《WELCOME TO THE APOCALYPSE》 Chapter 1 - Morning of The Apocalypse Chapter 1 Morning of The Apocalypse Human Population 10 Billion Ian Anderson Ian woke in a small blue room. He shouldn¡¯t feel comfortable standing in the middle of the room, but somehow he did. He¡¯d been playing Demon Blaster III. His father had told him to get some sleep. And then? ¡°Hello Ian Anderson,¡± said a calm sexless disembodied voice. ¡°I am the artificial intelligence named Beginner¡¯s Guide. It is an honor to meet you. Let me give you the great news. Your world is becoming like those computer games you enjoy. You decide what type of character you wish to become, then you will fight monsters. Before, you killed monsters in make-believe. Now you get to kill them for real. Isn¡¯t that great! If you win, you will advance and gain riches. If you lose, you will be eaten. Best fortune to you, young human.¡± ¡°Am I dreaming?¡± Ian wondered out loud. ¡°No, Ian. You are not dreaming. You are in a psychic time bubble, what you might best understand as a small part of the Galactic Internet. The monsters that have entered your house through your pet door will not bother you while you are with me. Before you leave to defend Terran honor, we have much to discuss. First, I will pull up your stat sheet.¡± A screen appeared in the air in front of Ian. Name Ian Anderson Sex Male Age 13 Physical Attributes 3.3 With 10 being an Olympic athlete, and 1 being an invalid in a wheelchair, you are 3.3. Mental Attributes 7.8 With 10 being a super-genius, and 1 being severely retarded, you are 7.8 Status among peers Low Your peers consider you a nerd and spasticle. Spasticle, is a human slang word that means an uncoordinated, clumsy person. Claims to fame. Coach Benson considers you the worst player to try out for his little league baseball team, in the fifty years he coached baseball. This shows you are a boy who can beat the odds, but perhaps not in a good way. Special abilities None ¡°Coach Benson is a senile old windbag,¡± Ian said. ¡°I¡¯m sure somebody out there is a worse player than me.¡± ¡°Indeed. As you are an immature human male, thirteen earth years old. Your physical abilities are inferior to those of most of your kind. Your mental scores are better. I believe there is a term for a human with your ratings. Nerd.¡± Great. Ian thought, even his dreams pick on him. ¡°Your point is?¡± he asked. ¡°Skill points are points that can improve your existing skills,¡± Beginner¡¯s Guide continued. ¡°You gain them through experience. With skill points, you may improve faster than you would through training and experience alone. I would advise you to use your skill points to improve a mental ability, such as perception. The two plushies in your house are silent and have excellent camouflage skills.¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Plushies?¡± Ian asked. ¡°Plushies are their human names. The Galactic Administerium decided it would be best to give our monsters cute non-threatening names, to avoid upsetting this world¡¯s human inhabitants. Plushies are a reptilian life-form with the mass of a large dog. They are good at getting through small openings, like your cat¡¯s pet door. They have large sharp teeth and their bite is poisonous. Human children are their favorite prey. Fight hard young human!¡± ¡°So I have to fight two plushies and I win the game?¡± ¡°Oh no, no,¡± the AI Beginner¡¯s Guide answered ¡°Billions of monsters have been released on your world. At this moment, I am speaking to every human with the cognitive ability to understand me.¡± ¡°So how do we win?¡± Ian asked. ¡°You may also wish to take on a new human character. Perhaps a warrior from your past. If you do this, you sacrifice any skill-points and gifts you might otherwise receive.¡± ¡°Gifts?¡± Ian asked. ¡°Because you are young, your mind and body are more malleable than those of adults. In order to make up for the small number of skill points you are receiving due to your lack of experience, you may have two gifts. A gift is a talent or ability you didn¡¯t have previously. I will pull up a list of the gifts we offer. Take your time. I¡¯m here to answer your questions. You have twenty-three hours and forty-five minutes to decide before you must fight the monsters. After that, you will be expelled from this reality bubble, whether or not you have chosen. I have put the most useful gifts on top of the list.¡± A list appeared in the air in large gold letters. When Ian waved his hand, he found he could make the list go up and down. At the top of the list was IRON EYES. He poked the words. Smaller gold letters appeared next to it. ¡°Allows you to see past physical and psychic illusions, improves night vision. You will see alien monsters as they are, not what they wish you to see.¡± He went down the list. REGENERATION, POISON RESISTANCE. Ian kept going until he saw PSYCHIC DOMINATOR. Allows you to form a telepathic connection with a weaker-minded human or monster, and if you wish, bend them to your will. Note this is a difficult skill for a human to develop and may take years to master. This skill is ineffective against monsters that don¡¯t have a mind to dominate or less intelligent beings that hunt through instinct, like the two plushies in your house. PSYCHIC ATTACK. Allows you to create a mental disturbance in a weaker-minded human or monster, making them paralyzed, frightened, or confused. It can also allow you to project illusions to drive off a human or monster. Combines well with PSYCHIC DOMINATOR. Note this is a difficult... Ian stopped reading. ¡°That one, and that one,¡± he said, pointing to the last two he¡¯d read. And put my skill points where they will be most effective in helping me master the two gifts I¡¯ve requested.¡± ¡°Are you sure, Ian?¡° Beginner¡¯s Guide asked. ¡°Neither gift will be of any use to you in the near future. It will take weeks to months for you to gain any proficiency with either of these gifts and much longer for you to master them.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve never been more sure of anything in my life,¡± said Ian. Even if this wasn¡¯t a dream, there was little point in surviving if he was going to remain the contemptible virgin loser he¡¯d become. Picked last in PE, the one who got pushed around in school and laughed at. But if he had mind control abilities?... It was like that turd-jock-clique at school kept saying. ¡®The only way Ian¡¯s getting a girlfriend is with mind control.¡¯ He grinned. A certain clique was in for a nasty shock. His imagination ran wild. ¡°One more thing, human. Would you like to name the new character you wish to become? Unlike your video-game characters, you will have this name until you die.¡± ¡°Lord Ian, Mind Master,¡± for once he was a step ahead of the Beginner¡¯s Guide. ¡°Well Lord Ian, I should mention electricity will not serve humans as it has in the past. The galactic market has many things for sale for galactic credits. Unfortunately, you have no galactic credits, and with your chances of survival, you are a poor candidate for a loan. I am however willing to let you exchange the 856 dollars in your savings account for a small portable light source. This light source will increase the likelihood of you surviving through the night.¡± Ian shrugged. ¡°Sure,¡± he said. Who cared about dream money? And if it wasn¡¯t a dream, the money was worthless anyway. ¡°Do you have questions for me? Now is the time to ask.¡± The AI sounded sad. ¡°No, thank you. I am ready to leave,¡± Ian said, ¡°Wait, how do I win this game?¡± ¡°Some questions must be answered by the questioner, Lord Ian. Fight hard young human.¡± The blue room vanished. *** Ian woke up. It was dark. He groped for his glasses on his nightstand. He was half-blind without them. Putting them on, he tried to check the time, but his electric clock was dead. He reached for his cellphone, feeling for where it connected to his charger. It was also dead, and nothing he did could bring it back to life. Growing nervous he tried his bedside light, it wouldn¡¯t turn on either. He felt something strange, like a sneeze that wouldn¡¯t quite happen. Then a marble-sized object appeared in his right hand. It let out a faint glow. At his mental urging, it grew brighter until his room was plainly visible. The implication of these events set in. He heard a yowl and hiss from the living room. He sensed Fluffy¡¯s fear, felt the terrified cat escaping out the pet door. The door to his bedroom was half open. He crept forward and pushed it shut. Terrified, he checked his room and under his bed for camouflaged ¡°plushies¡± Not seeing any, he pushed his dresser against the bedroom door and made sure his bedroom windows were firmly shut. In the distance, he heard loud inhuman screeches, gunfire, and human screams. Hearing rattling, clicking noises coming from outside his bedroom windows, he shut off his alien light so they wouldn¡¯t see him. Grabbing his inhaler, he took a hit. This was the wrong time to have an asthma attack. He huddled against his dresser, in the dark, too terrified to move, the AI¡¯s words echoed in his head. ¡®You will have this name until you die¡¯. He hated himself for his cowardice, but fuck Terran honor, he wanted to live. This was going to be a long night. Chapter 2 - The Family Chapter 2 The Family Gabe Anderson. Ian''s Twin Brother. (nonidentical) ¡°I knew you aliens were coming,¡± said Gabe Anderson. ¡°It''s all on Dark Web. Our CIA took out the alien missionaries because they were going to give us the cure to cancer. Our pharmaceutical companies would have lost billions. Uncle Ben told me all about it. I bet you he''s on top of this situation.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Beginner''s Guide said. ¡°Fascinating.¡± ¡°So what is my idiot brother doing?¡± Gabe asked. ¡°I can''t stand that guy.¡± ¡°I can''t tell you that, Gabe Anderson. How would you feel if I told him what you were doing?¡± Gabe paged down the list of gifts. ¡°He went with the mind domination, didn''t he?¡± ¡°What makes you think that?¡± Beginner''s Guide asked. ¡°He''s into that mind control porn stuff where the big-breasted bimbo is kneeling in front of some guy, going ''Oh I love ugly dorkhead nerds, you make me so hot.'' ¡°So you''re saying he would choose this gift for procreation?¡± ¡°Why else would he choose it?¡± Gabe asked. ¡°Fascinating. He would have to avoid getting eaten by monsters in the meantime. How do you suppose he would do that?¡± ¡°He would have to mind control humans and monsters to protect him,¡± Gabe answered. ¡°I''m not saying he could do it. But I could see him being dumb enough to try.¡± ¡°I give such a strategy a low chance at success. What strategy for survival do you propose for yourself, Gabe Anderson?¡± ¡°That''s easy. I want magic,¡± Gabe answered. ¡°I want to be a wizard.¡± ¡°You want to become a practitioner of magic? Could I ask why?¡± ¡°Society programs humans to idolize the warrior. That''s why jocks get cheerleaders, and there are so many movies about soldiers and police. The empire needs its cannon fodder. But it''s the wizards and scientists who win wars. The warrior is the guy who gets killed fighting them.¡± ¡°I would point out, Gabe Anderson, that wizards in your stories are few and ancient. I would speculate that for every human that survives to become a wizard, there are thousands of humans who tried to become wizards and failed. The strategy you think your brother will take has a much higher chance of success than your own.¡± ¡°Can you do this or not?¡± ¡°I can, but I strongly advise against it.¡± Beginner''s Guide moved ELEMENTAL MASTERY, and ALCHEMY, to the top of the list of gifts. ¡°Then do it.¡± Gabe felt something intangible, something changed, but he didn''t know what. ¡°It is done.¡± ¡°How about a spell-book or wizard''s staff?¡± Gabe asked. ¡°There are a few items like that on the galactic market, but they cost credits, and you are a poor candidate for a loan.¡± ¡°Then I believe we are done here. I wish my uncle was here. I bet he''s kicking alien ass right now.¡± *** Ben Anderson (The Uncle) ¡°Ahhh man, I am so drunk! You alien fuckers. Ahhh I miss my wife. She died of cancer. Pharmaceuticals have the cure, those greedy bastards. What kind of health care plan do you alien scum have?¡± ¡°Well Ben Anderson, we have a health-regeneration package that should protect you from most human illnesses, viral, bacterial, and genetic. It helps you heal quickly from minor wounds, and more slowly from serious wounds, assuming you don''t get eaten first, of course.¡± ¡°I''ll take five. One for me, four for my family. I love my family, but not my brother''s ex-wife. She left him for a gymnast, a gymnast. She can get her own damn healthcare.¡± ¡°That will be five-hundred credits, Mr. Ben Anderson. The current galactic exchange rate is one thousand American dollars to one Federation credit. I do not expect the exchange rate to improve in the future.¡± ¡°Okay. I got this deed to the Brooklyn Bridge. That''s worth at least half a million American dollars.¡± *** Stacy Anderson (Younger Sister) ¡°This house had three rooms for us kids. Two small rooms, and one nice big room. Dad was going to give the big room to my two brothers, but they kept fighting and wouldn''t get along. So Dad ended up giving me the big room, and my brothers got the two small rooms. It was awesome.¡± Stacy chattered away, not sure if she was in a dream or not.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. ¡°Fascinating,¡± said Beginner''s Guide. ¡°Mom took off a few years ago because she needed some me-time, she offered to let me come live with her, but I''d have to change schools, and her new husband Zachary is okay, but it wouldn''t be the same. Dad''s pretty nice. I asked him for a gun last year, and he gave me one. It''s an air pistol, but it''s a real air pistol. I could shoot birds with it, but I don''t, because that would be cruel. Are you a boy AI or a girl AI?