The ground lifts like a wave after dropping out from under my feet. Then it stops falling and we’re in a hollow that trembles and shifts, dirt dropping as the tree’s shadow moves around us. John’s quicker to get on his feet and he draws his gun, looking up. I follow his gaze as I stand and notice the ridges in the dirt.

“Four,” John whispers, pointing with the gun. I nod, but I don’t get what he’s implying. He points to the side, where there are more ridges. “And that looks a lot like a thumb.”

My mouth dries as I see what he means. We’re in the palm of something’s hand. Something large enough to hold the pickup and all of us in one hand. I don’t bother with my bar. What is that going to do against something that size? All it has to do is close its hand and we’re all crushed.

The family’s the last to quiet down as it finally sinks in that we aren’t dying just yet. I expect they’ll be screaming again if they understand we’re still in danger.

“Any thoughts about how we get out of this?” John asks me.

I stare at him. “You’re the one with the explosive ammo. All I have is my bar.”

“And more strength backing it up than any of us.”

I snort. “I doubt it’s enough to help against this.” He nods, and in the silence, I hear something. A voice. I raise a finger when John opens his mouth and tap my ear. I can’t make out the words, but it’s definitely a voice. A man’s.

I step closer to the wall of dirt, closer to the thumb. The ground is surprisingly solid for how loose it was moments ago.

“Careful.” I think I make out, then the rest is muffled.

Maggie and another woman scream as we drop, then stop.

“Gently, Edith,” the man says with an edge to his voice. “Be careful. I’m sure they didn’t mean to damage your work.”

There’s a grumbling that reverberates through my feet, then the walls around us melt into the ground, leaving us on the side of a broken road where the dirt ramp ends. More screams make me turn and the dirt rises to wash over the pickup, lifting the metal pieces that fell out of the bed during the slide, and leaving them in it as it washes away.

I think I make out a face in the wall of dirt that moves over the ramp, repairing the damage we did. The ground rumbles in a way that makes me think of annoyance, more than the result of the motion.

“I guess we owe you our thanks,” John says. I catch him slowly putting his gun away under the wary eyes of the man who was directing this Edith. He’s holding a rifle, the muzzle pointed down, which should indicate he isn’t planning on using it. But his finger is on the trigger, which is only supposed to happen when someone’s ready and willing to use it, at least in the novels I’ve read. He has an ax hooked to his belt, and wears dirty jeans and a flannel shirt. His beard’s long and unkept, which reminds me I need to shave mine. The last time was in Harrisonburg.

“What you owe me is an explanation for your presence here.” The finger is still on the trigger.

“We saw the smoke and smelled the cooking,” John replies. “We figured we’d stop by.”

“The ramp needs to be strengthened,” I say.

“Yeah, well. We didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to drive one of those things, considering there’s no gas being made anymore.”

“It’s Diesel powered,” I point out.

“And is there any of that being made then?” he replies, rolling his eyes.

“Chuck’s just pointing out,” John says, “in his usual blunt way, that there’s other ways to use a pickup. Like a cart for a horse to pull.”

The man looks around John. “You know of any horses who can pull something like that?”

“Have you noticed what’s happened to the animals?” John replies.

The man levels his gaze on John.

“I’m John, this is Chuck. Like I said, we smelled the food and decided to come by. I didn’t think we’d come across a town until Winchester.”

“We can trade,” Albert says, stepping up.

“He’s with us,” John hurries to add.

“I figured.”

“Isn’t that for your relative in Cross Junction?” I ask Albert.

“We have other stuff, like the untanned hides, but I asked Uncle Oskar, and if you need the metal, he authorized me to act as the Jarzarbek family representative.”

“What kind of metal?”

“Iron and steel, mostly. Salvage from anything that doesn’t work anymore.”

“How about copper?”

“There’s some. We only started pulling wires out of houses a few days before we left.”

The man takes his finger off the trigger. “I’m Jason Maltese. That was Edith. You’re on her land.”

“Is she an earth wizard?” Terry asked, smiling.

“Earth Elemental,” Jason replied. “She’s one of the more extreme transformations.”

“Bernard turned into a troll,” Terry says.

