As I closed in, The Bean spun toward me, slamming its weight into the concrete. Huge stone missiles rocketed toward me, crashing into the grass beside me. I threw myself out of the way as a head-sized chunk scraped a rut a foot deep into the lawn, hit the sidewalk behind me, and cartwheeled through the air. The Bean crashed down again, and I rolled. This time, concrete peppered my back. It gouged into my battered leather armor and pinged off my gauntlet’s plates.
I winced as I rolled halfway around again. The Field Boss loomed overhead, and I grabbed my hammer. The engine whined; if it was going to crush me, I’d hit back.
Something hit the boss from the side. A series of metal pings and pops filled the air. I pushed myself to my feet and swung the trip-hammer. It struck home; the twin spikes whirred through the air and left two deep gouges in the boss’s surface. Then more popping sounds filled the air as the dents started fixing themselves.
Bobby vanished. One second, he was punching the monstrous metal boss. The next, he reappeared a few dozen feet away. “Hi! You after the boss, too?”
“Yes!” I said. I hit the ground again as the Cloud Sentinel rocketed toward me, spraying the remains of its concrete pad out like a combine harvester piling up corn stalks.
Bobby disappeared and reappeared right in front of me. His hand stuck out, and I grabbed it, letting him pull me to my feet. It took him way too much effort. “I’ll make you a deal, buddy,” he said. “We kill it together, we each take one of its prizes, I get the experience, and you get the rest of what it gives us.”
I shook my head. “I want the experience. You can have the stuff.”
“Agreed. I’d shake on it, but—“ He disappeared again.
The Cloud Sentinel hit me, and I hit the ground, rolling. My Trip-Hammer went one way and I went the other. It flipped through the air, landed on the ground, and the pipe snapped in half as the huge Field Boss passed over it. I pushed myself back up, back screaming in pain, and looked at my ruined weapon.
The hammers were both intact, and the engine I’d used to power them was fine. But the pipe had literally been flattened, cracked, and crushed. I scooped the pieces into my inventory and pulled the last two battery bombs out—one in each hand.
Another round of pops filled the air. Bobby appeared next to the monster, looking out of breath. Four more dents shimmered in the noon sun as he danced and weaved around the Cloud Sentinel. Then, just as the pops started echoing, I saw something—an orangish tint in the center of the dents.
The Field Boss whirled and hit the ground. It shook under my feet, and I staggered. The thing froze, half-buried in the dirt and grass. A tree toppled to the ground behind it. I dashed to one side, then reversed as the boss seemed to notice me.
Three pings echoed across the park.
Stored Charge 10/15
Bomb: Active
Timer: Five Seconds
“Move!” I shouted. The battery bomb arced through the air, orange Charge rippling across it. Bobby vanished again. The first divot popped back into place. A roar filled the air as the bomb detonated—the roar of an explosion, and the shrieking of metal as the Cloud Sentinel’s side caved in.
“Did you get it?” Bobby asked, appearing right next to me. His face was flushed, and his blonde hair was wet with sweat, but he was still smiling.
I shrugged, pulling an unmodified sledgehammer from my inventory and stowing the last battery bomb. “I’m not sure. Do field bosses give warnings when they die?”
“I have no clue, my man.” His hand stuck out again. “Bobby. Bobby Richards.”
“Hal Riley.” I shook it politely.
The Cloud Sentinel screamed. Then it cracked, splitting open like an egg. Purplish goop slopped out of it, filling the air with a rotten egg smell. The grass around it shriveled and turned brown, and clouds of yellowish gas filled the air.
Cloud Hatchling: Level Thirty-Five Field Boss
Status: Sundered, Exposed
“I guess that’s a no,” Bobby said.
I sighed and grabbed the last battery bomb. The thing looked like a slime, and the other ones I’d fought had exploded to a little acid. “Stand back.”
Stored Charge 5/15
Bomb: Active
Timer: Five Seconds
I tossed the bomb. It landed inside the goop. Then it detonated. Towers of foam erupted from the boss monster in every direction as nuts and bolts rocketed through it, leaving channels that filled with battery acid. The foam solidified mid-air. It formed a dozen arcing, thin foam bridges across the park. Bobby vanished as one hit the ground he’d been standing on, then collapsed.
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Another crashed into me, burning my unprotected arm. I screamed; the burning foam was under my armor. My fingers shook as I tore the leather panels off and used them to scrape the foam away from my red skin. I’d been burned before while working on engines, but this…this was different.
This wouldn’t stop.
I backpedaled as my skin burned and the Cloud Hatchling disintegrated and foam sprayed. It took almost a minute for it to die, but die it did.
Field Boss Defeated: The Cloud Sentinel
Level Up! Twenty-Eight to Thirty.
Area Message: The [Cloud Sentinel] has been defeated. All hail [Bobby Richards] and [Hal Riley]. The [Millennium Park] area of [Chicago] is now a safe zone.
Bobby appeared, looking at the loot. “Whoops! Forgot that these things award their experience automatically. My bad. Do you want to renegotiate the prizes?”
