For some reason, Ivan's group had elected him the leader. They didn’t outright say it, but they followed him around like bright yellow ducklings, so he just went with it and headed south towards the tacos. As they walked, another member of the group broke the ice, a dark brown man with a bushy beard.
“My name’s Ahmed. How bout you guys?”
“I’m Clair.” The girl in question twirled her long blonde hair in her finger, around and around as her other hand was occupied clutching a pink purse hanging off her shoulder.
Ahmed nodded. “Nice to meet you, Clair. And how about you?” He gestured to the last member of their party, a white guy in a stained white tank top with a bear belly poking out the bottom.
“The names John.” He said, his mouth mangling the words and his alcoholic breath reaching Ivan from where he stood.
Ivan did not like John.
“And don’t you guys worry!” John pulled out a revolver from his waistband. “I picked Ranger. Hehe! With this puppy here, I’ll smoke any fools who come up on us.”
Ivan glanced at the gun, then turned forward again and kept walking. He wanted that gun.
Ahmed laughed nervously and turned to Ivan. “And what about you? Ivander, right?”
Ivan nodded. “Yes. What are your paths?”
There was a pause in the conversation until Ahmed continued. “I’m an alchemist.”
“And I’m a trader." Clair supplied.
“Hmm.” Ivan hummed. That wasn’t good. Although for right now it didn’t really matter. They were all basically just normal humans still, so the paths wouldn't make much of a difference. Actually, he should check himself out. And no, he doesn’t mean in a mirror.
Ivan took a deep breath and remembered back to when he did this the first time and breathed out his essence. Blue mist poured from his mouth and pooled in front of his eyes, condensing into letters and numbers. He supposed it was his essence, but it felt more like a status page. Perhaps he should just call it that.
//
Name: Ivander Nettlewald
Titles: None
Cultivation: None
Path: Warrior-l (3)
Dao Marks: None
Soul Roots: 3 Basic
Extraordinary Physique: None
Bloodline: None
Blessing: None
Status:
* Constitution(Con): 6/6
* Stamina(Sta): 7/8
* Essence(Ess): 9/9
Stats:
* Vitality(Vit): 5
* Vigor(Vig): 3
* Spirit(Spi): 10
* Might(Mig): 7
* Agility(Agi): 4
* Sturdiness(Stu): 6
* Willpower(Wil): 7
* Comprehension(Com): 6
* Charm(Cha): 1
Techniques: None
//
Hmmm. This looked good. His stamina, might, and sturdiness had each gone up by 3. Although his stamina was 7/8. Did that mean he was tired? Now that he thought about it, he had been doing a lot of stuff.
A well-timed grumble from his stomach also reminded Ivan that he was hungry as shit. He hadn’t eaten yet, and it had been a number of hours since this crap started.
Seeing a gas station up ahead, he diverted his path towards it. When he got to the sliding glass doors, he used the butt of his spear to wack it. The glass shattered with a crash, and he carefully stepped into the store, glass crunching beneath his sick yellow and red Sadidan shoes.
He walked through the small aisles until he came across some beef jerky and a chocolate bar with hazelnuts in it. He also grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler that wasn’t so cool anymore without power.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
The others followed him out of the store, each with their own snacks in hand. Ivan unwrapped his chocolate bar first and gobbled it down in a few bites, then threw the wrapper on the ground.
“Hey. You can’t litter.” Clair looked at him in shock.
“Why not?”
“Wha- cause it’s littering!”
Ivan shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t care.” Maybe if it were before, he would throw it in a trash can. But right now? When there were big hungry animals and undead walking around? Fuck that. And now that he thought about it, what would happen to the nuclear energy plants? With suddenly no power, would they explode?
Meh. No use worrying about that.
The group continued on their way, Ivan looking out for the taco place until he finally noticed the big red sign with the taco place's name written on it in bold white letters. ‘Taco Place’. Pretty self-explanatory.
He turned left, and soon enough, Antlerier was in sight with a couple of ATV’s parked out front with prices taped on them. Ivan's pace increased as he made his way under the large antlers at the entrance and into the store proper.
Ivan rubbed his hands together in anticipation. When he had come here before, it was mostly to just look around at all the awesome stuff. All the cool stuff here used to be out of his budget, and he couldn't justify it to himself to buy anything he wasn’t even going to use. But now he could steal it, and he had a use for it. To kill stuff!
A loud ting rang out, like metal falling on stone, and Ivan brought his spear up. He looked behind himself at the others and saw them standing there like they’d just been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Hey.” He whispered. “Grab a weapon.”
That managed to get them moving at least. Ahmed grabbed a hatchet, and Clair grabbed a pocket knife from her purse.
“Are you stupid?!” Ivan hissed quietly. “Get something bigger!”
Clair, wide-eyed, rapidly nodded her head and grabbed another hatchet from the shelf.
John looked ready enough, with his gun held out, aiming at the back of Ivan's head. That idiot. Ivan moved over so John wouldn't shoot him accidentally.
