Battalion Banished Read online

  “We can’t take a chance, Meat,” she whispered. “We’ll have to capture those dirtbags alive. Still have that lariat in your inventory?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll sneak up and knock them out. You tie ’em up.”

  He nodded again. Then they waited for the pair to near the Nether portal.

  “. . . mobs are ready at the top of the hill,” Legs was saying in his nasal voice as he hustled along next to Bluedog.

  “It’s too bad Rafe will be caught in the crossfire, but there’s plenty more fools where he came from,” Bluedog said.

  Their talk masked the slight sound of Frida’s feet on the hard-packed clay, but the wolves smelled her. She saw the light of recognition in their eyes when they spotted her, and she gave them a look that begged for their silence.

  With one motion, she scooped up a sharp rock in each hand and lunged at the two criminals, knocking them in the skulls simultaneously. They dropped to the ground like broken armor. The wolves whined but held their ground.

  Hooves thundered, and Turner galloped up on Duff with his lasso in hand. He sprang off and wrapped the rope around both unconscious griefers. “Never could figure out how to work this thing from the saddle,” he muttered.

  Now the wolves began to shudder and lose definition. In the next seconds, Crash and De Vries stood in their place.

  “Are we ever glad to see you,” De Vries said. Crash echoed his sentiment by pulling her pickaxe and chopping at the ground. “We couldn’t just sit around camp after we heard what happened to you. We ‘let’ Bluedog tame us and listened in on everything he said.”

  Turner kicked the motionless man with the toe of his boot. “We just heard him say something about crossfire. They planning a raid?”

  Crash pointed uphill in the direction of the minecart tracks then back toward Spike City.

  Frida eyed Turner. “I’ll bet they’re sending the zombies down this way.”

  “Yes!” De Vries confirmed. “We learned that Lady Craven is preparing for a southern sweep, starting with the ice plains biome. That puts Spike City dead in her sights.”

  “And puts who knows how many good people at risk,” Frida concluded. “We’ve got to let Rafe know!”

  Turner frowned. “He ain’t hardly what you call good.”

  Frida took in Crash and De Vries standing side by side. “But he is my brother. Besides, we’ll want him and these two slimes to live long enough to see the inside of a prison.”

  Bluedog and Legs began to stir.

  Frida had to think quickly again. “Where’re your horses?” she asked Crash, who pointed away toward the hillside.

  “We built them a lovely stable, hidden from view,” De Vries explained.

  Frida glanced around the portal area. “We’ll have to make a stand here to intercept the mobs. You two stay here and dig us a bunker. I’ll take the prisoners with me to Spike City and warn Rafe.” She collected Duff’s reins and handed them to Turner. “Meat, you light out for camp and rally the troops. Bring the TNT and all the other fire power we’ve got. We’ll meet up by dusk.”

  Turner hesitated. “Ya know, Corporal, I outrank you. I should be giving the orders here.”

  Frida sighed. Male egos were so fragile. “All right, Sergeant. You make the call.”

  “Right. Your plan ain’t half bad. Let’s go with it. I’ma head west and alert the captain. You two”—he nodded at Crash and De Vries—“work on that bunker, and stay out of sight if any more griefers show. We’ll all meet back here ASAP.” He stepped into the stirrup of Duff’s saddle and wheeled his horse to the west.

  Crash ran for the hillside and brought Velvet and Roadrunner. She cut both free ends off the lariat with her pickaxe and bound the waking crooks’ hands, then asked her brother for help unraveling the rest of the rope and shoving the two men up on the horses. Bluedog and Legs babbled complaints, which Frida ignored. Taking the mounts’ lead ropes, she jumped up on Ocelot’s back and rode for the ice plains village.

  The cleric was not at the chapel when the three horses trotted up. Frida let them all inside, dropped Ocelot’s reins, and led the other two animals over to the basement entrance.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Legs cried as she butted him in the side. He fell heavily onto the packed-ice floor.

  “Wait,” Bluedog begged. “If you let us go, I’ll give you as many emeralds as you want.”

