Chapter 4 - Rachel Vendermann

Rachel Vendermann was sitting next to her sleeping brother in a cruddy small hut made of clay, sticks and leaves. Damian was only twelve years old and woefully unprepared for this world. He was a good kid. Nerdy and quiet, prone to chubbiness and late nights with his online friends over video games.

It was a small wonder he wasn’t dead. They had been attacked by those things again. Monsters. The nasty faceless fiends with scythes for arms were the most common ones. They were deadly fast, but Rachel could outrun them up to a point as a semi-professional soccer player. Ex-soccer player.

Now she was just rachel, a nineteen year old girl trying to survive in this crazy world with her crippled brother. His brother hadn’t been as fast as she had been. Rachel suppressed another wave of emotion. She had been crying a lot lately. She looked at the bound up stump on the blanket made from her jacket.

I should have protected you. But I was too scared.

That was something Rachel would not forgive herself. She was the stronger one and the older one. Who knew where their parents were if even alive. It was all up to her. And she had failed.

I won’t fail again.

Fortune had been at their side and they had been saved. A strange tall man had come. He was not only a handsome man, but an attractive man, Rachel begrudgingly admitted. An older gentleman type in his fifties. But what a man! Completely unhindered by age, especially in the courage department. But even in the looks department, Rachel had to admit, she had been a bit smitten.

Oh, he’d never look at a young fool of a girl like you.

Rachel suspected some of her attraction was a simple suspension bridge effect. Malcolm Specter had come in the hour of their direst need. His presence was something Rachel could sense. Vast and powerful like the ocean. The scythe-creature must have sensed it too. As it loomed over Damian, ready to kill, it had suddenly stopped.

Mr. Specter had told it off. Just commanded it to leave. There was a power in his voice. Maybe it was this class thing. Of course Rachel knew who Malcolm Specter was, or had been but… Well, now she understood why he had been so rich and powerful. Rachel supposed now he was just powerful.

Rachel done her best, tying up the stump of his screaming brother’s arm. There just wasn’t enough she could have done there. Malcolm had simply picked up the boy and looked at Rachel silently. Of course Rachel had followed.

Now she was in a little camp managed by Mr. Specter. But that little camp was growing every day.

Rachel kissed her sleeping brother on the forehead and got up. It was time to help that camp grow.

*

When she got back from hauling a cartful of buckets, filled with water, her heart started beating faster as she saw Malcolm standing there talking to a stout, bearded man in his thirties. Tommy was his name, if memory served.

He had made this cart and these buckets. He’d been a carpenter on earth and now had unsurprisingly picked the [Carpenter] class. He was leveling so fast.

Mr. Specter must have sensed her gaze, because he turned and looked at Rachel, who froze like a deer in headlights. He gave him an approving nod and turned away.

Oh.

That felt good.

Stop it! You silly girl. This is not the time. We are in a survival situation, you have a wounded brother.

But the heart wants what the heart wants.

It isn’t your heart talking you dummy.

Rachel managed to get the water to their cooking station where Ben, their [Cook] took the delivery with an enthusiastic smile.

“Thanks, Rachel!” He said in a cheery voice. Young guy in his twenties, a bit on the softer side with his body, but a freckled, boyish face with a dimple when he smiled. Rachel liked him well enough.

“Just trying to pull my weight around here, ya know?” Rachel said as he hauled a bucket down. “What’s for dinner?”

“My speciality, of course,” Ben said. A soup with mushrooms and roots. But this big clay pot smelled somehow a bit more enticing.

“It’s got something new there, don’t it?”

“Good nose,” Ben said. “Jenny and that old dude caught us three of those squirrel-monkeys.”

“Oh god,” Rachel said and let out a satisfied sigh. “We’re eating meat tonight?”

“Sure are!”

“Oh, Ben, I could just kiss you!”

Ben blushed and muttered something, but he was clearly just as excited about the prospect of eating meat. It was scarce around here.

Things weren’t all bad. But another pang of sadness came over her when she took away the cart. Would Damian wake up to have a taste?

Why did it have to happen? It’s not fair.

But there was another ugly thought there, which Rachel wasn’t a fan of.

I’m glad it wasn’t me though.

She was sure other people would think something like “I wish I had lost a hand instead of my brother.” But those were good people, noble people. Rachel just wasn’t wired like that. It really sucked that anyone had to lose a hand at all. But she was glad it didn’t have to be her.

Well, that means I have to fill the work quota of an extra hand though. He still has to eat.

Mr. Specter was a good man and a good leader. But he was harsh. Everyone had to work. Earlier he had told Rachel that she could have her time by his brother’s bedside, but she would still have to do chores. Malcolm Specter was a generous man. Of course Rachel would do her chores, like a good girl.

And with that she went towards the edge of their camp, where a group of men were chopping down woods. Rachel started picking up branches for the fire.

Maybe Damian can pick some class that only requires one hand?

And pray, do tell what kind of class wouldn’t work better with two hands? There was no satisfying answer to that. Rachel sighed. Well as long as he could still pick something and be content and have a place in the group, it would be enough.

As for my own class, I’m still not sure.

Rachel had reached her class options, but like a lot of people, she was still hesitating. It was one of the most common talking points every night by the fire. People would discuss their options and ask for advice.

She hadn’t joined in. She hadn’t even properly looked at the list. It was all so new to her. This was her fourth day in this new world and she just couldn’t accept everything at face value. She was so glad for people like Mr. Specter who organized people and made them work together so they could all get a fair chance.

Mr. Specter hadn’t told them how long he had been here, even when asked. Rachel wondered at that, but she was sure their good leader had his reasons. It seemed that people came into the world in waves. Rachel was apparently of the third wave, which had come sometimes four or five days ago.

It was a new world, a scary world. A world of fantasy with magic and monsters. Rachel hated it, but it was her reality now. She would have to take care of her brother, that was all that mattered.

It’s a horrible and dangerous world. But Malcolm Specter will keep us safe.