NOVEL SIMPLE CHAPTER 86: Dump
At the crafting area, John met up with Atlas, who had just returned from his solo mission against the slimes. Atlas looked a bit worn, but there was a satisfied gleam in his eyes—a sure sign that he had successfully taken care of the slimes.
"How’d it go?" John asked, noticing the faint residue of slime on Atlas's boots.
Atlas grinned. "Cleared them out. Cores are done for, and there won’t be any more splitting for a while."
‘And I got enough slime corpses for my sneaky, sneaky side project,‘ thought Atlas with a mischievous smile.
"Good to hear," John replied. "We took care of the skeletons, but we’ve got a few injuries. Nothing serious, but Barbara's right—we need more supplies."
Atlas nodded, his expression turning serious. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. We can't keep pushing everyone this hard without better support. We need to always stock up on the non-emergency supplies from the MediPod. It’s got great stuff in there, and it’s way cheaper than just using the pod itself.”
"Agreed," John said, then added, "And there’s something else—Snedlie. I’ve been watching him. He’s been sneaking around, pocketing extra coins when he thinks no one’s looking. I didn’t confront him yet, but it’s only a matter of time before it gets out of hand."
Atlas frowned. "We can’t afford any internal issues. Keep an eye on him, but don’t confront him directly yet. Let’s see if we can catch him red-handed. We’ll deal with it then."
"Got it," John agreed, though he wasn’t entirely comfortable with waiting. Still, he trusted Atlas’s judgement. "I’ll make sure to stay close."
"Good," Atlas said. "We’ve got enough to worry about without adding betrayal to the list. Speaking of which, how’s everyone holding up?"
John looked back at the group, who were busy unloading their packs and settling in for the night. "They’re tired, but morale is high. We won today, and that counts for a lot."
Atlas’s gaze softened as he watched his team. "Yeah, it does. Let’s keep it that way. We’re all in this together, and we’re going to make it out together."
‘‘‘
As the night deepened, the Portal Crushers gathered around the campfire, sharing stories, patching up wounds, and planning for the days ahead. Lark noticed that John was keeping a close eye on Snedlie, though he didn’t say anything about it.
"Hey, John," Lark said as she approached him, curiosity getting the better of her. "What’s the deal with Snedlie? He seems... off."
John glanced at her, then back at Snedlie, who was sitting a little too far from the rest of the group, fiddling with something in his pocket. "Yeah, that’s something we have to deal with. But I have some thoughts.”
Lark nodded, sensing that there was more to it but not pressing the issue. "Sure thing."
John decided to eat his Ultra Manly Buff Bar: Pepperoni Pizza, while sitting beside Lark by the campfire. The night was quiet, the crackling fire providing an imaginary sense of security in their post-apocalyptic existence. ‘Tonight wasn’t going to be quiet; the Mana Dome of MegaAwesomeness was going down, and the demon dogs would come.‘
John and Lark sat by the campfire, the flames casting warm shadows on their faces.
‘How long has it been since I just quietly chatted up a girl?‘ thought John.
“Sooooo, Lark,” John began, breaking the silence. “What did you do back on Earth? You know, before all this.”
Lark smiled faintly, poking at the fire with a stick. “I was a graphic designer, actually. Worked for a teeny tiny company. It wasn’t anything glamorous, but I liked it. Got to be creative, ya know?”
John nodded. “That’s cool. Bet it’s a big change from, well, this.” He gestured at the wasteland. “Did you ever work on designing packages like this?” he asked, poking the Ultra Manly Buff bar wrapper.
Lark chuckled softly. “Nope. It was mostly designing logos and websites for local businesses. No fancy corporate work for me. Now I’m fighting off skeletons and scavenging for bones. Not exactly what I pictured my life turning into.”
“How are you adjusting?” John asked. “It can’t be easy, going from that to… this.”
Lark shrugged. “It’s tough. At first, I didn’t know if I could handle it. The fear, the constant danger… It's overwhelming. But then you realize you don’t have a choice. You either adapt or…” She trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence.
