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A hint of suspicion appeared in Grace’s eyes: that Rowan was crazy. He had seen that look in other people’s eyes before when he went for some wild challenge in Truth or Dare games. Isla’s voice startled them.
“Ah, good, you’re still here. Go to the church, there will be a short debrief about the alien encounter. The nice feds will be very brief. There are specialized shrinks around, to take care things go smoothly.”
“What alien encounter, Isla?” Grace hissed.
“Monsters tried to eat us but Rowan killed them all! Thomas helped, but just a little,” Lizzie stated.
Grace began shouting at the blonde officer, but Rowan’s mind skimmed off their talk like a surfer a wave. His senses were tingling with alarm. All the cars were still there—except the bus— and all the parents and children. A few black 4x4s guarded both ends of the road, and people in black suits, half a dozen. He hated that kind of people.
!!!Alert !!!
The System had decrypted the US government communication channels. All participants in the Ominous Grove mini-dungeon event are to be transported to a secret government facility for further examination. You, Thomas, and Lizzie have a 99% chance to be dissected.
Quest: Survive
Path A: Run. Follow the river downstream and lose yourself in the mountains.
Reward: Continued existence. Will perk, threshold 2: Cold Soul. You will be able to control your emotions. Letting Lizzie be dissected will be no biggie. Hell, for a buck, you could dissect her too.
Path B: Stand Your Ground. Transform Elkins into a haven. Accepting this path will activate the Core you looted. The process will be self-explanatory.
Reward: Continued existence. Will perk, threshold 2: High-Tier Artifact User. Able to use high-tier Artifacts.
“Hey, what’s that? Put it back immediately. Don’t make me tase you!” Isla touched her holster.
“Don’t worry,” Rowan started, but then time stopped. The policewoman’s eyes, her hand, frozen in motion. Lizzie pouting, Grace screaming, the same.
Do you want to consume: Town Core? Upon activation, Elkins will become a Mana Awakened City. The Core will be transformed into a pocket dimension Control Center accessible from the Main Square or equivalent. Y/N
Yes.
Please choose a town style. The Fortress style has been auto-selected due to the detection of impending danger. Hostiles will be teleported out of its boundaries.*
*Note: Subject to the System’s Laws of Challenge and Warfare.
The light grew and enveloped everything, and then time resumed. Rowan's ears buzzed, and there was discomfort starting from his shoulder, a hard tingle making his arm twitch. His eyes were barely able to see because of the afterimage. There were faint noises of people panicking and cars leaving. Parents and kids fleeing a shooting scene. The black cars and suits had vanished and after the bright light the core had projected, the shadows of the sunset had more depth.
"Hey! That's not cool!" Rowan yelled, noticing the Taser bullets stuck in his jacket, still delivering their discharge.
"You're mad, Isla?" Grace yelled. "Lizzie, get back, don't touch those wires!"
“I’m sorry!” Isla screamed, taking her finger off the trigger. “He startled me, I thought it was a bomb.”
“Are you hurt?” Grace screamed too, eyes widened.
“He’s OK,” Lizzie yelled. “He's a hero!”
Groaning, Rowan shook his head, then patted his shoulder, pulling out the darts and throwing them down. There were holes in his jacket and shirt, and the skin underneath felt sour, like after a bruise. That was the mildest tasing he had ever been through, he concluded.
[Elkins Town’s Core AI to Rowan]: Hi. I’m the Awakened Town’s AI, at your service. You are now hearing my voice at the same time as reading the text. Your Tough Cookie Perk is enhanced within Elkins’s boundaries. You’re resistant to pain, mild electric shocks, and even medium-caliber bullets.
“Thank goodness, but what about my favorite jacket?” Rowan wailed. “It’s a thousand bucks worth Enzo Car Coat.”
“Your fault!” Isla yelled. “What the heck was that shit?”
[Elkins Town’s Core AI to Rowan]: Your jacket is now tagged as Bound Light Leather Armor and will repair itself within twenty-four hours if you keep it inside the town’s boundaries. The T-shirt, on the other hand, needs to be stitched manually. Thank you for keeping calm while hearing my voice in your head. Most people would behave hysterically.
“Whatever… For your information, officer, I just saved our lives. Those feds were going to dissect me, Lizzie, and Thomas. I teleported them out of town. That was that shit.”
