Each student will be required to spend one hour per day per attribute, with an additional hour of general education. After the completion of the sophomore year, students have the option to replace two of the hours of attribute training with additional hours of an attribute of their choice, or select from a list of optional areas of specialized study. For graduation to the next year, each student must have increased each Number by at least seven, and have increased their sum total of Numbers by at least seventy. Our goal is for at least ninety percent of graduating seniors to have the sum total of their Numbers above one thousand -- high enough to meet the minimum application requirements for most ivy league universities.
- Clayton Northern Academy curriculum outline
We leave the cabin early the next morning. I’m pushing the recovered wheelbarrow in front of me, while each of the other three have loaded backpacks on their backs. While most of their things had not been recovered from the bus or cabin, each of them had grabbed their own personal bags. Originally filled with pens, pencils, and notebooks, they’ve now been replaced with sheets, blankets, and other miscellaneous supplies looted from the second cabin.
I felt a tad guilty looting the cabin, but only for a second. As much as I don’t want to get into a habit of casual theft and disregard of the law, our first priority is to reach a place where laws can even be enforced.
In our free time over the last few days, each of us has been training to increase our Numbers. Even Melete, who spent most of her time training her skill instead, didn’t completely neglect Numbers training.
The rest of us went through many of the normal training drills we perform every day at school, although our inability to perform the drills to the same level that we had been doing them only a week prior makes the exercises feel surreal. I thought I’d outgrown doing push-ups only twenty at a time years ago, but now I’m left shaking and gasping after only fifteen.
Our rate of growth, however, is insane. In just three days, I gained about as much as I’d normally gain in six months, primarily in dexterity, wisdom, and intelligence. It’s clear that the old rule of Numbers being harder to increase the higher they are still applies, which explains my slower rate of growth in strength. I’m the most surprised by my growth in Charisma -- my continued charade of leadership has grown that Number more than I ever thought was possible without making any attempt to tend to my physical appearance.
Even while training all the other skills, and especially while lazing about the cabin, I had also been practicing my Skill. Even as I carry the wheelbarrow, I’m constantly shifting the color of my skin under my clothes to every shade of the rainbow. The weight in my chest from activating and maintaining the Skill has become more and more bearable the more I practice. I’ve even been able to manage a few (extremely) minor physical shifts besides just color.
Yesterday, I managed to make the skin on the back of my hand rougher and then smoother at will. The effort left me gasping, and I had to rest for a few minutes afterwards, but the small success left me giddy, convinced that even more drastic achievements are possible with time and effort. If I’d had this skill trained up before fighting the first dog monster, it would have been possible to harden the skin on my forearm to the point that I wouldn’t have even felt it’s teeth chomping down. At least that’s my theory.
I’m still unsure why, but I’ve maintained my secrecy of the Skill from everyone else in our small group. It is fairly easy to do -- by changing the color of the skin where my tattoo of the skill is located, my right arm appears as it did before I ever killed the tree monster.
It is not as if I don’t trust my three classmates. Well, maybe it is. It’s just that I don’t know them. I’ve never been quick to make new friends -- as evidenced by my loner status months after coming to a new school -- but the recent apocalypse has made me even less quick to trust completely.
I’ll tell them when I’m ready.
As we hike along the road, my earlier apprehension from leaving the safety of the cabin starts to fade. When first hiking out in the early dawn light, each of us started out paranoid and careful beyond belief. I led the way with the wheelbarrow, with Melete and Styx to my left and right, and Pallas bringing up the rear. At every noise and rustle, we would stop, turn to face the direction of the noise and wait for any other signs of monsters before eventually continuing.
Once, a pine cone dropped into the center of our small diamond and almost caused us to scatter in panic. For the first thirty minutes of the hike, I was worried Styx would have a nervous breakdown. Her neck looked as if it might snap from how much it swivelled back and forth. I tried to give her an encouraging smile every few minutes, which seemed to help some -- I’m not sure who was more surprised that my strained smiles were helpful: me or her.
