by Wolfe Locke
Available Upgrades
Price
Investment
Iron Skin
2
2/5
Staggering Blow
1
1/10
Quick Step
3
0/3
Blighted Touch
5
0/2
Accumulate
1
3/10
Fire Resistance
2
0/5
Ice Resistance
2
0/5
Lightning Resistance
2
0/5
Dodge
3
0/3
Basic Targeting
3
1/3
Augment Jump
2
1/5
Thorn Skin
1
1/10
Reflective Damage
2
1/5
**Further Upgrades**
15
1/10
I was stronger than I’d been, but it was the unused points that really drew my attention. I’d seen what magic could do. I’d been on the receiving end of it a couple of times already, so I decided to put all my points there.
Without saying goodnight to Napoleon, I let myself crash on the oh-so welcoming comfort of my bed. I really needed to catch up on rest, especially if tomorrow was going to be as busy as Glenn said.
In other news, the mark on my chest still read three.
Chapter Two: The First Day of the Rest of My Life
* * *
When I woke up the next morning, Napoleon was sitting on my chest and looked like a nightmare Do-It-Yourself project after thanksgiving. It was so bad that it was akin to something somebody picked up from an influencer off of social media.
Which is to say he was back in his patchwork dog form, and he was curled up in a little ball and snoring up a storm.
Alright. Maybe not a nightmare. What else could I say? I loved dogs, and Napoleon was basically my dog. He wasn’t a dog, but he sure did act like one.
The little guy was sort of endearing in a hideously ugly and extremely disturbing sort of way. The mimic had grown on me. That is, until he buried what I assumed were his teeth in my arm like a rabid animal, almost as if he could sense my thoughts and wanted to punish me.
“Augh,” I said, shaking him off. He landed on the ground with a thud and growled at me, a half-hearted sound that made me aware he wanted to play. Napoleon didn’t really want to attack, but he was a glutton for attention. And it was a good thing he was being playful since I really didn't want him to attack either.
It hurt a lot.
Maybe biting me was some kind of warped sign of affection for a mimic. I still didn’t fully understand how Napoleon worked, and I'm not sure if the mimic understood our special bond either. But it didn't kill me again, so I had to count that as a win.
My arm was now bleeding after his special love and care. I wiped the blood off on the pillowcase and tried to avoid looking at the arm. It resembled what I always thought an accident with a cheese grater would look like if you slipped.
I sat up with a groan and looked out the window. It was early, and the sun was still low on the red horizon. It was hard to believe how much the world had changed.
Outside, I could see people walking around the block in their uniforms. Crusaders. They were setting up more walls and barricades as they pulled material from nearby houses and shoved cars over to fortify walls. When Edgar had said training started at first light, I guess I hadn’t taken him seriously. Turns out, he meant it. The symbol of how things were going to be from now on was right in front of me, a newly approved item for my room that would respawn with me.
Right there on the back of my door, a grey uniform.
“Lirai,” I said, glaring at the uniform. “What’s the point of that? That wasn’t there before.”
Notification- Query – New Item
Details: Crusader’s uniform: Third Class Pleb. All recruits must be in uniform at all times while on duty. Has the ability to repel minor damage and augment strength while equipped. Also indicates current ranking and standing within the Crusaders.
“Who put it there?” I asked, searching around for any sign of entry. “Did the Crusaders come in overnight or something? I don't remember approving the request. This room should be off limits."
She didn’t respond. Typical AI. Only helpful when they want to be.
I didn’t like the thought of Edgar creeping around in my room at night, somehow able to get around the safeguards, and somehow able to avoid waking me up. Regardless, I put the uniform on anyway. It didn’t seem like I had much of a choice.
It wasn't the worst thing I'd ever worn. I'd been a frequent shopper at Goodwill, so I feel like I can make that claim with confidence. Outside of the fact someone was inside my living area, the biggest gripe I had with the uniform is that it didn't fit well. The pants were too tight in the thigh area and far too loose across the chest and arms. Suffice it to say, I wasn't a fan.
“Really, Napoleon?" I asked the mimic, not really expecting an answer. I just needed a sounding board. "This is what they give me? This is basically garbage.”
He growled at me from under the bed, and I knew enough to leave him alone. Pet or not, domesticated or not, he was still a wild animal. Or is he a monster monster? He looked at the mimic one more time. Well, who knows, and who cares? He’s a wild mimic, and I shouldn’t forget that. I looked at myself in the mirror and sucked in my gut a little. I'd lost weight already, but if the tightness of the uniform was any indicator, I had a lot more to lose. Or they just run small. Who knows?
I shoved some chocolate in my mouth and headed out the door. I really needed to find someone to make me real food. I’d consumed nothing but candy for the last few days, plus the beer I’d had at the bar full of demi-humans. It wasn’t that big a change from my normal diet, but at some point, I needed to eat real food. Or some pizza to spice things up. You know... actual food.