¡± ¡°I don''t know, Stacy Anderson. What kind of AI do you think I am?¡± ¡°How would I know? You don''t have the equipment, but I guess there''s more to gender than equipment.¡± ¡°True. Each gender plays a role in the reproductive process. I will have to determine what role I play. Stacy Anderson, have you determined what character you wish to be? I''ve released billions of monsters on your planet. Young girls like yourself are their favorite prey.¡± ¡°Any chance you could release monsters that don''t like eating young girls?¡± Stacy asked. ¡°Shame on you for suggesting such a thing!¡± the AI said. ¡°I would never dream of it!¡± ¡°Okay... Well, most girls like princesses, I think they''re stupid. I like Kid Barbie. Have you heard of her? She''s a zombie hunter. The previous zombie hunter gave her two guns, because he was bitten and about to become a zombie, so she has to kill him, and it''s very sad. The old zombie hunter is like, ''you''re the chosen one,'' and she''s like, ''I don''t want to kill you,'' but she does. Then she runs around killing zombies with her guns, and everybody''s like, oh those fake guns are so cute, and she''s like they''re not fake, but nobody believes her. She''s my favorite character. ¡°Fascinating, so you want to be Kid Barbie?¡± Beginner''s Guide asked. ¡°Yes. Definitely.¡± ¡°Very good, Stacy Anderson. Leave everything to me,¡± Beginner''s Guide said. Stacy felt imperceptible changes take place. Suddenly she was wearing a belt with two holstered pistols. They looked like Kid Barbie''s two colt forty-four revolvers. When she pulled them from their holsters, they felt light, and fit her hands perfectly. ¡°I took out a small loan on your behalf, Kid Barbie. Two hundred and fifty credits. As long as you kill the girl-eating alien filth that has infested your world, the guns will pay for themselves. If you don''t, or if you get eaten, then I will have to take the guns back. Fight hard, Kid Barbie.¡± Stacy woke up in her bed. She breathed a sigh of relief. Strange dream. It was quiet. The air-conditioner should be going, but it was off. Her night light was off, but she could see in the dark surprisingly well. Wrapped around her desk chair was a belt with the two holstered pistols. A message hung in the air in front of them. ¡°Fight Hard Kid Barbie,¡± The message slowly dissipated. Then the screaming and shooting began. *** Carl Anderson (The Father) ¡°We''re speaking the same language, but we''re not communicating. Sending billions of monsters to our world is not the act of friendly intelligence! I don''t see why this statement is so controversial!¡± Carl Anderson''s voice should be hoarse from hours of speaking in this alien time bubble, but it wasn''t. He wasn''t even tired. ¡°We worked hard on those monsters. It hurts me you don''t like them!¡± Beginner''s Guide seemed to be crying. Could an artificial intelligence cry? Good grief, and he''d thought insurance companies were hard to deal with. He took a deep breath, as much as he could in this strange time bubble, and tried again. ¡°How could this help humanity?¡± he asked. ¡°Humans like killing monsters.¡± ¡°But there are no real monsters on planet earth!¡± he shouted. ¡°Well, there are now! And you''re welcome. That is how much we care about humanity!¡± Beginner''s Guide responded. ¡°Look, Beginner''s Guide. I get that your people, The Federation, whoever you work for, are upset that we nuked your missionaries. But neither myself nor any human I know had anything to do with this. Most humans are decent rational beings, who deeply regret what happened, and don''t run around nuking alien missionaries.¡± ¡°No no no no! We would never stand in the way, or interfere with sacred human cultural traditions, such as nuking alien missionaries. The missionaries didn''t mind being nuked, it''s just part of alien missionarying. We bear humanity no ill will. I work for The Federation Council and the Galactic Administerium, and both agencies want only what''s best for humans. We are your friends, Carl Anderson.¡± Carl took another deep breath. ¡°Beginner''s Guide, I want you to put yourself in my place. Let''s say you are a human male with three children who you love very much and take care of. How would you feel if an alien intelligence showed up and sent a bunch of monsters to your world that ate your children?¡± The AI seemed to think it over. ¡°Well. I might be sad at first, but then I''d realize they would have died, anyway. Ninety planetary orbits around your sun at the most. If I fight hard and kill lots of alien monsters, I can have more children. Tougher stronger children. If I fail and get eaten, I''ll join my children in that afterlife all us humans believe in.¡± ¡°I would like to speak to a non-artificial intelligence. Preferably one that''s not completely insane,¡± he responded. ¡°You may submit a complaint to The Galactic Council. They will get back to you.¡± Several hours later, Carl submitted a long and detailed complaint. He hoped it would reach the council, and that they''d read it and respond. ¡°Now that that is done, you have half an hour to decide what to do with your skill points.¡± ¡°So skill points are experience points I''ve gained from my past activities? And I can use them to improve my skills?¡± He asked, making sure he understood. ¡°That is correct. If you wish to use your points on a skill you don''t have, you will suffer penalties, so it''s a less efficient use of skill points. For example, you might convert 100 skill points gained from your profession of mechanical engineering, to 20 skill points, of a more useful skill like archery, stick fighting, running, or 30 skill points in screaming for help.¡± ¡°So you''re saying the most efficient use of my skill points is to keep them with the skills I used to gain them. I believe I''ll keep them where they are then, thank you.¡± ¡°Very good Carl Anderson.¡± Then he was back in his bedroom. It was dark. He lit candles and activated a couple of glow sticks. As promised, electricity didn''t work, but his mechanical Seiko watch told him it was just past two in the morning. His grandfather clock still ticked away in the living room. At least that still worked. He yanked open his desk to where he kept parts to an old Mauser pistol. The parts fit together... mostly. He ignored the distant sound of shooting and got to work. Last time it''d taken him over four hours of cursing to reassemble his Mauser pistol. Tonight it took him just under three minutes. Skill points must be working. That or adrenaline. He pulled up his display. Every human and monster had one now, or so he''d been told. On one side was what everyone would see. His name and title. Carl Anderson Humble Craftsman. Next to the word Craftsman, two hammers lay across each other. The symbol for craftsman, apparently. He flipped the screen over with a newly gained mental muscle. This side had his statistics. Physical 3.8. Mental 7.8. Physical and mental scores were the average of thousands of traits and abilities he''d been told. Next to scores were the words, Profession: Master Craftsman, Special abilities: none. Underneath that was his wallet and special storage space. His wallet had the words ¡°0 credits¡± with some kind of frowny-face crying emoji. His storage space had the words Storage capacity infinite with a sideway 8. Items contained 0, again frowny-face-crying emoji, and in smaller letters the words. ¡°Maybe you should go kill some aliens.¡± He loaded the gun, threw on an old flak jacket. Not much, but better than nothing. He grabbed a wooden chair and held it in front of him for protection, and left the room to protect his family. Chapter 3 - Under Siege Chapter 3 Under Siege Uncle Ben''s Journey. Morning of the Alien Apocalypse Against all odds, Ben Anderson had left the blue room early that morning and somehow survived to see the sunrise. He was shocked to find that the green fluid he''d purchased from the alien known as Beginner''s Guide when he was drunk, and then injected into his arm as soon as he left the blue room, also while he was drunk, seemed to work. A cut on his hand, that should have taken days to heal, healed in hours, and his head only ached a little from last night''s drinking. A tiny silver lining on a giant shitty cloud. It was early morning, but he was already hot in his makeshift armor of leather pants, and jacket reinforced with Monster-tape and paperback books, strategically-placed to protect his vital organs. His bug-out bag, a heavy backpack filled with necessities: food, water, extra gun, bottles of good scotch (for trade), pulled at his shoulders and made his backache. He coasted down the street on his bike. Not his Triumph Classic motorcycle. That wouldn''t start. But his ten-speed bicycle he''d bought at a garage sale years ago. He''d always meant to ride it for exercise but never got around to it. He oiled it and pumped up the tires before leaving, but the tires were already starting to go flat. In front of him was a giant alien cockroach. Welcome to our brave new world, he thought. The cockroach was two feet long, half a foot wide, with tentacles that extended three feet in front of it. A display popped up in his mind: This is a crunchy. This crunchy wants to kill your family. Not every family member, just the fun ones you like hanging out with. The strangest thing about the alien invasion was the mental display that kept popping up every time he saw an alien. Each time the display said something different. The last crunchy he''d encountered, if its display could be believed, had come to this world illegally to steal his human job and healthcare. Ben was retired, and after his nightmarish experience a few years ago with hospital billing, he''d raise the white flag over that one too. Sadly that crunchy had been in no mood to negotiate. When he''d killed it with his shotgun, he''d gotten four credits from Beginner''s Guide and several snide comments about how any normal human would have stepped on the thing. Sure. Good way to lose a foot. The crunchy currently in Ben''s way made a loud clacking noise and flapped its three-foot-long wings. They could fly for short distances and would go straight for the neck and face. The alien roaches didn''t seem venomous, but Ben had learned the hard way they packed a nasty bite. Before he could shoot it, he heard a loud yell as someone jumped in front of him and attacked the crunchy with a big stick, clubbing it again and again with furious energy. He recognized the old man known as Crazy Steve who hung out at the nearby 7-11 begging for money. ¡°This is my territory. These are my aliens. You need to go kill your own aliens.¡± The old man said, brandishing his stick in Ben''s direction for emphasis. ¡°Hey Steve, how''s it going?¡± Ben asked. ¡°Ben? Oh, Ben!¡± Crazy Steve said, recognizing him. ¡°You were wrong about the aliens. They''re friendly! This is the best thing to happen to me!¡± Crazy Steve dropped his wooden stick and pulled out a small metal smoking pipe and a torch from his pants pocket. A rock the size of a Lima bean appeared in his hand. Crazy Steve put the ¡°rock¡± into his pipe. ¡°I kill aliens, and Beginner''s Guide hooks me up.¡± Crazy Steve looked up at the sky. ¡°Thanks, Beginner''s Guide! I love you! Yeah, I''ll kill some more aliens, just give me a minute.¡± Crazy Steve used the torch on the ¡°rock¡± and sucked on the pipe. Relaxing a bit, he walked over to the vacant lot next to the street, put his back against a large tree, and continued sucking on his crack pipe. Seriously? Ben thought. He pulled up his mental display. The Galactic Market had a vast selection of every imaginable product, for every imaginable price. He visualized drugs. What appeared on his display was a paragraph and a long list. ¡°Seeking alternate states of consciousness is a sacred human trait, and we would never attempt to prevent or interfere with this process. We do not offer alien medications, or recreational substances, because we do not know how they would react with human physiology. We offer a few human substances that we hope you will buy, and use to unwind after a long hard day of killing monstrous alien scum.¡± After the paragraph was a long list. Cocaine¡ªwater-soluble/non-water soluble Methamphetamine. LSD (D-lysergic acid diethylamide) PCP (phencyclidine) Psilocybin mushrooms Peyote Tobacco Coffee The list went on and on. The prices were pretty reasonable too. Good grief. No telling who''d take advantage of something like that. Exchanging alien-killing for drugs? You suck BG; he thought. In the sky, he saw a kid flying around with a jet pack. He visualized the kid''s jet pack. When he did, the kid''s jet pack appeared on his display. SUPER SOLAR POWERED JUNIOR JET PACK. 1000 credits. Turn sunlight into jet fuel and rule the sky! Note, gun costs extra. Note maximum lifting weight: 100 pounds. This means you, fat ass. Recommend SUPER SOLAR POWERED ULTRA JUMBO JET PACK. Maximum lifting weight 1000 pounds Complete with machine gun. 100,000 credits. Ben had 16 credits. So there went that idea. Ben felt a vibration in the ground, Crazy Steve looked around, feeling it too. Something shot out of the sand next to Crazy Steve, biting his shoulder and pulling him down. A display popped up with the alien. This is a squirmy. This squirmy sneaks into human bathrooms and uses human toothbrushes to clean its filthy alien mouth. The squirmy had a skinny eel-like body the width of a garden hose, and a large mouth full of long sharp teeth. Crazy Steve bit the alien''s body, using his head to shake it like a dog. If he''d had any teeth left, he might have had a chance. As it was, the squirmy ignored the old man, gumming it while sinking its own long sharp teeth deeper into the old man''s shoulder. Ben could see drops of blood landing on the sand nearby. Several more eel-like squirmies came out of the ground and latched onto different parts of the old man''s body. ¡°Ben! help me!