When Logan grew closer to Jack’s, he again came across Matt who was grinning as he scanned his surroundings, holding the spear gun out like a bow at the pine trees around him. As Logan approached, he swivelled, pointing the gun directly at Logan’s chest.

Logan raised his hands, letting his bat dangle loosely.

“Oh, it’s you,” said Matt with a dissatisfied tone as he lowered the gun. He was still wearing the same resort uniform shirt from yesterday. It had a tear in the collar and a smear of blood on the left sleeve.

Logan swung his bat back over his shoulder. “Where is everyone?”

“They’re inside watching the news. I left when that chick with the hoodie started crying. They need to toughen up if they’re going to survive.”

In a way, Logan was glad Matt was alone. It made it easier to lie. “I hear you. Hey man, I’m about to head out to the lake and try my hand at fishing. Remember I have that skill that lets me breathe underwater? Can I try your spear gun and see if I can catch supper?”

Matt’s mouth flattened.

“You can come with me, but you’ll have to swim underwater. Can you do that?”

His frown became more pronounced. He hesitated, his hand tightening on the handle of the spear gun. “You’ll give it back after?”

“Sure. Of course. It’s your weapon. I’ll just be borrowing it for the day.”

Matt handed it over with a scowl. “One day only.”

Logan let out a silent breath in relief. If Matt had refused, it would have gone in a direction Logan wanted to avoid. After all, this was speculation. For all he knew, Matt could just be a teenager going through an apocalypse and acting out because of it. Male teenagers Matt’s age were terrors even without the mutated monsters, undead minions, and deaths.

Still, Logan didn’t want to take that chance. He wouldn’t be around to prevent Matt from going off the rails, so at least he could take his weapon. Whether he got up to no good while Logan was away was out of his control. He could only hope for the best.

“You know it. And hey, if you wanted to try fishing the traditional way, there’s a fishing rod in the supply room. It used to be my grandpa’s. I’m no good at it, but you look like you’d have a steady hand.”

Matt’s scowl deepened.

***

Logan didn’t like lying to anyone, but if a small lie prevented needless murder, then he figured he was in the moral right. By taking the spear gun, he’d achieved two goals. It would give him the chance to try fishing underwater on the trip, and he’d also removed it from Matt’s budding serial-killer hands.

Logan found the rest of the group in front of the TV in the living room. Just like Matt said, there was a palpable tension to the room. The girl with the hoodie was rocking back and forth on the armchair, tears pouring down her face. Tasha was scowling, her hands on her hips as she stood facing the TV. The others had blank faces as they watched the news broadcast, a chyron stating MILLIONS DEAD AS A RESULT OF THE LATEST SYSTEM PURGE.

The microwave beeped from the kitchen and Logan swore he could smell popcorn. He must be hungrier than he thought. That’s what living on tomatoes and green beans did to you.

“You’re back! Good,” said Jack as he strode into the room, hands clutching a huge bowl.

Logan’s nose hadn’t been playing tricks on him. That was popcorn.

“Look what I found! It was at the back of mom’s kitchen cupboard.” Jack lowered his voice. “We still have two packages left, but don’t tell anyone. I’m keeping it for special occasions.” He plopped the bowl down on the coffee table and addressed the group. “We should enjoy ourselves while watching the civilized world come to an end, no?”

Once people were in Jack’s immediate sphere, he seemed to at least care—care in whatever emotional capacity he had left after the death of his family. Rather than acting with apathy, Jack’s emotions had seemed to take a swing to sarcasm and defeatism.

Logan would take it. As long as Jack protected everyone, off color jokes were the least of his worries.

Tasha rolled her eyes. “That’s morbid.”

Jack shrugged. “The world is morbid.”

Tasha reached for a handful of popcorn. Sammy followed, his sleeve raising to expose his arm tattoo as he scooped up a fistful, but the others were too focused on the TV, expressions numb. The wealthy elderly lady shot the popcorn a look of distaste, but Logan suspected it wasn’t that she wasn’t hungry; she was displeased they were eating it in the first place.

“How bad is it?” Logan gestured to the TV.

Jack swallowed a mouthful of popcorn. “As bad as you can expect with those crazy buggers at the helm. Whoever that is. See, I figure it has to be more than one, right? The System can’t just be one person—who has that much power?”

Sammy finished stuffing his face with popcorn, then returned to holding Sam’s hand. She was watching the TV with wide eyes and didn’t seem aware of anything happening around her.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Jack took another helping. “They’re surprised there aren’t more casualties,” he said, after swallowing. “When the large underground natural gas lines went, buildings caved in. Earthquakes on top of explosions.”

“We’re doomed,” said the wealthy lady glumly. “We’ll never get back home now.”

That’s right, they were tourists. Stranded, far away from home? Logan didn’t blame her for being upset.

Tasha pulled out her phone and then scowled at it. “I wish the internet would work. How can both the Wi-Fi and data be down at the same time?”

Logan’s eyes kept drifting to the popcorn. He finally gave in, taking a handful. Fuck, that was good. Salty and buttery, everything he’d missed. All he needed was a cold beer to wash it down. Still, he was cognizant that the combination of morbidity and feasting was absurd. How was this his life? Eating popcorn while watching a newscast about the murder of millions. Millions. At the same time, he wasn’t going to not partake. If he did refrain, when could he start? They had a year of struggle left; a year of fighting monsters, fighting people.

And at the end of all of that, there was no guarantee he’d survive.

Hell yes he was having popcorn.

A handful of popcorn was the least of his worries.

