Not for the first time, I wished I had my drones.

  They’d have been helpful for taking off the pressure.

  As Tori and I rushed through the dungeon, trying not to get caught outside of the buildings and also trying to leave as many of the animalistic-looking Vikings alive as we could behind us, I couldn’t help but feel like we were losing the race.

  I slammed the Trip-Hammer into a monster, expecting it to double over with no problems. Instead, it turned and…not roared. Groaned. It groaned, and above its pallid skin, I got my first look at its nameplate, and a weird feeling washed over me.

  Zomberserker: Level 59 Monster

  Then it rushed me, and I pushed the feeling away to focus on the fight. It lifted its arms, revealing two scythe-like blades, and slammed them down at the ground—only for the Trip-Hammer to blow through the rusty weapons like a freight train. They shattered, and stinking black blood gushed from the jagged metal and sprayed across the dungeon’s streets. I reversed my swing, the Trip-Hammer revved, and the Zomberserker’s face exploded. So did its head, and its neck, and half its torso.

  The street ended up covered in gore. The rest of the onrushing zombies and rune-covered animal vikings did, too.

  I ignored that. The Vikings’ line would collapse any second—it was already leaking Zomberserkers. We needed to hit the first boss and overwhelm it if we wanted to go to the second floor. And we needed to do it fast.

  “Tori, battle plan. First boss, Elite, both of us. We’re strong enough to ignore it unless it’s invincible or something, so we go big, try to end the fight before it can get going, and hit the second floor fast. Do you have anything else to throw at it?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a new spell or two I haven’t tried yet. You?” Tori said. She Crushed a Zomberserker and threw it into the crowd of undead pushing up the path.

  “Not really. My big trick right now is the Explorer. This one’s you, not me.”

  “Got it.”

  We surged through the defenders and into the Viking village’s main square, ignoring their blades and arrows as best we could until we hit the gray fog wall.

  The Warband: Level Forty-Eight Dungeon Boss

  Current Difficulty: Trivial

  The ruler of Norse Street’s elite guard, these Vikings mean business. They’re—

  I ignored the rest of the message. The only word I was looking for—a rule that made the Warband impossible to kill—was missing. That meant…

  The Elite buff hit me a moment later, and I gained five temporary levels. Tori and I rushed the dozen Viking warriors, who’d drawn shields and swords and formed up around a gold-adorned hall, with a fire between us and them.

  Then Tori cast her spell, and the fire exploded into a thousand embers—each of which dive-bombed toward one of the Vikings. As the fiery embers hit them, nothing happened.

  I rushed them, feeling the extra level and revving my Trip-Hammer. The hammer swung up, then down, and the first enemy died. A sword flashed out, but the hammer’s handle caught it.

  And the bosses’ furs and clothes were starting to smolder.

  Smoke rose from one, then another, as armor and cloaks began to burn. Tori switched to Push and Pull. Her spells knocked the distracted monsters to the ground, where the flames only spread as they tried to regain their feet.

  The fight was a slaughter. I never even saw what their rules did before the final boss died.

  Boss Defeated: The Warband

  Dungeon Delvers who were not in the arena will receive fifty percent of your team’s experience.

  Area Message: Norse Street’s second floor has unlocked. This floor will remain unlocked for twenty-four hours, after which time the first floor will reset.

  “And Hal and Tori set a speed record for the Warband!” the announcer shouted. “They’re looking on pace to find the hidden exit before the horde of Solemnus-empowered monstrosities do—but will it be enough to rally the defenders? And if not, what does the future hold for the other Chicago settlements? The plague will only spread, after all!”

  I groaned and pushed faster.

  “Hal, the 100% clear!” Tori yelled.

  “Doesn’t matter! Keep moving!”

  The door to the fortress creaked open, and I stepped inside.

  Tier Two Dungeon: Norse Street (Floor Two)

  Objective: Defeat the Runelord

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  Objective: Survive (0/1)

  Completion: 43%

  Guarded Entrance: You cannot leave this dungeon until this floor is completed.

  Blood Sport: The announcers aren’t on your side, but may provide useful hints.

  Invaded: The residents of a grafted world are attempting to take over this dungeon. Some sections will be more difficult than predicted.

  I took a breath of relief as we entered the fortress.

  Not because we were out of danger; the sounds of fighting from outside poured in, and it was obvious that the animal-empowered Vikings were losing. The levels were one thing, but the sheer number of zombified monsters from the other dungeon was overwhelming the defenders. In fact, most of our completion percentage so far wasn’t from us.

  The zombies were killing everything.

  But the fortress had only one entrance. That meant only one angle the oncoming horde could attack us from. And with that kind of control came a sense of security.

  “Watch our backs,” I said as I hurried through the rough-hewn wooden hall. Torchlight flickered across the walls and floor, leaving spots of intense darkness, and it stank of smoke. One of the guys at Cindy’s had started an engine against my advice. The truck had a fuel leak problem, and the fireball that erupted from the hood was only matched by the cloud of smoke.

  It smelled like that, but meatier. Pig, cow, and something else. Something I couldn’t identify. Something metallic.

  “Runelord time?” Tori asked.

