Hunter didn’t know what he had been expecting. Whatever it was, he was disappointed in his grandparent’s reaction. They didn’t cry out in joy or ask how he had survived the Rift. Instead, Hank cooly looked at John and then over at the unnamed other male in the room.
“You two are dismissed. Give us some time with Hunter.”
This was a side of Hank that Hunter had never seen before. The teenager had always assumed that his grandfather was some kind of big shot. His multiple houses, cars, and toys were an indication of the wealth and power the man had accumulated. However, when Hunter heard his grandfather’s voice, he realized that Hank was a man that was used to issuing commands and them being followed.
John slunk out of the door without another word like a whipped dog. The other man collected a couple of scrolls from the table and then similarly made his exit. Hunter watched the two go with a sick feeling in his stomach.
Man up. They’re just your grandparents. You’ve amassed your own type of strength while you’ve been in the Rift. Don’t let them take that away from you.
When the outsiders had left the house and closed the door behind them, Hank finally addressed his grandson.
“So, you’ve survived,” he said in a tone as dry as the desert. Hunter wasn’t sure if the man found that fact a blessing or an inconvenience. Hunter collected himself and moved closer to the table. He was aware of the interested gaze Blair directed toward him.
“Yes,” Hunter replied. “It seems that you’ve done well enough while I’ve been gone.”
Hank smiled, and the man’s pointed teeth lent it a malicious air.
“Even during the Apocalypse, the Golds aren’t so powerless as to be left behind.”
His smile faded as he took a better look at his grandson. “Although we’re going to have to arrange for you to see the Great One as soon as possible. No family of mine is going to be a pale-skinned human during the new world order.”
“New world order?”
Blair’s eyebrows raised at her grandson’s question.
“You truly don’t know what’s going on?” Her question sounded snide and calculating. It was wholly different from the grandmother he was used to hearing. She was always as rude as her husband, but it was veiled behind a chipper voice that made her seem like a lovely older lady. Hunter mentally described it as her customer service voice. It was pleasant to the ear but just as cutting as a scalpel.
“Err, I’ve been a little busy,” Hunter admitted.
Hank quirked an eyebrow. “Doing what?”
“Mostly surviving. Some asshole named the Archivist dropped me into the Rift five days ago, and I’ve been running and fighting ever since. I’ve killed more imps than I can count and a couple of ghorum.”
Hunter didn’t miss the widened eyes of his grandmother or the considering look on his grandfather’s face.
“A couple of ghorum,” he mused. “How did you do that when they’ve killed our best warriors?”
Hunter shrugged. “Surprise attacks.”
The teenager chose not to elaborate on his tactics. He still wasn’t sure what game was being played in the Outpost and wanted to keep his cards close to his chest. Now that the warrior was thinking about it, he needed to find a way to keep John from opening his fat mouth. If current circumstances were considered, the tiefling didn’t have any standing to help Hunter, much less protect him from the peril. Hunter needed to hang onto as many secrets as he could before revealing his true strength.
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Hank shared a look with his wife before turning back to their grandson.
“Still, that’s a….notable…achievement.” Hank sounded pained to admit it.
“To answer your question, Earth has found itself in the middle of a war. Really, the war to end all wars. The sides don’t fight using bombs and planes. Instead, they use magic and weapons.”
Hunter nodded. “Yeah, the Heavenly Host against the Infernal Horde.”
Hank’s eyes sharpened. “Where did you hear that if you were lost in the wilderness?”
Hunter schooled his face. “I asked John a bunch of questions on the way up.”
“And where did you acquire that armor?” His grandmother asked.
“I killed a bunch of imps and used their armor to create my own. It was a product of necessity.”
Finally, Hunter’s grandfather looked pleased.
“Maybe we’ll make a Gold out of you yet. It isn’t easy to survive in the Rift. Our warriors haven’t been able to fight a ghorum by themselves. They have to group up to bring each one down, and we’ve already lost more warriors than ghorum slain.”
Hunter stayed silent instead of replying directly to his grandfather. The teenager could hear the implied question in Hank’s voice, but Hunter was unwilling to take the bait. If this had been pre-Rift Hunter, he might have replied out of misplaced pride or anger. Instead, he would let Hank reveal his intentions before explaining his own.
“As for the new world order,” Hank continued. “Both factions have sent their representatives to Earth. The Infernal Horde has arrived through their Rifts and the Host through their waypoints. Rifts are easier to create and more numerous, but it only allows the weakest infernal forces to invade. Meanwhile, waypoints allow more of the Heavenly Host, but they take a long time to create, and there are fewer of them.”
Hunter frowned at the new information. “So why are you here?” He wondered.
A gleam came into Hank’s eye. “Simple. The closest waypoint is in Denver while there are tons of Rifts popping up all over the state.”
He pointed to the maps on the wall, and Hunter could see that there were small red dots that the teenager assumed were Rifts. They littered the parchment-like chick pox. In comparison, he found one blue dot in the center of Denver that was likely the waypoint his grandfather was referring to. It looked woefully underpowered against the sheer amount of demonic influence.
“If we’re going to be on our own for a while, then I’d rather be on the side that’s going to win. There are opportunities to gain while working for the Infernal Horde. The Great One in charge of the Rift has ambitious plans. He’s already subdued the Rift Sentinel and is working on increasing the potency of this Rift. The mayor thinks we can snatch power for ourselves with this opportunity. We’ll be able to rid ourselves of our slave status and conquer the new world for ourselves.”
“Slave status?” Hunter recoiled from the terminology, and for the first time, Hank looked uncomfortable.
“Yes. Greed demons, probably all demons for that matter, only accept slaves as followers. It’s more a distinction than anything else. The Great One has left us to our own devices while he deals with the Sentinel. He’s directed the mayor to act in his stead and ordered us to hone our strength against the minor demons of the Rift.”
Hunter felt pity for his grandparents for the first time in his life. They gave up their freedom for the tantalizing promise of power. If the world was in the middle of a war, as they claimed, then they had to realize they didn’t stand a chance by giving themselves over to the Infernal Horde. No matter what his grandfather thought, they were just pawns in a bigger game. Hunter didn’t want to play the game. He wanted to get back to Phoenix and make sure his friends and family didn’t fall into the same trap.
Either Hunter’s grandfather didn’t notice his grandson’s discomfort, or he didn’t care.
“Now that you’re here, we can get you pledged to the Great One as well. No need to thank us, boy. With infernal power, you’ll be able to help the major cleanse the Rift to prepare for the Great One’s plans.”
Hunter merely nodded at the declaration. The more he heard about the Infernal Horde, the worse it sounded. Whether in mind or body, he wasn’t going to become a slave to either faction.
“I can already defeat some of the ghorum. Is the mayor offering any rewards for killing demons? If so, can you take me to see him?”
Blair frowned at her grandson. “How did you know he was offering quests?”
Hunter shrugged. “Videogame logic.”
“This isn’t a video game,” Hank snarled. “This is life or death. Your grandmother and I have been building our power and prestige for months. You should be thanking us for this opportunity.”
Hunter only frowned at his grandfather’s outburst. He didn’t remember his family being so over the top. He couldn’t tell if it was the greed influencing them or his higher-leveled attributes that were allowing him to remain so calm. Either way, his grandparent’s thinking was the wrong approach. Everything had been like a game so far. Visualization and grit had carried him through the Rift so far. His grandparents were a dying breed—dinosaurs so confident in their own strength that they didn’t see the comet above them crashing to the ground.
“You’re right,” Hunter lied. “Can you take me to the mayor? I’d like to get started.”