Tycoon May: Chapter 25 (Patreon)

Chapter 25

Rolling through the gate felt almost anticlimactic after his visit.  There were no monster hordes, and no teams of guards ready to chase him away.  The blasted and hilly lands surrounding the city were barren, with only the occasional scraggly tree poking up to break up the monotony.  To the north, mountains huddled against the horizon like hunched beggars waiting in a dark alley.  Cutting the land in half was the river Grant had crossed, a flowing blue ribbon of water that from a distance looked like the only clean spot in the entire District.  South was more blasted lands, with the hills giving way to pockmarked rolling plains.  Everywhere felt foreboding, and a distant cloudbank they marched toward rumbled with promises of thunder and rain.

Grant only had to keep an eye on their back trail, which for most of the day consisted of watching the city grow smaller as other groups left the gates.  There had been one wagon train before them, and one after.  The wagon trains before and after took the more heavily-traveled southern road that curved toward hazy flatlands, while they were taking a northerly trail that had the fog-shrouded mountains in the distance.  Before the city disappeared behind a hill, Grant thought he saw a group of figures on foot take the same trail they were on, but it was hard to tell with the setting sun in his eyes.

“Any sign of a monster pack picking up our trail?”  Evander had been jogging up and down the muddy road the whole afternoon, spending a few minutes talking with each person as he went.  Grant had done his best to ignore him, pretending to put all of his focus on his job.  “Or maybe you just see them as mobile food buffets instead?”

“There haven’t been any monsters.”  Grant looked down at the talkative giant of a man.  “You know, I’m not making up the fact that monsters are both delicious and nutritious.  This District is the only one where people think they are poisonous.”

Evander hopped up on the rear of the wagon, balancing on the edge so he could more easily talk with Grant.  “Why would people lie about something like that?  All it does is cut down on the amount of food there is to go around.”  Grant didn’t reply.  He only raised an eyebrow and looked steadily into the larger man’s eyes.  “Okay, let’s say someone spread the lie, and after enough time people took it as truth.  How would you convince people that it is safe to eat after all this time?”

“That’s easy.  Just give them some.  When they don’t die, they’ll know the truth.”  Grant fished out a strip of some kind that was left over from his time in District April.  It was seasoned with spices meant to enhance its flavor, and Grant had been saving it to use in a stew.  “Here.  Try it.”  He held it out for Evander, who flinched back like it was a dagger aimed for his face.  “Or not.  I understand if you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid!”  Evander snatched it out of his hand and bit off a chunk before tossing it back to him.  “See?  I’m fearless!”  He quickly chewed and swallowed, visibly turning green as it slid down his throat.  “Um, is it supposed to make my mouth burn?”

Grant laughed before taking his own bite.  “That’s just the spices coating it.  They preserve the meat longer, and make it taste better.”  He offered it back to Evander.  “You know, like how spices work in literally everything else?”

Evander waved it away.  “I’m good.  Not that I’m afraid of eating more or anything.  I’m not used to meat, so I’m giving my body a chance to get used to it.”  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, quietly mumbling to himself as they continued bouncing down the road.  After a few minutes, Evander seemed to relax.  “Well, I don’t feel like I’m going to die.”

“Because you’re not.”  Grant checked the clouds to their front, gauging the time before they were going to run into the heavy rain.  “How about this?  If it’s dry enough that we can light a fire, I’ll cook when we stop for the night.  That way, you can get as many portions of monster meat as you want.”

Evander winced, looking toward the front of the column.  “Uh, I would say yes, but it isn’t my decision.  You’ll have to talk with Sam or Adria about something like that.”  He hopped down from his perch, nimbly keeping his feet.  “I’ll talk to you later, I have some things to do before we stop soon.”

Grant watched him go with a smile on his face.  <You know they aren’t going to believe you right away.  There’s no sense in pushing the issue.>  Grant nodded in agreement at Sarge’s statement.

“That’s true, but it is fun to see him freak out like that.”  Grant reached into his pouch to pull out a sizable hunk of centipede meat.  “I’ll just make a meal for myself, and anyone brave enough to give it a try will be welcome to try some.”  He put it back in his pouch after rubbing some salt from his pouch on it.  “It should go well with some carrots, corn, and brussel sprouts.  I’m sure I can scrounge those up somewhere.”

