Report - W.Caravan - ... WIC edition

Chapter 5 - New Day New Quadrant

"No no no no no please no, PLEASE NO, PLEAS-... thunder... It's just thunder... cunt"
Sigh it's moments like these where I ask [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] and [redacted] why I'm like this, because... I'm not. This situation is tense and it has a lot of value attached, I can't leave them to die, but... the hard part is only ahead of us. It would be nice if I could tell them that.
I can't sleep anymore I'm getting up. Maybe if they start fighting then I'll be there to stop it, if it isn't lightning this time
"Watchmen I'm going for a scouting mission, if we're clear then you can get an extra minute of rest"
"And what of your sle-"
"Take it while you can"
Carefully I place one arm on the wooden palisades, at least that's one thing they make well, one of the more quiet guys has some expertise with wood and he has some skill, and I leap over. My eyes finally open as I take a deep breath. And then I run. 100 meters, 200 meters, 300 meters, 400 meters all clear. I turn right at a 30 degree angle and I go 100 meters, 200 meters all clear. 30 more degrees and repeat. A 300 meter radius around the camp is safe and I hear them - they're far away. I run back n tell half the guards to take a break, the rest will do it in the morning.
It's not good to be tired now, but I doubt I can sleep so I'll have to make sure that everyone else is as ready as can be.
The roll call proceeds and CL tells everyone to pack up. There's a faint audible grumble and the expressions aren't the ones from a couple days back. This isn't good, but there's no time and I must remain vigilant. Once more I take up position as the de facto leader of this caravan, the only difference is I have skills and a reputation that demands respect.
The morning was cold, it couldn't be just me, and less than an hour later I counted our steps.
'The next set of quadrants'
now we have reentered the danger zone, but thankfully there's less trees so visibility has for once improved. Now let's make sure this doesn't mean they run when they see a branch crack in the distance. At least the clearer fields and flowers remind us... them of home. At least I can look for herbs.

