Stolen Lives: A LitRPG/GameLit Novel (The Underhill Chronicles Book 1) by Keith Ahrens (books for 8th graders .txt) 📗

Too late, I think to check the labels. It seems this whole pallet is 'chicken chunks.' I sigh in misery. Better than nothing, right? A quick estimate tells me we have enough food now for one, maybe two meals a day for the next few weeks. I figure we can always risk another food raid if needed.

I strap one pack on my back and hoist the other three up, looped over my arms. I poke my head around the pallets and still don't see any sign of guards lurking about, so I head back to the group. I make a hell of a lot more noise on my return trip than I did on the way in, moving faster to compensate. Yup, not smart, but it works.

As I approach the spot I left everyone, they rise up to greet me. Thirax has a paw over his eyes and is looking at me sideways, like he's embarrassed for me, and Olivia is grinning and on the verge of laughing.

“Too bad you didn't find a drum set or a pair of cymbals in there, you could've made a little more noise,” she says.

“You move like a pregnant water buffalo, Human,” Acri sneers. I toss the heaviest pack right at his chest in answer. He stumbles back and fumbles to hold onto it before realizing what he is doing and drops the rucksack in disgust.

I hand the other two bags to my squadmates, a little rougher than was strictly necessary, eliciting more grins at my expense. I pick up the pack I threw at the elf and walk over to him. He glares at me. “Am I to be your pack mule as well?”

“Your words, not mine, but yeah.” He holds out his handcuffs and shrugs with a knowing smile. I answer with a smile of my own as I undo the shoulder straps on the bag and loop them over his shoulders. I re-attach the straps and take the opportunity to drop a few large rocks in the pockets of the ruck. Petty, I know, but hey, I'm only human.

We backtrack about halfway to where we started before we call for a quick break and dig into the prepackaged rations. They are cold, but at least they’ll fill our bellies. I already feel steadier and a little stronger. The effect is the same for the others, except for the elf, who refuses to eat 'human waste-food.' Good. Our rations will last longer if he doesn't eat.

After that, it’s a long, arduous, and boring trek up into the foothills of the distant mountains. I'm not gonna waste the time it would take to document in great detail the three days it took us to follow meandering goat trails, mostly uphill, as the weather grew colder. But the evenings and nights proved to be a bit more interesting.

The first two nights, we rigged a small tent with the tarps and the twine and some fallen branches. It would've been very cozy, except Acri refused to sleep that close to us 'inferior races.' So, us 'inferiors' huddled together for warmth and safety and had a good laugh at the 'Noble Elf' suffering in the cold for his own prejudices, where we left him handcuffed around a small tree.

Without any discussion on the first night, Olivia settled in front of me and pulled my arm over her chest, scooting real close, chest to back. Like… real close.

I will always wonder if something more would've happened those initial two nights if it weren't for the six-foot, dog-faced, Gnoll chaperone filling up most of the tent. I'm pretty sure his fur could've kept him warm enough outside, but it was cold enough for us not to complain. Incidentally, he also growls in his sleep.

As everyone slept that first night, I lay awake wondering about how much things had changed. I spend a lot of time thinking about the pretty blonde nestled up against me and, alternately, wondering if Thirax ever has nightmares to go along with his growls. We all awake the next morning, warm, stiff, and un-mauled by a sleepwalking Gnoll.

The next night was much the same, except a little more relaxing. It felt good to be surrounded by friends I trust, even if we all slept with weapons close at hand.

The third night was a little different. A heavy snowfall was covering our small camp and rendering our minuscule fire mostly useless. Without a word, Acri relented and crawled inside the small tent before we had a chance to chain him to a tree.

Well, that just gave us more body heat, and with the temperature dropping outside, nobody complained. Though, Olivia and I shared a quiet giggle the first time Thirax growled and the elf whimpered.

The next day, we trudge through knee-high snow as we climb up the steep trails for about another half a day. It is exhausting, but at least the padding of our armor keeps us somewhat warm. We could be swimming in a frozen lake right now, and it would still be better than what we came from. The further we get from the cells, the more relaxed I feel.

Sometime in the early afternoon, the elf clears his throat to get our attention. I, for one, am glad for a reason to stop. He brushes some snow from the top of a large flat rock and plops himself down on it. He looks up at each one of us and says, “It’s only another hour or so from here. My people's village, I mean. There are, of course, some things I have not mentioned to you. When I left, it was not exactly an amicable parting, if you can believe that.”

I find it not so difficult, but I keep my mouth shut.

“I refused and rejected their ways, always knowing that I was smarter and better than they were. The last few years at that accursed stockade post, I had plenty of time to