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Ch 7: Fighting Survivors

Beaumont TX, about 2 months post-apoc.

Anat and I teach the others how to do their own initiation rituals and soon the dim light and dusty structures of the back warehouses are the scene of a series of efforts to push beyond the traditional limits of humanity. In particular, watching the pitch-black shades of the other members of our group appear from thin air to fight them is spooky. We all feel instinctively that it would be wrong to interfere. Most of them fight their shades bare-handed. Ellie feels more confident with a staff instead of her fists, but puts on a helmet as well as knee and elbow pads to mitigate the risk of injury. Only Johnson has real problems, but we all shout encouragement which seems to help him a lot. I think next time we'll all be more actively supporting each other as we push through the ritual. I guess everything humans do, we do better if we help each other. It's how we evolved and took over the Earth. We were never the strongest or the fastest, we didn't have the sharpest claws, strongest jaws, or thickest hides. But we are smart and took care of each other.

"I expect that we've all discovered an archetype that describes us, though if I and Jayse are typical, it may take time to find words to express it," Anat says. The others begin sharing theirs as they figure them out.

"Warrior!" Roberts and Johnson say almost simultaneously, then give each other high fives while laughing.

"Rogue," says Cas, smiling.

"Healer, I know you are all shocked," says Ellie.

Stefan is quiet, thinking.

"This seems strange to say," he says. "But the archetype I feel is Gunslinger."

"But…"

"I know, I know. Guns don't work. But maybe we just haven't figured out how to make them work yet."

"Maybe you just need to love your guns more than I do," Johnson says. "I mean, my pistol was a necessary tool for my job, but…"

"Yeah, we've seen your collection," says Roberts laughing.

"You're just jealous. Anyway, I'll have to do some experimentation."

The next morning, I awake to the unmistakable sound of gunfire. I find Stefan practicing with a .38 revolver. He pops out the cylinder, picks up a bullet, then holds it in his hand while staring at it intently for a few seconds. After that he slides the bullet into the cylinder, pushes it back into place and fires.

"A .38?" I ask.

"Practice," he says quietly, staring intently at the next bullet. "Earlier they just popped out. I'm getting better." A few seconds later another shot rings out.

"I should probably rest. That much concentration is giving me a headache."

"Did you have the same issue with the crossbow?"

"No, but it's more physical. Charging a bullet with qi is just so… abstract. I can't make it work if I can't see and hold the bullet. Yet. I think I'll be able to make it work using a revolver the normal way, but that's trickier. Maybe someday I'll be able to use my uzis or AK, but at this point that seems nearly impossible."

"Good to have a goal though."

"Right. Hey, do you want that old machete from when we hunted the boar?"

"I don't need it. Just seemed a waste to leave it."

"Awesome. What does this bad boy make you think of?"

He pulls out a long-barreled rifle with a polymer stock having an A-frame butt that is just a hollow right-triangle of sturdy plastic with a padded cap to rest against the shooter's shoulder. A moment later, I realize that it's a shotgun, rather than a rifle. Strangely enough, there's no magazine tube.

"Single shot?" I ask.

"Exactly," he replies. "It's pretty light for the caliber, plenty of length to mount a bayonet, and the A-frame stock means I can grip it all of the way at the back for as much reach as possible."

"I see what you mean. You'll be using the machete as a bayonet?"

"I just need some sturdy pipe clamps and bolt them to the rivet-holes in the tang."

"I guess that would work. Do the larger shells need more qi to charge them?"

"Probably. I'll need to practice."

There's a lot that we need to practice. While the most noticeable change in our abilities now that we've initiated as real cultivators is our new class archetypes, we all have developed some additional talents as well. I find it increasingly difficult to access the orderly energies of the heavens, but instead find myself channeling more and more fiery chaos from the Earth's core. I sense that this is a form of supernatural Rage. When I take a heavy blow in training, I feel a burst of chaos well up from the core like a magmatic mantle plume charging me with fury. It makes training difficult though, because it is so chaotic. Maintaining the boundary between practicing my technique and going overboard isn't easy. And while it is powerful, it reminds me too much of my old man's abusive fury. Advantageously, it seems that chaos causes a degree of confusion to those I hit, especially when my own rage is running high.

Rogers and Johnson seem to have developed abilities that emphasize gaining an advantage by fighting together. They reinforce a shield wall even more strongly if they are both in it, and the angle between their shields doesn't weaken the line. Also, they are able to reinforce the qi of each other's blows the way Stefan and Cas found their arrows to work.

Cas is able to become extremely hard to spot when he stops moving, and difficult to hit when he's trying to avoid fighting. It's also quite difficult to block his blows, as they seem to blur when he throws them.