  Frida took great pleasure in knocking him out of the saddle, as well, seeing no reason to reply. She opened the trap door and pushed the two malcontents into the hold. Then she retreated to the center of the main hall to wait for Rafe.

  The survivalist had overcome her initial anger at her brother’s betrayal. Before talking with Xanto, she had considered his bitterness at being segregated from the family somewhat justified. But now, she saw that the practice of separating the boys from the warrior women benefited both groups. It made the women stronger, and it gave the men free will to choose how best to use their personal gifts. She thought Rafe still had a chance to redeem himself . . . after he got out of prison.

  Frida listened to the ice font dripping over its redstone heat source until she heard footsteps on the frozen floor. She rose and waited in the center of the hall.

  The dishonest priest entered through the vestibule carrying a small bundle. He was surprised to see her.

  “You! But how—?”

  “. . . did I avoid capture again? Your friends Legs and Bluedog are playing checkers down in the basement.”

  Rafe leapt for the entrance, but Frida blocked his path, drawing her iron sword. “You can join them, if you like.”

  He stopped and backed away, tripping over the hem of his purple robe.

  “Or you can do as I say and look forward to a nice, comfy stay in a locked cell. The choice is yours. Just as it was when the clan sent you to the villagers.”

  “Threw me out in the cold, you mean,” he said bitterly.

  Frida shook her head. “We all were free to make our own ways, brother. You chose a dark path.”

  “Which brought me friends in high places.”

  “Ha!” Frida advanced on him with the drawn blade. “Your Lady Craven is about to give you up in exchange for taking another Overworld boundary—and the whole population of Spike City, too. Your . . . friends downstairs were prepared to let you die.”

  This news pooled like spilled milk. “You lie! The boss is sending Legs and Bluedog to shake down the inhabitants for their goods, yes. But she won’t attack the city. And certainly not my safe house.”

  “You misplace your trust, Rafe. And that’s something Mother taught us never to do.” Frida rushed at him and knocked him down. He dropped his bundle and scrabbled for it, but she kicked it away.

  “Be careful with that! It’s—”

  She grabbed it, and feeling a glass bottle through the woolen wrap, tossed it at him.

  “—poison!”

  The bottle broke, dousing Rafe with the contents and dealing him major health damage. His heart bar was likely low already; Frida had a feeling he didn’t eat right or work out much. While he writhed a bit, she drew her lariat from her inventory and wrapped him up tight.

  “You say I have no love for you, but you’re wrong, Rafe. You don’t deserve love, but you are my flesh and blood. You’ll stay here until my friends and I liberate this city from the mobs Lady Craven is sending down from the hills.”

  She reached into her inventory again. “This will keep you safe from them. After that, you’re on your own.” She hung the griefer medallion around his neck. “I expect a UBO posse will come gunning for you before long.” She moved over and collected the horses, pulling herself up into Ocelot’s saddle. “Good-bye, brother. And good luck.”

  *

  When she returned to the portal site, Crash and De Vries were still hard at work. They had carved a bunker in the clay and fortified its top with cobblestone. Then, they’d taken the initiative to dig multiple pit traps among the scattered dr
y spruce trees dotting the hillside. Crash was busy spreading gravel above one of them. De Vries spied Frida and came down to help with the horses.

  “Did you get Bluedog and Legs squared away?” he asked.

  She told him how Bluedog tried to secure his freedom with a bribe.

  “Now that really breaks my clog,” the builder complained. “Those two wouldn’t even throw us a bone after they thought we were tame. It’s the people who have the most that’ll act like they’ve got nothing to spare—until they want something more for themselves.”

  “I’d say you hit the nail on the head with that,” Frida agreed. Then she asked how she could help him and his sister finish work on the fortifications. They led the horses to safety and continued preparing the site for war.

  While Frida altered the dispenser trap configuration to fire manually, she added up the new intelligence. Rafe had been a pawn in everybody’s scheme. The criminal middleman was just a cog in the larger wheel set to roll over every Overworld boundary until Lady Craven controlled it all.

  Who knew whether the griefer queen meant to bulldoze Legs and Bluedog, as well. Or perhaps they intended to escape through their Nether portal, along with their riches.

