20 – A Grisly Scene

As they rode through the neighborhood on matching mountain bikes, Andy couldn’t stop thinking about the System and its seemingly unequal treatment of him and Lucy. No matter how he racked his brain, he kept boiling it down to one of two possibilities: the System was favoring him for some reason, or there was another element involved—something like intention. He kept coming back to that word because of how he’d gotten his current class, Umbral Warden.

All he’d done was put some points into perception and spears. Sure, he might have had some other natural prerequisites—strength or speed or something—but why hadn’t he just been awarded a class like “Warden” or “Spear Fighter?” Lucy was a “Hunter,” not some other more exotic-sounding thing, after all. He remembered that when he’d spent those improvement points, he’d been thinking about clearing monsters out of the trailer park. He’d been staring out the window, looking for threats in the dark storm. Had the System recognized his intention and awarded him a more fitting class?

Then there was the “notable distinction” he’d just earned. He was the one who’d said they should kill the wolves. True, Lucy had reminded him that they couldn’t be ignored, but he’d had the killing intent. More than that, he’d summoned them with a whistle and stood his ground against them. Lucy had, arguably, done more of the killing, but apparently, the System had seen something different about their mindsets. Was it fair? Not in his opinion, but he thought he could see some hidden logic to things.

They made good time, riding through the neighborhood of ranch-style homes with the bikes Sandy had given them, and when they turned up the road that led to the school, Andy slowed, angling to the side to give Lucy space from the spear he held awkwardly across his handlebars. He could see the big, square, brown stucco buildings in the desert landscape ahead. The school got its name from being in the foothills of the Catalinas, and whoever had designed it had done a good job blending it into the environment.

“Feel anything?” he asked as Lucy came up beside him.

“Nothing from my skill, I don’t think. I’m nervous about what we’ll see there, though.”

Andy nodded, feeling much the same way. In truth, he’d been distracting himself with thoughts about the System because he didn’t want to dwell on the idea that some children had died, and he might have done something to prevent it. He’d learned about the quest last night. Why had he prioritized burying the dead over rescuing kids? Was it just that he’d assumed it was a job for daylight—that he shouldn’t go out into the madness of the System integration at night? He was an Umbral Warden, wasn’t he?

“Damn it,” he hissed. Lucy looked at him sideways, and he, once again, reminded himself that they didn’t know each other all that well. She was far from being able to read his mind. “I’m just pissed that I didn’t come here last night.”

“I get it, but you heard Sandra. This place was crazy last night. Would you be any good to those kids dead?”

Andy nodded, but he wasn’t really agreeing. He could have slipped by or picked off the monsters—theoretically, he was better in the dark, right? He shook his head. There was nothing to be done about it other than trying to catch up to the goblins as quickly as possible. “Let’s go.” He leaned into the handlebars and pedaled harder.

The gates were wide open when they arrived at the school, and cars and buses were still parked in the lot. Had they been loading the kids for the trip home when everything went nuts? He coasted into the lot, sweeping past the buses, noting scattered backpacks, bloodstains, and other signs of things gone horribly wrong. Windows were broken in the school, and the warm breeze from the desert stirred the flags hanging on the pole, making the halyard pulley clang in the eerie silence.

“Where is everyone?” Lucy whispered.

“Dead or ran away? Hiding? I don’t know. How are we supposed to find a damn pack of goblins?”

Lucy cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably on her bicycle seat. “I, um, have a tracking skill, but I’ve never used it.”

“Oh…” Andy supposed it made sense—wouldn’t a “Hunter” be able to track? “Does it use mana? Or is it just something you know how to do?”

“It says bound, and, yes, it uses mana. I guess it’s a spell?”

Andy pointed to the wide sidewalk that led toward the school’s main entrance. “Let’s try it over there.”

Lucy shook her head. “No, think about it. Everyone who went in and out of the school walked there. The place is fenced, though, so if someone left on foot—”

“Oh, shit. Good point. What if the fence is broken somewhere? Or another gate’s open? I bet they do nature walks or something.”

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“Let’s ride down to the sports fields and see if we can spot any openings.” She pointed toward the sidewalk leading around the perimeter of the school buildings.

Andy frowned. “What if they didn’t leave the school? What if the goblins moved into one of these buildings?”

“The quest called them a ‘hunting party’ and said they raided the school.” Lucy shrugged. “I don’t know what the right move is.”

“No, that’s a good point. Let’s ride down to the fields and scan the perimeter fence.” Andy kicked his bike into motion, and Lucy followed him as he coasted around the buildings. That was when he saw the first corpses. He didn’t let his eyes linger on them; it was too surreal, too much out of a horror movie. The hot breeze blowing wouldn’t let him escape, though—scents of carrion triggered his gag reflex, and he had to hold his breath, pedaling furiously to skirt the bodies.

