The world stopped again for Ezekiel’s turn. Three zombies were left, two barely alive. Whatever magical thing kept them alive, they needed to figure it out to kill them permanently.

Wait, couldn’t he figure out? Wasn’t that part of the game? They didn’t just roll for combat, but questions, too.

“How do we kill zombies?” It was easy to say the question out loud, because no one could hear him.

Roll for history or religion as bonus action.

Considering those two were Ezekiel’s only proficiency, he picked religion and rolled. He got an eleven, before the +4 made fifteen.

Ezekiel unfroze from time, glancing around at the still scene before him. He tried to move, but his legs were frozen in place. “What is this?”

“It’s how I roll for combat.” Rafael looked at his old group, a different exhaustion hitting him. “How are you seeing this?”

“I had an inspiration I wanted to tell you. I’ve read about the undead while at the temple. If they get hit by something not holy, they’re hard to kill. It’s like an extra measure of armor. But if a holy weapon pierces them, they’ll die like any regular creature.”

“Holy weapon.” Rafael mentally searched through his inventory. “Do you have a holy weapon?”

Ezekiel wore a medallion with the holy symbol of the Great Lady of Light he worshiped, but it wasn’t sharp. It was a silver circle about the size of his palm, with a book engraved in the center. Holy language around the side said, “Knowledge will set you free.” It had no sharp edges. He’d have to ponder this some more. Until then, Rafael picked the mace and rolled the d20. Fourteen plus four definitely hit. He then rolled his d6, and was more than pleased to get a six, plus two more. Since it wasn’t holy, he didn’t know if it would work.

The world resumed, and the mace caved in the zombie’s skull. A chunk of darkish matter sailed right through Rafael’s chest, leaving no residue. The zombie collapsed, yet tried to get up again, moaning. Rafael was about to tell everyone what he found, but Ezekiel beat him to it. “These zombies will drop like flies if we hit them with a holy weapon.”

“Does anyone have one?” Rafael asked.

High levels of anger shot out of the glare Nick pointed at Rafael. “That’s literally all your spells.”

The anger caused Rafael to throw up familiar walls. “It’s been a while since I played this game! Some of us actually have responsibilities in their life.”

“You’re a goddammed cleric! How do you forget your spells defeat undead?” Nick shouted.

It was too easy riling Nick up. If they weren’t fighting a few zombies, Nick would’ve already disappeared. Instead, Alejandra raised a hand. “Stop screaming at each other! It doesn’t do anyone any good!”

A zombie leapt up and bit a chunk out of Ezekiel’s thigh. He let out a scream and stumbled back. Rafael hissed in sympathy. “Ah, shit, that cut his hit points in half!”

“The only one I feel bad about is Ezekiel,” Nick mumbled to Derek, loud enough for Rafael to hear.

“I heard that.”

Nick folded his arms, not looking at him. “I know.”

“Are they in danger of being infected?” Alejandra asked, her eyes getting wide.

Derek shook his head. “CCNC zombies don’t infect. Thank god.”

The other zombie tried to attack Milo, but with renewed energy, he dodged the rotten teeth. He grabbed Clarissa’s arm to protect her before sticking his dagger in the zombie’s face. The zombie’s neck snapped back, and everyone held their breath until the zombie’s neck crunched before jerking the head back into place. Black ooze sprinkled on Milo, who flinched at the wetness before touching it.

Alejandra wrinkled her nose. “Well, that’s disgusting.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll collect it to research later,” Derek said.

Sometimes Rafael didn’t understand Derek. Or Milo.

In her weakened state, Clarissa scratched the zombie’s shoulder with her scimitar. She stumbled into Ezekiel’s arms, and he kept her upright. A nausea entered his stomach again seeing those two interact. Did they still have a crush on each other?

A groan escaped Clarissa as her hit points dropped to three, her knees threatening to give out. Derek’s fingernails dug into his cheeks. “We’re going to die. That’s our only healer.”

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“Get back in the vehicle where you’re safe.” Ezekiel’s voice turned serious as Rafael’s nausea turned into revulsion. Ezekiel studied Clarissa, the deep feelings obvious in his gaze as he wrapped a protective arm around her. It took every ounce of strength not to look at Evelyn with horror.

Grizzizzik swiped with his rapier. The blade grazed the zombie’s neck and bled a black, oily goo. The zombie lunged, latching on to Grizzizzik who let out a cry of surprise more than pain, losing three points.

Hraktar strode forward to the zombie attached to Grizzizzik. In a wild attempt, Hraktar grabbed it by the neck, threw it up like a baseball, then slammed it with his great sword. The zombie’s spine severed. The upper body was in the air a few seconds before both halves crumpled to the ground. Undead light disappeared from its sockets.

Despite the gruesome ending, Alejandra beamed. “After that roll, I would’ve been surprised if it survived.”

Grizzizzik rubbed his shoulder. “I helped.”

“Yes, you did. Good job.” Hraktar patted the rogue on the head, bobbing with every pat. Grizzizzik poked Hraktar with his rapier.

“Stop it.”

The world slowed down again. Rafael felt exhausted. There were two zombies left. Technically, one and a half, since Hraktar cut the other one. He scanned the spells he could have used.

