With their new targets having vanished, the undead shuffled back to their original positions, clawing at the two doors of the church.

Gary was dumbstruck.

Did I just hallucinate all of that?

The arrows in the bodies of the fallen undead confirmed it had all just happened.

Gary walked to where the circle had been, but there was nothing there.

“Uh, hello?” he called.

There was no response.

He walked across the space where the glowing circle had been. Nothing happened except for him experiencing a sense of unease. It was a feeling that he shouldn’t be here. It originated from the same gut area as his cravings to eat living flesh. Nothing overpowering, nothing he couldn’t stop from influencing his behaviour, but there. As soon as he stepped away from where the circle had been, the feeling vanished.

Gary hefted his shovel, unsure what to make of the sudden flurry of events.

He looked back at the church, where the undead horde had returned.

“I guess I just... carry on what I was doing?” he mused aloud.

He glanced back at the area where the circle had been.

A woman’s face appeared in mid-air.

Gary yelped at the sudden apparition and took a couple of steps back. The black-haired woman raised an eyebrow at him, then appeared in full. Clad in black, with two vicious knives in sheaths on either side of her hips, Gary realised this was Rain. He realised her face was a dark blue shade, something he hadn’t observed earlier.

“Uh, hello?” He said. He lifted his shovel in a defensive posture. “I’m not a zombie! Please don’t kill me.”

Gary felt foolish holding the shovel. He’d seen Rain in action. If she wanted to kill him, there was nothing he could do about it.

The woman glanced at him and said nothing. She pulled out a palm-sized ochre crystal from her pocket and moved it around in a semi-circular gesture. As it got closer to Gary, it glowed red. She took a couple of steps towards Gary, and the glow became stronger.

“Huh,” she said, “It’s you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. I need you to turn around now.”

“What? Why?”

She rolled her eyes.

“Never mind.”

Moving with impossible speed, she was behind Gary. He didn’t see or hear the knife get drawn. He felt the pommel, though, as it cracked down on the back of his head.

Gary blacked out.

*

Gary came to some time later, the sound of voices bringing him back to consciousness.

“Okay, try the coin generator glitch.”

“I already tried that.”

“Well, try it again.”

“It doesn’t work. That one was patched years ago.”

“Okay, weapons supply glitch. Let’s give that one a go.”

Gary opened his eyes.

He was lying on a bed in a marquee style tent which was large enough to accommodate all four of the strange people he’d seen earlier. There were several beds in the space, along with a table upon which there were various maps and scrolls. A bookshelf against one of the tent’s walls contained some old books.

Not too far from him, he saw the ‘package’ that Forge had been carrying. This close, it was obvious that it was a tied up person. The occasional growl and snarl came from the figure as it attempted to wriggle free from the ropes that bound it. The figure was covered from head to toe in cloth, but Gary guessed that if he could see the figure’s face, he’d be looking at one of the undead.

He turned his attention to Morgan, Forge and Annabel. Forge was reading from a small notebook from which he called out suggestions.

A short sword appeared in Morgan’s hand, spirited from nowhere. He threw it to the ground and returned his hand to its former sword holding pose. It was as if he was expecting another one to appear in place of the first one. Nothing happened, however.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

He tried three more times before shrugging.

“Nope, that one’s dead as well.”

Forge swore.

“Let’s try the stashing the dead, that was a good one.”

Annabel nodded, walked over to where the wrapped up body was wriggling, and touched it. Nothing happened.

“God’s sakes,” Forge swore again.

Gary was lying on his side, tied and bound. He felt something cold and sharp press against his neck.

“Don’t move.”

He looked upwards as best he could and saw Rain sitting just behind him. Even though he hadn’t made a sound, she’d known he was awake.

Forge sat down on one of the wooden chairs and took off his shoulder plates, throwing them onto the table with anger.

“Completely pointless trip. A perfectly useless class zero reality. It’s not even like there’s going to be anything worth salvaging here.”

“We’re sure it’s a Class zero?” Morgan asked.

Forge jerked his thumb at the table where Gary’s mobile phone had been placed. They must have rifled through his pockets whilst he was out cold.

“Look at it. Electric communication devices. Those fuel driven vehicles outside. Probably using scientific power sources. I bet they’ve even got big metal tubes in the sky to get from place to place. Total backwater.”

“Which just leaves us with that,” Annabel said, waving toward Gary.

“It’s awake,” Rain spoke behind Gary. She tapped a knife on his cheek. “Up.”

Gary struggled into a sitting position. They had bound his legs and feet, leaving him helpless.

“Well, what’s so special about him?”

“He was carrying this shovel,” Rain said, throwing Simon into Morgan’s grip. “Maybe that’s got some special properties?”

Morgan muttered a couple of words, and his blue eyes glowed for a second.

“Nothing I can see. It’s just a shovel.”