“This is crazy,” Grace mumbled.
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“And I'm supposed to believe it just because you say so?” the policewoman yelled, now her hand on her telescopic baton.
“Isla, err… guy, please, just calm down!” Grace put her hands up in a stopping gesture.
“Rowan, his name is Rowan,” Lizzie reminded her. "A HERO!"
Some loud bangs attracted their attention. It was Thomas, hitting the police car’s rear door glass with his fists, from the inside. The other policeman was nowhere to be seen.
“Oh, my God, I forgot my child was locked into the car,” Isla panicked, rushing to the vehicle.
“Hi, Miss Grace,” Thomas said once freed. “Mom, Rowan’s right, those feds were dead set on killing and dissecting us. I got the quest as well. I'll forward you the notification as proof. You did great, man. I expected you’d run.”
[Elkins Town’s Core AI to Rowan]: Thomas was going to take over the Stand Your Ground quest if you’d refused. We need to select different perks and settings for the town, please do so as soon as possible.
“I need a drink…” Rowan massaged his forehead.
“Let’s go home,” Grace proposed. “I certainly need one too.”
"At least come to the department to give a statement," Isla said to Rowan, almost imploring with puppy eyes.
"No," Graced stated bluntly. "You're too obsessed with your work, Isla, and this is not a good time. Now I'm going to take this gentleman home and offer him a good drink. You'll have your statement when he's ready for it."
The policewoman didn't reply but was obviously sulking.
“Err… aren't we going to drive?” Rowan said, turning his head all over. The only car still hanging around was the police vehicle.
“We live around the corner, we’ll walk,” Grace said.
“Bye, Isla, bye Thomas,” Lizzie pulled her tongue on the boy.
Isla replied by flickering her fingers. Just go, this is too much for me, her gesture conveyed.
Five minutes later, after basically turning all the way around the park—which Rowan explained to ballerina shoes Grace wore—they arrived five hundred feet across the place they started from. Grace’s house was small, for a bed and breakfast, and large for a house, a two-story charming Arts and Crafts brick building, with a porch, and a small garden behind. A gray sedan that had seen better days was parked on the street.
“Come, let’s go inside, I’ll prepare dinner.”
“A snack would do.”
“That’s exactly what I had in mind.”
Rowan nodded and followed the woman. The front door was opened, and after passing through a small mud room, they arrived at a large open space, with a dining zone but also a sitting area. One could tell some effort had been invested in the decorations and overall design.
“Lizzie, thank God you’re safe! ”
A man in his late fifties rose from a leather couch and came forward, hugging the girl and her mother. His house robe, silky and luxurious, thrown over an elegant house suit, was striking in itself, but the man’s mustache was even more shocking. Strong, and thick, its tips curved upward.
“Sorry to be so direct, but that’s the most impressive facial hair I've ever seen,” Rowan said, accepting the offered handshake.
“Thank you,” the man bowed.
“Rowan, meet Dmitri, a retired art teacher,” Grace said. “He rents for the year, and worked for the college until recently.”
“It's cheaper to live here, for now, and I like to live near other artists.”
“Mommy is a singer and also plays the uptight piano,” Lizzie advertised, pointing to the musical instrument.
“Upright, sweetheart. Dmitri, please help me make some sandwiches.” Grabbing the retiree’s arm, Grace pulled him into the kitchen. She closed the sliding doors behind her, but Rowan’s hearing, enhanced by the new stats, caught everything.
“I forbid you to make a pass at him.”
“No problem, you call dibs, I get it.”
“I’m not calling anything. He saved Lizzie’s life. I don’t want him to leave with a bad experience. Promise to behave?”
“C’mon! You know me better, Gracie-dear, I would never hit on a kid.”
I’m twenty-five, you prick! And not interested anyway.
“You want to play hide and seek in the garden?” Lizzie asked, and the kitchen conversation disintegrated from his focus.
“Of course!” Rowan exclaimed. “I love hide and seek.”
Playing with her was a blast. Often, her cute little feet were showing from behind bushes, giving her away, and some old basket, put on the head, was enough to make her invisible, in her mind. Lizzie was a funny kid, and Rowan enjoyed playing together. Still, he wasn’t the type to lie or lose on purpose—too much—and after a while, they started throwing a ball at each other. Thirty minutes later, Grace called them inside.