Anat's ability to push out flames through her blades is getting very impressive. She's also starting to use simple but extremely effective telekinetic attacks. Mostly she uses pushes and pulls in different directions. She's getting especially adept at telekinetic tripping during fights. I'm increasingly convinced that I wouldn't survive if I had to fight her. Additionally, any kind of attack she throws with the intent to hurt carries an ability she calls Degradation that makes one feel mentally weak and increasingly helpless as she lands more and more blows, even bare-handed. She says its main power is to reduce the ability of a target to resist other spells, but that she hasn't learned enough about spellcraft to realy take advantage of that.

Ellie says she's gained a greater ability to manipulate the tissues she's healing, to reduce scarring. Kind of the way she used a sort of telekinesis to pull the sides of the gash in my cheek together when she healed me during the fight with the spider mobs. She also says she'll be able to reduce the power of supernatural poisons and diseases, and to reduce the duration of harmful hexes and curses.

As we train together, we feel increasingly confident in our abilities. But still not confident enough to take on the Spider Boss. We decide to continue clearing the Beaumont area, and move south to Port Arthur on the coast and see how we feel after that.

The night before we leave, Stefan shows us a new kind of armor he's made for himself. The metalworking supply store has an array of fasteners in bulk boxes. Among these are an assortment of washers in mild steel, several grades of stainless steel including 304 and 455, commercially pure titanium and Ti-6V-4Al alloy, and the even stronger Ti-10V-2Fe-3Al alloy. He's used fender washers in the latter grade as scales, sewing them inside his trench coat to make a kind of brigandine that he wears over his military body armor.

He's replaced his helmet with a flat-topped gambler-style cowboy hat with a wide flat brim. He's layered 2mm thick strips of titanium under the crown of the hat which he's bent to fit its shape. The Strips lend some strength to the brim, but as they stretch out in all directions, gaps are left between. So he's added a layer of titanium sheet thin enough to cut with metal snips over the ends of the strips to reinforce the brim. The sheet extends an inch beyond the ends of the strips, and he's cut short V-shaped gaps in the sheet that line up with the end of each strip, then he's bent the sheet over to reinforce the edge of the brim. Finally, he's riveted all the metal parts together and fitted them under the hat. A layer of garment leather has been glued over the metal to give the appearance of an ordinary hat.

He seems to be taking the gunslinger archetype rather literally. But in a world where there are surely few others able to use guns, I guess I can't blame him for enjoying it. And it always was rare to see him not wearing the hat and jacket before. I and the others have all tried our hand at charging bullets. Of all of us, only Anat has had some success, producing a small pop that at least gets the bullet out of the barrel, though we could see it bounce across the floor at a velocity that would be shameful for a BB-gun.

There isn't much to tell about clearing Beaumont. We meet three bands of survivors. One was instantly hostile but don't pursue when we retreat. The other two were willing to trade so we also tell them about how we are cultivating so we can increase our ability to fight the monsters. One of the bands is interested but skeptical. The folks in the other band scream that we are satan worshippers and are going to hell. I guess technically they aren't wrong in a way. Something like a hell lies ahead of us. But we're planning to go to hell to fight the demons. None of us feel like that distinction is likely to impress them though.

Skirting the territory of the other groups, we still manage to clear enough zomborgs to make significant if more incremental growth compared to

The southern suburbs and commercial districts of Beaumont blend seamlessly with Port Arthur's northern neighborhoods. The zomborgs seem more and more organized as time goes on, and we are now fighting swarms of the poor bastards. They look increasingly emaciated though, and seem to be starving. Some of them show strange sores and oozing lesions though, while others have bony growths and spiny hair. Aside from the emaciation, the physical changes are new, seemingly related to the creatures' location rather than how long it has been since the apocalypse.

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"Something is very wrong here." Ellie says softly.

"Yeah," Anat agrees. Mana is twisted here. Almost… toxic."

"What would make mana toxic?" Rodgers asks.

"I've seen some areas around factories, but it was localized. And there weren't enough zomborgs to see the difference there."

"Or maybe it just hadn't had long enough to work on them," Rogers says.

"Could be."

"I think they have an aura," says Johnson.

"Yeah, like the things from the rift, but nowhere near as strong," says Cas.

"I don't actually feel any effect from the aura, just an awareness that it is there," Stefan chimes in. "You think it is because we're stronger than them?"

"Seems likely to me. We'll know more when we face those things from the rift again after initiating a few times," Anat says.

Stefan's shotgun has been quite effectively taking down the first zomborg from each group we encounter, and usually knocking down another one or two in each fight if the packs are on the larger side. They seem to get larger week by week. After we close with the zomborgs, the bayonet is shorter and clumsier than our spears, but not remotely useless, even if he can't get enough distance to go back to shooting. When we find gun stores, we raid them for bullets. We all carry extra 12-gauge shells for him. He collects quite a bit of .357 magnum and every bit of 460 S&W magnum he can find, saying when he gets better and needs something more powerful that he'll be upgrading to those calibers.

