Chapter 16
Inevitabilities
The sun rose on day four, casting pale light onto a meadow soaked with tension and blood.
The group was alive, but the night’s violence, and the low hostility emanating from Lucas’s decimated camp twenty feet away, left a heavy residue.
?
Dan, his face grim, was tasked with dragging the carcass farther into the fort.
The task should have been trivial for his massive frame.
But it barely budged.
?
The sleepless night and the continuous threat from Lucas, weighed on him.
He felt incredibly sluggish and mentally distracted by the need to constantly monitor the camp twenty feet away.
?“Damn it, move!” he muttered, finally forcing the beast forward.
?He paused, glancing at George, who, thanks to the Qi infusion, was moving better.
?“What’s wrong, son?” George asked, his voice low.
?“I-... it's just a lot dad,” Dan admitted, forcing himself to smile.
“I'm just frustrated with all this shit.”
“Heh, yeah.” George responded with a gravel, “I remember feeling overwhelmed when I got laid off that one summer.”
He paused to look around them.
“If only I knew what a real problem was.”
?
The fort quickly fell into a routine of desperate production. The terror of the night before had solidified into a collective will to master their newfound powers.
?
Chris sat near the low, carefully managed fire, hunched over his work.
HISS.
A small puff of steam spat into existence in his cupped hands, fueled by the painful friction of his focused Qi.
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It collapsed instantly.
It was better than yesterday.
He then turned to processing the hide, meticulously scraping the dense, dark flesh.
Kim, spear leaning against the wall, sat with a small water bucket.
She closed her eyes.
She could only get slow ripples moving through her body, but she felt like she was getting somewhere.
?
Jaime and Annette sat quietly, their fear transmuted into focus.
They worked with quiet intensity, stripping limbs and getting sticks ready for Chris to refine into more throwing sticks. Every scrape, every swing, was an act of desperate defense.
?Luna took naps.
Jimmy, meanwhile, remained the perimeter watch.
Eyes fixed on the forest, but his mind was focused on Lucas’s camp.
Are we the bad guys here?
?Lucas's remaining men—now only seven besides Lucas himself—were a picture of misery.
They hadn't dared start a fire, fearing it would draw attention.
The group was huddled, shivering, visibly malnourished and terrified.
They argued in low, ragged whispers, occasionally glancing toward Dan’s fort, where the scent of roasted meat was a constant, cruel temptation.
?
They were bloodied, dirty, and tired.
He saw Lucas yell at one of his men, enraged by a comment.
A liability.
A danger to themselves and us.
A ticking bomb of desperation.
? Nah, fuck em.
The simmering tension boiled over around the early evening.
Dan was sitting near the funnel entrance, keeping an eye out.
He saw Lucas and two of his men—Burly Beard and Skinny—approach the perimeter, moving slowly but deliberately.
They stopped just outside the narrow opening.
?
Lucas’s eyes followed the smell.
?“We need food, Dan,” Lucas stated, dropping the pretense of bravado for a desperate appeal. “We're out. We had to leave our scraps to the beasts. Give us a share of that meat. We fought too.”
?Dan slowly rose to his full height, his club resting easily on his shoulder.
“The meat is for my people, Lucas. The ones who built this and stood their ground.
You’re welcome to try hunting.”
?
Burly stepped forward, his eyes glazed with hunger. “You’ll let us starve? We’re all supposed to be in this together!”
?
“We were never together,” Dan rumbled, his voice low. “You made that choice the moment you decided to eye us sideways.
The answer is NO.
You will not have nothing.”
?
The familiar sneer replaced the mask.
“Fine. You hoard everything! But when the next beasts come, don’t expect us to let you steal all the Qi.”
He spat on the ground and turned to retreat, a new, volatile fury fueling his steps.
?Dan watched them go, his fists clenching.
