Tolbert sat up with a jolt smacking his head into an overhanging piece of rubble. OW, that hurt. Coming fully awake from the pain tearing through his head, he surveyed the area. Where am I? He lay under a slab of concrete; his rifle sat out in the sun three metres from him. Where is the soldier? Why is this only happening to me?
He began sliding out to get the gun when he heard a chirp. He froze… his face as white as a sheet. Reptilian legs came into view; a happy chirping sound followed.
Not them again. I must find a way out of this. I need help.
The reptile stopped and looked at the rifle. After nuzzling it, checking to see if it was food, it moved on.
Tolbert waited while he counted out a minute in his head and then gingerly slid out from under the concrete slab. Arising, he dusted off his leather getup and realigned his Stetson. As he took a step towards the rifle, his spurs jangled.
Tolbert froze. He looked around for any sign of a returning raptor. Then he carefully lowered himself down and removed the spurs from each of his boots and set them aside. Quietly, he tiptoed across to the rifle and picked it up.
Tolbert then set off down the narrow avenue cautiously listening for every sound that he made. Rounding a corner Tolbert discovered the body of a woman lying against a wall. A plain longsword rested on her knees.
Tolbert chuckled at the corpse. Surely that sword did her no good. Then he noticed that sitting next to the corpse was a decapitated head of a troll, sitting in a small pool of dried blood. She killed a troll.
Tolbert picked up the sword and scabbard in disbelief and attached it to his belt. Hitching the rifle to his back, he drew the sword and swung it around, getting a feel for the blade. It was a simple blade and well balanced, from what he could tell. If guns don’t work, then maybe a sword will help. What can I lose?
A roar came from down the road. Tolbert froze in mid-swing and turned his head to look at the source of the roar.
Standing under a broken streetlight was a dragon, ten feet tall, and covered from head to toe in black scales. It stood on four squat legs with the dragon’s diamond head at the end of a long neck.
Besides, the black creature there were three green trolls. One of the trolls had spotted Tolbert and had sounded the alarm. As the echo of the roar died down, the other trolls turned.
The dragon lazily turned its head and gazed at Tolbert. The dragon’s eyes were enormous orbs that swirled with colour.
As the dragon turned its body to face Tolbert, a warm sense of welcome flowed into Tolbert’s mind. The colours in the dragon’s eyes changed from a dominant blue to a yellow in colour. Tolbert remained fixed in place, his hands going limp at his side and a smile of wonder alighting his face. Gazing at the dragon he sighed contentedly.
The dragon ambled up to where Tolbert stood, never taking his eyes off him. Once upon him, the dragon opened its mouth and swallowed Tolbert whole. The dragon allure hadn’t given Tolbert a chance to fight a dragon head-on.
A pale lady stood under an unbroken door, her face creased into a gleeful smile as she winked out of existence.
Did subject alpha even know what hit him?
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Striker returned and looked at the shop door he had stepped into. It was ‘Swords Knives and Daggers’.
If the lances worked on the trolls, I think a sword of my own would be helpful.
Entering the shop, he spied an old Asian man sitting behind the display counter reading, but who looked up at Striker’s entrance. The shop was covered from wall to wall in various sizes of everything from a paring knife to a great bastard sword hanging in an ornate case behind the man sitting at the counter.
“Welcome,” the man smiled. “You buy?”
Striker smiled back, looking over the selection of swords. Striker looked up. The bastard sword was the only thing that was close to what he had used in Dragon Hunt.
The old man noticed his gaze and reflected, “Very beautiful sword.”
“Yes, it is,” responded Striker. “Can I hold it, please?”
“Sure, sure,” he agreed, lowering the sword for Striker.
The heft of the blade was perfect. Testing the edge, he found it blunt.
“I need it sharpened,” Striker muttered to himself.
“I can. You pay extra?”
Striker grabbed the tag hanging at the hilt. His eyes widened; it was cheaper than he had expected.
“Deal,” Striker agreed, returning the sword.
The shop owner took it and stepped out back to sharpen the blade.
Upon his return, Striker paid the man and carried the sword on his back, in a scabbard provided by the shop.
Striker returned to the bridge and crossed. On the other side, the destruction was obvious. The lightning strikes had created huge craters in the roads. Buildings had collapsed into each other, creating roadblocks and dead ends. The empty streets were eerily quiet. The silence was broken only by the occasional scream or roar. Not everyone had completely turned, it seemed. Striker pulled out the address he had for Tolbert and checked the map on his smartphone. He still had to cover several blocks.
