9 – Someone’s Gotta Do It

When Andy slipped out of James’s trailer, he was struck by conflicting emotions. On the one hand, he was happy to have helped the older man and his grandson, and he was thankful for the spear and snack, but on the other hand, he was freaking out. What the hell was going on? Were they being invaded by aliens? How could a “System” just come to Earth, bringing with it magical energy? Andy was pretty damn sure he hadn’t hallucinated the actual magical spell he’d cast when he stabbed the bear-man.

“Bear-man!” he hissed, shaking his head as he slipped into the dark shadows beside the trailer. He’d seen all kinds of weird monsters and former people. He’d fought them. He’d had magical messages sent directly to his eyes. In short, Andy needed to freak out, but he just hadn't had enough of a rest to do so.

The storm and all the changes had come in the middle of the day. He figured a good two-thirds of the trailer park residents had been gone by then, either at school or work. Considering there were fifty-seven lots, that meant something like twenty probably had been occupied. If half the residents had been “mutated” by the mana flows, there really couldn’t be that many more loose in the park. “Right?” Andy asked the air, wishing he could be more sure.

He'd seen figures moving near the dog park, so he turned down the central lane and stalked that way, holding his spear ready, scanning the world through the open visor in his motorcycle helmet. As he walked, he reflected on his two unspent improvement points and the fact that he’d already earned six of them while James had barely picked up one. Was he just lucky, or was it because he’d been basically fighting nonstop since the storm came?

What had those early messages said? Something about the System not loving any of them? It didn’t care who won fights or something like that. When it congratulated him for doing something good—killing a monster, for instance—was it also encouraging the monsters? Was it congratulating murderers who killed other people? What did the System get out of all this? Something grunted off to his right, and Andy froze, turning to peer down a lane.

He saw a creature that looked a lot like what Sheila had turned into—green skin, long arms, and too many teeth. It was sniffing around a trailer door, and Andy could see the silhouettes of people moving in there, illuminated by something that flickered like candlelight. The creature leaned down, snuffling around the base of the door. It got a whiff of something and slowly dragged its long black claws down the metal door, making a weird, hollow cooing sound.

“Go away!” a woman’s voice yelled from behind the door. The monster chortled softly, then dragged its claws down the door again.

As Andy watched the creature, he began to notice parts of its body that looked like very tempting targets. He wouldn’t go so far as to call the spots highlighted, but they definitely stood out in his mind—a soft spot on the lower back beneath the ribs, a smooth patch of inner thigh where one leg hung back behind the other, a ridge of spine where the tip of his spear would easily slip between vertebrae, and even the gaps between her bony ribs where he was sure the monster’s heart lay hidden.

Was he experiencing the effects of his new notable skill, “sneak attack?” He didn’t know, but it felt like something was going on. Andy studied the ground between himself and the monster and saw it was primarily concrete, with just a narrow strip of gravel he had to traverse. He plotted a course, and, on the balls of his feet, he crept forward, hopping the gravel to balance on a cement curb.

With the only tricky part behind him, he stalked forward, and while the creature was intently focused on tormenting the people in the trailer, he focused on a slight depression beside its left scapula and drove his new spear forward. The sturdy knife at the tip of his spear plunged into the soft flesh, slipping between two ribs. Andy was sure he’d made a perfect hit, piercing the creature’s heart. Even so, he yanked his spear out before it could whirl and possibly pull it from his hands.

His victim gasped and coughed, then spun on him, its yellow eyes wide with pain and surprise. Andy decided right then that the thing looked like a goblin. It was bigger than he might have imagined a goblin would be, based on games he’d played, but definitely goblinoid. What was the story behind that? Was the System legit when it said some people had these latent monster mutations? Did there used to be goblins on the Earth? Is that why there were stories about them?

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

His musing was cut short as the monster charged him. He danced back, feinting with the spear, but he only had to hold it off for a few seconds. Its attacks were listless, and after only a couple of steps, it fell to its knees, then onto its face while a thick rivulet of dark blood pumped out of the stab wound Andy had made. Before he could think about what he’d just done, the System sent him another jarring announcement:

***Congratulations, Andy! You scored a critical hit and performed a flawless one-shot kill! Such talent! You’ve earned an extra improvement point! You’ve also made progress toward your next level. Keep up the good work!***

***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.***

Andy had barely finished reading the notice when the trailer door opened, and a woman peered out. She was middle-aged, and he could see two smaller figures behind her—her kids, he guessed. “Did—did you kill it?” She sounded horrified.

