15. The Not-So-Great-Escape
“What’re ya DOING, kid??!” he yelled. “MOVE YER BUTT!!” Alhannah shoved me forward, just as the scouts crossed the dragon’s path.
When the Gem awakens to call a Hero, the world is ill prepared...and its fate is placed in the hands of a 17 year old boy, named Wendell.
Some will say this is nothing but a tale of fiction.
Let them think as they may.
After all...I can't fix stupid.
Previously: Wendell meets the girl of his dreams…and then defends her in a bar fight. When it doesn’t go as planned, Wendell is rescued by a cute female gnome with pigtails.
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I don’t believe most parents realize that nerds (a.k.a. their unprotected offspring) are hunted for sport in school. Tormented and tortured once responsible adults (those would be teachers in some situations) were out of earshot. There were shop teachers in my school who used to make bets on how long before I was knocked to the ground, or ran for help.
Seriously, it’s a thing.
I learned a valuable lesson as a nerd, being picked on by the more aggressive teens of the school. When you’re on the run, you don’t have to be the fastest.
…just faster than the last guy.
This, however, wasn’t high school.
The popping noises resounded through my head as the bones of my jaw and neck realigned.
UNGH!
Each pop brought a sigh of relief. The pounding throb in my head subsided, and my vision finally came into focus. Dax hastily pulled me through the front door of the Roadkill Tavern, Alhannah, and the wizard close at our heels.
“Why are we running?” I asked, pulling from Dax’s grip. I glanced back at the wizard, who wore a frantic expression. “What’s going on?”
“Right,” Chuck sighed, “microwave version.” He ushered me forward, guiding us between buildings. He looked left and right, over his shoulder and even up at the cave ceiling. “I brushed you aside to hide your identity from Istul,” he started rapidly. “I’m sorry, my boy. Truly. Thule’s not here, but his henchmen are.”
I picked up my pace, following Chuck without having to be prompted.
“Those vallen soldiers — scouts, sitting in the tavern, saw what you just did — then left without a word. That doesn’t bode well for us.” He flipped around suddenly and shook me by my shoulders. “Even though I’m SO proud of what I saw back there!” He quickly looked me up and down. “Any open wounds, missing fingers or toes?”
“I’m good…” I started, trying to put the pieces together.
“Ya got yerself noticed,” grumbled Dax. Peeking around a corner, he waved us forward.
“…and that means?” I asked.
“Were screwed.” Dax threw himself against a wall, each of us following his example. “If we’re lucky,” he whispered, “we can get out of here before they catch us and we’ll deny it ever happened.”
“Right,” I sighed. We came here for clothes and some books — we got those — time to leave. I was good with that. Then it hit me. “What happened to the girl?” I said. "I didn’t see her in all the commotion."
“Sorry, son,” Chuck frowned, “she ran as soon as her feet hit the floor.”
Tha-THUMP-Thump.
"She MISSED it?" I choked. "I nearly get KILLED, and she MISSED it!?"
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