Chương 83: CDM 2, Chapter 19: Company Car

"We need a van," Nathan said from the backseat as we bounced down an old road toward our first collective SOC.

"And I still think that shotgun was rightfully mine."

"This is your first hunt," Megan replied.

"You have to work your way up."

"I've been riding shotgun with Dorion for years. I have seniority."

"Not on hunts, you don't."

"Then we definitely need a van. And snow tires. If there was any more snow than this, there's no way the D-wagon gets very far." Megan turned slowly.

"Did you say 'D-Wagon?'""Yeah, the Dorion Wagon."

"I had nothing to do with that name," I added.

"I know," Megan replied.

"He's not wrong about snow tires."

"Let's not talk about spending more money," I pleaded. My stomach still churned every time I thought about my credit card debt. Nathan shifted in his seat again.

"Don't forget this is basically my office now. My performance will improve with the proper workplace resources."

"I take everything back," Megan said.

"Bringing you was a mistake." We were on our way to a goblin SOC that we hoped was relatively small, but the drive was long, two and a half hours one way. Megan suggested the winter weather might be to blame, but our options for SOCs were far fewer than usual. If we were really optimistic, we could potentially argue that our getting to a few goblin nests a little earlier than the EPA curtailed the usual spread. I didn't think we had killed nearly enough goblins for that to be true, but it was a nice thought.

This particular SOC was a relatively isolated farmhouse, which sounded like a good testing ground for our new drone party member. Lots of windows. A combination of wide open spaces and indoor environments. And a parking place that was relatively close without being vulnerable. The driveway from the road to the farmhouse had washed out to become a small ravine, so we were going to have to walk to the house from the road. While Megan and I geared up, Nathan unpacked the drone and set up his laptop.

"What did you do?" Megan asked with a tired, defeated voice. The drone we bought had the shape of an upside-down school bus and had four propellers with the camera mounted to the front. A spherical mesh cage surrounded the whole of the drone so small mistakes didn't turn into expensive crashes. If Nathan bumped into a wall at a slow speed, the cage would absorb the impact, flexing gently to distribute the force while still keeping the propellers out of danger.

He couldn't pinball through a cave, but if he flew slowly enough, a small mistake wouldn't be a disaster. Those propellers were virtually silent, so I didn't hear Nathan fly the drone toward me. When I noticed it, I turned, looked the camera dead in the lens, and burst out laughing. The body of the drone was the factory-standard bright white plastic, which Nathan intended to repaint something less eye-catching after this hunt. The two googly eyes he added to the front were not factory standard.

"Meet your new party member, Kimmy," Nathan said.

"I love it. I think viewers will too. Megan, you don't like it?"

"It caught me by surprise, is all," she answered.

"I like it." Nathan pushed an earpiece into my hand and gave one to Megan as well. He added, "I thought these might be a good idea."

"Wow," I replied.

"I should have thought of that. What good is a drone without good radios?"

"That's why you got me and Kimmy," Nathan said.

"I'm expecting I'll be the only one talking most of the time. I can't come running to save the day, but you can ask me to look at something specific if you need to." Megan nodded.

"Yeah, this will be a lot of us listening." She donned her helmet and turned her camera on.

"Hi everybody. Meet our newest party member: Kimmy." The drone hovered up to her eye level.

"We got tired of going in blind, so Kimmy is our scout. Kimmy, run ahead and let us know what you see." We watched Nathan's laptop screen as he zipped down the driveway. It passed through a wooded area briefly before opening to acres of farmland left untended for years. The farmhouse itself was a classic design with white siding and a big front porch, but only flakes of the paint remained, and half the porch had collapsed in on itself, taking a chunk of the porch roof with it.

A pickup truck and a beater sedan were parked out front. They hadn't moved since the recent snowfall, but they didn't look totally abandoned either. Did someone live here? Goblin footprints suggested that they came and went through the front door regularly, but I didn't see any tracks that were human. The drone circled the house. Three abandoned engines sat in the middle of the yard, collecting snow. Grayed, warped lumber wrapped in weeds sat against the house.

Out back was a chicken coop and what was left of an old barn. Stolen novel; please report. We saw goblin tracks here too, but in much greater volume. They split off to enter the woods at several different points.

"Turn on thermal," I said.

"See what's in the house."

"It's not x-ray vision," Nathan replied, flipping to thermal anyway.

"The house is a little warmer than its surroundings, so that's a good sign that something is inside, but I can't see through walls. I need to look through a window like a proper peeping Tom." The drone flew low to get an angle on the first-floor windows, switching back to a normal view. The wooden floorboards were a mess. Most of them had fallen into the basement already. Drifting closer to the window, Nathan flipped back into thermal vision.

Two goblins were in the basement collecting scrap for firewood, and one was walking up the stairs. Repeating the process for the second floor, we saw that all rooms were empty except for one, but we couldn't see into that one. Rugs and carpets had been hung over any doors going in as well as the two exterior windows.

"Insulation," Nathan said.

"Most of the goblins are probably in there where it's warmer." I put my helmet on.

