by Tao Wong
In the end, I decide to let him come for two reasons. Firstly, Sam’s got the willingness to fight—something that, even if one has the Skills, can be lacking—and secondly, it’s his life. I’m not here to dictate what he does.
“Fine,” I answer and watch Sam relax slightly.
He slides into his truck a moment later, with Ingrid taking rearguard on her bike. Mikito and I lead the way over the bridge that straddles the town. South, down to Prince George, it is. Hopefully our reception there is a lot less chilly.
It’s eight hundred kilometers on the highway to Prince George. Even with the destruction caused by the change and the lack of maintenance, the highways are still the fastest way to travel. No one from Fort Nelson has successfully made contact with those down south though, since the 97 swings close to the Northern Rocky Mountains Provincial Park. The damn System seems to consider every provincial park and place of beauty the perfect place to put a high Level zone. At the closest point to the provincial park, the highway sits at nearly Level 50. Definitely too high for the people in Fort Nelson, and even a threat for us if we were moving alone.
That’s why, by general consensus, we’re taking things slow and sending the puppies ahead to herd some monsters for Sam to play with. I’ve even kindly let him ride Sabre so that he doesn’t have to struggle in and out of the truck while killing them. For all the consideration we’ve given him, you’d think he’d be more grateful.
“Help me!” Sam shouts as he lies on the ground, holding the mutated bear off his face through sheer desperation.
“Oh, come on, it’s only a Level 15,” I call back.
“Two nights of cooking says he’s going to get below 50%,” Ingrid offers.
“Bah! Three nights and 30% of his health,” Ali counters.
“You guys are insane!” Sam screams. He finally levers a hand free, pushing the beam pistol against the bear’s side, and opens fire.
The bear takes the shots, chomping down hard on Sam’s shoulder and making his hand spasm open.
“Hey! Stop that,” I say as I glare at Ali. “No betting on my behalf. It’s not as if you’re doing the cooking if you lose. But we’ll take that bet.”
“John…” Lana says, looking at Ingrid and me. “I don’t think she’s been a good influence on you.”
“You wanted me to lighten up…”
“Exactly. Lighten. Not indulge in dark humor,” Lana says, shaking her head.
“I note you aren’t doing anything to help either,” I say.
Sam screams and I glance at his health, doing some quick math. He can take one more hit before I have to heal him. Of course, if I do, his experience gains drop, since the System will count it as help, which kind of defeats the purpose of all this. As it stands, he’s getting reduced experience as it is. Still, I don’t want him to die either. I pay a little more attention, pre-casting a portion of the Healing spell and holding it in abeyance.
Mikito is dancing with another bear to the side, using her fists rather than her polearm to strike the monster. She’s even got a few light cuts across her face, courtesy of her practicing dodging by the millimeter. We pulled the pair to us a short while ago and Sam learned a major lesson about being a support fighter—don’t let the monsters get close.
Sam jerks his head aside enough to dodge the next bite and pulls the trigger of his recovered pistol a few more times. Flesh sizzles and the bear finally has enough, falling and flattening the poor Technomancer. Before we can help, Howard has pulled the body off Sam and settled down to snack. I release my spell the moment I can actually see Sam, watching as he heals all the damage in seconds.
“I didn’t say this wasn’t necessary,” Lana says, rubbing the back of her neck. “Just, you know, a bit rude.”
“A lot rude!” Sam snaps, kicking the bear corpse after he loots it.
Howard growls at Sam before returning to eating the bear, and Roland joins him after a second. Surprisingly, Howard doesn’t object. Now that Sam’s done, Mikito put down her bear too and lets Shadow and Anna take their turn.
“You complain, but you’re getting better,” I say, looking the man over. “Though seriously, you couldn’t have bought an armored suit or something?”
“I didn’t expect to be fighting!” Sam snaps, checking the charge on his pistol and swapping out the Mana battery. “I fix cars and weapons!”
