BlueCleave had put on a hell of a barbeque, and it looked like we had gone through most of the yarsp meat already.

Made sense, with no real way to store it.

I saw the cook stuffing cubes of the uncooked white meat into a large pot, but I assumed that was lunch or dinner prep. There was still a handful of servings of the browned seared yarsp as well, but it looked like the hobbs were going to finish that off before dispersing.

Tollya was there, and she had a heaping plate of her own. There was a great deal of vegetables as well as meat, and I marked a pile of hash browns as a good target for a lunchtime snack while I sat to think.

Without refrigeration, daily food purchases would be needed, and I realized my mistake in shopping that morning.

Asking Lee for enough to last a few days meant nothing without any way to store the food, and it was smarter to only purchase what we were sure to need that day. I added cold food storage to my mental list of upgrades.

The Afflqwst app pinged the addition automatically, making me jump out of my skin. That automation upgrade was interesting. I wasn’t sure I liked it very much at that moment.

Thankfully, Doofus distracted me. He grunted and lifted himself up off the blacktop, before plodding over to the golf cart and climbing on board.

His fur was starting to come back in, I could see stubble across his entire body now. It tickled and poked me as I rubbed his head, and he lolled his jaws open at me. When I stopped scratching his head, Doofus leaned on me and licked my helmet exactly one time. I leaned back, and he sighed in contentment.

“Good to see you buddy. Thanks again for last night. You’re a very good boy.”

My hand reached up to scratch the underside of his chin as I relaxed a little, and his tongue lolled in response. We sat in the golf cart together for almost fifteen minutes, and it was the most peaceful part of my day.

Then the hobb in the apron started cleaning up after the morning feast, and I grunted as I got up to go secure a plate of lunch. Doofus followed me, of course. He loved the hobbs. They seemed to be growing fond of him as well, as several knew his name and he happily wandered through them, licking yarsp grease from fingers and wagging his tail for scraps. I sat down and had a lovely breakfast of Bok Choy and hashbrowns.

After scanning the horizon and deciding I was too hungry to care, I took my helmet off to wolf down my meal. The hobb in the apron approached as I was shoveling food in my mouth to offer me the plate of seared yarsp. The meat looked like cooked bacon fat and smelled roughly the same. All I could see when I looked at it was the panther sized wasp that tried to snap my head off by crawling in the truck with me.

The hobb frowned at the look on my face but shrugged and put the plate down again. “Hard to beat yarsp. What meat you like if not yarsp?”

I blanched, staring at the plate of seared meat. “Sorry, I’m sure it's very good. I just don’t eat bugs.”

The cook’s frown deepened, and his eyes furrowed to a comical level. “No eat bugs? You only eat plants.” He nodded. “I understand.”

I shook my head, chewing my hashbrowns. They were salted delightfully, but I missed having them with butter. “I like beef, pork, chicken. Normal meats.”

The cook nodded. “Ah.” He blew his cheeks out and leaned back on the table. “Didn’t all those get BuyMort?”

I blinked, fork half-way up to my mouth. “Like Doofus.”

The hobb nodded. He idly reached for a slab of seared yarsp and tore a chunk off with his teeth. I continued eating my bok choy and hashbrowns, but I glanced at the yarsp meat occasionally. The cook shrugged and returned to cleaning up.

I noticed he was pouring the bigger serving plates grease remnants into tin cans and waved him back over. Upon my request for information, he revealed that the grease was used to keep any remnant meat preserved by keeping the outer layer moist. The excess could be sold for a low amount of morties. It served as general purpose cooking and gobb machine grease. He happily gave me two cans of it for the suet cake I had planned, and I stored them in my grenade bag alongside the pumpkin seeds.

Doofus rejoined me, stopping to sniff up at the plates with leftovers. He casually lifted his front end up on the seat of the table and stole a strip of yarsp meat. The hobb in the apron saw it happen and didn’t react at all, aside from a small smile.

Doofus brought his prize over to me and curled up behind my seat to munch it noisily down. I finished my plate and stood to deliver it to the cook. He took it with a nod, and I thanked him before turning to see Doofus sitting at the passenger door of my new truck. Smart dog.

