Alabama, USA, Summer 2020
“Congratulations, Colin!”
The colorful, hand drawn sign hanging on the wall echoed the words from the packed living room.
Colin’s eyes darted from face to face.
His enormous extended family greeted him with happy smiles and congratulatory words.
“Do you like it, Colin? I did most of it,” his little sister gestured to the sign and its many colors and drawings of graduation, football and engineering related things.
He picked her up in strong hands and spun her around before hugging her tightly. “It’s awesome!”
A long round of hugs, handshakes and slaps on the back followed as he made his way through the gauntlet.
“You sweatin’, C-boy?” his uncle chuckled.
“I got to get out of this gown.”
“Can’t wait to get out of this suit and tie, myself,” his dad said.
“No!” his mom snapped. “We’ve got pictures.”
“Well, you best get on with that, sis,” his uncle said. “We’re gettin’ hungry and your boy here’s drippin’.”
“Momma,” Colin began, “I’ll put it back on later for picture. You know, when the sun goes down and it isn’t so damn hot.”
“Watch your mouth, child,” his grandmother smacked the back of his head.
She must’ve been in a good mood because she didn’t bring her usual windup and follow-through.
Must’ve been really happy to see a second generation continue the tradition of going to college.
“Sorry, grandma,” he said sheepishly as his elders laughed.
“Alright, everyone, listen up!” his mom clapped her hands. Conversation hushed as dozens of people gave her their attention. “You know where the food is—” she gestured to the backyard where tables had been set up. They greeted that announcement with cheers. A few edged their way toward the sliding doors, including his uncle. “Wait! We’re doing pictures in the living room, so line up if you want one. You can’t eat until you get your picture taken. I’m not having my baby boy sit and wait to eat at his own graduation party.”
“But that’s what’s going to happen,” his sister whispered in his ear.
“Yeah… but what am I gonna do,” he shrugged.
Pictures followed.
Took way too long.
His stomach started grumbling halfway through, but his mom had no chill.
They didn’t stop until the last person that wanted one with him was done.
The smile never left his face.
Hunger was an easy thing to endure when you knew that piles of the best home-cooked food waited. Plus, he had done it. Graduated high school with honors. Headed to university in his major of choice all on a full-ride for football. It wasn’t going to cost his parents a dime. Not that they hadn’t already splurged for his new car, laptop, phone and anything else they thought he might need.
Colin ditched the cap and gown, ditched the tie and rolled up his sleeves to dig into the food.
“C-boy, over here!” his uncle beckoned him over to a table.
Uncles, cousins and other relatives made room to squeeze him in.
“Proud of you!” his uncle slapped him on the back. “So, tell me what you think about them red beans and rice. I tried somethin’ different this time.”
“Thanks, unc!” he took a spoonful. “I don’t know, tastes good as always,” he shrugged.
“Smart and strong, but ain’t got no culinary sense,” his uncle sighed.
“Hey, C,” one of his cousin’s gave him a head nod.
“Sup, Vic, thanks for coming. Didn’t know you were gonna be here.”
“Nah, ain’t gonna miss this. Can’t wait to catch your games next year. You think you gonna get playing time?”
“Don’t know. There’s an all-conference senior… so he’s gonna be the starter.”
“Quincy Byrd,” his cousin nodded.
“Whatcha doin? Scouting?” his uncle laughed.
“You know it, unc!” his cousin grinned. “Wanted to see who’s gonna be in the trenches with my little cuz.”
“Yeah, Quincy’s gonna start, but there isn’t much depth behind him. Just me and another freshman.”
“Colin should get some good playing time,” his father laid a hand on his shoulder.
“C-boy’s got that versatility, can play up and down that line,” his uncle said proudly.
“Don’t you mean left and right, unc,” his cousin teased.
“It’s all the same,” his uncle shrugged, “all in how you flip the picture.”
“I heard you got an offer from Bama?” another cousin said.
“Should’ve gone there, boy,” another uncle grunted. “Bigger school, better connections. Don’t matter if you aren’t going pro.”
“C’mon, Les,” his dad frowned.
“Don’t mean anything by it. Nothing wrong with where the boy decided to go.”
“It wasn’t a full scholarship,” Colin shrugged.
“Les, you just salty you can’t ‘roll tide’,” his uncle said.
“I was just looking forward to free tickets,” Uncle Les said.