There were dozens—maybe hundreds—scattered over the grassy slope that led down to the baseball and football fields. It looked like they’d been fleeing, and whatever had been after them caught up when they reached the field. Had they been out at recess? Had the buses been lining up while the kids finished the day outside? Or had they fled the school? Andy forced himself to look past the scene, up over the playground to the school, and it looked like they had indeed come through those back doors—the gymnasium and cafeteria doors were open and clogged with carnage.

“It’s a nightmare!” Lucy hissed, holding the sleeve of her hoodie over her face.

“I know. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen. It’s worse than a zombie movie. Jesus. What were they running from?”

“The goblins?” Lucy hesitantly guessed as they hurriedly rode down the slope, now well past the scene of the massacre.

“This didn’t happen recently. It’s from yesterday. I think something horrible mutated from some of the kids or the teachers—something they all ran from.”

“One thing did all that?” It didn’t sound like Lucy thought it was probable.

Andy shook his head. He had no idea. “Maybe? Maybe a pack of monsters—like those wolves. I was too chicken shit to look at the bodies closely. Were they mutilated?”

“I just saw lots of blood,” she whispered, their bike’s tires in the grass almost louder than her voice. “I looked away, too.”

Andy was listening to her, but he was also scanning ahead, running his eyes over the big fence that enclosed the playground and the sports fields. Sure enough, there were several gates, and all but one were chained shut. “Look!” he pointed to the open gate, steering toward it. He rolled around a shorter fence surrounding a baseball diamond and squeezed his brake, stopping when he came to the perimeter fence. “Do your thing.”

“This is weird,” Lucy said, sliding out of her seat. She unslung her bow, holding it by her side while she walked toward the gate. “How do I know how to do this?”

“Yeah. It’s weird as hell. The System can just, I don’t know, use magic to make connections in our brains.”

Lucy stared at the ground near the gate, and Andy watched as she leaned over, her eyes glinting with a weird amber light, evident even in the Arizona sunlight. She whispered, narrating what she saw, “Maybe ten or twenty tracks. Lots of bare feet with claws. Lots of shoes, too—small sizes. They go that way.” She pointed into the desert between the school and the mountains.

“Can you tell how old?”

Lucy knelt by the scuffed-up dirt track, staring at the ground, but after a minute, she shook her head. “My skill is too low. If I get another point, I’ll put it into it.”

Andy got off his bike and leaned it against the fence. “Fair enough. Let’s follow ’em. I’m right behind you.”

“No bikes?” Lucy asked.

“Can you track from the bike seat?”

She blew out a breath, shaking her head. “Good point. I’m feeling out of it. That scene back there…”

“I know. It’s fucking godawful, but we have a chance to save some kids. Let’s do it.”

Lucy started up the trail as Andy followed, spear ready. “It’s weird—this tracking, um, spell says it costs two mana per second, and I only have twenty mana, but it’s still going…”

“We must regenerate mana at a certain rate, even when actively channeling a spell. If you can tell the tracks follow the path, you could pause your skill to keep yourself topped off.”

“I just thought of that.” She nocked an arrow from her quiver, then looked over her shoulder. “Should we hurry? What if it’s too many for us to fight?”

Andy frowned, twisting his hands on his spear’s haft, thinking about the horrors he’d seen at the school. “Let’s hurry.”

Lucy stared into his eyes for a second, then she nodded, leaving unsaid what they both were thinking: they’d rather fight a horde of goblins than stand by while more kids were killed. The two of them started jogging down the dusty path that wound up and around the foothills of the Catalinas. The sun was hot, the breeze warm, but it wasn’t like a typical June day. Something was different about the desert, and he knew it had to do with the mana. Things were changing.

When they crested a small hill, Lucy skidded to a stop, hunkering behind a greasewood bush. Andy hurriedly crouched beside her, looking through the little green leaves. There was a gulley about thirty yards ahead, a cleft between two rocky hills, and two green-skinned monsters sat in the dirt, feet splayed before them, flicking something small between them. Andy squinted and thought he saw a big black beetle trying to wobble away.

The monsters were humanoid in shape; they reminded him of what his neighbor, Sheila, had become. Hairless, long-limbed, but smallish—probably five feet tall and scrawny. “Guards?” he whispered.

Lucy nodded.

“I’ll sneak to the side and charge the one on the right. You shoot the one on the left when I’m close.”

Lucy looked at him, opened her mouth halfway, then closed it, and nodded again.

“Okay.” Andy gripped his spear and began to slink through the greasewoods and mesquites, carefully sidestepping a barrel cactus. He kept the two monsters in his peripheral vision, creeping as quietly as possible. This attack could make all the difference. If they took the goblins out quickly, they might be able to surprise the main group. If not, they might have a horde coming down on them, and things could get messy. When he was situated behind a thick stand of brush, not ten yards from the goblin on the right, he braced himself, took three quick breaths, then charged.