Monster Hunter: The Third Bullet, Part 1
This story was made using the solo RPG: Monster Hunter, by La esquina del rol.
Lakeside was a quiet town; only a few families, fewer children. Times were generally hard for the town, but they had always been so. The eldest Hunters had never known Lakeside to be full of anything but struggle and hard living, even before Old Splitfoot had staked his claim. The hard life had made the people of Lakeside wary, but through determined stubbornness, Lakeside had survived even in the Borderlands.
They weren’t the only town that survived — Boone’s Rest and Prudence both managed to scrape together a living, and Cloudy Vale was almost thriving — but the price had been high; high enough that Cloudy Vale was still paying, and paying hard. Lakeside was not only proof that survival was possible, but without making unwise deals.
The town had one tavern, and it wasn’t a good one. Lakeside couldn’t afford to stock their larders with food or drink from other towns, and the local still was the only source of moonshine. The owner of the tavern, Petra, tried her best to keep the barrels stocked, but she could only do so much.
Nevertheless, Vic knew better than most that every little bit helped, so she pushed the tavern doors open on their rusty hinges.
The tavern was empty. Dust covered the tables.
Immediately, Vic was on her guard. She hadn’t seen anyone on her way into town, but that wasn’t terribly unusual. Not seeing anyone in the tavern, that was…worrying. Vic unslung her rifle and slowly walked towards the bar. A gentle noise from the rear room caused her to pause before lifting the rifle slowly to her shoulder.
“Pet?”
Something fell to the floor in the back room. A moment later, a rough-haired woman peeked her freckled face around the doorway. “Sorry I was — my god!” She staggered backwards, ducking out of the way of Vic’s aim.
Vic lowered her rifle. “Land sake, Pet! What’s goin’ on here? Where is everyone?”
Clutching her chest, Petra slapped the top of the bar. “God-damn it! What’s goin’ on with you! Come in here, waving your rifle all over the place? We’re a quiet town and you can’t —” She paused, eyes narrow. “You call me Pet, but do I know you?”
Vic swallowed as she shouldered her rifle. This wasn’t how she had wanted to say hello. “Anyone other than friends call you Pet?” she attempted a grin.
For a moment, Petra’s face was like stone. Then, a flicker of memory glinted in her eyes, and her mouth opened in shock. “Victoria? Is that you?”
“Hey hon,” Vic scratched the back of her neck where it was getting hot. “Been a long time, I guess…”
Opening the bar, Petra ran out to grab Vic and pull her into a firm hug. “You rotten bitch, you shit-for-brains bitch, you heartless evil bitch!”
Vic tentatively returned the embrace. Her heart was beating fast, her mind racing. She could feel Petra’s face press against her neck, hands gripping her back like claws. Vic wanted to apologize, but a horrid fear choked her throat.
Finally, Petra pulled back. Her eyes were red. “You bitch.”
Vic’s smile was still cautious. “Good to see you. Been a long time.”
Petra hauled back and punched Vic hard on the arm. “You bitch!”
“Ow! Hey!” Vic caught Petra’s second punch, avoiding her sharp and painful anger. “I told you I’d have to leave, didn’ I?”
“Without sayin’ goodbye?” Petra kicked Vic in the shin, tearing her arms out of her grip. “I ain’t moved in fifteen years, and you couldn’t write a damn letter? Twelve years I’ve been waitin’ to hear something! I thought you were dead!”
“Damn, Pet,” Vic stood on one leg while she rubbed her shin. “No post comes here. Besides, bein’ a Monster Hunter ain’t like a —”
Petra shoved Vic hard, tipping her over onto the floor. “Don’t you dare pull that Monster Hunter shit,” she snapped, pointing a finger down at Vic’s face. “And don’t you call be Pet no more. That’s my name for friends and you sure as horse-shit ain’t my friend, you bitch!”
With a swift kick to the other shin, Petra stormed back behind the bar, leaving Vic to pull herself up off the dusty floor. “Goddamn it all, Pet, I’m sorry!”
“Oh, you’re sorry I spent twelve years thinkin’ the best goddamn…shit, Vic, I…I thought I…” Petra was standing with her back to Vic, her head in her hands. Vic wanted to reach out, to go behind the bar and hold Petra in her arms and make her feel better, but she couldn’t move. Something was holding her back.
Petra sniffed deep, wiping her eyes. “I thought I had done something wrong.”
Vic rushed forward, ‘round the bar to grip Petra by the shoulders. “You did nothing wrong. You were marvelous. It’s me, I…” Vic cleared her throat and heaved a sigh. “I never learned how to…have friends.”
Petra’s red eyes looked deep into Vic’s. “We did more than what friends do.”
Vic’s grip lessened. Aimlessly, she tried to smooth down Petra’s sleeve in what she hoped was a comforting way. “Well, I…I never learned how to…do that either.”
“You never told anybody else?”
Vic stepped back. “Like who? Not something most women would be keen on, I’d wager, never mind men.”
Petra gave a damp laugh. “You’d be surprised, Victor.”
Vic stepped back around the bar, purposefully looking away. “What you goin’ about sayin’ that for?”
Petra sighed. “No one’s around, are they? I could be stark naked for all anyone could see.”
“Right,” Vic cleared her throat again, “what’s that about? It looks like no one’s been in here for years.”
“Three months,” Petra nodded, “on account of the disease. It showed up four months ago and the doc couldn’t do nothin’. He died two months ago, right after tellin’ everyone to keep themselves apart. No one meets anyone anymore. We all stay indoors, shout from the windows when we need to talk, leave food by the doors…”
Petra’s shoulder’s sagged as her eyes began to brim with tears again. She wiped them away before Vic could react. “I’m glad you’re back, Victor. The town needs help.”
“I ain’t a doctor,” Vic shrugged uncomfortably. “What do you think I can do?”
Petra rested a hand on Vic’s shoulder. “It ain’t no normal disease. You better come see.”
“How long has he been like this?” Vic tried to remember the man’s name. Rodger? Edgar? She was never one for names, but seeing the man lying there…it felt important that she remember.
Petra shifted uncomfortably. “Three months. He was one of the first.”
Vic turned away from the disconcerting scene. “And you kept him here? My god, Pet, you could have been infected!”
Petra pointed. “Well I wasn’t going to leave him here like this! He was my brother and business partner. Who could leave him like that?”
Vic looked back. Petra’s brother was lying on his back, writhing and jerking about in an almost peaceful dance. His eyes were milky white, and his mouth and tongue worked like he was trying to speak. His skin was pale with pulsing purple veins, and the smell…
“Besides,” Petra’s voice was less certain, now, “I’m not sick, so it’s okay, right?”
Vic stepped closer to the body.
“Victor?”
“I’m not Victor,” Vic said, sharper than she meant. “Not now.”
“Oh,” Petra stammered. “I’m sorry. I thought —”
“I think I know what this is,” Vic cut off the apology. “It’s not good.”
“How can I help?” Petra asked.
Vic looked at the beautiful barmaid. She had spent two weeks with the woman long ago. They were fast friends, then more than friends, and then Vic had told her things she had never admitted even to herself. She found something painful those last nights, something that still ached in the chest. A freedom she had never known, all in the arms of this simple barmaid who, in the face of Old Splitfoot’s worst cruelties, wanted to help.
“I’ll need supplies.”