Death Smith - Book 1 - Chapter 17

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Graceful hot dogs

Two weeks ago.

February, 14 AR.

Inside Rift 7.

Porters appeared one by one in flashes of black energy, their bodies still giving off sparks as it anchored their bodies to this Rift. Many of the more experienced porters were already on their feet while the others were still kneeling or had fallen over.

Thomas could feel his lungs burn as he finally could breathe again. He shook his head to get rid of his disorientation. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Lance already up on his feet, his higher Perception stat helping him adjust much faster. A moment later, Lance was holding out his hand and checking in with Thomas.

“Are you all right?” Thomas shook his head a final time to get rid of the disorientation before he grabbed the hand that was offered and raised himself up.

“I’m fine,” Thomas said, his eyes and ears now taking in what was happening all around him. The air was thick with the sound of conflict, death, and the unmistakable sound of Rifters using offensive skills.

Thomas could see a line of fighters a short distance away. Those combat tested Rifters had established a perimeter and created improvised barriers or elevated positions from where to shoot. The porters could see a horde of wolf-like monsters rushing towards them, ever since the Rifters had entered this Rift. Many of the fighters were using ranged weapons to keep the horde of monsters at bay and to thin out those that dared to approach the Rifters. Occasionally, a Rifter would throw a cheap Molotov cocktail in a large grouping of monsters, spreading chaos as the flames stretched out across multiple foes.

Arrows, bolts, and daggers were hitting their mark and staining the rocky soil red with gore. It was quite effective, although the sight of an automatic rifle showering the enemy was something else entirely. Even with lower grade gunpowder and ammunition, the bullets still wreaked havoc on soft and unarmoured flesh. When monsters got close enough, a Rifter that specialised in close combat would be there to meet them and would make quick work of them, ripping or smashing with a violence only a higher ranked Rifter could enact.

A fighter stood behind a large stationary weapon. It drew inspiration from the historical ballista used in ancient Greece and Rome, although heavily modernised. It spat out sharpened, thick steel rods in quick succession, hurling them violently towards the incoming monsters. A single rod could impale several creatures if they were behind one another.

After having used up all its ammunition, the operator glanced backwards, seeing the porters that had arrived and the crates that they had brought with them in the Rift. A smile appeared on his face as he pointed at Thomas and Lance before shouting, “Ah, right on time! Lads bring the crates closer. The rest can help with the defensive line!”

Not needing any further encouragement, Thomas and Lance picked up the heavy crate assigned to them and made their way towards the fighter.

This Rift had appeared on a construction site back on Earth, so this part of the Rift bore those remnants. Beyond those remnants, the environment appeared to be an underground cave system with several side passages that would lead to a complex network of tunnels leading into other chambers. Smaller mana stone deposits scattered around the rocky surface added some light in an otherwise dark underground system. The chamber they were in now still contained much of the construction site from home, adding some familiarity for the Rifters. Thick steel beams lay strewn around the place. Old chain-link fences appeared half stuck in the dirt, as well as smaller objects one might find on such a site.

Thomas helped Lance carry the crate towards the smiling Rifter, dropping it near him as they undid the latch. Inside of the crate were large steel canisters that contained sharpened steel rods stacked on top of one another. It was not unlike a pistol magazine, only designed for larger objects.

Lance wasted no time in grabbing a canister, positioning it correctly so that the fighter could quickly slide it inside the contraption. It was moments like these when Lance impressed Thomas the most, resulting in the redhead pondering which one of them was best suited for a life as a Rifter. ‘I might be the better brawler and have a knack for fighting, but Lance is more adaptive. His spreading out his points more evenly makes it easier for him to adjust to a new environment, not to mention quickly spotting how he should position the containers. He always had an affinity for mechanical things, so I suppose this is right up his alley.’

The siege weapon pulled Thomas out of his train of thought when he heard it fire again, spewing forth sharpened steel imbued with the fury and ingenuity of humankind. One of its shots had impaled two monsters and wounded another because of the sheer momentum, not to mention disrupt the enemy advance at seeing a large rod of metal kill several of their numbers in one swoop.

“Hell yeah!” Thomas had no choice yell loudly as he clapped Lance on the shoulder. At that moment, even Lance was quite giddy, seeing the second steel round leave the weapon and imbed itself in the charging monsters.

The fighter wielding the siege weapon simply loaded another rod and armed it as he turned his attention to Lance and Thomas. “I need one of you here to help me with the reloading and changing the magazines. The other one gets to help at the front lines.”

