Sweat poured into my eyes and my clothes clung to me in ways most uncomfortable by the time we reached the Farm to Market road that led back to our village. I was ready to be done with the day. I was ready to race Jayden back to the inn, just to be the first to hit the shower.
“Damn!” Jayden said. “It’s so hot, I’m sweatin’ balls.”
I snickered when Hanna flipped him off, “Says the guy who wanted to be a tank. Soft.”
Wesley stopped on the overpass. I wistfully stared at the closest houses in our neighborhood, which were barely visible. He glanced at each of us and hefted the war hammer in his grip. It had to be heavy after carrying it all day.
With a tired sigh, he said, “We’ve got about four, maybe five hours of light. I know of a family that owns a farm. They’re about an hour away at the speed we’ve been going. I think we’ve got time to visit them, and maybe knock this quest out.”
Hanna pulled her t-shirt away from her stomach and wrung it. A dribble of sweat fell on the asphalt road and I couldn’t pull my eyes away. When she finished, she turned to Wesley. “Friends of yours?”
He offered a smile, “Family from church. A couple of their kids are in the youth group.”
If she hadn’t taken point and if I hadn’t taken the rear, I’m sure I would have stared at Hanna’s ass. I could imagine it swaying back and forth as she led our group along the highway.
I fell into my place at the back of our group as we continued along the highway. As our feet ate away the distance, Sarah, who was next to last in our marching order, fell back until she fell into step beside me. Her eyes flickered to the right. A fence line ran parallel to the highway. It was less than thirty paces from where we walked.
Sarah’s voice was nervous. “Maybe it’s just my imagination, but the trees seem to crowd against the fence. That’s not how I remember it when I last drove this way.”
I followed her eyes and my stomach flipped as I realized the trees were taller than I last recalled them. Thicker, like a dense forest. My voice was dry. “We’re not that far away from where we rescued Wes’s wife and kids from the kobolds. Wouldn’t it be just like the System to supercharge scary forests?”
Sarah’s laugh rang hollow. “Yeah. Just like the System.”
She picked up her pace, returning to her spot. Still, now that she’d said something, I couldn’t get rid of the feeling the woods were growing more ominous and forbidding. I was glad when the woodlands gave way to a plowed field and shortly after that, Wesley pointed toward a farm to market road that ran behind an auto dealership. Worse, there was a cemetery on the other side of the road. The modern cemetery with flat tombstones and plastic flowers only increased the sense of foreboding.
Without realizing it, my feet sped up. You’d think I’d have caught up with Sarah, but she, along with everyone else, must have gotten the heebie-jeebies and picked up their pace until we were well past the dealership and cemetery.
By now, farmland lined both sides of the road. One side was lined with green stalks of corn. On the other side were hay rolls lining the edges of the field. The farmers responsible for the land were good at their jobs.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
Before I could even think, my body reacted. I lay prone in the drainage ditch beside the road, my rifle in my hands.
Wisps of smoke curled into the sky from a building about half a mile in front of us. Wesley pointed toward the smoke. “That’s where Bill Fischer lives. Trouble seems to have found them.”
As we moved forward, Sarah muttered, “Trouble seems to find us an awful lot.”
We passed by a couple of houses that fronted the farm road. They appeared shabby; shutters hung off the sides of windows. The effects of the System decay were noticeable, even after only five days. By the time we reached the side-street with the smoke rising into the sky, the home it came from was a raging inferno.
Down this side road were a couple of dozen homes. They were mostly new, with brick facades and composite roofs. The cars in the driveways were a mixture of practical and upscale. To my right, a green street-sign hung drunkenly from a narrow pole where the street intersected the farm to market road. Although scorched, the words “Meadowlark Drive” remained visible. Familiar screams competed for our attention with guttural war-cries.
Wesley waved to Jayden, “Let’s get moving.”
Hanna fell into step behind them, her plus-one daggers in her hands. Sarah went next, flecks of flames sizzling from her fingers as she spent mana prepping a fireball. I took my rifle to the neighborhood entrance and leaned it on the brick wall with “Meadowlark” carved into the concrete.
More than a hundred paces away, a family of four ran across the street and following on their heels was a creature that looked similar to the goblins we’d seen. It was taller than a goblin. Almost as tall as me. It wore tattered armor and carried an enormous sword. Its strides were easily as big as mine and he caught up to a woman who had fallen behind the others, racing to escape the monster.
The sword rose and fell. A piercing scream erupted as the woman fell under the monster’s weapon. Jayden, who had broken into a sprint, was only halfway toward her. I raised the rifle to my shoulder, and let the wall’s brickwork do the heavy work of stabilizing the barrel as I sighted along its length. Thirty points of previously infused mana powered the round as I squeezed the trigger.
The two-hundred-thirty grain bullet flew downrange at twelve-hundred feet per second. Within less than a heartbeat, the round tore through the monster’s flimsy leather jerkin, shredding his insides before it blasted a hole through its back. My dad’s advice echoed in my mind: don’t get fancy. It’s easier to hit center-mass than trying for a head-shot.