“If it starts working, take advantage while you can,” said Logan. “We might have trouble with calls soon. This area doesn’t have natural gas power plants, but they’re big in the US. Even if we still have power here, who’s to say what the System takes out tomorrow?”

The girl in the hoodie made a wounded noise and huddled further into the chair.

Logan cleared his throat and tried to get everyone’s attention. Although he wanted to finish the whole bowl of popcorn, he needed to get moving. Plus, he wasn’t that selfish. “I need to tell everyone something.”

Jack and Tasha’s attention gradually went from the TV to Logan, the others glancing at him with blank faces.

“It’s time for me to leave.”

Those blank faces were suddenly full of alarm.

“What?”

“No, you can’t leave!”

“You’re the only thing keeping the monsters away!”

They all spoke at once. Logan gave them a gentle smile. “I’ll be back. By now, I think everyone knows I have a sister and two nieces in Hope’s End. They need me. I’m going after them. I’ll take a boat, paddle down. It’ll take a week to get there, a week to get back. Two weeks in total. Jack and Tasha can hold down the fort until I return.”

Tasha gave him a worried frown. “You shouldn’t go on your own. You need someone to watch your back.”

Logan couldn’t hold back a smile. “Tasha, use [Identify] on me.”

“I know you’re stronger than me.”

“Still, give me a scan.”

Tasha scowled but then got a focused look, her eyes looking far away as if she were reading something to the side. It took a second, but then she gasped in outrage. “Level 13! How did you advance three levels in a morning? Jerk!”

The others murmured amongst themselves, giving him wide-eyed looks.

Now Logan felt awkward. “It kind of just happened,” he said, scratching his neck and avoiding everyone’s eyes. He gave Tasha a sheepish glance. “Anyway, I’m ten levels higher than you. I appreciate the thought, but I’d be looking after you, not the other way around.”

Logan gave everyone what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Trust in Jack, trust in Tasha. The beans in the greenhouse will keep growing; you’ll have lots of food. I’ll be fishing on the way back, so I might even return with a feast.”

Logan nodded to Jack and Tasha, gesturing them to the side. When they were out of earshot of the others, he murmured, “I took the spear gun from Matt. He thinks I only took it for the day. He won’t be happy when he returns and I’m gone. Watch him. Watch him with your life.”

***

Logan spent a few more minutes stuffing everything he could think of into his spatial collar, including essentials like a razor. He didn’t want to meet Lara and the kids looking like a mountain man wearing kitten-patterned swim trunks.

Taking one last look at Jack’s property, he left, travelling on the shoreline, hoping to get lucky at the next neighbor’s property. That was a big if. Logan’s cabin had been the black sheep of the area. Everyone else who owned property here was wealthy, speedboat wealthy. He was hoping for property owners who had recreational canoes or motor-less boats.

That left the other problem. What if there were people in these properties? They might not take kindly to the theft of a boat, even if he was technically borrowing it.

It took about ten minutes, but Logan finally came across the next property. He didn’t recall meeting these neighbors.

They had a large black chain-linked fence dividing it from Jack’s, a professional looking PRIVATE PROPERTY sign out front on top of a fancy gate. It was locked, and at first Logan was stumped on how to get across, but then he remembered that the normal laws of physics no longer applied. His agility attribute was at 17.

Logan used the hand with the still tingling burns to brace himself, then jumped, lifting himself over the gate.

Grinning, he gave the fence one last look and then moved further into the property.

Talk about upper class.

Over an acre of manicured grass, exotic looking plants, a limestone fountain—who were these people? Their monthly water-bill in this 100-degree weather must be more than his rent.

There were multiple buildings, all built in the Spanish style—clay barrel tile roofs. Logan didn’t see any signs of the occupants—the curtains were closed, and even though it was daylight, he should still be able to see light. Unless they didn’t have electricity, or the System had damaged the building with the latest purge.

He kept a wary eye on the windows and then approached the beach, scanning the dock for any anchored boats.

Nothing.

They did have a supply shed next to the beach though; a large, narrow structure with the same clay barrel tile roof.

Logan tried the door, but it was locked. However, it wasn’t a padlock, only a flimsy shed door. With his increased strength, he should be able to just tug it open and break the lock.

Logan forced it open, and he was met with a damp, chlorine-like smell as if they stored pool equipment inside the building. Shelves held inflated tubes and chairs, pool noodles, even scuba masks. And on the floor of the building, right in the center, was a canoe, two kayaks stacked on either side of it.

Jackpot!

Damn, that was easier than he thought. Logan had assumed he’d be looking for a boat for the entire day if he found anything at all. With this discovery, he could start paddling to Hope’s End right away; maybe even get there in six days rather than seven.

Too bad he couldn’t take both the canoe and the kayaks for back up, but…

Wait a minute.

Logan was still thinking like pre-System Logan. He had an unlimited storage device around his neck. Why couldn’t he take them all? That way, if one sprung a leak, or if the girls preferred to paddle in their own boat, he’d be ready.

The shed even had a scuba mask, which made trying his [Deepwater Idiot] skill more appealing. Logan willed the two kayaks into his spatial collar, then grabbed lifejackets, extra paddles, the scuba mask, and hell—even a few inflatable noodles for the kids.

Dragging the canoe out of the shed and onto the water was nothing against his strength attribute, and he soon had a boat ready to go. It was a large canoe, but it would be tight with four people.

Logan rested his baseball bat on one of the seats and got ready to get into the canoe, swinging one leg over—

A shotgun cocked behind him.