It took everything he had to get everyone to calm down and go to sleep. It had been hard enough, going as long as they did, and another sleepless night would not be conducive to fighting more dinosaurs- if it came to that. It'd be a real joke if their party of hunters, tempered in the fires of battle after battle with creatures many Conservationalists would have been ready to drive to extinction, got wiped out due to sleep deprivation. It was important to rest, but really, even James himself didn't want to sleep. They had been called, and the urge to get up and go was intense. He was pretty sure it wasn't compulsion- the idea that it could be a trap meant to draw them all in was ever-present in the back of his mind- but instead just the idea of the Promised Land that the Midwesters kept going on and on about actually existing.

The floodplains were beautiful. They were an ocean that you could walk through, dotted with little 'islands' of dirt and mud and food and trees. In the real world, it probably would have been a tourist attraction or a protected site, an awe-inspiring example of the oddities that nature could generate. It was an ocean you could wade through, and the creatures within seemed to fit that theme quite nicely. It was dumb luck there hadn't been anything quieter than the water-wolves, or bigger than the Spinosaurus. No amount of spears could save them from a Sarcosuchus in an environment so conducive to its strengths. James got to thinking- and that was the problem. His 'flock' weren't the only ones that needed sleep.

He did think, though. Why were there dinosaurs and unknown creatures mashed together in the same environment? Why had that Spinosaurus seemed so lucid? Would the next enemy they ran into on the way to Home end up killing them all? The questions weighed on his mind, and with every tenuous conclusion or guess he made, the truth seemed to get further away. Whatever this New World was, it wasn't precisely easy to understand. He forced himself to focus instead on what they needed to do tomorrow, on what they might find outside the knee-deep ocean. They were happier thoughts, optimism shining through for the first time in months. With that, he was out like a light.

The moon danced through the sky, falling down the horizon, and the sun chased after it, finally shining through on the other side. It was a new day, and they were all new people, confident that whatever they did, they would make it to their new home. Murmurs of it being a trap or too dangerous or suspicious spread, but quickly one idea unified the group: if it was a lie, they would make it a truth- by force. Still, they hoped it wouldn't come to that. Despite their losses and the constant combat they had seen, they were still human, with emotions, concerns, and a simple desire to have something to trust. James knew that if that was stolen away, then his 'flock-minding' would quickly be made obsolete by their broken hearts, that they would become something other than Eliza, Caleb, or Nathan, shells of their former selves.

Maybe they'd be stronger that way. There was a power to it; he could feel it in the air. When he was sure he was 'Mister Moses', he was stronger, smarter, better- but he wasn't James. That feeling wasn't one he was used to. Throughout his life, he had been many things; most of which were 'lazy' and 'overweight' and 'a nerd', but even when he resolved to fix himself up, it was still an expression of James, the same person he had always been. This place had done something to him. He had an inkling of why it was happening, too- and they said videogames never teach you anything. When he really got in there, absolutely convinced he was the character in that particular VMRG or he felt like the commander in a 3RTS, his performance went overboard. Adrenaline would start pumping, his mindset would change- he would be in 'the zone', and it made him better at the game. Significantly worse at thinking about anything other than the game, too. It was a mindset that took up all of his focus.

That was a rarity at best. The sort of thing people bragged about, where they suddenly get a burst of speed and broke a record in a sprint, or where they wipe out an entire team all alone, or end up being the only person in an entire class to ace a test, because they had dedicated their entire brain to the ordeal. They felt the heartbeat of the track underfoot, ignoring the anguish they put their legs through. Their twitch-reflexes suddenly improved, and everything they had learned about the game they played culminated in predicting where the enemies would be, every shot meeting its mark even as they turned a corner or hopped an obstacle. They dug deep, with their generally flighty memory yanking answer after answer out of past classes or lectures. It was their best self, suited to that one task. Just for a moment, it was their calling, what they were supposed to do, what they were supposed to be. Back on Earth, James had only felt it once or twice, and it awed him each time.

Here? It was different. Every time he was 'Mister Moses', he was 'Mister Moses'. He guided the people, felt their pain, taught and consoled them, and when the time came to protect them, he gave it his all. He had stabbed a Spinosaurus in the hand as it tried to rip his head off, for fuck's sake. That was a lot of things; half of them 'totally awesome', but nowhere on the list was 'something James would do'. He had played his role instead of playing smart, and if he had kept himself together and really thought it over, more people might be alive. It wasn't a one-way street that only made him stronger, or in this case at least made him more personable. It was corrosive, and it scared him. Until he learned the score, the New World would always be dangerous. It was just so easy to slip into that other mode, and it could happen before he was really cognizant of what was happening. Hopefully, the 'Home for Mankind' would have some answers.