“Too bad, Les, guess you gonna be missing out on the next four years,” his uncle said.
“Now, now, let’s not talk crazy. I’d love to go to your games, C-boy. Roll Jaguars!” Uncle Les laughed.
The food, drink and laughter flowed well into the evening.
Colin couldn’t wait to get started with the rest of his life.
----------------------------------------
Early 2021
“Nothing’s coming, right?” Colin said.
“Stop asking, man. You’ll know if something’s coming,” Jalen said.
Colin was underneath his car hurriedly tightening bolts and nuts, reconnecting hoses and making sure nothing in the engine bay would slip loose.
“How’s the reboot coming?” he said to distract himself from the knowledge that they were exposed out in the parking lot. The others were on the opposite side of the dorms fighting to draw the gremlins’ attention.
“It’s coming,” Grady said.
He heard the clacking of fingers on the laptop.
“You nerds even sure this is gonna work?” Jalen said.
“Stop asking. You’ll know if it does.”
College had been great.
He had no complaints.
Even though it had been super busy juggling football, class and trying to talk to girls.
Colin had moved onto campus about a month after his high school graduation party for summer training camp.
He had gone home one last time in the short break between that ending and classes beginning.
After that it had been full-speed ahead.
Good work in practice meant that he had beat out the other freshman to backup the starting left guard.
The coaches were happy with how he had performed the first two months of the season.
His class work was just as good according to his standards.
Nothing worse than a B and he had been really trying his best.
His parents had drilled it into him that his studies were just as important as football. He never knew when an injury could end the latter. Plus, he wasn’t good enough to go pro anyways.
The degree and the connections he made were going to set him up for life.
He was only a little homesick.
The cute girl he had started talking to helped a bit with that.
Still, he had been looking forward to Thanksgiving break to see his family again.
Seeing them at a few home games was good, but it wasn’t the same as really spending time with them.
The world came crashing down.
The spires ruined everything.
Monster attacking him while he was in bed.
Screams throughout the dorm.
Blood.
Desperation.
Death.
So many of his classmates and friends gone.
He had no idea what had happened to many more.
All technology failed in those first weeks.
Phones.
Cars.
Nearly everything.
And yet, while the spires stole, they also gave.
Classes.
He didn’t get it at first.
The nerds in his dorm had to explain.
But he was smart, quick, adaptable.
Kill a tiny gremlin. Go to the spire. Get a class.
Student: Engineer. That was what he had always thought of himself as. Not Athlete: Football like most of his teammates… the ones that survived.
He was mostly fine with that. Magic would’ve been nice. A fireball or magic missile would’ve been better than the lead pipe.
A Skill and instinct gave him an inkling that he had pieces of how to get his car working again.
Before he could get started different monsters appeared outside the dorms.
The first dark nights hid tiny gremlins.
What followed were gremlins as big as people and much more dangerous.
More death.
The cute girl?
All he had found in her dorm room was torn cloth and blood stains.
They had learned the rules at great cost.
Claim structures to keep them safe.
The nerds had been right from the beginning.
But you had to kill worse monsters.
Bosses. True bosses.
They had managed to do that for their dorm even though it cost them.
Now? A few dozen of them remained out of the hundreds in his dorm building alone and they were running out of supplies.
There were other students holding out in other dorms and apartment complexes but contact was sporadic. The spaces between were too dangerous to cross even for armed groups.
Colin took the guts of his car apart and put them back together over the course of a week.
The concept was solid.
He had dismantled and reassembled a solar charger to get juice back into his car battery.
The spires hadn’t been forthcoming.
They wanted Universal Points for everything.
He couldn’t afford to unlock anything beyond the most basic bits of a tutorial.
Who would’ve figured the apocalypse would run on microtransactions?
“I’m done down here,” he pushed himself out from under his car. “Grady?”
“Ninety percent.”
“I hope this shit works,” Jalen said.
“It’ll work. The solar panels work. The batteries work. The lights. The generators—”
“Yo, I get it… sorry, I’m just a little tense, that’s all. Nothing to be worried about. Just the three of us in the middle of the parking lot a hundred yards away from the dorm. Why the fuck did you park all the way out here, C?” Jalen said.
“I’d have parked closer if I knew monsters were gonna happen, fucker!” Colin snapped.