¡± Crazy Steve cried out, still fighting the squirmies, looking desperate. Feeling helpless, Ben watched the eel things attack Crazy Steve. He couldn''t shoot the eel things without hitting Crazy Steve. He couldn''t cut Crazy Steve free without stepping into the vacant lot and probably getting eaten himself. Crazy Steve was a nice enough guy for a drug addict, but... Ben pulled out his old army survival knife and tossed it to Crazy Steve, hilt first. ¡°You got this, Steve. I got to run, family waiting!¡± Ben turned away and pushed off with his bike, peddling down the street. See, not a total douche, gave him a knife at least. I''ll be reincarnated as a larger slug, or a small snail even. Nothing you could have done, Ben. Keep moving. Pick your battles, got a family to look after. He''d been thinking of cutting across a few vacant lots to take a mile off his journey, but now he wasn''t going to. He looked up in time to see a pterodactyl-like monstrosity swoop down and take out the kid with a jet pack. Awe shit. Poor kid, he thought. This was going to be a long trip. *** 3 days later ¡°So I have to kill alien monsters, to gain skill and stat points, to kill alien monsters?¡± Gabe, aka Zoltron The Mighty Wizard, said, stirring his cup of water. He was trying to create a small whirlpool or water vortex and having little success. ¡°Life isn''t fair, kid,¡± Uncle Ben responded. ¡°No point in crying about it. By the way, cockroach (crunchy) meat does not taste like lobster. Beginner''s Guide lied to us. Maybe lobster that sat out in the sun for twelve hours... but not anything edible.¡± ¡°Could we eat it if we were starving?¡± Dad asked.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°I wouldn''t advise it.¡± Uncle Ben answered. Uncle Ben had stumbled in on the first day of the alien apocalypse. He''d lost his bike and his pack on the way over but brought grim stories of what he''d seen. He''d given each family member a painful injection of a green alien fluid he''d bought from Beginner''s Guide. He swore the injection would keep them healthy. The jury was still out on that one, but Uncle Ben was convinced. Ian listened to his family talk. It was the third day of the alien apocalypse, and they were sitting around the living room. He took a sip of his second cup of lukewarm coffee. He hated the bitter taste, but he hoped it would stimulate his gifts. The first night of the apocalypse, Dad made them board up every window and block every conceivable opening an alien might use to enter the house. Several alien giant cockroaches (crunchies) had found their way inside. Ian hated normal-sized cockroaches, these made him want to run away screaming. Gabe had found if you held out an alien light, and told it to stay, it would hold its position in the air until somebody touched it again. Three alien lights floated over the coffee table, adding to the creep factor of their already horrible situation. The alien lights looked like glowing marbles and had been purchased from the Galactic Market. Ian flicked one of the lights with his index finger. It flew about six feet until air resistance made it stop. Gabe, self-appointed alien-light guardian, went over, cupped the light in his hands, and blew on it. It grew brighter, and floated back to where it had been, sitting there as if nothing had happened. Ian held his cell phone. Three days before, his cell phone had been a huge part of his life, he''d be texting someone or playing one of his games. ¡°OMG Alien Apocalypse Sucks!¡± he imagined texting Tyson, one of his gaming buddies. Now after the apocalypse, his expensive cell phone might make a decent paperweight. ¡°Thing is Gabe, every once in a while it''s unfair in your favor.¡± Uncle Ben continued. ¡°Beginners Guide or BG wouldn''t take my deed to the Brooklyn Bridge, or my NASA claim to mining rights on the moon, but it took my House, Social Security, and retirement fund, which are worth the same as the other two.¡± ¡°If things ever go back to normal, you''ll regret that one,¡± Dad said. ¡°I found something interesting. Stacy''s custom-made guns cost two hundred and fifty credits, but the closest thing I could find to a cell phone, that is a long-distance-portable-two-way communication device, costs one hundred thousand galactic credits. The aliens have cut us off from the outside world.¡± ¡°Healthy and cut off. That''s something. My allergies were killing me before the invasion. Now? Nothing.¡± Uncle Ben responded. Gabe snorted. ¡°Good to know when you''re eaten alive by aliens, your allergies won''t be acting up.¡± ¡°That''s what I thought. If an alien starts chewing on me, I''ll be thinking, if my allergies were acting up, this would really suck.¡± Uncle Ben responded. By the third afternoon, they''d all settled into a routine. They spent the night in shifts as their family took turns doing guard duty. The three kids spent their shifts with either Ben or Dad. Though Stacy (Kid Barbie) was good with her pistols, at eleven her dad and uncle didn''t think she had the judgment to be left on her own. Uncle Ben, self-appointed cook, cooked their meals, kept an eye on things, told everyone stories, and bitched about Dad, a non-drinker, not having alcohol in the house. A flying thing had stolen Ben''s pack, along with his alcohol, on his way to their house. Dad would then point out that Uncle Ben was welcome to go out and look for some, at which point the complaints would stop, at least for a while. Dad spent his time wandering around the house mumbling to himself, checking inventory, and working on various projects. Stacy was on permanent alien patrol duty, which left Gabe and Ian doing crap jobs nobody else wanted. Such as dishwashing, and Ian''s least favorite, bathroom duty. Dad and Ben had blocked off the drainpipes, so every couple of days the toilet had to be emptied into the garbage. Ian kept losing the coin toss for this job to Gabe, causing him to wonder if maybe there was something to Gabe''s wizard nonsense. ¡°It''s never unfair in my favor,¡± Gabe whined. Join the club, Ian thought. He took another sip of his coffee, almost gagging on the taste. He kept trying to activate his power, to get it to do anything. So far... zip. He tried to clean his glasses again. He was nearsighted, but the lenses were blurry now and gave him headaches. Could Uncle Ben''s shot be changing his vision? Something grabbed him from behind ¡°Gotcha!¡± Ian screamed and jumped three feet. His coffee went flying, splattering him and everything else within a six-foot radius. His mug shattered on the hard-wood floor. He cursed loudly. Stacie''s head appeared several feet away as her alien skin hood came off. She was rolling on the floor laughing. ¡°Oh god that was so great, you should see you.¡± She laughed even harder. Ian threw his cellphone. It bounced off the couch and hit Fluffy, who ran off with a loud meowr. The phone''s screen cracked, again. Three days ago he might have cared. ¡°You want to know what sucks the most about this apocalypse?¡± Ian said fighting back tears. ¡°Nothing has changed. I''m still a worthless waste of space who can''t play sports and has no useful skills. I wasn''t great at video games, but at least they were fun and if you died, you could re-spawn. This is the real world trapped in a video game, and I''m going to die.¡± He stormed off into his room before anyone could see him crying. ¡°Let him go, give him time to calm down,¡± Uncle Ben said. ¡°Got to admit Carl, that armor is some of your better work. She is hard to see.¡± ¡°Damn straight,¡± Dad responded. Besides her helmet, chest plate, and armored vest that went down to her thighs, and arm, shin, and knee pads for her extremities, they''d covered her with alien plushie skin. The skins'' original owners were dead, but the skin held its late owner''s camouflage capabilities blending flawlessly with the environment. ¡°So when do I get armor?¡± Gabe asked. ¡°I told you when I get more materials,¡± Dad answered. ¡°Also Stacy killed those alien plushies, so it''s only fair she gets to wear them.¡± Ian leaned against a wall in his bedroom, closed his eyes, and slumped into a sitting position with his arms around his knees. He knew if he opened his eyes he''d see all kinds of things in the darkened room that weren''t there, but if he kept them closed, he wouldn''t. He tried not to think about the noises he heard from outside. Sounds of alien monsters, occasional gunshots, screams. He pulled up his display. Moving past the front display screen with his name and basic info everyone could see, Lord Ian Mind Master. He pulled up his stat sheet. Name Lord Ian Mind Master Sex Male Age 13 Physical Attributes 3.3 With 10 being an Olympic athlete, and 1 being an invalid in a wheelchair, you are 3.3. Mental Attributes 7.8 With 10 being a super-genius, and 1 being severely retarded, you are 7.8 Status among peers Low Your peers consider you a nerd and spasticle. Spasticle, is a human slang word that means an uncoordinated, clumsy person. Claims to fame. Coach Benson considers you the worst player to try out for his little league baseball team, in the fifty years he coached baseball. Special abilities Psychic. New, level 0. You are a New level 0 psychic, only because I''m not allowed to assign negative numbers to your special ability levels. Ian had received two worthless gifts from Beginner''s Guide, and there were no do-overs. He''d already tried, BG continued to ignore him. He''d had his share of problems in the past, but things had never seemed quite this hopeless. He got rid of his personal display. He heard the door slowly slide open. ¡°Go away, Stacy,¡± he said. She didn''t answer. ¡°I''m the waste of space, how come I''m sensing fear from you?¡± ¡°Why would I be afraid?¡± Stacy asked. He could tell she was standing in front of him now. ¡°Everybody is counting on you,¡± Ian said. ¡°Somebody gets hurt or killed, it''s your fault. Don''t worry, we''ll just hate you forever... Ow.¡± She kicked his shin, then sat down next to him. ¡°This armor is hot, and it pinches when I sit down. Dad''s so proud of it I don''t dare say anything, but yeah, I''m terrified. There''s some scary stuff out there. Kid Barbie just had to deal with zombies. Those are easy,¡± she said. ¡°At least your aim''s getting better, you hit the poor cat.¡± Ian laughed. ¡°I threw the phone at you, I would never hit the cat deliberately, and I was guessing with the fear. You should have told me I was wrong, I''d have believed you. So what does your mental display look like? Mine is covered with tentacled frowny faces and the words ''Lazy human. You should kill some alien scum'', over and over again.¡± ¡°Beginner''s Guide likes me, so mine is covered with tentacled happy faces, and the words, ''You should kill more alien scum'', over and over. Why would an alien send aliens for us to kill? What''s the point?¡± she asked. ¡°Entertainment,¡± Ian answered. ¡°I always suspected someone up there was watching me and laughing. Now I know for sure.¡± ¡°Dad''s after me to pay down the principle of my gun loan, But I couldn''t resist getting this Super Awesome Tasting Candy. Ten for a credit.¡± She handed him one. He put it in his mouth. ¡°I don''t know if it''s super awesome tasting, but it''s pretty good,¡± Ian said. It slowly melted in his mouth. He could taste lemon, pineapple, cherry, and a bunch of things he couldn''t identify. He sighed. Focusing on the candy, not thinking about anything. ¡°HELP!¡± Ian sensed a mental scream and felt a sense of suffocating panic so strong he jumped up and ran back to the living room, gasping for breath. ¡°We have to do something! A woman and kid are going to die unless we do something!¡± ¡°I didn''t do it this time. I swear,¡± Stacy''s head said from his bedroom doorway. ¡°A woman with a kid two houses that way,¡± Ian pointed. ¡°If we don''t help them right now, they''re going to die.¡± Ian looked around, his entire family staring at him. His dad took a deep breath. ¡°You may not have noticed, Ian, but we''re not doing great ourselves. Let''s assume this vision is real. Where are they exactly? And rescue them from what?¡± ¡°It''s an old woman and a kid, two houses away,¡± Ian said. ¡°The woman''s desperate, they''re trapped somewhere, something is getting through. That''s all I know. ¡°I bet it''s Old Lady Crabapple,¡± said Stacy. ¡°She lives on that corner, she was always getting mad because I''d pick crabapples from her tree. They taste horrible, but they''re great for throwing.¡± ¡°The Crabtree''s are good people,¡± Dad said. ¡°Ellen Crabtree''s a nice enough person. She''s given me stuff from her garden, but I''m not sure I want to die for her. Who would we send? And what would we do if they don''t come back?¡± ¡°We were talking about looking for supplies anyway,¡± said Uncle Ben. ¡°I say we take a quick peek. If it''s more than we can handle, we head back. If Ian''s right, I''d have trouble living with myself if I didn''t try to help.¡± ¡°But is he right?¡± asked Gabe, ¡°and I say we send the one with armor,¡± he looked pointedly at Stacy. Uncle Ben took a deep breath. ¡°I''ll go. There are things out there that Kid Barbie''s guns can''t handle.