“Try equipping it and un-equipping it and throwing it to the ground. Maybe its got the weapon supply glitch on it.”

“I don’t see what use that is going to be, an infinite number of shovels.”

“Just do it.”

Morgan shrugged. Gary’s shovel blinked out of sight and then blinked back into sight. Morgan threw it to the ground and placed his hand out, as if waiting for another shovel to appear.

Another shovel did not appear.

This is insane, Gary thought.

“This is insane!” Gary said.

“Huh, you were right. It talks,” Forge said, looking at Gary with a flicker of interest.

“And the glitch stone glows when its near him,” Annabel nodded. “He’s the source.”

“Would somebody mind telling me what the hell you are all talking about? What is going on here? And let me out of these ropes! And... and give me my shovel back!”

Forge guffawed. “It talks, and it’s funny. Not bad for a level 1 zombie.”

“I suppose we could... keep it as a pet?” Annabel held up her palms.

“I...” Gary said through gritted teeth, “AM. NOT. A. ZOMBIE!”

A dawning comprehension crossed the faces of the red-haired warrior, the grey garbed rogue and the white and gold clad cleric. Gary assumed the same look had crossed the face of the black haired assassin behind him, but he couldn’t see her.

“Wait, you mean you’re alive? You’re not dead?”

“YES!” Gary shouted in frustration “Although it’s been touch and go a couple of times over the last few hours.”

He felt frustrated and confused. He’d pieced through some of the garbled nonsense that the group had been talking about earlier. But all that had done was leave him with more questions. And there was a more pressing matter at hand.

“How long was I unconscious for?”

“About half an hour,” Morgan said.

“Dammit. Look, I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing here. I don’t even know where I am right now, but where I was, there were some people trapped in a church and I was trying to help them. I’m afraid that if I don’t do something, they’ll all get killed.”

“You were trying to help them?” Morgan asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, I was killing the undead one by one. They don’t bother me, at least the level ones don’t. I was clearing them out from the church grounds so the people inside could get out. I’m afraid that the longer I wait, the more chance there is those inside will get killed.”

Forge scratched at his red hair.

“Wait, what have you been killing the undead with?”

“Well... I mean, that. My shovel.”

The tent went deadly silent for a second.

And then all four of the other occupants burst out laughing.

Forge put his head on the table and slammed his fist, roaring with laughter. Morgan doubled up as he howled with pain. Annabel covered her face as she let out huge belly laughs. The black garbed assassin’s shoulders jumped up and down as she laughed through her nose, shaking her head from side to side.

“You...you’ve been killing the undead with a shovel?” Forge gasped, “how many did you kill?”

“About a hundred,” Gary said, scowling.

“A hundred?” Morgan exclaimed. Gary had assumed that his high count would stifle their laughter. Instead, it just made it worse.

“How long did it take you? A hundred?” Annabel asked, with an attempt at sobriety between laughs.

“About three hours,” Gary muttered.

More howls of laughter.

“Well, it was all I had to fight with!” Gary shot back.

It didn’t matter. Anything he said just seemed to make the laughter worse.

“A shovel. A damned shovel. Genius,” Forge finished, wiping tears from his eyes.

Morgan noticed the sour expression on Gary’s face. “Ah, look, don’t take this personally. We’ve had a trying few weeks and I can’t remember the last time we all laughed together like that.”

Gary shrugged, opting to let it go. “It’s fine. I can see the funny side, I guess.”

It wasn’t much fun having all of his hard work over the last few hours turned into someone else’s punchline. Sometimes you just have to take these things on the chin, though. It was pointless alienating these people. Firstly, they had him tied up, and secondly, they knew a lot about what was going on. Finally, the sheer power they had displayed earlier was something that Gary could use if he could get the group on side. Clearing out the undead would be easy with their weapons and abilities.

“Morgan speaks the truth. Which is unusual for him. Rain, cut him loose, he’s no threat. What’s your name, lad?”

“Gary.”

“Explain how this happened. You’re alive, but you’re reading as a zombie. It makes no sense.”

Gary considered his next words.

“When it all happened, the black rain, you know…?”

The group nodded. They understood what he was talking about.

“Well, at the time, I was digging a grave in the cemetery. Then this necromancer appeared and cast a spell. I think it was called Rise from your Graves. And I was in a grave, which which is why….”

He made a grandiose gesture at the shovel. He knew it would set them off again, and it did.

Gary had calculated that the more the group liked him, the more they were likely to help him. If it meant taking a few digs for being equipped with a shovel, that was fine.

Even as he was grinning at everyone else’s renewed laughter, he thought:

You know what, screw you guys. I like the shovel.

Instead of saying that, he waited until the laughter had died down for a second time.

“Okay, now can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?”

The other four looked at each other. Forge shrugged.

“Pull up a chair. We need some recuperation time, anyway.”