From Moving Crates to Killing Gods-Chapter 99: Jim and Coll

The two days moved fast.

I barely had time to pull everyone aside and explain the mission, eat a decent amount of meat, sleep more than four hours, and spend one afternoon watching birds with Kira while she pointed out which ones she had named and which ones she hated.

She seemed in a much better mood than she had been during the outpost runs. Probably because here she could take regular baths.

The second day arrived and none of us were late, which I took as a sign that Damian’s morning alarm had successfully traumatized everyone equally.

The beeping tore through the room at the usual hour, loud enough to wake something dead. I sat up before my eyes were fully open, pulled on my clothes, gave Wip a strip of dried meat and kept one for myself. She took hers and immediately climbed onto my head to eat it, which was something I had decided to stop fighting.

I met Kira in the hallway on the way down.

"Have you thought about what you are going to tell Damian?" she asked without a greeting.

"About what?" I asked.

She looked pointedly at the small creature sitting on my head.

"I forgot she existed for a moment." I admitted.

"You forgot your pet existed." Kira said flatly.

"I was eating."

Kira glanced up at Wip, who had finished her meat and was now grooming one ear with intense concentration and a surprising amount of dignity. "So what are you going to say."

"Passive mob." I said with a shrug. "Found her in the wasteland. She is calm. Emotional support."

Kira looked like she wanted to argue, then decided it was not worth the effort.

The general room on the bottom floor was already occupied when we arrived. Finn stood near the far wall looking like he had slept in his clothes. Coco sat cross legged on a crate, eyes half closed... actually, fully closed. And Phinyx leaned against a support post with his hands in his pockets, probably the most relaxed person within three floors.

Then there were the two I recognized but had never actually worked beside.

Coll looked exactly like he did in the hallways. Tall, broad, with the amount of hair that was supposed to be on his scalp, on his chin. He had the easy warmth of someone who had survived enough things to stop being afraid of new ones. He was already grinning when I walked in, as if joining a group of young Ones for a wasteland construction project was the most entertaining invitation he had received all year.

Jim was the opposite.

He stood slightly apart, perfectly composed, every line of his green hair exactly in place. When I entered he pushed his glasses up with one finger and his expression did not change. It had the precise neutrality of someone who had already formed an opinion and was choosing not to share it yet. The kind of person who probably had a notebook where he rated everyone’s competence on a scale of one to ten. I was guessing I wasn’t scoring well.

Then Damian walked in.

He scanned the room once, opened the map across the nearest flat surface, and started giving instructions. The path for the corridor, silver supply routes, priority zones.

Then he looked up and stopped.

Everyone in the room had the good sense to stay very still.

Damian was looking at my head.

Wip looked back at him with her large black eyes. She had finished grooming and now sat upright, ears forward, tail wrapped neatly around her paws. She looked almost professional.

Almost.

"That." Damian said, pointing.

"Passive mob." I replied calmly. "Found her in the wasteland, she follows me."

There was a short pause.

"She is sitting on your head." Damian said.

"She finds it comfortable."

Wip chose that moment to make a small sound that was not quite a bark and not quite anything else. Something between contentment and a declaration of territory.

"Wwiip."

Damian stared at her for three full seconds. Then he looked at me. Then he went back to the map with the expression of a man who had decided this was someone else’s problem.

"As I was saying." He continued.

Across the room, Coco was very clearly trying not to smile.

Finn grabbed the map the moment Damian finished. He held it close, tilted it slightly, and nodded twice to himself with the focused look of someone translating landmarks into something he could feel rather than read.

"I think I can track this part." He said quietly, pointing. "Maybe from here to here... I am not sure about this section though."

"You will manage." Damian replied, which from him sounded dangerously close to encouragement.

We picked up our packs and headed for the exit. Coll fell into step beside me almost immediately, matching my stride with casual ease.

"Good to finally work a real job." He said pleasantly. "The Spire gets quiet."

"Give it an hour." I said. "The wasteland usually fixes that."

He laughed, a real laugh with no performance in it.

Jim, walking two steps behind us, did not laugh. He adjusted his glasses instead.

We had almost reached the outer barrier when I heard a comment. Clearly enough that I was definitely meant to hear it.

"I have seen many exile groups." Jim said in a flat, analytical tone. "None of them ever came back. And now we are supposed to follow one that did and trust he can actually kill a Corruptor." He paused briefly. "A child who plays with a yo-yo."

The yo-yo comment was a nice touch. Specific and personal. He had clearly done his research.

Coll said nothing. Finn kept walking. Coco blinked slowly like a cat that had heard something mildly interesting.

I pushed through the barrier and stepped into the morning air of the wasteland.

Behind me I heard Jim adjust his glasses one more time as he followed.

Fine.

He wanted proof.

The wasteland was very good at providing opportunities for that.