The Dungeon Anarchist's Cookbook (Dungeon Crawler Carl, #3)

by Matt Dinniman

“I should have left Mongo on the platform with Katia so she doesn’t get lonely,” Donut said. We reached the spot. The station was now a distant speck of light. I could feel the vibration of the approaching train on the track. It was a small rumble, but growing. “She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.” “If she is, then why do you keep telling her what to do? You didn’t even ask her if she wanted to get giant. You just shoved the backpack at her and told her to do it.” “She likes it,” I said. “But what if she didn’t?” “Look who’s talking,” I said. “You with your boots and purple mohawk nonsense.” “That’s different. Fashion is different than making someone change. You keep telling her to be herself, but you’re the one making her change the most of all.” “I…” I paused. Donut was right. But in the words of the AI, this wasn’t Dr. Phil. We didn’t have the luxury of spending all day making sure we weren’t stepping on each other’s feelings. I didn’t want to be a jerk, but I also wanted to keep her alive. “You know what, you’re right, Donut. Next time I’ll ask her.” Donut patted me on the head. “Good boy, Carl.”

“I don’t know if any have had this sort of view, but navies have a long history of keeping cats on board. Remind me sometime, and I’ll tell you the story of Unsinkable Sam. He was a famous cat from World War II who survived multiple ship sinkings.” “I didn’t know about this,” Donut said. “So he was a hero cat?” “Every boat he served on ended up at the bottom of the ocean. I don’t know if that makes him a hero.” “But he survived?” “Yep,” I said. “Ended up dying of old age.” “Sounds like a hero to me,” Donut said.

I thought of everybody here with me now. They’d all jumped into certain death, just to save me. Me. I couldn’t have survived without them. All my life, I’d felt alone. And now, at the edge of the apocalypse, I finally realized how much I needed other people.