The system rewarding a shot to the heart with critical damage of ten times the normal damage wasn’t lost on me, either.
The monster jerked away at the impact and then collapsed onto the street. Before I could celebrate the rest of the family’s escape, several more monsters charged across the road, intent on finishing the first one’s job.
I fished another mana-infused cartridge from my pocket and fed it into the rifle. By the time I aimed, one had caught up with a man who turned and raised a pistol. The gun malfunctioned, and the monster killed him, splattering the others with blood as they screamed in fear.
They were just kids, younger than me. I lined up my sights on the monster and pulled the trigger. Before he could take another step, the round tore through his leather armor and he fell at the feet of one of the kids.
As I snatched another cartridge from my pocket, the other two monsters descended on the kids, swords swinging.
Bile filled my mouth, and I turned away, even as my fingers worked to reload the rifle. When I turned back, Jayden had slammed into them, swinging his sword with everything he had. The body of one monster went one way while its head sailed through the air. Wesley struck the other several solid hits with his war hammer, ending the immediate fight.
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Further down the road, more of the monsters streamed from a house where smoke billowed from broken windows. A fireball splattered against one of the monster’s armor. Sarah was about halfway between me and the monsters. Already, another fireball rested in her hand as she readied it.
The monster whose leather jerkin now smoldered pointed toward her and several of them loped toward her as their war cries filled the air. I spit the bile from my mouth and shuddered. I had to push the images of the monsters killing those kids from my mind. I couldn’t afford to miss.
I hit a monster just to the left of the one Sarah had it. Right after that, another fireball struck the beast in the face. It dropped its sword and clawed at the flames. More of the monsters continued toward her.
One challenge the System has put on magic users is a small mana pool. Sarah had two levels as a mage, or one-hundred-twenty mana points. Each of her fireballs cost her at least ten mana. Maybe more if she’s figured out how to enhance a fireball—assuming it works anything like when I infuse mana into my ammo. She didn’t stop even as the monsters raced toward her.
Whoosh! Whoosh! More fireballs found their targets.
BLAM! I knocked another monster from his feet, tearing a hole in his chest.
A monster covered in fur, carrying a spiked club, stopped when he realized he alone remained. He glanced behind him. Several bodies smoldered from where Sarah’s fireballs had done them in. Others were surrounded by pooling blood, leaking from wounds caused by my own supporting fire.
The monster’s roar held a note of helplessness and frustration. He took another step toward Sarah, and she flicked a fireball at him. Sarah flicked a fireball at the monster, causing his fur to combust and leading him to flee, smoke following him.
I hurried around the wall and ran over to Sarah as she gingerly stepped around the dead monsters. More cries from up the street confirmed the battle was far from over. When I reached her, I asked, “How’s your mana pool?”
The flame in her hand winked out. “I can cast a few more of these. Then I’m out.”
My pockets still bulged with ammo. I had started the day with two dozen mana infused rounds for the rifle and still had most of them.
I took the lead and headed toward the screams. “We need a building for our alchemist. Some potions would be handy about now.”
She smirked, “Maybe that’s the next class I should take.”
Further up the street, we found Jayden, Hanna, and Wesley routing a small band of the oversized goblins. Several bodies rested at their feet. The dead were a mix of monsters and people. When Wesley saw us, he said, “You guys okay? Need heals?”
Sarah shook her head, “We’re fine. Let’s get moving. The sooner we route these goblins or whatever, the sooner done.”
“I can’t argue with that,” Wesley said as he pointed down the street. “There’s a house toward the end of the street. It looks like most of the survivors are holed up there.”
A flight of arrows cut over the tall, wooden backyard fence. They fell among several monsters who tried to advance on the fence. Jayden gave an approving nod. “They’ve still got some fight in ‘em.”
Without another word, he surged toward them. His sword, stained red with blood and gore, led the way. Hanna shook her head, as though trying to decide if this was the right course of action. It must have been. She set off after her brother.
I kneeled in the street, the broken asphalt ground against my knee. A quick study and I found my next target. The monsters who tried to force their way toward the fence where the survivors made their stand were my target.
BLAM! BLAM!
And then Jayden was on them, swinging his sword with both hands. Hanna danced through the mess of monsters, her knives jabbing at exposed skin. Wesley bashed into them, using his shield to bash one to the ground, where he fell on it with his war hammer. The weapon rose and fell until the monster moved no more.
Several men and women swarmed from the house, which held the survivors. They carried an assortment of weapons; swords and knives that looked to have been collected from the monsters, bows and crossbows. The man at the front of the survivors carried a rifle. The man at the front of the survivors grasped the rifle by the barrel and swung it at the nearest monster, knocking it to the ground, where it was swarmed over.
