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

“Is there any other doctor here? I think she’d rather kill me than help me.”

“Doctor? Ha. Don’t worry; she ain’t gonna kill you. Hey, you showed some real promise out there. That is until you got tossed like a sack of manure and then smacked by a little elf maiden!” Now, he kind of collapses, tears in his eyes, while he clutches his sides. Jerk. It’s not that funny. At least, not from my point of view, it’s not.

I wait a minute or two for him to get a hold of himself. And still I wait another minute.

“All right, knock it off," I growl impatiently. "I’m glad you’re having a great time, but I’m kind of screwed over here. What I do now?”

He takes a deep breath and sits upright and composed. “Relax. Sarge went to go talk to her and straighten things out. You probably didn’t know this, but elves are kind of skittish and, like I said, overly proud.”

“I didn’t even know she was an elf! Nobody is telling me anything. On top of which, I’m getting tired of getting my ass kicked around here.” That didn't come out as whiny as it sounds… really.

“True. And get used to it. There’s a lotta weird stuff around here, and we’re trying to ease you into it. The one thing you gotta remember is: Thorn, she’s had it worse than all of us combined. She’s been kicked around here for over a hundred years. You think she likes wearing the robes and hoods and veils? She has to because the sight of elves makes the ogres and goblins hungry. And she’s the only healer for this cluster of cells, so she's constantly exhausted trying to keep us all in fighting shape. Now, I know no one told you all this, but now is about the time you gotta eat some crow and apologize to her. When Sarge gets here, just play it cool. He’s gonna be a bit pissed off, so just take some abuse, and let her do her thing.”

I mentally sort through all this info, but obvious questions are nagging at me. And before I can bite my tongue, they come rolling out. “How can she fix a broken leg? I don’t see much in the way of high-tech medical equipment here.”

“You really want to know?” he asks, and I nod.

“Magic.”

Before I can scoff aloud, he holds up a hand and asks, “How did you think your face and concussion got fixed? I’ve been around a bit, and I can tell you, I ain’t never seen anything like what she can do.”

“Yeah, sure," I sort of mumble before sort of accepting what he is telling me. "I’ll keep an open mind, but I gotta say—I’m skeptical. Broken bones take like six to eight weeks to heal. Then again, deep cuts to the face also take a few weeks. Shit. I’m not sure what to think around here.”

“That’s the spirit! Your confusion is normal, and if you last long enough, you'll probably get some answers. Of course… that’ll just lead to more questions.” He grins again.

Just then, the door opens. Two humanoid creatures are standing there, with a third one crouched on top of a wagon. I look closer and realize they are pretty similar to the goblins I'd seen on the walls. Each one has different shades of green and yellow skin tones; all have vaguely reptilian faces with long ears sticking straight off the sides of their heads. Mismatched armor with cap style helmets covers their four-foot, skinny frames. Close up, they kind of look like a rat and a lizard both mated with a dwarf, and these things were the result.

The one on the wagon carries a large crossbow, pointing it into the doorway in a vaguely menacing way. Another one brandishes a notched sword while the third holds a tattered ledger. They look around at each of us and lean in close to each other, muttering in a hissing language.

The one with the ledger gestures to the one with the crossbow and hisses an order at him. In response, he puts down the bow and picks up a few sealed plastic packages and tosses them through the doorway. Then he grabs a ripped open package that looks like it has been stepped on and tosses it at me with a nasty smirk.

More MREs. The contents spill out as it lands on my lap. More chicken chunks. Awesome. At least I got some food. I do notice the dessert is missing. No brownie for me. Des picks up the others as the door closes again and tosses one to Jesse, who's just sat up, and the other onto Haynes’ bunk. He keeps the last for himself and says, “See, things are lookin’ up already. Most folks don’t get a second meal during their first few days! Eat up!”

An hour or so later, the door opens again. Thorn stands there, glaring at me from above her veil. Haynes towers behind her, kind of lurking. After a few moments, it becomes clear that she is waiting for me to speak first. I clear my throat and lift the remains of my MRE. “Chicken chunk?” I offer as politely as I know how.

“Arsehole!” she bursts out with a look of fury and tries to spin around. At least I understood that one.

Haynes puts a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her midturn. He leans down to whisper in her ear, and after a moment, she looks up at him with a quiet laugh. My eyes widen as she reaches up and puts her hand on his. They stay like that… sharing a moment… it feels so personal that I briefly glance away.

He breaks the spell by dropping his hand and turning to stare at me, his posture becoming rigid. Suddenly, he moves like a stalking cat, taking three long strides toward me. At the edge