“No time to whine about my problems,” I muttered as I rose and switched jackets.

The new armored jacket felt wonderful, a solid weight that didn’t hinder my movements. It was made from heavy leather in a matte black finish with ribbed padding on the shoulders and silver buckles instead of a zipper.

Then I used my upgrade scroll. It flashed and dissolved in a burst of golden sparkles. I received a new notification.

“Mirror Cloak upgraded to epic. Improved concealment while moving. Plus 25% defense against magical attacks.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” I grinned as my cloak pulsed with silver light for a moment.

The night was still pretty young, so I summoned Switchblade and hopped on to do some more hunting. I had to be close to level 8. I glanced one more time toward the distant mountain where Bristleback lived. If only that had gone better. He could have definitely given me a level, but I wasn’t ready for a monster like that.

I needed something tough, but not insane. Again I rode up into the eastern mountains, but kept well away from Bristelback’s home. I sent a warning to the other Explorers to stay away from there too. I ignored the questions about why my latest ping was so many miles away from my last one. The story of getting wrecked by Bristleback would not get out, if I could help it.

My misadventure with Bristleback had proven one thing, though. The higher up the mountains I ventured, the stronger the monsters. His lair had been high enough that he probably lived at least as high as the stage 2 plateau. Did that mean monsters that high in other mountains could be stronger too?

I planned to find out, and accelerated upward with every turn of a gully or canyon. Eventually I ascended to a lovely high meadow at least half a mile across. Covered in clover and low grasses, it was dotted with individual trees or small copses that dotted the gentle, rolling hills. Clusters of enormous bushes sagged under the weight of ripe berries I didn’t recognize.

Another stream bubbled along the near side, dropping in a series of small waterfalls between clear pools. Standing near one of the larger pools was a small compound, entirely surrounded by a log barrier wall 12 feet tall. My first group of survivors.

“That was surprisingly easy,” I said as I accelerated toward the compound. A man standing on a platform behind the wall spotted me and started waving mightily.

Rough wooden gates creaked open and about 30 people rushed out to greet me, waving and shouting. They were very enthusiastic. Most wore very basic clothing, with some wearing what looked like rough-sewn animal hides. I only spotted two pairs of shoes among them all.

I slowed as I drew near and scanned them. The leader was a man in his 50s with disheveled white hair and a wild salt-and-pepper beard. He wore no shirt and the skin of his pot belly sagged as if he’d lost a lot of weight.

“George Dunning. Level 5 baby human. Team Peter Pan.”

“What?” I muttered to myself as I scanned the others. They all had terrible levels, ranging from 4 to 7. I spotted teams including Dragnet, Game of Thrones, Miami Vice, and Seinfeld.

“Thank god you found us!” George exclaimed as they all crowded around me like a bunch of starving refugees.

“Have you all been here the entire time?”

A tall woman standing next to George said, “Yes. We couldn’t risk traveling anywhere else. There are monsters everywhere.”

“Lucy Dunning. Level 6 baby human. Team Peter Pan.”

Her long, brown hair showed gray roots along her scalp. It was pulled into a loose pony tail, and she too looked pretty unkempt. She wore a dirty white t-shirt and shorts, but no shoes. If I had to guess, she and George were married. I hadn’t seen anyone else stay on the same team with family or friends.

Before I could ask about that, another fellow from team Miami Vice with a blue suit coat but no shirt added, “We knew someone wold come to rescue us. We had water and built that shelter and fought off the monsters when they found us.”

His name was actually Don Johnson. Perfect.

“Such a nightmare,” George added.

“Do you have any good food?” a 20-something girl from team Outlander asked. “Most of us picked Base Camp as our first utility spell, but the food is so basic. Who eats the same thing every day?”

“How long were you going to stay here?”

“Until help arrived,” George said with a shrug.

His wife Lucy added, “This world is insane. We shouldn’t be here.”

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Don nodded. “We were tourists. There’s been a mistake. We weren’t even supposed to go through Colorado. It was a last-minute change.”

“No one should be here.” Refusing to accept what had happened was suicidal. “Hiding in this valley won’t help. Didn’t you hear the announcement? We have to hit level 10 and get to the next stage.”

“So why are you only level 7?” Lucy demanded. “You act like you’re better than us, but you won’t make it either.”

“At least I’m working on it.” I wasn’t about to explain everything to them.

George said, “We still have a few days. We talked about it and agreed to wait until help arrived or we got teleported back home.”

Looking smug, Lucy added. “If we don’t play the game, they’ll just send us back. They don’t need all of us.”

I just stared. Dealing with reality was tough. I’d had my moments of panic and denial, but didn’t they want to live?

“Listen, that’s not how it works. If you don’t advance, you’re going to die.”

“How do you know?” Lucy snapped.

I fought down the urge to turn Switchblade and leave the idiots to their fate. Maybe once they saw Stepstone they’d get motivated, or maybe someone there could talk sense into them. I couldn’t. I literally could not understand their mentality. It was like talking with people from another world.