The half-dozen monsters still on their feet didn’t care for our flanking move, especially now the survivors had sallied. Furry monsters loped away, scattering as they fled across a plowed field behind the house holding the survivors. A smattering of tall, armored goblin-kin joined them, skedaddling away.
As our System generated foes fled into the distance, one defender wandered through the bodies. As he reached us, he lowered a crossbow. “Name’s Matt Miller. Gotta say, not sure we’d have made it without your timely arrival.”
Wesley, who stood closest to him, scanned the lone neighborhood. Bodies, both human and monster, were strewn across yards and street. Almost absentmindedly, he hung his war hammer on his belt. “Wesley Parsons. This is–” words failed him.
The uncomfortable silence was broken when a man who was shorter than me, wearing overalls and carrying a rusty sword at his waist, ran over to Wesley. “Pastor Wes! Thank God you got here when you did!”
Several kids followed him. One of them I recognized from school. Billy Fischer was in the same grade as me. Aside from knowing his name, I didn’t know much about him, other than he often wore his FFA jacket when the weather became the least bit cool. Billy wore more than a passing resemblance to the man and the other kids.
Wesley scanned the faces behind Mr. Fischer. “Where’s Melinda, Bill?”
Mr. Fischer swore and dipped his head at the dead monsters. “They hit us about an hour ago. Hard. Several families back toward the main road didn’t know what hit them. Those monsters tore through them like lightning, killing everyone they came across. Someone let loose a few shots from a gun and that’s what let the rest of us know we were in trouble.”
Tears streaked his face. “Ever since the System came, everyone in the neighborhood agreed the Miller’s place would be our rally point. We came over as fast as we could, but those monsters were on us before we made it.” He choked up, biting back a sob. “Melinda didn’t make it.”
While Wesley talked with Mr. Fischer and Mr. Miller, the rest of us turned to the bodies. I examined the nearest furry monster.
Dead level [2] bugbear.
That explained the fur. The goblin-kin monsters were hobgoblins. All the monsters were level one and two. But to a bunch of people who didn’t know enough about the system to build a fort, they were more than enough.
Even though looting the monsters was the right thing to do, it left the carnage along the front lawns and the street even harder to stomach. When we looted them, the monsters we attacked faded away, leaving behind a scene of carnage with dozens of dead people. The hobgoblins had cut and hacked at the people. The bugbears had been worse, tearing people’s limbs from their bodies, and in one particularly gruesome case, leaving a half-eaten corpse behind.
After the monsters had disappeared, the rest of the party returned to Wesley. He leaned against a minivan in front of the Miller’s house. His voice was strained, “Why don’t you have walls? There were plenty of people here for a village.”
Mr. Fischer said, “We accepted the quest. Founded a village. But the houses we have are better than anything the System made available. Plus, we have running water and some houses, those with solar panels, still had electricity.”
Wesley glanced toward the body of one of the neighbors. “Most of you would have survived with walls, Matt. Now what? How many are left?”
Mr. Miller grimaced at the dead bodies. “Too damned few.”
The frustration was clearly etched on Wesley’s face as he turned to Mr. Fischer. “We came over here looking for you, Bill. Our village needs a farmer.”
Mr. Fischer hooked his thumb under the overall’s strap that went over his shoulder, “Is it safe?” He worked to hold his anguish in check. “My kids are all I have left. I can’t afford to go from the frying pan to the fire.”
Wesley pointed toward me, Jayden, and Holly. “Safe is relative, Bill. Still, we’ve driven the monsters off whenever they’ve attacked. We’re figuring out the System. Plus, we’re about half-way toward having our village completely walled. But we need farmers. System food is expensive.”
Mr. Miller cut in, “System food?”
Wesley’s eyes bugged at that. “You said you founded a village. Didn’t you see the options for the System store?”
Mr. Miller shrugged, “Yeah. We never had the resources to build it, though. It didn’t like our wood; said it wasn’t incorporated, whatever that meant.”
The entire party stood there, stunned at the admission. It surprised me they’d lasted this long. Wesley groaned, “You fool. Everything you needed to have a chance was available if you’d just used System to build a village from the available tools. You’d have had excess incorporated resources.”
Mr. Fischer put an arm on Wesley’s arm. “None of us figured it out, Pastor. As God is my witness, I wish we had. Maybe my wife would still be alive.” He cast his arm wide. “Maybe a lot more of us would have survived. But that don’t do damn-all now. If you really need a farmer, I’m willing to go. I can’t afford a next time.”
It took the rest of the evening to collect the dead and bury them. By the time we tossed the last bit of dirt on the common grave, night had settled in. And in the distance, the monsters howled.
Updating party statistics
9 Level [2] hobgoblins killed
6 Level [1] bugbears killed
195 party experience points.
Your portion of damage—33% adjusted for level [4].
You are awarded with 40 experience points.
Your team looted [22] silver coins. Your portion is [4] silver and [40] copper.
Your team looted [9] hobgoblin swords and [6] spiked clubs.