As I was about to exit my screen, I noticed two more tabs available. Opening them up, I saw one was for parties and one was for quests. It appeared you couldn’t make a party until you were level five. I surmised the system generically assigned you to a party with whom you were associated prior to level five and granted EXP equally across the board. I wondered if I didn’t make a party after this, would I only get EXP for kills I made myself and not members of my team? Furthermore, would I no longer get EXP for kills Dog made? Something to look into for sure.

I opened up the quests tab and saw that the already completed quest for “Damsel in Distress” was in my logs. Apparently I’d be able to earn quests and gain benefits from them. This was something I was extremely excited about. Gaming was all about questing or adventuring and leveling up. Figuring it was time to leave, I exited my screen.

“Did you level up?" I asked Frank.

“Yeah, I sure did, I even picked up my class.”

“Oh cool, what class did you get?" I asked.

“I chose Warrior. There were a couple of other choices but I’m not into all this gaming stuff and I’m comfortable with just smashing heads.”

“See, I said, that’s the reason why I’m sure you didn’t have a Monk class choice. I’d bet all my stats you didn’t get it. If you had, I guarantee you would have selected it. Did you get some Berserker class choice?" I asked knowingly with a wide grin. Frank looked sheepishly at his feet. “Ha, I knew it,” I laughed. What spell and ability did you pick?”

“For my spell I selected Stunning Blow, and then a dodge ability. I’m not very dexterous so I figured something that helped me avoid danger would be beneficial.”

“What about you? What did you pick?" Frank asked.

“I decided on Ranger. It made sense with wilderness survival skills and bow mastery being what they are, I replied. I picked up a spiked growth spell and the ability to see in the dark better.”

“Oh really? Frank asked, "Are you able to see clearly in this pitch black?"

“Yeah, it’s like watching an old black and white movie. Everything is in black and white. It's weird getting used to it, but it’s an improvement. And I’m sure it’ll be even better when we're outside in the moonlight.”

“Not bad." Frank said. Are we ready to get moving now?"

"We just have one more thing to do and then we’ll be ready to leave," I replied. Most of my gear was taken from my safe. I’m assuming Denise and Chad. However, I need to check the garage and see if my bows are there.”

Walking into the garage, I could see that it had also been scoured, but it didn't appear to be too bad. My garage was normally a mess with boxes and junk, so it would be really difficult to dig through unless you wanted to spend time pulling everything out. Looking over to one of the corners, I was pleased to see that one of my cabinets hadn’t been reached yet. Pushing a few piles out of the way, I accessed the cabinet. I was relieved to discover my recurve bow and compound bow were still there. In addition, I found a couple dozen arrows for each in separate quivers. Picking up the recurve bow, I received the following notification:

-You have found a high quality hybrid bow, rarity is rare. It has 25-30 piercing damage, and is damage resistant.

I was ecstatic. This bow was made by my father when he was in college. It was handmade and had an alder handle and riser section with fiberglass limbs laminated onto the risers. My dad had never strung the bow, but when I got a hold of it I had a string made for it. The shop owner of the archery shop I frequented wasn’t comfortable stringing the bow as it had been years since it was built.

I, however, took steps to make sure the bow was sound before stringing it. I lightly re-sanded the bow, then put a thick coat of hardening polyurethane on the bow. Once it was cured and hardened, I backed the bow with diamondback rattler hide and epoxy resin.

One big difference with this recurve bow than most others, is the sheer length of the bow. Unstrung, it stood almost as tall as I was and the limbs were at least two inches wide. Once everything was finished and the bow was strung, it had the perfect draw length of thirty inches. It also had a draw weight of sixty pounds. The moment I saw my bow mastery skills, I knew this would be the bow I would use as my main weapon. With my increased strength attributes, I would never tire of drawing it back.

Collecting the compound bow and the two quivers, I headed back in the house to Frank. I got notification of finding a good quality compound bow but dismissed it as I wouldn’t use that one, even though the bow was tricked out with fiber optic sites, a drop away arrow rest and a short, weighted compensator on the front. By far this would be the more accurate bow to shoot, but that matters little in the long run to me. Entering the living room, I handed the compound bow to Frank. “Here Frank, I believe this is more your speed. I know you have one at home but mine's better and more tricked out. I’m sticking with my snake bow.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Frank accepted the bow and quiver and we made for the van with Dog leading the way. Opening the side door again, Dog jumped in without being told. With my night vision improved, I once again took the wheel. This time we used back roads and skirted the edge of town. Because of my night vision, I could drive without the headlights on. This made it easier to traverse the streets without drawing too much attention to ourselves.

When we got to Chad’s house, I clicked the mic three more times and waited for a response. Not getting none, I turned the van around and parked a couple houses down from the house and shut the engine off. “What now?" Frank asked.

“Now we wait." I’m sure someone is manning the radio and will click the mic at the top of the hour. I don’t want to walk up and knock on the door. There's a good chance you'll get some buckshot in response.”

