7 – Unfair Fate

Another thump led Andy to the first door on the right. He had to assume it was the bathroom, which made him realize that Larry might have been at least partially telling him the truth about Tina. He’d said he’d locked her in there, right? Andy didn’t want to open the door, but he wanted to see what he was dealing with, so he hurried back to the kitchen and dug through drawers until he found a sturdy steak knife.

The doors in the trailer were flimsy—thin and hollow—with just a couple of sheets of veneer faux wood over a lightweight frame. That said, it was easy to jam the knife through the center of it. He twisted the handle left and right and then pulled it out. Holding his breath, he peered through the resultant hole, trying to see what was making the thumping noises. When lightning flashed outside, it lit up the little room through the little skylight, giving Andy a decent view of what was happening.

Tina was in there, or, more precisely, something that used to be Tina was in there. She’d changed. Her hair was gone, for one thing, and her skin had turned so pale that he swore it looked almost translucent in the flashes of lightning. The crashing sounds were the result of her lurching to her feet, smashing her head into the wall behind the tub, and then falling again. It seemed that Larry had partially hogtied her. Dark stains smeared the faux tiles in the shower enclosure, and Andy could see that her head was bleeding.

He watched her for several minutes, waiting for the lightning flashes to give him a good view. He wanted to see her eyes and see if she looked crazed like Sheila had. He wasn’t ready to assume that everyone who went through some kind of change thanks to the “mana flows” was necessarily bad. Maybe some people’s appearance would change, but not their humanity; at least, he hoped that might be the case.

When he finally got a good look at her eyes, though, he wasn’t encouraged. They were wide and wild; worse, she was clenching and unclenching her jaw in a maniacal grimace that exposed teeth that had somehow been made small and sharp and far too numerous for human dentition. Hadn’t Larry said she bit him? He’d had that oozing wound on his chest. Was Tina the source of his “corruption?” What had the quest said? “Find the source and end it,” he whispered, swallowing, his mouth suddenly dry.

Andy wasn’t excited by the prospect of spearing a hogtied woman, regardless of her apparent monstrous nature. He tested the doorknob and found it wasn’t even locked. He pushed the door open quietly. Tina had just taken another fall after slamming her head into the wall, and she was sprawled half in and half out of the tub, her back to him. Should he try to reason with her? Should he see if she could even talk? He knew the smart move would be to catch her unawares and drive the spear into some vital spot.

She still hadn’t noticed him. He stood there in the doorway, vacillating between merciful, sudden violence and hope that he might be able to reason with the hissing, growling, gnashing woman. Frowning, gritting his teeth, a cold, angry part of himself asserted itself and told him what the choice really represented: being realistic or being stupidly naïve. It was obvious that Tina wasn’t right. Her nails were black. He could see the dark lines of her veins through her skin. Her ears were bat-like.

With a silent inhalation, he steadied himself, aimed the spear at the nape of her neck, right where her spine met her skull, and then he took a single step and drove the bloody chef’s knife at the tip of his spear into the spot. It was a perfect hit. He felt the blade slide between two vertebrae and sink deep into her flesh. She didn’t even scream; he’d neatly severed her spinal cord, and she fell like someone had reached into her skull and flipped the power off.

***Congratulations, Andy! You’ve scored a perfect critical hit and unlocked a new notable skill: Sneak Attack.***

***Your flawless victory has elevated you to level three in your Umbral Warden class, earning you another improvement point.***

***You solved the mystery of Larry’s corruption. Mana currents awakened the corpse fiend bloodline in Tina Finster, and she infected Larry Finster with a terrible bite. Your swift and decisive actions mercifully ended her existence and saved untold future victims. As a reward for completing your first quest, you have earned another improvement point and a random, System-generated treasure.***

***Your quest to compete for control of Sleepy Saguaro Trailer Park has advanced. You’ve made progress toward gaining control, earning contribution points toward a final reward. You’re currently ranked first for contribution! Others will see your name on reports like this.***

While he read the messages, Andy heard a soft tinkling sound and saw a cloud of green-tinted smoke burst into existence near the floor. He swore he smelled something like pine needles, and then the smoke faded, and in its place, he saw a small leather bag with a drawstring. “What the hell? So, like, that’s a thing, I guess.”

He glanced at Tina’s corpse lying sad and broken over the edge of the tub and felt a little ashamed. He’d killed her. He looked at his spear almost accusingly as if it were the cause of her destruction. “Nah, none of that’s right.” It wasn’t his fault that Tina had met with such a cruel, unfair fate. He wasn’t the one who’d turned her into a “corpse fiend.” Was he supposed to just roll over and let savage monsters win because he felt sorry for the people they used to be?

Shaking his head, Andy bent to pick up the sack—it was heavy, and the contents clinked like metal. Clutching it in one fist, he backed out of the bathroom and returned to the kitchen. He set the pouch on the counter and pulled his right glove off with his teeth.

When he untied the bag’s little leather drawstring, he couldn’t help noticing how supple it was—the softest leather Andy had ever seen, but then, the only leather things he owned were his gloves, a belt, and some work boots. When he pulled the mouth of the pouch wide and poured the contents into his palm, he whispered, “No way…”

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Three coins lay there, each bigger than a quarter but a hell of a lot heavier. When lightning flashed in the nearby window, he saw their golden luster, reminding him of his mother’s best jewelry. “What the hell am I supposed to do with three golden coins? Some little voice in his mind answered the question: if the rest of the world was going to hell like the trailer park, he wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t any more banks or dollars. With a shrug, he stuffed the coins back into the pouch and tucked it into the front pocket of his jeans.

