Memories (The Pack)

Chapter 31

Warnings: None

     ~Vikk's P.O.V.~

A few days later...

     The twang of the bow string and the dull thunk signifies that my arrow found its mark. The chicken squawks in pain, flashing red and vanishing in a puff of smoke, a piece of chicken and one lone feather in its place.

    "That's twenty-five, I win." I beam, scooping up the raw chicken and fluffy white feather into my inventory, Mitch and Jerome flanking me.
    "Yeah yeah, good job, we're all proud of you." Mitch states dismissively, acting as though the fact I just beat him in an archery competition doesn't faze him.

     After all, it's clear that Mitch is the best archer within the six of us, and he knows it too. Losing in a hunting competition, bows being the only weapon allowed, must've been a blow to his ego.

     Jerome's mouth forms into a knowing smirk, "You sure you're not just jealous?"
     Mitch's eyes revert smugly to Jerome, "You sure you didn't purr back in the swamp?"

     Jerome's jaw snaps shut and his eyes go downcast. Mitch and I snicker at the flustered bacca.

     "Jokes and reputation aside," I continue, breaking off the topic, "We have more than enough food to bring back to everyone else. So let's get on with the mining before nightfall."

     Mitch and Jerome nod, both of them seemingly happy that the teasing conversation had ended. To be honest, I'm glad too, but I make a point not to show it. Because I can recall a handful of times that weren't my most... Flattering moments, to say the least.

     Together the six of us made a decision that before we attempt another mutant fight, we'd stack up on supplies and food. Lachlan, Rob, and Preston volunteered to stock up on wood and hunt down some potions. Mitch, Jerome, and I then were given the tasks of hunting for food and mining for resources. For this we headed out into the plains. Of course on our quest for food, Mitch proposed a competition between myself and him. Bows only, and first to twenty-five kills wins. Mitch probably expected to win, but in the end I ended up victorious by a mere two points. Jerome opted out of the competition, instead downing mobs with his axe and then fishing for himself whenever he saw some water. And the reason for groups of three is because... Well... It's pretty obvious really.

"Look, there's a cave over there. Should we check it out?" Jerome proposes, pointing to a gaping cave entrance a few blocks away.
"Sounds good Biggums."
"Biggums?" Jerome and I question in unison, raising an eye brow.
Mitch shrugs, "Maybe that's something I used to call you, it just kinda seemed like the thing to say."
"Well I guess over the time we knew each other we probably gave ourselves nicknames... So it makes sense." I nod, adding in quietly, "Even if it sounds ridiculous."

So with that we make our way over to the mine, rearranging our inventories so that we'll have our pickaxes, torches, food, and weapons at the ready. Stepping into the shadowed cavern, almost instantly a spider lunges from the darkness with a vicious hiss. I don't even flinch, swiftly yet calmly sticking out my sword so the spider impales itself through the abdomen. The spider flashes red and hisses, withering away and a spider eye popping into my inventory. The constant battling with mutants has sharpened my reflexes and battle skills.

     "Mitch, you're on torch duty. As easy as the normal mobs here are to kill, they're still annoying."
"On it."

A flaming torch pops into Mitch's hand and he latches is onto the wall, the gloomy cave immediately brightening. My eyes drift over to a patch on the ground where some of the stone is coloured with black flecks. Coal... Not the most valuable resource but it's still something. I note, hacking my pickaxe into the mineral a few times, a lump of coal replacing the block after the fourth strike. Out of the corner of my eye I watch as Jerome drills into a small vein of iron, and Mitch lights up the area with multiple torches.

As we continue down the mine, gathering and visible ores, a zombie eventually lumbers into view, two more flanking it. I exchange a glance with both Mitch and Jerome, who in turn nod and pull out their respective weapons. Mitch notches an arrow and it plunks in between the mobs eyes, instantly killing it. Jerome whips out Betty and throws hurls it at the zombies head, the blade lodging itself in the zombies skull. And with one zombie left standing, I use my teleportation powers to pop up behind it, shoving my sword through its stomach from behind. Yanking the sword out, the zombie gurgles in pain, falling forward and a piece of rotten flesh taking its place. The very moment I stop down to grab the putrid flesh, I feel it.

     "What's wrong Vikk?" Jerome questions, sensing the tense aura I give while straightening out, forgetting about the piece of flesh.
     "Are there more mobs?" Mitch continues, starting to load another arrow.
     "...I feel it. The mutant I'm supposed to fight... It's down there."

     Mitch and Jerome's eyes follow as I raise my arm to paint ahead of us. The cave at this point gradually slopes down before dropping sharply off, and with the added darkness, it gives the effect of a bottomless pit. As if the sight wasn't unnerving enough, an eerie groan from a zombie sounds from deep within the pit, echoing ominously. A shiver runs down my spine, and I can feel the goosebumps forming on my skin.

     "That place has death written all over it." Mitch mumbles uneasily, gazing into the darkness.
     I nod in agreement. "And unfortunately, that's where we're headed next."
     "Well there's absolutely no way we're going down there without Preston, Rob, and Lachlan. It's going to be dark soon, and unless we want to spend the night in this freaky cave, let's start heading back and tell everyone else."
     "Don't have to ask me twice." Mitch states, his bow vanishing into the depths of his inventory as he starts back up the mine.

     While Jerome seems to be captivated by the intimidating drop-off, I quickly trail after Mitch. But upon realizing he's being left behind, Jerome jumps up in alarm.

     "Wait for me!" He cries, stumbling to catch up with us.

~~~