“No, buddy. You can’t come with,” I told him as I approached. He looked at me, huffed, then looked back to the truck’s door.

I picked up my helmet from the table and walked over to the dog. “Doofus, listen.” I knelt at his side. “I have to go on a dangerous trip to pick up people who will help us. It’s not safe for you to go.”

He stared at me the entire time I spoke to him, head cocked partially. When I finished, he gave a low woof, placed one of his paws on my knee, and then turned to look at the truck door again.

“Doof, buddy, no. Look, there’s the Dearth Conglomerate after me. They have tanks. At the least, if their idiot militia goons figure out where I am, they’re gonna come shooting. Then there’s the yarsps, which will literally tear us apart if they get half a chance. Possible dream storms, and who knows what other lethal bullshit to deal with.”

I paused and started scratching his head again. “I don’t know how much of that you understand, but I really don’t want to put you in harm’s way Doof.”

Doofus pulled his head away from my scratchies, looked me directly in the eyes, and then woofed lightly at the truck door.

I gave up, stood, and popped the door for him. “Alright, fine. You can come, but you’re wearing a seat belt.”

Doofus happily climbed aboard, and started sniffing the giant sword wound in the back seat. Falcor had cut a large swath through the material in the back, but Doof was happy enough to climb up on the rear passenger seat and curl up comfortably, once he was done sniffing everything.

I gathered up the remaining weapons from the truck and started piling them on the table I had used for breakfast. I had destroyed two handguns when I cut the front seat in half, but everything else had survived. We had an additional five semiautomatic handguns, including the one I wore, and four AR-15 rifles, with extra magazines for each, and holsters for each of the handguns.

Tollya wandered over from her table to whistle at the armaments. “Good guns?”

I nodded. “All yours Tollya. Do me a favor and make sure they get in the hands of hobbs who need upgrades.”

“Of course, boss,” she said. Her eyes were still on the guns, and as she approached, she ran a gray hand along the barrel of one of the rifles. Then she suddenly blinked and turned to look at me. “These for us? For hobbs?”

I nodded again. “Yeah.”

I remembered the .40 caliber at my own hip and hurriedly unstrapped the holster. After adding it to the pile, I waved my hands.

“I’m not a good shot with anything but a shotgun, so I don’t want any of them. Take em. Better security is better security, and I want BlueCleave carrying the best we can manage.”

Tollya looked at the spread of weapons again, then turned and straightened her spine. She hit her chest with a closed fist and nodded at me. After that, she started gathering them up to carry back. A few other hobbs came over to help, and they bustled off the weaponry.

I got in the Toyota, pausing to look at the outside of it. The passenger side had been dented and scratched to shit, with two separate pile ups of yarsps slamming into it. The door still worked, and it’s window was miraculously intact, if cracked. I didn’t dare try to lower it, with dents visible from the inside.

Doofus grunted at me when I got in, then went back to panting. I turned the ignition and got the ac blowing, changing one of the vents to hit him right in the face. He happily licked his chops and settled comfortably in front of the AC for a post breakfast nap as I started shopping.

BuyMort was only too happy to pop up, and when I went to check the affiliate, I saw that Mr. Sada had dropped ten million morties into our operational account, which I controlled. I shook my head. The amount he had gotten from the spider farm was in excess of two-hundred million.

“Whatever,” I muttered, before swiping the entire amount over to Rayna’s account with a note that said “For Sleem.” It’d be enough for now. And when I needed more I’d just head over to his room and talk it out of him.

Then I started searching for a new shotgun, with a sad glance at the slagged ruin on the floor beside me. On a whim, I mentally typed in ‘Mossberg Shockwave’ into the search bar.

BuyMort did indeed have several of them for sale, from various affiliates all over the planet and beyond. I sat and browsed for a while, not feeling particularly rushed. Weaponry was a sizeable market, for reasons that should be obvious at this point, so I had a lot of options to scroll through. I narrowed it down a bit by keeping the search results limited to size.