Soon enough, the source of the sound resolved itself in the form of a person. Except that person was limping and had black blood dripping from a gash on its head. And an eye was hanging out of its socket, only connected by what Ivan assumed to be the nerve, or maybe muscle. Whatever it was, it was gross!
“John, shoot it!” Ivan shouted. He didn’t want his spear to get more undead juices on it. And this thing was clearly a zombie. He’s seen enough movies to know that.
There was no sound except the groaning and footsteps of the undead getting closer. Ivan looked back at John and found him frozen up like a fool.
“God damn it!” Ivan fixed the undead back in his gaze and stepped back carefully until he drew even with John. He reached over and grabbed the man's gun from his clutching fingers and ripped it away. Ivan sighted the gun best he could with his limited experience and pulled the trigger, aiming for the head.
*Click*
“What?”
*Click*
“It’s not fucking loaded?!”
Ivan dropped the gun, grabbed the last hatchet from the shelf, and marched towards the undead guy. He gave it a kick in the gut, which didn’t do much, but it did manage to cause the zombie to recenter itself, lest it topple over, giving time for Ivan to swing down with the hatchet and brain the damned thing.
The undead folded to the ground like a stacked pyramid of cards, the axe handle sticking out of its forehead like a unicorn horn. “Ptoo.” Ivan spit on its pale flesh with a frown.
He turned around and saw John leaning down to pick up the gun. “Tch.” Ivan turned and walked away to begin looting the place. Hopefully there weren’t any other Undead in the place. He would have thought all the noise would have attracted them, and he didn’t see any others. So hopefully the place was clear.
“So… Do we start gathering supplies, or?” Ahmed started.
“Of fucking course! Use your brain!” Ivan shouted back at him.
These people were morons! And Ivan no longer wanted John's stupid gun. There were better guns here that he could get. Ones with a longer range. And shotguns. Perhaps a crossbow, then he could reuse the arrows. Although this was America, so there was bound to be a lot of ammo about, but he had a feeling it was going to be used up pretty fast. Especially against undead, where you had to get the brain, or they kept moving. Would there be a flamethrower at a hunting store? Nah, probably not. Although that would be pretty cool.
Ivan quickly made his way to the gun section in the back, Ahmed following closely behind. Once there, he jumped over the glass display case and finally came into contact with the gun racks.
“Cool.” He had never bought a gun before. He just couldn’t justify it when there was rent, food, and all the other crap. Plus, he never went hunting and had never fired a gun.
He looked over the selection and had no idea what he was looking at. He supposed he should choose a hunting rifle first, but there were so many options! Why were there so many options? He was sure a hunter or someone well versed in guns would be quick to explain it to him, but Ivan just didn’t get it.
He shook his head and just chose one with a largish scope already attached. It had a dark wood colour to it with a black barrel. The whole thing looked to be just over a meter long. Now he needed ammo, but that was once again confusing. Which size ammo fits in the gun?
After a bit of experimentation with the ammo magazine, he finally found the right size... probably. When he pulled the bolt back and forward, the bullet fit pretty snugly, so he guessed he had the right stuff. He dumped as much ammo as he could in an orange and camo duffel bag, but found it was too heavy for him to lift. After a bit more searching, he found a shopping cart, which he began to stack ammo in.
Ivan nodded his head at the amount of ammo he packed. He then searched for a handgun and picked a simple black one that looked the same as all the rest. He then packed even more ammunition for the pistol and even found a holster for it, which he wound around his waist and holstered the pistol to his hip.
Then he began to check everything off his mind checklist one by one. Crossbow. Camo gear. Cheese puffs. Beef jerky. Knives and axes. Backpack. A bright red emergency kit. As well as other miscellaneous things.
He looked around for a silencer but couldn’t find one. It would have been great if he could get one. Then he wouldn't draw all the enemies to him every time he shot something. Or maybe the loud sound would scare things away?
Hmm. No. Maybe the Earthly Beasts would be scared away, but the Undead were practically suicidal, as weird as that sound. Just thinking of the zombies sent a shiver down his spine. They were so weird! And disusting! What would happen if some of those juices got in his mouth? He was gagging just thinking about it.
After having experienced it, he couldn't understand how the people aren't more grossed out in those zombie shows. Like, it was gross! At least the living juices of the earthly beasts are fresh, so he didn’t think it was as gross.
Speaking on living juices, he did have some blood on his pants that he hadn’t noticed earlier. Good thing this place had clothing!
After changing into a new pair of pants, he pushed his cart that was towering with stuff down the halls, and he found the rest of his group waiting at the front of the store with their own carts, similarly towering with stuff. Each of them had a gun now, and hopefully stupid John picked up some ammo.
“Alright, lets go.” Ivan led the way out. He rammed the door open with his cart and was momentarily blinded by the sunlight. When his eyes adjusted, he noticed a horde of zombies turning his way.