Char’s eyes felt gritty, and she could feel the pressure of a tension headache building. It had been a long, sleepless night of meditating, then healing, then meditating again. Lina was sleeping now, her breathing even, the tremors gone. Char cast the spell one last time to finish healing Irina’s back before she let herself slump back onto one of the reed mats.
It felt good to be able to help people in such an immediate and visceral way, but damn, was she tired. A few minutes of meditation at a time was no substitute for sleep. Her body might still have some go left in it, but her brain was toast.
The Stygian darkness of the night was starting to lighten with false dawn. She had to get up and… Her brain rebelled. It wouldn’t let her finish that thought. The last thing she remembered before sleep swept her under was Jabat pulling a thin blanket across her against the lingering chill of the desert night.
Disturbing dreams kept her tossing and turning, and the building desert heat made sleep impossible once the sun was up. Feeling disoriented and out of sorts, she finally tossed the blanket back and got up. She rubbed her face and ran her hands through her shaggy, messy hair, blinking against the daylight that streamed in through the windows.
Declan was awake, standing in the doorway looking out into the desert. She vaguely remembered ordering him to go to sleep the night before, figuring at least one of them should be alert this morning. If she had done that, she needed a pat on the back for thinking of it, because she sure wasn’t firing on all cylinders today. If there was any time to use the last of her instant coffee, it was now.
She walked quietly to the little kitchen area, trying to let the others get what sleep they could. Judging by the twitches and occasional sounds, they weren’t having any better a time of it than she’d had. “A therapist could get rich off just the eight of us,” she muttered to herself. What sort of world was it going to be when everyone in it needed trauma counseling?
Lulu trotted in from the door opposite Declan’s. She bumped Char’s hip with her shoulder and sent an image of her empty food bowl, her tail wagging hopefully. Char scratched her ears, then rummaged through her inventory for coffee and dog food.
She ended up cooking breakfast for everyone. It had been a while since she’d cooked a large meal, and she found the little slice of slightly chaotic normalcy refreshing—even if she was in a home built for island living that had been plopped down in a desert, and was cooking over a makeshift grill held up by a gargoyle, in the middle of an apocalypse. The setting and equipment might be different, but she’d been camping enough times that she wasn’t a stranger to scrambling up powdered eggs over a campfire. For a few minutes, she could just focus on the frying pan, the smell of woodsmoke, and the sounds of other people waking up around her.
Sergei wandered over, bleary-eyed and scratching the back of his neck, and peeked into her pan. He smiled and nodded to her. Then, sheepishly, he produced an orange from his inventory and set it on the table. He rattled off something in Russian, but the only word Char caught was the “Da?” at the end.
Irina saved her with a translation, “He says is last one. He was saving for special occasion. Being saved is pretty special, yes?” She smiled at the big lug and explained, “He had whole bag when we were take.” She shook her head over the wrong word and corrected herself. “Taken. Has been sharing. We split one orange a day. To keep spirits up.”
Char thanked him, and when she divvied up the eggs, she made sure everyone got a slice.
The group was mostly silent as they ate. The food went quickly. People glanced at one another, not sure what to say. The air was heavy with issues that needed addressing, but no one was ready to broach them yet. It was Lina who finally got them talking when she couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer.
“How did you do magic? You shot lightning and healed us. I want to learn that.” Her eyes were bright with excitement.
Jabat put a restraining hand on her arm, but Char waved him off, “It’s OK. I did say I’d teach a class, and it’s information you all need to know, anyway.” She washed down her last mouthful of egg with a swallow of thin coffee, then dove into a disjointed explanation of what she had learned so far about Cores and Affinities. When she finished, everyone looked thoughtful, and Lina looked excited.
“I got five levels from killing the bird,” she bragged, “I will keep fighting and get to level 20, then I can keep my family safe.” She made the declaration as if there was no doubt in her mind that she would do it.
At first, the five-level jump threw Char for a loop, but when she thought about the fight, it made sense. She’d jumped fourteen levels from killing a level 26 creature at level one, so Lina getting five levels from assisting with killing a creature in the mid-to-high teens sounded about right. She glanced at Sergei, who had assisted with two of the kills, and found him speaking rapidly to Irina in Russian while smiling and holding up seven fingers.
“He says he gained seven levels and got a title,” Irina explained. “He is level twelve, now.”
“Don’t let the easy kills go to your heads. Declan and I won’t be around to soften them up for you or patch you up afterward. The early levels are easy to gain, but it takes more experience the higher you get. And, to get an Affinity Domain Core, you have to kill a stronger monster or complete a quest. I’m not trying to discourage you, but you need to be careful.” She looked at Lina as she spoke. Sergei was a grown man and could judge his own risks, but the dangerous light in Lina’s eye made Char worry for her safety. Teens weren’t known for having good risk assessment skills.