My preference was the sawed off, I had yet to find a use for myself to be engaged in combat beyond what a sawed off shotgun could provide, and I was most comfortable with that type of weapon. There was a small thought in the back of my head that I would expand my horizons later on, if there was a later on. Right then, what mattered was something I knew I could use well. A series of ads popped up and I selected a few and then rolled through them.

THIS GUN IS LOADED . . . INTRODUCING THE ALL NEW MERLIN THUNDER STICK. AMERICAN KNOW-HOW MIXED WITH ALIEN TECHNOLOGY GUARANTEED TO MAKE YOUR NEXT KILL OUT OF THIS WORLD. 15,000 morties, 4 stars.

PEERLESS DOUBLE-BARREL FAT GAUGE — NEW FAT GAUGE TECHNOLOGY LETS THE PEERLESS DOUBLE-BARREL FIT AND FIRE ANY SHOTGUN SHELLS. FITS AN AUTOMATIC RELOAD MAGAZINE INTO THE STOP, AUTOLOADING ANY SHELL INTO THE CHAMBER FOR FAST BLAST ACTION. PEERLESS — BLASTING HOLES IN PEOPLE’S BUSINESS SINCE 1862. WE’RE A FAMILY BRAND! 17,000 morties, 4.3 stars.

HELL IS HERE - AND SO IS HIGHWATER BLAST SHOCK. CERAMIC-HELIUM ALLOY, RAD-POLYMER GRIPS, THIS COMBAT SHOTGUN TAKES THE BEST OF TERRAN DESIGN AND BUYMORT MATERIALS, MAKING A WEAPON SO DAMN POWERFUL CHARLTON HESTON JUST DROPPED HIS GUN FROM HIS COLD DEAD HANDS. CAN FIRE ALL SORTS OF EXOTIC AMMUNITION INCLUDING PLASMA AND LASER BURSTS. 130,000 morties, 4.9 stars.

Honestly all of them sounded fine. But I had the morties and the last one, though the most expensive, sounded like it’d last under the sort of pressure I’d been handing out to myself and my weaponry. I purchased it and waited eagerly for the pod.

When the weapon arrived next to my new truck, I happily opened the box with my knife and pulled out my new shotgun to inspect it. The barrel was white metal, and reminded me of Molls’ armor. The receiver and trigger were the same material, but the slide and grip were made of orange polymer of some kind. It even came with it’s own sling, made of synthetic fiber.

The ad had claimed the barrel and all internal parts were constructed from a ceramic helium alloy, and the cost was far higher than my old shotgun because of that. But this thing clearly stated it was capable of firing even plasma ammunition without heat damage. It was light too, easy to handle even with a slightly longer barrel than I was used to. I happily loaded it with my remaining laser slugs and set it down to lean against the center console.

Then I turned back to see Doofus in the seat and remembered I had promised him a seat belt. A quick purchase on BuyMort, and he was in a brand new harness, belted into the back seat. He huffed as we pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the gate.

“Hey, I don’t wanna hear it. You need a seatbelt even more than I do, you wanna go through the windshield?” I looked at his section. It was already cracked, with fissures in the glass spreading out from the corner by the door.

He whined from the back. A short whine, more frustration than any kind of request.

“Nope, don’t care. You wanted a ride in the car during the apocalypse, so you’re wearing a seat belt. Deal with it buddy, I am not picking up your pieces from the road out there.”

I glanced at him in the rear view, and he yawned before curling up in the seat. His new seat belt capable harness allowed for free movement, so long as he didn’t activate the seatbelt by moving too fast.

The gate swung closed behind us and several armed hobbs watched us go from atop the wall. I shot a text to Axle, letting him know I was on the way to pick them up. He called me almost immediately, and I tapped accept on my phone before dropping it in the nearby cupholder.

“Glad to hear you’re on the way, we have a yarsp problem.” His voice was strained, and he was panting. When I looked at the phone, I could see that he was running. The phone itself appeared to be in a pocket of some kind because I could see ground moving past the camera and the occasional blurry paw, but otherwise nothing useful.

