23 – Taking Shelter

  ***Glyph of Heavy Strikes applied! This hammer will now apply Heavy Strikes upon an object when used with purposeful intent. This enchantment will add momentum and force to a single strike. Charges: 1.***

  ***Keep up the hard work, Andy! Your purposeful enchantment of tools and weapons has earned you enough experience to advance to level 3 in your Glyphwright class! You’ve learned a new Bound ability: Strip Enchantment. Additionally, you’ve gained an Improvement Point!***

  ***Strip Enchantment – Bound: With your understanding of how the threads of mana entwine with an object’s essence, you’re able to unwind those threads, removing the magical effects of enchantments. You must expend as much mana in the removal of an enchantment as was spent to create it.***

  “Finally!” Andy huffed, setting the hammer on the workbench. It was the nineteenth item he’d enchanted since he’d finished cleaning up the scorpion stinger for James. He’d begun to think he wouldn’t be able to raise his level by simple repetition of the Glyph of Fate spell.

  “Level?” Lydia asked, looking over from where she was helping James file an edge on his new knife.

  “Yep—three.”

  “Anything good?”

  Andy nodded. “Twenty more mana, an improvement point, and an ability that lets me strip enchantments.”

  “Twenty?” Her eyebrows shot up, and James looked over, too. “How much do you have now?”

  “Um, three-fifteen.” Andy narrowed his eyes. “What about you guys?”

  “Sixty,” Lydia said without hesitation.

  James whistled softly, chuckling as he said, “Ninety. Guess Tinker gives more mana than smith-type classes.”

  Lydia shrugged. “Maybe. I’m still hoping I’ll be able to train into some kind of magical smith. I suppose I might need a secondary class like the one Andy has.”

  Andy was about to reply, suggesting she continue copying the many runes he’d applied to James’s tools, when a fat raindrop hit his forehead. He looked up, surprised—the sky hadn’t darkened much—but a cool breeze swept across his brow. “Shit,” he said, pointing east. “I think the wind shifted. More of the sky looks darker that way.”

  Lydia once again clambered onto the picnic table to stare into the distance. “Definitely.”

  Andy frowned, looking past James’s trailer toward the central lane. “I wonder if the others got back. Did you guys hear anything? I’ve been pretty distracted.”

  “I sent Keshawn to check on things,” James replied. He turned to look the same way. “Should’ve been back.” His grandson had been a good helper for the last hour or so, watching Andy with the stinger, fetching a better knife from his grandpa, and then observing and being a gopher for all three of them. Andy was surprised the kid hadn’t earned his own crafting class yet, but then, he didn’t know any kids with classes. It was something to think about.

  Andy took a long drink from his waterskin, hooked it back to his belt, then picked up his spear. “I’m gonna walk up to the gate and see what’s up. If I see Keshawn, I’ll tell him to hustle back.”

  “Thanks, young feller.” James held out a heavy, gnarled fist, and Andy bumped it.

  “See you two in a bit.”

  Lydia pointed to his dagger. “Can I borrow that? I’m half done with the drawing—hate to lose all that work.”

  Andy nodded, unbuckling his belt so he could slide the sheath off. “Better to keep it in the sheath when you’re not working on it. The enchantment sounds like it would be nasty.”

  As he passed it over, she smiled. “I’ll take good care of it.”

  Waving one more time, Andy started up the lane, struggling to contain his growing worry for Lucy and the others. The breeze picked up, gusting now and then, and several more droplets of cold rain hit him as he walked. It didn’t feel like they had much more time until the storm arrived. His anxiety got the better of him, and he started to jog.

  As he went, he saw people rushing about purposefully, and that was when Tucker—hair blowing behind him, face flushed from exertion—rounded the bend and ran toward him, waving an arm.

  “Andy!”

  Andy skidded to a stop and waved back. “What’s up? Where’s Bea? Any word from—”

  “They’re back! A few got hurt, but not badly. People are already moving into the underground; Bea insisted!”

  Relief washed over Andy, and as Tucker closed the last few steps between them, he asked, “How’d they get hurt?”

  “Assholes left over from the Hardheads. Omar says they ‘beat their asses’ though, so hopefully it was the last we’ll see of them.” Tucker grinned, spitting to the side as he quoted Omar. “Anyway, I’m just spreading the news. Bea thinks we ought to bring our food and anything we care about down to the caves.”

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  “All right. Will you tell James? I want to go check in on everyone.”

  “On my way.” Tucker threw him a thumbs-up, then started jogging again.

  Andy, far less stressed now that he knew the others were safe, started toward the entrance to the underground. When he got there, he found Tyler and Jordan—the two men he’d rescued from the Whistler—hammering tarp material to the inside of the wooden hatch Tucker had built. Meanwhile, there was a steady stream of people climbing in and out, passing objects, bags, and packs down into the dim light below.

  Andy walked up to the two men and said, “Trying to waterproof it?”

  “Eh, more like make it a little water-resistant,” Jordan replied.

  “Hopefully, it’ll keep us from getting our ankles wet down there,” Tyler added.

  Andy looked around the raised platform, shaking his head. “If it’s going to be as bad as Bea fears, we ought to dig a drainage trench to guide water away from the hole.”

  Jordan nodded. “Shovels are over there.”

  “Heh. All right.” Andy reached into his back pocket, got his combat gloves, and slipped them on. They were sturdy leather, and he figured using them with a shovel now and then wouldn’t wear them out too quickly.

