We assemble at a baseball field next to the road in the morning.

I’m not happy with the number of people there. All I wanted was to get up and head out, but Oskar asked me to wait, saying that he had a proposition for me. If I’d known it involved his entire clan cheering me, I’d have told him to go screw himself.

Among the Bogbears are a few other species, elves and dwarves I recognize from literature and movies. Orcs from Hanz and Virgil, which is when I notice that one such orc is with humans. Three adults, a man and two women, and a teen. Behind them is a troll, which means Mary is here too.

What the fuck are they doing here?

“Chuck!” Terry runs and hugs me, and I freeze. Willpower drops as I don’t shove him away. I told him I’m not a hugger. He steps away. “Sorry.” He doesn’t look sorry to me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him, maybe too sharply.

John is the one who answers as the others reach us. “Been looking for you for days now. Ever since finding out about the wildman who kicked the old mayor’s butt.”

“I didn’t kick—why have you been looking for me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to leave without me. Why else?”

“Or me,” Terry adds.

“Or me,” Bernard says. The goofy grin on the troll’s face looked utterly out of place.

“No,” Marie chided her husband. “We’re staying, remember? We talked about it. There’s people here who can help you.”

“But I like Chuck.” The troll looked at the old woman pleadingly. The change hadn’t cured his age induced dementia, just given him a body that could crush a car, or kill someone with one swipe.

“And he likes you too,” she replies. “He’s just going on a short trip. He’ll be back, isn’t that right, Chuck?”

John speaks before I can point out she’s wrong. “Of course he will. We’ll all be back in no time. You won’t even realize we were gone, Bernard.”

By the pleased smile on the troll, I know I’m missing a lot, so I sacrifice the willpower and go along. “Yeah, won’t be long.”

Marie mouths a ‘thank you,’ then leads her husband away.

“What is this about you coming with me?” I ask. “You have people here. You looked happy to finally be with others.”

“That lost its appeal real quick for me,” Hanz says. “Being relegated to the ghetto isn’t what I’m looking for.”

“It’s not the ghetto,” Albert says, joining us. “This is Creature Town.”

“That’s not making it anymore inviting,” the orc replies. “I’m pretty sure that guy did something to me to make me want to stay. A lot of us who don’t fit what humans find acceptable as monsters have been considering some other place to be.”

I groan and look around for more of them. The more people, the harder it’s going to be to tell them I’m not talking hangers on.

“Relax,” Hanz says, and I glare at him. “I didn’t tell them about you. They can find their own place without your help.”

“I’m not—” I clench my mouth shut, look at my slowly dropping willpower and glare at Albert. “And why are you here?” I growl.

“I just want to be with the party.”

“This isn’t a party,” I snap. “It’s a bunch of strangers standing around waiting for, I don’t know what. I didn’t ask for anyone to be here.”

“That’s not the kind of party he’s referring to,” John says.

“What?”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Terry Hughes has invited you to join his Party

Do you accept Terry Hughes’ invitation? Yes/No?

I glare at Terry and he just grins at me.

“We’re going with you, Chuck,” Elizabeth says, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. “You can accept it, or you can keep looking over your shoulder to see how far behind you we are. It’s your choice.”

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Didn’t you say something about his grandmother?”

“You said you’re going through Winchester. That’s where you’re going to be heading away from the eighty-one. Terry and I will find people there to go to Hagerstown with.”

“Mom,” Terry whines.

“No, Terry. She might be alive. And we have to check in on her.”

I’m not winning this fight.

You’re just giving up without trying.

Shut up.

“What about you two? Don’t you live south? Don’t you have people to get back to?”

“We talked it over,” John’s wife says and I’m surprised. This has to be the first time she’s addressed me. “It would be nice to know if our kids are okay, but they’re adults. Malcolm is on the West Coast, so it’s not like we have a way to find out how he’s doing, anyway.” She takes John’s hand in hers and leans against him. “Even with the hardships, it’s been nice. It’s going to be an adventure either to go north with you, or south with strangers, so we figured we’d stick with you.”