“Calm down, boys,” Grady murmured. “A wise man once said don’t worry about outside shit, just worry about inside shit.”
Colin tried to parse that and failed.
He didn’t have the bandwidth. He had given everything to getting his car running.
Once he did that, he could do the same for a few other cars.
Then he could go home.
His family waited for him.
They had to be.
It had been months, but his dad was a cop. His dad had guns. His dad could keep his mom and sister safe.
He thought of the rest of his family. His grandma, his uncles, aunts, cousins.
Almost everyone had guns and knew how to scrap.
Surely, his dad would’ve gathered everyone together.
Safety in numbers, like him and his classmates.
He tried not to think about how the sound of gunfire was a near constant presence in the days after the spires had appeared. Then it had abruptly stopped. One of the kids in another dorm had claimed that he had picked up a gun from a dead cop, but that it wouldn’t work. It had rounds in the magazine, but when the kid had squeezed the trigger nothing happened.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
He had displayed the gun and rounds as proof.
Colin knew guns.
The glock was in working order. As were the rounds. The primer had been struck.
He had pried the bullet off one and emptied out the powder.
It lit fine with a match.
None of them knew what to make of it.
“Done!” Grady pumped his fist. “Your car’s computer is rebooted.”
“This is why I’m getting my grandpa’s chevelle. None of this computer bullshit,” Jalen said.
Colin took a deep breath and reached into his pocket for the keys.
It was time to find out if his car would start.
Life and death hung in the balance.
----------------------------------------
One Week Later
Colin fought to control the steering wheel and keep his car from slamming into the parked cars on both sides of the street.
One of those damn gremlins had slashed his right rear tire.
He was so close to home.
Just a few more turns.
The silence and emptiness in the suburban tract hadn’t filled him with confidence.
Nevertheless, he still clung to the hope that he was about to see his family.
He hadn’t waited too long before leaving his college.
He had only spent enough time to fix another car while showing his classmates how to do it.
The nerds theorized that it wouldn’t be enough to know how to do it. One needed a class linked to the action. In this case getting a car working again.
Based on his own experience he agreed. It wasn’t enough to have the knowledge and skill, you needed Skills.
That alone wouldn’t have stopped him from leaving.
In the end it turned out to be a moot point.
A couple of the guys he showed what to do picked up a mechanic class and solved the issue.
They had no reason to try to keep him there with people to take his place.
None of his friends or classmates volunteered to go with him.
Not that he had asked.
They had their own families to worry about or they didn’t want to leave the relative safety of the college.
Now that they had a much safer way to go out and gather supplies their prospects didn’t seem as dire.
When he had left they were planning on moving the scattered groups on and around campus closer together.
The gremlins recoiled from the headlights.
It hurt the big ones, but didn’t kill them in seconds like the little ones.
He caught their pale flesh in the mirrors as they gave chase.
“Fuck!”
What the hell was he going to do to get from car to house safely?
What if there was no one there waiting for h—
He shut down the thought.
They had to be—
They had to be okay.
He didn’t know what he would do otherwise.
He threw the car around the corner, barely slowing.
The wounded tire thumped and lurched. Until it finally gave way.
The car’s rear end dropped and an ear-rending screeched assaulted him.
The right rear rim sent sparks flying.
There it was!
Home!
It was in his headlights.
Just like he remembered—
No.
It was different.
A chain-link fence blocked off the front of his home, enclosing the lawn and driveway all the way down to the street.
The car screeched to a halt.
He was out the door before it had fully stopped.
He had to climb.
“Fuck!”
The fence was topped with barbed wire.
There were lit lanterns hanging from the light fixtures on the exterior of the house but the light didn’t quite reach the street.
The gremlins came, snarling, snapping their razor-filled mouths.
He had seen them tear into his classmates.
“Fuck you!” he brandished his trusty lead pipe and a heavy-duty maglite.
The first gremlin reached him.
He shined the light in its face, forcing it to recoil.
He stepped in and put his weight into an overhand swing.
He didn’t have combat Skills, but he was a big, strong, athletic young man.
Teeth went flying, jaw went slack.
The rest reached him.
He waved the flashlight desperately.
The gremlins stayed back, warily.
They tried to circle around the wide beam.
He heard sounds from the other end of the street.
His heart sank.
He knew it well.
Claws on concrete.