A rumble of a car engine down the street alerted him to the presence of people. He rushed off to investigate.
Striker turned to the next street to find several people piling into a car that was overloaded with possessions. A grizzled man in a grey suit and a two-day growth of black beard on his face pointed a shotgun at him. Striker raised his hands to show he was non-threatening.
The man laughed when he saw the sword on Striker’s back and lowered the gun.
“You guys running or looting?” Striker questioned.
The grizzled man stopped laughing suddenly. “What you going to do about it?” he growled, raising the gun at Striker again. Tinned food and working electronics were pilled into neat stacks ready for packing.
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“Nothing,” Striker placated. “Just wondering if I have to keep an eye out for you again. I am looking for someone that used to live around here.”
“Did your friend live here?” the grizzled man asked, again lowering the gun.
“No,” Striker answered. “A couple of blocks to the south.”
“Well, everyone here is either dead or turned.”
“Oh, okay. Would you know how I can get south? All the roads so far have been blocked off,” Striker queried.
“No,” returned the grizzled man. “I checked them all, and they are all blocked. You might try the subways. A mate of mine said that some of the subways were working even after the big storm,” he offered.
“Is the nearest one still open?”
“Last I checked,” he reflected as he climbed into the overloaded sedan. “Hope you find your friend, and I hope she is worth it.”
His comment elicited a cackle of laughter from the others in the car. Striker took his first look at them. They were all a little rough looking and all in high spirits. Two women and one man. A lithe woman with black hair tied into a neat ponytail sat behind the steering wheel. The two in the back looked to Tolbert to be younger.
“The last time anyone went into the subways, they were never heard from again,” rasped the woman in the front seat.
“Thanks for your vote of confidence,” called Striker as they drove away.
He started off down the road. His map smartphone informed him that the subway entrance was at the next intersection. Striker weighed the stranger’s words as he ambled down the street.
A loud roar to his left broke the quiet. Standing above the entrance to the subway tunnel were two trolls. A pack of raptors scratched at the rubble.
Striker drew his huge sword and swung it before him. The sound of horses to his right attracted Striker’s attention. Striker stepped into a broken doorway and watched as the knights formed up.
The trolls and the raptors all turned and faced the assembling knights.
The knights’ lowered their lances as they formed up. At a signal from the commander, they charged. As they closed on the monsters, the monsters charged back. The knight’s momentum drove them over the raptors. The raptors ran forward and were either impaled on the knights lowered lances or crushed under the hooves of the horses.
The two trolls then collided with the knights.
The Knights dropped their broken lances and drew their broadswords. The armoured knights wheeled and split up.
The green trolls skidded to a stop.
They formed a circle around the trolls, swords at the ready.
The monsters stood back to back, facing the knights.
The commander raised his sword, and the knights moved towards the trolls.
Roaring the trolls counterattacked. They unseated two knights and started pummelling the downed knights.
The other men converged on the trolls and started slashing, cutting off limbs.
The overwhelming blood loss forced the trolls to turn and face the other knights. The trolls had run out of blood, they keeled over, dead.
The knights’ commander dismounted and checked the warriors who had been unhorsed. He raised the visor of each in turn, confirming they were dead. After saying a short prayer for the fallen, he mounted his horse, and they reformed and moved away down the avenue.
Striker smiled at the disappearing column of knights and silently thanked them for clearing the way to the subway. He hefted the bastard sword and dashed for the subway entrance. The subway awaited, and the adventure therein.
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Sword in hand, Striker moved down the stairs, not making a sound. He pressed his back against the wall and peered around the corner.
The subway station was empty. The flickering of the light gave Striker a glimpse of the layout; the station started at a ticket point at the bottom of the small flight of stairs. Striker pulled out his phone, turned on the flashlight function, and proceeded down the stairs. He stepped through the turnstile and jumped down onto the track, his flashlight playing across the walls.
He continued to walk along the tracks until he came to the next station. Halfway along with the next station, a subway train lay crushed under a collapsed roof. In the driver’s cab, a skeleton sat wedged under the door that had crumbled under the weight of the collapsed roof. A warble came from further down the subway station and was followed by the skittering of rocks.