Despite attempting to maintain my vigilance and serious attitude, after a few hours it becomes difficult. The brisk morning breeze is the perfect temperature, the trees on either side of the road are swaying, the birds are chirping, the early morning sun is shining down, and all combined they serve to make our journey into danger seem relaxing. Melete even starts to hum to herself as she walks along.
The pessimistic part of me is constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, but as noon comes closer and each of us begins to sweat in the rising heat, I can’t help but enjoy the fresh air and movement after being cooped up in the cabin for a few days.
Just as the sun is reaching its zenith, we take a break in our hike to eat some lunch and rest in a small clearing next to the road. Unfortunately, all the food that could spoil in the cabin already did, which means we’re back to eating canned foods, sweetened by a single box of granola bars and a pack of jerky..
“How much further do you think we have to go?” Melete asks, for what seems like the thousandth time.
Styx sighs in exasperation and looks at me to respond, having already answered the question herself two times in the last hour.
“I don’t know,” I finally reply, “but if I had to guess, I’d say sometime tonight or maybe early tomorrow morning we’ll get to the small town we stopped at for a bathroom break on the way here. We drove for two hours or so before stopping at that gas station, which would be at least another day or two if we had to walk to get all the way back home. But once we get into town we should at least be able to track down a phone or catch a ride.”
Melete replies, “Hmm. So I guess if we only have to fight ten times before we get home, and each fight lasts an hour, we’ll be back in five days. One day to get to the gas station town, one day to fight and recover from the fights, and two days to hike the rest of the way back. Because of course there won’t be any working cars or phones in the nearby town -- that’d be ridiculous.”
“What’s the extra day for?” I ask, wondering exactly how her math works. I know she hasn’t been training her intelligence Number as much as the rest of us...but adding to five should still be easy.
“That’s the ‘unknown catastrophe’ day, of course. Eh, I guess one day may be too short for that -- let’s say it’ll be six days then.” Melete muses to herself, before taking a bite of granola bar and humming softly to herself.
Melete has been taking her job of predicting the worst case scenario extremely seriously. Which I appreciate -- I just wish she would sound less cheery as she announces her doomsday predictions to the rest of us.
I lay on my back in the grass under the trees and sigh. Closing my eyes, I enjoy the breeze and the occasional beam of sunlight that makes its way through the shifting leaves to land on my face. This position feels so similar to when I first lost my Numbers...only a week ago? It feels like it’s been months, if not years since everything first started. As the others finish eating, I can feel myself start to drift off before I am jerked back to alertness by Styx’s voice.
“Atlas.”
It isn’t my “name” which causes me to wake up so suddenly. Even after a few days, I am still a bit surprised to hear others call me by my new nickname. No, it’s not the word Styx uses. It’s her tone that sets me on edge.
I instantly open my eyes and attempt to sit up, only to feel Pallas’ hand on my chest. Looking at his face, I see him hold a single finger to his lips before motioning me up. Less frantic now, I carefully pull myself into a crouched position and look around.
Pallas is crouched over me, while Styx and Melete are staring up at the trees around us. I look up and at first glance don’t see anything out of the ordinary. After looking closer, I see a bird with mottled brown feathers perched in a branch above us. The bird is only about a foot long, larger than most everyday songbirds, not gigantic, but it’s eyes seem to burn within it’s sockets, almost glowing an eerie green color.
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Another monster. At least this one doesn’t seem too dangerous -- how much damage can a five pound bird do anyway?
But that’s when I notice more birds. Scattered among the surrounding branches, I see two more bird monsters. Then five. And then ten. Finally, I give up counting, and whisper quietly to my companions.
“How long have they been there?”
At my voice, every single bird in the group turns and looks at me, angling its head in the way birds do. The synchronicity of the entire flock, combined with the creepy stare, causes me to shiver.
Melete whispers back to me, at an even lower volume. “Not sure. Just noticed them thirty seconds ago. We were eating quietly when Pallas saw them.” In unison, the heads of the flock all turn to stare at Melete.