After checking one last time that their trail was clear, Grant hopped down to stretch his legs and ask around for the ingredients.  Not long after the lead wagon pulled off the trail onto a relatively flat spot nearby.  There weren’t enough wagons to make a full circle, so they ended up making more of a tight arc with the open side facing the road.  Everyone quickly got to work unhooking the animals, while the perimeter guards started setting up a series of tripwires that would serve as an early-warning system if anything went undetected and managed to get close enough to threaten the convoy.

“Listen up!”  Adria’s shout caused everyone’s focus to shift to the center of the group.  “The storm looks like it will hit us in less than an hour, so drivers, make sure you prioritize waterproofing any grain sacks that might be ruined by the moisture.  Everyone else, make sure you rotate through your shifts properly.  Bad weather is no excuse for bad security.”

The camp came together quickly, and a few tarps were even strung between some of the wagons to create a roof of sorts.  Everyone seemed subdued as lightning lit up the skies overhead, and a hushed silence settled over everyone as the rain started falling in sheets.  It cut visibility down to almost nothing, turning everything outside the wagons into a mystery.

Grant somehow managed to find an unoccupied corner of covered ground and secured a share of firewood.  Their camping spot was raised enough that they didn’t have to worry about water running through the camp, and the wind was thankfully weak enough that it didn’t immediately soak the wood he was trying to light.  Soon, a small fire was crackling and hissing as a pot of water was boiling over the open flames.  Most of the people around him weren’t even being shy at watching as he dropped in the hunk of centipede meat with a small portion of the spiced jerky.

The smell of the spices quickly wafted through the camp despite the heavy rain, and Grant dropped in the vegetables needed to finish the meal.  He sat back and waited for it to boil down while everyone else lined up for a bowl of what the caravan was providing.  From where he was sitting, it looked like oatmeal with carrots in it.

“I’m definitely not eating whatever that stuff is.  I don’t think even meat could save it.”  He shuddered, thinking about the horrors that had graced his taste buds in the past, mostly while in District February.  “Depression-flavored oats might be worse than sadness pancakes.”

<You are so dramatic.>  Sarge laughed as Grant's face screwed up in indignation.  <Oh, don’t give me that.  Your never-ending obsession with food is why it took you so long to get into shape in the first place.>

“That’s because I respect myself, and I deserve good food.”  Grant stirred the pot as they both laughed.  “You know Sarge, it’s hard to believe it’s been less than five months since I picked you up.”

<A lot has changed, hasn’t it?>  Sarge suddenly vibrated, causing Grant to jerk to the side.

“What is it?”  He almost knocked over his pot of food as he spun in place.  “You only do that when something bad is about to happen.”

<I’m… not sure.  I thought I caught the aura of a Wielded Weapon sneaking up on the camp, but now it’s gone.>  Sarge grumbled a bit, and lightning lit up the area for a brief moment.  There wasn’t anything in sight that shouldn’t be there.  <Just keep your eyes open.  I don’t usually make mistakes like that.>

“Sure, I’ll keep my eyes open, not that I can see much with the storm.”  Grant stirred his pot before tasting a portion.  “Food’s almost done.”

As the smells of his cooking spread throughout the camp, he started getting more attention.  It was obvious the rumor that he ate monster meat had spread through the wagon train, and most people watched him with either revulsion or fear.  Grant spooned up a large helping and took a long sip of the thick broth.

Sam made his way over and sat down next to Grant.  “Ah, it looks like you aren’t dead yet.”  He picked up the ladle and stirred around what was in the pot.  “You have everyone talking about this, you know.  Personally, I’ve never understood how every monster could be poisonous.  Do you have a list of the kinds that are safe to eat?”

Grant scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.  He didn’t like correcting Sam.  Somehow, it just felt wrong.  “Actually, it’s kind of the opposite of that.  There are only a few monsters that are poisonous, and those are pretty obvious.  Almost all of them are edible.”  He took a bite of his stew.  “There are even some that are downright delicious.”

Frowning, Sam leaned forward to sniff at the pot.  It saved his life.  A crossbow bolt flashed through the space his head had just been in, slapping into the wagon behind them with a crack.  Sam froze, looking up with wide eyes as Grant leapt to his feet, deflecting another bolt aimed at his chest.  The group erupted, and Evander ran into the darkness with his maul raised high, shouting at the top of his lungs, “We’re under attack!”