Before Lance had even the chance to discuss who should do what, Thomas suddenly sprinted past the siege weapon and towards where the fighters and other porters had taken up a defensive position. “I owe you one!” Thomas shouted as he put some distance between him and Lance. He knew it was a bit of a nasty move, but Lance would understand, hopefully.

The fighters had taken up a position behind steel beams, old cement bags, and inside improvised trenches. Being flanked was nearly impossible because of intense and constant flames on the left and right. The Rift-leader, Grace, had produced those with one of her flame-based skills.

The wolf-like monsters were quite agile and did occasionally dodge a ranged attack, but only a few of them ever made it near the front line. One wounded monster had made it to Grace. Before it could even attack, Grace had already grabbed its throat and lifted it up high with one arm. An amused grin painted her features when she activated one of her skills.

“Ignite”

Flames rushed out from the palm of Grace’s hand, engulfing the brown fur in a sea of bright red flames. The strength in her digits had already crushed the monster’s neck, so the monster remained limp. More and more heat poured out of it, engulfing the monster until the intensity of the heat undid the monster. In the end, only a pile of ash remained.

Glancing at her sides, she could see the defensive line strengthened by Thomas and the other porters. “Ah, the reinforcements,” Grace said, her as her right gauntlet still glowed red from the intense heat she had produced. She watched the enemy numbers quickly dwindle while her numbers held firm. It wouldn’t be long before they completely routed the enemy or killed them to the last.

Thomas watched her scan the scene, no doubt making mental notes in her mind for after the fight. Grace then began barking orders, instructing Thomas and the other new arrivals to take up specific positions where the chance of a monster breaking through would be low.

Thomas had taken up a position next to a Rifter who was using a bow to pick off those that came close. Ice imbued arrows left the man’s weapon and imbedded themselves within the wolf-like monsters as they exploded in a cold white mist, stunning or slowing other monsters because of the area of effect.

Emboldened by his allies, Thomas gripped the pickaxe firmly in his dominant right hand while relaxing the left. He then concentrated on his inventory before he retrieved the item he had recently purchased from the Workshop in secret. Only his family and Dieter had seen it.

[You have retrieved an item from the inventory.]

A large crude and thick steel shield materialised in his left hand. It was far more than what a normal man might feel comfortable in carrying, but Thomas’ increased strength allowed him to handle it. It wasn’t Rifter made, so there wasn’t anything special about the shield. But a shield did not need those things when it was essentially a solid, thick steel plate. Grabbing it, Thomas held it out in front of him. With both shield and weapon, he felt like a proper fighter standing on the front lines.

The Rifter on his side gave Thomas a thumbs up, approving of his shield. Thomas could feel Lance’s eyes burning a hole in him from a distance, no doubt envious and upset that Thomas had bought his first item in the Workshop without telling his best friend about it.

And that envious expression made Thomas’s recent purchase even more worthwhile.

* * * * *

It had been a few hours since the battle, but already the place looked vastly different. The Rifters had created a sturdy temporary wall from steel beams, dirt, and old bags of concrete mix that they had found half-buried. Although this Rift had only existed for a short while on earth, inside it seemed like many years had passed. There was a lot of rust on the steel beams and decay on the once sturdy bags that held the concrete mix together.

The Rifters had set up a temporary stockpile behind the walls near where they would be sleeping. Nothing would be there permanently, a few days at most until they had scouted out the other tunnels and found the centre of the Rift.

It made sense to establish a more permanent base at the Rift-event itself. Doing so would mean that you had the stockpile close at hand when the Rift would end, allowing you to take with you as many items as you could. R.A.M. was a company first and foremost, so it made sense to maximise profits.

Thomas dropped off the claws, teeth, and Rift-shards he had pulled out from the wolf-like monsters, placing them all in a neat pile. Dirt and dried up blood covered his outfit, tainting his uniform dullish brown. The latter was mostly from harvesting as much from the monsters as he could. He noticed Matt making his way over towards him, carrying a few bits of cooked meat and steel canister with water.

“And how goes it, o brave warrior?” Matt asked, displaying his tribute to Thomas.

“Better than then these mutts. Thanks, Matt,” Thomas said as he wiped his hands clean on his outfit or tried to. Afterwards, the two of them took up a seat on a nearby steel beam and ate. Matt glanced to his right and spotted Lance in the distance, sitting on a pile of old cement bags with his eyes shut, no doubt listening to music.

Smiling, Matt tried to steer the conversation towards Lance. “So, is the misses still upset?”