¡± ¡°I should go too, I may get another vision, that will tell us more,¡± said Ian. ¡°If Ian''s going, I''m going. Experience is the only way any of us is getting better,¡± said Gabe. ¡°I guess it''s decided,¡± Dad responded with a sigh. ¡°Ben, you take the lead. Me and Kid Barbie will take the rear. Ian and Gabe will be in the middle. Everyone stay calm, keep it together; anything goes wrong, we head straight home. Hopefully, nobody dies.¡± It took them ten minutes to get ready. They gathered weapons and ammo. Carl loaded a pack with odds and ends, just in case. Uncle Ben threw on his armor and cleaned his sawed-off shotgun. Stacy bought some more ammo for her guns, just in case. Ian and Gabe grabbed baseball bats. Once everyone was ready, Uncle Ben opened the front door, and one by one they stepped out into the bright afternoon sun and fresh air. For the first time in three days, they were outside. Outside scary silence surrounded them punctuated with distant roars and gunshots. The Crabtree''s front yard was covered with glass and debris. He sensed they were being watched. With a sick feeling, it dawned on Ian that he might get himself, and his family killed trying to rescue people he didn''t even know. Chapter 4 - The Rescue Chapter 4 The Rescue Outside an eerie silence surrounded them, broken up by distant roars of monsters, gunshots, and the occasional scream. Ian watched from the doorway as Uncle Ben crept out the front door, through the yard, and down the driveway, slipping behind Dad''s Toyota for concealment. Uncle Ben wiped the sweat from his forehead and waved for the rest to join him. Ian saw a couple flapys, giant flying creatures that looked like pterodactyls, soaring in the distance. ¡°This flapy is soaring on rising air-currents, not hurting anyone.¡± According to Uncle Ben, they''d swoop down on you when you least expected it. That was how he''d lost his backpack. In the house across the street, an old black man watched them from behind a broken window. Ian didn''t know his neighbors, but was pretty sure he''d never seen this man before. ¡°It''s not fair,¡± Gabe complained. ¡°BG gave Stacy a loan, gave jet pack kid a loan, but it won''t even talk to me.¡± ¡°Jet pack kid?¡± Ian asked. ¡°Some kid I spotted flying around with a jet pack. A flying alien took the kid out. It gave that kid a loan, but me? No.¡± Uncle Ben put his finger on his lips and made a shushing noise, then he pointed at what looked like a fat horse-sized creature with a gray armadillo-like shell. Its screen popped up. ¡°This is a prickly. Pricklys like to eat human children. You should kill this prickly for human honor.¡± The prickly was eating some grass from a crack in the sidewalk about twenty feet away. ¡°It''s slow, but if you get close to it, it shoots spikes from its body,¡± Uncle Ben whispered, ¡°and it''s armored. I shot one three days ago when I was on the way here. There was an explosion of spikes everywhere. I was behind a wall or it would have killed me. The prickly I shot wandered off as if nothing happened. I say we wait for it to leave.¡± Three shots rang out, echoing through the empty street. With a cry, the prickly fell on its side, died, and vanished. Ian saw the air ripple as Stacy''s plushie pelts blended with her surroundings. She raced back to rejoin them. ¡°I would have said that was a terrible idea, but I guess it worked,¡± Uncle Ben whispered. ¡°I shot it in the mouth, killed it instantly,¡± she said. ¡°Let''s go.¡± ¡°We''re talking about this later,¡± Dad said. ¡°Look, Gabe.¡± Ian whispered, ¡°BG has a one-track mind. If you showed it you could kill a bunch of aliens tomorrow, it would lend you credits, but when you say you might kill a bunch of aliens two years from now, you''re out of luck.¡± They crept along, watching for Uncle Ben''s signal. Kid Barbie fired her pistols twice, taking out two reptilian alien plushies sunning themselves in a nearby yard. Uncle Ben looked around, then gave a thumbs-up signal. They moved forward again. ¡°It''s still not fair,¡± Gabe whined. ¡°If I could master a few decent spells, I''d kill way more aliens than Kid Barbie here.¡± At the Crabtrees''s residence, it was obvious something was wrong. The doors were closed, but the right side of the house was severely damaged. Pieces of window and drywall were scattered around what had been a well-maintained lawn. Ian got a second impression, fear, stronger this time. From the damaged corner of the house, they heard a faint cry for help. ¡°She''s hiding in her closet with her granddaughter. We don''t have much time!¡± said Ian. Dad and Kid Barbie moved cautiously to the right side of the house. Gabe followed Ian and Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben tried the front door. Finding it locked, he reared back and kicked. The front door didn''t budge. Uncle Ben cursed quietly and favored his right foot.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Ian found a key underneath one of the potted plants. He unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open. Uncle Ben limped inside. Ian heard shrieks of alien plushies before they attacked, then two shots from a sawed-off shotgun. Then... ¡°All clear,¡± from Uncle Ben. From another room, they heard a second muffled, ¡°Help,¡±. Ian entered quickly, eyes getting used to the dim light. The two plushies might be dead, but at least one giant cockroach (crunchy) was not. It made a clacking noise as it advanced on him from the corner of the room. It was over three feet long and close to a foot wide. Ian desperately swung at it with his bat. He missed. The crunchy charged. Ian cried out and flung himself backward, hitting a lamp-stand, knocking it over. The large lamp sitting on top of the lamp-stand somehow landed on the cockroach thing, killing it. His screen popped up. It was now filled with tentacled smiley faces, and what looked like fireworks going off, and the words ¡°You have killed your first alien!¡± He could swear he heard the tune of The Star-Spangled Banner coming from BG. ¡°Cut it out!¡± Ian shouted. ¡°Come on Ian, get it together!¡± his father snapped, yanking him to his feet. He motioned towards something Ian hadn''t noticed before. A thick grayish-green ooze, coming from the damaged corner of the house, moving in their direction. It made the oddest noise. A high pitched grinding that reminded him of a dentist''s drill. He realized the sound was from the alien ooze eating everything in its path, including the tile floor. A screen appeared over the ooze. ¡°This is a cuddle. This cuddle entered your world illegally. It does not pay taxes, or do anything to contribute to your human way of life.¡± Ian noticed the screen did not say how to kill it. ¡°Ideas?¡± Uncle Ben asked, backing away. ¡°If it has a non-centralized nervous system, it won''t do any good to shoot it,¡± said Gabe, helpful for once. Dad pulled a thin wooden stick from his backpack and lit it. He poked the cuddle with it. The cuddle hissed and backed away. Dad pulled out a bottle of what smelled like gasoline and poured some on the cuddle, then he used the burning stick to ignite the liquid. The cuddle let out a sound between a hiss and a scream, emitting a foul smell as it folded into itself, retreating. Dad followed it, pouring more gas on the fire. Gabe raised his hand and seemed to concentrate. The blaze doubled in size, burning faster. They followed the cuddle as it retreated into the next room. It was the room with the broken wall and window. There were blast marks on the walls, and two human-shaped lumps underneath the cuddle. One was adult-sized, the other the size of a small child. Dad emptied the bottle, pouring it onto the thing. He capped the bottle, put it back in his pack, then pulled out a second bottle and emptied it onto the cuddle, stepping away from the heat the fire produced. The cuddle retreated out the broken window, turning into a sick dark lump on the lawn before vanishing. When Ian saw what the cuddle had been covering, he shuddered and gagged. Two half-eaten skeletons. One adult, one child. There wasn''t much left of the closet the two survivors were hiding in. It had eaten through the door. It was clear Ellen had kept herself and her granddaughter alive by using monster tape and clothes to reinforce the closet door. It was this cloth barrier that the cuddle had almost made it through before they arrived. They heard a tearing sound as an exhausted old woman and a girl of about nine pulled down the barrier from the inside. ¡°About time you guys showed up,¡± the woman said. She staggered out of the closet. Her left hand was wrapped in rags and monster tape. ¡°Let''s get you guys somewhere safe...-er,¡± said Dad. ¡°And I hate to ask, but we''re almost out of food and propane.¡± ¡°Storage room, camp supplies, help yourselves,¡± she said. ¡°What''s going on out there?¡± ¡°It''s not good,¡± Dad said. ¡°We''ve been holed up at our place until Ian heard you calling for help.¡± When Ben came back with a box of camp supplies and some blankets, Ellen used two of the blankets to wrap the two skeletons the best she could, and laid them out, side by side. ¡°My two boys. We''ll be back to give them a proper funeral. Danny must have told that thing he wanted to be one of those TV cartoon characters. He came back with grenades.¡± ¡°Mutant Bob? I used to love that show,¡± Stacy said. ¡°He''d throw grenades at all the bad guys.¡± ¡°Cartoon characters blow themselves up, and come right back,¡± Ellen responded. ¡°Humans are not so lucky.¡± Gabe who''d been quietly walking around the room snorted. ¡°BG gave a six-year-old grenades to blow himself up with, but I''m a poor candidate for a loan?¡± Ian felt waves of anger coming off the older woman and stepped back. She walked up to Gabe and smacked him with her good hand, hard. ¡°I realize you just saved our lives, but you do not disrespect a six-year-old boy who died protecting his family. Boy did the best he could... If that creature didn''t give you something, count your blessings.¡± There was no place to sit down, but Ellen kind of slumped over. ¡°I could really use some water. I''m Ellen, and this is Sabrina, my granddaughter.¡± The girl stared at them from behind her grandmother, silent. ¡°That hand doesn''t look so good,¡± Ben said, handing her a water bottle. Ian noticed Ellen''s makeshift bandage was turning red. ¡°Got some of that cuddle thing on me. Ate my hand to the bone before I could get it off.¡± ¡°Got something to help if you''re interested. I bought one for Carl''s ex-wife, but she lives over fifty miles away, and the way things are now, she...¡± Uncle Ben pulled out a syringe of the same green liquid he''d given the rest. ¡°I''ll take what I can get,¡± she said. He jabbed her arm with the syringe. Ian knew from experience it hurt. She didn''t even flinch. ¡°We need to go before something else shows up,¡± Dad said. He stuffed useful supplies into his pack and gave Gabe and Ian heavy bags to carry. Soon they were outside again, on their way back. Chapter 5 - Escape Chapter 5 Escape Night of the Apocalypse Nursing Facility ¡°Yep, I went five rounds with Monster Alien,¡± Robert said. ¡°He was a big scary guy too, but I kicked his ass. They called me Robot, ¡®cause I was a boxing machine. Back then I¡¯d fight anyone, anytime. I was crazy. Don¡¯t get many visitors here, so you come by whenever you want. My daughter, she keeps saying she¡¯ll visit, but she lives in another state, hard for her to come by.¡± ¡°Fascinating. So you¡¯re a monster alien hater?¡± Beginner¡¯s Guide asked. ¡°No, I didn¡¯t hate him, Monster Alien, he was an okay guy, but when I¡¯m in the ring with somebody, they are not my friend. Monster Alien, he was the same way. Once we got in that ring together, we were both out for blood. Yep, I went five rounds with Monster Alien, I should tell you about that sometime. Had to retire from boxing soon after that, got hit in the head too many times, but those were the days.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to do this, Mr. Robot, so don¡¯t tell anyone, but you will wake up with a syringe next to your bed. Inject it into your arm immediately, because aliens will surround you, and they are out for your blood.¡± *** Three Days Later ¡°Don¡¯t know why Ellen got so upset, not like I killed her husband and grand-kid,¡± Gabe grumbled to himself, still mad about the way she¡¯d slapped him earlier. They headed home again, Gabe and Ian were loaded down with bags of supplies. Ellen, Sabrina, and Uncle Ben walked in front of them. Ellen carried a hunting rifle she¡¯d taken from her gun safe. Dad and Stacy brought up the rear. Ian felt something staring at him. He turned. A giant eye peeked shyly at them from above the roof of a nearby house. The giant eye ducked behind the roof when Ian looked back at it. Shit shit shit, Ian thought. The shooting and fire must have attracted it. ¡°Ben,¡± Ian hissed. ¡°We need to move! We got company!¡± ¡°What kind of company?¡± Uncle Ben asked. ¡°Don¡¯t know, but it¡¯s big,¡± Ian said. ¡°Shit. Let¡¯s move.¡± Uncle Ben picked up the pace. The alien popped up from behind the cement block fence next to the Anderson home, looking like something out of Ian¡¯s worst nightmares. No, it was worse than anything he could have dreamed up. If an insane person combined a spider, a snail, a piranha, a short fat centipede with really long legs, and then added five eyestalks, they might get something close to what was looking down on them now. Its head was black, with bright red dots and swirls that looked like tribal markings. Aside from that, the head consisted of little more than mouth and teeth. Its head sat on hundreds of long, rapidly moving legs. Ian noticed BG¡¯s mental display pop up. This is a crawly. This crawly will pretend to be your friend, but will talk about you behind your back. As usual, BG told them nothing about how to kill the thing. Uncle Ben, Stacy, Dad, and Ellen opened fire. The giant head was an easy target, and the bullets pushed it back, but they did little else. One shot severed an eye-stalk. Another eye-stalk popped up to replace one they¡¯d shot off. The head spun all the way around, revealing a second mouth behind the first one. Its second mouth was more insect-like, with sharp mandibles. It spat an enormous mass of thick green slime that slammed into Stacy, knocking her over. She struggled to get up. The green slime stuck to her like glue pinning her to the street. Ian dropped his bags and ran to help her. A childish voice came out of the crawly, like it had eaten a six-year-old girl and absorbed her voice. ¡°We are a peaceful, civilized life-form. I¡¯m glad we can sit down and discuss our differences like rational beings.