So close…
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
The quick retort of an AR-15.
He’d recognized the sound of it anywhere.
Multiple bursts.
Gremlin blood painted the dark street.
“Colin!”
He turned.
“Dad!”
His dad stared at him like he was a ghost for a moment before snapping out of it. “Here!” he pressed a key through the fence into Colin’s chest.
He grabbed it awkwardly while holding on to the pipe.
“I’ll keep them back! Hurry! Unlock the door!” his dad pointed.
The gun barked repeatedly as his dad held the weapon along with a kerosene lantern.
Colin was forced to drop his pipe as he struggled to open the padlock with one hand while sweeping the flashlight across the gathering crowd of gremlins with the other.
Finally, he succeeded and pushed through, hurriedly closing the door and snapping the lock shut.
The gremlins gnashed their teeth and flexed their claws, but stayed back from the lights.
His dad helped him up.
“It’s you, son, Colin!” his dad hugged him tight. “I thought I’d lost you.”
He was happy to return the hug with all his strength.
Eventually, his dad stepped back. “Let me look at you… okay, okay, you look good. Lost some weight.”
Colin regarded his dad.
“You too,” his voice caught in his throat.
His dad’s eyes were sunken with dark, deep bags underneath them. Unkempt curly hair once black, was streaked with gray. As was the wild beard. His dad had been a big man. Thick, barrel-chested and broad-shouldered. An older version of Colin.
Now, his dad looked more like a lanky runner than a stout lineman.
“C’mon, son, let’s get away from these monsters. No matter how many you shoot, more always show up,” his dad spat.
Colin took one last look at the sea of gremlins milling just outside the lights before following his dad inside.
His dad bolted several locks and slid three iron bars across the front door.
The living room was not how he remembered it.
The furniture was gone. Replaced by the power cage, bench and weights that had been in the garage.
The windows were boarded up.
Yellow-orange light flickered, sending their shadows to dance on the walls and ceiling.
“Dad?” he walked into the kitchen.
The table was covered in tools including his father’s reloading stuff.
Was that how his gun still worked?
Just like his car and the computers.
Someone with the right expertise and Skills had to basically take them apart and reassemble them.
It made sense and it didn’t.
Colin thoughts ran away from the one question he feared to ask. Though, it was the most important one to his heart.
The house was quiet.
It wasn’t that late.
His mom wouldn’t have ever allowed his dad to use the kitchen table that way.
It was a place for eating with family, not all their dirty hobbies.
His sister’s room would be shaking from the music and her dancing feet pounding on the floor.
He ran away from questioning why?
“Son,” his dad held him by his shoulders. “I—” his dad struggled with the lump in his throat. “Your mom— sister—”
He closed his eyes, felt his face twist as anguish dripped wet tracks down his cheeks.
“Maya— the first night. It was my fault. Too slow. I killed the gremlins in your mom’s and my room. Too late. Too slow. Didn’t get to Maya’s room before—”
“And mom?” Colin’s mouth formed the words, but he didn’t understand what he was saying. It was like he was watching and listening to a stranger.
“She kept me alive, us, alive for weeks. Kept pushing me. I shut down or I would’ve if it wasn’t for her. I don’t know when it happened. I’ve lost track of days and weeks… months,” his father’s voice was hollow. “My fault again. I didn’t keep your mom safe. We— we—”
“I… I get it. You don’t have to say…”
“No!” his dad snapped. “I mean… sorry… the monsters got her when we went to get food and stuff from the store. It would’ve been before Thanksgiving. She wanted to do a proper one…”
“Mom loves Thanksgiving.”
“She does.”
“Are they… where?”
“I buried them in the backyard. Under the tree.”
“Can I…”
“Tomorrow. It’s not safe at night and I need to conserve ammo. Listen, you hungry? I’ve got some— it’s not your mom’s cooking, but—”
“Thanks, Dad, but I’ll pass. I’m just glad your alive.”
“Same here, son. Not knowing how you were was the only thing keeping me going.”
Colin collapsed into the kitchen table chair.
He stared at nothing, trying to remember the last moments he had spent with his mom and sister.
His dad joined him in silence.
----------------------------------------
Months Later
Colin and his father were alone.
Their family was either dead or missing, which was as good as former.
He had fixed his dad’s truck and they had used it in a fruitless search for them or any other survivors.