“What do we do?” Styx’s voice isn’t quite as quiet as mine or Melete, and there isn’t any trace of the hysteria I expected it to contain. Instead, there’s a hard edge to her statement, a slight trace of lurking violence beneath the voice.
Pallas and Melete stay silent, seemingly content to let me make the decision. I gather my thoughts for a few seconds, before replying. “We’ll try to walk away, if we can, but be ready to turtle up if they attack. We move slowly, grab our bags, but make sure we always have weapons in hand. Leave the food that’s out behind, maybe they’ll go for that instead.”
The three of them each give faint nods before starting to move. At our movement, the bird monsters hop in place on the branches, suddenly agitated.
“Slowly!” I hiss out through my teeth. As if moving through molasses, my three classmates shoulder their bags, as I inch towards the handles of the wheelbarrow. I have the spade in my front pocket, hopefully within easy reach -- unfortunately I need both hands to push the wheelbarrow. Pallas has the shovel clutched in both of his hands, held at the ready, his face as stoic as always as he moves to the back of our formation, edging his way sideways as he attempts to watch his feet and guard our backs at the same time. Styx is holding a large kitchen knife, with her fingers white-knuckled around the handle as she takes her place to my right and slightly behind. Melete has a smaller kitchen knife in each hand, and somehow she looks to be the most relaxed out of all of us. Her lips are pressed into a thin line that curves up into a smile at the edges, and I can faintly hear the hum of her voice, too quiet to have any effect, but ready to be raised in volume at any second.
Now more prepared and with all the important supplies loaded up, we start moving again.
We edge our way through the grass in silence, flinching at every bump and sudden movement from the wheelbarrow. At first, the bird monsters don’t move at all, until we’re almost to the road. Suddenly, in complete unison, they hop to nearby branches until they are once again positioned directly above us. The instant they start to move, I drop the wheelbarrow and grab my spade, and we each move closer together until we’re almost back to back.
We stay like this for another thirty seconds before realizing the birds aren’t going to attack yet. “Let’s go,” I whisper.
In only a few minutes we are back on the road, but it feels to me more like a lifetime, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Although, I’m not sure what I’m so relieved about: there’s even less cover out here for us to hide under if the flock decides to attack. I guess there’s just something appealing about knowing I don’t have to constantly look at the ground to make sure I don’t trip.
We continue our slow journey. After about fifteen minutes of maintaining the same crawling pace without any different response, I speed up a bit more. We are now moving at a slow walking speed, but the behavior of the bird monsters hasn’t changed at all. They continue to stare at us with their creepy green eyes and move completely in sync to catch up every time we get more than twenty feet away from them.
After thirty minutes, I hear Pallas whisper behind me, “Atlas,” and I stop to look back at him shaking his head slightly at me.
I understand his message -- nothing has changed, and we can’t keep this up forever. We need a new plan. And the only two options I can think of are to run or drive them off.
I give Pallas a faint nod, and he returns to looking outward as we pause in our small formation, still at the ready. I consider our options -- the others seemingly content to wait for me to give direction.
I really don’t want to flee. I don’t think the bird monsters can do much damage to us as we are: alert and guarding each others’ backs. But running down the road? We wouldn’t be able to defend ourselves at all if they decided to attack us.
I’m not confident in our ability to drive them off either. All the other monsters we’ve seen haven’t shown a shred of fear, even to the point of being almost suicidal -- although these bird monsters have shown more restraint than the rest.
So that only leaves killing them. As it stands, they’re completely protected from any of our attacks, but if we can draw them into range of our weapons, then we can potentially win this battle.
Convinced of our course of action, I whisper to the others, “Ready to fight?”
As if they had been expecting this the entire time, Pallas and Styx nod their heads, keeping their eyes peeled to the surrounding trees. Melete’s smile extends just a bit wider to confirm her readiness.
Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself. I push the wheelbarrow out a few feet to give myself more space, ready the spade in my hand, and let out a loud “HA!”
After the half hour of quiet, the noise startles even me as all the bird monsters flap their wings a few times on the branches. Beyond that though, there is no response.