“Think we stumbled across their nest, cause oh boy is there a lot of these things coming.” He panted for a few seconds before adding, “they don’t usually care this much unless you disturb their nest.”

“Where are you two? I’ll be there as fast as I can.” I pressed the pedal down, and Doofus sat up in the backseat to look around.

“Jada! Send our new boss man a ping, yeah?” Axle panted.

A voice to his side sounded up. “Already on it baby.” She wasn’t as winded as Axle, but it was a close thing. They both sounded like they had been running since we last spoke. Something on my phone chimed, and my helmet’s map suddenly vanished. In its place was a circular loading icon and the word ‘updating.’

When it came back a few seconds later, I had a pulsing dot on my map to follow. I had been following the ten north, and the dot seemed to indicate that was the right direction. I waved as I drove past Lee’s compound, but nobody on the wall waved back.

“His hobbs seem grumpier than ours,” I thought as I drove. I wondered what had happened to change their demeanor since that morning.

The helmet GPS wanted me to go off-road a few miles past the farm, so I focused on the mini-map and made it expand. The line led up into the national forest a short way, but the dot was getting closer to the edge of the forest too.

“Hold on, Doof!”

I veered off into the desert on a dirt road. I had to slow considerably to stay on course, but the truck handled the rough terrain well. I only became nervous when I saw a pickup truck in my rearview mirror, following the same dirt road I had taken. It was a minor incline to the forest, and they had stayed far enough behind me to avoid notice until the dirt road.

At that moment I realized that I really didn’t like being followed.

I fumed and stared in the mirror, getting more and more pissed off as the truck continued following me. The dirt road led up to the forest's edge, and just as I was deciding to stop the truck to deal with my pursuers, Axle and Jada broke the tree line.

They were sprinting directly toward me on all fours, taking great bounding strides with each step. The canid people looked for all the world just like giant hyenas in that moment, aside from all the gear strapped to their bodies.

Jada had her mace in a series of tight straps, and both Knowles were wearing full sized backpacks. The packs seemed to loop around their legs as well as arms, and I could see why. They ran without impediment to their movement, in spite of both clearly carrying heavy loads.

As I turned the wheel and headed off road to meet them, I saw why. A horde of yarsps flooded from the trees behind them, hundreds of them streaming from the trees. Once they were on open ground, the yarsps picked up speed and began forming orderly rows as they swarmed toward the Knowles.

I rolled a little further on the gas and apologized to Doofus for the bumpy ride. He was partially in the backseat, bracing himself against the trucks floor with two paws. The seat belt held his body mostly in place as the truck bucked and jolted against the uneven terrain. I cut in toward the forest, angling the truck to pick them up on the run. It was clear there would not be time for them to slow their pace.

“Hold your direction, I’m going to line up and pick you both up at speed.” I cut the wheel to line up better, then pressed on the gas pedal harder. The pursuit truck picked up their pace when they saw me go off-road entirely, and Doofus grunted from his precarious position on the back seat. I glanced in the rear-view mirror to see him staring at the other vehicle through the rear windshield, posture stiff. A low growl sounded, before being cut off by a bounce in the road.

The truck held up, but the terrain was more than I was ready to drive on. I approached from the side of the running Knowles, and reduced speed to match them. Axle and Jada both veered toward me as the swarm of yarsps closed in.

The Knowles were faster runners, and Jada leapt easily into the truck’s banged up cargo compartment. Axle kept running and moved alongside the passenger door. I hit the unlock button and reached over to pop the door, and he quickly grabbed the sides to pull himself in.

His paws were huge, easily twice the size of my hand. I noticed the instant his clawed fingers gripped the doorframe. He ran on his hind legs briefly, before pulling himself fully inside the cabin and yanking the door closed behind himself. The giant canid alien extended a furry paw to me and grinned, ignoring the coat of froth on his own chest. It dripped from his jaws, covering his neck and upper torso.

“Axle. Great to meet you.” He gripped the dashboard in a crouch, waiting for my response as we jostled and bounced through the desert. I reached out quickly and gripped his paw, shaking it once before returning to the wheel.