Jalong was helping his mother eat, but Char had noticed him paying close attention to the conversation as well, a thoughtful look on his face. Char added a little more for emphasis, “You can’t help your family if you get yourself killed. This isn’t a game. You don’t respawn.”
“We spent a week in a freezer, thinking we were going to be killed and eaten at any minute. I know this isn’t a game, but I won’t be weak like that again. I won’t let the bad people or the monsters hurt us again!” Lina spat the words, her hands balled into fists.
Jabat put his hand back on her shoulder and spoke to her in Malay. Char didn’t know what he said, but it made Lina clamp her mouth shut, though rage still simmered under the surface.
Char fell silent. Lina had a point; she knew the horror, but still… she was just a kid. Char’s chest felt tight and she looked down. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t know the right words. She didn’t know if she was doing the right thing or being a hypocrite by trying to warn the girl off. Finally, she settled for, “Look, I can’t tell you what to do. I’m just asking you to be smart about it.”
She got up and went to the little kitchen. She started cleaning up the frying pan, keeping her hands busy while she sorted her thoughts and emotions out. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, the others started discussing whether to stay here or risk the trip to the other cutout. Char let them debate it and only listened with half an ear.
It hurt to think about a kid like Lina going through the shit she’d experienced in that dungeon. Bodies being piloted like puppets, and death around every corner. She should be in school, giggling with her friends, not having screaming nightmares about cannibals. But the aliens had taken away innocence for the entire human race, and it wasn’t Char’s place to tell her she couldn’t fight. Hell, Declan was only a couple of years older than she was. She’d been raised to find the idea of child soldiers abhorrent, but she didn’t have the luxury of thinking that way anymore. Her entire species had been conscripted, like it or not. She could be practical about it, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
Declan joined her at the sink, using a rag sparingly dampened with bottled water to wipe his plate clean. Quietly, he asked, “You OK?”
Char gave him half a smile. “Trying to be. The whole situation sucks. My brain is starting to catch up, but my heart… not so much. I’ll be OK. It just hits me hard now and then.”
“Can’t blame you. It’s been a rough couple of days. I’m here if you need to talk.”
“Hey, that’s supposed to be my line.” She poked him in the shoulder, trying to lighten the mood a little. “You saw some shit yesterday, too. If you need to get it off your chest, I’m here.”
He nodded, his gaze dropping to the plate in his hand as if deciding whether to say more. “Maybe later.” He made the plate disappear into his inventory, then used his head to gesture to the others. “They’ve decided to go to the apartment building. I told them about the fire elemental and pointed out how flammable this place is. That pretty much settled the debate.”
“Are they up for another stroll through hell?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’d say Lina and Sergei are looking forward to it, to be honest.” He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms.
“That’s going to put us a whole day behind Royce,” Char said, worried that it might be too large a lead to overcome. She watched the group as they packed up their things. “But I think it’s for the best.”
They left soon after, and the walk was hot and gritty as the wind picked up. Everyone was on alert and jumpy, and the stress frayed tempers around the edges. Declan spotted more vultures circling in the distance, but they didn’t come any closer. Char pointed out the ragged, crumbling hole where they’d fought the Voracious Myriapod. Lina peered down the hole with avid curiosity, Sergei looked impressed at the size of it, and Jabat and Irina turned pale and pensive at the sight. Jalong took it all in with quiet interest but didn’t leave his mother’s side to get a better look.
All told, the walk was less exciting than Char had feared it would be, and they were all glad to get into the safety of the concrete building with no blood spilled. For all the drama leading up to it, the walk itself was rather anti-climactic. Char smiled as her charges filed into the building. Lulu trotted over and demanded scritches for being such a good guard on the trip.
Char took a moment to scratch her ears and give her a little attention before following the others inside. She’d noticed that the others were a little apprehensive around the dog. It wasn’t like with the group Declan had come from, where they’d all been glad to see Lulu and pet her. Her new, larger form was intimidating, and her flames were scary for people who weren’t used to them. Lulu had picked up on their nervousness and kept her distance, but the normally affectionate, social dog was feeling a little hurt by the unintentional rejection. Char sent her reassurance that she was loved, but she wasn’t sure how to fix the problem.
The interior of the building was dim and felt cool after the broiling desert sun. As she stepped inside, she found that most of the group had gone upstairs, but Irina was standing in the doorway of the boutique, looking forlorn. Char stepped up beside her and asked, “You OK?”
Irina gestured to the room of overturned racks and useless designer purses. “My shop. I put so much work into it. Now… what good is it? Fashion accessories!” She snorted in disgust. “I should have sold camping gear or motorcycle leathers. Then we would have something useful.”