His grandmother. His uncles. Aunts. Cousins.
Some had made it past the first night, only to die in the subsequent weeks.
Some, like his grandma, the only sign of her fate that his dad had discovered was the blood-soaked bed in her house.
Some left no traces in their homes and apartments.
Colin spent most of time in the garage. He had converted it into a workshop with equipment looted from a dozen different places.
He pushed his welding mask up and laid down the thin rods to grab a quick drink from the kitchen.
“How’s it coming along?” his dad was busy with his own project, which was reloading ammo.
The story was that his dad could’ve picked up a police officer class, but went with the generic fighter and gunsmith. The way he had explained it was that being a cop was just a job. The best he could get at the time that would allow him to take care of his wife and soon to be born son. His dad held no illusions about the job, but it had a good salary, benefits and a pension. He just kept his head down, stayed away from the rampant corruption and tried not to make waves so that he wouldn’t get hurt in any training ‘accidents’.
The latter two, well, he fought the gremlins and he tinkered with guns as one of his hobbies. Fisherman was an option, but useless for his situation.
“Finishing up the right leg frame. Once I do the left we can start testing it.”
“It’s hard to believe what your making with your Skills,” his dad frowned.
“Spells would’ve been more useful.”
“That’s even harder to believe.”
“C’mon, Dad…”
His dad raised a hand. “No, I believe you. The spires said it. Skills and magic. Well, I’m amazed that you built tiny, light and powerful motors for that exoskeleton of yours. Your mom would’ve been disgruntled to find out that those video games you used to play amounted to something.”
A shadow descended on his dad’s face.
Just like his.
“It’s not that big of a deal.”
“No, son, always be humble, but let others give you credit when it’s due. Our garage might not be a cave, but you did build something awesome with a box of scraps,” his dad smiled.
He tried to return it.
“It won’t be like that. My calculations are putting it at about fifty pounds for carrying capacity. I still have to work out the machine gun rig.”
“That’s nothing to sneeze at. That’s a lot of ammo and gear we wouldn’t be able to ruck around normally. We just have to find a machine gun. It’s a trip to the closest army base.”
“I might be able to make one. I can probably use the AR as a base and scale it up. I’ve got all the design programs I need on my laptop.” Courtesy of Grady as an exchange for his own work on the cars.
“Can you rig a frame for something like steel plates? Like, old school armor. Bulletproof vests are better than nothing, but those gremlins don’t use guns.”
“Like knights and shit, yeah,” he nodded, “I already did, but I don’t know how to make armor, so the best I could do was build spots where we can attach stuff to the frame.”
“There’s bomb disposal gear at the station. It’s way too hot, heavy and cumbersome as it is, but do you think you could take it apart and use it as armor for your exoskeleton?”
“Yeah, I mean, there’s no reason not to try. Aside from the problem of actually getting it.”
“I think we can do it.”
Time flowed forward. Simultaneously slow and fast.
Colin’s exoskeleton improved with each iteration.
Tiny motors that output more power than they would have in the world before physics-breaking Skills.
Metal tubes that materially improved after being worked in his Skill-backed hands.
An agonizing move from their home to Colin’s college finally took place.
Neither wanted to leave a wife and daughter, a mother and sister.
Fate forced their hand.
Encounter Challenges became Spawn Zones and they couldn’t handle those by themselves.
Colin’s college was populated.
Some faces he knew were missing, but they had been replaced by others and more.
Hundreds.
He expanded his knowledge. His class. His skills and Skills.
Grady and the other computer nerds had regained access to the university’s databases.
Colin dived back into the track he was on before the apocalypse while adding new disciplines to serve his new goals.
Metamaterials. Robotics. Artificial muscles. And more.
He had even entered the field of human anatomy and biology.
The nerds had the right ideas.
Why limit himself to what he had previously learned about the boundaries of science when magic and Skills bent and broke the rules?
----------------------------------------
Years Later
Disaster struck.
“Dad! Dad! Don’t leave me, please!” he pleaded as he ran alongside the stretcher, feeling the strength in his father’s remaining hand slowly fade.
The other side of his dad’s body was half gone. The lower leg. The entire arm. A chunk of the upper torso down to the waist and upper thigh. Everything had been ripped or sheared off.
There was so much blood.
He focused on his dad’s remaining eye, trying not to look at the ruined side of his face, willing his dad to cling to his life.
