Chapter 348: La Piedra
The warriors from the Crossroads drifted into a streamlined formation that was vaguely triangular, conserving energy as they literally just ran down the Pan-American Highway. Sparrows, finches, chickadees, and wrens fled from their path, but the few Primal Constructs that appeared were basically run over. The route was the next segment of planned expansion, so many hunters were already involved in taming the region that left Panama City and worked toward South America.
The aerodynamic pattern of the warriors was reminiscent of their own flock of migratory birds, settling in for a long trip between seasons. They placed Coop in the center, like he was some kind of dignitary in need of protection. Though they were barefoot and lightly armored, they had no trouble following the eroded roads away from the city.
Before they left the confines of Panama City, after Coop recognized the formation, he was on the verge of suggesting he simply mistjump on his own. It didn’t seem like a long-distance run to the next location would be that efficient when compared to applying his movement abilities, but as they picked up speed, he realized that the indigenous villagers that had been hidden away in the Orange Walk District of Belize had progressed far beyond their modest beginnings. They had gained upwards of 200 levels in half as many days, an impressive feat considering they hadn’t been involved in any events since Coop first met them. With the levels had come specialized builds designed for streamlined travel and surgical strikes.
If they hadn’t allowed Coop to cruise in the middle of their formation, he would have been incapable of keeping up on foot. They obviously lacked the raw acceleration of someone like Camila with her Interceptor class, and individually they couldn’t hope to match up to Coop’s raw Agility stats, but their repeated chants allowed them to settle into a smooth rhythm that may have been unbeatable across longer distances. Every step was greater than an olympic long jump thanks to the boosts that were refreshed with each stanza, and every foot placement was perfectly aligned so that their gaits went unchanged no matter how the terrain was altered.
The hypnotic exercise tapped into something subconscious that reminded Coop of his grinds, but it was a shared experience that spread across the entire squad. They all breathed in unison, their feet landing securely without any deliberate consideration, drumming the pavement with a cadence that matched the chants. They shared the burden, boosting each other as much as they were boosted. As the hours went by, none of them demonstrated any fatigue, but the distance that they covered was undeniable.
Coop felt like he was an ancient warrior running down desperate prey that lacked the stamina of his hunting companions, but wasn’t ready to give up the ghost. The impression that their success was inevitable was something Coop ended up enjoying more than he expected. It was a feeling of teamwork he had mostly eschewed in favor of solitary combat, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction of being a part of such a cooperative element.
The highway rapidly deteriorated as they moved away from Panama City, at first maintaining some semblance of integrity, but quickly relinquishing the hold of civilization to the savage wilds. There was enough foundation for off road capable vehicles to successfully follow the road, if such transportation had still existed, but Coop wouldn’t have considered it safe. The road continued to diminish as they moved, its regression marked by increasingly large potholes and eventually full-blown sinkholes filled with flowing muddy water.
Before much longer, the highway was merely a course of cratered rubble. Then it faded even further, until it was nothing but dirt that seemed rich in nutrients, completely free from the augmentations of human development. The dirt path lasted less distance than the pavement, transforming again so that it was a simple bed of low weeds, finally being swallowed by nature such that it was more of a suggestion than an actual route. It was at that point that Coop was really glad he hadn’t just let his spear rip, since as the jungle thickened, he realized what a challenge navigation became. He had witnessed the entire process of civilization breaking down beneath the erosive pressure of the assimilation, and it had all been along a single road.
The warriors of the Crossroads never slowed down, maintaining their formation even as the trees encroached on their path. They managed to skip across entire rivers, flowing with murky brown water, or trickling between stony ground, without the slightest hitch in their steps. Before Coop knew it, they were traversing through a proper rainforest, one that encompassed millions of square miles throughout the continent of South America, and it was just the beginning: the fringe of something much greater.
The air was sticky with humidity and thick with the scents of damp earth and floral blooms. Sweat dripped from Coop’s brow, despite his controlled exertion. It was the kind of place that would have been difficult to stay cool in even if he remained stationary, and not because of the temperature, but because of the humidity. The air struggled to flow through the dense undergrowth that they briskly passed, weighing heavily on the ecosystem. Even sunlight barely filtered through the canopy, only revealing itself in fragmented shafts before it illuminated the vibrant green hues of outstretched leaves, never quite reaching the forest floor.
The ground was a treacherous mixture of muddy fallen leaves and unseen roots. Coop had no idea how they all padded so confidently through, because every step he took seemed like a gamble, testing his balance against the slope of the hills. If it wasn’t for the party-wide chants guiding his feet, he was sure he would have been stuck hiking through the underbrush for weeks before he made any substantial progress, slipping and tripping as he went. After less than an hour, he already missed the deteriorated highway. For as rough as it had been, it was way easier to follow.
They flashed through the open spaces at the edge of rivers or across the rocky bluffs that were too dubious for larger plants to take root, eating through the distance with the steady gaits of ancient hunters. Their breathing gradually grew more labored, but the jungle was loud, with the chirping of unseen birds, conversing across miles and the buzzing of countless insects as they avoided thick webs of spiders hidden throughout. As fast as the warriors were, the wildlife recognized their presence, tolerating in ways that wouldn’t be afforded to the Primal Constructs.