"Look at this one!" Stefan says as we finish off the last of a pack of zomborgs, motioning us all to gather around. "Don't look now," he whispers "but we are being followed. At least 3, in mismatched hunting camo and police armor. All have spears. They seem pretty coordinated."

"Fuck," says Anat.

"Indeed."

"We should ambush them," says Rodgers.

"Or we could try to talk to them," says Ellie.

"Maybe in a good defensive position."

"I have slugs for the shotgun, so I can offer cover at a decent range." Stefan has added a short scope to the shotgun as well.

"Maybe find someplace where I can yell to them with a white flag, while everyone else takes supporting positions nearby in case they aren't friendly."

"That seems reasonable. Sneaking around following us is suspicious, but we are heavily armed and more armored than they are. In their position, we'd probably suspect they might not have good intentions," says Anat.

"That's reasonable. I wouldn't want to volunteer to be bait, or volunteer someone else. But if you're willing…" Stefan shrugs.

We find a hotel with a roofed-over entrance for loading and unloading. Between the structure itself and a couple of stalled cars parked in it, there's pretty good cover. Ellie disappears inside while everyone else finds defensive positions in the lobby and foyer. Ellie returns with a white pillowcase and I drape it over the butt of my short-spear to make a flag of truce. Then Ellie returns to the lobby while I wave the flag and call out to the survivors who are following us.

"Hey, you out there! We're not looking for a fight. Let's talk."

The reply is a simple molotov cocktail tied to a length of rope so it can be swung like a sling. It crashes into one of the cars setting it on fire.

"Retreat. Back to plan A!" yells Stefan.

"Roger" I answer. Ambush it is.

We find an alley crowded with dumpsters and abandoned cars, with fire escapes on both sides. We all find hiding places with Cas and Stefan up the fire escapes to provide overwatching fire, and the rest of us hidden in the rubbish. We wait but there's no sign of pursuers.

We sneak away as darkness falls, finding a grocery store. There'll be no party tonight. Everyone is tense. We share our collected essence first thing, gambling that if we were followed, they won't attack until later. But we still stay as alert as we can while mixing and distributing our essence.

"We all need binoculars," says Stefan. "I should have thought of that sooner."

"You think they watched with binoculars? Saw us setting up the ambush and hung back?" asks Cas.

"Good chance," says Rodgers.

"Yeah, I didn't see anyone following, but I feel like they are out there anyway," Johnson observes.

"We should have two on guard tonight. Each stand watch for twice as long," I suggest.

"It's a good idea," Stefan agrees.

"I'll stay up with Anat for the first shift, then do the other half in the morning."

"That works." Stefan agrees. Nobody else objects.

Cas and I are standing guard when a crash sounds from an area in the back with offices and a breakroom that had windows. We'd set up precariously balanced booby traps everywhere that someone might conceivably enter. Anat had resolved to figure out how to create some kind of trap or at least an alarm spell, but that's for the future. Once we'd set up the alarms, we walked through plans to stage ambushes in various locations within the store.

I move to stand guard at the door, trying to keep my armor from rattling any more than necessary. It isn't remotely quiet though. Cas quietly wakes everyone up. I've pressed myself against the wall an arms-length to the left of the door. Rodgers does the same on either side of the door as we hear more and more sounds of movement in the room beyond. Stefan is behind Rodgers with his shotgun and its machete-bayonet, while Cas is behind me with his bow. Johnson, Anat, and Ellie hide behind shelves in front of the door.

After a few minutes, the noises in the other room stop for a moment. Then several of the invaders rush through. They must not have many combat veterans because they all advance straight into the room without checking the wall behind them. An elementary mistake that any infantryman learns as soon as he's past basic training and learning to really soldier. Easier for us though. We let half a dozen enter, then we spring our trap.

Stefan's shotgun is deafening in the enclosed space. One of the attackers drops as Cas's bow skewers another. I push forward shield first to block the doorway, stabbing into the darkness beyond and hearing a cry of pain. Rodgers moves in behind me to protect my back, and I hear pandemonium as Johnson and Anat join the fray. Ellie has a special job, holding two large glass bottles of high-proof alcohol with burning wicks in them to provide a bit of light.

I have to fight two of the attackers at a time to hold them off, but with my armor and shield and them having to fight through the doorway it isn't hard. Still, it is nothing like fighting zomborgs. Rather than the unfocused aggression of the zombies, they fight intelligently, if with limited experience. I wonder briefly if I should feel differently about the rush of essence from killing a still-thinking survivor than I do about the essence from borgs. But a moment later, a jabbed spear forces me to duck and pushes the question out of my mind. We are lucky to have so many in our group who have trained before, both for their own sake as fighters and to teach and push each other to be the best we can. First one fighter and then another falls, but more take their places. The fight behind me doesn't last long though.

