4: The Other Guys

The hot water of the shower was a blessing as I scrubbed the bug guts from my body.

I had asked Nat if she had wanted to shower first and she had given me a sullen look.

“Can’t afford to,” she admitted. “Being covered in the blood of my enemies gives me a stat boost.”

While I didn’t envy her predicament it got me thinking. I focused on the stats in the corner of my screen and brought up my Status window.

Zade Russo

Hunter Rank: H

Class: Sand Mage

Skills Learned: None

Strength: 5

Agility: 5

Magic: 6

Wisdom: 0

Unused skill points: 1

Good, so I had been correct in my assumption that killing enemies gave me skill points. The memory of the Hive Lord smashing through the glass brandishing a spear gleaming with lethal purple light flashed through my mind.

So If I got points for killing enemies, what would the system give me for slaying him?

“He’s like a mini-boss,” I muttered as I rinsed my head.

“What?” Nat called from the room. I grimaced.

“Nothing, talking to myself.”

I eyed my stats and took a moment to consider. I liked the idea of putting the point into strength, but given that I’d chosen Mage as a class, it made more sense to level magic first and strength later.

I sighed, and not for the first time I wondered if I had made the wrong decision. Well, there was nothing for it now. I was a Sand Mage, and I was going to have to make it work. I placed my stat in magic and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel from the wall and wrapping it around my waist.

The bathroom was too small to change in so I stepped back into the bedroom to pull on a clean t-shirt.

Nat glanced at me and her eyes fell to the scars clearly visible on my chest. Her cheeks went pink and she glanced away, fidgeting with her cleaver.

I turned away to pull on my underwear and joggers and that’s when the question came.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to stare earlier it’s just.. you have a lot of scars. Heart surgery?”

I gave her a calculating look as I tugged my hoodie over my head.

“Family business.”

Her throat bobbed and she looked down again. I grabbed my spear from the wall and nodded towards the door.

“Listen,” I said, pausing with my hand halfway to the nob.

“If you’re going to give me the whole speech about me not having to get involved if I don’t want to, save it.”

She stood and cut her cleaver through the air, brown eyes intense.

“I want to make it off this ship alive. I have a family to go back to.”

The family. The word had a different meaning where I was from – a much bloodier legacy. I didn’t say so. Instead, I just grunted and pulled open the door.

The hallway was silent, made eerier by the dead bodies of the creatures we had killed now lying in a pool of blue blood. We paused for a moment, listening for any sounds of danger. When none came I crossed to the elevator and jabbed the button.

When nothing happened I frowned and pressed it again. That’s when I noticed that the display above the elevator doors was out. Shit, the elevator was down.

“I guess it’s the stairs then,” I said. “Just when I thought I’d escaped cardio.”

We moved to the stairs and I opened the door slowly, glancing up and down to make sure no enemies lurked nearby. There were bodies lining the steps, and many looked fresh. A couple wearing pajamas had died where they stood, still holding hands.

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“Who wears pajamas 2 pm on a Tuesday?” I muttered and Nat shot me a look.

“Sorry, sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

The further we climbed the more apparent the scale of the slaughter became. There were dead people everywhere, and the ratio of human bodies vs Hive warriors made my stomach knot.

None of these people had been armed or prepared to fight for their lives today. It had been a slaughter, plain and simple. And the thought made my blood boil.

“Bastards,” hissed Nat as we passed the corpse of a child fetched up in the corner. She lay in a pool of blood clutching a teddy bear. There was murder in the Berserker’s eyes and nodded my approval.

“We’ll pay the fuckers back,” I said. “But remember the plan. If we want to survive for now then we need the numbers. Nat looked like she might argue but a sound from up above had me throwing out a hand.

The door above us burst open. The sound of heavy footfalls on the steps had me raising my spear, ready to stab the first bug I saw.

“Jesus Christ!” a man carrying a sword and shield nearly slipped down the steps when he saw me. His eyes were wide, and sweat beaded on his forehead as he looked us over.

“You’re survivors,” he said. “Shit I didn’t think any others had made it. I’m Rob, by the way.”

“Zade. And this is Natalia,” I reached out a hand and Rob stuck his sword under his arm so that he could shake.

His shoulders slumped and I noticed for the first time that he was wearing a crisp button-down and a pair of slacks.

“Are you a lawyer?” I asked him, gesturing to his get up.

“Accountant,” he said. “Or at least I was before,” he gestured around at the bodies piled in the stairwell. “Is this hell, do you think? Are we being punished?”

“I don’t know,” I confessed. “But either way I plan to take as many of the bastards with me as I can before I go. What level are you?”

“Three. And you?”