  “Exit first, then boss.” We hadn’t come all this way to miss out on making contact with a group of survivors—not when we could do something about it.

  The hallways weren’t anything like I’d lay out a fortress.

  Most of them wove in between each other, with random stairs and passages, doors that connected to other hallways, and rooms placed at random. None of it made sense, strategically, but as I killed a bear warrior who reminded me of the Field of Warriors’s first boss, I realized the pattern.

  Every single passage kept pulling us farther from where we’d come in.

  And with every step, the undead monsters gained on us.

  They’d overwhelmed the defenders, of course. And they weren’t moving fast. It was more that they were inevitable. They filled the halls above and below Tori and me, and every rune-covered Viking we had to fight let the horde close the distance. They didn’t have to fight anyone—at least, not in our hallway.

  And there was a third thing. The passages seemed to be spiraling in on a central point. That had to be where the boss was. “Tori, get ready!” I shouted as we crashed through another handful of Wolf Raiders. “Boss is coming up!”

  “I figured,” she said. “We’re not going to make it!”

  “Not going to make it to what?”

  “A full-clear!”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, we hurled through an open doorway and into a round, torch-lit room. The announcer’s voice filled the space. “Tori and Hal have won the race! By reaching the dungeon’s second-floor boss, they have the opportunity to clear it. But is that really the right move?”

  The boss wasn’t much to look at. A bent-backed old man with a scraggly white beard, he stood in front of a table covered in pieces of stone. Each rock had what looked like iron bolted into it in different shapes.

  The Runelord: Level Forty Dungeon Boss

  Current Difficulty: Trivial

  The Runelord rules over Norse Street not by virtue of his physical might, but because of his knowledge. A genius of smithing—both runes and iron—he is responsible for the animal forms of the Wolf Raiders and Ursine Champions, as well as their weapons. His power alone keeps Norse Street safe. Assault him at your peril—and the peril of the whole region!

  His level was pathetic; the Wolf Raiders were only a tiny big weaker than him, and the Warband significantly stronger. Something felt…off. Wrong.

  I didn’t see the whole machine yet, and that was a problem.

  “The dungeon exit,” Tori whispered. “Where is it?”

  “I don’t know. We need to find it before we start this fight.” I shouldered the Trip-Hammer and started looking for something—a hint of where the other survivors’ settlement was. It had to be in this room. But where?

  And that’s when the zombies poured into the room.

  “Let’s add a little complexity!” the color announcer said. It was the first time he’d spoken up since we entered Norse Street. “The purpose of a resource world is to create something the Universal Order needs, correct?”

  “You’re correct,” the play-by-play voice said.

  “And Solemnus Six’s necromancers produce what, exactly?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, we’re about to find out!” The color commentary announcer sounded thrilled. “The Consortium’s really outdone themselves with this three-way finish—oh, did I say three? There are, in fact, four factions in play still, but the fate of the fourth depends on Hal and Tori. If the dungeon falls while the undead are in the boss arena, they’ll claim Norse Street for themselves—along with the secret door to the outside.”

  “And that would be—oh, the undead are making the first move!” the play-by-play voice yelled. “They’re going straight for the Runelord! The boss fight is active, and the Runelord’s about to show why he’s earned that name!”

  Runic Armor: Level Fifty-Five Dungeon Boss

  Current Difficulty: Trivial

  Armored - This boss takes reduced damage from weapons designed to cut.

  Battle-Suit - This boss protects the real boss, which must be defeated in order to clear this dungeon.

  Magically Inclined - This boss deals extra magic damage and takes reduced magic damage.

  The stones the Runelord was hunched over began to whirl like a tornado, then slammed into place, forming a shell of rock and iron around the ancient, withered man. The iron inlays began to glow a bright blue-green, and the stone golem rose to its full, ten-foot height. It picked up a gigantic iron sword with glowing runes just as the first zombie slammed into it.

  Runes flared, and the Zomberserker exploded backward in a flash of yellow light.

  “And the Runelord gets first blood, but at what cost?” The play-by-play announcer shouted. I stared at the armor; a section of runes had gone dark where the yellow flash had started. “Can it keep taking this kind of damage? My bet is no!”

  I unshouldered my hammer and turned toward the swarming horde of zombies. We had to keep the boss alive.

  Whatever Hal and Tori were up to with that Explorer, they’d left making contact with the Midway settlement to Carol and her brother.

  She wasn’t exactly thrilled about it.

  Under normal circumstances, she and Zane wouldn’t have been caught dead near Midway Airport. Neither of them had been adults in the before times, and their neighborhood was on the other side of Chicago. Plus, they didn’t have any reason to get all the way out to Midway.

  Not to mention, he was still in shock from Brian’s death.

  Carol wished she knew what to do for her brother. The only time he seemed to come out of his shell was when he was fighting—and that scared the hell out of her. Even though she was a Skirmisher, and she could do whatever she needed to keep him safe, it had been almost three weeks since Brian…since Brian died…and Zane had barely smiled.

  He seemed to only have two modes: apathy and rage.

  And Carol couldn’t do anything about either of them. All she could do was hope he’d snap out of it before something bad happened—and that the Midway settlement wasn’t full of the kinds of people who’d set someone like Zane off.

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