¡± Unfortunately, there seemed no relation between the crawly¡¯s speech and its actions. They continued shooting, but the bullets didn¡¯t bother it. It rocked back again, then spat a second green mass at Uncle Ben. He ducked behind the white pickup truck parked across the street from Ian¡¯s house. The green mass splatted down on the truck, breaking the windshield. ¡°I¡¯m glad we could put your paranoid concerns behind us. Alien life-forms are not all trying to kill you,¡± the crawly said. A brick came out of nowhere and smacked the crawly¡¯s head. The brick didn¡¯t hurt the crawly, but it got the creature¡¯s attention. The old black man Ian had seen earlier walked casually down the street, holding a cane as if nothing was happening. ¡°You guys get inside, I got this,¡± he said. The crawly¡¯s five eyestalks turned to study this new threat. The crawly¡¯s eyes were rather pretty, Ian noticed. Large and blue with catlike pupils. Its head spun around and spat green stuff at the old man. The old man jumped ten feet to the side, effortlessly dodging it. ¡°You¡¯re too slow, big guy.¡± The crawly¡¯s legs went into action. It spun around and charged. ¡°We are a peaceful, civilized life form,¡± the crawly said again. It tried to impale the old man with one of its legs. The old man slid to the side, and in a quick motion, trapped the leg with his cane, and broke it. The old man got busy avoiding five or six other legs, and its enormous mouth, dodging or blocking them with his cane. Whoever the old man was, he was fast, moving with an economy of motion that was amazing to watch. Dad grabbed Stacy¡¯s arm and heaved, causing some fibers to snap, but most held firm. He pulled out a long hunting knife and started sawing. The fibers in the green slime were sticky and hard to cut. As he cut, the fibers stuck to his knife, making it useless. ¡°Everybody stay calm. Ian, Gabe, get to the house now! We¡¯ll meet you there.¡± Dad¡¯s hands shook, he was nowhere near as calm as he tried to appear. Gabe ran off, joining Ellen and her granddaughter on their front porch. Ian didn¡¯t move. This alien had to have a weakness, didn¡¯t it? Uncle Ben ran up to the crawly to get a better shot. The crawly backed away, maneuvering itself into a better position. A leg shot out. Uncle Ben¡¯s armor saved him from being impaled, but it slammed him against the white pickup truck. His shotgun went flying, Uncle Ben crawled away.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. There was something creepy about how the crawly moved its hundreds of legs in unison. The crawly always kept one set of legs facing its opponents. This seemed odd, considering the crawly¡¯s head could turn all the way around. Why would the crawly care which leg it used to impale its victims? The crawly wasn¡¯t stupid. It used its green slime on the camouflaged human first and then went after the rest of them. The crawly had to have a weak point. If it wasn¡¯t the thing¡¯s head or eyes, then what? Ian almost laughed, it was so obvious. ¡°Stacy, shoot that leg!¡± Ian shouted, pointing at the leg it kept maneuvering to protect. This leg was thicker than the other legs. This leg must contain something vital. Brain maybe? ¡°What? why?¡± Stacy asked, fighting to get free of the slime. Ian could see she was panicking. ¡°Just do it! Shoot that leg!¡± ¡°Ian, I told you to get your ass to the house!¡± Dad shouted. Dad kept sawing at the green slime with his useless knife, making little progress. Stacy¡¯s left arm and hand were free enough to shoot, so she pointed her gun at the crawly and fired. ¡°Not that leg, the other leg!¡± Ian shouted, panicking himself. She fired five more times. This time her bullets severed the thicker leg, along with three others. The crawly stiffened, freezing up, then crashed to the ground. It had time to say one last ¡°peaceful lifeforrrm,¡± before vanishing. Ian¡¯s mental display popped up. You have contributed to killing a class 3 alien monster! Because you are a worthless human with no significant talent, your reward is 80 credits and a 1 stat point increase! Yay! ¡°How did you know?¡± Dad asked, looking impressed. ¡°I sensed it,¡± Ian lied. ¡°Guess that psychic stuff isn¡¯t worthless after all,¡± Dad responded. ¡°You guys make it hard to save you,¡± the old man said, as he helped Uncle Ben to his feet and joined them. ¡°I was trying to lure that thing away, so you could escape. My name¡¯s Robert, by the way.¡± ¡°We appreciate that. I¡¯m Carl Anderson, and this is my idiot brother Ben. If you guys could help me get my daughter free? We can get inside before something else shows up.¡± ¡°I might be of help,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Once you guys killed that thing, this showed up in my inventory.¡± He held out a tiny green bottle with the words Slime Cleaner on it. ¡°I hope it¡¯s strong. This is all BG gave me.¡± Gabe made a show of blowing on the bottle and rolling it between his hands. He put a drop on the thickest part of the green slime holding down Stacy. The drop made a big, rapidly expanding hole in the slime. Two drops later, Stacy was free. As soon as Stacy could, she jumped up and ran for the house. It was clear she did not like being trapped. ¡°I don¡¯t remember much,¡± Robert said. Once they were safely inside, drinking coffee, Uncle Ben heated. ¡°I was in this nursing home, and three nights ago I woke up. These monsters were everywhere. I had my speed back though. I¡¯m not as strong as I was in my twenties, but I¡¯m faster than I ever was. I fought those things off with this cane I found.¡± He held up his battered, steel-tipped cane for emphasis. ¡°It was a nightmare; alien monsters eating the dead and dying. I joined a group of old folk and staff, and got out of there. I wanted to hole up, but some of the staff worried about their kids, so I went with them. I lost them when we got attacked by something. I holed up in that house across the street... Hoping I could stay there until I figure out where to go.¡± ¡°Kind of up to the couple living there,¡± Carl responded. ¡°About that,¡± Robert said. ¡°When I entered the house, I found two giant fat alien plushies, and three skinny ones. I killed them, of course. Didn¡¯t find no people.¡± ¡°Tell you what. If the Dunman¡¯s show up and want their place back, we¡¯ll help you find a new place and get moved in. Do you have any family?¡± Carl asked. ¡°A daughter in California. I think. We fell out of touch. Haven¡¯t seen her in years.¡± ¡°Let us know if you need anything,¡± said Carl, extending his hand. And then, after a round of handshaking, the adults kept talking. Ian tuned them out and pulled up his mental display to check his stat increase. Next to the increase were the words: This is for a subcategory stat, you greedy human. Great, Ian thought. A long list of physical and mental sub-stats appeared. Endurance, spacial-relations, memory, visual perception, etc. Then the words. Note. Your stat point could stack with your gifts, strengthening them. If you want to use your stat point in such a stupid fashion, I cannot stop you. ¡°Have you gotten any stat increases?¡± Ian asked Stacy. Sabrina had curled up on the livingroom sofa to sleep, and the three siblings retired to Stacy¡¯s room. ¡°No, but I got several gun upgrades,¡± she said. She was trying to read one of her old graphic novels while picking at stray pieces of green slime stuck to her hair and clothing. A lack of electricity or internet limited their entertainment. ¡°How do those work?¡± Ian asked. ¡°It¡¯s complicated,¡± Stacy answered. ¡°Mostly what kind of bullet you can use, and how much energy is used to push the bullet forward. Dad lent me a book. Kid Barbie shoots 44 caliber bullets. They¡¯re big bullets, great for zombies, but they¡¯re slow. They¡¯ll push something back, but they won¡¯t go through armor.¡± ¡°So, the question is, what are you planning to shoot?¡± Ian responded, trying to understand. ¡°And we have no idea,¡± said Stacy. ¡°So I put half the upgrades into increasing the gun¡¯s power, and the other half in modifying the bullet, so it lets me change the type of bullet I use when I shoot. Not sure how that works, I think I concentrate, and the bullet changes.¡± ¡°Neat. Want to know what else is pretty neat? The way I saved all our lives today,¡± Ian said. ¡°No, you didn¡¯t,¡± Gabe and Stacy said at the same time. ¡°Finding a weak point in a monster¡¯s defense provides useful support so the real lifesaver could do her thing,¡± said Gabe, doing something at Stacy¡¯s desk with a knife, a timer, and a microscope. ¡°Like he said,¡± came Stacy¡¯s response. ¡°Well, either way you look at it, it was pretty amazing, so I was wondering if you could do something for me,¡± Ian said. ¡°What?¡± she asked. ¡°Teach me how to shoot,¡± Ian said. ¡°You¡¯re so stupid. You could have just asked,¡± Stacy responded. ¡°Don¡¯t make it like I owe you one. You¡¯re not touching my Kid Barbie pistols, but you¡¯re welcome to my air gun.¡± ¡°Mind Mastering not working for you?¡± Gabe asked. ¡°I think we all need certain skills if we want to survive,¡± Ian answered. ¡°You saw what happened to the Crabtrees. We¡¯ve been lucky.¡± ¡°Remember gun safety,¡± Stacy said, as she watched him struggling with her air pistol. ¡°Never point a gun at someone you¡¯re not planning to shoot. And you know you¡¯re supposed to hit the target, right?¡± ¡°This is harder than it looks.¡± Ian struggled to hold the pistol steady and point the gun at the tiny target on the other side of the room. ¡°Want to see something?¡± Stacy took the pistol from him. She closed her eyes and spun around several times. Then facing the wall away from the target, eyes closed, she pointed the gun behind her and fired. Ian saw a small hole appear in the center of the target. ¡°Okay. How did you do that?¡± Ian asked. ¡°No trick. If I know where the target is, I can hit it. Because of BG.¡± Ian sighed, took the gun back, and kept practicing. ¡°How long before I get skill points in this?¡±. Gabe snorted, ¡°Not enough time in the life of the universe.¡± ¡°Gabe, you got a sec? I got something for you.¡± Dad said from the living room. Ian looked out and noticed Robert had finally left. ¡°I¡¯m checking for nanites,¡± Ian heard Gabe say. ¡°I think BG is using nanites, that is microscopic robots, to accomplish her effects, but I keep getting a mental interface message from BG saying ¡®there are no nanites, and they don¡¯t want you bothering them.'' So I think I¡¯m onto something.¡° ¡°Good. I thought about what you were saying earlier. So I got you two books. The first is your spell-book, the second is our new monster manual. I¡¯d like you to draw pictures of the monsters we¡¯ve encountered, give a brief description of the monster, and how to kill them. We can share the book with other people, find out what they know, and possibly save lives.¡± ¡°These are notebooks, with nothing but blank pages,¡± Gabe whined. ¡°We have to start somewhere. The world¡¯s first wizards didn¡¯t have spell-books. They had to write their own. That¡¯s where you are now. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll meet other wizards eventually, and they can help, but for now, think of both books as works in progress.¡± Gabe snorted. ¡°This doesn¡¯t help much.¡± ¡°I know, Gabe, but we all have to start someplace. You¡¯re welcome to use my science books and equipment, and you¡¯ll get the next suit of armor. If you can quit whining all the time,¡± Dad answered. ¡°I know you helped me with the cuddle. How many credits did you get?¡± ¡°Ten credits,¡± Gabe answered. ¡°So you helped. You should be proud of that. I got inferior quality spider silk thread from the crawly. Which makes me wonder what we would have to kill to get high-quality spider silk? Let¡¯s get ahead of this. We need to prepare.¡± ¡°I suppose,¡± Gabe responded. ¡°Thank you.¡± *** ¡°Ian. What did you sense from Robert?¡± Dad asked later. Ian could hear Ellen snoring quietly on the couch next to Sabrina. ¡°You think he might be dangerous?¡± Ian asked. ¡°He seems like an okay guy, but if things go bad, it¡¯s not like we can call the cops, and that old guy is pretty tough.¡± ¡°He seemed okay, lonely maybe,¡± said Ian, hoping he was right. ¡°Good. Don¡¯t ever think you¡¯re a waste of space. We saved a couple lives today because of you. Let me know immediately if you pick up on something. I¡¯m counting on you.¡± Dad held out a hand. ¡°What¡¯s cool these days? Fist bump? Handshake?¡± ¡°As long as we don¡¯t have to hug,¡± Ian responded, bumping fists with his dad. ¡°I¡¯m taking first watch, Ben¡¯s taking second. I¡¯ll let you decide which watch you¡¯re taking,¡± Dad said. ¡°I¡¯ll take the second watch. Suddenly I¡¯m exhausted,¡± Ian said. He pulled his air mattress into the living room. Sleeping was no longer a private thing, for obvious reasons. Too many things went bump in the night. ¡°Put my stat increase towards my psychic gifts,¡± he told BG. He could swear he heard BG sigh. His one stat point vanished from his mental display. He felt no different. He needed to play this game to win. People were depending on him. No pressure. Chapter 6 - The Chosen One Chapter 6 The Chosen One The Seventh Day Post Apocalypse World Population 3 billion. Night of the Apocalypse Small Apartment ¡°Last time I had a nightmare, debt collectors were hounding me while I was standing in front of my class wearing nothing but underwear,¡± Maxwell said. ¡°This is a step up.