Andy pulled his glove back on, then, gripping his spear, he started for the front door. Before stepping out, though, he remembered his other awards. Grimacing at the strangeness of it all, he said, “Status,” and then spent some time looking over what had changed.

The first thing he noticed was his increased mana. As the System had promised, he’d gotten five more from each of his Umbral Warden levels for a total of twenty. He frowned at the report, wishing he knew more than he did. He hated that he was sitting on four improvement points, but he also hated the idea of burning them on something stupid. “Cut it out, man,” he hissed, frustrated. “You’re treating your life like a video game.”

It was true. Clearly, four points represented significant gains. All he had to do was look at his attributes to see that. In his entire life, he’d managed to build a “will” that measured only four. If he wanted to, he could double that. “But what does it even do?” Of course, he thought he knew—“will” was short for willpower, right? Putting that aside, he knew what strength was, and he had six. What if he had ten?

“Forget all that; what if I dumped my point into spears?” Would he be a martial arts master? He chuckled, knowing his questions were getting him nowhere. He had a choice: experiment or do nothing. The last time he’d experimented, he’d gotten a class and, subsequently, killed the shit out of some monsters. “All right then.”

Andy focused on his stats and ran through them in his mind. He wasn’t sure it was wise, but when he thought of badass fighters, the ones who came to mind were those like Bruce Lee—smooth and fast and always one step ahead of their opponents. “Plus, if the whole world is crawling with monsters, it’s probably a good idea to be able to avoid them.” Before he went with his impulse, he ran through the options with his mind. Strength was obviously crucial for survival. So was vitality. Perception was critical; if he didn’t see his enemies coming or a trap or…

“Dammit, I’m just going in circles! Every stat is important!” Before he could second-guess himself further, Andy put two of his four improvement points into speed.

When he closed his status screen, he heard a sizzling sound, and his body began to itch and tingle. He held up his arms, watching as tiny electric currents danced over his flesh. Judging by how shadows danced around the trailer, he had the same electric sparks all over his body. As the tingling got to be almost too much to bear, his muscles twitching and contracting, Andy squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fists. He was about to freak out, afraid something was going wrong, but then it was over.

He held up his hands, unclenching his fists, and gave himself—the parts he could see—a good once-over. He didn’t seem any different, but he thought maybe the muscles in his forearms stood out a little more. When he picked up his spear and twirled it between his hands, he thought he handled it a little better, a little more surely. A few practice stabs in the air confirmed his theory; he was noticeably quicker.

“Badass!”

He called up his status sheet again, wondering if he should really push one attribute or if he should spend the other two points on something else. What about his Shadow Vigil ability? If he pumped that up, how much better would he be able to see in the gloom? How many new details would he notice that might slip past him otherwise? “Too many damn options—” His conversation with himself was cut short when glass shattered behind him, and cold, wet wind blasted into his back.

He fumbled his spear, dropping it on the kitchen floor, and stumbled forward, only to be brought up short when something grabbed his shoulder. “Ah, shit!” Andy yelled as the grip tightened and several sharp things dug into his flesh. He glanced at his shoulder and saw an enormous, hairy, brown hand tipped with black claws. His mouth went dry as panic squeezed his adrenal glands dry.

He dropped, snatched his spear with one hand, and then pushed with his legs, driving forward with everything he had. The claws ripped free of his flesh and tore the sleeve off his shirt, but he was free. He whirled just in time to bring his spear up to intercept a charging…“What the hell? A bear?” As he jabbed his spear at the creature’s face, backpedaling, Andy realized it wasn’t a bear. It was more like a burly, bear-faced man. He even had some ripped and stained clothes on—khaki pants and the shredded remains of a baby blue business shirt. Andy tried to drive the spear home, but the monstrous man swiped his claws at it, knocking it aside.

Andy growled, frustrated. Hadn’t he just spent two points on his speed? With that thought, he began to put his magically bestowed spear training to work. He feinted, parried, thrust, and blocked, always careful not to let the huge, powerful man land a solid blow on his spear lest he shatter the cheap wood. He fought defensively and used the space in the trailer’s ruined living room. He nimbly hopped over a flower-printed sofa. He sidled around an oversized ottoman and repeatedly circled the small kitchen table, using it to create space.

Several times, he caught the monstrous man’s arms with the knife blade mounted on his spear, but the creature’s thick fur and skin didn’t allow much damage to get through. “What’s your problem?” he asked, growing frustrated as the bear-man growled and snapped his teeth, swiping his long-clawed hands at him. Of course, the mutant didn’t respond, but Andy could see it was getting frustrated, too. It reached too far, exposing its flank, but when Andy stabbed it, his knife barely penetrated the thick fur and skin.

He waited for the bear-faced man to make the same mistake again, and then, using some reflexive instinct, much like yawning or breathing, he cast his Piercing Dusk spell. It felt like he mentally reached into some hidden space in his belly or maybe his chest and pulled mana out, wrapping it around his spear blade.

The knife he’d duct-taped onto the mop handle swirled with writhing, living shadows, and Andy lunged, driving it into the monster’s side. He hardly felt it strike home as it slipped through the creature’s thick, furry hide. The bear-man opened his mouth and gurgled a pain-filled roar, swiping his claws in a frenzy. Andy tried to pull the spear back and stab it again, but the monster’s pain-driven reaction was too quick, and he caught Andy’s mop handle with a solid blow, breaking it in half.

“Oh shit,” Andy hissed, backing up, holding a three-foot-long piece of broken wood. The bear-man monster was severely wounded, but he was still alive, and his big eyes were red with rage. Andy backpedaled to the kitchen, trying to put the table between them again as he frantically racked his brain for a plan.