Striker’s flashlight swept across the station strewn with human bones, all chewed and gnawed, and landed on a raptor looking at him from up on the platform. Its eyes glinted in the light as it jumped at Striker.
Striker stepped back and the raptor landed a metre from him. The raptor dashed at Striker, and he blocked with the sword.
Dazed the raptor stepped back.
Striker stepped forward closing the distance and stabbed with the sword.
The raptor ducked at the last second, causing the sword to pass over its head.
Sweat broke out on Striker’s brow as the raptor stepped forward and head-butted him in his bulging belly. Striker landed on his back.
The raptor stepped up to him and placed a foot on Strikers chest. It looked down at him and opened its mouth exposing rows of razor-sharp teeth.
I am not going to let you kill me. Striker brought up his hand and hit the raptor in the side of the head, sending it flying across the tracks. Striker arose as the raptor attacked again. Sword collided with the head as Striker tried to block. The sword cut through the raptor’s mouth and sheared off its head, killing the creature. Striker a little shaken up, left the bleeding remains of the raptor behind, scrambled up to the platform and then up to daylight.
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Tolbert woke up in his bed. The familiar surroundings would have been a comfort if not for the devastation. Okay, try to avoid the notice of a dragon. They don’t play fair. The room was a complete disaster, clothes and belongings were scattered all across the floor. A large piece of concrete had crashed through the north-facing wall creating an unexpected exit. A cold wind blew in through the impromptu door.
Tolbert got up and dressed, elated at the first time in several days that he could wear something other than his boxer shorts. He chose black jeans and a t-shirt. I need to find someone who can help me. Who would be able to help me? Is this a real-world issue? Am I able to survive any type of death? If this is a huge game played on me, then how do I get out? Why is this even happening to me? All I know is that creatures from the games Dragon Hunt and Space Traders seem to have invaded New York. Or is this yet another game? But first I need a weapon.
Tolbert searched through the ruins and found his trophy sword. He smiled as he strapped it onto his back, a genuine fourteenth-century katana. Tolbert checked the unit for a way out. He peered out the door and looked down the five stories to the ground. But he searched and found a way to scale down the outside of the building.
Reaching the ground, Tolbert picked a direction at random. Any direction is as good as another. At the moment I need people to help me, but I am unsure of what type of people I need. As he headed out, his stomach growled, reminding him that he had not eaten in several days. Casting about for something to eat, Tolbert spied a convenience store.
He hurried over, the stench of off milk and other rotting food wafted over him, was so nauseating that Tolbert dry wretched, the door hung open how long has this game been running for? Inside he could see the curdled remains of dairy products, and the festering remains of meat products. Holding his breath, he stepped inside and grabbed any non-perishable foodstuffs. Tolbert quickly exited the store with his gain and began munching on a collection of chips and sweets, that was a little stale, Tolbert continued to walk along the road.
A bellow of rage halted Tolbert in his tracks. Ahead of Tolbert stood a dragon engaging in a pitched battle with a group of slugs.
They are fighting each other. What over? As he drew near, the remains of several trolls and several other slugs could be seen. Other smaller engagements surrounded the dragon; trolls, pounding at the ground to destroy swarming beetles, and slugs trying to grab hold of the raptors.
Tolbert stepped into the shadows of another fallen building and watched. He didn’t know which side to go for. He knew that if either side won, he would die. Tolbert considered his options. He could go around, but he wasn’t sure how large this battle was. He crept around the outside of the battle, keeping himself as close to the wall as possible, sword drawn.
A raptor collided violently against the wall, sliding down the wall, and landing on its feet dazed. Tolbert didn’t hesitate; he ran it through, killing it. If anything came close to him, he was going to kill it. The fear in his mind dissipated like fog before the sun. He had died several times; why should he be afraid of it?
The dragon bit down hard on the last surviving slug that opposed it. The tide of the battle was drawing near to an end.
Tolbert redoubled his pace to be clear of them before the distractions are all dealt with.
As the battle died down, Tolbert made it past the last of the combatants. He breathed a sigh of relief and felt a wave of nausea as he noticed the victors began feasting on the remains.
A questioning chirp echoed from behind Tolbert. He wasted no time and spun around. Swinging the katana, he decapitated the head of the raptor that was behind him.
He had made it; he had escaped. A wave of relief swept through Tolbert. He had survived an encounter without dying. Leaving the feasting creatures, Tolbert trotted off down the avenue, still trying to find someone who could help him.