Chapter 11: The Grey Gang
1544 Words
“Where are we, Blooby?” Gidon groaned, rubbing his temples as he sat up.
“Blooby . . . bloob . . . drove carriage away from danger,” the machine said in its mechanical monotone. “Blooby drive and drive . . . bloob . . . Blooby don’t know where we are.”
“Wait . . .” Lydia blinked, her glasses crooked as she scrambled to her feet. Her head turned sharply toward the bushes. “Where’s the carriage? Where is my baby?”
“Relax. It’s way over there.” Gidon pointed toward a cluster of shrubs just ahead, where the faint metallic glint of the carriage peeked through the greenery.
Lydia exhaled audibly, her body slumping with relief. “Oh, thank the gods. My baby is safe.” She placed a hand on her chest and began taking deep, deliberate breaths, as though recovering from near suffocation.
“Carriage won’t move,” Blooby said, turning its glowing optics toward her. “Blooby . . . bloob . . . carried everyone out . . . bloob . . . to protect everyone inside.”
“Carried everyone out?” Lydia repeated, her voice rising as realization struck her.
The rest of the group froze, their attention shifting to the towering double doors behind them. Unlike the overgrown brush and earthy tones of the forest surrounding them, the door’s frame was a gleaming silver, etched with glowing ciphers that pulsed faintly in the dim light.
The boss stood silently, his hand brushing the intricate carvings as though trying to decode their meaning. I stood beside him, my heightened senses picking up the faint hum of energy radiating from the door.
“I recently programmed Blooby to use only a month’s worth of his core energy to keep the carriage running in emergencies,” Lydia said, stepping forward and retrieving a sleek device from her pocket. The device resembled a map but glowed faintly with runic symbols that shifted as she moved her fingers across its surface.
Her face paled as the runes stopped shifting, forming words she recognized. “Oh, s**t. He drove us into Gyrange’s Cave.”
“What?” Gidon shot up, his voice echoing off the metallic surface.
“This damn thing,” Lydia muttered, glaring at Blooby. “I thought you were supposed to be smart!”
“It’s my fault,” she admitted, her frustration melting into sheepishness. “I didn’t program him to recognize forbidden locations. I only added that feature yesterday.”
“Here is only safe place from enemy,” Blooby said, his tone unwavering. “Blooby save everyone . . . bloob . . . but everyone angry at Blooby.”
“No, no, my adorable baby!” Lydia cooed, wrapping her arms around the machine’s metallic frame. “You’ve done well.”
‘She must really love that thing,’ I thought, a small smile tugging at my lips.
“What now?” Butcher asked, his deep voice breaking the moment. “No one who’s entered Gyrange’s Cave has ever come out.”
“Gyrange was the greatest magic engineer of all time!” Lydia said, her voice tinged with excitement. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of exploring this place? Even if it meant starving to death inside, I’d die content!” Her eyes sparkled with the thrill of discovery, but I noticed her grip on Blooby tightened—a small, unconscious gesture of unease.
“You’re all mad,” Butcher said, swinging one of his massive axes onto his shoulder. “All of you. Addled in the brain.”
Lydia ignored him, her eyes practically sparkling. “This door leads to the next path. It’s the only way out.”
“And how do you know that?” Gidon challenged, crossing his arms.
“Are you the magic engineer here?” Lydia shot back.
“No, but—”
“Then listen to me.” She placed her hands on her hips. “This is our only way forward.”
“We trust you,” the boss said calmly, silencing further protests. “Lydia, lead the way.”
‘Is this what being in a band feels like?’ I wondered as they rallied behind her.
But as we moved toward the carriage to prepare, a shiver ran down my spine.
‘Something’s coming,’ Naila warned, her voice low and sharp.
I turned quickly, my heightened senses zeroing in on the sound of rustling leaves and heavy footsteps. “They’re coming,” I said, my voice tight.
“What?” Gidon spun around, alarm flashing across his face.
“Forget the carriage,” the boss barked, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Open the door. Now!”
“But my baby—” Lydia’s voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes.
“You still have me!” Gidon quipped.
“Oh, shut up!” Lydia snapped, her hands trembling as she examined the door’s mechanisms.
“How do we open it?” the boss demanded.
“That will take time!”
“How much?”
“I don’t know!” Lydia’s voice trembled with panic. “But first, we have to deal with them.”
Butcher grinned, slamming his axes together. “That’s what I like to hear!” He let out a thunderous war cry, his enthusiasm palpable.
“Enemies find us. Blooby save nobody. Blooby save nobody. Blooby—”
“It’s fine, Blooby,” Lydia said quickly, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. “You saved us.”
“Blooby loves master . . . Blooby hates Gidon,” the machine said, turning to glare at him.
“Right back at you, you junk pile,” Gidon shot back, though his grin faltered as the approaching creatures came into view. “Wait . . . what sort of hideous looking creatures are those?”
A knot of dread tightened in my stomach as the figures emerged from the shadows.
The creatures were repulsive hybrids of apes and ogres, their thick, matted fur covering sinewy, muscular bodies. Their faces were twisted, with flat, wide noses and jagged yellow teeth. In their hands, they carried weapons that didn’t match their savage appearance—spears, shields, and crude swords that gleamed with a terrifying precision.
The larger ones, hulking masses of raw power, hefted maces as though they weighed nothing.
They moved with unnerving coordination, their primal cries forming a chilling rhythm. Some split into flanking groups, their weapons glinting as they prepared to attack.
“These things are intelligent?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The group’s panic was heavy as the monsters closed in, their horrifying forms becoming clearer. Lydia, peering through her thick glasses, pointed at them, her voice laced with disbelief. “Those are orc-monkeys,” she said. “They’re known for their intelligence—closer to humans than animals.”
“How intelligent?” Gidon asked, his tone both curious and wary.
“Intelligent enough to wield weapons and, apparently, use poison gas,” Lydia replied, her voice grim. “They must’ve put the gas in the carriage before we left Nivel.”
“What?” Gidon exclaimed. “You’re telling me they planned this all the way back in the village?”
“Yes,” I interjected, my voice steady despite the racing of my heart. “And if that’s true, Nivel isn’t safe anymore.”
The boss turned to me, his expression unreadable. “Do you want to go back?” he asked.
“No!” The word escaped me like a shout, startling everyone. “I’m becoming a Watcher. Nothing—not them, not anyone—will stop me.”
The determination in my voice surprised even me, but I felt a stab of guilt as the thought of Marie’s sweet smile came to mind. If anything happened to me—or to Father—what would she do? But guilt wouldn’t save them. I couldn’t turn back now. The High Priestess would protect the village—I was sure of it. She was powerful enough to keep my father and Marie out of harm’s way.
I had to trust her—and myself—to see this through.
As for Celene and my stepsiblings, I couldn’t bring myself to care. If anyone deserved to be left to the mercy of monsters, it was them.
The boss nodded slowly, as though weighing my resolve. “If that’s your decision,” he said, “then we press forward.”
Lydia pointed at the approaching orc-monkeys. “See their weapons? Crooked swords, shields from tree trunks, even maces. They don’t just hunt—they strategize.”
‘And they’re coming,’ Naila growled in my mind, her voice sharp with warning.
“Butcher, get ready,” the boss ordered, his tone steady.
“Gladly,” Butcher said, his grin widening.
The orc-monkeys charged, their savage cries echoing through the cavern.
“They dominate the deepest parts of the Evil Forest,” Lydia said, her voice shaking slightly. “They shouldn’t be here.”
“Then let’s send them back,” the boss growled, stepping forward. “Grey Gang! Let’s send them all to hell.”
- Writer