As soon as the first half-dozen that we let into the room are dispatched, Ellie throws the bottles of alcohol through the door beyond. Screams erupt and we can see another half dozen enemy fighters in the flames. Alcohol doesn't burn as hot as gasoline would, but it creates terror and chaos. A few seem to be trying to scramble back out the window, but most hurl themselves at the doorway. Rodgers pushes in beside me and we plug the doorway with both our shields. Johnson and Anat stab over our heads. Stefan pushes is shotgun over our shoulders and fires blindly into the melee. He doesn't have to aim as tightly as the bodies are packed, and two fighters fall, one behind the other. He must have used a slug. It doesn't last long and soon there is no more life in the room.

The store is on fire though, but we'd gathered fire extinguishers and get it mostly put out, with bottled water finishing some hard-to-reach areas. Still, it won't pay to stick around. We pack up and prepare to leave, unchaining the shopping carts that block the door. Anat scrawls a note on a notebook with a big marker and leaves it in the middle of the area with the first fight:

IF THEY'D TALKED INSTEAD OF ATTACKING THEY'D STILL BE ALIVE

We move out into the night with shields and weapons at the ready. Ellie is in the center, Anat leads flanked by Rodgers and Johnson, Cas and Stefan follow them. I bring up the rear, turning left and right watching behind us for anyone following.

We head south, preferring to draw any retribution away from our home base. We'd be leaving Beaumont for Port Aurthur before long anyway, and then heading to Houston after that. Fighting zomborgs in the darkness is a pain in the ass, but it is better than waiting around for anyone who escaped to get help. However well we can defend the store, they could always have simply set fire to it.

"What are the chances?" Anat asks after we fight through zomborgs for a couple of hours until the sky begins to get light. "What are the chances that we'd be us, instead of them?"

"What do you mean?" asks Stefan.

"I mean, we've got three experienced mystical practitioners, one of whom is medically skilled, two ex-military, two cops, I was a fencer. What's the chances?"

"There's a lot of dead nobodies in this city," says Rodgers. "If we were like them we wouldn't have the luxury of philosophical questions."

"Maybe those folks we killed got lucky in a different way. Maybe they were a bunch of gangers and none of them were augmented. So they were able to survive without having our skills. Until they met us at least."

"Yeah, I guess anyone who survived who wasn't borged was lucky. Their stories are probably all improbable in different ways."

"Exactly."

"Survivorship bias," says Cas simply.

We continue south through the commercial and light industrial districts between Beaumont and Port Arthur. Near the river, steel mills have been built, designed to receive high-temperature process heat from nuclear plants. Anat finds one of the sources of the toxicity we've seen. A line of abandoned nuclear power plants. They are some of the new ones that have been rushed into production in the last decade.

Creatures with short lifecycles seem to be more impacted. We see a variety of misshapen insects, but there are no doubt monstrous variations of everything else that lives in these lands that we just haven't seen. I remember the oversized possum monster that Anat, Stefan, and I killed so many years ago. And that was industrial waste turning toxic the thinner mana from before the apocalypse.

"I'm scared to think what any larger beast born in this environment would turn into," Ellie says.

"Yeah, things will get worse in coming years," says Stefan. "We built a lot of reactors when America was trying to re-industrialize after the Siberian Crisis. They were built fast, and there was a lot of talk of corners being cut. It was all hushed up thanks to the anti-propaganda laws."

"You think they all melted down? How could that happen?" Ellie replies.

Anat answers her. "Well, just a guess. What if the changes that slowed down stuff like explosions slowed down neutrons too. It might have made neutron moderators a lot more effective."

"Not really something in my wheelhouse, but I remember reading some stuff about nuclear accidents. I assume that something like that could make every reactor melt down," says Stefan.

"Yeah, possibly. What I'm feeling from them, the chaos is…wow. Just wow. I'm not sure they just melted down. I think they went prompt critical and blew themselves apart. Inside the containment structures." Everyone stares at Anat as she says that.

"Um, no idea what you said. I assume that's bad," says Ellie.

"Yeah, it's kinda like the start of a nuclear explosion but reactors aren't designed to stay together long enough to get all of the way there."

"So, you think that each of those containment buildings has a freaking Chernobyl sitting inside them?" Stefan asks.

"Pretty much, and they are all leaking. We should push through here as fast as we can," says Anat.

"Shit." Stefan says.

"Magical teratogenesis on one side, and diabolic creatures from hellish rifts on the other. Fuck us all," Cas hisses the words.

"Yeah, humanity is fucked for sure," Johnson says.

"Not if we can learn to fight, and work together. We can rebuild a new world." Anat's voice is fierce. "The more I think about it, that's what really pisses me off about the people that attacked us. If they hadn't been stupid we could have been allies. We need to work together as survivors, not kill each other off."