18 – Ranch-Style

“You found your voice?” Andy stepped away from the minotaur’s corpse, walking closer to Lucy.

“Yes,” she whispered, reaching up to massage her throat with her fingers and thumb. “I put another point in will. I was hoping…” She trailed off, her lips pressing into a rueful smile as she kept rubbing her throat, like she wasn’t quite sure her vocal cords would keep working. “I’m not used to this.”

“Take your time…” Andy wasn’t sure how to react. She’d put points into will, and that had fixed her voice? He could only assume she’d had some kind of mental block, and—

“That was pretty funny,” she whispered, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “You just put on twenty pounds of muscle.”

Andy couldn't resist. He flexed surreptitiously, reaching up to squeeze his biceps. His arm felt thicker, harder. “I was impulsive, I guess. The minotaur was so damn strong, and I’ve been getting a lot of points.” He shrugged, rolling his shoulders, feeling the way his shirt pulled tighter than before. “Did it change how I look a lot?” Back in high school, he’d spent plenty of time in the gym—he wouldn’t complain about muscle, but he didn’t want to look unnatural.

“No,” Lucy rasped. She was still rubbing her throat, her fingers absently tracing along the side of her windpipe, like she was reacquainting herself with the act of speaking. Then, after a long pause, she suddenly whispered, “I haven’t really spoken since I was twelve.”

Andy stayed quiet, sensing there was more.

“I whispered things to Steve twice.” Her voice was hoarse but steady. “Once when my mom died and once—”

Her breath hitched, and tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them. She shook her head hard, looking away.

“Hey.” Andy stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. “We can talk later. Get used to having your voice again, okay?”

She sniffed and nodded, wiping at her cheek before quickly changing the subject. “The turnoff is about half a mile. If we cut across the desert—”

“We can save ourselves an hour of walking.” Andy nodded. “Come on.”

He glanced up, fixing his gaze on one of the peaks in the Catalina Mountains, memorizing its position as he started into the desert at an angle. He should have thought of it sooner—there was no reason to follow the right angles of the roads when they were traveling on foot. It didn’t make them any safer, but at least it would cut the trip in half.

As they walked, he slapped his waterskin. “I got this from the System. It holds, like, five gallons of water. Let me know if you get thirsty.”

“Okay,” Lucy rasped.

Andy frowned. “Do you have a skill that lets you hear or see better? How’d you know that frickin’ minotaur was coming?”

“At level four, I got ‘Hunter’s Instincts.’” She cleared her throat, wincing slightly as she spoke. “Don’t know how it works, but I could sort of feel that thing coming toward us.”

Andy nodded but decided to drop the conversation. Her voice sounded raw, like it physically hurt to use, and he figured she’d appreciate the quiet. Still, her skill intrigued him. He wondered if he could pick up Hunter as a secondary class. Didn’t the System say he could have more than one?

They walked quietly for a while, and Andy wasn’t nearly as stressed as earlier now that he knew about Lucy’s skill. He doubted it was infallible, but it was nice to know she had a chance to notice creatures they might encounter. Even so, he kept his spear ready, walking with both hands on it, prepared to leap into a combat stance. He felt different, thanks to his impulsive improvement point expenditure.

He’d been a strong guy before, but he definitely felt like he’d taken it up a notch. His spear felt weightless in his hands, and the little sandy washes they stomped through weren’t any strain on his leg muscles. How was it possible? He could almost explain away the System’s ability to put knowledge in his brain. Brains were biological computers, right? Maybe it could just write data into one. But no—he’d also gained muscle memory and callouses on his hands. And now? As Lucy said, now he had at least twenty pounds of new muscle.

The only word that made sense to explain it all was “magic.” What had the System’s message said? It was adept at using mana or something like that. Mana. Andy shook his head. It seemed to be a curse and a blessing all in one. He supposed that, in a way, he was lucky that he didn’t have very many loved ones. He’d left his friends behind when he went to the university, and then, when he’d dropped out, he’d lost track of his new friends. As for family… He forced himself to think about something else; he didn’t want to dwell on what his mom had likely been going through.

He couldn’t deny, though, that he was lucky. Yeah, the “System-integration” had been rough, and he’d seen many of his neighbors die—he’d killed some—but how much worse would it have been if he’d had kids or if he’d been married? He glanced over his shoulder at Lucy. At least he hadn’t lost a brother. As she scanned the desert, squinting into the bright sunlight, he noticed her cheeks were getting red.

When she saw him looking at her, he touched his own cheeks. “Should have put sunscreen on.” She nodded, hefting her bow and rolling her shoulders. “Let’s take a water break,” he suggested. He stopped, leaned his spear against his shoulder, and untied the water skin, holding it out to her. “I filled it at the spring.”

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“Thanks.” She unscrewed the copper cap and tilted the opening to her mouth, taking several big gulps before passing it to him. “It’s really good.”

Andy took a long drink and had to agree. Somehow, it was still cool, and it was delicious water—like, he could taste the minerals in it or something. “That hits the spot!”

After they finished their water break, they walked another twenty minutes before coming to a two-lane blacktop road. Lucy pointed to the right, toward the mountains. “School is that way.”

“Yep.” Andy squinted into the distance, thinking he could just make out some low structures near the horizon. “And a neighborhood. Kind of fancy, I think, right? Like, acre lots.”

Lucy nodded. “Ranch-style homes.”

Andy started walking up the road. “Hopefully, they aren’t all monsters.”

The walk was, surprisingly, uneventful, but when they passed the first sprawling brick home, Andy felt uneasy, like eyes were on him. There was a newish pickup truck in the driveway, and he could glimpse a pool in the backyard over a block wall, but the curtains in the house were drawn, and nothing moved. “Something’s giving me the creeps,” he whispered.