"I really like having this intel. So much better than going in blind."

"I agree," Megan echoed. Having Nathan in our ears as we approached was also a comfort. He didn't say much, but that meant nothing about the battle variables had changed, like the goblins spotting our approach. The overall hunt went well in terms of killing wild goblins. For the first floor, I sniped one through a window, and Megan brained two that ran for the door to attack me. The second floor, however, was like a horror film.

The goblins were indeed holed up inside the insulated room, thirteen of them in total, but they weren't the ones who hung the rugs and blankets. The next room over had three human corpses. It looked as if the goblins were using the natural cold as a sort of refrigerator, coming in here to rip off hunks whenever they were hungry. Unfortunate squatters with a habit, judging by the loose needles and bent spoons scattered around.

We called the State Police to let them know about the three victims and got out of there before they had the chance to arrive. Seeing that gore in person was disturbing, but it didn't affect me as much as I expected it would. Then again, I had seen crawlers die on stream several times over, so maybe I had been desensitized to the violence. Was that good or bad? Regardless of the answer, I didn't like the Dungeon Divas being associated with human corpses.

First the Chestnut Ridge goblins had human skulls, and now we found a squatter buffet. Usually, seeing a body made you an automatic person of interest in the inevitable investigation that followed. Law enforcement already had a few excuses to track down the Dungeon Divas, and I didn't like adding to that pile. But I had no real control over any of that, and I had a feeling I'd see plenty more bodies on hunting runs.

"Megan asked me to be her roommate!" Beth said, diving onto the couch to hug me.

"Thank you so much for being patient with me. I'm sorry you had to sleep on the couch so long."

"I didn't mind it," I said.

"So you're taking her up on it then?" She nodded excitedly.

"I don't have a lot to move, so it won't be much trouble. More importantly, How'd the drone test go?"

"Amazing!" Nathan yelled from the bathroom. Beth laughed.

"That good?"

"Yes, actually," I answered.

"That information advantage is huge. Having even a basic idea of the number and location of monsters takes so much pressure off. We still need to be cautious, but it's a very different kind of hunt with the drone helping."

"That makes me feel better too."

"Good. I don't want you to worry." A thought occurred to me just then.

"I'm sorry, Beth. We need to talk." Her face paled.

"About what?" I grabbed my parents' letter from the kitchen and passed it to her. A few seconds into reading, she shifted as if growing faint.

"Do you want to see them before they leave?" she asked. Groaning, I replied, "I'm a hotdog of 'no' with a line of 'I feel like I should' ketchup." When I saw Beth's confused expression, I added, "Sorry, I'm tired from today."

"I hate that I understand what you mean. I am also a hotdog with ketchup, but my bun is terrified by the idea of being back in that place."

"Same."

"It really could be the last time we see them," Beth said.

"We have to go, right?"

"Says who?"

"I don't know. They're our parents. It's like a moral obligation." Shaking my head, I replied, "I needed a few years to get to this point, but I used to feel like that. They're people, Beth. That's it. They don't get a free pass to be shitty to us just because we're related."

"Am I just a person to you?"

"I'm saying that blood isn't a real connection. Being a family member is an active series of choices. You decide every day to be my sister. You decide to be in my life, to let me in yours, and to share your love with me. None of that is automatic. As soon as someone stops deciding to be family, they aren't."

"You don't think they want to be our parents?" Beth asked.

"They don't want to be the parents we need them to be. Their idea of being a good mom or dad is not the same as ours. I do believe they tried their best, but we needed them to grow with us, to be different kinds of parents. They weren't interested. I was never going to be the son they wanted, and they were never going to be the mom and dad I needed, so I left."

"I hadn't thought about it that way exactly, but I had the same realization. Bending myself into the shape they wanted hurt too much. I couldn't take the pain anymore." I wrapped an arm around Beth and pulled her close.

"We don't owe them a goodbye, and we have time to think about it. I'm pretty torn on it myself. I don't know what the best move is here."

"I don't need to answer now?"

"Not at all. Give it some thought, and I will too."

"Okay." Beth wiped her eyes.

"I have something to show you." She went into my room and came out with a bow, the wood stained a dark, velvety brown. This wasn't a recurve bow. It was a longbow, a simplistic-looking style that was one arc, lacking the flared ends of a recurve. She held it out for me, smiling proudly.

"This is one of yours?"

"Yep. It's the first one Frank said wasn't a total embarrassment to the craft."

"That style of mentorship is working for you?" I asked, inspecting the smooth bend of the wood and the graceful flow of the grain.

"He's become like a grandpa. The grumpy exterior is a persona, and he's never actually mean to me. I don't know. I get the sense he's lonely."

"Frank seems like a good guy. I'm glad we met him."

"For all the shit this year has thrown at me, he's definitely a bright spot. And this apprenticeship… I don't want to leave the shop most nights. I love the work so much. Not only is it beautiful, but my craft gives a bow its power. Turning a boring stave into something that can kill a monster? I don't know how to describe the way it makes me feel." I hugged Beth again.

"I'm so happy to hear that."