Excise: A Post-Apocalyptic LitRPG (Ether Collapse Book 2) Read online

  Off far to the left stood the familiar domed building of Arbuckle, an alien metal, that was the shop. As he ran his eyes over the humongous space that could house easily ten times his group’s current number, the hundred-plus people spread out through the gorge slowly began to notice the large group of humans entering the Territory and work ceased.

  The founding group exuberantly walked over to welcome its newest members. It was both a happy moment and a sad moment as no one knew each other. Rocky could hear questions about family being asked and saw the same moment he’d experienced when people were forced to answer in the unknown or negative.

  Tears were shed both in sorrow and joy all around him. The raw emotion nearly made Rocky break down as well. Instead, he forced numb disinterest on himself. He was now the leader of these people, and leaders didn’t cry.

  He shook some hands of a few people but didn’t recognize a single one. Their scrunched noses and quick step away, however, reminded him he desperately needed a shower and chemical de-funker.

  He motioned to Joe to get his attention, and they walked to the side. Once away from the group, Rocky looked at him. “I am going to promote you to Captain, the highest rank I can, which should allow you to begin promoting people below you.”

  He navigated through his leadership screen and added Joe to the same rank Derik held, which soured his mouth as he recalled his first and only interaction with the man. Regardless, as soon as Joe became a Captain, he confusedly asked, “You said I should be able to promote people, right? It seems like that option is grayed out for me?”

  “Really?” Rocky asked as he studied his own window. What Joe had noticed made sense in a way because there were only three people successfully promoted on the list he could see: Joe, Smith, and Derik. Jerry Hadfare, the man who’d lost his daughter, had died shortly after Rocky’s encounter with him, but Rocky assumed Smith and Derik would have attempted to promote people if they’d been able. It looks like he had made an assumption about people being able to promote under themselves.

  The notification had seemed to claim that they could, though? Then he found the boxes beside people’s names which needed to be checked. One read approval and the other read declined. All three had it checked declined at the moment, so he went in and gave Joe a check in the approval column. After that change, Joe found that he could approve people and began adding as many people as he could to the ranks below him and the ranks below them.

  Rocky was about to walk away when Joe growled and stated, “I can only promote one hundred and fifty-five people in total!”

  Sighing, Rocky looked at the new list of people Joe had been adding. Sure enough, there wasn’t enough space for the entire military, due to only twenty-five spaces being available in the Second Lieutenant tier and one hundred twenty-five in the Officer Cadet, first tier. This meant that at most they could have one hundred fifty-five members if they included the five third-tier ranks. He would probably need to level his Leadership class to gain more, but currently, it didn’t seem active!

  There isn’t anything I can do about that right this second…

  To Joe, he gave a half-smile and shrug before saying, “You’ll have to choose carefully who to promote. Extra stats will probably help your fighters more than the admin staff, but that still leaves a huge number that won’t get the benefits.”

  He apologized and excused himself to go to the large river he’d barely been able to make out from the entrance. It abutted the Grotto on the east side. Once he arrived a good fifteen-minute walk later, he noticed that the survivors who had been here for a little over a week had done their best to add a layer of privacy to the bathing area. He smiled at the sign of propriety that still clung on to humans from the world pre-apocalypse.

  Forgoing that civilized segregation, he stripped out of his armor and pulled the nanite under armor off back to its black ball composition. Then in his birthday suit, he dove out into the middle of the river.

  As he swam and scrubbed, he felt his soul weapon crawl over his skin and smiled wanly. It was an added bit of security for him. While he wasn’t really worried about the Ether-mutated wildlife in the river, it didn’t hurt to have the weapon always on ‘hand’. The fact that it now wanted more human—or rather sapient—essence was terrifying, but he didn’t really want to dwell on that too much.

  It’s not like I am going to be the one converting humans to undead for it… In fact, hopefully, that was all of them.