The moods dropping and the clouds don't help. They're sporadic, unlike our mood, but everyone sees the dark outlines getting larger and larger. Rains coming and my senses aren't getting a break. For quite a while I've seen that there were at least 4 crawlers in a 150 to 200 meter distance from us. I think we're being followed, but there's too many nests around here, I can't risk waking up more just to get rid of an insignificant pack, assuming they're not scouts, so trudge along I must.
[2 hours later]
It's slightly past noon and things have gone bad fast, nearly back to the first day and night. The rain found us and it's clear that some minor rivers had broken a bank, for this soil is far too muddy, this area shouldn't receive double doses of rain.
Currently that's the least of my worries, seems we're being followed. Birds gather around, as if they know someone here will fall, and I hear a clanking sound in the distance. Similar to the caravaneers teeth when they get the shakes from the cold, but it's not as sudden and fast. The crawlers are communicating. No nests have been found yet, sure some were devastated by the supposed flood that swept through here, although the body count doesn't match. They are still here somewhere. It is in this tense situation where a decision must be made. If we rest we may relax some nerves, if we keep going we risk further exhaustion and perhaps the first serious mutiny. Staying in mud is a terrible idea, risking a fight with these guys is almost worse. We still have at least 3 weeks before the GSR, guess the provisions are coming out sooner, but under no circumstances shall we encamp here. We shall keep moving. 50 meters none, 100 meters few, 150 meters... couple more.
[35 minutes and 17 seconds later]
Good news I've found a dry patch where we can rest bad news we have been followed. [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted], the howlers clanking their tusks and moving with an added force, so that the hive may feel the tremors, and behind them is at least 1 charger.
"B1 you were right!" Forgot about the scout I sent out.
"There's some higher ground that hasn't experienced much flooding and appears stable enough for a camp!"
"Caravaneers turn left, shields clear the path for them. If a wheel breaks down now we may as well abandon the whole wagon"
And with the desperation of a runner with the goal in their sight did they walk. Now we pray that CL doesn't try to use this situation.
 "Hey, what was that?"
"What?"
"Saw something over in the trees"
"Crawlers?"
"[redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted]," [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted], sadly we can't stop moving.
"What if it was a crawler?"
"... Scouts, have you found it?"
"Yes sir, 10 more logs and we're there"
"then get to the back and search around for anything suspicious"
"What? You don't think we're actually being followed do you?"
"What I think is that the current situation is very uncertain for such a crew"
"Then we'll head to the back"
"No. One of you head to the left and the other to the right. If we are being followed they wouldn't attack the shield wall directly"
"But isn't that why they climb?"
"Last I checked no one here was deaf," [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted] [redacted].
A mound, it's a mound and so far it's the most precious thing we've seen since we lowered the drapes of the tents. Now is the time for fast-paced planning, their coming. 100 meters none, 150 meters few 200 meters nearly many, and they're all in unison. The scouts will see this see this soon enough and by then it will be too late. They have a charger in front, 4 scouts and behind them are the regular bitters. The mound is a sort of island -low foliage and distant trees. Any shield wall will be more than well protected, but their using the trees.
"Pushers!" I shout with a yet to have seen urgency.
"Roll the wagons around the bottom of the mound! NOW!"
In a confused panic everyone wraps around the mound in a circular formation.
"Shields grab the cargo and pull it out then break off the hide covers and flip them over to form a defensive wall"
"Wait the wh-"
"Anyone disobeys here and they die"
"You said we weren't being fo-"
"And we weren't until a few minutes ago now DID I GIVE ORDERS OR WHAT!"
It's hard to tell which is the fear of death and the fear of being whipped for failing to properly handle the cargo, even more so in the shaky expressions that they call a face. The cargo will be fine, if they don't reach us, and the rangers need the height. 
"Shields split into 2. One will carry the weapon and place it at cart height and await for their attack the other holds the shield in preparation for an aerial attack. Whoevers leftover stay in between the cracks in the wall. Rangers up top. Form a circle and aim for whatever gets close. Scouts guard them we don't have the time to equip you."
"Sir, what of the personal provisions wagon?"
Sigh, if this was a professional military force then I would give up instead of worrying about that.
"Move it to the back and keep it there!"
50 meters none, 100 meters none, 150 meters couple, 200 meters several alright good time. Defensive wall check and ranger position check. They won't come from the ground that much I guarantee and even this ad hoc crew should be able to deal with it. I take a deep breath. In the midst of the panic I determine that half are hardened by adrenaline. They are coming solely from the front and we outnumber the first wave. 
"Scouts, do you hear me?"
"Yes sir we heard the wagons falling way back"
"any sightings?"
"nadda"
"Stay here all of you"
"Is something coming?"
"Most certainly"
I brush in between some of the more ready shieldmen and I climb over the wall they've made. I hear the rumbling and it's slow, they're calling for reinforcements. They may be oversized bugs, but underestimation is one of the leading causes of a rapid death out here, they must have seen the quality of the caravaneers and preplanned for it. 
....................Yes, yes they did. They have stopped at 100+ metres. I haven't had the time to call in any friends though this time it may suffice. The 2nd wave is approaching. It's too inconsistent to understand who's who, which means it's a basic riff-raff. I have 332 of the finest inexperienced and uninformed men a being of my magnitude and stature can muster and opposing us is nearly 50 crawlers. When they approach I will attempt to determine their contents. Now it's time for the final move. I frequently get asked why I don't wear gloves and what the tiny tome I carry is for, it's for moments like these. I can't deal with the 4 eyes as I would regularly so I must rely on the skills me and B1 have developed and learnt from the past. 
I place my foot forward, off of the ledge of the cart and i take a minor plunge downwards. A step forward and then another one. Slowly picking up speed I move out of reach of the wall and the spears. Using my left hand I hold open the cracks in between the coats buttons and grasp the several pockets lining it's insides. The tome is always easy to find, the dagger is similar. Slowly the items are pulled out and placed in my palms. The left will carry the words needed to manipulate the waves, held solely in between my pointer and middle finger, and the right will give me the few bits of physical defense I pray to not use. 100 meters couple more, 150 meters few. Most went top side and the hissing sounds make it clear that spitters have arrived, very bad for this crew. The regulars shouldn't pose a threat as long as they don't take the long path and our shields hold. And the sound that doesn't originate from the trees - chargers. Only 3 so it won't be hard to deflect the charge, but they will attack simultaneously.
"Rangers aim above me!"
"Sir you aren-"
"Remember what I said. The best caravans are the ones that talk the least," If anyone still holds doubts about my prowess then my location alone should defeat any doubts.
Once more, deep breath and the eyes close. 50 meters couple more 100 meter-. If the men had been speaking louder then this could have been a disaster. Still I heard a faint rustle infront of me and my eyes opened. Before my nervous system had the time to administer the appropriate response, 2 dark brown legs appeared before me. As soon as my sight had registered it as a threat, It lunged at me.