“And you’re wandering around the wilderness. At least buy yourself some decent offensive Spells, will you? Perhaps a few to restrict movement. It’ll keep you alive longer,” I recommend.
Sam growls at me again, stomping back to Sabre and the beam rifle that was discarded during the fight.
Incidents like that pretty much make up the next few weeks. Of course, once the zone levels started creeping up too high, we stopped playing around. Well, until we hit the Level 50 zone, then we hunkered down and did some real grinding.
I ended up lending Sam Sabre in her transformed form during that period, and I had to admit, I was a bit jealous. With his abilities, Sam could use it just as well as I could with my Skills and Neural Link, interfacing directly with the controls to play ranged damage dealer. He even managed to eke out a higher efficiency rate on the Mana engine and linked his beam rifle directly with the PAV so that he could keep shooting without switching Mana batteries.
We spent over a day and a half just off the highway in the Level 50 zone, drawing monsters to us and killing them. Once we finally ran out of space for storing the loot and Sam Leveled up to 32, we called it a day and got moving.
Our high spirits got shut down fast once we hit the next village. Stuck so close to a high Level zone with no Shop and the nearest settlement too far to walk to, there were no survivors. Nor were there any in the next village. Or the next.
For all the joking and ribbing, this was the reality of our existence—less than ten percent of humanity had survived the transition. Entire communities had been wiped out. Among the survivors, a significant number of the young and elderly were slain. This new world has no space for the weak. Perhaps it might have been different if we had transitioned to a normal System world, but as a Dungeon World, we never had a chance.
We don’t stop or search the settlements. There’s no need. Not with Ali around. And so we drive past empty homes and abandoned vehicles, leaving the past to the past until we reach Fort St. John, a tiny town nearly the same size as Whitehorse. It has no Shop, too small to be considered worth setting up the teleportation link that anchors a Shop to our world. Yet for all their disadvantages, there are survivors. We find a way.
“Ahoy there!” I call.
“Ahoy? Seriously? We going with landlubbers next?” Ali teases, floating beside me as we stare at the fortified apartment complex.
“Perhaps we should have someone less intimidating talk to them?” Sam says.
“You mean Lana.”
“I mean Lana.”
I sigh, noting that there’s still no movement from the apartment complex. If it wasn’t for the barred doors and windows and the dots on the minimap, I’d have thought they were all gone. Thankfully, they haven’t tried to shoot me yet, unlike some others.
“You’re up, Lana,” I say, finally conceding.
The redhead laughs, giving my hand a quick squeeze as she saunters up the driveway. A high Charisma, breathtaking beauty, and actual social skills have to count for something. I hope.
“We don’t mean you any harm. We’re here to offer aid!” Lana calls and waits.
“Can I go in and drag them out yet?” Ingrid’s voice crackles over the radio.
To make us look less threatening, we left her and Mikito with the pets, out of sight around the corner of the block. Roland might be a cuddly and foolish kitty to us, but I’m sure that’s not what most people see.
“No,” Sam snaps.
There’re only a dozen survivors, so I’m sure Ingrid could do it easily enough, but then what? We’re trying to get their cooperation, not turn them into slaves.
&nbs
p; “How are you going to help us?” a voice finally calls. It’s young and aggressive, challenging Lana and our stated good intentions. I can sympathize.
“Depends on what you need. We’ve got some weapons, food, and water we can give you if that’s all you’ll accept. But we’d rather help you get somewhere safer,” Lana calls back. We’ve done this conversation a few times before, and nearly always, there’s that caution.
“Safe?” There’s a bitter laugh at that.
Another voice pipes up, this one older. “What do you mean safer?”
“There are safe zones, places where monsters don’t spawn randomly,” Lana states. “If you get to a Shop, you can buy a residence and it blocks spawning inside that house. Whole cities can become a safe zone if enough property is bought. There’s a document, a guide we can share with you.”
There’s silence at her last words, but I can see the dots converging on my minimap.