“Can I prepare my spells now?” Rafael asked.

Take one turn to study a spell to use on your next turn.

“I’ll take it.”

The spells turned yellow, and he mentally scrolled through them. He read fast, sensing the world frozen for a short time. Already, the world started to unfreeze, things moving in slow motion.

Rafael landed on a spell and nodded. “Learn sacred flame.”

The world righted itself again. Ezekiel stared at the two zombies barely holding on to life. He paused, then glanced at Milo. “Hey, Milo?”

“I’ve got you,” Milo said.

The cleric stepped away from the zombies, taking out a book from… somewhere behind his back. He then sat on a rock, flipped through the pages, then closed his eyes and prayed.

“Um, what is he doing?” Nick asked.

“Learning a spell. It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” Rafael tried not to sound bitter.

Nick’s lips pursed together. Rafael refused to be afraid of his non-verbal tantrum.

The first zombie Hraktar sliced was in a heap on the ground, moaning. The other one pounced on Milo, biting his neck as it sliced into an artery, blood shooting everywhere. Rafael watched with wide eyes as Milo collapsed again, his points dropping to zero.

“Seriously! Level one is the worst!” Derek scratched the back of his head, trying not to panic. “At least I got a save that time.”

Clarissa was already there, chanting in a language as old as trees. Forest green light glowed from her hands before vines of magic again shot into Milo.

“Sorry! Bad roll!” Evelyn called from the car.

They watched Milo’s hit points move to three. Derek shrugged. “It’s better than nothing.”

Clarissa was in danger of collapsing as her hit points dropped to two. Tears pricked her eyes as her hands trembled.

“It’s… gone. My mana.” Her wet eyes shot to Milo as he caught her gaze. “It’s not coming back, is it? My… my cantrips. They’re weakening.”

Milo held his neck and coughed. The healing did enough that a small trickle of blood remained. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

Grizzizzik moved to the mound of mush; yet was still alive. He slammed his rapier down, the undead light left the creature. Nick rubbed his scarred eyebrow. “Finally.”

Hraktar ran to the last zombie, holding his great sword and swiping at the zombie’s neck. The head popped off, and it bounced around his feet, snarling at Hraktar’s ankles. The fighter stepped back, his nostrils flaring. “These things are pests.”

Time stood still, and Rafael felt nothing but exhaustion. He didn’t want to be here. Zombies were in Arizona, and he hated it. He just wanted to walk away. He mentally chose sacred flame and rolled for damage.

The world resumed, and Ezekiel shut his book. He stood up and placed his book in his back. There was no pack there. Where was he holding that? The cleric strode forward, lifting a hand and chanting a rote prayer to the Great Lady. Flames of white light pooled into his hand before bursting from his palm. Light slammed into the last zombie. Rafael expected the stench of rotten, burning flesh, but when the light hit, the stench disappeared with it, leaving dust on the ground and the air easier to breathe.

The zombies were all dead. It was a ride of adrenaline, and everyone sucked in air. Green words appeared again, and Rafael jerked around, terrified another monster would appear. Different numbers appeared, and he squinted to see 40/300XP.

That number caused all the frustration to slam into him.

Grizzizzik sheathed his rapier, glaring at the cleric. “Glad you could finally learn a spell, Ezekiel.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Ezekiel was unaware of the jab. He turned without being prompted and picked Clarissa up. She allowed him, too exhausted to protest. Evelyn was there, too, leading them to the car.

Rafael gripped his knees, taking breaths he knew were to keep a panic attack at bay. “Zombies. Why are zombies here? In Elmwood?”

With a small clearing of his throat, Derek started to speak. “Milo’s bomb went off. The entire party died and came here. I… I suppose that means everyone who died traveled here, too.”

Whatever the answer was, Rafael knew he’d never be prepared. But he had to ask. “How many creatures died?”

Those two idiots he used to hang out with exchanged terrified glances. Rafael waited, hands still on his knees, as anger drew his brows together.

“E-everyone within a five-hundred-mile radius,” Nick said.

Rafael closed his eyes. “Please tell me you were in the middle of nowhere when it happened.”

“We… were in Torraq’s evil lair,” Derek said.

“Oh, shit.” Nick’s eyes widened. “Torraq. He’s… here.”

Rafael dropped his head in defeat as Derek let out a shuddering breath. Torraq. Even people who didn’t know CCNC knew Torraq from the smut fanfiction.

“Torraq. And every creature in his lair,” Alejandra whispered.

It was better to keep his head hung, or else he’d pin Derek and Nick with an ugly glare. His hands still gave his knees the grip of death as he tried to calm down. Instead, every emotion shut down. He couldn’t do this. A strange amount of calm came when he realized he didn’t have to. None of this was his fault, and he hadn’t seen these people in years. Their mess was not his responsibility. More importantly, he refused to be near Evelyn.

Rafael still had a towel around his waist with the smaller towel around his neck. His hair was damp, but his skin had been dry for a while. He straightened, gathering every ounce of courage he had and snapped the smaller towel off his neck. “I’m getting dressed. Then we’re going to talk.” Rafael marched past the two idiots toward the dressing room.