John woke up lying on the soft warm covers draped over his bed. Feeling well-rested and filled with energy, he let his legs slide over the side and land on the polished wooden floor.
Mmm, how long have I been asleep? He wondered before standing up, tying a towel around his midsection, and starting his favorite stretching exercises.
It was the first time since his evolution, and the differences were significant. He was easily aware that his muscles could exert far more power, and his heightened reflexes allowed inhuman reactions and sudden movements, but that wasn't all that changed.
As he flowed through the forms, he immediately noticed the increase in the range of motion. Previously, he could comfortably touch his toes, but now placing whole palms on the ground was somehow doable, and the same trend continued with lunges, sitting stretches, and even the couple of arm balance exercises that he saw in a yoga class. All were now easier to replicate, and he enjoyed the ease and grace with which he could flow through them like water.
With his mind clear of thoughts, he finished the whole routine and set back in his bed. It was once again easy to think about the wider picture, and as he went through the whole encounter and the events leading to it, he noticed an alarmingly significant discrepancy.
Colonel Reeds had told him that there were two strange undead monsters in Charles' Castle, but that would mean the people obtaining that information had to pass through the gardens, outer courtyard, and step into the inner one with the boss…
That not only couldn't be done by a single scout but also the exploring group would have initiated the encounter!
How they brought the information back out, he wasn't certain, but the obvious thing was that they guided him into a deathtrap, hoping he would die there.
Trying to find different points of view or any other reasons or explanations proved mostly fruitless, leading him to three most likely guesses.
Perhaps they were so incompetent they forgot to warn him, or they heard it from some other group of survivors. Both were theoretically possible even if very unlikely and what remained was that they deliberately used his interest against him and attempted to lead him to his death.
Before deciding on what to do next, he needed to figure out the current time. Unfortunately, another problem came up as he opened up the washing machine.
The clothes he pulled out were perfectly clean, but absolutely shredded. His jacket was missing the whole right sleeve and the majority of the front was hanging by the threads, his pants looked like those trendy ones with half a dozen cuts and holes in them, and the only thing that survived with only a single small tear was the brown shirt he was wearing under his mail.
Of course, after inspecting the chainmail, the area covering the right side of his lower ribs had two-inch cuts that tore up the links from the claw that penetrated through.
Shrugging his shoulders he put the damaged clothes on and headed downstairs.
"Excuse me, Slayer of Gorax'thal, do you know what time it is?"
"That is not information I have access to. I can't see outside the inn, so I have no frame of reference to figure that out."
Hearing his answer, John sighed and was about to head out but was stopped by the youth's uncertain voice.
"Ehm… would knowing the time from integration help?"
"Integration?"
"The time when everything," the youth gestured around himself, "began and the monsters came into your world."
"Oh, absolutely. That would help me very much." John said with an expectant smile.
"It would be two days twenty-two hours and forty-three minutes using your time measurements."
"That's… perfect. Thank you, you've been of great help."
It was perfect because he had just enough time to pay the Colonel's shelter a quick visit and drop there a nasty surprise.
Leaving quickly, he passed through the archway into the inner courtyard, and carefully backtracked the path to the outside. The outer courtyard remained untouched, same with the drawbridge, and the only threat was the climb over the wall and passing through the garden unseen.
Luckily, everything worked out and before long, John was descending the stairwell leading back into the gilded district.
Passing through to the shelter should take roughly thirty minutes, leaving him with another thirty to spare.
He was just passing a modern villa when an idea struck him.
It could have some usable clothes.
Stopping, he remained standing in front of the damaged fence, debating if he should break in and steal them. He felt it was kind of wrong to steal, but this was the Apocalypse so…
Damn it, I'm not gonna run around in these clothes!
Making up his mind, he stepped over the broken fence and headed into the villa ahead.
"Hello! Anyone in here?"
