Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I dropped the pack, pulled a second canteen out, and hung it on my coveralls. I had to take only what I absolutely needed. The antibacterial gel, a couple of bandages, knife, both candy bars, three of the energy bars, and Motrin went into my pockets. That was all that could fit.
God, I didn’t want to leave the pack behind, but Bear mattered more. It would be fine. I would come back for it.
I took off my hard hat, pulled one of the spare canteens out of the backpack, poured water into the hat, and offered it to Bear. She lapped at it. I drank what was left in the canteen and waited until the shepherd stopped drinking. I took the hat, tapped it on the ground to get the last of the liquid out, and put it back on my head. It was the only helmet I had.
There was a command guild dogs were taught to make them easy to carry. I’d heard the handlers use it before. What the hell was it? Lie, rest… Limp. Limp, it was limp.
I tore the packet of jerky open, pulled a piece out, and offered it to Bear. She sniffed it and gently took it out of my hand.
“Good girl. See? We’re friends.”
I took another piece of jerky and crouched by the shepherd. “Limp, Bear.”
She stared at me.
“Limp.”
Another puzzled look.
I was sure that was the right command. I scooted close to her and put my arm around her. Please don’t bite me. “Limp.”
The shepherd leaned against me, slumping over. I put my hands around her hind and front legs, heaved her up onto my shoulders. If she were a human, it would be fireman’s carry, but since she was a dog, it was more like a fur collar. I stood up.
Bear made a surprised noise halfway between a whine and a growl. I offered her another piece of jerky. A warm wet tongue licked my fingers, and she swiped the jerky from me.
“Good girl. Stay. Limp.”
I put my hands on her legs, took a deep breath, and walked into the field of red death.
Ten feet. Fifteen…
I zigzagged through the field, threading the needle between the thorn ridges.
The law required Cold Chaos to immediately notify the government of my death, but the DDC had a lot of discretion as to when the public announcement of this disaster went out. And Cold Chaos would use every crumb of their influence to convince the DDC to sit on that news as long as possible. Their chances of mitigating this disaster would be much better if they recovered the bodies, presented a clear explanation, delivered a record haul of precious adamantite, and closed the gate, all of which required time.
The DDC would oblige, because Cold Chaos was a major guild and it had built up a lot of goodwill. As much as I hated them right now, if you asked me this morning which guilds I preferred to work with, Cold Chaos would’ve been in my top three. Having a top guild crumble wouldn’t be in the interest of national security, so the DDC would likely delay the press release, at least for a few days, to give Cold Chaos a chance to get their shit together. But my kids would be notified, probably within twenty-four hours.
This gate was local to Chicago. I didn’t fly here, I drove for twenty minutes. Elmwood was less than five miles from my house in Portage Park. Even if the mining session ran overtime, by now I should be heading home. My children would be calling my phone, and when I didn’t answer, they would know that something went very wrong. The DDC wasn’t oblivious. In the morning, an agent would show up at our house and tell Tia and Noah that I was missing in the breach. They wouldn’t tell them I was dead until they recovered my body or the gate was closed.
There would be nobody to cushion the blow. Roger wouldn’t lift a finger to help. Roger’s father and stepmother basically disowned him in favor of his younger brother and never showed any interest in their grandchildren.
My mother was unreachable. After my father died a decade ago of a heart attack, she moved back to her native UK, and I didn’t even have her phone number. She viewed having children as a duty she had to fulfill. She had me, she provided food and shelter until I reached adulthood, and that was the end of her obligation to me and society in general.
I was an only child, and I didn’t have any friends, at least none who would step in. I did have a will and a law firm appointed as an executor, but the kids would need warmth, kindness, and guidance.
I had left a death folder both with physical copies of the documents and with scanned PDFs on my laptop. There were things in there I didn’t want my kids to find unless I was truly gone, but there was also a plan of action. I had gone over it with them several times. They knew what would happen.