. The new found strength he got from the Dainv OS gave him strength and endurance that would have saved hours of sleep when his dad made him do this exercise. Each cut of the knife got him closer to his goal, and a bone sabre quickly took shape.
Images of the fight with the seven legged creature replayed back in his mind. Its strikes were fast. His only option was stabbing. The spears he'd made would've broken in half easily if he had swiped at the creature. He needed something more flexible. A blade or a sword could've slashed against the long limbs of the creature.
Next, he took the forest predator's leather, wrapping it with tight leather strings against where the sabre would meet. Then, the bone pegs slotted into three different places to form the hilt. It was ready.
Gale held onto the sabre. It felt good. He ran his thumb along the edge. Its sharpness ran a thin line on his thumb, causing blood to drip. He tested its balance, swinging it against the air. The whistle of the blade made him smile.
It was after he finished the sabre that the smell hit him. He'd forgotten about the food he stored. Too busy mingling with people. A mistake that would've gotten him multiple scoldings from mom and dad.
The smokers didn't come with him to this new place. He needed to craft more.
He dropped down on to the forest floor, grabbing as many sturdy sticks as he could to be used for the frame. Then the thinner sticks for the racks. Last ingredient was the leaves and vines to put it all together.
The first smoker went up quickly. He put it where the wind would hit it right, not too close to where he slept. Then he started the next one as quickly as the blink of an eye. Would the people at the camp want one too? They didn't have any preservation methods. However, the thought of thinking about others surprised him. They weren't his problems. He wouldn't care if they starved. Maybe. As long as he didn't see them.
Next step to survival was to hunt. The new bone sabre went on his hip. He checked his spears, making sure each tip was sharp, putting four on his back. The routine calmed him down, pushing away thoughts of the camp.
Gale glanced back at the camp. Rachel stood at the edge of the opening, watching him. Their eyes met for a second, then he turned away.
He dove deep into the forest. The trees and the familiar scent of decayed flesh and urine felt like home. A simple one.
Rushing through the brush and between the trees, he looked for tracks while moving. He saw broken twigs and a foot print. It led to a trail. Claw marks on the tree. Judging from the size of the marks, it was a small forest beast. Not the biggest he'd seen. But meat was meat.
Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Heart rate spiking up. This is what he needed. A challenge with a clear goal.
He followed the trail, moving like a predator on the hunt. No need for socializing. No need for awkward conversations. He just needed to stab and/or swing.
He crouched into the brush when something touched the tip of his senses. A growl broke the quiet he'd been keeping. Ahead, partly hidden by the vegetation, he saw fur mixed with patches of leather. The edge of its claws glimmered slightly. It hadn't sensed him yet.
Gale put his right hand on the hilt of his sabre. This was it. The first test of the new weapon. He crouched lower, compressing his whole body into a spring.
The forest beast turned his way.
Distort activated around Gale's form. Light refracted. Snap. The coil that was his body launched against the forest beast.
The forest beast swung. Missed.
Gale swung the sabre as he flew. It hit the beast's leg, blood spraying out.
The forest beast's eyes got big as Gale's form shifted and blurred. Confusion showed on its face, giving Gale the second he needed. He jumped forward, moving fast.
The creature's big paw missed where Gale had just been. Its angry roar echoed through the trees, but Gale didn't care. He was already turning, the bone saber cutting through the air.
Crunch.
The beast's leg gave out. Its leg hanging by thin fibres of muscle. It thrashed and swung again at Gale, but he was already far enough, circling the beast.
He felt the rush of energy in his blood, the kind that didn't need thinking about anything else. The world seemed to slow down, each loud heartbeat pushing his thoughts away.
The beast's eyes locked on Gale. It charged on its three good legs, desperation driving it forward.
Gale didn't wait. He stepped into the charge, ducking under the creature's big head. The bone saber slashed in three quick swings.
The forest beast's speed carried it past Gale, its roar turning into a whine. It crashed down, leaves and dirt flying up around it.
Gale spun, saber ready. The beast lay still.
He walked up to it. The bone saber cut through the air one last time, slicing through skin, muscle, and bone easily.
The beast's head rolled away, stopping against tree roots. Its body twitched once, twice, then stopped.
[Extracting Origin from prey…]
Gale stood over his kill, breathing hard. Blood dripped from his saber's tip. The warmth from the extraction wasn't as strong as before. Each time it went up an integer, the core density had become harder to increase.
He took a moment to enjoy the win, to feel the power rush that came with a good hunt. But just a moment. In this forest, staying still meant dying.
As if to prove it, a screech cut through the air from far away. Gale's head snapped up, eyes checking the trees above. The sound came from far off, but distance didn't mean much here.
He needed to work fast.
Kneeling by the beast's body, Gale started the familiar job of harvesting. His knife moved quickly, separating meat from bone and guts.
Gale pulled out two empty bags from his back. The forest beast's parts lay in front of him.
One bag got filled with meat, still warm and bloody. The other got the bones.
Another screech hit the air, putting him on edge. He worked faster, knowing something could jump out and steal his prey anytime.
Gale looked around before lifting up the bags to his shoulder. He headed back through the brush, knowing exactly where he came from. Then he found the outer perimeter of the traps he had set around the encampment. Each one with a mark that said "TRAP".
The bones weren't just for him this time. He pictured the camp, the faces of the people who now looked to him for protection. They posed a different kind of weight than the bags he carried now.
Soon enough, he got to his base, pushing away the stupid complex thoughts. He went straight to the smokers, dumping the meat from its bag. His hands went on auto-mode. Cutting the meat then racking it.
Meat was done. Bones were next.
He spread out the bones, looking at the size of each one. He organized them from big to small. Each size had its own purpose, no matter how small.
Spears were the best option. It would take an idiot of another level to mess up knowing how to use a spear. They even used peasants back then in the history of Earth as spearmen. Gale wondered what would the idiot look like who couldn't even wield one.
Task set. His hands again went on auto mode, crafting each spear to the same liking as the previous.
John's spear wouldn't have blocked the strike. This could probably had some defence against it, Gale thought.
He could arm Annett and Ollie with better gear too. Ollie would eventually run out of ammo. Maybe. Annett could definitely use it to replace the crude spear she had.
Gale then imagined Rachel throwing a spear engulfed in fire. That was something straight out of the fantasy books he read. That'd be cool to see.
He shook his head, trying to push away the mixed feelings. He focused on making spears, losing himself in the work. The pile of finished spears grew. Each one was strong and much sturdier and sharper and better and cooler than the spears they had in the camp.
Suddenly, a rustle in the bushes behind him snapped his focus. Rachel stepped into his tree home.