Shovels In Spades



Book 2 Chapter 3: Watermelon and Whiskey


A note from Lone

First guaranteed chapter of the week.

"Seriously, where is everyone?" Daz asked rhetorically as he and Madison carefully made their way through Camp Waterford. 

Daz would be lying if he said that he wasn't tempted to steal some of the vehicles and weapons using this opportunity, but he had to hold himself back. 'I'm here to make peace, not to make a terrible situation even worse...'

Madison stopped walking suddenly and raised her head. "Sound. Strange."

Daz closed his eyes and focused on whatever Madison had heard, and just like she had said, he could hear an odd sound. "Are they killing livestock? What a ghastly wail."

Madison shook her head, unsure of the source of the noises. She and Daz resumed walking with a new destination as their goal. After passing a few building, an incredible sight entered their eyes.

"Is... Is that Crusher?" Daz whispered. 

In front of him and Madison was Crusher who was holding the crying Dorian by his arm and the two of them were surrounded by soldiers. Daz could see General Miller and he had a furious look on his face as he watched Crusher toy with his son's life.

Daz focused on the General and he furrowed his brow. 'What is he doing with his hands? Are those signals?'

Daz found this to be peculiar. He looked around, trusting in his instincts, and was shocked to see a red dot on Crusher's forehead. She hadn't noticed it yet, which worried Daz. 'Is the General just acting angry? That sneaky fox... Now, where's the sniper?'

"Don't do anything else! Private Samson, give her the hammer!" Unlike what Daz thought, Greg was genuinely panicking. The sniper wasn't ready just yet, so he had to buy as much time as he could, but he wasn't going to risk his son's life. If he needed to, he'd let Crusher go if it meant Dorian's safety.

"Yes, Sir!" Private Samson saluted and lifted the large weapon. He carefully made his way over to the grinning Crusher and the tormented Dorian. 

"Thanks, buddy. See? That wasn't so hard, now wa-"

Crusher's words were cut off by a loud gunshot. Private Samson had dropped the sledgehammer and drawn his pistol before shooting Crusher right in her face. Her head had cocked back and steam was rising from her mouth.

Slowly leaning her head forward, Crusher revealed the bullet caught between her teeth. She smirked and spat the bullet on the floor. "Well, that was pretty rude, now wasn't it, huh? Hahaha!"

Crusher then used her free hand and smacked Private Samson by his face, sending him barreling through the air and into some of the soldiers surrounding Crusher and Dorian. Crusher cracked her neck and dropped Dorian. He fell like a wet rag and Crusher lifted up her foot before resting it on Dorian's face.

"Test me again, and I'll crush his head like a watermelon, okay?" This time, there was no amusement in Crusher's voice and General Miller could tell that she was being deadly serious.

"Okay! Just... Just calm down, okay? No one needs to get hurt," General Miller replied in a bit of a frenzy.

He didn't have the confidence to test if Crusher was bluffing or not. His son's life mattered more to him than his pride did. He waved the hand behind his arm signalling the sniper to stand down. he couldn't take any risks.

Daz was stood atop a watch tower with the sniper in question knocked out just behind him. Daz looked at Madison and laughed lightly. "I guess the General isn't as unreasonable as I thought he was. Maybe we can work out something more peaceful between us after all... Maddy, we're leaving."

'I'd love to take this sniper rifle... But peace first. It'll all be mine once I can convince Greg to join me,' Daz told himself.

Madison cocked her head in confusion but didn't ask any further because she trusted Daz's words. The two then stealthily left Camp Waterford.

Crusher had collected her sledgehammer and was now slowly leaving the military base as she held Dorian very closely to herself. None of the soldiers followed her so she was relieved and she managed to exit the base securely. 

She walked with cautious steps until she was a few blocks away from Camp Waterford. Only then did Crusher sigh a breath of relief. "Okay, we should be good now. Fucking hell. Did you see that, Ahab? I caught a bullet with my teeth. my teeth! Hahaha!"

"Urg..." Dorian moaned in pain. To be honest, it was a miracle that he wasn't unconscious at this point.

Crusher's face paled slightly and she chuckled a bit awkwardly. "System, heal Dorian for me, please. Use my points."


Confirmed. Desired item, [Basic Body Recovery Gel] is required. Price: 500 merit points. Confirm purchase?