“Jay!” someone yells, and half a dozen armed men come running down the road. “What’s going on?” They’re all armed with rifles, and not all of them are human. I easily recognize two orcs, and one emaciated person who’s visible skin looks like bark. Like the Grout creature out of that Marvel movie.

“It’s okay, Max,” Jason calls back without looking away from us. “They’re just travelers. Their pickup broke the ramp and upset Edith.” He addressed John. “You should get back in it and follow us.” He turns to join the others.

“You ready to play horsie?” Albert asks.

I look at the departing, armed men. “Do you trust them?” I ask. This feels a little too much like a trap, with our inability to leave.

“They didn’t shoot us, or shoot Al on sight. I think that’s a good thing.”

“And they have an earth elemental. How cool is that?” Terry says. “Along with a treant.”

I pull the harness from my inventory and put it on. I’m not sacrificing armor just because John trusts them. Once hooked up to the pickup, we start moving. I draw stares from the men waiting for us at the intersection, and some shift their grip on their rifle.

The road is wider as we follow them to the right, but in no better condition. The vegetation on the left and right is thick, and trees are sprouting among the cracked pavement. In many places I see what’s left of larger ones, recently chopped.

“That’s nearly as thick as outside of Harrisonburg,” Albert comments.

“You think they’re holding back the wilderness out of sheer effort?” Patricia asks.

More people are waiting ahead. A lot more people and again they aren’t all human. In fact, it looks like humans are in the minority, although there doesn’t seem to be one other species that’s more numerous than the others.

I look through my inventory for something to eat, but I’m out of jerky. “Deloy,” I call. “Can you get me some jerky?”

“I’ll do it,” Maggie answers.

“He asked me,” Deloy snaps. I put their argument out of my mind and focus on breathing. I can do this. I glance at my willpower. I’ve been in larger crowds. Harrisonburg’s welcoming committee was so much larger.

And how did that turn out?

Not as bad as I was afraid. I can feel my father rolling his eyes at my attempt to convince myself.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

I get the bulk of the attention, despite Deloy, Hanz, and Albert’s presence. Or I guess, in this case, despite the other humans with us. I glance at John and Patricia, but I can’t read them anymore than the people before us. Neither have a hand on their guns, so I’m taking that as a good sign.

Oh, and you trust them?

Shut up.

Deloy and Maggie are there, offering me jerky. I take Deloy’s, then Maggie’s and I feel slightly better as I eat. He smiles at her before heading back with the others; she doesn’t respond.

“Welcome to Mount Jackson,” a woman greets us. She seems human, but there’s something not quite right.

Trying to pass as human, my father whispers, you can’t trust her. You can’t trust any of them. Remember Harrisonburg. You were the only one who didn’t fall under Victor’s power. Can you trust anyone anymore?

Shut up. I spend the willpower to keep the paranoid debuff from establishing itself. She’s simply not entirely human. Considering the length of the species’s list, there’s bound to be some that will almost look like us. Hell, in fantasy literature, Elves basically look human, only with more refined features, and Half-Elves can usually pass for humans. Vulcans are the same. But then that was TV in the sixties, so it would have been for budget reasons.

Still, what it means is that she doesn’t look that way because she’s trying to con me. She just happens to look like that.

My father chuckles, and I glance at where the debuffs appear to confirm the paranoia one isn’t coming back.

“Chuck?” John asks. “You okay? You look tense.”

I want to eat more jerky, but my hands are empty. I look at the crowd. Did they get closer? Are they surrounding us? “I’m—”

Don’t you even think of telling them.

“Do you mind if we continue this with fewer people?” John asks the woman. “Crowds make Chuck uncomfortable.”

Okay, don’t panic. John’s observant. Anyone with one gram of sense will pick up that I am not a fan of crowds. Not to mention I’ve bitched about those following me often enough. And he’s looking out for me.

But why?

Because we work together! Stop trying to make me paranoid. It’s not helping.

It’s not paranoia when they’re actually out to get you, son, it’s just being ready.

No one’s out to get me, but you.

“Alright,” she calls, “everyone back to your post. Miller, Johanson, and Little, you stay.”

“They have metal,” Jason says as he walks by us. “Some copper, so you might want to have Alice look at it.”

“Jasper! See if you can pry Alice from her forge!” she yells.

