Level Up!

You are now Level 2

5 stat points available

XP to next level: 2,000

I blinked through the pain and read the messages drifting in. Level two. Yay... I had bigger problems at the moment.

With a bit of mental fumbling, I managed to pull up my inventory. It occurred to me that while this might be something I could manage to do during combat, it would be extremely dangerous. Even partially opaque, the interface took a good deal of my concentration to navigate. I probably shouldn’t count on being able to heal myself while actively fighting.

-Inventory-

(8) Common Cores

(1) Yellow Quality Loot Box

It took a full five of my common cores before I could breathe easily. I lay amid the blood and broken boards as my flesh knit together and my organs returned to the proper side of my skin. Soon, even my leg had pulled itself back together. I wobbled to my paws.

From here, I surveyed the damage to the pallets. That plan had worked, but also it hadn’t. I needed to either find another way to strike at these monsters or locate some better protection. While my supply of cores was steadily increasing, it would only take another bad turn of luck or foolish mistake to see me wounded and with no way to heal myself.

And that was twice now I’d been near the cusp of death—all in less than an hour!

To that end, I decided to open my loot box before assigning my points. While my inclination was to continue raising Power for both more strength and defense, I also wanted to see my Speed increase, because if I was fast enough, then being tough wouldn’t matter. Can’t damage what you can’t touch.

Depending on what was in the box, I’d decide how I wanted to distribute my points. Ideally, this box would contain either some armor, or an additional weapon to complement Claw Slash.

With no further enemies in sight—though I still had at least three dots moving around near the edges of my vision—I selected the box and ordered it to open.

This time, the container that appeared was a deep yellow color, not dissimilar to the dots that denoted enemies. I was certain this time it wasn’t mere paint. It also felt like the box wasn’t fully there at all. Certainly no smell to it.

Inside, a small bracelet with the image of a paw print embossed into it lay at the bottom.

Bracelet of Minor Replication

Level 5

Must be equipped to a hind leg. When activated, this bracelet immediately moves the user up to ten feet to the rear, or when they encounter another solid object, whichever occurs first. At the same time, an illusion of the user is left in their previous position. Enemies have a 50% chance of believing this illusion to be the caster. If the illusion is successful, the user will be rendered invisible for 10 seconds. Usable once every ten minutes.

Pre-Requisite: 15 Agility. (Warning: you do not currently meet minimum requirements)

That was... huh. It wasn’t a weapon, but it wasn’t armor, either. It was... a utility feature? I wasn’t sure how to categorize it. This was also the first time I’d encountered an item with restrictions. Not only could I not equip this for the next two levels at least, but it also had to be on a hind leg.

Did I want to spend my points on Agility? While admittedly, the ability to evade attacks was a feature I wanted, I’d hope to achieve it by simply being faster than these zombies.

But what if there was worse than zombies waiting for me out there?

I returned the bracelet to my inventory, then gave myself another good shake out. My fur was starting to get caked with blood and gore. I could use a good cleaning, not to mention I was starting to feel parched. Those chips had filled me, but they had been incredibly salty. How did humans manage to eat so many of them?

A recent memory tickled the back of my mind. Near the waterfront was a hose with a leaky connection. I’d been returning to it periodically to get drinks over the last few weeks.

While there might not be enough in the puddle for a bath, it could at least quench my thirst. And on the way, I could clear out the remaining zombies, working my way towards level three.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Yes, that sounded like a good next step. After that I could decide where my path was taking me.

I padded off in the direction of the nearest dot, resolving to only engage zombies from now on when they were by themselves. I’d had enough of being ganged up on. And chewed. Definitely no more being chewed on.

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It didn’t take too long to encounter a problem.

Taking out a lone zombie was no issue now. A quick dart in, a hit of the neck with claw slash, circle around and chomp on the head. Simple and done, if distasteful. One was armless and didn’t even need that much. I simply knocked it over and bit it to death... or re-death.

The problem was that I no longer received experience.

You have defeated: Zombie (Basic) — Level 1

0 XP and 1 Common Core awarded.

It seemed now that I was level 2, the zombies didn’t count for furthering my advancement. Unless I located some that were also higher level, I was stuck.

Luckily, they still provided cores, so I made a point to clear out all remaining dots as they appeared in my vision. By the time I reached the waterfront, I was up to seven common cores—a respectable amount.

My Claw Slash was also still progressing. Between the additional zombies and some practice in between, I was up to 20%.

