“Cynthia, how’s it going inside the big building?” asked Doc Redmond, as his wife entered the triage tent.

“Not well honey. I really need to talk to you,” replied Cynthia, with a look of concern on her face.

“I’ve got no patients right now, have a seat. What’s wrong? There isn’t’ a problem with one of the kids is there?” prodded Redmond.

“No, they’re fine. Ed and Riley just keep asking why their friend’s parents are missing and I don’t know what to tell them. Riley keeps asking about CJ and when he’s coming back. We need to have a family talk with them. Besides that, it’s getting… intense inside. Tommy keeps getting sent out to make bigger fortifications and that big goon Kowalski keeps stealing glances at me. He’s really creeping me out. Once you finish today, can you come with me to grab the kids from their lessons? Then we could all sit down and eat together,” finished Cynthia.

Redmond has known his wife for over a decade. She’s never spilled concerns out like a broken faucet before. He looked at here with love in his eyes mixed with concern. She seemed to be rattled about something, and it wasn’t some lunkhead being creepy. She was an incredibly attractive woman and had learned to deal with that ages ago. There was something else behind her words. Cynthia wanted to get out of the main building and Redmond wanted to know why.

“Absolutely sweetheart. Maybe we can grab Tommy, and we can all eat together,” replied Redmond.

Redmond put down the surgical tools he was cleaning and turned to his wife before something struck him. Cynthia said the kids were asking when CJ would be coming back. They’d already broken the news to the kids that CJ was gone. Why did they think he was coming back?

“Honey why was Riley asking about CJ again? I thought we told them what happened already,” Redmond asked.

“Oh, you don’t know? I would have thought Tommy or one of the others would have told you already. How do I do this so that you’ll understand me? You know the messages we get right? Well, we all got one saying that CJ wah wah wah. Which means he’s still alive,” Cynthia paused for a second noticing her husbands tell tale look that meant he didn’t understand what she said, “The important part is he’s alive. I expect him to show up back here at some point. I’m actually praying that he does,” explained Cynthia.

“Wait he’s alive? That’s great news. But I thought Jerry said he was dead. I had my suspicions but no way to prove he was lying. CJ just wasn’t the kind of guy that runs when things get tough. Let’s see if we can find Tommy. I want to ask him why he didn’t come tell me,” said Redmond, as he finished his preparatory work and they both left the emergency tent.

No sooner did they leave the tent than some guards dressed in Flaming Pitchfork uniforms came charging past. They held a screaming man under each arm as they dragged him toward the southern gates.

“No! Please, I don’t want to be a runner. I’ll eat half rations. Anything but that—” his cries were cut off as they traveled through the gates and out into the Pine Barrens.

“Why a flaming pitchfork?” asked Redmond.

“That’s what skipper wanted on his uniforms. It was a simple design, and I didn’t push back. I’ve got a couple for you with double padding. I can’t really make more until they scavenge up some more materials,” answered Cynthia, before entwining her fingers with Redmond’s.

The couple walked a little deeper into the tent city that surrounded the main headquarters for the Flaming Pitchforks. The number of uniformed guardsmen was still dwarfed by the amount of no phone refugees. Twenty minutes later they made there way to a large wooden cage. It could have doubled for a log cabin if the supports were any closer. It was a simple cube shape with slats between the timbers.

Tommy was instructing two younger men about proper placement, carving angles, and sanding techniques. His padded Flaming Pitchfork uniform was covered in a brown apron. Said apron was caked in wood shavings. The hair on the side of Tommy’s head had started to grow back in over time but he was till mostly faux hawk. There were bags under his eyes, and he looked a little malnourished. After his last set of instructions, he noticed the Redmond’s walking over and waiving.

“What brings you two up to the north gate?” asked Tommy, greeting them with a smile.

“Well Cynthia wanted to plan a family dinner tonight and we wanted to know if you’d like to come?” asked Redmond.

“I’d love to, but I need to finish this project for Skipper. We’re almost there. A few more hours and we’ll be able to seal the foundation,” responded Tommy, wilting a little at what he’d just said.

“It’s great news that CJ is still alive, isn’t it?” asked Redmond, with one cocked eyebrow.

“Shit, I forgot to tell you. I’ve been so busy. Yes, he’s alive and he… crap how do we tell him about the message thing? He did something really good, and I hope we can visit him. No one seems to know where Leaf’s Bend is or how to get there,” responded Tommy.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“We could discuss all of this over a family dinner. It’ll be good for your health. You’re looking pretty pale bud,” said Redmond, only half joking.

“Go on Tommy, we can make the final preparations without you. Get yourself something to eat,” said one of the young workers.