Over the next minute, it’s just us and the four of them.

“Better?” she asks, and John looks at me.

I nod. I still want to snack on something, but at least I’m confident I can take the four of them on if they try something.

“I hope you’ll forgive my bluntness,” she said, “but just what are you doing here? Where do you come from and where the fuck are you going?”

John chuckles, which earns him a glare from her. “Sorry, blunt’s something I’ve gotten used to with Chuck around. We were in Harrisonburg last. I don’t know if it’s something that matters to you, but they’re putting themselves back together. Before that,e were just following the road. We were south of Staunton when the change happened. We’re heading north, first to Cross Junction, then…” He shrugs and glances at me, but I don’t volunteer information. “Ultimately, Chuck’s heading back to Canada. We’re… we haven’t figured out our plans yet.”

She looks us over. “Okay, I guess that makes some sense. Not everyone’s going to want to dig in their heels and force this system to accept this is our home.”

“How wild is the area?” I ask, and I easily recognize the suspicious expression. “I met the mayor of Harrisonburg and she showed me how some areas are wilder than others. She gave me a quest to help bring one back closer to civilization.”

“Do you have a settlement node?” Terry asked. “It’s going to make keeping this place from going wild a lot easier if you find it.”

I glance at him in surprise.

“What? I read about it. When you said you’d learn stuff about the town, I queried rhe system for more. It’s all in there. You just have to ask the right questions.”

She cracks a smile. “We do have one, and we’re borderline entirely wild. We haven’t worked out how to improve things yet, been too busy surviving.”

“Population size,” I say, thinking back on what I learned, “along with commerce, are two elements I remember being involved.”

“You want to concentrate them within one zone,” Terry adds. “It’s basic game play. Don’t overextend yourself, reinforce your central base. Once that’s secure, you can think about expanding.”

“We’re still at the securing our base part, I guess.” She looks behind her at where the crowd disperses. “Okay, I’m guessing Alice isn’t coming. We might as well head there. She’s going to want to see what you have.”

“We have hides too,” Albert says.

She laughs. “Leather’s not something we have a shortage of.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Patricia says, as we follow them south on Highway 11, “did you take in many of the… non-humans other places chased off?” The buildings we come across are nearly choked by vegetation, and anyone not working on cutting them out of the road seems to be fighting to clear buildings.

“You guys are the first to make your way here from outside the surrounding area. Are you saying most places stayed human?”

“No idea. You’re only the second settlement we’ve come across, but from what I heard in Harrisonburg, a lot of the non-humans there were chased out from where they used to live.”

Our guide shrugs. “The change rate here was in the high seventy percent on the non-human side. A lot of us were already from mixed-ancestry, so there was never a question of sticking together through this. Of course, the constant attacks make sticking together vital. If there was anyone not interested in helping everyone else, they didn’t survive past the first few days.”

“Attacks?” John asks, just as a siren sounds.

She sighs. “Here we go again. Stay here. This is central enough. It should be safe.” She walks away with the others as I get out of the harness.

“Deloy, Hanz,” John calls, “stay here with the others in case something makes it through.”

“I’m coming with,” Deloy says.

“I don’t think you—”

“Chuck, please?”

“Sure, fine.” I leave the harness on the ground. I don’t have the time to unhook it from the pickup and follow.

“Are you sure?” John asks.

“He knows how to fight. It’ll be fine.”

John grumbles something I don’t pay attention to. I summon my bar and catch up to them.

“You sure you want in on this?” she asks.

I smile. “You have no idea.”

She takes a step away from me without slowing.

“What are they this time?” she yells to the group ahead.

“Ground Rippers,” someone calls back.

“Think badgers,” the one human among them says. “Stocky and low to the ground, with claws that will rip your ankle out if they hit.”

“Tough hide that’s good at turning away cuts,” the one that has a simian shape to his body says. “I don’t think anyone’s gone at them with blunt weapons yet,” he adds, nodding to my bar and Albert’s hammer.

“Then it’s about time we give it a try.” The bogbear’s grinning.

When we reach the line of people, they’re quiet, and I hear the cracking of wood, then I see a tree fall beyond the area of bushes.

“Well, at least they’re clearing the land for us this time,” someone mentions. “Too bad this isn’t anywhere near where we’re working.”