Frowning to myself, I take another deep breath and yell out even louder, “COME AT US!” This time, I wave my arms as well, but there’s even less response from the bird monsters. They simply sit on the branches and tilt their heads at a slightly larger angle as they maintain their stare.
I sigh, realizing it won’t be quite that easy. I look around us, hoping to find a rock or branch I can use to throw at them. After a few seconds of searching, hearing only the sound of Melete’s humming, I almost slap myself in frustration. Why am I looking for something to throw when Melete already has the perfect ranged weapon at the ready?!
And my skill! I hadn’t even thought of using my new “skin hardening” technique. Immediately, I prepare myself and harden the skin around my neck, figuring that it is the most vulnerable area to aerial attacks.
The effort causes my hands to shake in front of me, and I struggle to keep from gasping for air. I’m just lucky my allies are too distracted by the surroundings to pay attention to my actions. Honestly, I’m amazed at their diligence and trust in me, and feel momentarily ashamed of my secret. I quickly push it away though -- right now, I have more important things to focus on.
“Melete,” I whisper once I’ve brought my breathing back to normal, “can you attack them with your voice?”
Her smile changes into a laugh, as she says delightedly “Of course! Let me drink some water first.”
I realize she’s been humming quietly almost nonstop for the last half hour without drinking anything, and I shift over to help cover her side. Melete kneels down in the center of our group to dig through her bag for a drink.
“Ok, I’m ready,” she finally says, before Styx interrupts.
“Wait! I got these while we were still in the cabin -- hopefully they’ll help.” I feel something pressed into my right hand as Styx slips something into Pallas’ hands as well. Looking down, I realize what she’s handed me. Just a small square of fabric. I look back to Styx to see her stuffing identical squares into her own ears, and realize what she’s doing.
“Smart,” I mumble, a bit ashamed that I didn’t think or plan ahead for something so obvious. Earplugs.
“They probably won’t stay in perfectly, but I couldn’t find anything better before we left.” We spend the next minute pushing and turning the fabric into our ears, keeping one hand on our weapons the whole time. The bird monsters look almost curious about what we’re doing -- hopefully they aren’t smart enough to actually understand what’s going on.
“READY?” I ask in a loud voice, and Styx and Pallas simply give me a thumbs up over their shoulder in response. “OK MELETE, LET’S GO.”
Melete, who’s been impatiently rocking from foot to foot as she looks into the trees, mouths something that looks like “finally,” before she starts singing.
She starts with a low tone, quiet enough that I wouldn’t have known she’d started if I didn’t see the bird monsters shifting in surprise..
Slowly her voice grows louder, and I am able to faintly make out the words behind her song.
…this is where I'm meant to be…
Despite barely being able to hear her voice, I can feel a bit of pain behind my eyes. The bird monsters though are significantly more affected, as her voice rises even further.
...if I can be strong...
Their eerie unity of movement has finally been broken, and they are now hopping agitatedly from branch to branch above our heads. I can see some of their beaks opening and closing, but I am unable to make out any cawing through the earplugs above the sound of Melete’s voice.
…down an unknown road…
I clench the handle of my spade tighter. Any moment now…
…no I won't accept defeat…
Fully prepared for an attack, I am surprised when I see the first bird take full flight to the skies. Seconds later, A group of three more birds take off and leave the rest of the flock behind. Within a minute, the rest of the bird monsters have left completely, and I can see no movement from the trees anymore.
…I will face its harms…
Despite this, we hold our formation for another two minutes until Melete finishes her song and the forest goes quiet.
…find where I belong.
I sigh in relief and begin to pull out my earplugs. I definitely would have preferred for the bird monsters to be dead so we don’t have to worry about them coming back, but leaving us alone is almost as good. We’ll just need someone to maintain a close watch at all times from here on out.
My relief is interrupted by an excited shout from Melete. “Hey look! My skill changed!”
S: 87
D: 38
W: 46 (+1)
I: 36
C: 51
47
Skills: Adjust:Self