Minecraft: Mob Squad: Never Say Nether: An Official Minecraft

I bolt awake, scrambling for my axe. I’ve heard that sound before. The book Lenna lent me said that zombies are the mobs that moan, and I don’t know how one spawned in our shelter, but I’m ready to fight this time. I’m not going to freeze and let someone else get hurt. I’m going to stand up and—

“Lenna,” the voice moans, and it’s definitely not a zombie.

Lenna is across the room in a heartbeat, kneeling by Mal’s bed. Since everything is so well lit for an underground hole, just like back home, I can see that Mal’s eyes are open and bloodshot.

“Got any of those cookies?” she asks in a wobbly voice.

Lenna produces cookies—which she didn’t offer to anyone else earlier, I notice—and helps Mal sit up to eat.

“We have chicken, too,” Lenna murmurs. “That’ll help you heal faster.”

“But I like your cookies better.”

“Mal?” Chug jerks upright and scrambles over to join Lenna at Mal’s bedside. “I was so worried. Are you okay? Can you move your arms and legs? How many fingers am I holding up? Wait, Lenna gave you cookies?”

Mal laughs weakly. “I’m okay. I can move everything a little, but I’m sore and tired. You’re not holding up any fingers. And you can’t have my cookies.”

I’m still sitting on the floor, axe in hand, and they’ve all utterly forgotten that I exist. It’s almost like I don’t, just now. They’re so happy to see one another, so happy that Mal is okay. I don’t know if any of my friends would be that happy about me. My mom would, but her happiness would be tempered with anger at whatever I’d done wrong to put myself at risk and make her worry or look bad. Edd and Remy would probably just laugh at me for nearly getting blown up.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

If we were back home, I’d take advantage of the chance to make fun of Mal and Lenna and Chug and call them wimps for caring so much. But out here, on my full first night beyond the town wall, I just wish I could be part of their circle.

“Is Jarro okay?” I hear Mal ask.

I look at the book in my lap like I’ve been reading it all along and not listening in on their private moment.

“Jarro?” Lenna prompts.

I look up. “Yeah, I’m fine. Singed off one of my eyebrows and my hearing is wobbly, but I think you took most of the blast.” I fiddle with the book’s binding. “Thanks for saving me. Sorry I got you blown up.”

Mal chuckles, but it’s a small sound. “That’s what I get for not bringing a cat along. I’m just glad everyone is all right.”

They all talk a bit more, and Chug nags Mal to eat some chicken, and eventually they all go back to sleep. I stay up a little later, listening to them breathing, but not in a creepy way. I’m an only child, and I’ve never really been this close to other people in such a vulnerable moment, when we’re all exhausted and hurt and unconscious. It’s always just been me and my mom. I wasn’t allowed to have sleepovers—or attend sleepovers—so it’s weird to me, how natural it is for the town weirdos to just curl up shoulder to shoulder and start snoring with one hand on a wolf’s side.

I must eventually fall asleep, as I wake up to Chug opening the door he made last night—which, honestly, still blows my mind. Back home, Elder Stu and Tok are the only people who know how to craft things, but apparently Chug can just make a door or bed out of practically nothing. I tuck Lenna’s book in my pocket—I’m not done with it, and I don’t want her to take it back until I’ve learned everything I can. I feel so much better today. I guess they were right about food and sleep being the best cure for anything. Lenna and Mal are still asleep, but Mal looks a little less pale and frazzled, and I feel the tiniest bit less guilty.

I don’t follow Chug outside, per se, but I do end up outside shortly after he does. He’s squatting down, feeding his pig potatoes and talking to it in a high-pitched, singsong voice, and as soon as he senses my presence, he stands and clears his throat.

“You better?” he asks, his voice much deeper. “Ready to walk?”

I wince. “I’m better, but my feet are definitely sore. Do you get used to it?”

He nods. “Yeah. The more you walk, the less walking hurts. But at first, it hurts a lot. I got injured pretty early on, last time we were out here, and I rode Thingy for a few days.”

My jaw drops. “You…rode that pig?”

Chug’s eyes narrow like he’s one step away from bopping me in the nose, which is how he usually tries to deal with me when he doesn’t like what I have to say. “Yes,” he enunciates clearly, “I rode that pig. It is very good to ride a pig, when you can’t walk on your own.” He pulls a saddle out of his pocket, and I can’t help shaking my head at what a neat trick it is. “And today Mal is going to ride the pig, and if you make fun of her, I will absolutely liberate several teeth from your face.”

I hold my hands up. “No problems here. Mal can have whatever she needs.” Before I really think about it, I say, “It would be pretty stupid for me to make fun of you out here when I’m the one who keeps doing stupid things, right?”

He nods. “Right.”

“So what can I do to help?”

