Harvey (Team Crafted)

The Bandit Camp

When Harvey woke, the first thing he registered was a stabbing pain in his side, but it was quickly forgotten and replaced by a strong ache in his head. He scrunched his already closed eyes, grunting under his breath. That noise was the first he heard; after his ears opened to sound through that, he heard the nearby crackling of a fire, and a chatter of many distant voices, like the ambience of a cafeteria, only the cafeteria also held the chirp of crickets and a soft rustling of tree leaves in the wind. The pain in his side returned along with a gruff, older voice, like that of a person who had smoked many years.
    "Can't ye hear me? Up!" The voice demanded. "Houlden, didn't ye say the scrapper was alive?!"
    "I did." Replied a different voice, this one smoother, lower, further away. It was also calmer, emotionless even. Harvey heard footsteps growing closer, before they stopped. Then, suddenly, he felt an abrupt jolt as someone kicked his stomach hard. "Up."
    Harvey yelped and made a motion to grab his now pained stomach, and that was when he noticed the ropes tightly binding his hands in front of him. "Wh... What...?" He said softly under his breath. Finally, he opened his eyes and saw dirt beneath him. He was weak, but he forced himself to raise his head. There was a man staring down at him with piercing, scary black eyes. A mask covered his mouth and nose, a black fur-lined hood with a dark red floral print covering his hair and forehead. Harvey looked past him, and saw what looked like a camp in the center of a clearing in some woods that he had never seen before; woods definitely nowhere near New York City. If he had been drugged, he was certainly having one hell of a hangover.
    Harvey's breathing started to speed up as it occurred to him that perhaps, since he just woke up, and since he was sure of his senses and feelings, this wasn't a hallucination. It hit him like a ton of bricks. A jolt of fear ran through his chest and his eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet and he heard a few shouts of surprise as he did. He lost his footing when he tripped over himself and he instinctually moved his hands behind him to catch his fall, but then he remembered his hands were bound in front of him. He fell roughly on his back, the winds knocked out of him.
    He heard more distant shouts and someone grabbed the rope between his hands. Harvey struggled, still desperately trying to breathe as he was dragged forwards roughly by the rope, which rubbed and burned and pulled painfully on his wrists. He let out a small, weak squeak of pain and fear, trying to pull away.
    "Hey!" He heard an angered shout and prepared to be hit; but then, the person dragging him along by his rope was pushed away. Harvey was looking down, almost afraid to look up, as he was pulled away more gently. The sound of the fire and the chatter of people slowly died away, replace only by the noises of the forest.
    Harvey suddenly stopped getting pulled along but he kept walking by accident, bumping into whoever was guiding him. He gasped in alarm and moved quickly way, falling on his behind again, scrambling away until his back ran into a tree and he couldn't move out of its way from the numbing terror.
   "Hold on, relax!" The person said quickly. Harvey felt them grab his shoulders and he opened his mouth to scream when they clapped a hand over his mouth to silence him. "Shh." They said harshly. "Calm down." Harvey stared at him with wide, terror-filled eyes. His heartbeat was fast, his breathing quick. "Now, I will answer any questions you have just so long as you do not scream. Am I understood?"
    Harvey stared at him, before he slowly nodded. All he had wanted since he got to whatever place this was was to get answers.
    "Good." The man said, voice slightly muffled by his mask. He stared at him steadily as he very slowly moved his hand from Harvey's mouth. Harvey didn't scream. "Good..." The man repeated, leaning back so both he and Harvey were sitting on the ground almost like they were having a casual conversation. He propped his feet on the dirt beneath him, balancing his elbows on his knees and making a leisurely gesture. "Ask your questions."
    Harvey stared at him for a moment, although he hardly had to think about what questions he wanted to ask. "Wh... Wh-Who are you...?"
    "My name is Houlden." The man in the mask said.
    "Wh-Where am I?"
    "You're in our camp."
    "Whose c-camp?" Harvey was almost afraid to ask.
