Chapter 22: Crossing

Standing at the edge of the trench, I stared down at the pile of bodies that would serve as my stairway. In the flickering light of the torch, the eyes of the dead gleamed as if alive and seemed to stare at me accusingly for violating their remains.

I shivered involuntarily. That’s just meat, I told myself. The spirits that housed them are long since fled. Unsurprisingly, my words did little to alleviate my trepidation. Somehow walking on the dead seemed a greater desecration than carrying them.

Gnat peered around me to study the fruits of my labor. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Think this plan of yours will work?”

“It better,” I replied grimly, trying not to imagine what failure would mean. Holding the torch high above my head with my right hand, I placed one foot tentatively onto the mound of dead and tested my footing. The pile did not so much as shift under my feet.

Feeling more confident, I stepped fully onto the mound. The corpse deflated as my weight squeezed its insides out, spurting blood and offal. I swayed and felt my feet begin to slip beneath me.

Fighting the urge to panic, I windmilled my arms frantically to regain my balance. The corpse beneath me settled and I found firm purchase again. I heaved a sigh of relief. “Phew,” I muttered, “that was too close.”

I glanced down at the pile of dead, realizing that while the mound looked stable, it would shift and move under my weight. I would have to be wary of my footing. The smell, of course, was awful too, but after hauling around corpse after corpse, I had grown accustomed to the stench of the dead and it didn’t bother me as much as it should have.

Bending my knees, I lowered my center of mass to better balance on the precarious mound. I took a careful step down the slope. Then waited. The corpse underfoot shifted slightly before settling.

I took another step, making sure to spread my feet and place my second foot on another corpse to keep my weight distributed. I waited. The mound did not move. My footing was secure. Continuing my crab walk, I made my way down the slope.

Not so hard, after—

Landing on something wet and slippery, my right foot shot out from under me. Before I could even think to regain my balance, I fell.

My head and rear shot back, thumping against the mound of corpses before sliding down the slope at an ever-accelerating pace. I flung my left arm outwards and tried to slow my fall, not caring what I grabbed onto. My right hand still held the torch aloft. Keeping it burning was my first concern and I dared not abandon it.

Realizing there was no stopping my plunge now, I swung my head forward and found myself staring at the sharpened end of a stake.

Bloody hell!

I wrenched myself right and avoided being impaled, but I wasn’t able to completely throw my body out of the way. Pain—a throbbing white-hot sensation—tore through my mind as the stake punctured through my left hand. I jerked to a halt, my skewered hand acting as unwitting anchor.

A wooden stake has critically injured you!

The torch went flying and disappeared from my sight. I had no attention to spare it though. Anguish consumed my world. I bit of a scream. Even in the throes of agony, I retained enough presence of mind to know I didn’t dare scream. Anything could be lying in wait beyond the trench.

Momentum dragged me around in a half circle and my feet brushed up against other wooden stakes. Thankfully, it was against their rough-cut sides and not their pointed tips.

I slowed to a halt, still dangling from the stake that had skewered me. “Gnat,” I gasped, my breath heaving as I struggled to think around the pain.

“Here, Michael,” my familiar said from somewhere above.

“Can you see the torch?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “It’s still burning.”

Good, I thought. I can still survive this disaster. “Where am I Gnat?”

“You’re almost at the bottom,” he said. “Your feet are inches from the ground.”

Better yet. Straining against the pain, I finally looked at the stake pinning me down. The sharpened end had gone straight through the center of my palm, ripping apart skin and tendons, and exposing bent and broken bones. Just looking at my damaged hand caused me to go weak the knees.

Get it together, Michael. You have to free myself, and quickly. Likely upended, the torch wouldn’t keep burning forever. I gritted my teeth and slapped my right hand around the stake for leverage.

Then I pulled my left-hand outwards.

My mind went blank with pain, and I nearly passed out. Clinging desperately to consciousness, I slowly drew my skewered hand off the stake. “God, that hurts,” I moaned softly, but didn’t stop yanking on my hand. At least a foot length of stake had buried itself through me. After a torturous and seemingly never-ending few seconds, my left hand came free.

Your left hand is crippled. Your left hand is bleeding. Ongoing damage sustained. Your health is at 70% and dropping.

I released the stake from the white-knuckled grip of my right hand and dropped the short distance to the floor of the trench. “Gnat,” I growled, cradling my damaged hand, “where is my bag?”

“Still on your back.”

With my one good hand, I somehow managed to open the pack. Finding my last healing potion, I un-stoppered it with my teeth and gulped down its contents.

Closing my eyes, I sighed as my left hand first went numb, then tingled with soothing waves as rended flesh and bone were magically mended.

You have restored yourself with a full healing potion. You are no longer crippled. Your health is now at 100%.

I opened my eyes, still high on euphoria from the healing. All I wanted to do was sag in relief, but I knew I didn’t have that luxury. My gaze darted left and right, searching for the dropped torch.

It was two yards to my right and still burning. Measuring the ground between, I carefully stepped around the stakes and picked it up.

You have acquired a torch. This item has sufficient fuel to last six minutes.

The greater part of the torch’s oil reserve was spilled and lost. But a smidgen still remained. Enough for six minutes more of light. Ample time to navigate the trench and climb out, I thought.

Then you can rest, I promised myself. Gathering myself, I set about it.