“Two.” Nat and I answered at the same time. Rob nodded and adjusted his glasses on his nose. He wasn’t an imposing guy, Rob. But by the blood splattered on his shirt and the fact that he wasn’t among the dead might make him an asset.

I glanced at Nat and she nodded, clearly understanding my intention.

“We got room for another,” I said. “Want to form a party?”

***

“They just. Won’t. Fucking. Die.” I punctuated each word with a stomp to the head of the dog-sized crab creature that had attacked us. It was the sixth of the bastards we’ve seen, and damn were they resilient.

Ding!

You have slain Hive Spiderling

Finally, the head of the creature burst under my foot, leaking blue blood across the carpets of the mid-level of the ship.

Rob wiped the sweat from his forehead and flicked the blue blood from his blade.

“Their scouts most likely,” he said. “Or at least that’s my best guess. Though if we keep killing them something bigger and much more dangerous is bound to show up.”

“You can come out now,” I called to the people now cowering behind the desk of the buffet. After a moment one poked their head up. It was a woman, and she was carrying a crossbow. I eyed the bolt pointed at my chest.

“Seriously? How the hell are some of you getting weapons?”

“They spawned in for us when we chose our classes.” A skinny guy with long greasy hair said from behind the counter. He stood and rolled his eyes at the woman with the bow.

“Seriously? There is caution, and then there is paranoia. They just saved us from the killer bugs not two seconds ago. If they meant us to harm they would have watched us get slaughtered from the sidelines.”

The woman gave him an irritated look but lowered her crossbow. With an arrow no longer pointed at my chest I stepped forward.

“I’m Zade Russo,” I said. “I’m a Sand Mage.”

“Sand Mage huh?” the guy whistled. “I didn’t know there was an affinity for sand. Garret here got water as his affinity.”

Another head popped up from behind the counter, and a middle-aged guy with spikey hair waved a hand, looking awkward.

“I’m Jack, and this is-“

“I can introduce myself.“ The buff woman stepped forward and thrust out a hand.

“Names Pamela Oakland, but you can call me Pam.”

I arched a brow at her accent, grinning.

“You from New York?” I asked and her brows lifted in surprise.

“That’s right. NYPD, three years retired.. or at least I was.”

“So it was your bullets I was dodging?”

Her lips twitched and I took that as a good sign. The buffet area was filled with food but from what I could see the staff had mostly vacated the place – likely chased off during the invasion. The floor was mostly laminated deck, and there was only one way in and out aside from the kitchen area.

“Not a bad place to make a stand,” I said, glancing around.

“There were more of us,” Pam frowned toward a set of tables and I saw several bodies draped across them.

“But these damn bugs.. not only are they hard to kill but there is no end to them. If I had a gun..”

I scratched my chin, thinking.

“That’s one idea,” I said. If we can find the Captain or the First Mate maybe we can put out a signal or radio for help. The Coast Guard maybe? Or the Navy?”

Jack rose from where he squatted examining one of the spiderling corpses.

“Easier said than done. Last I heard the Captain and half the crew locked themselves in the VIP suites with all the other rich assholes.”

Nat and I exchanged a look. That was good information, but I didn’t have a good enough read on the newcomers to show my hand just yet. I settled for a grunt and a shrug.

My mana had increased some, though not enough to fill more than two-thirds of the indicator. Damn, If I wanted to use magic consistently then I’d need to find a way to increase mana regeneration.

“You know of any other survivors?” I asked gesturing to the doors. “Higher numbers mean a higher chance of survival if we can organize and try to stay alive.”

Pam considered this, her brows drawing together.

“A guy passed through here not long ago, but he wasn’t exactly friendly. He didn’t seem keen to answer our questions and there was something about him that.. didn’t sit right with me.”

I grunted.

“Did he have a blonde buzzcut and an upside-down raven tattoo?”

Pam’s brows lifted in surprise.

“You know him?”

“Not personally,” I muttered. “But I know of him.”

Pam and the others stared at me expectantly. I blinked.

“What? I’m no nark.”

Pam rolled her eyes.

“I’m retired remember?”

I was saved a response by a sound that made us all jump. It was deep and long, somewhere between an alarm and a horn. By the reactions in the room, I could tell we’d all heard it. When the sound finally faded we were left staring at each other, wide-eyed.

“What was-“ Nat started, but she never got to finish her sentence.

At the corner of my vision, a small red text box unfolded. On it was a timer countdown.

Calamity Event Countdown initiated: 1hr 36m

Event Level: Catastrophic.

There was a long tense silence.

“Well,” I said, snatching up a glass on the buffet and pouring myself a beer. “That can’t be good.”