Gramps had stayed with me, silently judgey, as usual, and Lena found us again, this time with an actual rope.

“How’d you have rope here?”

She shrugged, “It’s the end of the world, why wouldn’t you need rope?”

I shrugged back and raised my hands, “Fair enough, I’m not complaining.”

I slid the door open and we piled and twisted some desks around themselves before tying the rope through them and dropping it out of the window. I gave it some tugs and it seemed pretty secure.

I climbed up to straddle the window-sill and… didn’t feel great about it. It was a long 15 feet to the ground. With my shotgun, it was even tougher to manage. I cracked it then slipped it through my backpack straps across my chest and it managed to be incredibly uncomfortable and unwieldy, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to drop it or trust anyone to throw it down to me afterwards. I let myself down hand after foot, stopping for a bit as it shifted a couple of inches, then climbing the rest of the distance.

“Lena! The hell are you doin’? Get back here right now!”

I looked up and sighed. Great.

“You should just go back.”

“You’ll need someone to watch your back and…”

And Gramps would have just pulled the rope back up. Well, that’s what struck me at least. Probably didn’t want me banging his granddaughter. I mean I wasn’t going to, but fair enough, I wouldn’t want some wanderer banging my granddaughter either. I mean, that said, I thought I was a pretty alright guy and I was getting tempted to start getting offended about it.

She dropped to the ground next to me and grinned. “Don’t be so happy, let’s get moving.”

She asked, “What about the rope?” but I was already making my way toward the antique shop. I could see it from where I was.

We moved down the street, quickly and relatively quietly toward ‘Darling’s Antiques’. The old sign was right in front of us and as we approached the storefront itself, I heard snarls from inside and crashing. I felt the tension rise in me. I had assumed it was just a general tense-ness, but now that I was closer, it was clear.

“Shit. My Nemesis.”

“Your what?!”

“Shhhh! Shut up. There’s some wolf that traded its soul or something to become my Nemesis.”

“Is that because you killed his family?”

“Her family, but yes.” Seeing the look on her face, “It’s not like they gave me a fucking choice. Just take your gun out and don’t shoot me in the back.”

I thought more about it, any gunshots would bring backup and not backup for us. “Just don’t shoot at all unless you’re going to die, we don’t want to bring more zombies to us. Lena! Did you hear me?”

She nodded. “Don’t be stupid,” I told her again before I went in, shotgun raised and leading the way. The thrashing and sounds of fighting echoed through the trashed store out from the back.

The fuck happened here?

I moved through the store, keeping an eye out on my surroundings. I was looking for a sword… so maybe it was part of some dusty antique suit of armor? That’d be sweet. I’d take the whole fucking thing.

I refocused and moved toward the back of the store. It was a complete mess, shit was scattered everywhere. I looked back and Lena was there as well.

“Look for a sword.”

“And other useful stuff?”

Why was she asking me?

“Yeah sure, whatever. Sword first.”

I moved toward the door leading to the back. The thumps were quieting down and… I realized that coming into a battle after it had concluded probably wasn’t as good as arriving in the thick of it.

I sped up and shouldered the door open. It got stuck, then slammed against me as it burst open. I hit the ground but managed to keep the shotgun in my hands. It saved my life as it held the snarling, snapping jaws of my Nemesis away from my face.

Fuck, not this shit again. It was way stronger than last time. But, so was I.

I dug deep, my desire to live, to find my parents, to survive to the end of this and maybe, hopefully, be able to see Duck again at the end of all of this shit. This vengeful fucking mutt that tried to prey on me when I was near helpless and blind. I was forced to kill its entire family or they would have gleefully killed and feasted on me. The one I spared and to pay me back for that charity, I would be chased and hunted forever? Fuck. No.

“Fuck! You!”

Fortitude stiffed me and I Willed it to hurt this beast, to get it away from me. There was a point where I could have held back, but I was too in my feelings at this point. I pumped every scrap of Fortitude into it and blasted it with every scrap and point of Fortitude I had. At least this time, I noticed that I had more of a choice on how much to put into it. The unattuned blast sounded like a claymore. It was silent, but everything blown away from me in an Unattuned cone of force didn’t have the same obligation. Metal and glass and whatever else was caught in it blasted around the room, the shadow-wolf was launched into the roof and skidded half in half out of it until it punched through the wall where it met the ceiling and into another room.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

I laid my head back, I hoped that did it. If it didn’t? Well, dang I tried at least. Some part of my brain was painfully aware that I shouldn’t be laying down here, that there were likely zombies on their way, that the wolf wasn’t dead, hopefully it was, but I knew it wasn’t. All those reasons that kept the fire inside of me lit seemed… so distant. Impossible really. Easier just to lay here until I was feeling better. If I lived, I lived, if I died, I-

“Tom! Get up!”

I struggled to open my eyes, “Hey Lena, nah I think I’m good just laying here for a bit.”

“What are you talking about? You need to get up! I found a sword, let’s go!”

I spared the effort to look at her hand, she was holding a thin, cavalry saber? I was hoping for an arming-sword or a long sword or something. Not some… military dress sword. It looked old. I guess it was close enough.

“Cool, thanks. Just leave it, I don’t know, somewhere next to me.”

She slapped me and when I didn’t bother turning my head back, she did it for me, “Wake up! What the hell is going on with you? Get! Up!”

She tried pulling me up, but I knew it was pointless for her to try. It was obvious, she weighed like 100 pounds and change and I weighed, much more than that. Plus, I didn’t feel like helping her. She was getting a bit annoying, trying to pull me out of the room by my arms.

“Can you stop already? It’s Fortitude, I used mine and I just want to lay here so can you pleaseeee fuck off!”

