The Divine Farmer Of Monster Meat

Chapter 6: Scavengers Arrive

The echo of Felipe’s own voice, vibrating from the gills of the mushroom, seemed to hang in the air long after the sound died. Mariana didn’t waste time with shock; she was already moving, her boots crunching softly as she pressed her back against the bunker’s jagged wall.

"Felipe," she hissed, her eyes locked on the entrance of their hideout. "Forget the mimicry. We’ve got company. Three of them, coming from the west. They’re moving fast, and they’re carrying gear."

Felipe blinked, shaking his head as if to dislodge the surreal sound. "Wait, did you hear that? The mushroom it."

"I heard it," she snapped, cutting him off. "But unless you want us both dead, put your focus on the perimeter. Can those things move or not?"

Felipe looked down at the cluster. They were still, their fleshy caps pulsing with a dull, rhythmic light. He felt a sickening surge of panic. If they were sentient enough to mock him, what would they do when the shooting started?

"I don't know," Felipe muttered, wiping cold sweat from his neck. "They acted on instinct before. Let’s hope they aren't planning a mutiny."

"They don't have to like us, they just have to be hungry for whoever’s coming," Mariana said, pointing her spear toward the opening. "Get down."

Through the haze of the wasteland's grey dawn, three figures emerged. They looked like desperate survivors, draped in scavenged scraps of synthetic cloth, their faces covered by rusted breather masks. The one in the lead held a heavy, jury-rigged kinetic rifle, its barrel rattling with every step.

"I can smell the protein," the leader shouted, his voice muffled by his mask. "Don't bother hiding! We know there’s a grower in here!"

Felipe crouched behind the leather-vines, his heart hammering against his ribs. "They’re scavengers. They want the harvest."

"Obviously," Mariana muttered, her grip tightening on the bone-spear. "Keep low. If they step over the threshold of the vines, I’ll take the leader. You try to get the other two to stop moving."

"Stop moving? You mean kill them?" Felipe asked, his voice cracking.

"I mean neutralize them before they put a hole in you," she countered sharply. "This is the world now, Felipe. There is no middle ground."

The scavengers stopped ten yards out. The leader raised his rifle, aiming it blindly toward the bunker’s interior. "Look, we don't want to burn the place down. Just hand over the fruit and the tech, and maybe we don't turn you into target practice."

Felipe felt a strange, cold clarity wash over him. He wasn't just a victim anymore. He looked at the mushrooms, then at the blue-glowing lattice of the vines.

"System," he whispered, his eyes wide as he accessed the internal interface. "Can I direct the biomass? Can I tell them where to strike?"

[Instruction: Overriding passive defense. Active targeting enabled. Warning: Sustained cognitive drain in progress.]

"Do it," Felipe hissed.

"Felipe, what are you doing?" Mariana asked, noticing the intense, glassy look in his eyes.

"Trust me," he said. He reached out with his mind, grabbing hold of the hum that radiated from the mushrooms. He felt the cold, damp intelligence of the fungi, a singular, primal desire for nutrients. He pushed his own intent into them: Defend. Secure. Consume.

The ground beneath the scavengers suddenly rippled. The leather-vines didn't just pulse; they surged, tearing through the surface of the dry, packed earth like angry, blue-tipped snakes.

"What the hell?" the leader shouted, stumbling back as a vine whipped around his ankle, dragging him down into the dirt.

"It’s a trap!" one of the other scavengers screamed, raising a makeshift blade.

"Mariana, now!" Felipe yelled.

Mariana didn't hesitate. She lunged forward, moving with a predator’s grace. She sidestepped the scavenger’s wild swing, the tip of her spear finding the gap in his armor with clinical precision. He collapsed, clutching his side.

The third scavenger turned to run, but the mushroom cluster the same one that had protected Felipe earlier erupted from the ground in front of him. Stalks elongated, weaving into a thick, pulsating wall of flesh that blocked his exit.

"Get back!" the scavenger yelled, swinging his weapon at the mushrooms.

As soon as the steel touched the mushroom cap, the cluster flared with a blinding, bio-electric discharge. A crackling arc of blue energy jumped from the fungi to the scavenger, throwing him backward into the dust, where he lay twitching.

Silence returned to the sector, save for the heavy, ragged breathing of the participants. The leader, still pinned by the vine, looked up at Felipe with eyes wide with terror.

"You," he wheezed, his mask cracked. "You’re an abomination. That’s not a farm. That’s a monster."

Felipe stepped out from the cover of the vines, his hands trembling but his stance firm. "It’s a living wall. And you’re trespassing."

Mariana walked over, standing beside Felipe, her spear tip resting millimeters from the leader's throat. "You’re lucky he’s a soft-hearted idiot. I would have put a hole through you the second you raised that gun."

"You... you won't survive this," the leader spat, ignoring the threat of the spear. "You think you’re the only ones who found a cache? There’s a war party sweeping the western ridge. They’re coming for the protein, and they’ve got hardware that makes that pop-gun of yours look like a toothpick."

Felipe looked at Mariana. The urgency in her eyes confirmed the danger. "A war party? How many?"

"Fifty, maybe sixty," the scavenger laughed, a wet, rattling sound. "They’ll tear your little garden to pieces and use your bones for mulch. You’re already dead."

Mariana kicked the scavenger in the shoulder, sending a jolt of pain through him. "Is he lying, Felipe? Can you feel if he’s lying?"

Felipe focused on the mushrooms. Their pulses seemed to synchronize with the scavenger’s heartbeat. "He’s telling the truth. There’s something... something big moving toward the ridge."

"We move," Mariana decided, pulling her spear back. "We take what we can and we abandon the site."

"Wait," Felipe said, looking at the leader. "Take him with you. Tell them the territory is taken. If they come, they’ll find nothing but a field of hungry plants."

The leader scrambled to his feet, limping away into the grey mist. "You’re insane! They’ll find you regardless!"

Felipe watched him disappear, then turned to the bunker. His hands felt heavy, his energy reserves depleted by the effort of controlling the mushrooms.

"Why did you let him go?" Mariana asked, checking her gear. "He’s going to lead them right to us."

"He’s not," Felipe said, reaching down to grab his pack. He caught sight of something near the scavenger’s discarded gear. A small, metallic blinking light a tracker.

He picked it up, feeling its tiny, rhythmic pulse against his palm. "They didn't just want the food, Mariana. They wanted us to lead them to the source."

Mariana’s eyes narrowed. She took the tracker, crushing it beneath her heel with a sharp, satisfying crunch. "Then we’ve got a head start. But we don't have time to mourn the plants."

Felipe looked back at his garden the pulsing, blue-lit life he had created. He felt a pang of loss, but beneath it, a cold, hardening resolve.

"We’ll grow more," Felipe said, his voice steady. "And next time, we’ll make sure they don't just protect us. We’ll make sure they bite back."

"Good," Mariana said, offering him a hand. "Because the war party isn't the only thing waiting in the dark. Come on, we’ve got a long walk ahead of us."

As they stepped out into the expanse of the wasteland, the mushrooms behind them flickered once, twice, and then went dark, as if sensing their master had left them behind. Felipe didn't look back. He kept his eyes on the horizon, moving into the grey, ready to build something that could finally survive the night.