  Hmm . . . that plan might work for the battalion, instead. They would need some way to secure their resources during the fight. Frida left the dispenser to visit their hidden portal. The hoppers were still in place. All they had to do was reverse the direction that their contents traveled.

  Frida knew the portal might also be a crucial escape hatch to the Nether, if the battle went south. This scenario was way too familiar. But the Zombie Hill attack had been lost due to the captain’s error . . . and she was pretty sure he’d never let that happen again, even if an airplane bound for his ranch in the other world landed right in front of them.

  That was the difference between Rob and Rafe. The cowboy had enough humility to learn from his mistakes. The cleric—at least so far—did not.

  The sun crawled across the sky and hit the western tree line. It was beginning to sink farther when the backup troops rode in. Frida helped Kim untack the horses and mule and get them settled in their hillside stable to rest. They might be pressed into service again. It was going to be long night.

  Kim gave Frida some sugar to distribute. She paused at Ocelot’s stall to stroke the mare’s neck as she munched her treat. They had rarely been apart since Kim had first paired them up. Ocelot had carried Frida safely through battle and through the Nether, and had waited patiently when she’d been held captive. The survivalist realized she had gradually relied more and more on the horse’s steadfast willingness as she fought to survive, stay free, and try to help the rest of the Overworld’s citizens do the same.

  “Say, Kim. You’ve done so much to bring us all together with the horses. We couldn’t have come this far without them.” Frida meant that both as a warrior and a woman. Before, she’d competed with everyone she’d ever met. This was the type of unconditional friendship she’d been missing all her life.

  “It’s called bonding,” Kim said. “If you’re one with your horse, you’re stronger than any two separate creatures could ever be.”

  Frida shot Kim a grateful look. “I won’t forget that.”

  Jools stuck his head in the shallow cave. “Captain wants you both, on the double.”

  The full battalion gathered on a grassy knoll in between the two Nether portals. Captain Rob addressed his troops.

  “Fine work, Vanguard,” he said to Frida. “The intel you and Turner gathered has allowed us to prepare for a sneak attack on the griefer army. Lady Craven is poised to sweep into the southern hemisphere to continue her Overworld invasion.”

  “Won’t be a safe hiding place anymore,” Stormie pointed out.

  “That’s why we’ve got to succeed in advancing and pushing her back to the other side of this mountain.” The captain turned to Jools. “We’ll have to fight in the dark. Can you provide us with night vision potions?”

  Jools nodded. “Already in my brewing inventory.”

  “Artilleryman? Did you finish crafting that TNT cannon?”

  “Negative, Captain. I’m missing a couple parts. But we do have plenty of TNT blocks.”

  “We can fire them from the dispenser,” Frida added, “but we can’t guarantee their trajectory. So we can only count on explosives to take out a whole mob at close range.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Turner said.

  “I’d rather they didn’t get that close,” Jools murmured.

  Crash waved her pickaxe at the hillside.

  “We might break their ranks with our pit traps,” De Vries said.

  Rob nodded. “They’ll be effective. But we have to be ready for long-range and hand-to-hand combat, if necessary.” He took in the group. “Anybody who isn’t in line with that, raise a hand.”

  No one did.

  “Judge?” Rob prompted.

  Judge Tome appeared resolute. He flashed his UBO band. “I’ve renewed my faith in a free Overworld. Let’s do this thing.”

  “I’m going to swear you in, then.” Rob had the three newest recruits rise and pledge loyalty to the battalion and the Overworld. Then he turned to the sergeant at arms. “Turner? Weapons report.”

  Turner rubbed his hands together. “Already in place: seventeen pit traps with gravel slides. We’ll switch out the dispenser arrows for TNT, which Stormie can set off remotely via redstone circuit. Jools’ll give you splash potions of healing and harming, and he’ll enchant a few weapons with bane of arthropods, in case of more silverfish.”

  Turner got up and made his way through the troops, handing out gold boots and leggings to complement their chestplates and helmets. “We’re gonna look stylin’ in matching armor, folks. It ain’t diamond, but it’s the next best thing.” Then he approached Frida. “The battalion thought you should have this.”