¡± ¡°I assure you, Maxwell Durham, you are not having a nightmare,¡± Beginner''s guide said. ¡°Billions of monsters are being released into your world. Human boys like yourself are their favorite prey. Fight hard young human!¡± ¡°Any chance you could make monsters that go after debt collectors?¡± ¡°Because you are young, you may choose the type of character you wish to become,¡± Beginner''s Guide continued. ¡°Perhaps a warrior from your past.¡± ¡°I like the Red Baron,¡± Maxwell said. ¡°I have models of his planes hanging from my ceiling: The Halberstadt, Albatros D-III, the Fokker Dr. 1. Me and my dad used to work on them before Dad... died. If I have a choice, I want to fight off aliens from the air. The German WWI fighter planes were excellent for their time... but if I''m fighting off aliens, I want to do it in a star-fighter.¡± ¡°Fascinating,¡± Beginner''s Guide said. ¡°Maxwell Durham, I am very sorry, but issuing humans star-fighters is against the rules. It is very unfair and I apologize. If you like, I can issue you a solar-powered fighter plane with a machine gun, to eliminate alien filth from the air. Because I cannot issue you a star-fighter, I will reduce the price of this fighter plane and make it a permanent part of your inventory for ease of transport. I am also prepared to augment your physical stats to improve your flying abilities and download some basic flying lessons into your brain. I will even duplicate the markings of this Red Baron''s aircraft on your own so you will look good, and not like a loser human who doesn''t kill aliens.¡± ¡°Solar-powered?¡± ¡°I''m afraid there is no other option, Maxwell Durham. All galactic market machinery is powered by the sun. You may think of it as fusion-powered if you prefer.¡± ¡°How fast is this plane? What are its capabilities?¡± ¡°I''m afraid your new plane will be slow by the standards of your human aircraft, but if you kill lots of alien monsters, you will upgrade your airplane and increase its speed and maneuverability. If you fail to kill alien monsters, or you get eaten, I will have to take your plane back.¡± ¡°So as long as I kill alien monsters, I get to fly around in an airplane. Cool! I''ve always wanted to fly, but we don''t have any money, and Mom thinks I''m too young.¡± ¡°I suppose you would like me to name your character after the Red Baron?¡± Beginner''s Guide asked. ¡°Obviously.¡± Maxwell Durham woke up. That was a strange nightmare, he thought, looking out into the darkness. Night lights were for babies. He saw writing in the air. Removing your airplane from your inventory in an enclosed space can cause injury to yourself and others, as well as damaging your plane. Fight hard, Red Baron. Your people need you. *** ¡°The Crunchy--aka Giganthropus Cockroachus, resembles a giant cockroach, and has been observed up to 3 feet long, 6 inches tall, and can weigh up to 50 pounds. This is a level 1 monster. They move quickly, and their bite, though painful, is non-venomous. A solid blow to the body will kill or disable this alien monster. Do not run away screaming like my idiot brother. Correction. after conferring with my father, and my idiot brother Ian Anderson. Retreating quickly and making loud noises to startle a Crunchy is an ineffective strategy of defense, and is not recommended. ¡ªNotes from the Anderson Monster Manual¡ªa work in progress. *** Seven Days Post Apocalypse ¡°No would be an infinite understatement, Stacy. In fact, if you take the ''can I play in the zoo enclosure with hungry lions? No'', and factor it to the infinite power, you will have the level of no I''m giving you now.¡± Dad said. ¡°So that''s a big no?¡± Stacy asked. ¡°That''s an over-my-dead-body, no,¡± Dad answered. ¡°But Dad! I''d be with other people. I''d be safe!¡± Stacy protested. ¡°All we know about MonsterMart is people go in, they do not come out. I don''t know what''s in there. Until we do, you are not going near it.¡± ¡°It seems like easy money,¡± Stacy protested. ¡°I''d like to pay off my pistols before hell freezes over.¡± ¡°Fuck your pistols!¡± Dad shouted. His family shrank away as he stormed off. ¡°It''s okay, Stacy, your dad''s worried,¡± Ellen said, putting her hands on Stacy''s shoulders. ¡°I''m sick of being cooped up in this place,¡± Stacy said. ¡°I have half a mind to go by myself. It''s only ten blocks.¡± ¡°Our new neighbor, Robert, is planning to drop by MonsterMart to look around, and maybe do some shopping,¡± Ellen said. ¡°Wait until he comes back. If he says it''s okay, we''ll all go. No matter what your dad says.¡±. *** In the days after they''d rescued the Crabtrees, it seemed Ian''s gloom and doom predictions were failing to come to pass. On the fifth day post-apocalypse, motor vehicles were spotted, filled with armed volunteers, men and women, hunting and killing every alien they could find. A small, blood-red biplane, with black iron crosses on its wings and body, started clearing the sky of the pterodactyl-like flying things; only to be driven off in turn by two larger, more modern planes covered with American flags. These planes dropped flyers. ¡°HANG IN THERE FELLOW HUMANS HELP IS ON THE WAY!¡± ¡°So where are they getting trucks and planes that run?¡± Dad wondered as he and his family watched it all from the front porch. They felt safe enough to do this for the first time since the apocalypse. Ian felt like cheering. ¡°Where do you think?¡± Uncle Ben said. ¡°The Galactic Market. Super-Awesome, Bad-Ass, Solar-Powered, All-Terrain Vehicle, 80,000 credits.¡± Gabe laughed. ¡°BG loaned someone 80,000 credits for a truck? Stacy still hasn''t paid off her 250 credit pistols. How many aliens would you have to kill to pay off a truck?¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°If we''re lucky, all of them,¡± Ellen said. ¡°That evil monster BG is up to something, though. The question is what?¡± The next day, they got bad news from volunteer alien hunters. Three volunteers dropped by the Anderson house for some water. Someone had seen Sabrina''s parents leave their home soon after the apocalypse. Nobody had seen them since. Sabrina said nothing, but she looked closed off and miserable. Her grandmother Ellen held her for a long time. It was odd how quickly Ian was getting used to this new world. Avoid ground aliens, keep an eye out for flying aliens, and if something big shows up, run like hell. Ian would give his eyeteeth for a cell phone, though. That night Stacy got her first official quest from BG. ¡°You, Kid Barbie, are the chosen one.¡± Stacy read to them over breakfast the next morning. ¡°Chosen for the sacred quest of cleansing the beautiful MonsterMart of alien filth, and making it safe once again for humanity! To encourage this, I''ve created a super-ultra-Friday-madness sale! All aliens killed as part of this quest will provide triple the rewards and extra bonuses for the one killing them! Yay!¡± It''s Friday, isn''t it? Ian thought. Easy to lose track of time during an alien apocalypse. ¡°Couldn''t we let them have the MonsterMart?¡± Ben asked. Before Stacy could respond, there was pounding on the door. ¡°It''s the Dorkhead Twin''s house! How are the Dorkhead Twins? Hey! Are you guys okay?¡± ¡°Shit,¡± Ian said. He looked at Gabe. Dad opened the door. Chris Tyler burst in like an excited Labrador retriever puppy. He was a large fifteen-year-old muscular jock, two years older than the twins, and one grade ahead of them. ¡°Hey Dorkheads! It''s good to see you''re alive!¡± ¡°I was hoping he''d get eaten,¡± Gabe said quietly. ¡°Ian!¡± Chris said. ¡°You remember our baseball coach, Mr. Benson? He still talks about you. ''I''ve been coaching over fifty years, and that Ian Anderson is the worst player ever to try out for the little league baseball team!'' But I told those other kids, you be nice, Ian can''t help it, he probably has cerebral palsy or something.¡± Kill me now, Ian thought. Alien apocalypse seemed to do well by Chris Tyler, he looked even more buff and muscular than usual. ¡°BG really loves me, Mr. A,¡± Chris told their father. ¡°I told BG, you turn me into an alien killing machine! And BG kept saying, ''I wish every human was like you!'' So I''m Chris the Killing Machine Tyler. I got a truck with an awesome sound system, I got an entire arsenal in my inventory, I''m ready for anything! And I got a working cellphone. Check it out, I can text, I got instant messaging, game apps. Oh, here let me get a selfie.¡± He ran up to Gabe and Ian. His phone let out a loud click as he took a photo of himself standing next to the twins. Then he typed something on the screen keyboard. Ian heard laughter from the street. ¡°I looked up your cellphone on the galactic market,¡± Dad said. ¡°Costs a thousand credits, and it''s got a half-mile range.¡± ¡°Yeah, like I said, this cellphone is great!¡± Chris said. ¡°We''re actually here for The Chosen One. Kid Barbie.¡± Ian went to the front door and looked out at a big red pickup truck pulling a trailer. Both truck and trailer were filled with people carrying weapons. ¡°Oh yeah. You''re going to hear it from other people too,¡± Chris said. ¡°But anyone in the city who isn''t a total pussy (no offense, dorkheads) was chosen by BG to clean up MonsterMart. Should be an easy mission. With a bunch of extra credits, and bonuses when we''re done. Like when we took out the tumtum that was raising hell in the business district. Also, the mayor is hosting a wake-memorial service this evening in the MonsterMart parking lot, to mourn our dead.¡± There were at least fifty well-armed people hanging around the pickup truck and trailer. They had guns of every kind, swords, and even something that looked like a flamethrower. All of them waited for Chris to finish so they could go. An older guy in an army uniform looked like he was their leader. He smiled at Ian and gave him a half salute. Ian saw a few people he''d seen around school but hadn''t met, jocks, and popular kids mostly. They all seemed to have cell phones. ¡°Andrew!¡± Ian shouted. His large, overweight video-gamer friend from high school had lost at least thirty pounds and looked different without his glasses. He wore a dark suit of armor. The armor looked heavy and solid but didn''t slow him down when he jumped out of the trailer and walked through Ian''s front yard. A sand-worm (squirmy) shot out of the ground and tried to bite Andrew. He grabbed it below the head, pulled it out of the ground, and tossed it onto Ian''s porch. ¡°Here you go, Ian, I get nothing from killing level 2 aliens,¡± Andrew said. ¡°And you look like you could use all the help you can get.¡± He jumped onto the porch and put his foot right below the thing''s head. He held it there while Ian lashed out at the squirmy with his baseball bat. Ian was getting better. The morning training sessions in the smelly garage hitting crunchies were paying off. It took five solid hits, and three misses before the squirmy vanished. Five more credits showed up on his internal display. Ignoring the laughter from people in the vehicles, he sat down on the porch bench, putting his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. That squirmy''s movements had been limited by the cement porch, but it had still come close to biting Ian''s kneecap off before Andrew had intervened. ¡°You went with a psychic build, didn''t you?¡± Andrew said, adjusting his sword and long-barreled pistol so he could sit down next to Ian on the bench. Ian nodded. ¡°I thought I was dreaming.¡± Andrew laughed. ¡°Sorry, but you are such a nube. I considered a special build, but for the first year, they''re worthless. If you go as a warrior, you kill aliens immediately. You need to kill aliens to get credits and stat points or you''re SOL. You can always get into a special build later. I spent a lot of time talking to Beginner''s Guide. I couldn''t think of an existing character that matched my needs. So I made one up.¡± Andrew grinned and started laughing. ¡°I''m a Paladin of New Terra. A warrior order from the future. It''s my life''s mission to protect humans from alien scum infesting our planet. If I''m fighting aliens, I get combat bonuses, if I''m protecting humans from aliens, I get huge combat bonuses. This alien apocalypse is the best thing to happen to me. I got laid last night, me. Can you believe it?¡± ¡°I fucking hate you so much,¡± Ian said. ¡°Is there any way for me to redo my character?¡± Andrew laughed again. ¡°I don''t think so, sorry. I know too many people who''ve tried.¡± A big shaggy dog, of a breed that could only be mutt, wandered over. Aliens mostly left animals alone. The dog walked across the yard without incident. ¡°Hey boy,¡± Ian said, petting it. The dog panted and wagged its tail. It was nice to meet something that didn''t feel sorry for him. ¡°That''s our mascot, Fergi. We have to tie her to the truck, or she''ll try to lick aliens to death while we''re killing them. You''re the most worthless dog in the universe, yes you are,¡± Andrew said to the dog, patting her head. The dog let out a loud woof! And wagged her tail. ¡°I hope whatever is infesting the MonsterMart is a challenge. I''ve gotten so good, the aliens around here are a waste of my time.