  His last thought rang false even in his head, so Rocky forcibly blanked his mind. He then floated and cleaned himself until the unclean debuff fully fell off, and he was only left with ‘Peppy le Skunk’. He assumed that it might take something akin to rolling in talc to get rid of, but his nose had long since gotten immune to the horrendous odor.

  Regardless, he exited the water and put back on his self-cleaning nanite under armor. He placed his Chimera Knight’s armor in his bag of holding and planned to have it thoroughly cleaned on his visit to the shop later.

  Once finished dressing, he made his way towards the construction he could see in the distance. As he neared, he saw a familiar face which was straining to pull on a rope, along with others, to haul a massive cut tree. Rocky jumped forward and put himself into the group. As soon as he joined the rest, a shift in momentum occurred, and the log sped up fractionally in its slide.

  Another two hundred fifty feet brought them to the pile, and the group dropped the rope in unison. Smith, the familiar face and one of only three people he’d met who had stayed in the Territory, had his hands on his knees and was breathing heavy. Rocky walked over and patted him on the back, speaking in a tone of gratitude, “Is all this organizing your work?”

  Smith lifted his head, sweat trickling down his brow and responded between deep breaths, “Yeah, well, I am… more the… muscle of… the operation.” He motioned over his shoulder. “Derik… has been organizing…” He made a motion to encompass everything around them.

  Rocky smiled at the Native American man and patted him twice more on the back. “Think you could show me around?”

  Smith nodded then took a moment to tell the others helping him that they were done for the day. Rocky smiled at the clear respect the four showed him. As the four walked away, Rocky called after them, “Might want to clean up. We’ll be having a party!”

  Smith’s eyebrows rose before he took on a thoughtful look. “Come on then. We had better hurry. There ain’t much to show, honestly.”

  They walked together to the site of their first building exchanging pleasantries, Smith’s Native American lilt comforting to Rocky in its slow cadence. The one and only building under construction was a Longhouse. Smith and Derik had laid out a basic rectangle with trees, and the survivors had even begun attempting to plank some of the wood.

  With one hand scratching his head, Smith pointed with the other one at the outline. “The real problem is that no one has any real experience with this.” Rocky realized after a slow moment that he wasn’t pointing at the whole structure but the planked wood. Smith continued, confirming what Rocky intuited, “No two planks are the same, which means we’ll have cracks in the floors and walls. I know you can fill those with mud according to the blueprints Sela showed us, but…”

  Smith stopped scratching his head and looked at Rocky seriously. “People are used to a certain way of living, and I think this is going to shock them.”

  Rocky nodded and asked, “What would make this easier and sturdier?” He looked at the building, then over to the portable forge that stood nearby. “I was already considering getting an automated sawmill.”

  Smith nodded, and his smile grew larger as he looked over at the Arbuckle shop, “That would be a start. We haven’t had access to that yet but heard that it could access some pretty amazing gadgets.” He took a pragmatic pause. “You going to give us access?”

  As Rocky’s mouth drew into a line, while a look of disappointment briefly flickered over Smith’s. Rocky opened his mouth to explain, b
ut at Smith’s raised hand he paused. Smith put on a half smile. “Sela told us why when she dropped the thing off, but let’s just say there are going to be some… mixed emotions about it.”

  Before Rocky could ask what the heck Smith meant, the man motioned for him to follow him to the woodpile. On the walk over, Smith deftly brought the topic back, “Additionally, people are starting to raise skills that should help speed up and solidify the construction.” Smith pointed at his own chest. “My axe cutting is at twenty already and goes up a fair bit each day.”

  Pointing at the wood, he expanded on his point, “The planking is actually the narrowing point for all this. We might have had walls up already if all of our wood could be converted.” Again, he scratched his dark black hair, “I was considering giving it a go tomorrow and converting a good portion of woodcutters over, but if you get a sawmill… that would help a great deal.”

  After that, Smith excused himself to go get cleaned up and left Rocky alone to contemplate purchases. Creating housing was imperative with so many bodies, and Rocky jumped the sawmill to the number one spot on the shopping list. Thinking about the purchases made him crack a smile when he remembered Garnell.