He doesn’t smile, but he seems to accept my peace offering for what it is and tells me to go look for more meat. “Have your axe ready. There should be sheep, cows, and chickens out there. If you see a weird animal with an extra long neck, that’s a llama, and they’re not edible. If you stay away from the shade, no more creepers should be spawning.” His lips twitch, and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a helmet, which he slaps on my head. It makes it harder to see, but it also makes me feel that much safer. “Even you shouldn’t be able to hurt yourself on a bright morning like this. As long as you don’t drop your axe on your foot.” As he walks away, he calls, “So don’t drop your axe on your foot. In case that wasn’t clear.”

All things considered, it would be fair if he treated me a lot worse. I’d rather do work and help the group than have to listen to them sit around and talk about how I’m more trouble than I’m worth. Axe in hand, helmet tottering on my head, I venture out into the pretty green pastures. I didn’t tell Chug this, but…I’ve never actually done this before. I’ve never killed anything. My mom trades berries for meat and eggs, so we don’t have to keep any animals. I don’t want to do it, but I have to do it, so I will. I refuse to give the Bad Apples good reason to make fun of me because I can’t pull my weight.

I keep glancing behind me to make sure I can still locate our copse of trees. If I get lost out here, I’m the dead meat. I don’t know how to make a shelter like Mal can, and even if I did, all I have is an axe, which would take forever. I can’t make a crafting table or torches. I can’t even light a fire. I’m like a big dumb baby. So I scan the area ahead for movement while making sure I can get back to my—

Well, no. Not friends.

My group. Our camp.

There!

Something is moving in the grass, something brown and white. A cow? I’ve never been near a cow before—I’ve never been out of the Hub back home. I don’t know if cows are nice or mean. If Mal can take care of them, they can’t be that bad, right? If they were really vicious, they’d escape her farm and eat the whole town.

I sneak up, axe raised, as the cow watches me. Its big brown eyes blink, long black lashes making it look curious. It stomps a foot, and I stop.

It’s…really cute. Beautiful, even.

I can’t kill it.

But I have to.

My friends—I mean, the group. They’re depending on me. We need meat.

If we don’t have meat, we won’t survive. Mal won’t be able to heal, won’t be able to dig or fight. Even if we never find Tok, we still have to get back home.

I have to do this.

I have to turn this cow into food.

I take another step.

And another.

The cow shakes its head as if warning me away.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

I raise the axe.

I hold it overhead until my arm starts to shake.

The cow stares at me.

Another cow walks up beside it, tail twitching.

I can’t kill the cow now, not while its friend watches.

But I need to.

Two cows, twice the meat.

I hate this.

My mom would know what to do.

Even stupid old Chug would know what to do.

All I know is that the longer I stand here holding my axe, being blinked at by a cow, the less certain I am of everything in the whole world. The only thing I’m certain of now is that I can’t kill it. Whatever it takes to do that kind of violence, I don’t have it in me. Maybe I can threaten little stringy kids like Tok or make fun of kids like Lenna or punch jerks like Chug, but I can’t actually kill anything.

I let the axe drop and shove it back in my pocket. I notice that there’s still a lead in there, the one the kidnappers used to tie me to the tree. Aha! I toss it around the first cow’s neck and tug, and the cow follows along behind me in a friendly enough manner. The second cow follows it, as do three more I hadn’t noticed. I am bringing home the beef!

I can’t stop grinning at how clever I am. Sure, I can’t kill the cow, but I’ll take it back to the camp, explain that I wasn’t sure where to hit it and wanted to preserve the meat and leather for future use. That makes me the hero, and then the other kids can show me what to do—by actually doing it themselves. Mission accomplished, and we get beef for breakfast.

We’re not too terribly far from the trees, but I’m going slowly to make sure the cows stay with me and don’t get upset. I think about naming the cow, but then I realize that you probably shouldn’t name things you’re going to eat. I’ve always wanted a pet, but my mom hates noise and mess. I found a kitten once, but she gave it to my aunt Cath to patrol the alley behind her shop.

As I approach, I can hear Chug making something on his crafting table. There’s a weird twanging noise, and I spot Lenna shooting arrows into a tree. Even Mal is sitting outside, eating a cookie by the fire and managing to stay upright.

“I found a cow!” I shout, and everyone turns to stare.

Mal stands, wobbling, her jaw dropping. “Oh my gosh!” she shrieks.

“What? No way! I don’t believe it!” Chug screeches.

“Jarro, that’s not a cow—” Lenna starts.

My smile falters. Have I brought back some sort of horrible monster that’s going to kill us all? Is this another kind of creeper, something I haven’t found in the Mobestiary yet? After yesterday’s accident, I didn’t possibly think I could mess up any worse, but…

“It’s a horse,” Mal cries, and I’ve never seen anyone so happy in my entire life.