Lucy nocked an arrow, nodding.

They kept walking and, despite their stress, nothing happened. They passed a brief stretch of desert and then another house, this one on their left. Again, nothing happened, but when they approached the third one, the front door opened, and a heavyset man stepped out. He wore a straw cowboy hat, a T-shirt, and sweatpants. He’d obviously been watching the street and seen them approaching because he waved as they got near and called. “Hey, there!”

Andy wanted to yell at him to shut up; didn’t he know there were monsters in the world now? He waved and approached, though he didn’t intend to get closer than the end of his driveway. When he stood by the guy’s mailbox, he said, “You good?”

“Wow! That’s quite a spear you got there, bud. And a bow, too! That’s thinking with your head, missy.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a pack of something that crinkled as he messed with it before popping something in his mouth. Andy wondered if it was gum or a pill. “Must have seen some action, huh? Where you headed?”

Andy pointed down the road. “That way. You seen any monsters?”

“Nah, well, not since last night, during the storm. My wife, she—well, she wasn’t right. I had to push her outside. Tell you what, though, we were talking about a divorce anyway.” He laughed, and Andy stared, hardly believing he’d really heard him say that.

“Is he for real?” Lucy whispered.

“So, anyway, I could trade you something for that bow and arrow, young lady. I’ve got food. Booze.” He held up the crinkly package in his hand. “Nicotine gum.”

Andy shook his head. “We’re good.” He nudged Lucy. “Let’s keep moving.”

She didn’t say anything, but her scowl spoke for her as she turned to walk down the road. Andy was right behind her, and they’d gone a dozen steps without a response from the guy when he called out. “You sure, now?”

Andy waved, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the guy didn’t follow. He was still standing there, but something about his grin was off. They took a few more steps, and a piercing whistle cut through the eerie silence. Andy whirled to see the strange man holding his fingers to his lips as he repeated the whistle. When he lowered his hand, his grin was wider than before as he yelled, “Good luck!” Then, he turned and went back into his house.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Andy asked, turning to Lucy. She was staring into the desert on the other side of the road.

“Something’s coming.”

“A minotaur? Was that asshole whistling for—”

“Lots of somethings!” she cried, turning to run back the way they’d come.

Andy followed, easily matching her pace. “Where are you running?”

“The next house! We have to hide or at least find a spot to defend.” Her voice cracked as she tried to yell.

Andy looked over his shoulder; he didn’t see anything yet. The house they’d passed before the one with the whistling jerk was coming up fast. He could see the front door was heavy and closed—would it be locked? “Skip the door. Run for the back wall.” It was a five-foot-high block wall. If they could get over it, that might be enough to hide from whatever Lucy had sensed.

Lucy didn’t argue; she ran for the wall, slinging her bow over her shoulder as they got close. Rather than waste time messing with the gate, Lucy grabbed the top of the wall and hauled herself up. Andy followed suit, vaulting up and over to land in some smooth pebble-sized landscaping gravel. He held out a hand to help Lucy down and then peered over the wall toward the street.

“Holy shit,” he hissed as he saw a pack of seven or eight massive wolf-like creatures. They were decidedly more evil-looking than the ones at the trailer park. Their eyes shone with red light despite the bright sun, and their fur was thick, black, and bristly around their shoulders, almost like manes. They didn’t howl or bark, but their growls, snarls, and heavy breaths were loud and clear in the silence.

“They’ll smell us,” Lucy whispered.

Andy nodded, turning to scan the yard. A pool was covered with a rolling plastic tarp at the center, surrounded by some poolside lounge chairs. Beyond it was the house’s back porch, with a jacuzzi and some patio furniture. A sliding glass door provided entry to the house, and to his amazement, it was partially open. “Look!” Andy started toward the door, and Lucy followed. He jumped up the short flight of steps to the patio, and the door opened further. A woman holding a double-barreled shotgun stood in the opening.

She was probably in her forties, but she looked fit, and her grip on that gun looked very sure. She scowled, shaking her head. “No thanks. I’m not buying what you’re selling.”

“No, listen”—Andy pointed toward the wall they’d climbed over—“some wolf…things are coming! Can we just hide in your house for a few minutes?”

“I ain’t playing, kid. Get off my porch.” She jerked the barrel of the gun toward the gate. “Go on.”

Lucy stepped forward with her bow, scowling. “We don’t have—”

Two things happened that interrupted her. One of the wolves jumped the fence, landing with a skitter of gravel, and the woman stumbled back, pulling both triggers. Black smoke erupted from the barrels of her gun in a sizzling thwump, and Lucy yelped, falling back. Andy whirled, horrified, afraid he’d find her blasted to bits, but she’d just fallen onto her butt, and was prodding a couple bloody spots on her soot-covered T-shirt—one on her shoulder and one on the left side of her chest.

Meanwhile, the wolf thing howled, and answering barks and howls closed in. Andy grabbed Lucy’s wrist and hauled her up, dragging her toward the woman who was frantically trying to close her sliding glass door. He got his spear into the opening, blocking her from latching it, then he yanked it open, ripping it from her hands as he pushed Lucy through.

He’d gotten one foot through when some instinct told him to turn. He squatted, pivoting, to bring his spear back through the opening, stabbing reflexively. Maybe he heard the wolf’s breaths or its claws on the patio's cement. Whatever had tipped him off, he got the spear between him and the monstrous canine just in time, driving it deep into its chest as it came at him. The wolf yelped and fell back, and then hands pulled Andy through the door, and someone shoved it closed.