Quest For Adventure: Attack of The Beast

Chapter 2.9: First, Mid, and Last Resort

Bert's plan was actually pretty simple. Since it was very unlikely that the citizens would object to The Beast's destruction, all it would take to gather them, was a plan that was sure to succeed, and have an as-minimal-as-possible death count. The only problem was, they didn't really have a plan  to defeat The Beast. All they had was 'get inside of The Beast, and throw everything they'd have at the Tick, and hope for the best.' 

"That's not gonna cut it." Shind said, when he heard what they had. "I mean, we might get a couple  people, but we can't just throw out a suicidal cause, and hope that everybody participates."

They had been discussing Bert's plan inside of their sandstone shack, six and a half days after they'd arrived.

Bert nodded. "Exactly." He replied. "That's where you come in, Shind."

Shind was floored. "ME ?! Y-... y-you actually need my  help for something? Me?"

Bert tapped his foot. "Preferably this month."

"I just... nobody's ever needed my help before. This is... wow."

Theodore stood up, and looked out the window. "The festival will be tonight."

"Festival?" Bert asked, shifting gears. "What festival?"

"The festival of ignorance. It's a festival to celebrate their last moments alive."

"What?!" Bert asked, standing up. As he did, he knocked his chair over onto the floor. "Theodore, do they know  when The Beast will attack this fort...?"

Theodore let the binds fall onto the window seal. "No, of course not. They are merely recognizing that resistance to Leon and his forces are futile." 

Shind chuckled. "Huh. I didn't know Leon even had  'forces,' until he brought 'em to our farm the other night. This whole time... I kinda' just thought he was working... you know, alone."

The room went silent for a moment. They all, for just a moment, shared a small feeling,  for some reason, that talking would just make everything worse. 

Theodore drummed his fingers on the wall. "As I was saying. Shind. You're the most average guy I know. If anyone here knows how these people would think, it has to be you."

"Ha." Shind chuckled, and leaned back on his chair, kicking his feet on the spruce table, causing it to creak slightly. "Thanks. Real inspirational. But... I'm not that kinda' guy."

Bert sat down, and stared at Shind. "Yes, yes you are. Look, I get that this must be strange to you. Everybody you've known for the past 4 months have just disappeared."

Shind slowly brought himself down to the floor. "What are you--...? Why are you bringing that up? What are you trying to say...?"

"I'm trying to say that you can't keep being dead weight anymore, god damn it!" in harmony with damn, Bert slammed his fist down on the table, breaking part of it off. It fell to the floor, and broke in half. 

Bert shook his head, seething. "I lost... my goddamned brother  because of that thing. I just... I... I just don't... I... I don't..." He collapsed on the floor, and began sobbing. Theodore knealt down, and hugged him.

Shind sighed, and stood up. "You know what? I don't need this." He turned around.

"Shind." Theodore said. "Where are you going?"

"Somewhere else!" Shind yelled, throwing his hands in the air. "I'm not a hero! I'm not a guy who can just... do anything ! I'm sick, and tired of this! I'm a ranch-hand, not a fucking-!" He cut himself off. "Never mind. Whatever. See you."