The pain after plummeting what felt like a hundred miles from the sky didn’t do much for the hangover. No divine void had broken my fall, no holy light had cushioned my landing.

  “Thanks, Rumiel,” I muttered, staring down into the muck.

  The scent of damp earth filled my nostrils as I tried to process my predicament. My mission had seemed simple enough: bring booze back to Distilly. But how? I was stuck in some unknown wasteland, and no part of this was going according to plan.

  I pushed myself up from the ground and scanned my surroundings. Nothing but dirt and crag, with what seemed like a thicket of dead trees in the distance. Just as I was starting to get my bearings, something odd caught my attention—two bodies, face-down in the dirt. Their bottoms pointed straight up into the air like two misplaced landmarks in an empty wasteland.

  I rubbed my eyes, still unsure if this was some cruel joke. But no, they were real. And unconscious.

  I stood on shaky legs, my curiosity getting the better of me. A few steps closer, and I could see more clearly. One of them was a woman—short, with messy auburn hair tied in a loose ponytail. She wore a weathered leather vest, dark pants, and boots that screamed "I've been everywhere and done everything," or at least that’s what I assumed. I guess Rumiel hadn’t blessed me with much better, as what I was wearing seemed like it was dug out from a hole. Her face was mostly hidden by the dirt, but it was clear she wasn’t in a good state.

  Next to her was a tall, muscular man sprawled out just the same. His dark brown hair hung limp like a dead octopus. He wore a dark cloak, the kind that looked like it belonged to a brooding hero, but right now, he looked more like someone who’d just been kicked in the head by an invisible foe. His muscles were impressive, but the way he lay there made him seem less like a warrior and more like someone caught off guard.

  I couldn't help but shake my head. “Great. I land in some random world, and the first thing I see is two people passed out face-first in the dirt. Fantastic.”

  I debated whether to wake them, but before I could get close enough, the woman groaned, shifting slightly before pushing herself onto her hands and knees. She coughed, spitting out a mouthful of dirt. “Ugh… I asked for a Bloody Mary, not a bloody nose, Rumiel.”

  The man stirred next to her, letting out a low grunt as he rolled onto his back. His eyes blinked open, still groggy. He stared up at the sky for a moment, disoriented, before his gaze landed on me.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Who are you?” he growled, his voice rough but steady.

  I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “I could ask you the same thing.” He didn’t seem hostile so I introduced myself. “But anyway, my name’s Barrett Walker. I won a free skydiving session from a lazy angel, but she forgot to give me the parachute. And you two?”

  The woman wiped the back of her hand across her face, smearing dirt onto her cheek. “Name’s Sherry. So, you’ve met Rumiel, huh?”

  The man groaned, rubbing his temples. “Meryl. Was about to grab another beer at the bar, but Rumiel decided to whisk me away and drop me out of the sky like a sack of potatoes.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I guess you guys were the companions she was talking about?”

  Sherry struggled to her feet, brushing dirt off her clothes. “So, how many beers was it?”

  Meryl puffed out his chest and exhaled dramatically. “Enough to forget the details, but not enough to wake up next to a drain in some alley.”

  “I had nine whiskey sours before I left the bar last night,” I said with a grin, stretching my arms overhead. “Two off my record.”

  Sherry dusted off her sleeves, a self-satisfied grin creeping across her face. “Ah, the trusty whiskey sour—”

  “Tart and sour just like the world!” we all chimed in unison, the words almost a reflex.

  We stared at each other for a moment before bursting into hearty laughter.

  “Well, if it’s three drunks she wanted, then Rumiel found the right people for the job,” I chuckled, clutching my stomach.

  We helped each other up, brushing off any loose dirt before glancing around at the barren landscape. “Looks like we’re stuck together. Might as well figure out where we are and how to get out of here.”

  Sherry gestured to the east in the direction of the dead thicket. “Looks like there’s a treeline that way. Might find some clue about where civilization is.”

  Meryl nodded. “Better than standing around here like idiots.”

  We started moving toward the trees, but then a deep, guttural growl echoed through the air. We froze.

  Sherry darted behind me, pushing me forward like I was some kind of human shield. “Please tell me that was someone’s stomach,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

  “Nope,” Meryl said in a low, urgent whisper. “Sounds like trouble.”

  Another growl rumbled from the shadows of the trees. Then, two hulking figures emerged from the darkness. Wolves. But not just any wolves. Their fur was thick and bristled like steel wire, and their eyes glowed an eerie yellow. They were massive—easily the size of horses.

  “Aw, hell,” I muttered, squaring my shoulders. “Here comes the welcoming committee.”

  Without warning, the first wolf lunged. I barely had time to react before I dove out of the way, rolling in the dirt. The beast’s massive paws slammed into the ground where I had stood just moments before.

  Meryl didn’t hesitate. He grabbed a dead branch from the ground and swung it like a club, smashing it across the wolf’s face. The creature snarled but barely flinched from the impact.

  “Okay, nevermind, run!”