Back on Earth, that mentality was pretty common. Let someone else do the work. There were layers of safety nets in the States that could help folks going through hard times. This wasn’t Earth, though. They hadn’t changed at all.

Thinking about it that way made me see just how much I had changed. I was not the same person I’d been just days ago. I wish I hadn’t needed to change, but I planned to live, to survive, and to get strong enough to protect my loved ones both here and back on Earth.

“Haven’t you been watching the survivor counter?”

Don said, “Yeah. People who move around get killed. Most of us have survived this long so we’ve got to be doing something right.”

I closed my eyes for a second, just breathing. In a twisted sense, he had a point. “Look, if the only requirement was not dying, you’d be doing better than some. We need to hit level 10 and climb to a higher stage. That’s the reality of this crazy world.”

“And if we don’t go, how do you know the game won’t just leave us here until someone else climbs all the way up to that Marisara queen and deals with her?” Lucy demanded.

“You’re just going to trust someone else with the responsibility for saving your lives?”

“Sure,” George said. “We do it all the time. Police and fire fighters protect us at home. Someone will step up and do it here. I was a manager. I’m no warrior.”

Muttered agreement from the rest of the party left me momentarily speechless. I sighed and sent a message to the explorers with the waypoint of my position. I quickly outlined what I’d found and requested a team to escort the fools down the hill.

“So, someone’s coming?” asked the girl who had asked about food. “Will they have trucks or something? I’m not walking that far without shoes.”

“No, they won’t have a truck. I’ve got the only transport I know of and I walked until I won this for killing monsters. If you want shoes or better food or better gear, you have to fight for it.”

“That’s not fair,” she said, crossing her arms and sulking.

Lucy patted the girl’s arm and glared at me. “There’s no need to be rude.”

“Telling the truth isn’t being rude.”

“Are you going to stay here and protect us until the other team arrives?” Don asked.

“No. I’ve got my own work to do.”

“Well if you’re so brave, shouldn’t you be leveling faster?” George asked.

“Some folks should arrive in the morning to escort you all down to Stepstone. That’s the town in the valley where we’re gathering before heading up to the next stage. In the meantime, you need to get some levels.”

“We’ve used up all of our temporary spells,” one woman near the back of the group called. “We don’t have enough weapons. We can’t fight. The monsters are too strong. They’ll kill us.”

“Catelyn Smith. Baby human level 7. Team Game of Thrones.”

The others nodded agreement. I should have realized the situation. None of them were high enough levels to have permanented anything.

“If you had better weapons, would you fight?”

George and Lucy both scoffed, but Catelyn pushed forward. “I would.”

She looked about my age, a pretty blonde with bright blue eyes. She wore tan shorts and a blue blouse, but no shoes. Several of the others echoed her words.

“Okay. I might be able to help. Who else? If you’re willing to fight, stand next to Catelyn.”

The group shifted around me as about a dozen men and women joined Catelyn. George and Lucy moved to the opposite side of Switchblade and the rest of the group clustered around them. Lucy looked annoyed with Catelyn, but George looked relieved to see someone else volunteering to do the fighting.

I jumped off Switchblade and banished it, eliciting gasps of wonder. Then I pulled a bunch of the random polearm weapons I’d picked up from the bulls and handed one each to all of Catelyn’s followers. Most looked eager, although a few looked nervous. When I said I’d help, had they thought I meant I’d do the work for them?

To Catelyn I gave 3 standard healing potions, one of the silver-tipped steel spears I took from the cows, and one of my precious laser rifles.

“Thank you,” she breathed, staring at the weapons and potions like they were miracles.

Everything but the rifle disappeared into her inventory and when she looked up to meet my gaze, her blue eyes were bright with emotion. She gripped the rifle tight, standing taller, determination in her gaze. With her leading the fighters, some of them might actually have a chance.

“Hey, can I have a rifle?” another man from the non-fighters group called.

“No. You said you don’t want to fight.”

“I didn’t know you had guns.”

“Catelyn gets it. That’s all I’ve got. That weapon can’t be taken from her,” I lied. “So you’d all better hope she’s a good shot.”

“I will be,” Catelyn said, then leaned closer and whispered, “Shouldn’t I get a message about it not being able to be stolen?”

I shrugged. “Who can explain the game? Listen, the rifle will give you an edge, but it’ll run out of energy if you rely on it too much.”

She straightened and asked more loudly, “The rescue team will get here in the morning?”

I nodded.

“That gives us all night to hunt. We have some leveling to do.”

I extracted a couple of the zombie lanterns and handed them to Catelyn, then pulled out my remaining pairs of zombie boat shoes. I had just enough to shod all the fighters.

“Hey, I want shoes!” the same girl who wanted fresh food exclaimed.

“Then start killing monsters. I got these as loot drops.” To Catelyn and her fighters I said, “Work together and you’ll be okay.”

“Where are you going?” Lucy exclaimed. “It’s almost totally dark.”

“I’m also hunting.”

I summoned Switchblade, jumped on, and hit the throttle.