  As he walked over to the pile of tools someone had brought from the storage shed, a familiar voice called out, “Andy!”

  He turned to see Lucy clambering out of the tunnel. She had a bloodstained bandage around her wrist but looked otherwise fine as she stood and hurried over. When she held out her arms, he responded automatically, welcoming her into a hug. Her head only reached the middle of his chest, but she pressed against him, squeezing in a way that female friends rarely did. Andy smiled, welcoming the affection. “I was a little worried about you guys.”

  “I’m just glad you’re awake!” she replied, smiling as she pulled away.

  He took her hand and turned it to look at the bandage. “What happened?”

  “Nothing much—just a cut on my forearm. Those guys who were holed up in the ranger station tried to ambush us.” She grinned savagely. “Big mistake.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She flexed one arm. “Level thirteen!”

  Andy took a step back, genuinely impressed. “Seriously?” He ran through the last couple of days mentally, trying to remember when she’d gotten levels, but everything was jumbled—and another gust of wind took his concentration. “That’s awesome! Anyway, Luce, I gotta dig a ditch before the storm gets here.”

  “I can help—”

  “Nah, you should get anything valuable out of your trailer. Shit, can you throw some of my clothes in a bag, too?”

  “Bea said it was going to be bad, but do you think it’ll be that bad?”

  Andy chuckled, shaking his head as he pictured his trailer getting blown off the mesa. It wasn’t like it was very big, and it wasn’t anchored to anything. “I mean, if any of these trailers are goners, it’ll be mine.”

  Lucy frowned, glancing at the dark sky stretching across the eastern desert. “I guess we aren’t exactly sheltered from the wind up here.”

  Andy stooped to pick up a shovel. “Better get to it.”

  Lucy nodded, reaching up to squeeze his shoulder gently. “I’ll get your stuff.”

  “Thanks.” Andy watched her run off toward her trailer, then turned back to study the ground near the platform. The terrain sloped gently south—if water started pooling up there, it’d run straight toward the tunnel entrance. He walked over to that side and started digging a wide trench from the edge of the platform away from the hole. The ground was hard, but not nearly as hard as elsewhere, thanks to the trailer that had sat on it for years.

  When Andy hit a particularly tough patch of dried caliche, an idea occurred to him. He lifted the shovel, concentrated briefly, and cast Glyph of Fate. As the rune, glowing with amber light, faded away, he read the System’s message:

  ***Glyph of Burrowing applied! This shovel will now apply Burrowing when used to dig into the earth. This enchantment will break up hard soil, allowing for easier excavation. Charges: 1.***

  Andy laughed. “Perfect!”

  He thought about adding another charge but stopped himself, using his Evaluate Material ability first.

  Material: iron alloy

  Enchantment potential: natural-low

  Enchantment capacity: 87/100

  “One charge it is.”

  He studied the ground, gauging the best angle, then drove the shovel blade into the hard-packed, clay-like soil. Rivulets of glowing orange mana poured from the shovel into the ground, and with a soft rumbling hiss, a cube of dirt about eighteen inches to a side shivered and broke apart into loose soil. Andy laughed again, amazed by his success, and stooped to shovel the dirt clear.

  As people ran by, many interrupting his work to chat for a few seconds, Andy repeated the process several times until he had a deep, wide channel leading away from the entrance and down toward the nearest paved lane. A few times, the spell gave the shovel another enchantment—one that made it cut through soil more easily. Andy had to believe that even with a “random” spell, intention mattered. He was trying to dig through hard earth, and the spell provided what he needed.

  All the while, the wind picked up, and the occasional droplets became a steady sprinkle. When he finished, thunder rolled in the distance, punctuating the urgency of his work. Looking at the dirt channel, Andy really wanted to line it with big stones or even pavers. There was plenty of material in the park—landscaping rocks between plots for the most part. When he saw Tucker standing near the hole, he waved him over and explained the plan.

  The other man nodded, pointing toward the tunnel entrance. “I’ll get a few more people! We can line the sides and bottom with stones!” He pointed toward a culvert that ran under the park’s central lane, and Andy saw the hundreds of river rocks along the embankment.

  “Yeah.” Andy slapped Tucker’s shoulder, and the other man ran back to the platform. Meanwhile, Andy jogged to the park’s storage shed; he needed to get a wheelbarrow.

  Thirty minutes later, panting, soaked, and exhausted, he and the others finished lining the trench with heavy river rocks. Rain hammered the mesa, lightning flaring purple across the clouds. Tucker pumped his fist and laughed. “I got a level!”

  “Seriously?” a guy named Rigo—a former mechanic—asked.

  “Yep. Frontier Steward is a kickass class, man. I get experience for all kinds of shit.” Chuckling, Tucker slapped the other man on the shoulder. “Let’s get out of this rain!”

  Andy followed the others over to the platform. While they took turns mounting the ladder and climbing down into the lantern light, he picked up his spear and turned in a slow circle, taking in the dark sky, the wild, purple-tinged lightning, and the distant, ominous thunder. He wondered if they’d all be hunkered down in their trailers right then if Bea hadn’t warned them. Of course, she still hadn’t been proven right—the storm might just be a really bad monsoon.

  Andy didn’t think so, though. The air felt full of electricity—mana.

  “Coming, Andy?” Tucker asked, looking up from the top of the ladder.

  Andy nodded, turning away from the storm. “Right behind you. Just wondering how much of this is gonna be left when we come out of there.”