I found the leaking hose where I’d last seen it. A puddle of water had formed beneath it some time ago, making it easy to lap up what I needed. There was a gray scum growing at one end, but I recalled seeing that before my change, so it was probably benign.

After I had my fill, I contemplated rolling in the puddle to try and cleanse my fur, but there wasn’t nearly enough water for that. My eyes drifted to the nearby bay. It would be quick enough to clean off in there, but the trouble was getting back up to the shipyard again. The only way I saw were several ladders, which were out for obvious reasons.

Past the docks, several large vessels full of shipping containers sat idling in the bay. One of them seemed lower than it should have, but perhaps it was merely weighed down more. Considering the immense stacks of containers on its decks, I could believe that.

But the lack of any people troubled me. Beyond the dead—and undead—I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen a human. In fact, not counting my imprisonment in the cocoon, it must have been a week or more since I’d seen anything besides raccoons. Even other dogs appeared in short supply around here.

And no people. Which was strange. People were everywhere. I usually had to work hard to avoid being seen by people. Standing out here in the open... it didn’t feel natural.

The smart decision would have been not to pry. I could have spent my time amid the shipping containers, feasting on chips until I was fat and happy. But my curiosity gnawed at me.

I decided to poke around a little.

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To the northwest of the shipping containers and the docks was a parking lot where the workers usually left their vehicles. It had a score of trucks parked at the moment, but I thought those might belong to one of the dockyard companies rather than individuals. If so, the fact there were no personal vehicles was encouraging. Maybe my thought that it was a holiday hadn’t been too far off.

Beyond the parking lot was a warehouse. I wasn’t sure its exact purpose, but I knew that there were often humans here, even on otherwise quiet days. Unfortunately, I couldn’t spot any from outside.

With a quick glance to either side, I padded across the parking lot and approached the main bay door. It was wide open, tall and wide enough for a semi-truck to drive through.

There were no trucks in evidence now. No people, either. The inside of the warehouse was quiet, and dark. Was the power out? I couldn’t think of any other reason the workers would have left the door open and unattended like this.

Hesitating, I checked behind me again, but not spotting anyone, I slipped inside.

Immediately, my Night Vision activated. Shadows retreated, revealing the interior of the building stretching into the distance just far enough I couldn’t make out its end. Perhaps fifteen or twenty rows of shelves began a short distance from the entrance, their lengths running out of sight.

I turned and began investigating each row in turn. The shelves themselves were full of boxes or shrink-wrapped products sitting atop pallets, not unlike the ones outside.

No people though. Not even any bodies. No blood on the floor, or signs of a struggle.

By the last row I was ready to retreat, to leave the gloomy warehouse to its mysteries, but about halfway down the warehouse length I noticed a door set into the wall. Perhaps it led to some offices, or even an employee bathroom. Either way, I decided it was worth further investigation.

If the door yielded no results though, I was getting out of here—and not coming back.

My paws made the barest tip tap on the cement as I padded my way to the door. When I reached it I found it closed, which I had expected. It also had a wide window next to it, which I had not.

I jumped up, leaning my forelegs against the glass. From there I was able to peer inside.

Even with my Night Vision, I couldn’t see much. It looked like a small office, probably the foreman’s. There was a plain desk, a few family portraits along the walls, and a half-full water cooler near the door.

There was also an object behind the desk. I could just make out something sticking out near the edge, but not what it was.

I slid from the window and approached the door. It took a moment of gnawing on the knob, but I managed to turn it enough that it swung open an inch. I nosed it wider and slipped inside.

The smell that struck me on entering almost made me retreat. It was the same as what I had smelled when I first awoke and stepped out of the shipping container. Except... older. Decay, but arrested. Faded.

I padded forward and hesitantly peeked around the desk. A man’s body lay slumped against the wall.

I had known from the smell what to expect, but it still caught me by surprise.

At least this one was many days gone. Also, sealed in the room as it was, it lacked the attentive modifications brought on by scavengers. There was almost a mummified look to him.

But not enough to hide the cause of death. Nearly half of his skull was missing. A revolver lay in the man’s lap where he had dropped it. The wall behind him was dark with the now ancient stain of his lifeblood. Several bottles of what I thought might be whiskey lay in various stages of emptiness around them, along with a few cigars.

What had happened here? What could have been so bad that this man chose to take his own life rather than flee?

While I pondered this, I failed to notice the small dots forming at the edges of my vision. When I finally turned around, they swam forward. A half-dozen of them spread out across the warehouse floor.

And all of them an angry yellow color.