The place seemed abandoned, and he was able to pass through the hall, the stairwell leading to the second floor, and into a room with a king-sized bed. There he also found two large wardrobes filled with many articles of clothing.
The one on the left was filled with over a dozen suits, a couple of formal boots, and long formal jackets to match each of the suit's colors.
The one on the right was filled with casual—yet comparable in quality—clothes for day-to-day wearing.
Pulling out a blue shirt with the softest cloth he had ever touched, he inspected the front and yelled out in surprise.
"A fucking Prada!"
Well, it took John a single look at himself, and he was already throwing his clothes on the ground and dressing up in the ultra-expensive articles from the wardrobe.
He ended up in dark blue pants, a black shirt over which he put the dark gray mail, and a light dark-brown leather jacket.
It was funny, how great the clothes felt. The owner was probably a slightly larger man with a well-toned figure who liked form-fitting shirts because those were only a little larger but otherwise perfectly comfortable.
If only I could take all of those with me, he thought while looking wistfully at the right wardrobe, when a crazy idea popped up in his head.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Inviolable escape!
He focused on a spot on the right side of the room and succeeded in making the archway there.
Grabbing the side of the wooden piece of furniture, he used his considerable strength to push it from the wall and then slowly dragged over the polished floor right into the arch.
"Wohooo," he clapped, staring at the wardrobe in the middle of his bastion.
This changes so much, he thought with a wide grin as he returned back to the villa.
The suits, while impressive, were not his favorite clothes, so he let that wardrobe remain untouched and left the villa behind.
The remaining track back went fairly well, and he was forced to do only a couple of stops to clear an annoying pack wandering into his path.
"Halt! Identify yourself." A guard in front of their main gate called out.
"John, coming from Charles' Castle with an important message for Colonel Reeds."
That threw the guards off, and they looked at each other with uncertain expressions.
"What is the message?"
"The Colonel needs to decide the need to know. Let him know that I need to speak with him."
"Okay… wait here, and I'll pass the information up."
It took five minutes for him to be ushered in. The inside of the shelter was bustling with activity as the groups were preparing for the imminent wave of Restless Assault, but he wasn't allowed to explore and was quickly led into the same building where he met with the Colonel previously.
This time, they ushered him in the moment they passed through the hallway, and he was once again standing before the Colonel.
The three other people he met here previously were already animatedly arguing between themselves as he stepped in.
"John, I was informed you have important information for me. Please make it quick, the assault starts in," he made a quick look at the bulky silver watch on his right hand, "in eleven minutes."
This was the time for the ploy John thought of on his way here.
"I got into Charles' castle, and found a garden filled with Rothounds, but after carefully making my way through… well, as I passed through the courtyards, they were empty."
He tried to sound just the right mix of confused and accusatory to make it believable, and seeing the sudden frowns form on the people's faces, he forged forward.
"The only monster I saw before leaving was a large dead Rothound hanging over the drawbridge. Did you clear that place beforehand?"
This got the reaction out of them as they started to argue in hushed whispers, which were easily overheard by his heightened hearing.
"He knew about the Rothound Alpha which means…"
"Bullshit, a single man couldn't pass through the garden."
"What if Jonathan and Patrick lied, they could have…"
Meanwhile, John pretended to look through the books lining the shelf on his right to seem more inconspicuous.
"Could some other group be the…"
The whispers stopped as Colonel Reeds raised his hand in a clear gesture.
"John?"
"Hm?"
"How did you get through the garden?"
"Oh, that was quite tricky. The packs were blocking all access to the gate, and I didn't want to risk an engagement with so many at once, but luckily I noticed a blindspot in their patrols that allowed me to climb over the wall unnoticed."
"Oh, that… that would explain it." Reeds lightly chuckled, before giving one of the three unknown people a sharp look.
Sparing another glance at his watch, the Colonel quickly stood up.
"Time's up. Get your man into positions, and make sure nothing goes wrong. We can't afford to lose more capable people!"