They made good time. It was the fastest they had gone in a while- everyone was working hard at walking now that there was a real goal. Usually, the kids too big to be carried were the slowest, but they were practically skipping about in the front now. Which was a bit too dangerous for James' taste, but he had a feeling they only had a bit longer before they ran into any more carnivores. Groups of predators seemed to spread out, which only made sense. In the entire time they had been in the flood-plains, herbivores had been elusive to say the least. Even if they fought for good turf, there was just too much area to migrate around, so it would be a moot point. If he thought of it like that, it almost made sense. If the predators were everywhere, maybe the prey usually ran from place to place. Meals on wheels.

Dawn passed, and the sun rose high in the sky. The kids started panting, and they had walked more than far enough from the Spinosaurus to be in danger again, so he got them all to stop for a break. It was just a little stop, but it was always nice to take a minute and actually do some maintenance. It was amazing how easy it was to get dehydrated in the middle of a giant body of water, if you didn't bother to stop and appreciate it. Naturally, when they were done, he re-grouped everyone to something more sensible, with the bulkier people outside and the little ones- kids especially- in the middle. It was a common tactic for herds in the Plains, at least according to nature documentaries. He had never thought that those would actually come in handy someday, but life really was a rollercoaster. 'Mister Moses' didn't let him forget, and in this circumstance, he was glad to have that idea at his disposal. It had dropped the missing person rate dramatically in the early days of their migration. If it could work for a bunch of dumb beasts, it could probably work for people.

Eventually, it the ratio of 'mangrove island' to 'knee-deep ocean' started to shift. Rather than the ethereal track they were used to, it was more like real floodplains, with archipelagos of land poking from the water and tall-grass growth. This trend continued far into the distance. Wherever the group was going, they were nearing land. Everyone was ecstatic, finally happy to be free of the water, possibly for good. Many people had suffered hard from the shriveling and exposure to water, underwater rocks, and so forth. Even if they slept above water, there was only so much de-soaking you could do in one night. Even the people who had been most excited about 'water everywhere', avid swimmers or coastal residents, had finally just lost interest in living in that infinite ocean. Here they were, finally nearing land. If nothing else, James was grateful of that much. It was a sign that there was something else out there, after all. They trailed along the new shores and dirt, packing in. They walked along, following the new-found ground ever to the south.

They walked long into the evening. They met less resistance than expected- which made everyone warier, for good reason. It wasn't a hard walk, and they didn't even run into little predators. What they did find, however, was a new Pod. It was the first new Pod in nearly weeks. They were in a hole- one of the most common 'types' they had seen, actually- and they had been digging themselves out slowly. The fact that almost thirty of them were still alive after all this time was a testament to how safe the area was. It took a while to convince them that they weren't going to hurt them, that they were there to help, and then to dig them out. The rest of the evening they spent setting up camp, welcoming the new group, and finding something to eat. They were running out of what little stockpile they had. Food came easy. It was refreshing to not have to go diving into mud, or to have to hope we got attacked to get a little to eat. It was a great night, especially compared to the last- meeting new people instead of mourning was definitely a lot more fun. They weren't quite to the size they had before the last big fight, but they had at least a hundred people again.

It was no coincidence they spotted the new Pod. Apparently the only reason there was a hole at all was that they had dug it out that far- it had been more like James' own, almost completely underground. They heard the call, too. Since they were underground, they hadn't even known it was night time- their schedule was quite a few hours off. They worked long into the night, finally breaking ground for the first time, driven by the call. James figured there were quite a few more groups like them, reclusive or dying, who had finally been mobilized by the fact there were people out there- people who could call to them like that. They had even though James' group was the source before they clarified the situation. The people mingled, sharing backgrounds, chatting, and talking about their time in the New World. This pod was at the tail end of the new arrivals, as far as anyone could guess. They had lost a few people to elusive cave-spiders that came in the night, and they were distraught to find out that the surface wasn't necessarily safer. Still, they were in a much larger group now, and there was power in groups.

When morning came, they were practically running. The environment was starting to change at a noticeable rate, with more and more dry land to run along. They could even see a forest to either side. It encroached on the marsh gently, narrowing the endless water they were used to down to a thinner, more manageable strip. It almost looked normal like this, whether or not that was true far beside. They finally reached the 'edge' of the turf, new scenery for the first time in so long. There was a massive lake, and quite a few people seemed queasy about the idea of more water, but there was more to look at. The thick forest swung all the way around the lake, as far as they could see, interrupted only by deep channels that might look like massive creeks or drainage ditches if they were filled up. Even as they stood there, something huge and improbably long flew along it like a bullet, slamming into the water with enough force to make tidal waves. It was gone as fast as it came, like a mirage, but one thing was for sure- those weren't creeks. They probably would have left, just from that. The floodplains were a known quantity, one that didn't actually involve impossibly fast mega-snakes. Quite a few people already looked skittish. When they actually saw what James was pointing at, they all changed their mind, and quite quickly at that.