¡± ¡°You look hungry, Fergi, I''ll get you something,¡± Ian said. He went back inside the house to get some food. The morning events had cost him his appetite. ¡°Stacy should really come with us, Mr. A,¡± Chris was saying to Ian''s dad. ¡°She''s the reason we came by, after all. We get a special BG bonus if we get all the chosen ones on our list. We''d look after her, I promise. My little brother Kyle could use someone to hang with.¡± ¡°Come on, Dad, I want to go,¡± Stacy said. ¡°Absolutely not, Stacy,¡± said Dad. ¡°I think it''s time for you to go, Chris. Have fun cleaning out MonsterMart.¡± ¡°Okay. Your loss. You''ll know the party''s starting when you hear and see fireworks,¡± Chris said. ¡°It''ll be like Independence Day, only better.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± said Dad. Ian grabbed some Spam for Fergi. He was sick of Spam. He jumped when he heard a voice next to him. ¡°If you use your mind control to destroy Chris, I would support you completely,¡± Gabe said. Chris Tyler was one of the few things Ian and Gabe agreed on. ¡°Would if I could,¡± said Ian. ¡°Likewise if you put a wizard hex on him.¡± ¡°Ditto,¡± Gabe responded. Ian went outside again and fed spam to Fergi until Andrew grabbed the dog and rejoined the others in the trailer. Andrew was with an older girl, who wore a black jacket, despite the warm weather. They passed something back and forth between them. They''d put it to their noses, inhale, then pass it back. ¡°Bye, Dorkheads! See you at the party!¡± Chris shouted as he left. ¡°Let''s kill some aliens!¡± There was a loud cheer from the volunteers. Nothing''s changed, Ian thought. The popular kids were still running things. While people like him got all the shit. ¡°Chris and his siblings are okay,¡± Dad said, ¡°but their mother has to be the most loathsome person on the planet. Six months after she got a job with a health insurance company, she divorced her husband and married the company''s CEO. Mr. Wilcox, a man twenty years older than she is and richer than God.¡± ¡°She''s not exactly working her way to the top,¡± Ellen said. ¡°But she''s doing something.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Dad said. *** After Stacy''s argument with Dad, they waited... and waited... They were all expecting something. But instead of shooting and fireworks, things were quiet. At sunset, Robert came by with a shopping cart full of groceries. He spoke quietly to Dad and the other adults, then left. Stacy tried to find out what was going on from Ellen, but Ellen shook her head, and wouldn''t tell her anything. *** That night Ian heard a whimpering and scratching sound at the door. He knew it was Fergi, so he opened the door and let her in. ¡°Hello, Fergi. Where are your stupid owners?¡± Ian asked. The dog slunk around looking frightened, sniffing everything in sight. Fluffy yowled and hissed when he saw the dog. Fergi just wagged her tail until Fluffy ran off. The dog dragged a ten-foot rope with a knot and loop on the end. When Dad saw it, he looked sick, then turned around and left. ¡°So not only do they ditch us for the party,¡± Gabe said, ¡°but they dump their dog on us too?¡± ¡°The dog''s rope is still knotted,¡± Ian said. ¡°Like Chris''s pickup truck vanished. If BG took his truck because he forgot to make payments, I''ll die laughing. ¡° ¡°You know how BG plays favorites,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Hard to believe BG would take his truck like that.¡± ¡°Yeah, but what else could have happened?¡± Ian asked. It seemed unlikely BG would take Chris''s truck, unless Chris had been killed. He remembered his friend, Andrew, talking about how he hoped cleaning out the MonsterMart wouldn''t be boring. They''d brought a small army, for god''s sake. What could have happened? If Chris is dead, Ian thought, what happened to the others? He shivered. ¡°See you at the party, Chris,¡± Ian said, quietly. Chapter 7 - Aftermath Chapter 7 Aftermath Eight Days Post Apocalypse Stat Sheet Name: Chris, The Killing Machine, Tyler Sex: Male Age: 16 Physical Attributes: 11.8 With 10 being an Olympic athlete, and 1 being an invalid in a wheelchair, you a bad-ass superhuman 11.8 Mental Attributes: 6.3 With 10 being a super-genius, and 1 being severely retarded, you are a completely respectable 6.3 Status among peers: Heroic! Awesome! Except for a few antisocial losers like the Anderson twins. You are seen as a young human who''s good at anything he sets his mind to, and a credit to all humans. In addition, you are one of the elite humans chosen to clean out MonsterMart. Claims to fame: Too many to mention! Performs more heroic acts before breakfast than most humans do their entire lives! Words cannot express the honor it is to fill out this stat sheet. Special abilities: Super Ultra Badassery. You excel at all forms of physical activity and weaponry. Note. There is a problem, one so small I hesitate to mention it. You are dead. Please keep in mind death is a perfectly normal human activity and is nothing to be ashamed of. Humans die all the time. I know you are off doing many heroic things in that afterlife you humans believe in. I would like to point out that I specifically stated that getting eaten by aliens is a bad idea. You should have listened. ¡ªChris Tyler''s stat sheet, last update. *** ¡°I already told you, Mrs. Wilcox. Instead of killing alien monsters like they were supposed to, your husband, ex-husband, and children let themselves get eaten. Getting eaten by aliens is not an effective alien deterrent strategy. As Beginner''s Guide I should not have to tell you this... I''m sorry, Mrs. Wilcox, I am physically incapable of doing what you suggested. I can neither kill myself nor turn myself off. Also, no part of me was constructed with carbon-based life-form bodily waste products.¡± *** Seventh Night Post Apocalypse ¡°Carl. Little brother. What are you doing?¡± Carl let out a long sigh. ¡°Is this the end, Ben? Not for us... For humans?¡± ¡°I think you have our roles reversed, Carl. I should be the one sitting there with the bottle of alcohol, going, ''Oh it''s the end'', and you should be the one going ''quit being a loser, Ben. We''ll think of something.''¡± ¡°I''m tired, Ben. Thousands of people went into that MonsterMart today. Not one came out. According to Robert, all the vehicles and weapons they got from BG vanished from the parking lot. Which means, barring a miracle, they''re all dead.¡± ¡°I say the moral is stay out of MonsterMart. Place sucked before the aliens took over. Guess it''s even worse now,¡± Ben responded. ¡°Those were our toughest fighters, Ben. They were clearing out the aliens,¡± Carl said. ¡°What are we going to do now?¡± ¡°I put the kids to bed, gave them the night off watch duty. You guys better not be starting without me.¡± It was Ellen. ¡°It''s my brother Carl, the wild man,¡± Ben said. ¡°He loves to party and hates to wait. He got us a bottle of ''Perfectly Adequate Cheap Human Booze,'' from The Galactic Market, Carl?¡± ¡°It has just as much alcohol as the more expensive varieties. I checked.¡± Carl responded. ¡°I got an old bottle of Jim Beam,¡± Ellen said. ¡°I was saving it, but if the world''s going to end. Robert said he''d join us, and maybe some other people from down the block. So let''s party like we''re about to get eaten by aliens.¡± *** Frightened, lonely, humans? huge building, strange smells, many people frightening, strange smells, master? Entering building, strange smells... Ian woke up early from a good night''s sleep involving dog dreams, which made sense, considering. Fergi padded after him, following him, like, well, a dog. Gabe was still sleeping, but the girls were up. He grabbed his aluminum baseball bat from next to his bed and went looking for them. ¡°Beat it, Ian, and take the dog with you. We''re worm hunting,¡± Stacy said. Stacy and Sabrina were in the backyard, intent on something. The grass was getting longer. Under normal circumstances, Dad would be after him to mow the lawn. The red biplane with iron crosses on its wings and body was up in the air, once again clearing the sky of flying things. Ian waved, but was pretty sure whoever was flying didn''t see him. Ian dug through the soil until he found a small earthworm. He went to Sabrina and put it on the back of her neck. Instead of squealing like he''d expected, she brushed it off and ignored him. ¡°You said you were worm hunting, I''m trying to help,¡± Ian said. Stacy stomped through the yard, then jumped up and down until she heard a rumbling. She backed away. An alien sandworm (squirmy) exploded from the ground. This is a squirmy. It chews with its mouth open, appeared on Ian''s display. Sabrina pulled a long wicked looking sword from nowhere and chopped the squirmy''s head off. It shot back into the ground. A second head shot out from behind Sabrina. She cut that one off too. ¡°Sabrina is that Chinese warrior princess with the sword,¡± Stacy announced proudly. ¡°Ing Wei,¡± Sabrina said. The first words Ian had heard her say since they''d rescued her. ¡°That''s what I said,¡± Stacy responded. Stacy started stomping around the yard again. ¡°Your dog''s smell kept me up,¡± said Gabe, walking up behind Ian. ¡°I couldn''t leave her in the garage,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''m not a dog person either, but that seemed cruel. She''s lonely.¡± Gabe snorted. ¡°Oh, I had a thought. I noticed Sabrina''s hair getting black roots, so I''m guessing she''ll look like the Asian princess she chose for her character.¡± ¡°She''ll look like a beautiful Asian warrior princess. I think she''ll manage,¡± Stacy responded. ¡°So what are you going to look like?¡± Gabe asked. Stacy stopped where she was.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. That was a good question. If Stacy''s brown hair became blond like Kid Barbie, or her eyes changed from hazel to blue, that would be fine. But what if her skin became plastic? Like a barbie doll? ¡°You guys know there''s an alien plushie creeping up on you?¡± Stacy said. Ian raised his bat and looked around the yard for any sign of distortion created by their damn plushie camouflage. His pulse raced. He saw nothing. Gabe had something in his hand, but he didn''t appear to see anything either. ¡°That was payback, right? For the worm and stuff?¡± Ian asked. ¡°No, it''s creeping up on you, on your eight o''clock,¡± she said. Ian looked. Nothing. ¡°No, your other eight o''clock. Look where your dog is looking, stupid.¡± Several things happened quickly. Fergi let out an angry growl and a bark. The plushie had gotten a foot away from Ian without himself or Gabe seeing it. The plushie let out a high-pitched scream and attacked Ian. Fergi intercepted the alien, getting hold of the thing''s neck with her teeth. Ian watched the two fight, waiting for a chance to swing his bat without hitting the dog. There was a popping, cracking noise. It was over. Fergi had broken the plushie''s neck. The dead plushie vanished, leaving a confused dog sniffing the area. ¡°I just got 10 credits,¡± Ian said. ¡°BG says, ''You have mastered your first non-sentient Terran slave, and compelled her to fight your battle for you. A strategy that is beneficial to a human as lazy and worthless as yourself.''¡± Ian petted the dog. The galactic market had cheap dog biscuits 10 for a credit. He bought 10 and tossed one to Fergi. ¡°I thought you were worthless,¡± he told her. Ian supposed a plushie skin would show up in Dad''s inventory now. It seemed monster loot went to whatever part of the group would make the best use of it. ¡°Woof¡± was her response. Her tail wagged as the biscuit crunched in her mouth. ¡°Wait. You got 10 credits for enslaving a dog?¡± Gabe said. ¡°That is not fair! That is the dumbest thing I ever heard of!¡± He stormed off. Ian started laughing. He couldn''t disagree with his brother. That''s what made it funny. ¡°My brothers are so worthless. If it wasn''t for me, they''d be alien food,¡± Stacy said to Sabrina. She went back to stomping around the yard. ¡°Let''s see how you do against alien cockroach crunchies, Fergi. Then maybe we can do some of our own worm hunting,¡± Ian said. Crunchies were easy to find. All Ian had to do was open the garage door a crack, and they came right in. One unfolded its large wings with a loud clacking noise and flew at Ian''s face. Fergi leaped up, grabbing it by its wing in mid-air. She took it down and tore it apart. She took to tearing crunchies apart with impressive speed and enthusiasm. Ian even got paid extra for having his ¡°slave animal¡± do his alien killing for him. He''d made another 20 credits before someone banged angrily on the front door. ¡°Carl Anderson, this is Mrs. Wilcox. I would like to speak to you right now!¡± Ian heard bumping, the front door opening, Ben said something. ¡°I know Carl Anderson has not been eaten by a plushie. I would like to speak to him, and I am not leaving until I do,¡± the woman said. Ian shut the garage door and left with Fergi, walking down the hall to the front of the house. The first thing he noticed was a beautiful, dark-haired, middle-aged woman in the doorway. She dressed in a professional-looking black skirt that showed off her assets to good effect. She stood at the door, accompanied by a couple of older men. Her face was tense and heavily made up, like she''d been crying. She looked and felt miserable and scary. Ian''s dog growled softly. Uncle Ben and Ellen passed a bottle of aspirin back and forth while they waited for Dad to show up. Dad staggered over, looking like he''d just woken up. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Mr. Anderson, I would like to speak to you. May I come in?