A couple of minutes later, the older man calls, “Leave the guide and the supplies on the doorstep and then back off. We’ll consider your offer.”
Lana sighs and waves me forward. A few seconds later, the printed-out copy of Smasher’s Guide and a bunch of supplies is on their doorstep. Increased Perception means that I can hear their gasps as I make the paper and boxes of food appear.
After letting them know where we’ll be, we meet up with the rest of the crew and repeat the process at another boarded-up building. We do that for the rest of the day, playing diplomat and good guy. Surprisingly—or not, considering how thin everyone in the group is—one of the groups joins us immediately. All the others are way too wary and paranoid, which seems a little strange. Not that we’re expecting everyone to join us, but the ratio is wrong.
Dinner is held in the middle of the highway, the young man and the quartet of teenagers devouring the food we provide and only flinching slightly when the puppies or Roland move near them. Anna, the lazy fox that she is, is curled up and getting strokes from Ingrid while Sam pokes and prods at the force shields we’ve set up around the impromptu camp. We could have taken a house, but considering that monsters can barge through the walls at any time, this is actually safer. That, and we want to let the human scouts have a clear view of what we are and aren’t doing.
Once dinner is done, I drag a truck back at Sam’s request and we spend the next few hours fixing it up together. I say we, but I was a website hack, so it’s mostly Sam who does the work while I hand him tools and play impromptu jack. I do learn a few things, since Sam is one of those guys who likes to talk while working. Of course, I’m not entirely sure what the point is, since gas-guzzling engines are archaic technology these days.
“Right. Let’s try it,” Sam says after an hour, scooting out from under the vehicle before I lower it.
We pop the hood and he places his hand on the engine, channeling his Skill.
All Tech I See (III)
This Skill allows the Technomancer an intuitive understanding and connection with technology, allowing him to use the technology at will. This Skill also has the ability to attempt to override security features in the affected technology.
Level I effects: +15% bonus to connections with technology, +10% efficiency and productivity (where appropriate)
Level II effects: this Skill will temporarily designate non-System technology as System-enabled with the appropriate bonuses.
Level III effects: Technomancer may designate 3 pieces of technology to be used remotely.
Mana Cost: 20 Mana per minute for active use. Passive use (Level II and III effects) 200 Mana per activation. Duration of 3 hours per activation
I shake my head, staring at the details of Sam’s Class Skill. It’s one hell of a Skill—even better than the Neural Link Skill I purchased—and I’m slightly surprised he’s so willing to share the details. Ever since Sam managed to allocate his third Skill point a few days ago, he’s been able to designate a couple of additional vehicles for use. Unlike a Mechanic’s rebuilding of the vehicle, this is a lot less permanent but a lot faster.
“Sounds good,” I say, listening to the engine. We’ve mostly just swapped out a bunch of starters, pulled a bunch of clogged lines, and made sure the actual gasoline engine works. After that, Sam used some of his other Skills to fix the electronic chips needed to run the truck. It wouldn’t actually work without his Skill, though a real Mechanic with the right tools could probably get it fixed up much easier now. “Next?”
Sam nods, and I walk toward the camp exit, glancing at Mikito as she joins me.
“Something up?” I ask her.
“No. Just too cramped to practice inside,” Mikito says, and I nod in understanding.
“You okay with all this?” I wave my hands around, indicating both the survivors we’re grabbing as well as the destruction.
“Yes,” Mikito answers then pauses, looking at me. “Are you?”
“It’s what we do, isn’t it?” I say. It’s not really something I’ve thought about—just one of those things we can do to help. I mean, why not? It barely takes any real effort, and even if it did, we’re saving lives. How exactly is that a bad thing?
“You seem less angry,” Mikito says.
