Roman let out a long sigh and forced himself to relax, sinking into the ratty cloth seat. Once the tension eased out of his body, the last traces of adrenaline in his system burned away; all at once, overwhelming fatigue rushed over him. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and drift off, but he forced himself to remain conscious despite sleep’s soft allure.

No telling what would happen in this new world. The system could give Birch a quest to off him in exchange for a few attribute points. A dragon covered in tentacles could dive down from the sky and seize the car. Who knew, really?

He glanced over at his new acquaintance and found the man was stealing looks at him as well.

“Glovebox,” said Birch, nodding in its direction.

Roman paused for a moment before obeying. He hoped the man was one of those truly paranoid gun enthusiasts who stashed multiple of them within reach at all times, but no handgun was waiting for him. Even better, inside was a cluster of cheap brown napkins atop a mess of papers.

“Thanks,” he said before scrubbing away at his face some more. He considered checking his reflection in his sun visor and immediately thought better of it. No chance that’d be a pretty sight.

As more of a distraction than anything, he pulled up his status screen.

Roman Miller

Species: Human (E)

Class: Chaos Disciple (Rare)

Patronage: None (10 Pending)

Level: 4

Nemesis: Nyarlathotep

Titles: Savage Survivor, Eligible Bachelor

Base Attributes

Strength: 22

Agility: 17

Endurance: 21

Will: 17

Perception: 9

Charisma: 9

Skills

Path of the Corrupted Monk, Initiate

Innate: Chaos Touch (I)

Selected: Flash Step (I)

The node system screen had also unlocked, but it looked a damn mess. Trying to make sense of it would probably put him to sleep faster than anything.

To Birch’s credit, the man kept trying to break the ice, forcing a bit of hollow cheer into his voice. “Wild shit. Really wish I’d just wake up all the sudden. You, uh, used some powers back there to help save me, I saw. Thank ya, by the way. You got this little game screen thing going on too, then?”

Roman turned his head to look out the window. Almost he could convince himself that he was on a normal night cruise through some backwoods. Until he noticed a flipped car on the side of the road, dark smoke drifting from the hood. No sign of its driver. Probably some carrion golem was wandering through the night, on the way to doing whatever it was they were created to do.

John spoke up from the back. “You always were awful at small talk, man. By the way, we should really work on your first node as soon as possible.”

Birch showed no sign of overhearing the guide.

“Yeah,” Roman finally responded. The word tasted harsh in his mouth. All the blood from his injured tongue didn’t help.

Birch glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “I got some mission thing. You know, kill one of those monsters and escape the area. All done now. Guessing you got one too, then. Saw you turn that thing to mincemeat in the ring. Bet that got you some good rewards, no?”

Roman wasn’t in the mood to chitchat, but it was probably for the best if he got on the man’s good side. Less likely to have his throat cut in the middle of the night if they had a little rapport built up. Maybe it was best to keep some things a secret, but there was no harm in discussing matters they both already knew.

“Not bad,” he admitted. “You get a guide too?”

Birch’s knuckles whitened as he squeezed the steering wheel. Despite his superficial pudginess, an impressive amount of muscle stood out along his tattooed forearms. He looked like he’d been something of a brawler himself a decade or two ago, but like many hotheaded men he’d calmed down over time and surrendered in his battle against developing something of a gut.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low. “She was sitting in that passenger seat until you climbed in. She’s in the backseat now. My wife, Mandy. Love her, always have and always will, but this is…”

Wincing, Roman twisted to look in the backseat. Only John was there, shrugging at the empty seats beside him before shaking his head.

Birch sighed. “Reckon you can’t see her, then. Loved you for almost my whole life now, Mandy. You know that, sweetheart. But this is…this is…”

Roman cleared his throat. “Try the radio, maybe? Pray there’s some good news. You got a cellphone? I left all my shit behind.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“There’s an idea.” Birch fiddled with the knobs of his archaic sound system, his fingers trembling slightly. Every channel broadcasted nothing but static. “Well damn. Never did get me one of those cellular phones. Always rubbed me the wrong way. World’s gotten too big since I was a littl’un.”

“Most electronics will be useless at this point,” John chimed in. “Initializing the system also would have altered several pertinent laws of the universe within this localized galaxy. Nukes won’t work, for instance. Most technology beyond a threshold won’t.”

Roman exhaled through his nose and didn’t respond. A lot of fancy words, there. John wouldn’t talk that way. The system must’ve drilled spiels like that into him.

After a minute the winding backwoods cleared away, transforming into the typical hodgepodge of gas stations, fast food restaurants, and trailers with broken-down cars out front that exemplified much of rural America. At least the electrical systems such as lights still appeared to be working, at least for now, though most of the buildings were closed for the night. The analog timer on the radio read 10:32.

“Stop here, will you?” Roman pointed at the approaching gas station. “Fill up the tank, grab all the food we can. Maybe steal a better ride, no offense.”

Birch forced out a chuckle. “Yeah, gotta take advantage any way we can, huh? Bit overdue for an upgrade anyways. You think any those monsters will be in there?”

