Bart

  I dropped out of the tree and hit the ground hard, lungs burning. Keith collapsed to his knees beside me. Steve crept forward like the Whispering Willow might twitch back to life. Starla hopped onto my chest and licked my face like she’d just saved me herself.

  We won—barely—sustaining only minor injuries. As soon as I could sit up, I started healing myself and sent Starla to heal Keith. She sniffed him, made a face, and trotted straight to Steve instead.

  “I’ll live. Just scrapes and bruises that will heal up on their own. Little bitch doesn’t like me, I guess,” Keith said, smirking.

  “She’s an excellent judge of character,” I elbowed Steve, “or she doesn’t like the taste of bull. One of the two.”

  “Both!” Steve said. We all laughed, tension easing a bit.

  Keith and Steve looked a few years younger than me. They were more swamp raised coonass opposed to my years of military polish. Before this swamp went to hell, I barely knew them. When I’d came home, they had been at several of the cookouts and crawfish boils. I remember making a comment that I thought Keith’s sister was hot, but other than that I didn’t know if they had wives, kids, or even a goldfish.

  But after a fight like that, something welded us together. Combat always did. With brothers in arms, it was difficult to offend anyone. In Afghanistan, my squad roasted each other nonstop; moms, sisters, aunts, everything except wives and daughters; no one went there. We called each other homos every chance we got. I didn’t know if Keith or Steve had ever served, but it didn’t matter. They were my crew. Family, for better or worse.

  I turned toward the tree’s trunk. The twisted face embedded in the bark stared back at me…familiar.

  “Do you guys think this face looks like someone we know?”

  Keith swallowed and with a hint of regret he said, “It’s Dorien. He’s one of da EMTs dat came out wit us. Real good dude. I don’t get how he turnt into a tree doe. This is wrong, man. Messed up.”

  “Yeah it is,” Steve added. “Somethin’ out here messin’ with the world real bad, like it don’t know up from down no more. Ain’t no tellin’ whats next, bra, but it sure won’t be normal. Should we say a few words or somethin’?” Steve asked as he sat down next to the tree with the backpacks. “Oh! And we’re completely outta ammo, by da way.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. Everything was messed up. “Did y’all know him well?”

  “Nah,” Keith said. “He was kinda a shut-in unless he was workin’. Damn good EMT, doe.”

  “He cracked some good jokes every now and den when he was out,” Steve said.

  “I tell you what. Let’s go ahead and loot what we can use, and then maybe say a few words for him. We can’t stay here too long, though. Sun’s droppin’.”

  Steve brought out two handcrafted whips, each about ten feet long. “I already got some ‘Snapping Vines’ durin’ da fight. Looks like pretty cool weapons.”

  I looked at him astonished. “How the hel—”

  “Magic,” Keith interrupted. “Duh!”

  These two adapted to death like they’d trained for it. Calm, efficient, unshaken. They handled themselves like seasoned professionals. I was a little surprised, but also relieved my teammates had resilience.

  I examined the tree, trying to figure out where to start. I approached the gaping wound. Something about it tugged at me, urging me to reach inside. Grimacing, at the squelching sound and slimy texture, I plunged my arm in elbow-deep, feeling like a veterinarian on a bad day with a mare.

  “God! I hope I’m not goin’ to hell for this!”

  Contorted into the most awkward position, my fingertips finally brushed something solid. I couldn’t get a good grip on the firm, slippery surface. Stretching onto my tiptoes, I reached deeper like I was fishing for an elephant’s trunk through its backside. With my arm in up to the shoulder, ear pressed to the cool bark, reeking of tree sap and blood, I yanked out a smooth, cannonball-sized glass sphere, dripping gore.

  Wiping the warm surface on my shorts, the ball glowed dimly at its center.

  “What’s dat?” Keith asked.

  “I think it’s a core of some kind. It might be the Whisper Core I saw on the list of possible drops.”

  “Whoa! Dat’s actually kinda cool! I’m kinda wishin’ I woulda played some of dem games Jeremy always played so I could understand all dis stuff.”

  “Keith,” I said, ignoring the mention of Jeremy, “see if you can get the amulet and any other useful ingredients. I’m gonna examine this real quick. Once we’re done, we can level up if available.”

  “Copy, Staff Sergeant!” Keith saluted.

  “Ass,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help but grin. I studied the core until a text box appeared.

  When the tree used ‘Whisper’ on me, my mind slipped away for a moment. Took a vacation to La-la Land. I remember my body relaxing, and I lost the will to fight. Having that power would be a game changer. Could save our lives. And I wanted it.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Yes,” I whispered, staring at the core.

  It floated up slowly, approaching me until it made contact, penetrating my chest. A burp?like pressure rose in my throat, but no pain followed. Energy flowed through me as I absorbed the core like when I added points to stats.

  Knowledge snapped into place. “Man, if cores existed in high school, I’d have passed every test.”

  “What’s da ability?” Steve asked.

  “I can cause confusion on a target for one minute,” I answered.

  “Shoo, Keith’s sister can do dat wit’ da right pair o’ shorts!”

  “Hey!” Keith snapped.

  “The next core goes to one of y’all,” I said. “Sorry I grabbed this one without asking. I wasn’t thinking. I won’t do that again.”

  “Meh,” Steve scoffed. “You did most of da work on it and took most of da risk.”

  “Even though you couldn’t have killed it wit’out us,” Keith added.

  “You’re right, Keith. I think we make a great team. Even with you.”

  We laughed.

  Keith reached into the fleshy mass and pulled out the amulet granting increased armor. We all agreed he should keep it, and Steve should keep the vines. We collected thirty?three spores for future potions, assuming we lived long enough to learn how.

  We stood over Dorien’s mangled and defiled corpse.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you, Dorian,” I started quietly. “You came out here to help me, and you got changed into this…thing…this mutant. I want to believe we set you free from the tree. I don’t know how to do the last rites, but I hope Jesus accepts you into heaven.”

  Keith looked over at Steve. “Remember dat time you and Dorien went to da bar, and he told dat girl he had a mudbug tattoo on his ass?”

  Steve snorted a laugh. “Yeah! She asked to see it, and he dropped his shorts, bent over and spread his cheeks! She said, ‘Gross, there’s no tat there!’”

  Keith finished, “Yeah, and he said, ‘sumbitch musta gone back in its hole!’”

  We laughed hysterically, remembering Dorien the way we thought he would’ve wanted.

  After a few reverent moments, I looked over at Keith and Steve. “Um, can either of you guys level up?”

  “No,” Keith replied, wiping his eyes. “I need like 75 mo’ points.”

  “I need 40,” Steve said and sniffed as started re-packing our things.

  “I got enough for level 5.” I initiated the level up and got four free points which I put into Dexterity and Constitution evenly. Curious if anything else had changed, I pulled up my full information sheet.

  Despite the grim circumstances, this was a welcome development. My abilities improved, and my healing power also leveled up.

  A crash erupted from the bushes.

  “What is going on out here! Are you trying to get killed? What is wrong with you people?”

  “Dad?!?!”