  Garnell was what human mythology would have deemed a Dwarf. He had a stall in the Aretrin Bazaar and seemed to sell building equipment blueprints and materials that would come in useful for a burgeoning Territory.

  Don’t forget the Dungeon too. If Maximus ‘Prickulus Exterious’ and I come to an agreement, I am going to have to factor that into the whole picture! What about the economy?

  Sela had stressed to him the importance of forming an economy of some sort within the Grotto, and he wasn’t sure where to begin. He shook his head, looking at the poorly laid out building as he felt a headache coming on. He blew out a long breath and let the considerations fall for now.

  Tomorrow would be for figuring out solutions to Algonquin Valley problems; right now, he wanted to get rid of his Peppy le Skunk debuff and join everyone for a celebration.

  I wonder if they have beer and tequila for sale in the shop?

  With that excited and uplifting thought, he hurried towards the Arbuckle building with a bit of pep in his step.

  Chapter Eight

  Joe looked at Rocky. “Man, you’re looking a little pale. You sure you’re ready for this?”

  Rocky swallowed. Normally, he was an excellent public speaker, but never had he spoken to a bunch of apocalypse survivors. Each person out there in the crowd milling on the other side of this ‘stage’ had been through a literal hell. Each person had equal rights to despise him or respect him.

  Rocky handed Joe his bag of holding and smiled sheepishly. “Thanks for volunteering to stay sober tonight. Also make sure you thoroughly thank the volunteers in the military as well. I will make sure to try to find a way to reward them.” He looked around at those present and included them in his broad smile.

  Joe nodded. “The fact that you have got this lot alcohol is going to go a long way. Trust me,” he quipped and gripped Rocky’s shoulder, hard, giving unspoken support while still continuing humorously, “Look, if it gets rough up there, tell them where the food is, right?”

  Rocky laughed at Joe’s comic relief, then responded, “Not everyone thinks with their stomachs like you do, Joe.” He looked over to the smoke coming off the cook fires in the distance. Zippo was over there making sure everything was delectable. “I swear that’s why you like Zippo so much!”

  Joe laughed. “That kid sure can cook,” he retorted. Then with the hand still on his shoulder, he turned Rocky towards the stage. “Just like a Band-Aid, it's best to just get it done.”

  Rocky felt his heart pound erratically for a split second; then he climbed the jerry-rigged stacked logs they were calling a stage. Once he was visible, some of the voices quieted, but for the most part, the conversations continued as the excitement of making it someplace safe spilled out from people.

  He raised his arms to shoulder height and placed his palms up towards the sky, in an inviting gesture, then shouted, “Welcome, everyone, to Algonquin Grotto!”

  His words cut through most of the thrum of voices, and a hush fell through the crowd as people heard. He lowered his arms as the silence descended. Those who hadn’t initially heard were shushed by neighbors, and before too long, a deafening silence reigned.

  Rocky smiled nervously down at everyone, swallowed and continued, no longer shouting but trying to pitch his voice to carry, “Everyone in this valley is a fighter, a survivor!” He paused, looking out at the pride that shone on people's faces. His nerves diminished, and he continued, “What we have all gone through is hard to define—not only challenging physically and mentally but also emotionally.”

  His hands rose back up, and he yelled, “Everyone in this valley has been through hell and walked out the other side!”

  A cheer louder than any Rocky had heard during his sports career echoed through the Grotto. He smiled and motioned to the military men holding recently purchased trays to begin walking through the crowd. On each tray, there were packed cups carrying sweet, alcoholic nectar. 'Cups’ was a poor descriptor; these were Cupa Mact Leaves.

  Honestly, I can’t believe humans wrote a song about the red solo cup! If only they had known about the Cuppa Mact leaf!

  The leaf was absolutely amazing and was unquestionably worthy of a few ballads. If they didn’t already exist, that was. The leaf itself was a perfectly formed, twenty-ounce, flexible and collapsible cup. As you poured more liquid, it would expand and contain it within the cup-like container, and that wasn’t all; the organism chilled liquid. The cup-leaf would use some sort of biological reaction to keep beverages cold.