I blink, considering her words. I prod at my emotions, noting the churning sea of anger that still resides in the pit of my stomach. But it’s more peaceful? Calmer? No typhoon winds, no tsunamis…
“Maybe?” I say hesitatingly. “I’m still angry at times, but it just is, you know? We’re not fighting for our lives as much anymore. And even if things are bad, it’s mostly done and over with. At least, I hope so. How are you doing?”
It’s not an idle question. Mikito has lost more than most. Her husband, dead. Her family, not only separated by a sea but most likely dead too. For a time, I know she wanted to die, but now…
“I exist,” Mikito answers me, offering me a tight smile. “It hurts at times. When I remember. But we do good, and when it is time, perhaps I will meet him again.”
I don’t really know what to say to that, so I offer her a smile and nod. Mikito breaks off soon afterward, walking toward the park we noticed before. I admit, I watch her leave, uncertain exactly what to feel about the conversation we just had. In the end, I push it aside to focus on the work ahead of me.
Late at night, I lie in bed, absently stroking the hair of the sleeping redhead beside me. Lana murmurs softly, nuzzling into my chest before falling back asleep, while I stare at the screen in front of me. Page 273 from A Mathematical Review of Classes, System Skills, and the System. Riveting reading. Really. But I’ve got things to do and people to see.
I quietly extract myself from the tent and make my way to the fire, glancing at the young man seated by it with a makeshift spear on his lap. Young, probably in his early twenties, with that wariness that almost all survivors have. He looks up, his hand clenching slightly on the spear shaft while meeting my eyes with his thousand-yard stare.
“You’re up late,” I say and take a seat next to him.
“So are you,” he replies.
I smile slightly, staring at the kid and wondering when I started calling people half a decade younger than me kids. “Perk of a high Constitution. I don’t really need to sleep much.” Or at all, if I want to push it. But experimentation has shown that the human brain really does like having a bit of downtime.
“You’re strong too,” the kid says, glancing toward the vans and trucks I dragged over. We’d briefly considered a bus but figured a single point of failure was a bad idea.
“Thanks. You’re not bad yourself,” I say, and he twitches, eyes narrowing. “There’s no way you’d survive this long if you didn’t have some decent Levels and strength scores.”
Of course, I don’t tell him that I can see his Status bar above his head too.
Kyle Leeburn (Karateka Level 28)
HP: 340/340
MP: 180/180
Conditions: Exhausted (-10 to all Stats and Regeneration Rates)
“Not good enough,”
the kid says, and I clearly hear the regret and self-recrimination.
I glance back at the tent that we designated for him and his friends—all those who are left. He catches me looking and nods slightly. I’m not even sure what the nod means, but I don’t push it.
“Did you read the guide?” I ask to break the silence.
“Yes. Not much new there,” Kyle says. “I do want to know what you intend to do with us.”
“Exactly what we promised. Bring you guys to a safe zone, preferably a city with a Shop. That way you can sell some of your loot and get sorted,” I say. “No ulterior motives.”
“Not as if I can do anything about it if you did, is there?” Kyle says bitterly.
“No, not really,” I agree bluntly.
Kyle looks at me, his eyes shining. “If you lay a hand on them, I’ll kill you. I don’t care how, I will kill you. All of you.”
“Oh god…” Ali says, floating down from where he’s been watching all this. “There’s two of you!”
“Funny,” I tell Ali before looking at the kid and giving him a nod in acknowledgement. “Now, go to sleep.”
“I—”
“You said it yourself. There’s nothing you can do if I want you dead. And anyway, if I had bad intentions, I’d want to get all of you survivors together. Right now, you’d be more useful as bait than anything else.”
I see Kyle twitch at that, but he finally stands and goes into the tent. I can hear him breathing loudly and irregularly, forcing himself to stay awake just in case I decide to attack, but at least I have some peace and quiet. Sort of.
“You’ve got a pretty devious mind there, boy-o,” Ali says, floating cross-legged in front of me.
“Hmmm…?”
“The entire using the kids as bait bit. Cold.”
“Never said I wasn’t,” I say, smiling grimly.