----------------------------------------
Eating and chatting took two hours. The food was awesome: buckwheat pancakes, with different fillings, melting in the mouth. An amazing wine to go with the food, and a fantastic whiskey from a decanter to accompany the desserts.
“This must be the high rye, ten-year small batch,” Rowan said in a soft voice. Lizzie had fallen asleep on the nearby couch.
“No idea, Dmitri bought it,” Grace half-shrugged.
“It is. You’re a connoisseur,” Dmitri toasted.
“I work in the Bourbon business, that’s all.”
“Interesting. Tell me more.”
“It’s a short story. I love Bourbon and decided to work in the industry. That was a few years ago. Now I’m an assistant production manager in a small distillery.”
“Nice,” Dmitri nodded. “What brought you around here? Except Karma, of course.”
“Since you asked, I sold my muscle car to a guy in Virginia and brought it to him. We drove around, then the guy invited me to a Bluegrass concert and I spent the night in a guest room. He arranged for a tourist bus to give me a ride… I think we should continue tomorrow,” Rowan looked at Lizzie, who was snoring softly.
“I’ll put Lizzie to bed and show you your room,” Grace said. The woman took the dozing child in her arms and went up the stairs.
“Good night,” Dmitri exited the room in his turn.
Five minutes later, Grace returned, letting herself fall on the couch, arms limp, eyes resting on the ceiling. An image of exhaustion, if any. “She woke up, needed her plush, and I searched everywhere. Found it under her bed, eventually.”
“She’s so sweet,” Rowan smiled.
“You don’t need to tell me.” Grace giggled, covering her face with her hands.
“A last glass?” he offered a refill.
“So be it.”
Grace took a large sip, then searched his eyes. “Was it as bad as she told us?”
“It was worse. Just being honest.”
A shiver passed through Grace’s body.
“I’m no hero. It did it to survive and helped the kids in the process.”
Grace nodded, smiling a bitter smile. For a good minute, she stared into nothingness, glass in hand, and then she took another large sip, finishing it. “She wasn’t… planned…”
Rowan replied with silence, letting her continue.
“I… took the morning-after pill… just in case. But she was there, hanging on. Then…” she diverted her eyes.
“You wanted an abortion?”
“Yes. And changed my mind at the last minute… I had… a dreadful feeling. A panic attack, maybe? I like to call it a premonition. I knew she was destined to be. My boyfriend and I broke up, he… we… were very young. Last college year.”
Rowan nodded, with tears in his eyes.
“Today, when she left with the school bus, I had the same feeling. The dread. I wanted to stop her, and keep her home, but forced myself to let her go. I thought it would do her good. Teach her to be more independent... Thank you..."
Shaking her head, she wiped her tears and rose, letting the glass down on the coffee table. He followed her up another row of stairs, to the farthest corner of the house.
“It’s the quietest room I have.”
They had both entered the room, and it was small. She tripped on a crease in the carpet and as they bumped into each other, Grace’s arms enveloped his neck, maybe a support against falling, but maybe not. For a few long seconds, they stood there, immobile. Her breasts were generous, even if she was thin and petite. He kissed her, at first a nibble, but as she replied with passion, he replied in kind.
Her mouth tasted like Bourbon, and that one was one of his favorites. Clothes went away, one by one, and the 'just in case' pack of condoms he carried around in his backpack—but had never seen any action—finally found its usefulness as they landed in bed. She mounted him, moaning softly, moving slowly, then faster. The need to control things, to feel safe, he interpreted the position.
It was fantastic sex, one of the best he ever had, yet, somehow, he was torn in two. One part enjoyed it, the second… The second thought about too many things. Could he hurt her, with his enhanced body? That made Rowan extra gentle. At times, his thoughts erred into lewd territories. What if Isla mounted him this way, her strong thighs wrapped around his? He dismissed the thought—Grace was wonderful enough to merit his undivided attention—but it crept back at least twice.
The end was intense and long. She stayed there, for a long time. Finally, she crept down, little by little, and rested her head on his chest, breathing heavily, then softly. He allowed his tears to flow freely, for a while, then fell asleep as well.