Discarding the trite bromides that flitted through her mind as unhelpful, Char was left with nothing useful to say, so she just put a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. After a moment, Irina nodded sharply and let out a breath, as though she’d come to a decision, then squared her shoulders and turned. “What was, has passed,” she said, giving Char a sad smile and heading up the stairs after the others.
Char and Lulu followed. They found Sergei staring at the bloodstain in the hall at the top of the stairs, the broken lamp pole in his hands. When he saw them, he said something consoling to Irina in Russian and leaned the bent pole against the wall.
“My brother fought them here,” Irina explained to Char. “He was brave. A little foolish, sometimes, but brave.” She looked away to hide the shine of tears forming and excused herself to go into the apartment.
Char felt suddenly awkward and a little guilty. They’d pulled the mattresses from that apartment, never expecting to find the owner of them. As she hesitated in the hall, trying to decide if she should say something about it, Declan came down from upstairs.
“Jabat and his family are taking one of the upstairs places for now. Irina said the owner wouldn’t be coming back. I left them as much of my food and water as I could spare,” he said.
Char nodded. “I’ll leave some of mine as well. We should get moving. Let me just talk to Irina and we’ll go.” She stepped into the apartment and was taken off guard as the older woman grabbed her and pulled her into a hug.
“We did not say thank you, so I say it now. I never thought to see my home again. I know that we cannot stay for long, but now I can say a proper goodbye.” Char returned the hug, thinking that Irina and Anais would get along. She hoped she had the chance to introduce them one day.
She sorted through her food and left a large chunk of it and her bottled water for Irina and Sergei. She gave them directions to the cliff and the mercado, and warned them about the dangers they might face. “Give us four days. If we aren’t back, try to get up the cliff into the woods. If you can find the others, there’s strength in numbers, and there are more animals that can be hunted for food there. It’s a better place to survive than this wasteland.”
“Da,” Irina nodded, “This we can do.”
Char wished them luck, and she and Lulu stepped into the hallway. Declan was at the bottom of the stairs up to the next floor, talking with Lina and Jabat. Char nodded to the old man when he looked her way, and he returned it. Shaking Declan’s hand, he put a hand on his granddaughter’s shoulder, and they went upstairs as Declan joined her.
“Lina wanted to come with us,” he explained as they started down the stairs. “It was all I could do to convince her to stay, and I felt like a hypocrite the whole time.”
“Not the same situation. You were worried about Voss. She’s got her family, and a couple more years of growing up to do.”
He considered Char’s words for a while, and they were outside before he responded, “I still worry about Voss. He’s…” he trailed off, looking for the right words. Lulu ran ahead as they stepped off the asphalt pad, and the desert sand crunched under their feet.
Char scanned the sky, giving Declan the time he needed to sort out his thoughts. The storm inside her was gratified to finally be on Royce’s trail.
“He reminds me of my mom,” he said, the words spilling from him faster, as though deciding to speak them had broken a dam and let them flow out. “From the outside, meeting her for the first time, you’d think she was a perfectly ordinary, nice person, but the minute she stopped getting her way, the monster would come out. She’d twist words, make indirect accusations, do petty things like ‘forget’ to pick me up.” He made air quotes around the word ‘forget.’ His brows were drawn down into a scowl at the memories he was dredging up. “She’d seem sugary sweet while she emotionally ripped you to pieces. Living with her was like walking through a minefield. Voss felt the same way: like he was unstable, and any wrong move would have him lashing out in the most cruel way he could get away with without making it obvious.”
Char nodded. “I know the type. I’ve never had to live with someone like that, and I’m sorry you had to. That must have been rough.”
He shook his head, “I mostly lived with Dad, but she tried to use me to hurt him by constantly challenging the custody agreement. It was like she didn’t see me as a person, but as a weapon to use against him.” He shook his head and waved a hand to brush the topic aside, “That’s all ancient history, though. My point is, I was worried about my own safety when I left, and I’m still worried about what it’s going to do to the others to have someone like that in charge.”
“Do you want to go back?” Char felt a flash of sadness at the idea, but she’d be fine on her own if that’s what he wanted.
“I need to see Royce dead. After what we saw in that asylum, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep easy if I don’t see his body for myself. But after that… I don’t know. I just know that someone like Voss shouldn’t be in charge of people. He wants the job for the power, not to take care of them. He’ll use them up without caring how it hurts them. I’m not sure I can live with walking away and letting that happen.”
Char nodded. She took a moment to answer, turning over options and discarding most of them. “OK. Once Royce is dead, we’ll come back here for Irina and Jabat and the rest, and escort them to the mercado. We’ll see how things are going, and if they need a change of leadership… well, we’ll see.”
Declan nodded grimly and turned his focus outward to watch for threats. They picked up the pace and were soon jogging across the sand. Without the others to slow them down, it wouldn’t take long to get to the edge of the biome.