With crisp military salutes, the three men filed out, followed by the Colonel who gestured for John to follow.
"Let me show you, John, why we are going to be the ones in charge." The Colonel said with absolute conviction in his steely voice.
Well, let's see indeed.
[Attention Iron Citadel!
The fourth wave of relentless assault is about to begin. You have ten minutes to prepare]
They took a position on the wall and John watched as the other defenders also formed into ranks. Some formed on the wall facing three predetermined directions, while others climbed up five-meter-high construction scaffoldings prepared a couple of meters behind the wall..
There were no last-minute incomers or people moving or talking over themselves, and John observed the battle-ready men and the Colonel standing in his military uniform, his back ramrod straight, and keeping a firm but proud expression. He had to give it to them, organization and discipline were their strong suits.
The Assault started like those he had seen before with tears taking form roughly a hundred meters away from the corresponding sections of the wall. Two were on the opposite sides of the street and apparently the last somewhere to the north.
The masses of zombies leading the charge were shot down by the controlled barrages of long-range abilities, but as time flew by the middle-range fighters manning the wall became unable to prevent everything from reaching the foot of the wall, forcing a shift in strategy.
It, however, seemed like an expected outcome, as two-thirds of the people suddenly abandoned the wall, and reformed ten meters behind it.
What the fuck are they doing?
The last third remained, and using a wide variety of weapons started either stabbing downward or using close-range abilities to keep the pressing mass from climbing over.
Some ranged combatants provided support from the other side of the wall, but most of the kills were done by the melee and of course those on the scaffolding who were throwing long-range abilities over the wall.
It was true, having rows of houses lining up the street was a huge advantage, but the way this shelter fought so far did not impress John at all.
Yes, they were able to overcome the zombies without any injuries, but still…
Let's see how they handle the hounds.
In the short lull, those behind the wall once again climbed back up, reforming the previous formations.
Meanwhile, the Rothounds were allowed to form into ranks, and charge forward as a single mass of bodies and angry snarls.
John watched the left side of the street, where the opening salvos took three hounds out of the fight before the pack reached a five-meter distance from the wall.
As if on cue, a woman with a long brown braid placed her palms over the wall's edge and shot down a yellow pulse of energy.
The ground shimmered and changed into a foot-high wave of mud flowing directly toward the incoming hounds, and the outcome was as terrifying as it was impressive.
Their legs slipped under them and broke or twisted the wrong way, but their bodies continued with their momentum forward, rolling the remaining few meters and crashing into the wall. It was an absolute slaughter.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Seeing John nod, the Colonel continued with his pitch.
"Join us, and I'll personally make sure you get a place among us. I can tell that you are competent, but this new world is not fit for lone wolves. Without the stability and safety that shelters provide, you will eventually get yourself killed."
Looking back to the wall, they were putting the last struggling beasts out of their misery, but there was one more surprise coming.
"Tell me, Colonel, did you send me to the castle to get me killed?"
John pushed his every sense to the maximum, carefully watching for even the most minuscule reactions, and a slight flinch followed by a light hitch of breath and a twitch of his right hand gave him enough proof. Especially with the small pieces he overhead during their hushed conversation, it painted a fairly clear picture.
The group they sent must have left two of theirs to cover their backs from the outer courtyard, thus remaining locked out and being the only ones to make it out alive.
"Why would you think that? You stated many times, you can handle yourself out there so blaming me for sending you to a dangerous location is quite disingenuous, don't you think?"
Shaking his head, John gave a very simple answer, "I will be frank with you. I don't trust you and am quite sure you hoped for me to die there, so my answer is No. I am not interested in joining your shelter."
"A pity… I have really hoped for you to see reason. Don't blame me for…"
"I think you have more important things to do than throw around impotent threats," John interrupted with a smile and a nod toward the east.
There, Mr. Reeds saw the breach already stretched wide, and the massive skeletal monstrosity slowly passing through.