The Shovel System

[Ding!]

[User has acquired the Assault Shovel upgrade. Apply now?]

Jackie's new Shovel Self Defense training kicks in as he ponders the assault shovel. He nods, causing the message to fade away and a progress bar to appear in his screen. The old man feels the shovel squirming in his hand, the material crawling and changing colors as the shovel shortens into some new shape.

The progress bar completes moments later.

Jackie frowns and turns over the assault shovel in his hands. The vicious looking shovel is a meter long and made of matte black anodized steel. The knurled handle is a perfect fit for his old hands. The shovel feels much weightier in his hands. The head is flattened and angular with sharp leading edges, perfect for punching into the dirt or an enemy body. The shovel head's verticle sides have sharp serrations, perfect for sawing roots or dealing devastating chops.

Jackie sinks the shovel into the icy cap of the mountain and examines his menu. He notices the bleeding of shovel points, "Hmm, maintaining this Basic Environmental protection is sapping all my shovel points, I don't have more than a couple of hours left at this rate. I'd better make it to that forest to make a shelter before nightfall. I won't survive the night exposure at my age. ouch." He winces and rubs his gradually bruising skin. "Oh dear, that's bruising."

He pulls the shovel and eases down the treacherous mountain top. He pauses by the large crystals to examine the mysterious energies flowing around inside it. "I sure hope this isn't radioactive. I don't need cancer. Sure is pretty. Hmm." He admires it absent-mindedly before clarity returns to his eyes. "Uh oh, my shovel points are dropping quicker here. It must be something nasty."

The old man holds his leather hat and hurries away from the beautiful crystals on the peak of the mountain and descends. "Good thing it isn't too steep, I would just be stuck there. Lucky me." He comes across many cl.u.s.ters of those crystals in all colors and many different shapes as he makes his way down the snow-cap mountain.

He carefully prods the way through the compacted snow with his assault shovel, sinking it into the crust here and there to make sure he doesn't accidentally bury himself in some hidden hazard or crevasse.

His shovel plunges to his wrist on his next tentative poke and Jackie slams into the snow, knocking the breath out of him. His vision spins as his lips open and close, his lungs unable to draw any air. He wobbles unsteadily and brings himself to his knees, then pulls to standing, yanking his shovel out of the snow ahead. He totters there for a few moments as the edges of his vision blacken.

The world seems to steadily recede until it blooms in full color a moment later as he takes a deep inhale and exhale, then again and again. He leans on the shovel as he catches his breath and rubs his c.h.e.s.t.

"Doggonit, I got complacent looking at the crystals. Come on Jackie. I can do better than that." He meanders down the mountain for the rest of the day and arrives at the beginnings of the forest as the sun casts the sky in oranges and the towering trees into deep shadows.

He enters the forest of large alien arboreals. "Got to collect branches to make a shelter before dark. The floating wisps and streams of lights make it feel like a real fantasy forest. I hope there aren't any fantasy monsters lurking here to snatch me."

Jackie locates a promising campsite and uses his shovel to clear the debris and underbrush. He digs into the hard turf with his shovel, carefully pushing the blade into the dirt. He then starts choosing dried sticks and branches to haul back to camp, bundling them with vines and hefting them over his shoulder. The night grows closer as Jackie works. The shadows grow longer and thicker.

He uses a pair of thick branches to make a base, then lashes a row of sticks across it to create a make-shift cot. He uses another haul of sticks to build a lean-to roof over the bed and collects the broad leaves of the titan trees to cover it to keep the weather out.

The old man rests on the cot to take a breather and admire the swirling lights floating among the trees, and realizes that the trees seem to have glowing veins. "It's like a neon paradise. I bet my grandson would like it here." He grabs his shovel and leverages it to regain his feet and head back into the dark forest to gather more dried branches, and manages a final bundle. He returns and sets it aside.

Jackie takes his shovel in hand and picks a spot facing his shelter. He digs two holes into the ground and then kneels, maneuvering the shovel to create a tunnel between them.

The old man then builds a log wall across the fire pit to reflect the heat to his shelter and fills the cavity with dried branches of various sizes. He then uses his shovel to make shavings and a bundle of fiber that he places down near the fire pit.

"Hmm, If I remember right, I can use steel to strike this and make sparks." He nods at the head of his shovel. He pulls off his belt and uses the steel belt-buckle to strike the shovel head. "Nothing." He tries again, "Oh, what was that? I think I saw something!" He then takes a deep breath and sends the best strike he can on the shovel, throwing a shower of sparks into his tinder ball. The little ball starts smoking, so he leans down and cups it in his hands, lifting it to blow on it, nurturing the smoke into a small fire.

He limps over to the fire pit and places the fuel into the prepared wood pile and blows more, adding some more tinder to it as the smaller sticks start catching fire. Shortly the moderately sized sticks catch and then the largest ignite as the fire springs to life, showering Jackie in warmth on the cold night. He retrieves his belt and secures his pants.

"Haha, I can still do it." He eases down onto the makeshift cot and pulls a couple of large leaves over as a blanket. "I hurt so much. I don't know if I'll be able to get out of bed in the morning. What will I do for food? What about heart medication?"

He lays his shovel down and pulls his hat down to cover his face. "Hmm, It seems the Basic Environmental Protection turned off after I got down here to the forest. I'm left with twelve shovel points. I'm sure they are important."

Jackie drifts into a fitful sleep. Dreams about the climb down the mountain and his missing tools fill his night.

The sounds of birds chirping awaken Jackie, causing him to mutter and turn over on the hard cot. Pain shoots through his back and all across his body from his many bruises and abrasions. "Good Lord! That fudging hurts!" His eyes struggle open and see little streams of light filtering down from his leather hat. "Where am I?"

He swipes his hat off and looks at his haphazard campsite. He gazes at everything while his half-asleep mind registers what he sees. "Dagnabbit. I really am here!"

His stomach grumbles at him, causing him to pat it in a failed attempt to make his sudden hunger go away.

Jackie hears a branch snap behind his shelter, and his heart lurches to his throat, tension spreading and forcing him into silence and stillness. His eyes widen while his irises shrink to pinpoints and his b.u.t.t clenches, his hand reaching for his shovel.

Jackie hears a deep, booming voice speak behind his shelter.