Exhausting. Even bothering to explain that much drained what little energy I had left. Sleep sounded nice.

She yelled some words like she had figured something out then put her hands on my shoulders and nothing happened. No, that wasn’t right, something happened. I felt a little bit more like moving. She did it again and again and then I saw her droop a bit then I swatted her hands away, “Thanks. I’m glad you took that Skill.”

She was sweating but smiling, “Yeah I remember what you said about it being your mana tank. I didn’t know that it being low affected you like that though.”

I picked up the sword she had found while my eyes kept darting over the room, “Yeah I… I probably should have mentioned that, there’s a lot to keep track of in the apocalypse.”

I pulled it out of its scabbard, it was a straight blade, even if it was a bit on the thin side. I flicked the edge, surprisingly sharp, so were the sides. It looked old and the leather of the scabbard was dry. Metal bands wrapped around it seemed to help. It was also still attached to a thick leather belt, “Watch my back.”

I unbuckled it then put it around my waist. Not perfect considering I was still wearing my belt and holster, but better than carrying it in hand. I pulled the sword back out and it felt… good in my hand. It was light, lighter than I would have preferred, but I was impressed. I thought it might have been a World War I cavalry saber and had been forged rather than stamped.

So was forging what made it count as a Ren Faire weapon? I could imagine Casey thinking of every single sword and weapon she possibly could have when Gabriel was making this Skill to make up for the crap Law of Averages. It could be that or maybe it was the fact that it was forged versus stamped that made the difference. Even both, I didn’t know though, but either way, I’d take it. I gave it a few test swings, brought it into a few guards. It was like I had enough of a skill base with wielding the weapon to be able to improvise a bit when using it. I didn’t feel like a master with the thing, but I figured I could hold off a shadow Nemesis wolf for a bit and cause some damage. Just a bit more than required to be more dangerous to an enemy than myself.

That was good because it came through the door at that moment. I saw the shotgun on the floor and knew I wouldn’t be able to reach it before it would be on me again. It wasn’t without hope though, the wolf looked pretty wounded and was leaking black blood from several parts of its torn fur.

I drew the .38 and, in the same motion I raised it and fired, then more shots joined mine as the wolf started strafing and breaking our sightlines with the store’s displays that weren’t already shattered. It was bad news and made me glad I didn’t choose the gunslinging class. The bullets that hit didn’t look like they were doing anything, if much at all. I reassured myself that it was doing some damage. It kept circling the store until Lena’s gun went dry.

*Click* *Click* *Click*

I had saved a shot for a cleaner hit. The wolf finished its strafe, circled and darted toward… Lena. Shit. I fired my last shot which impacted and bought me a second while my nemesis twitched. I dropped the pistol before I jerked Lena out of the way and stabbed my sword where I thought the she-bitch’s face would be. It missed but bit into a missing patch of fur by its neck instead. The wolf landed and jerked to the side, threatening to twist the sword out of my hand. I ripped it out as it landed then, not giving a moment’s delay, the wolf darted to take out Lena who had been thrown partway to the floor.

I jumped between her and kept the point of the sword threatening the she-bitch’s face.

“Your nose stop working, she-bitch?”

The wolf stopped and took a deep sniff before our shifting stalemate continued.

She jumped and I stabbed out. She twisted her head to avoid being blinded and I slammed my shoulder into her exposed neck, knocking her back.

“Lena! Get the shotgun, she’s going to be coming for you.”

I heard her scramble and pick it up behind me. I took rough, sharp claws to my upper arm that scraped deep into my flesh before I viciously rammed the pommel into its eye and created enough space to threaten a slash that forced some more distance from the wolf.

I had the realization that I was lucky it was trying to kill me, not wound me, because if its claws could cut that deep into my skin, then I really didn’t want to know what would have happened if it had decided to bite my arm instead of going for kill-bites on me.

“Tom, move! I’m ready to shoot!”

I didn’t really trust her, nor did I trust what I’d seen the extent of the wolf’s speed to be the extent of it. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Lena to purposefully shoot me in the back, I wasn’t worried about that, but I had been watching the edges of the wolf’s fur melt into the particularly deeper shadows around the unlit room.

For Lena, I didn’t trust her capabilities, not her intentions. If I moved and she was too slow or if I moved and she missed; I wasn’t ready to have this she-bitch murder someone in front of me, much less someone who had just saved my life. I felt my Internal Fortitude rise in response to my resolve.

So, the game continued, the maneuvering, the adjusting, keeping myself between Lena and the wolf.

It must have only been 10 minutes, and that’s at most, but likely not even half as long. The time that actually passed was closer to an Age and a half. I started collecting wounds as they piled on as the constant tension started to get to me. My moves were getting too twitchy, overly-responsive, and any semblance of smoothness that I had possessed at the start was draining away as prolonged tension sat heavier and heavier on my shoulders.

*BLAM*

I twitched and jumped at the sound, then panicked as I realized that the wolf would take advantage of it. It probably would have if it wasn’t busy being launched to the side with an ear itching yelp-growl. It snarled toward the door and I looked along with my Nemesis. Fucking Gramps, good man.

“Lena, shoot it!”

She was startled too, apparently, because her shot came late as the wolf melted into the shadows behind the counter. *BLAM*, the wooden counter exploded into splinters

The wolf was already past it, it hit the door, another *BLAM* followed it.

The second shot violently expanded the doorway, but it didn’t kill the wolf, that I knew. I could feel it even before I heard the whimpering, retreating yelps of pain. Wounded badly, but alive. Shit, it was gone.

“Should we go after it?”

I kept my eye on the door and considered the swiftly retreating Nemesis-sensation. Follow it into the overgrown forest? “No, it’s gone.”