"Yeah," Crusher confirmed. She scratched her head in embarrassment at having forgotten about the damage she'd caused to Dorian. 'He must be in a lot of pain, huh? I'm surprised only the basic gel is needed, to be honest.'


Confirmed. Injecting [Basic Body Recovery Gel] Price 500 merit points. Usage on another host (Exclusive to Gold Rank access or higher) 5,000 merit points.
The total merit balance of the host is now 416,142.


A blinding light washed over Dorian's body and his broken arm repaired itself. He sat on the floor, tears still in the corners of his eyes and he sighed. "Thank you, Crusher. Next time something like that happens, don't be so rough, please."

Crusher laughed loudly in response. "Sorry, sorry! I wanted it to be believable. Anyway, we got out of there and I didn't kill anyone, so we should be good. Hopefully, Daz doesn't get pissed at me for re-kidnapping you."

"'Re-kidnapping'?" Dorian said in confusion as he cracked the bones in his arm very carefully. He'd already lost one arm so he'd like to make sure that the remaining one was intact and still worked properly.

"Right. The General kidnapped you so I re-kidnapped you. Isn't that how it works?" Crusher asked and she was quite clearly being wholly serious.

"... No, I don't think that's how it works." Dorian had a loose smile on his face. Something about Crusher's goofy nature allowed Dorian to forgive her for beating him up. He knew she had his best interest at heart.

"Anyway, Crusher," Dorian said as he stood up and brushed himself off. "What happened at Fort Skip while I was gone? Did you manage to beat day four's attack easily enough? Is Sarah okay? Em, I mean, did anyone get hurt?"

Crusher wasn't sure how to answer Dorian in a short space of time, so she chose to explain as they walked back to the base.

A few moments after Crusher had escaped Camp Waterford with Dorian, General Miller was sat in his office with a bottle of classic Scottish whiskey and a shot glass, which was empty, sat on the table in front of him.

"What am I going to do?" the emotionally insecure man asked himself. He poured himself a glass and tried to drink his worries away. Maybe four or five shots in, the General had lost count after two, a figure entered his office.

"Didn't I order no one to disturb me? I'm busy!" Not even glancing at his intruder, General Miller launched a nearby cup across the room. It shattered against the wall after harmlessly missing its target.

"Greg, are you really this weak?" the person asked with disappointment in his tone.

General Miller's eyes opened wide. He was now definitely more than sober enough to recognise the voice of the man he hated the most on this Earth.

"Daz! How did you get in here?!" General Miller lifted his eyes and grabbed the pistol that was on his desk. He pointed it at Daz and hesitated upon seeing the Reaper's burnt face and ghostly arm. "What the fuck happened to your face?"

"I had a make-over," Daz smirked in response to the General's question nonchalantly. "By the way, this isn't my real body. It's just a clone, so killing it won't do you any good."

"Oh really? Well then, don't stop me as I put a bullet in your fucking face," General Miller spat. He was distraught over losing his son again and he needed to vent.

"Fine. I only wanted to say one thing anyway. Consider an alliance between us, okay? If we could come to trust each other, you and all of your soldiers and citizens could move to Fort Skip and live in the safety of my walls. You'd be able to live with your son peacefully. That's all I wanted to say, so go ahead and kill me now if it'll make you feel any better," Daz's clone stated with a lack of empathy clear in its tone.

"You motherfucker... After everything you've done... Just die!" General Miller had heard enough so he unloaded a full magazine into Daz's Death Energy clone and his body evaporated into a green smoke before it fled the General's room and then Camp Waterford. Clearly, it was making its way back to Daz's main body.

Greg slumped into his chair and dismissed the soldiers that rushed in asking what had happened. He held his shot glass and chugged another mouthful of whiskey. It burnt his throat and reminded him that he was alive. "An alliance, huh?" General Miller was unsure of what to do and he could easily say that today might have been the most stressful day of his entire life.

A note from Lone

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  • Scotland
  • The Scottish Slothy Sloth

Bio: Hey there, nice to see you. I'm just an ordinary man who enjoys writing, which is great since it's my full-time job now thanks to the support from you guys over on Patreon! I hope you enjoy my novels if you read them, and if not, I hope you enjoy looking at my profile.

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