First Fixer
By James Jakins
()
About this ebook
Garack Bloodfist is an orc. A former bandit, warrior, monster hunter. His name is legend in the country of his birth. You can call him Gary.
In the year since they were forced to relocate to Summervale, Virginia, Gary has made it his mission to help his extended family of orcs and goblins assimilate into American society.
When he learns of a job opportunity with a construction company Gary wastes no time in securing the positions for some of his fellow orcs. But he soon learns that there were only openings because something had happened to the old crew.
He finds the cause of the crew's disappearance when some of them return, changed, with eyes that turn red and teeth that are a little too sharp.
Gary takes it upon himself to fix the problem, because if he doesn't who will? He is particularly suited to solving the problem. He does have some experience with stakes and fire after all.
First Fixer is a prequel novella to Jack Bloodfist: Fixer, and the first story to star Gary Bloodfist, Summervale's first orc fixer.
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First Fixer - James Jakins
Also by James Jakins
Broken Redemption
Knights of the Dead God
Gods of the Broken Sea
Jack Bloodfist
Jack Bloodfist: Freelancer
Jack Bloodfist: Fixer
Knit, Purl, Slip
Unravelled
Thunder's War
Son of Thunder
Standalone
First Fixer
Knit, Purl, Slip
Where There Are Dragons
First Fixer
A Gary Bloodfist Novella
James Jakins
Robber’s Dog PubCopyright © 2017 by James Jakins
Edited by Silver Jay Editing
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
One
My name is Garack Bloodfist and I am an orc. Full-blooded, strong, proud. You can call me Gary.
The story I’m going to tell you took place about a year after my family had relocated to the city of Summervale, Virginia. How did orcs end up in Virginia? Well, that’s a potentially longer story that involves lying wizards, angry gods, and a small bit of inter-dimensional travel. The important takeaway from that story, though, is that you need to know a guy.
I know a guy. In fact, I know a few. The wizard that opened the doorway for us was just one; I’m also poker-buddies with the best damn butcher this side of the Mississippi, and happen to be on a first-name basis with a drow princess pretending to be a detective—I’ll get to her—but for the sake of this story, because we have to start somewhere, I want to tell you about the guys from poker night.
I learned a long time ago that when it comes to cards, it’s sometimes a good idea to lose. Especially when the others around the table are wealthy and/or connected.
I know that might sound counterintuitive, but trust me, you get a lot more from people if they’re happy to see you. They tend to be less happy to see you if every time they do you take their money.
I know, I know, that shouldn’t be an issue at a friendly game among friends, but I’d learned to play cards with other orcs. I’d gotten tired of having to beat the shit out of friends every time I won a hand, so I made sure I lost more than I won and I kept my new friends happy to see me.
One of the first things I learned when we arrived on Earth was that all the most important decisions were made by fat old men sitting around a table smoking cigars and drinking cheap alcohol—not too different from the last world, really. And while the decisions made in this room were not world-changing, they occasionally changed the world for individuals.
I folded—a pair of kings—and Larry laughed as he slid the pile of bills from the middle of the table to his own slowly growing pile.
King high, boys.
He dropped his worthless hand on the table and we all groaned dramatically.
The cards were gathered up and Ed—the butcher I told you about—shuffled the deck. So what’s happening with your latest crew, Larry?
Ed asked as he began to deal the cards.
Fuck ‘em,
Larry said as he inspected his new hand.
What’s that?
I asked. Larry owned a local construction company, and lately business had been doing pretty well for him. So well that he’d recently had to outsource the labor for a few of his sites.
Larry shook his head. Got a call this morning. New crew didn’t show up at the site so the foreman went round to the motel. Figured it had just been a rough first night at the Bearded Lady. Nothing. Bastards had just packed up and left town.
Sam—Summervale’s fifth-best barber, out of five—let out a humorless laugh. Well, that’s what you get for hiring a crew from West Virginia. No work ethic up there. If it’s not coal or welfare they don’t give a shit.
Our final player, Ben, shook his head. Probably just got offered higher pay somewhere else.
Ben stood out from the rest of the players in the dimly lit, smoke-filled room. For one, he was better-dressed, in a well-tailored suit and custom-made shoes. Helped that his family owned half the city. The other way he was different was that he was a gnome.
No one seemed to care about that. If anyone suspected the man was anything other than a very short human, they didn’t say anything about it. What they did care about was the fact that the son of a bitch was loaded.
They all mumbled their agreement to Ben’s observation. I sat and considered Larry’s situation.
What exactly did you need the crew for?
I asked after everyone else had settled down.
Larry gave me a look that a year before might have ended with him bleeding out on the floor. To build shit, Gary.
I rolled my eyes. What shit, Larry?
Larry seemed to be considering another snarky comment, but thought better of it. Thought I’d mentioned it before, but there’s a little housing project on the edge of town. Cookie-cutter houses the whole way. I won the bid for a few lots.
And I’m guessing you just need bodies?
I asked.
Larry shrugged. At this point anyone that can swing a hammer or hold a wall up would be good enough.
Ben spared me a quick glance over his cards. You know, Larry,
he said, rearranging his hand, I happen to know that our good friend Gary has some rather large cousins.
It’s true,
I agreed, offering Ben a grateful smile. My brother worked for Ben on his ranch. Kaga had been the fist’s Warg-tamer. By comparison, horses were the easiest thing in the world to break. Ben was aware of what I was. Even if I was the first orc he’d ever met, he knew what it meant.
Kaga’s position on Ben’s ranch had been my first successful job placement attempt. It was partially my fault we were stuck here, so I saw it as my responsibility to make sure everyone lived as comfortably as possible.
Larry seemed to grasp the unspoken message in Ben’s statement. He gave me serious consideration. They as big as you are?