“Lance? Ah, we are fine. Sure, there is a bit of irritation, but he enjoys spending time by himself. He is probably just in his head again. You know how he can be,” Thomas replied, waving his hand as if to signal that it was indeed fine between the two of them.

“True. Still, from what I heard, it was a bit of jerk-move on your end,” Matt said, waiting for Thomas to explain, only to see the man shrug his shoulders and continue to eat. A few minutes passed before Matt tried once more, only to have Thomas cut him off.

“He’ll be fine. Look,” Thomas said as he grabbed a small pebble and threw it towards Lance, hitting the man’s leg. Thomas waited for Lance to open his eyes and pull out an earbud before Thomas shouted at him.

“Lance! We are cool, right?” He asked, only to receive the middle finger and have Lance ignore him again. Thomas chuckled and shifted his attention back towards Matt. “See, Matt, best of friends. No reason to worry.”

“You guys are weird. So, how much do you reckon we got today?” Matt asked as he shifted his gaze towards the stockpile, seeing thick sheets spread out on the floor, with items stacked on top of it. There were piles of canine teeth, claws, and even their raw pelts. Another pile consisted out of precious Rift-shards while others contained bits of ore that the porters had already mined out and collected. Each porter had shifting duties. Sometimes you had ore duty, other times you had to harvest corpses or assist the fighters in sentry duty.

“Well, not bad for the first day. Enough to fill two or three backpacks. I am not sure what well end up taking with us, but Grace will have to decide on what to prioritise,” Thomas said, sharing his thoughts. When exiting a Rift, the Rifters would bring with them what they carried or held onto. There was only so much inventory space a Rifter had internally because of their system, so most of them carried crates or large backpacks with them. Anything larger than that would not work, so Thomas couldn’t simply hold on to a massive steel beam and end up back on earth with it.

The inventory system was impressive, but there were some obvious limits to them. Rifters could only store and transfer things that were classified as items, so they couldn’t just store a monster corpse or something similar. Harvested things from a monster such as teeth or a pelt would work, as that counted as an item. Some could see this as purely a downside, but it was also efficient. It removed the need to get rid of the gore and blood from a pelt or claw. You simply stored the item and watched as the other bits fell on the ground, no longer attached.

The inventory would allow some items to be stacked together and only take up one slot, such as arrows or bits of ore, to form a larger one. Still, larger items such as a helmet would take up an entire slot. Anything that was heavier than the Rifter himself would take up more slots, but this was rare. Essentially, it became a balancing act between what a Rifter stored internally and what they simply carried around with them.

Matt glanced at the bloodstained outfit Thomas was wearing and shook his head before he said, “Imagine how much easier it would be if we could just store the corpses in our inventory and drop them off back on Earth.”

“Yeah, probably save a ton on dry-cleaning cost. Still, I can’t complain all that much. Skinning a monster, pulling out a few claws or an eye? That still beats the internship I did at the geriatric ward. I’ll take monster blood over your nan’s filled up diaper any day,” Thomas replied, grinning as he noticed Matt simply burst out into laughter.

The rest of the Rifters were relaxing as well. They had blocked most tunnels, and several fighters would be on guard duty. Those that had finished their assignments were busy cooking monster meat, getting their tents ready or simply chatting with one another.

One of the Americans, Connor, had even brought a guitar with him and was busy tuning it before he’d set the mood for their first evening inside this Rift.

If one were to ignore all the blood, gore, and dirt all around them, one might even have assumed that they were friends that were all camping in the wild. The camp had slowly established itself within a few hours, followed by the sounds of laughter, warm food and people who found a connection with one another through shared hardship in this lifestyle they had chosen. Even the foreigners slowly found their place within the group.

Matt finally patted Thomas’s knee as he got up, knowing he had the next guard shift in a few minutes. Still, before he left, he wanted to bring something up. “You are at level nine, right? Did you want to ride this one out and get the level up at the end, or do you want to tag along with a patrol tomorrow? Perhaps a few stragglers might be all you need to reach the next level?”

“Really? That would be awesome,” Thomas said, his eyes betraying his eagerness to reach level ten and finally get his Class.

“Yeah, no worries. I’ll discuss it with Grace later. Bring Lance with you as a peace offer. Because, you sir, are an idiot. Besides, that nice shield of yours needs a few nicks and dents on it. Propper equipment shows of wear and tear,” Matt said before they nodded to one another, with Thomas still grinning like an amused child and Matt sighing as he realised, he’d have to spend the next four hours staring at rocks if nothing exciting were to happen during his guard duty.

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Author: Osirium

Copyright: 2021 OsiriumWrites

Released: 2021