“There’d be nothing left of the buildings if that’s where these things came out,” another replies.

Another tree falls, this one thick and tall. It falls away from the town. They all do.

Then the monsters are visible.

A carpet of them over the ground, ripping anything in their path apart.

Someone curses.

“Where do they all come from?” another asks. I notice an orc cross herself, then heft a large ax.

“Protect the town!” someone yells, and the call is picked up as they rush the monsters.

I run in as hard as I can to clear the people. I have plenty of space as I reach the wave and, with a swing, I send those before me flying, but there’s more coming. Those on each side don’t seem to notice me.

Locusts is what they remind me of, in their determination to just keep going, destroying everything in their path. I swing, strike, jump out of the way. They aren’t so much striking at me, then mowing. When claws connects, it hurts, but it doesn’t do that much damage. It’s not one of them that’s the danger, it’s the sheer volume.

I hear gunshots as I kill more of these things. Notice flashes of lightning, light. Ice, fire. Somewhere in there I see a bogbear, orcs, something scaly, more furry beings. They’re just flashes at the edge of my sigh as I sweep more of those rippers out of my way.

I keep an eye out from flashes of white, but I guess Silver’s even less of a fan of crowds than I am.

I sweep the bar before me and don’t hit anything; I do it again, wondering how any of them dodge that, and then realize there aren’t any monsters on the field with me.

The cheer goes up as I’m still searching for something to hit. I lost a third of my health and regained all my willpower. Glancing at the team window, Albert’s below half his health, John’s lost, maybe a fifth, Terry’s at full, with his mana’s nearly all gone. Deloy’s health is extremely low, but he’s still alive.

I, along with anyone who’d waded into the field, rejoin the others.

“This is why we don’t have leather problems,” someone tells Albert. “We get so much of this that most will rot before we can tan it. On the plus side, no one here’s going hungry.”

I am. I need to start stocking up jerky in my inventory for times when I have to deal with people.

“Chuck!” John calls, then heads in my direction. “That’s why he shouldn’t…” he trails off as everyone falls silent.

I turn to the roar of something big.

“What the eff?” someone says.

The monster is easily three times my height, massive, with claws as long as my arm. It’s a giant version of those that had been mowing the trees.

I grin, running at it.

“Anyone still about to fight,” a woman calls, “take that thing down before it can reach the town, healers, follow! Anyone with ammo and mana, join in where you can!”

I slam my bar into it, and the impact reverberates up my arm. Then the back of a paw sends me over the running fighters. I crash into the ground and push to my feet.

Oh, I am not letting that keep me out of that fight.

I glow green as I run, and before I worry, I see my health and stamina climb back to their max.

It’s surrounded by attackers, and a few even draw blood. Patches of its fur are singed.

“It’s hide’s too thick,” someone yells.

“Hit it with fire,” another replies.

“I need healing here!”

“What’s its weak point?”

“What is this thing?

All the while they’re hitting it. I join when a swipe sends some of them flying. My hits have as little effect as theirs, less so. Some of them have sharp enough swords or claws or something to cut the hide, and then they have something less protected to aim for. Not that it’s making it easy on anyone, with the way it moves.

“Chuck!” Albert calls. “We need to hit it in the eyes.”

I look up at the beady things there. “I’ve never thrown my bar.” That isn’t something I’m eager to do. I don’t want to lose it.

“Can you throw me?” He hooks his hammer and pulls a long knife.

I grab him by the collar and the belt and hurl him at the creature, then I go back to bashing on it.

It lets out a bellow and trash harder. This time, when it hits me, I’m not sent flying, but I dig a furrow in the soil, from where I stood, as my health drops below half.

“Ouch.” I give myself a second for the pain to pass, then use my bar to get to my feet. I look around for anyone to heal me, but everyone’s busy with the creature or at the town.

You could have picked those healing spells, you know.

I don’t even bother acknowledging his comment. I walk back to the creature as it drops to all four. Now its head is within easy reach for any fighters gathered there. I stab an open wound a few times, then it drops on its side, dead.

The fighters cheer and I join in. We head back to the others and even I can feel the coming celebration in the air.

“Chuck!” John snaps at me. “We need to talk.”