NOVEL FROG CHAPTER 84: Home Run
The wasteland wasn’t a safe place. The skeletons attacking were a great example of this.
Alexander swung his greatsword with practiced precision, catching a skeleton just right in the vertebrae of its neck. The force of the strike shattered the undead creature’s neck. The green glow in the undead’s skull flickered out, and the skull went flying off.
"That's a home run!" he shouted with a grin, "Wrigley Field goes nuts!"
With the skeleton dispatched, Alexander turned his attention to Kingsley, who was dealing with his own bony opponent. "Hey, hey, get your own!" Kingsley snapped, half-joking. "I’ve got this!"
Alexander laughed, his eyes twinkling with the thrill of the fight. "Not everyone has to use a freaking huge sword," Kingsley said as he threw a powerful punch with his cestus, shattering the skeleton’s skull. The way Kingsley moved, his strikes landing with brutal efficiency, was impressive, even to Alexander, who was always quick to make light of things.
"Going down," Alexander replied with a smirk as he casually sliced off one of the skeleton's legs, causing it to crumble. On one knee, the skeleton expired after Alexander followed through with his massive sword.
"For fuck's sake, I could have finished that," Kingsley grumbled, shaking his head. But there was no real heat behind his words—just the familiar grumbling of someone who had known Alexander long enough to expect this kind of thing.
Alexander just chuckled, unbothered. "Hey, I may be smarter, better looking, and better at killing these skeletons faster than you, partner, but don't worry. If we’re ever attacked by animated punching bags, you and your fancy hand wraps will be really helpful."
"They’re not hand wraps you hillbilly, they’re called cestus," Kingsley corrected, rolling his eyes. "Seriously."
They both knew the drill—the back-and-forth banter that had become as much a part of their friendship as the battles they fought. It was this camaraderie, this unspoken bond, that had seen them through more than one close call. The two shared a laugh, the banter between them lightening the grim task of fighting off the skeletal horde.
It was strange to think how far they’d come. A year ago, neither of them would have imagined they’d be here, in a fantasy post-apocalyptic world, fighting skeletons as part of a team called the Portal Crushers. And yet, here they were, standing side by side, cutting down the undead as if it were just another day at the office.
Alexander glanced over at Kingsley as they worked in tandem, dispatching the last of the nearby skeletons. "Remember when we first got here?" he asked, a note of nostalgia creeping into his voice. "We were so damn green. Couldn't even take down one of these guys without nearly pissing ourselves."
Kingsley nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Yeah, and now look at us. Skeletons don’t stand a chance."
"Guess it’s not just the swords and fists," Alexander said, giving Kingsley a look that conveyed more than just words. "It’s the team we’ve become."
Kingsley met his gaze, his usual snark replaced with something more sincere. "Yeah. We’ve got each other’s backs. That’s what counts."
For a moment, the two of them stood there, weapons in hand, surrounded by the remains of their foes, and in that brief lull between the chaos, there was a sense of unspoken understanding. No matter how insane the world had become, as long as they had each other and the rest of the Portal Crushers, they’d be alright.
The hunters were sprawled out on the ground, catching their breath after what felt like hours of non-stop combat. Kingsley was leaning against a broken column, catching a few rays of sunlight, while Alexander sat nearby, meticulously cleaning his greatsword with a rag. The sight of them reminded John of how far they’d come since the first day, when even one skeleton would send them into a panic. Now, they were a well-oiled machine.
As the group settled down for a brief break, John walked over closer to where Alexander and Kingsley were catching their breath. He could see the weariness in their eyes, masked by their usual banter, but it was there nonetheless. He tossed them each a bottle of water, and they nodded their thanks before taking long, refreshing gulps.
"You guys look like you could use a break," John said, tossing bottles of ClearStream water to Alexander and the rest.
“Stay hydrated.”
"Thanks," Alexander said, catching it mid-air and taking a long swig of water. "We’ve been at it pretty hard."
The Portal Crushers gratefully accepted the water, taking long, refreshing gulps.
"Yeah, I can see that," John said, glancing around at the piles of bones scattered across the battlefield. "You’re making good progress."
"We try," Kingsley chimed in, also enjoying a bottle of water, as he stretched out his sore muscles.
John leaned against a broken column, watching them for a moment before speaking. "So, how are you two holding up? This wasteland’s been no joke, and these skeletons…" He trailed off, letting the unfinished sentence hang in the air. The reality was that the constant fighting was taking its toll on all of them.
Alexander wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shrugged, "You know us, John. We’re handling it, but it sure ain’t a stroll through Wrigley Field. These skeletons might not spook us like before, but they’re still a right pain in the ass."
"Yeah," Kingsley agreed, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. "The fighting’s not the worst part—it’s the damn repetition. And the fact that we’re still going at it with just basic gear doesn’t help."
John nodded, understanding their frustration. "I get that. We’ve all been pushing ourselves hard. But soon, we’ll have enough coins to get some better armor and weapons. It’s just a matter of time."
"Can’t come soon enough," Alexander grumbled, his impatience clear. "I’m tired of worrying about some skeleton’s lucky strike slipping through my armor. And don’t even get me started on this sword—I’ve sharpened it so much, it’s practically wearing down."
Kingsley chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. "At least you have a sword. I’ve been relying on these cestus, and while they’re great for close combat, I’d kill for something with a bit more range. Maybe a spear and a decent shield with some spikes."
John looked between the two of them, their concerns mirroring his own. "I hear you. We’ve all got our eyes on better gear. Trust me, once we have enough coins, we’ll make sure everyone’s kitted out properly. We’ve come too far to let something as stupid as a lack of gear bring us down."
"Yup," Alexander said firmly. "We’ve made it this far, and we’re gonna keep pushing through. But man, I can’t wait for the day we’re not out here half-naked, swinging at these things with nothin’ but basic gear."
Kingsley nodded, his expression serious. "Yeah, because let’s be real—the stakes are only going to get higher. We’ve seen the portals, and if those skeletons are just the beginning, we’re going to need every advantage we can get."
John’s gaze hardened. "Exactly. That’s why we keep pushing. We’ll get there. And when we do, those skeletons—and whatever else comes through those portals—won’t stand a chance."
Alexander raised his water bottle in a mock toast, "Here’s to better armor, better weapons, and knockin' out every last skeleton that crosses our path."
Kingsley and John clinked their bottles against his, a sense of shared determination passing between them. What started as frustration now felt like grit. They were in this fight together, no matter what. As long as they kept pushing ahead, they’d get through—even if they had to fight tooth and nail.
John gave a nod of approval.
"You know," Alexander said, a grin tugging at his lips as he looked over at Kingsley, "if it weren’t for you keepin’ me sharp, I’d be bored outta my mind out here."
Kingsley smirked, "Well, someone’s gotta keep that ego of yours in check. Can’t have you strutting around like you’re invincible."
"Wouldn’t dream of it," Alexander chuckled. "But I ain’t kidding, Kingsley. I’m real glad you’re here. Couldn’t ask for a better fella to watch my back."
"Same goes for you, man," Kingsley said, sincerity clear in his voice. "We’ve been through a lot, and I wouldn’t wanna do this with anybody else."
Alexander grinned wide, "Good, 'cause you’re stuck with me now."
"And you with me," Kingsley shot back, grinning just as wide.
As they finished their water and got ready to move, there was a new energy to their steps. The banter, the back-and-forth—it wasn’t just talk to kill time. It was what kept 'em goin’, what kept 'em fightin’, even when things got tough. Long as they had that, they knew they could take on whatever this crazy world threw their way.
***
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