Book 3: Chapter 2: No Safety Net

Book 3: Chapter 2: No Safety Net

The wide world spread out before Carmen, and all she could think of was the city she’d just left behind. However, as she clutched her son’s hand, she wouldn’t allow herself to look back. Even as she heard the guards of Easton chuckling and jeering, she refused to give them – or Roman – the satisfaction of appearing hesitant. So, with her shoulders straight and her back unbent, Carmen strode into the wilderness.

Beside her, still trembling, was her son, Miguel. She could well understand his fear, after what he’d been through. After being abducted by the villainous Outlaw Trace, the boy had been dragged across miles of terrain then thrown at the feet of the man who’d murdered his other mother, Alyssa. Due to reasons Carmen still hadn’t wrapped her mind around, Roman had chosen to spare Miguel. What’s more, he hadn’t killed Carmen or Colt, either. Instead, he’d merely exiled them.

Yet, that was as good as a death sentence, especially given that none of them had any equipment. So, that was the first order of business.

“Do you know of anywhere that hasn’t been picked clean?” she asked, turning to Colt Marsters, her loyal right-hand man. Somewhere during his own captivity, he’d been stripped of his armor, duster, and the katana he normally wore on his hip. But the most striking difference – even more than the hand they’d taken – was the absence of his cowboy hat. Without it, he looked almost naked.

The man ran his remaining hand through his thinning hair and drawled, “Might be something to the west. Back when I was still runnin’ with the city’s scavengers, most everybody avoided that.”

“Why?” Carmen asked. Early on, she’d participated in her fair share of patrols, but those had been focused on keeping the city clear of dangerous beasts. It had been years since she’d actually gone scavenging, save for when she’d helped harvest a Corvette’s engine for a few bits of titanium she’d used to construct her hammer.

That had been lost, too. So had the forge she’d worked so hard to build. All her other projects, as well. She felt lost, adrift in a sea of danger for which she was ill-prepared to confront. But as had been the case since Earth had been touched by the World Tree, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the path before her.

They needed equipment. Food. Water. And shelter.

Everything else – including maudlin thoughts of everything she’d lost in the past couple of weeks – would have to wait for later.

“There’s a couple of territorial beasts in that direction,” Colt said. “But it’s mostly ‘cause of the Marauders. They don’t always set up shop out that way, but when they’re there, they’re nothin’ to mess with.”

Like everyone else in Easton, Carmen knew of the Marauders. They were a small gang who were reputed to make a living hijacking the few trade caravans that ran between the city and its allies. At one point, Carmen might have wondered why nobody had ever done anything about it, but now that she knew the depths Roman would sink to in order to protect his city – or rather, his rule – she suspected that they’d made some sort of deal in exchange for virtual immunity.

Or perhaps Roman simply didn’t care enough about what amounted to a minor and easily avoidable inconvenience for his merchants and traders. Whatever the case, they were a persistent threat, and one that could work both in their favor and to endanger their quest to survive.

“Should we risk it?” she asked, well aware that there were nearly fifteen other people following her. That was all that was left of her followers. The rest had either been killed during the pitifully ineffective rebellion, or they’d turned coat.

Not that Carmen would blame them for the latter. Everyone had to live in the real world, and that often meant compromising one’s ideals in order to survive. If she had been given that same option, perhaps she would have taken it.

Of course, Carmen was honest enough with herself to recognize the lie she’d just tried to tell herself. No matter what rewards were on offer, she would never let Roman’s actions go unaddressed. He had killed her wife, betrayed her in the most vile way possible. Carmen could not forgive or ignore that, even if it meant that she would end up on the wrong end of the sword she’d been forced to forge.

“Mom...”

Carmen looked to her son, asking, “What is it, mijo?”

“Did he really...he really killed her, didn’t he?”

Carmen stopped. They were far enough from the gate by that point that the guards couldn’t see her. Then, she knelt in front of him and looked up. “When did you get so big?” she muttered.

It was a good question. She’d been so wrapped up in everything else – from getting the Silverado mining operation off the ground to the planned rebellion – that she hadn’t paid nearly enough attention to the one member of her family that had survived.

Well – that wasn’t necessarily true. Elijah was still out there, and while he wasn’t her blood, he was still family. And for as long as she’d known him, he’d treated her like a sister. No – he was as good as her blood, and judging by the power rankings, he was still alive and doing well enough.

Regardless, she couldn’t focus on a man she likely would never see again. With how Earth had grown and been rearranged, he could be on the other side of the world. Elijah was alive, but for now, that fact was irrelevant to her situation. By contrast, Miguel was right there in front of her. That was what mattered.