John nodded again, understanding. “Yeah, I get that. It’s been the same for all of us, I think. But you’ve been doing great, Lark. Seriously. You’ve stepped up in ways most people wouldn’t.”
Lark looked up at him and gave him a shy smile, surprised by the compliment. “Thanks, John. That means a lot.”
He smiled, a soft expression crossing his face. “We’re all in this together, right? And, honestly, it’s good to know more about you. We’ve got to stick together and make the best of this crazy situation.” He gave her a quick side hug.
‘Who’s going to get some? This boy,‘ thought John.
“Yeah,” Lark agreed, feeling a bit more at ease. “We gotta stick together,” she said, giving him a flirty wink.
‘Ahhhhhh still got my game, ain’t no rust on this playa.‘
John then turned to Lark, his expression serious. "Hey, Lark, I've got a proposition for you. Something I need you to do. But you can’t tell anybody about this."
Lark's mind raced. ‘Is he going to ask me to do something dirty?‘ she wondered, her heart skipping a beat. ‘I mean, I’m kind of into him, but it’s a little quick.‘
John continued, unaware of her thoughts. "This matter is life and death. I need you to keep an eye on Snedlie. For the rest of the night. Wherever he goes, just kind of follow him. Don’t let him see you, though."
"Everywhere he goes?" Lark asked, a hint of suspicion in her voice.
"Yeah, everywhere he goes," John confirmed. "Especially if he tries to go somewhere private. Oh, like, I don’t know, if he decides to go for a midnight wander, or if he heads to the bathroom, or even if he goes to the vending machine area. Just keep an eye on him. Don’t let him see you."
"What’s going on?" Lark pressed, her curiosity piqued.
"Don’t worry about it," John said, trying to sound reassuring. "I’ll tell you later. After tonight."
Lark nodded, though the mysterious task made her uneasy. "All right."
They continued chatting for a bit, their conversation occasionally punctuated by laughter and the crackle of the fire. Casually, Snedlie stood up, muttering something to the person next to him. "Gotta take myself a dump," he said.
John caught Lark’s eye, and she quickly followed Snedlie, doing her best to remain inconspicuous. She trailed him as he made his way toward the latrine area.
‘What am I doing? He’s totally going to think I’m a pervert if he catches me spying on his bathroom time.‘
The latrine was situated inside the fenced section of the settlement but far enough away from the camp to keep the stench at bay.
Lark watched as Snedlie grabbed a sword that was stuck into the ground near the latrine. It was a beautiful weapon, handcrafted by artisans back on Earth—a weapon that could have been a warrior’s prized possession. But here, in the wasteland, it served a far less noble purpose: digging a poop hole.
Snedlie dropped his trousers, and Lark wrinkled her nose, bracing herself for the unpleasant sight. But what she saw next surprised her. After relieving himself, Snedlie reached into his pockets and pulled out a handful of coins. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching—completely unaware of Lark’s presence—before dumping the coins into the hole.
Whistling to himself, he kicked dirt over the hole, placing three small rocks on top as a marker. Then he headed back to camp.
‘Oh my God, he’s stealing,‘ Lark thought, a mix of disbelief and disgust swirling in her mind. ‘And ew, gross, he didn’t even wash his hands!‘
Lark hurried back to the camp, her mind still reeling from what she had just witnessed. She found John and quickly relayed what had happened.
John’s expression darkened as he listened. He nodded grimly, then made his way over to Atlas, who was chatting with Amber and Isabella.
“Yep, we were absolutely 100% right. Snedlie’s stealing,” John said.
Atlas sighed. "What should we do about it?"
‘This shit is a Clark type situation. I don’t want to deal with humans and their shitty ways. Give me a straight-up fight against a pack of demon dogs any day.‘
The group fell silent, the crackling of the fire the only sound as they weighed their options. Finally, John spoke. He knew dealing with this kind of thing wasn’t Atlas’s forte.
“That’s a decision for the group,” said John. But he knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.