Chapter 77: Old Friends
The trip down the mountain was as exhausting as ever, but at least Simon had no need to look over his shoulder now that the apex predator of this particular level was dead. The only thing that troubled his sleep now were memories of the same trip he’d taken with Freya so long ago, and he passed several good campsites as he went, just to make sure he didn’t dredge up any more memories than he had to.
At the base of the mountain, he reached a familiar game trail that led to a familiar road. Here, he parted ways from his experience. With Freya, he’d gone south to avoid the zombies that he’d thought were taking over the world.
This time, he knew better. In fact, as far as he was concerned, the world should be zombie-free now. So, he headed north in search of the village of Slany. That didn’t stop him from finding one more familiar sight, though.
That evening, while he strolled north in search of an inn or even a tavern where he could get a bite, he found a small camp with a very familiar merchant’s wagon under attack. Several people were already dead, and those that still stood were fighting for their lives against goblins, but still, Simon had trouble taking his eyes off the wagon itself.
It was like the world was taunting him. It was the very same tinkerer's wagon that he and Freya had lived in for weeks until they’d finally sold it in Crowvar. It was even being pulled by the same aging mare.
For a moment, he didn’t understand how that could possibly be the case, but then he realized what happened. “That wagon had to come from somewhere,” he told himself as he walked forward. “Somewhere in the range of a man who'd been bitten might have made it to the tavern we found him in before he turned…”
Simon regarded the man bludgeoning one of the goblins to death. It had latched onto his leg and he was trying to get it off with the smoldering piece of firewood. Simon should have been helping him, but he couldn’t; it was the same merchant he’d killed so long ago when the man had turned into a zombie in the tavern. Only the man wasn’t dead yet.
Instantly, Simon sprung into action. He unsheathed his sword and came in swinging. The man probably would have been able to save himself. He had before against the zombies, after all, but the other man that was with him had already been gutted, so time was of the essence there.
The little monsters didn’t see him until it was too late. Even with Simon’s clumsy body and chubby fingers, half a minute later, all the goblins were dead, and he was dealing with the dying man.