We didn’t have to wait long. Probably only another fifteen minutes until I heard it. Three slow mic clicks. I clicked the mic three times in response. “Identify” a male voice responded. A bit of stress fell off my shoulders as I knew it was Chad’s voice. I knew Chad had visited my house to pick up my wife and kids.

“Red Rover, over.” Was my predetermined response.

“Copy Red Rover, where are you coming from? Over."

“Poughkeepsie,” was my second predetermined response. Poughkeepsie was the passphrase used in the TV series Supernatural. This was one of the shows I, my wife and step-daughter loved to watch together. For our family, Poughkeepsie meant things were okay. If I was in danger or coming in hot, I would’ve used the code “DC”. Cause honestly, who’s in more trouble than the political nightmare that is Washington DC?

“Red Rover, Red Rover, get your ass on over… Over” was Chad's joyful response.

“Copy that. Is there room on the side? We're rolling in.”

“Sure is," Chad said.

“ETA two minutes.” I said,

“Copy that, see you in two.” Chad replied.

I fired up the van and crept forward. When the side gate to the yard opened up, I quickly pulled the van in and shut the engine down. I exited the driver’s side door, not wanting to let Dog out yet. I wasn’t sure how he would react to my mother-in-law's many small dogs. I was greeted by Chad coming around the van after shutting the gate. We embraced in a hug as I asked, “I know you were at the house, tell me you got my wife and kids."

"You know I did," he replied. "She may be your wife but she’s still my daughter and still my responsibility, no matter how old she gets. And so are those kids.”

“Thank you.” was all I could say.

“Nice van, where did you get that from?" Chad asked.

“Saw a couple of guys “aggressively negotiating” with a woman in an alley on the other side of town. Let’s just say they didn’t need the van anymore thanks to Frank and I,” I pointed at Frank. You remember my stepdad?

"Sure, I do.” Chad said as he shook Frank’s hand. “Welcome.” He then turned back to me, “the kids are all asleep in the back bedroom but your wife is up. We didn’t know where Alex was.”

“He was supposed to go to my mom’s house the morning this all started. I’m sure he’s still there. Is your truck functional, that’s our next stop.”

“My work truck and Mamo’s car aren't working, but my old truck in the garage still runs.” Chad said.

“Good, I need to borrow it to check on my mom and Alex then I’m coming back here. I’m planning to leave the van with Frank as I’m sure their vehicles won't run.”

“Not a problem, Chad said. Now let’s get inside. You know who is waiting for you. I wouldn’t let her leave the house. Too dangerous.”

I didn’t hesitate a moment longer. I entered through the garage and into the kitchen. On the other side of the kitchen stood the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. My wife, Denise, stood there shaking, unable to say anything. She covered her mouth with both hands and cried. I rushed over and took her up in my arms and held her to my chest, unable to hold back tears anymore. For a few moments, no one said anything. I was the first to break the silence. “Honey I’m home, but I forgot the milk,” I said with an apologetic look on my face. Denise turned her face up towards mine, and for a short while looked at me emotionless. This time it was her that broke the silence as she couldn’t contain it.

She cracked a smile and said “at least it didn’t take you fifteen years to get here.” At this we both laughed. The kids always joked about me when I told them I'd be back. When I went to the store, one of the kids, usually Jace, would yell “NO Dad, please don’t go.” It was a reference to a father saying he was running to the store to get milk and then not returning for fifteen years.

“The kids are still sleeping. Should I wake them up?" Denise asked.

“What time is it? I don’t have a watch and my cell phone isn't working.”

"Sure," she jokingly replied. "Blame it on the cell phone for not calling or texting for two whole days. It’s about 3 am.” She finished with a smirk. Luckily Chad had an old grandfather clock in his hallway that kept accurate time. I was sure it was because he had actually prepared for an EMP, unlike me.

The house was even dimly lit by solar powered yard pathway lights. Chad kept a box of them in his makeshift Faraday cage for this reason. They worked pretty well. Gave off enough light to see in the dark but not enough to be seen through dark window curtains. I wasn’t even sure where he learned that simple trick. I had never heard it mentioned in any prepper survivalist information I had read in the past. After Chad shared it with me, I definitely included it in my survival blog.

“No, let them sleep. I still need to check on my mom and Alex. Then I’ll be back. No need to wake them up to have me leave again. I figure there’s about two and a half hours of darkness left before the sun rises. We’ll be less of a target if we leave now. I would like to get washed up and change my clothes. This is probably a stupid question but do you have my gear from the safe?”

“Of course I do, Denise responded. I’ve been married to you for some time and knew what you’d want. And after this long, I don’t even understand why you ask that question. You should just know.”

“Oh I do," I said. I just like to hear you explain how you understand me so well and know what I need before I do because you absolutely love me so much.”

“It’s sass right? You’re sassing me,” Denise quipped.

"Well, you know how it is, we have to keep the spice in our relationship," I chuckled. I then pulled her closer and kissed her deeply.