“Yeah.” Andy scanned the lane in front of her trailer, left and right, ensuring he wasn’t about to get jumped by something else.

“Why, though? It didn’t hurt anyone—”

“How do you know? Lady, that thing was a monster. I had one of them try to bite my face off.” Andy wasn’t in the mood to be lectured, especially when he felt guilty enough as it was. “Are you okay? Anything bad in there with you?”

“Anything bad? Who are you? Can I use your phone? Nothing’s working! At least call the police.”

“Pretty sure nobody’s phone is working.” Andy stepped a little closer so they wouldn’t have to talk so loudly, but the woman’s eyes widened further, and she pushed the door closed. Andy stood a few feet from her door and said, “I’m not coming in or anything. I just didn’t want to yell. There are more monsters out here.”

When he planted the butt of his spear on the concrete and leaned against it with a sigh, the door opened a few inches, and the woman peered out again. “Really, no phones?”

“Nothing. You’ve seen those System messages, right?”

“Yes! What’s going on? Is it the government? Is it—”

Andy held up a hand, forestalling more speculation. “No idea. Could be aliens, for all I know. Could be what it says it is—some kind of entity that uses mana really well.”

“What’s that anyway? What’s the mana it’s talking about?”

“Magic, as far as I can tell. Anyway, do you know if any of your neighbors were home when it happened? I’m trying to get the trailer park at least somewhat safe. Would be cool if others were helping.”

Just then, another kaleidoscopic display of pink and purple-tinted lightning unfolded in the sky, and a distant ten-second-long rumble of thunder rolled slowly over the park. “Did you see that?” the woman asked.

“Yeah. Wild, isn’t it? I’m Andy, by the way.”

“Monique.” She stared at him for a couple of seconds, then added, “My neighbors weren’t home.”

Andy nodded. “All right. Gonna go check out the dog park. I guess just keep your door locked for now.”

“All right, then.” She pushed her door shut, and Andy heard the lock click home. He turned back toward the central road through the park and proceeded toward the little park. He didn’t have far to go—maybe the length of a football field. He kept thinking things were moving in his peripheral vision, but he never saw anything when he whirled to look.

Some of his jumpiness could be explained easily enough by nerves; he’d been fighting monsters, after all. The wind was blowing, too, with the occasional spatter of rain. He supposed weeds or trash could be blowing around, triggering his very justified paranoia. When he got to the park—a semi-circular patch of grass about the size of a basketball court surrounded by a low, chain-link fence—he thought an enormous tumbleweed had blown in there and gotten stuck by the fencing. Then he saw the thing move—six-foot-long, hairy legs unfolding from its bulbous body.

Andy gawped in horror, realizing he was looking at a Volkswagen-sized tarantula. Worse, he was looking at a Volkswagen-sized tarantula that was feasting on the corpse of a very large, very overweight man. He didn’t know if feasting was the right word. It had jammed the fang-like things near its enormous, fuzz-covered mouth into the dead guy’s belly, and Andy didn’t know if it was sucking his guts out or injecting acid. He had a vague memory of learning that spiders digested their food before consuming it.

“I can’t deal with this shit,” he said, taking a step back.

“Hey, dude,” a man’s voice whispered hoarsely from across the street. Andy crouched lower beside the trailer he was lurking near and peered toward the voice. He saw a large, bald guy with a bushy beard. He was holding a big wood-cutting axe. He held a finger to his lips and then pointed up. Andy followed the gesture with his eyes and saw a slender figure crouching atop the trailer. He could barely see the woman’s face inside the deep hood of her windbreaker. He could see what she was holding, though: a big composite bow with an arrow nocked on the string.

“Hey,” Andy whispered, shifting his gaze back to the man.

“You wanna kill that thing?” the guy asked. “We think it’s the last monster in the park.”

Andy looked back at the giant spider. He very much did not want to mess with that thing. Still, life couldn’t exactly return to any semblance of normality with monstrous spiders eating people in the trailer park. Someone had to do something, and at least he wasn’t alone. Gripping his spear in white-knuckled fists, he nodded. “Yeah.” He clenched his jaw and, more firmly, whispered, “Someone’s gotta do it.”