“And I prefer our odds of survival with you around,” John adds.

I close my eyes.

Don’t do it.

At least I know these people. I know they’re able to handle themselves and they won’t make unreasonable demands of me.

I swear, you do this and they are going to end up dragging you down.

I accept Terry’s invitation.

Terry whoops as my party list fills up with names. Then I groan as mine is moved to the top. To the leader position.

“Hey, you’re already in the party,” Terry tells Albert. “Cool!”

The Bogbear looks at Terry and takes a step back.

“Hey, it’s okay,” the teen says. “We picked up all kinds of people getting here. Bernard’s a troll,” he pointed to where Mary had sat him. “Eddie’s a gargoyle, Jennifer’s a kitsunee, Harry and his bunch are goblins. I don’t think those can exist as just one. Even here, they’re all groups of six or more. What?” he asks me.

I must have been too obvious in my staring. “Do you know everyone who tagged along?”

Terry snorts. “No. I didn’t bother with the religious nuts.”

“Terry,” Elizabeth chastises him.

“But I tried to get to know everyone interesting. You never know who’ll be a good fit for the party.”

“Hi,” someone said, and I turned to them. The wolf-boy stands there, shuffling his feet. “Can I join?”

“Holy shit, you’re a werewolf,” Albert exclaims.

“I’m a Worgen,” he says, sounding tired. “But that’s kind of why I’d like to leave with you. Seems that even with monsters, if they think you’re a werewolf, they don’t want you around.”

“Of course you can,” Terry says. “Shit. Can you add him?” he asks me.

“Why don’t you want to do it?” I ask, suspicious.

“I made you leader, and only the team leader can add members to the party. I guess that’s why Albert automatically joined; you were the leader of his party.”

The Worgen rubs his arm and won’t look at me. I remember punching him when he took his role as a monster too seriously.

“I’ll pull my weight,” he says, but even I can hear the indecision in his voice.

“What’s your class, kid?” John asks.

“Hunter.”

Is that what looking ashamed is?

“So, tracking skills? Ranged attacks?”

“I guess.”

John looks at me. “Having someone who can track and get us meat will be good while we’re on the road.”

“I can track,” I replied, and the Worgen shrinks in on himself.

“Can you teach him? I doubt he’s had time to practice.”

I close my eyes, and my willpower takes a hit. “I’m not going to be good at it.”

“But you can?”

“Yeah.” I open my eyes and the Worgen’s expression is utterly different. More open, happy.

I focus on him and invite him to the party

Deloy Lesueur, Steel Hunter, Level 3, has accepted your invitation to join your party

His name is added to the list.

Please let this be the last surprise.

“Good,” Oskar says. “Now I can say why I wanted you to wait.”

I glare at the Bogbear. “You mean it wasn’t so you could foster Albert on me?”

“He’s old enough to make his own decision.” The older man replies. “No. I wanted you to wait because I would like to give you a quest.”

“I’m not—”

“This is not to take you away from your trek. Last night, you told me you are heading north. You are going to Winchester and then following highway five-twenty-two. That will take you past a small community called Cross Junction. I have a cousin there who is trying to keep them alive, but he needs supplies. I have spent the night making tools for them, and I would like you to deliver them.” He points to what has to be the oldest pickup I’ve seen in my life. It’s in bad shape, rusted and dented, but it wasn’t there when I arrived, so it rolls.

“Does it run?” John asked.

“Yes,” Oskar replies.

“How much gas does it have?”

“Diesel, the tank is full and there is a five-gallon container in the bed.”

“Wait,” I look at them, “it runs? As in, you can start it and it drives? I thought everything technological had stopped working.”

“Only stuff that needs computers,” John says. “Older stuff’s fine, other than being old. That could get us there pretty fast. And diesel’s not that popular, so any gas station we come a cross should have some even if other people have been through.”

I close my eyes. My willpower’s approaching the last third of my bar. “If I say I’ll do it, can I finally get the hell out of here?”