I put a point into Body and three into Charge, the point in Body fixing my scorched, burning skin. Then I looked at the three blue pillars of light below where the boss had just been, and the single green one. “How about you pick first?”
“Deal!”
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Bobby, it turned out, took the Smooth-Steel Dagger and the Legumous Pauldron. He wasn’t interested in the item I cared the most about, but he was interested in making sure I wouldn’t be upset with his choices. It took almost ten minutes to decide where the four pieces of gear would end up; he seemed especially guilty about wanting the dagger, given that I’d damaged my main weapon. In the end, though, I only had eyes for one of the four.
Tuning Rod (Rare, Consumable: 5/5 Uses)
Allows the user to modify magical items’ properties, increasing efficiency and versatility.
At first glance, the Tuning Rod looked a lot like the Imbuing Rod; it was a steel tube with a collapsed, telescoping end. The description seemed powerful, but Bobby shrugged it off. “I’m pretty sure nothing we get right now’s going to be worth spending charges on. If you want it, go for it.”
I did want it, and I went for it.
The other item was a common—what Tori would have called a ‘trash drop.’ It was another glove. This one only provided stats, much like the Surge Protectors had. I didn’t actually care about the stats, though. What caught my eye was the massive amount of Charge in it.
Mirror Gauntlet (Common, Charge 20)
+3 Mana, +3 Body
I needed that Charge, and I needed it bad. With the Trip-Hammer broken and shattered, I’d need to spend all the remaining time before the Planetarium opened working on a new main weapon—or trying to cut the handle down to size.
Once we’d split the treasure, Bobby went for one last handshake. “What are your plans for the safe zone here?”
I paused, thinking. “I don’t have one. Do you want it?”
“Nope. The Museumtown people are too close, and I don’t have a group that needs the space.”
That brought up a good point. I didn’t even know what a safe zone did, much less what to do with one, but I could make some guesses. The thing was, even if my friends weren’t in Museumtown, we didn’t have enough people to compete with the bikers and gangers. Right now, there was an obvious best choice if someone wanted to be safe, and a safe zone with no guards, no walls, and no plan wasn’t it.
Bobby was interesting, though. He’d be a valuable ally; if his class created weak spots and he just couldn’t see them, while I could, that could be a potent combination. He could be a great force multiplier, and I was already seeing dozens of ways to use him to solve problems. And he seemed friendly enough.
But he didn’t seem interested in solving what was obviously going to be a huge problem: Museumtown, and I wasn’t about to make him buy in on an issue that wasn’t his. I held my tongue.
“Well, Hal, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” He pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on. Then, before I could say anything, he vanished.
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The shortened Trip-Hammer felt wrong in every way, but it was a functional weapon—for now. With it slung over my shoulder, I felt pretty good about exploring the overgrown remainder of Millennium Park.
Vines had overtaken it, and the dozens of cars parked along its edges looked like they’d been sitting there for a decade or more. I walked north from the wreckage of The Bean’s concrete pad, toward the Greek-looking columns overlooking a fountain. Half of me expected another dungeon, but no, there wasn’t anything. Not monsters, signs of people, or anything else. The fountain wasn’t running anymore, either. It had cracked—probably during the terraforming.
I shrugged. I had half a mind to head west, into the city, and visit Cindy’s Automotive. My tools were there, and she had a whole collection of parts in the back. They’d been drawn down over the last few months, but I could probably get the Trip-Hammer upgraded if I—
Smoke wafted through the air.
As a kid, Dad had always said that if I smelled smoke on the farm and it wasn’t the spring ditch burn, it meant something was wrong, and I had to find him as quick as I could. When I got older, that changed to needing to find the fire and try to put it out if possible. He’d been really clear about it—especially after the incident with Beth and the magnifying glass. Put. Out. The fire.
This didn’t smell like a building burning down. It was more like the ditches. But I still recognized it as a fire almost instantly, and my instincts took over. I had to know where it was—and that people were okay.
I ran toward the steel-covered amphitheater. The closer I got, the stronger the smoke smell became. I got the Trip-Hammer ready and jogged past hundreds of rocks that could have once been chairs.
The stage wasn’t burning—but it was smoldering like it had been. Scorch marks covered every surface, and a few round-ish black lumps still smoked near the back of the concert pit. I slowed. Whatever had happened, no one was in danger.
As I got closer, the lumps became clearer. They were backpacks—leather and nylon packs that had caught fire and burned. I looked at the campfire in the center. It didn’t look like it had blown into the packs, and even if it had, it wouldn’t have been enough fire to scorch the whole stage and its cover.
I swallowed. Something felt wrong here. I closed my eyes and let my Awareness take over. It smelled like smoke and firecrackers—and blood.
My eyes sprang open. I walked the length of the stage, then toward the back door. It hung on one hinge; as I stepped over it, the first of the blood trail became clear. It led off about fifteen feet, then pooled. I traced it up a hill behind the stage.
And that’s where I found Brian.
He was covered in shallow cuts and blood, and he’d been stripped naked. Monsters wouldn’t have done that. They’d have mauled him even worse, and his armor and clothes would still be around. Someone had done this, not something.
And if someone had done this, they’d done it to the twins, too.