That and the people who’d put their trust in her, erroneous though that choice had proven.

“Did he?” Miguel persisted, ignoring her previous question.

She sighed. “He did,” Carmen stated.

Miguel’s face contorted with rage. “I’m going to kill him,” he announced. “I am. I don’t know how, but I’m gonna get a good class and...and I’m gonna kill him.”

“Mijo...”

“Kid, you ain’t killin’ nothin’ right now,” Colt interjected. “You remember what we talked about, right? Keep your eyes on what’s in front of you. Do you know what that is right now?”

But that didn’t make sense.

If she wanted to equip her people as quickly as possible – and with weapons they could use more easily and efficiently – spears were the better choice. Not only would they require much less metal, but the barrier for basic mastery was much lower than a sword or dagger.

She looked up at the other gathered refugees. “I need a bunch of sticks. About four to six feet long. As straight as you can find,” she said. “Colt!”

The man poked his head through the door, asking, “Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you know how to use a spear?”

“I know which end’s deadly,” he answered. “Why?”

“Because you’re in charge of teaching everyone the basics.”

Then, she sent him to supervise the stick-gathering operation. Meanwhile, she used Bond to meld the screws, one after another, into a series of billets. Once that was done, she went outside and used her latest ability:

Smolder

Use Ethera to heat metal when a forge is not available.

Then, she placed the first billet on a rock, manifested a hammer with Summon Tool, and went to work shaping the first spearhead. It was quick work, especially with her Strength and the ability to keep the metal hot. Still, it wasn’t ideal. Normally, she would have used Decontaminate as well as Refine Material to ensure the metal was perfect. Yet, if she did that, she would lose quite a bit of mass, and given that the box of screws wouldn’t provide a surplus of raw metal, she needed those contaminates, if for no other reason than to ensure she had enough spearheads to arm everyone.

For similar reasons, she chose not to use Shape, though that was a question of ethera rather than material. It was a very useful ability, but the ethera cost meant that it was best used for detail work rather than rough shaping. And considering that a simple spearhead only needed the rough work, she didn’t think it was the best option.

So, she continued on, refining the shape the old-fashioned way – with hammer and heat – until she’d created a six–inch, leaf-shaped spearhead. It was rough, and it wasn’t sharp, but she had a plan for that. First, though, she wanted to finish with the other blades.

Gradually, she did just that, creating more than a dozen nearly identical spearheads. By the time that was done, night had fallen and Colt and the others had returned with a bundle of appropriate shafts. So, they retreated inside, where they ate in relative silence before Carmen went on to the next step.

Using Shape, she ran the first blade between her thumb and forefinger. She didn’t remove any material. Instead, she applied pressure and her ability to narrow the metal until it was sharp.

It wasn’t a razor, but it was enough to kill. And that was the best she could do under the circumstances.

After the first spearhead, the process was a little easier, and that pattern continued right until the last one. There was a point when she’d have considered such a task beneath her. After all, she was the highest-level crafter in Easton. She was on the power ladder. She was special, and making spearheads failed to capitalize on her advantages. But now, she realized that there was no such thing as a mundane task. Not if she wanted to be the best crafter possible. If that was her goal, then she needed to approach each project – regardless of how tedious – like it was intended to be a masterpiece. Anything else, and she would stagnate.

For now, though, she just needed to arm her people. So, once the blades were finished, she manifested a knife with Summon Tool, which she used to shape the sticks into spear shafts. Half of them weren’t appropriate for the job – they were either too thin or bent – but the others had gathered more than enough, so Carmen had plenty to work with. And over time, she managed to create fourteen shafts.

After that, she notched one end of the shafts before shoving the blades into place. After that, she used a combination of Bond and Shape to ensure that they wouldn’t become dislodged.

And just like that, she had fifteen spears. However, she did take a little extra time to add some rudimentary embellishments to each – carving an artful whorl into the shafts – before enchanting them by etching a symbol into each side of the blade. As she did, she used Minor Enchantment, focusing on durability for one, then sharpness with the other.

When she’d finished the first, she received a surprising notification:

Congratulations! You have created a unique item [Simple Spear].

Overall Grade: Crude (Peak)

Enchantment Grade: F

If Carmen had been honest with herself, she would have expected the spears to be ungraded. However, she wouldn’t have been surprised to reach the lowest reaches of Crude-Grade. But to come so close to Simple-Grade was shocking, considering the poor quality of materials she’d been forced to work with.

She sighed.

Perhaps they were just due some good fortune. It would be the first bit of good luck in a long time, but she hoped it would be a pattern. With that in mind, she went to work duplicating the feat.