“Tyson, good to meet you too Axle. Does your partner want to come in the cabin too?” I glanced at the rear-view, to see Jada braced in the truck bed, legs spread wide as she brandished her heavy mace. The yarsps were faster than the truck on open ground, without a road, and the outrunners began to catch up to us.

Doofus was busily sniffing Axle, who quickly shoved his way behind my seat and strapped in. Then he started sniffing Doofus back. Doofus growled lightly and turned away.

“Doofus! Be nice,” I tried to chastise him, but he just looked out the back window and growled at our pursuers. “Hey, I tried to warn you buddy, this is what a ride in the car is now. Not a fun time.”

Jada whooped and I heard something crunch with impact. Axle glanced out the rear window and smiled. “Ah, Jada. Exercising her instincts,” he sighed.

I looked in my side view mirror to see her swing her mace and crush the skull of an attacking yarsp, knocking it back and tripping up a few of its friends. The female Knowle laughed and leaned to swing on her other side, taking out another yarsp.

The pursuit vehicle had stopped in the dirt road, and as I drove the truck toward them, I could see militia climbing down, each with rifles.

“Jada, get down!” I shouted.

She did, dropping into the truck bed and covering her head. Axle crouched as low as he could get, but his back stuck up anyway. Knowles were larger than humans, and the truck cabin was cramped with him inside. I lowered my head and turned the wheel to put more desert between us and the militia vehicle.

Bullets rattled through the cabin, coinciding with several muzzle flashes from the truck. Doofus ducked as the last window in the cabin smashed out, bits of safety glass bouncing from his skin. He growled and stuck his head outside, before unleashing a single bark.

The sonic boom from the dog’s weapon kicked up a cloud of dust as it rocketed across the desert and slammed into the militia vehicle. The truck lifted from its wheels and groaned as it fell over sideways. The men with guns were all knocked off their feet. I cut the wheel and turned back for the dirt road, leading my swarm of yarsps with me.

As I drove past the group of armed men still trying to pick themselves up off the desert floor, I honked my horn at them once. The yarsps swarmed over the area and did the rest. Jada peeked up in my rearview mirror and watched, dispassionately as the yarsps went to work. I heard a few screams, but just pressed on the gas pedal harder.

The swarm faltered, distracted by their new prey. Only a few of them continued the chase after us, and I picked up enough speed to leave them behind once we reached blacktop again.

Doofus shifted and yelped, and I glanced back to see blood. His seat had become full of broken glass, and when he moved to get more comfortable, a small chunk of glass embedded in his side.

“Axle, can you help him please?” I met eyes with the Knowle in my rear-view mirror, and he nodded. “Doofus, Axle is a friend. Be nice.”

The dog huffed back at me, as if to say that he was always nice.

“May I?” Axle asked, and when I looked at them in the rearview, Doofus started panting. Axle reached gently for the dog’s side, and removed the chunk of glass with his claw. I held the truck steady on the road as he collected each small piece of glass from Doofus’ seat and placed them in a small, dirty, cloth bag he produced from a pocket. With a few more quick sweeps of his hairy paw, the Knowle pronounced the seat clean, and Doofus leaned back to get comfortable.

His glass wound was minor, but I made a note to clean it when we got back, half expecting Awfflqwst to throw it on a list for me. It didn’t.

I waved again as we drove past Sundew Valley Farms, but none of the wall-top hobbs responded. The return journey was peaceful, and the gates opened to welcome us in, before swinging back in place behind us. When we parked, I made everyone get out on the drivers side, to avoid any more problems with broken glass, and then sold the rest of it to BuyMort to clean it up. I mentally thanked Rayna for the tip, that was a silver lining with this entire situation. At least it made cleaning up easier.

Axle offered his paw to help Jada down, and she smiled at him before accepting. Her smile was particularly toothy as Axle bent to clean Doofus’ wound with a small wipe from his first aid kit. Doofus wagged his tail at Jada until Axle caught him and growled. Doofus growled back but turned to saunter off. He was heading in the direction of Phyllis’ trailer, so I didn’t bother trying to stop him.