    "Ours." Houlden replied simply. It was clear he was not willing to tell him.
    Harvey hesitated. "H-How far off is New York...?"
    "New York?" Houlden said, brow furrowing in confusion. "I've never heard of New York. You must be thinking of New Arkshire, but it fell to monsters years ago. As in decades ago."
    "M... M-Monsters...?" Harvey whispered, his eyes wide.
    "Yes, you're obviously aware of them due to your encounter with the spawn box last night."
     If it was possible, Harvey was even more confused than he had been earlier. But gears were starting to turn within his mind; too many words were familiar, too many coincidences were coming about. For the first time, it occurred to him that he might just know where he was even though it seemed impossible. He tried not to think about that option, but still, it started making more and more sense.
   Harvey swallowed dryly. "What s-state are we in...?" He said, his voice barely audible.
    "State? Living, I assume."
    "N-No, what - what c-country?"
    "Sir, I believe you're using the wrong words. Are you foreign?"
    Harvey closed his eyes. "A-Am I in... Am I in M-Minecraft...?"
    Houlden nodded. "Yes, I suppose. Minecraftia."
    Harvey covered his eyes with his hand. Houlden watched him in confusion as his shoulders started to shake. Just barely, Houlden's stone-cold expression softened. "...Hey..." Harvey tried to pull away as the bandit gripped his shoulder. Houlden wanted to speak to him, to console him, but there was nothing he could say. He knew exactly what was going to become of the young man he and his partner had captured during the village attack earlier that night. He knew exactly what the rest of his life was going to be like, and there were no words he could truthfully say that would make him feel better.
    Houlden set his jaw. "...You'll be okay." He lied.
    Harvey sniffled, looking up at him. "R-Really...?" Houlden saw tears in his eyes, threatening to spill, making his hurt pang with guilt.
    "...Yes." He said, as solemn as he was before. "No harm will befa..."
    His voice trailed off abruptly as the loud of a loud, distant explosion rang through the air. His head shot up, looking in the direction of the sound like a hunting wolf sensing prey. Harvey looked up too, with a more gentle curiosity. "Wh-What's...?"
    Houlden didn't speak. He stood, grabbing Harvey and yanking him up too before breaking into a fast run back the way they'd come. Harvey followed, confused as usual, choosing not to argue.
    But when they came back to the clearing the bandits had been in before, Harvey saw nothing but discourse. Tents were catching fire, bandits rushing about to pack what they could as explosions rang around the perimeter every few seconds, blasting a bandit ten feet in the air now and again. Harvey's eyes widened as chaos filled the camp. He looked at Houlden and for the first time saw emotion in the thief's eyes. Panic, and anger. He didn't even look at Harvey as he ordered him to stay where he was before he ran off to help his fellow bandits.
    Harvey watched him go, and disappear into the crowd with the rest of the scrambling thieves. He swallowed and bent his elbows so his bound hands were close to his chest. He bit his bottom lip in hesitation. He slowly stepped backwards, looking around. His confidence rose as he saw nobody was giving him an ounce of attention and he turned and fled without another moment's hesitation.
    He ran through the forest, which was completely unfamiliar to him. Although, everything in this world was unfamiliar to him. Harvey's heart was racing, his lungs beginning to burn as he ran faster and faster. Finally, when he felt like his lungs were going to catch fire, he tripped on a root and fell hard on his shoulder on the ground, sure something was bleeding.
    "Whoa, hey, hey, slow down, Sonic." Suddenly, Harvey heard a vaguely familiar voice. Whoever it was grabbed his arms, pulling him up. They weren't exactly gentle, but they definitely weren't aggressive.
    Harvey stumbled back instinctively, looking up at them. Immediately, he froze as he recognized him. The man he ran into in the woods was tall, and had blue skin. Patches were scaled and shiny like a fish. Fins were on his cheeks, gills on his neck. He wore a light grey collared shirt and darker grey pants with no shoes.
    Standing in front of him was the fish; the amphibian.
    Husky.