As soon as I left the ruins of my house, I knew my day was going to get ugly.
“Recruit!” Edgar shouted when he saw me step off my porch. “You’re late. I said first light, not ‘half an hour after first light.”
“That’s not really a specific time,” I replied back, trying to shout it at the same volume, wincing. He was loud, and it was early. My efforts flopped, leaving my voice a half-shout and a half-hoarse grunt. “First light leaves it open to interpretation. Besides, I sleep with my blinds closed.”
“The other recruits had no problem following orders. Are you saying those snot-nosed brats are better than you? That seems like a low role on the totem pole to put yourself on. You had better shape up, Dan.” Edgar responded, clearly not amused.
I looked around. There were three other recruits standing behind Edgar. Their uniforms fit, and somehow, they seemed awake and chipper. Like they wanted to be there. To my disappointment, the Groogs were nowhere in sight.
“Where are the Groogs?” I said, gesturing towards the other three. “I thought they’d be joining us, or did they get sent to another group of Crusaders?”
Edgar didn’t respond. I thought about asking Lirai but decided against it. Hopefully, they were just in a different cohort or something. I’ll see them again.
“Alright, recruits!” Edgar barked, sounding more authoritative than I’d expected him to. He made eye contact with all four of them. “It’s time for this morning's physical training. Let’s get started. For a warm-up, we’ve got a two mile run. This is a limited, monster-free area, so we’ll have to use the cul-de-sac. That’ll be sixty-two times around. Get ready! Get set! Go and get those laps started!”
I groaned. My three least favorite words on the planet: morning physical training. I didn't make a habit of running unless it was to save my life. I hadn't trained in years, and I hadn’t even had any coffee yet. A damn shame!
To my
complete and total lack of surprise, the other recruits eagerly set off at a brisk jog. These guys seemed like total nerds, the kind of kids who’d always had their hand in the air in algebra class. I missed the Groogs. At least the three of us had been on the same page.
With a sigh, I set off after them. Two times around the cul-de-sac and I was already breathing hard. My lungs were burning, and the other recruits were two or three full laps ahead of me. Running around in tiny circles like I was, it was torture— worse than being ripped apart over and over again by flesh-eating zombies. At least that had been sort of interesting. It was almost like a surprise guessing game trying to figure out which body part they’d hack off next.
I'm being morbid, but it was better than admitting to myself that I was lazy.
“Stop sandbagging, recruit!” Edgar shouted as I passed him. “Don’t fall behind!”
I grumbled under my breath. Was this the Republic of Dan, or the Empire of Edgar? Considering that I was supposed to be the king of this cul de sac, they weren’t exactly treating me very well. You’d think I’d get a little more deference.
Sixty mind-numbing laps later, I finally staggered to a stop. My chest was heaving, and I felt like I was two seconds away from coughing up blood— and with it, my lungs. My uniform was dark with sweat, and the other recruits looked at me with pity in their eyes. Two of them had been done for half an hour, and the other had finished shortly after.
“Do you think we should get him some water?” the female recruit said. She was small and muscular, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail.
“I’m good,” I gasped.
Edgar had taken a moment to inspect the defenses the other Crusaders were building, so we had a moment. I looked at the other recruits closely.
In addition to the blonde, there was a tall Scandinavian-looking guy with a handlebar mustache and a chubby red-haired nerd with coke-bottle glasses. Even he’d been better at running than me. He took pity on me just like the rest of them. Embarrassing.
“I’m Dan,” I said when I caught my breath, offering a hand to shake in greeting. “Welcome to my domain. I run this town.”
The nerd looked at me blankly, his brow scrunching slightly as he eyed the offered hand. “Sorry,” he said, scratching his chin, “but it doesn’t really seem like it? You know you don't need to try so hard with us, we're all in this together.”
“It's fine, really. These Crusader guys are new,” I said, waving away his concern. “They just moved in. But I’ve been here for days. I’m the one who cleared it out and made it safe. This is my kingdom: Dan’s world.”
The blonde smiled prettily, tilting her head. Even though the small gesture looked harmless, it felt menacing. “Okay... I’m Ashley.”
I felt a chill run down my spine at the name “Ashley”. I still hadn’t recovered from what I’d seen in the Decimation Series.
“Are you, or have you ever been, part of a cult, Ashley?” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Um...? Not that I know of,” she replied, edging away from me, clearly uncomfortable. She crossed her arms and looked away, her cheeks tinged red.
“I’m Bjorn,” the tall guy said. “I was visiting the US from Norway when the apocalypse hit. Now, I’m stuck here. America’s even worse than I imagined, and I thought it was pretty bad to begin with!” Bjorn belted out a hearty guffaw.