  He gave her a finely crafted, double-plated, double-edged sword. One side was gold, the other diamond. She had never seen anything like it.

  “I—don’t know what to say.”

  “Then let the sword do the talking,” Kim urged.

  “What else have you got, Sergeant?” Rob pressed.

  “Thanks to Bluedog’s loot, we’ve got more weaponry than ever before, some of it enchanted: solid and sand blocks for chucking at mobs, short and long bows, stacks and stacks of arrows, and blades of every kind. Anything breaks or you run out of ammo, get back to this supply chest and reload.”

  Rob cleared his throat. “That leads us to our safety net. If I give the signal to retreat, Battalion . . . head for our Nether portal and wait below for instructions. Kim will bring the horses along.”

  Stormie raised a finger. “And if someone . . . dies?”

  The captain grimaced. “Respawn. You can meet up with what’s left of us in the Nether.” He rose. “That’s it. We assume battle stations at dusk.”

  The meeting broke up and folks drifted off to finish lingering tasks. Frida followed Stormie to the dispenser to retrofit it.

  “I’ve got to hand it to Captain,” Stormie said. “He doesn’t back down. This ain’t even his fight.”

  Frida’s throat tightened. “You know, Stormie, he once told me that world boundaries didn’t matter to him. That we’re all just human. He’s made it his fight.”

  “Gal’s gotta respect that.”

  “Well, he . . . cares for you.”

  Stormie slipped her a glance. “Same as the rest of us.”

  Frida paused in rearranging the dispenser inventory. “I saw you two kiss one night. I know it’s you he wants.”

  “Not true. That was one of those convenience kisses. You know, like when you go to a party and make a fuss over someone you know you won’t see again.”

  Frida didn’t know. But Stormie seemed to mean what she was saying. “Are you going somewhere?”

  The adventurer straightened up and stretched her back. “Always, child. Try to, anyway.”

  Now Frida’s heart
skipped a beat. She gave Stormie’s arm a squeeze. “Then let’s free up these borders, huh?”

  *

  As night fell and the moon considered rising, Battalion Zero’s ranks stood for inspection, armored in gold and fortified with night vision potion. Frida’s secret knowledge about Stormie and Rob further bolstered her spirits. The captain designated a battle post for each trooper.

  The main bunker would hold Frida, Turner, and Rob as its frontguard. Judge Tome, De Vries, and Crash would pull second ranks, after a melee had been initiated. Stormie would stand to post near the TNT dispenser, where De Vries had crafted a stone turret from which she could see the mobs’ approach clearly. Jools was stationed near the supply chest, so he could help troopers rearm or regenerate if they were hit. Kim had drawn a roaming position, with orders to safeguard the horses, if necessary.

  “Move out!” Rob called in the dwindling light.

  They took up battle stations and listened.

  Soon the inevitable chorus of the zombies’ lament and the skeletons’ bony drumbeat rang through the mountains of the extreme hills.

  In the bunker, Turner held out a fist. “This is it, ladies and gentlemen!”

  Frida and Rob reached out and pounded it.

  Night vision gave them a daylight view of waves of zombies stomping their way deliberately down the rocky terraces. Every now and then, one lost a lower limb or simply tripped and cartwheeled down the slope to its death. Frida felt the breath stall in her chest as faster-moving skeletons pushed between their hostile brethren and overtook them, running down the hillside. Both mobs were haphazardly armored with whatever the griefers had managed to steal.

  With Legs, Bluedog, and Rafe detained in the city, the battalion enjoyed the element of surprise. Frida wondered who was commanding the legions. Lady Craven had absorbed Dr. Dirt’s powers in the last battle, and it was doubtful that he could respawn. Dingo and the lesser griefers would have neither the experience nor the authority to direct the hostile mobs at their bidding.

  Nevertheless, the monsters appeared to have their orders. Onward they swept, descending from Zombie Hill toward the biome boundary and the unsuspecting inhabitants of Spike City.