  Eventually, of course, whatever chemical reaction took place to chill the liquid would fail, but each leaf was a single diamond chip, which meant he had gotten them all for three Crystallized Ether!

  As the cups were slowly distributed, Rocky saw many people sniffing the contents. The first cup was something called Aguarvo, which he had been told was the lifeblood of any good party. It smelled like a sweeter version of tequila.

  Rocky walked back to the back of the stage and was handed up his own cup; then cup in hand, he made his way back. He looked over at Sela, who was standing next to the monstrous Azoth. They were being given a very large berth by most people, despite the fact that Sela was holding a Cuppa Mact leaf for Azoth, who was making sniffing noises loud enough to be heard by Rocky on the stage.

  Smiling, he shouted, “As the military is telling you, please hold on to the cup you are given, and please wait until the toasts are made to have a drink.” His raised voice successfully brought everyone’s attention back to him. His nerves still on edge, he rushed ahead, “Algonquin Gorge is meant to be a safe haven for all. From this day forward, we will welcome anyone who finds their way here and anyone we can bring back with us.”

  A few cheers went up at his words, but Rocky held up his hand, mostly to stop the people who wanted to try their beverage. He continued, “This place is known as a Territory, and within its borders, we are given certain protections and opportunities,” he looked out at the walls and then directly at the half-shod building, “but we also have a lot of work to do. I will not pretend that it’s going to be easy or perfectly safe. However, I will ask you now, are you willing to help make this place a home?”

  People looked at each other, and Rocky could see the build of the cheer coming. He cut it off, wanting that cheer to come with the toast, “I propose that we strive, together, to make this valley a beacon for humanity.” He raised his glass. “Cheers to regaining some of what humanity has lost!”

  The cheer was monstrous, and on stage, Rocky grimaced as his heart stuttered again. Then with a tilt to his head, he brought his own untasted cup to his lips and tipped it back, draining it in a single motion.

  Aguarvo was tequila on steroids; somehow, the liquid was smooth and sweet but packed the traditional kick he associated with hard liquor. As he stared into the
bottom of his cup in surprise, he heard murmurs of approval and exclamations of excitement as the crowd followed his lead. Rocky motioned to the military, now carrying bottles, and they began threading back through the crowd, filling cups.

  He turned and got a refill from Joe, who gave him a thumbs up as he approached. “The hard part is done, Rock. Now they’ll start to unwind!” Rocky’s mouth formed a half-grin he couldn’t help; he could already feel the warmth of the delectable alcohol spreading. As he walked back to the front of the stage, his muscles relaxed tension he didn’t know they were holding with that flush of heat, and his nerves eased.

  Once there, he waited until he saw one of the military men give him a thumbs up. It took about a minute, but everyone who wanted more alcohol got it. The four hundred fifty or so individuals from the military who volunteered to help and keep guard were the real heroes. Rocky nodded to a grinning military woman and smiled broadly, trying to convey that sentiment to her and swept his eyes over the others to share it.

  Then he turned back out to the crowd. “Tonight is to celebrate the founding of this home!” He shouted again to capture their attention. This time, it took a bit longer, but eventually, the silence returned. Rocky continued, “Right now, cooks are preparing a feast.” He pointed to the rising smoke, and the crowd grew excited.

  Another minute passed, and he held up a hand, waiting for their attention to return. “There are drinks enough for everyone,” he continued once a semblance of quiet returned. Then he pointed to a long table with at least fifty military personnel surrounding kegs, bottles, and deserts.

  The constant hum grew louder, and Rocky, seeing that it was going to become impossible to keep their attention, raised his glass and shouted, “To all of you and this place of safety for humanity!”

  A sound so loud Rocky jumped exploded from the gathered individuals who raised glasses and waited. He looked around, trying to figure out what they were waiting for. Then he saw Sela make a pointed motion of taking her drink and pointing at him.