“Are you sure? You’ll plane the logs on the right side and everything on your own?” asked Tommy.

“Just go. We need a break from you too. Slave driver,” chuckled the other worker.

“Looks like I’m all yours. What do you think the mess halls mak—” Tommy started before the alarm bells began to ring.

The bell rang in two short clangs. Ding Ding. People started to scatter to find cover. Tommy and Redmond’s eyes snapped to the outer walls where guards were loading weapons. Shots fired out into dimming light from Redmond left side. Then a terrible thrumming could be heard from the trees.

The next morning CJ woke up in a soft, vacant adjustable bed in one of the old folks’ rooms. There were some old WWII soldier photos hanging on the wall as well as a folded American flag in a display case. Internally, he checked his slate messages. There wasn’t anything new, but he still had an attribute point to distribute. He looked at his attribute tab and began thinking.

Attribute

Score

Intelligence

23

Strength

10

Speed

20

Agility

12

Wisdom

10

Luck

0

He wanted to increase his Agility some more. At least until it was on par with his speed. That sprint across the bones yesterday was something special. He wanted to add some more maneuverability to that aspect of his attributes. At some point he’d drop some into strength but between Elena and Monty, the bruiser role was pretty much covered. That made him think of his class skill trees again. At level ten he should be getting another class point. He’s more likely to dip into the elemental spell section this time since both he and Monty could cast whatever spells he had. The cards and his ring gave him more combat options but blasting enemies with ice shards or maybe an earthquake to make them lose their footing sounded kind of nice.

He hadn’t navigated through that tree the first time, but he’d plan to do it next time. For now, he’d just put his new attribute point into Agility, bringing it up thirteen. Now he planned to dig through his inventory and reset his card decks. CJ had lost at least five decks of cards over the course of two days. At this rate he’d run out of cards in no time. He hadn’t even had a chance to try out a fully loaded Joker card yet. That was probably a good thing since it meant he had to fling out thirteen cards beforehand. That many attacks would probably be the signal of a drawn out fight.

“You awake yet, young blood?” asked Roger from the doorway.

“Yeah, I’m just checking my slate. Making sure everything is updated. Going through my kit. Need anything?” CJ shot back.

“Well, I wanted to thank you. You gave an old man a chance to redeem himself. I… I lost the light of life after that thing took my foot. I shudder thinking about how many times I thought about just ending it myself. Then I met you nice folks. You showed me that there are still good people in this fucked up apocalypse. My tour of duty begins again today. I’d be happy to come with y’all back to your safe zone. Consider me one of the team. All in. No regrets now,” said Roger, standing a little straighter and maybe a little more confident.

“We’d love to have you. There are still survivors out there. Like those Humanity’s Savior folks. I’m sure they’re all scared and just doing what they think is right. We need to find a way to reach people without everything being a god damned shoot out. We’ve got several quests granted to us by this slate system. I don’t know if I can add you to them or if you have to touch the Quest Pillar. We can figure all of that out later. As for the dungeons we plan to tackle today, it’s up to you if you’d like to join us. They are dangerous according to Monty, but no risk no reward these days,” said CJ, sitting up to have his feet dangle off the side of the bed.

CJ looked down at his patten leather shoes and tsk’d. They were completely scuffed up and the soles were wearing out. His eyes drifted over the previous inhabitants’ belongings before they landed on an old shoeshine kit. Kicking off his shoes, he hopped over to the kit and opened the box. It had two telescoping shelves with different colored shine and mix of brushes.

“Captain Landry’s shine box. He was a good man. I think he’d want you to have it. Speaking of things you should have, here I fixed this for you,” Roger said before tossing over a small metal object with two straps hanging off of it from either side.

CJ caught it in his right hand and rolled it in his palm. It was his old wrist mounted fireball gadget, but it was now slightly heavier, and Slate recognized.

New Item: Flame Spitter- Uncommon Item/ Fire Attuned ManaTech- For the cost of 10 Mana, the wielder can fire off a flame dart that burns a target for their level in damage.

“ManaTech?” asked CJ, mouth agape.

“My Mana Forge skill upgraded to ManaTech thanks to that crystal you had me pick up. I couldn’t believe it at first. The difference is a reduced mana cost for me to make a thing and a greater chance that I’ll create something with one rarity level greater than I plan for. Originally, If I were making something without a blueprint, there was a higher chance it would fail. I can start from a partial idea now and can copy something I made, as long as I’m holding the original, for half the cost. There are skill levels now too. Before it was just an ability, but it looks like there are levels to this game. It’s time to teach this old dog new tricks,” Roger explained, with an ear to ear grin.