It was a huge, grassy hill, devoid of trees or bushes. It only had one thing seated atop it, a stone city with walls that dwarfed everything else they had seen thus far. The stone was greyed and sturdy, giving the impression of the castles of old, but it was no castle- it was too large for that. It was more like Troy, the ancient walled cities of the Greeks. Between the height of the walls and the sheer scale of the hill it sat atop, it hung high over them. More importantly, and most of all, there was a flag hanging on its wall. It was strung up, stretched across the wall's surface, and everyone there could recognize it. It was a simple rendition of Earth in blues and greens and brown, the unmistakable shapes of continents side by side by side. It wasn't the flag of a country or a people- it was the banner of humanity.

They broke out into a sprint, running along the lake. The sand crunched under James' feet, as he ran his best run. All hundred-plus people broke any semblance of order, practically racing each-other to get to the other side. The massive tracks were hardly an obstacle as they ran, just an afterthought. They spent the whole trek running and running and doing very little else. As they neared, though, James pulled them out of their desperate sprint, calling out. The front side of the walled city was not so inviting. There was another flag, the same as the first, hung over two massive gates. One was of the same ancient stone as the rest, while the other was wooden and seemingly still under construction- which was odd, to say the least. The road up the hill glimmered and shone under the light, almost magically.

Group under control, he started his way up the hill, the rest in tow. It was a long way to the top, and the hill's grade was something modern civil engineers would never allow. Still, they kept moving- no amount of sore legs or fatigue would keep them from home, even if it was a trap after all. Eventually, they managed to crest the hill. The approach was nerve-wracking, and James really did feel like he was leading a flock of sheep to the slaughter. He persevered, though, standing as confidently and resolutely as he could at the front of the mass of people. The gate was empty, completely without guard or escort. The little bit of city he could see behind it was empty, too- it looked a little like a strip mall, with carefully sized and proportioned stores lining either side. The material looked newer. Was it a trap? Would those 'stores' house troops to come capture them? Only time would tell.

Finally, the group was nearly inside. As they trudged through the gate on that shining road, a woman appeared. She seemed to appear from nowhere- but if one were to considere it rationally, it was clear she must have come from the blind-spot off to the side of the gate. She walked to the middle, as though to block their path. She was dressed impressively, almost like a secretary, with a threaded blazer tied in knots down her chest above a white shirt and a formal, knee-length skirt. Her white hair flowed long down her upper-back like a veil, giving her a bit of an unearthly feeling. That was supported by the oddities that followed her out. The ground underneath her, and indeed the air itself was crackling. Everywhere she stepped was turned pitch-black, with strange-blue neon lines racing away, and even the air itself seemed to be dampened and filled with those little 'sparks'. They made patterns, James realized. He recognized the way they bumped into each-other as they moved, the little crisscrosses and collisions, but he couldn't quite place it. As she took each step, the ground she left behind in her wake returned to normal, as if absolutely nothing had happened at all.

She stood there in the gate. No one dared to move as she looked at them, but she just stood and looked, face utterly calm, completely unconcerned with their presence. She almost seemed to be sizing them up. At least she seemed to be human, though, so they didn't run for their lives- not yet. Thankfully, the moment passed. She put on a big smile like an outfit, beaming at them as though she hadn't been so terrifying a moment before. A long line of little green goblins held little hand-sized flags up along the road, waving them intently. James wasn't sure where they had been before, but there they were, out of thin air, a procession ready to welcome them. Anything and everything he had seen or read about Goblins back home indicated that this was not normal behavior. The lady turned aside, like a tour-guide showing off a particularly impressive monument.

"Welcome home," she said, emphasizing the expanse of the city with her arms. James didn't know when, but he had already started moving through the gate, leading his people- his flock- into god knew what dangers lay ahead. It wasn't right, but for some reason, the woman was so pleasant, so eminently trustworthy. The city opened up wide as they passed the gate, even larger than he had imagined, with so many buildings to either side. It really was civilization. He could only hope that most of the inhabitants were humans. Not that he had anything against goblins, of course, but it just wasn't quite what they expected to find.

For better or worse, they really were home.