Roman flexed his hands, staring down at his raw knuckles. “Reckon so. That first string of messages said that ninety-five percent of the population would be, what, repurposed? Can’t imagine it’s for much good.”

“Guess not.”

They pulled into the gas station. There were only two other vehicles: a beat-up old Civic tucked along the side of the building, probably belonging to the attendant on duty, and a shiny new Subaru Forester parked beside one of the pumps. Both of the SUV’s front doors were flung open, revealing a puddle of congealing blood on the driver’s seat. A trail of crimson footprints wandered off down the side of the road.

Roman unbuckled his seatbelt and shoved his door open. Unnatural silence hung heavy in the night. When he tossed the used napkins into a trashcan, the slight rustling sounded strangely loud to his ears. At least the chilly November air helped wake him up a touch, though he’d need to find a shirt at some point.

He approached the SUV, Birch following close behind with his camoflauge-patterned rifle at the ready.

The vehicle was still on and idling. A faint hum of static from the radio became audible as he came closer. He leaned inside, nose wrinkling at the foul stench, and confirmed the keys were in the ignition. A cellphone rested atop the center console, charging from one of the USB ports. Good start.

Roman picked up the phone. Password protected, which was to no surprise, but he was more interested in seeing if it had service. Unfortunately there were no bars in the upper corner, only a mocking ellipsis: no signal.

“Damn,” he muttered.

Then a faint cry rang out. Roman jumped in surprise. Dread started to trickle into his mind as he realized what the sound must be.

It came from the back of the vehicle. An infant’s car seat, mercifully facing away from him so he couldn’t see whatever it contained. The cry was not quite human, let alone something that should come from a baby--too raw, too broken. Roman’s gaze lingered on the car seat for a few seconds before he leaned back and slowly closed the door with both hands.

Birch’s massive Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. No doubt he’d heard the cry as well. “So it’s like that, huh, Mandy? Well then.”

John appeared at Roman’s side, errant beams of moonlight flickering about his outline. He stood in front of the rear driverside door, arms crossed, peering through the dark tint to where the infant struggled within its cloth-and-plastic prison.

Either some sort of mental bond was forming between them, or Roman just knew what his friend must be thinking after all these years. And if Birch was going to speak to his invisible companion, Roman wasn’t going to be shy about it either.

He moved to clap a hand on John’s shoulder, stopped when he realized he wasn’t quite ready to see if his hand would pass through his old friend like he was made of smoke. “You’re thinking of Holly, aren’t you?”

John’s first real expression broke through---that familiar, consternated furrowing of his forehead. “Jenny, too. They were my rock during what felt like an eternity in Hell. My anchor. After a while they stop being people to me. They become something more, something sacred. I’ve not stopped thinking about them.”

Roman said the only thing that came to mind, “I’m sorry.”

John’s mask slipped a little. His lips quivered, and a hint of wetness glistened in his eyes. “God. I shouldn’t ask. I’m supposed to be the one helping you out. But you’ll find them, won’t you, Ro’? I know they’ve probably been turned into monsters. Driven insane. But promise me you’ll find them.”

[ New side quest available: A Happy Little Family. Discover the fates of Jenny and Holly Clark. Reward: ??? ]

Fuck you.

“I promise you, I’ll find them,” said Roman.

[ Side quest accepted. ]

John turned his face away as if embarrassed. “Promise me you’ll punish the bastards responsible for all this.”

Roman noted the system didn’t generate a quest for that one.

“I’ll punish the bastards responsible for all this,” he said. The sentiment felt much less convincing spoken aloud.

John nodded slowly. “I know you will. And I’ll help you do it.”

Birch coughed and adjusted the rifle against his shoulder. “We should check out the inside. Apparently it could be a Store controlled by the system if the building’s still up and workin’.”

“He’s right,” said John. “Though you never know--the entire place could be filled with hidden traps. Really, you shouldn’t hold back on unlocking as much of your first node as possible. The boosts are nothing to scoff at. I recommend you go for the [ Hunter’s Eye ] quirk. It’ll help you spot danger as well as opportunity. Best to up your survivability so you don’t die from a random attack in the night. You already have a solid offensive focus.”

Roman rubbed his chin and pulled up the node system.

Most of his vision filled with an intricate pattern, a variety of spirals composed of line-linked dots. One bright spark in the center of the map marked his starting point, and dozens of available node clusters formed an orbit around it.

Each cluster was formed by at least five individual dots arranged in a spiral. As far as he could tell, once he spent enough points to light up each node, the relevant quirk would unlock. Each node connected to a multitude of adjacent clusters, all of them grayed out; likely they would be available once he completed the prerequisite quirk. A wide selection of related choices branched out from each cluster, complete with their own slew of options, almost like a massive fractal that seemed to stretch into infinity in all directions.

“Give me a second, Birch,” he said. “Going to finish up all my, uh, power-ups for now. Best do the same if you haven’t already.”

Time to invest the last of his available rewards.