No one else laughed.
Damn foreigners.
“Okay, it’s my turn, I guess. Well, there’s not much to say about me. I’m Eric,” the nerd said, pushing his glasses back up onto his face. “My name in the arena was Captain Eric. So if you want to call me that, go ahead!?”
“Can we please just call you Eric?” Ashley asked, grinning.
He looked deflated, rubbing the back of his head. “Sure, that works too...”
“Let me guess,” I said, grinning. “Before all this, you were a software engineer.”
“You betcha!” He nodded excitedly, his glasses nearly falling free of his nose. They barely stopped at the end of his nose where he pushed them back up again. “How could you tell? Can you see my INT stat?”
I gave him a long, hard appraising look. He was heavier than I’d been at the start of this apocalypse, but he didn’t need to know that.
Edgar came back over, looking anxious. When he saw us staring back at him expectantly, his expression changed. Now he looked stern.
“Okay, back at it,” he said, gesturing towards the ground. “First, we’ll start with push-ups then sequence in sit-ups, pull-ups, and last, but not least, v-ups. If it has an ‘up’ in it, you're doing it today. One hundred of each, starting now! To the wind!”
V-ups. My old nemesis. Even when I was in the army, I hated them. Actually, I think the army made me hate them even more than I already did, which was something of an impressive feat.
Some people were born without core strength, just like some people were born to be Super Chads, muscles growing on their muscles’ muscles. I knew which group I probably belonged with, and I wasn’t ashamed to say that I very much knew my people.
The other recruits were already at it, full of piss and vinegar as they started with push-ups.
Bjorn was doing the show-offy obnoxious kind, clapping in between each one. Gungho, challenging, and definitely impossible for me. I hated him instantly.
Ashley was on her knees, doing half push-ups. Her method was fairly simple, and I considered following in her footsteps. However, I doubted Edgar would be very amused by the shamming.
I was pleased to see that Eric was struggling. Two minutes in, and his face was already dripping sweat.
“Get to it, recruit,” Edgar said. “A hundred push-ups, to the WIND. Now! And just so we’re clear, that means 100 in each direction.”
I didn’t like his tough-guy act. He’d been nicer last night. Still, he was my superior, so I did what he said.
Like some dead president once said, I just can’t tell a lie: I was having a miserable time. This was not what I’d expected life in the Crusaders would be like. Now that I think about it, I don’t really know what I expected. I guess I was naïve for thinking things would be different, but I was expecting a little more action and adventure and a lot less exercise. Still, maybe by the end of this, my uniform would fit a little better... if I didn’t rip a seam first. Hopefully they had a washroom or a second uniform...
Edgar paced back and forth while we worked out. He seemed stressed, and I wondered if he could tell how shitty the Crusaders’ defenses were. I’d gotten a good look at them while we were running. At least, a mostly good look, between staring up at the sky wishing for death and staring at the ground while I huffed, out of breath.
They had tried to build a wall around the entire camp, but they’d been limited by the materials available and had done kind of a shitty job. The wall was basically made of cardboard and plywood, held together by duct tape, a few screws, and scavenged furniture from some of the houses nearby.
You’d think that a group dedicated to fighting the apocalypse would have thought to bring their own supplies.
And now, the V-ups were killing me. I could feel my gut pressing against my uniform shirt, and I was surprised I hadn’t popped any buttons or torn an inseam yet.
“Legs up, recruit!” Edgar shouted, doubling up on his very-obviously stressed pacing. He continued to bark, "I need to see some effort!"
I looked over at Bjorn. He was killing it, huffing and puffing like a real athlete, arms and legs in a perfect V. Jerk. I glared at him, hoping he could feel the hatred coming from my eyes, but he ignored me. All it takes is a train and a chance to push, buddy…
Super obviously, or at least I hope it’s obvious, I'm kidding. I would never push somebody off a train or into one in a fit of pettiness...
My limbs were shaking, and sweat was dripping down my neck. I was sure I reeked. Ashley looked over at me and made a face— though, she was having trouble with the V-ups too. I wasn’t the only weakling this time, and it felt good
not to be the only one caught lacking.
“Aughhhhhh!” I screamed as my muscles all failed at once, and the other recruits looked over at me, horrified.
I collapsed on the ground in a puddle of sweat as an alert blared across the subdivision. It sounded like an air-raid siren from an old movie. Saved by the buzzer.
Chapter Three: This, We Will Defend
* * *
"What the…?" Eric muttered, looking panicked. "Just what is that thing?"
I looked over at the wall where his attention was fixated. Something was attacking the wooden planks on the other side. Blows resounded as something impacted it, and the plywood that held it all together started to splinter.