“Don’t give up, Dad! I can fix this. Remember what I was telling you about! I can do it! I just need you to hold on!”
He felt his dad’s big mitt squeeze.
So weak.
“Colin! Colin!” Dr. Schwartz snapped. “You can’t be in here.”
He was in the emergency wing.
It was only then that he realized several people around him were trying to push him back.
He let go, hoping that wasn’t the final goodbye.
“Colin—”
“Dr. Schwartz, you have to keep him alive. I’ve got stuff. I just need to get them.”
“Go, Colin,” the old woman sighed. “We’ll do what we can.”
He rushed back to his workshop.
The next few hours were a frantic blur.
He didn’t notice that several people had entered.
“What is it?” his eyes widened. “My dad—”
“You need to see him, before it’s too late,” Delia, the leader of the civilian side of their community, gave him a sympathetic look.
“But, I told Dr. Schwartz—” he hadn’t noticed the small, old woman standing next to Delia. “What’re you doing here? You should be keeping my dad alive,” his eyes narrowed.
“We are, but he’s fading. He shouldn’t even have lasted this long. You understand? One lung gone. Almost all his internal organs, catastrophic trauma.”
“He’s a fighter, over Level 30. He’s got Skills that let him go past his limits,” he explained.
How did she not know this?
“I’m sorry, Colin,” Delia said. “Yes, those allowed him to hold on instead of dying immediately, but time’s running out and you need to go say your goodbyes.”
“No, fuck that!” he gestured to his workshop. “I can fix it. I just need more time. Don’t you have Skills to keep him alive longer?” he eyed Dr. Schwartz.
“Yes, but I have to prioritize patients with the best chances of survival,” Dr. Schwartz said.
“Look, I just need you to keep him alive so I can finish these machines that will keep him alive while I work on better stuff.”
Delia’s gaze sharpened. She cut the doctor’s protest off. “Your work? What will it do for your dad?”
“Save his life!” he snapped.
Nothing else mattered.
“Will he be forced to live in this… machine?” Delia said.
“At first, but I’m confident that I can get him back on his feet… eventually. I don’t have time to explain, okay? Just— I’m going to build him a new arm and legs.”
“You’re not listening, Colin,” Dr. Schwartz said softly. “His internal organs should’ve stopped functioning the moment those monsters did that to him.”
“No, you’re not listening! That doesn’t matter. I can replace them all with machinery.”
“That’s—”
“Not impossible, doctor. Nothing’s impossible. Not anymore. I just need time, please.”
The doctor wavered. Then she steeled herself. “I’m sorry, Colin. I have an oath. And a class now. I can’t choose to prolong his life at the expense of another more likely to make it.”
“What if I make it an order?” Delia said.
“You can’t—”
“Sorry, Dr. Schwartz. Luther is our best fighter and our combat leader. I don’t speak in hyperbole when I say that Mr. Collins is the single, most important factor in our community surviving this long.”
“Ma’am,” Colin blinked. He had just remembered something. They were still in a battle for their lives. Those creepy, floating gray-skinned bastards had come out of nowhere and attacked. They had nearly killed his dad with some kind of invisible force. “The monsters?”
“All dead or gone,” Delia said. “I’m still parsing through the reports, but it appears that two guys and a girl came out of the sky. Human-looking. One of the guys was observed in multiple locations running really fast and jumping really high. He, uh, smashed the gray monsters while seemingly being unaffected by their attacks. A report on the girl suggested she used magic in the shape of those black birds, but bigger and apparently she also had a literal black bird, much bigger, helping her out. As for the second guy,” she shrugged. “I’m waiting to find out more, but it’s looking like they didn’t stick around.”
“So, we’re safe?” he scarcely believed.
In his concern for his dad he had completely forgotten they were in the middle of a fight for their lives.
“For the moment, but we lost a lot of good men and women, which is why, Dr. Schwartz, I want you to use all of your abilities, your best Skills, to help Colin save his father.”
Delia didn’t say that she wanted Luther back and still useful.
Colin knew his dad. He wouldn’t want to live a life in bed hooked up to a bunch of machinery.
“This is nothing against you or your dad, Colin, but I only do this under protest,” Dr. Schwartz said.
“I understand, doctor, but I don’t care what you want. Just do your best. Now, please leave. I need to build.”