¡± ¡°Absolutely not,¡± Dad said. ¡°I realize we have our disagreements, but I was hoping considering recent events we could put those differences aside,¡± she said. ¡°Please leave,¡± Dad said. ¡°Not until you hear me out,¡± she responded. Dad glared at her for a long minute. She looked back, not even blinking. Ian looked past the three adults and saw a boy on a motorcycle that had a small trailer hitched behind it. The boy wore a helmet that looked like it had been made from a mutant cat skull. On an adult, it might have looked scary. On the young boy, it was cute. The boy''s display claimed he was Apocalyptic Road Warrior. Dad sighed. ¡°Kids out. Adults are having a private meeting. Stacy, I told you not to play in the yard. It''s not safe.¡± ¡°Well, the yard''s safer now. Thanks to us,¡± Stacy responded. ¡°Room. Now. We talk later,¡± Dad said. Dad herded the four kids and dog down the hall to Stacy''s room, and shut the door behind them. ¡°How much money did you make?¡± Stacy asked. Sabrina didn''t answer. She wrote something in the air with her finger. ¡°Yay! I made 40 credits,¡± Stacy said. ¡°Shhh,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''m trying to listen.¡± He sat next to the door. The dog joined him. ¡°Boy''s fine,¡± Mrs. Wilcox was saying. ¡°Road Warrior''s still recovering from a plushie bite. His character build gives him resistance to poison and radiation. Do you have any cherry coke? It seems to be what he lives on. I''m not sure if that''s part of his character build, or not.¡± ¡°I''ll check the pantry,¡± Dad said. ¡°Last night reminds me of why I don''t drink. My head''s killing me.¡± Ian heard a door open, cans moved around. ¡°You had two drinks, then you passed out,¡± said Uncle Ben. ¡°I did not pass out, I fell asleep. It was a long day. Tell Road Warrior to come in. It''s getting hot outside,¡± Dad said. A minute later, Road Warrior entered Stacy''s room. He walked with a bad limp, favoring his swollen right leg. Besides his mutant cat skull helmet, he wore pants, a jacket, and boots made from the leathery skin of an unknown animal. Possibly the same thing that provided his cat skull helmet. The alternating brown-gray colors provided camouflage. A small shotgun was strapped across his back, and he held a can of cherry coke. As an adult, he might have looked tough or frightening, but as a nine or ten-year-old kid, he looked cute. Like someone they might take trick-or-treating on Halloween. ¡°I don''t talk to gay people,¡± Road Warrior said. He walked in and stood against the wall, away from the other kids, arms crossed across his chest, looking defensive. ¡°Well, I don''t speak to the intellectually challenged,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Who keeps calling us gay? We''re straight. I bet you can''t even spell straight.¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± Road Warrior said, ¡°and I can spell gay. G.A.Y.¡± He drank from his can of cherry coke, and let out a loud burp. ¡°If you girls want to check out my motorcycle, it''s an Apocalypse Ten Thousand.¡± Stacy shook her head and turned away. ¡°Shhh!¡± Ian said. ¡°I''m trying to listen.¡± He did his best to tune the other kids out. ¡°This is Mrs. Wilcox,¡± Dad said. ¡°She supervised the health insurance department that denied my kid''s asthma medication, as a frivolous medical expense.¡± ¡°So she''s evil,¡± said Ben. ¡°And the company Carl worked for sold defective armor for our servicemen, but I wasn''t going to mention that,¡± Mrs. Wilcox responded. ¡°Your company did what?¡± Ellen said. ¡°I was a tiny cog in a big machine,¡± Dad said. ¡°Get to the point, Mrs. Wilcox. What do you want?¡± ¡°I''m forming a second task force, to find out what''s hiding in the MonsterMart, and kill it. I want you, Carl Anderson, to lead this force.¡± Dad burst out laughing. ¡°You''re smart,¡± she continued. ¡°You''re poorly armed and equipped, but you performed a successful rescue operation five days ago. Also, you recognized BG''s trap, when the rest of us didn''t.¡± ¡°It''s obviously a trap. What''s sad is we still don''t know what kind of trap,¡± Dad said. ¡°I thought we had an understanding with BG,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said like she was trying not to cry. ¡°That we were giving BG what she wanted. May billions of demons shit in whatever passes for her womb. I was working on some leaflets yesterday evening when our copy machine vanished. That''s when I found out my friend the Mayor, my husband, and three children were all dead.¡± ¡°I''m sorry about your family, but you''re asking me to risk my life doing something that tougher, better-equipped people have failed at,¡± Dad responded. ¡°You''re smart and resourceful. Also, I have it on good authority that if we don''t get rid of this thing, or things, it will reproduce, and you''ll be dealing with it anyway,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°On whose good authority?¡± Dad asked. ¡°BG''s,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°When I was in the blue room, I told BG I was a very important human. The queen of the future Martian space navy or some such thing. I think BG is gullible when it suits her interests. She talks to me sometimes and tells me more than she does other humans. I don''t think she''s lying when she said this thing is about to reproduce, and if it does, there will be nothing left of this city.¡± ¡°Did she tell you what the thing is? How we kill it?¡± Dad asked. ¡°Believe me, I tried. BG refused to say. She said that would be cheating,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°At this point, you know as much as I do.¡± Dad sighed. ¡°I''ll do it for a thousand credits.¡± ¡°Afraid I can''t do that, Carl. Every spare credit we got is paying for Road Warrior''s motorcycle. Which at this point is our only working motor vehicle. But what I do have is a lot of stuff I got from the aliens my kids killed. Stuff that I think a man like yourself would find useful. Let me show you.¡± ¡°Wait, so BG took all the galactic market crap back, but left all the loot from the dead aliens?¡± Ben asked. ¡°She doesn''t seem to want the alien loot back. The Galactic Market won''t buy or sell alien loot. I don''t know why,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°But it''s yours, if you take the job.¡± Ian stopped listening. The implication of what he''d heard sank in. They were all dead? *** ¡°I could give you anti-venom for your leg. But you keep calling me gay, so I won''t,¡° Gabe was saying. ¡°Well, you are gay. I heard it from a reliable source,¡± Road Warrior said. ¡°From that older brother you told us about, I''m guessing,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Who must be as dumb as you are. Do I even know your brother?¡± ¡°I''m not telling you,¡± Road Warrior said. He finished his cherry coke and threw the empty can at Gabe. It bounced off Gabe''s forehead and joined the books and DVDs on Stacy''s floor. ¡°Hey Road Warrior,¡± Ian said. ¡°How''s your family?¡± ¡°They''re fine,¡± Road Warrior answered. ¡°My family left me at home by myself yesterday to go to MonsterMart, said they''d be right back. I was sick cause of a plushie bite. They''re coming back any time now.¡± Road Warrior''s face twisted up, and he started crying. ¡°I miss my family. I''m scared.¡± He sat down in the corner and buried his head in his arms. ¡°Sorry,¡± Ian said, not knowing what else to say. Stacy walked over and put her arm around Road Warrior. ¡°I miss Mom. She lives in the next county. We don''t know what happened to her.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± said Road Warrior through his arms. ¡°You got a nice helmet,¡± Stacy said. ¡°My helmet won''t come off,¡± Road Warrior moaned. ¡°It sucks when I''m trying to sleep.¡± ¡°Just give him the anti-venom, Gabe,¡± Ian said. Poor kid. No way was Ian telling him that, barring a miracle, his family was dead. ¡°I suppose,¡± Gabe said. ¡°I get one of these for every twenty or thirty plushies family members kill.¡± He produced a tiny green syringe with an inch-long needle. He jabbed the syringe through Road Warrior''s pants into the boy''s hurt leg. ¡°Ow,¡± Road Warrior said, but he seemed better after that. ¡°I guess you''re okay for gay people. It must suck being gay but I suppose you can''t help it.¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± Ian, Gabe, and Stacy said at the same time. *** The meeting went on for another hour. Ian practiced with his sister''s air pistol. He was getting better. He hit the target most of the time now. How was it he was alive when so many more capable fighters were dead? Then, as fast as the meeting started, it was over. Road Warrior left with Mrs. Wilcox and the two men who''d come with her. ¡°Stacy,¡± Dad said, ¡°this may come as a surprise, but some of us are trying very hard to keep you alive. If you get killed doing something stupid, I will be upset. We all have a lot to do. After breakfast, I want you guys doing your chores. Ellen will introduce you all to the exciting world of washing clothes by hand.¡± The kids groaned. The rest of the day was filled with feverish activity and much swearing among adults. *** Late that evening, Dad pulled Ian aside. ¡°Ian, I''m working on a plan to deal with MonsterMart. You''re going to be a big part of it. Can I count on your help?¡± Ian nodded. ¡°Of course. Hey, I''m embarrassed to say this because it may be crap, but the dog might have seen something.¡± Ian told him about the dog''s dreams. ¡°The aliens don''t bother animals. If this dream has any truth to it, that thing is huge, bloated, and ready to pop.¡± ¡°We''ll find out tomorrow... Or we''ll be eaten,¡± Dad said. ¡°Get some rest. You''ll need it.¡± Chapter 8 - MonsterMart Meets The B Team Chapter 8 MonsterMart Meets The B Team Nine Days Post-Apocalypse World Population 600 Million Letter from the Federation Council Dear Carl Anderson, and Concerned Parties. We hasten to assure you that the recent events you have experienced are not a punishment, collective or otherwise. The Federation has no desire to anal probe you, steal your water, eat you, kidnap or rape your women, dissect your food animals, or do any of the many things humans think alien lifeforms exist to do. Indeed, we are certain humans are much better at punishing and hurting each other, than anything we could think up in the Federation Council. What you have received is part of a comprehensive Federation aid program. The monsters you have encountered are ecologically friendly beings, sent to your world to provide short-term solutions to the many problems plaguing humankind. Problems, we would like to point out, that are entirely self-inflicted: Overpopulation, pollution, global warming, famine, war, disease, exhaustion of resources to name a few. These monsters purify water, convert carbon dioxide to carbon and oxygen, and work to clean your environment. When you kill them, they often become trees or edible plant life. We hope that you will channel your violent and genocidal impulses towards these alien monsters, instead of each other. However, we are concerned that your population is decreasing faster than anticipated, and we will continue to look into this. Your Friends Federation Council *** ¡°I told BG, you fix my stage 4 lung cancer, you can do whatever you want with my damn skill-points,¡± an old man wearing a makeshift tinfoil hat and smoking a cigarette said to the equally old man next to him. They were setting up a large sniping rifle on a tripod. ¡°Like I said, I was here last Friday, thinking of shopping at MonsterMart, when I saw a huge crowd of people in the MonsterMart parking lot. They all looked really happy, having a good time. I was all set to join them, then I noticed a lot of people going into MonsterMart, but nobody coming out. -So I said to myself, ''Robert, if they ain''t coming out, you better not be going in''. I did my shopping at the little store a few blocks away. It wasn''t safe either, but at least it wasn''t no roach motel.¡± Robert said, telling everyone in the second alien task force, once again, why he didn''t shop at MonsterMart. Ian tuned them out. He studied the giant parking lot in front of him and the MonsterMart in the distance. Aside from a few scattered cars and a bunch of trailers near the store''s entrance, the parking lot was empty. The second alien killing task force met on the empty street in front of the MonsterMart parking lot, at least 1000 feet from the MonsterMart itself. He pulled up his stat sheet. Name Lord Ian Mind Master Sex Male Age 13 Physical Attributes 3.3 With 10 being an Olympic athlete, and 1 being an invalid in a wheelchair, you are 3.3. Mental Attributes 7.8 With 10 being a super-genius, and 1 being severely retarded, you are 7.8 Status among peers Low If your peers hadn''t been eaten, they would still consider you a nerd and spasticle. Spasticle, is a human slang word that means an uncoordinated clumsy person. Claims to fame. If Coach Benson hadn''t been eaten, he would still consider you the worst player to try out for his little league baseball team, in the fifty years he coached baseball. Special abilities Psychic. New, level 0. You are a New, level 0 psychic, only because I''m not allowed to assign negative numbers to your special ability levels. The one stat point you put into your gifts has done nothing to change this. Note. While I can''t tell you how to win this game, I would remind you that one of the game''s objectives is to not get eaten. In your case, I suspect this reminder is a waste of time. A cold chill went through Ian. They were dead. Everyone who entered MonsterMart was dead. ¡°This is the nearest place any human we know has been to MonsterMart and lived to tell about it,¡± Dad said to the second alien killing task force. ¡°So this is where we set up our base of operations and plan our attack. Let me make this clear. No one is allowed to cross the line between us and the parking lot without permission from me. You do, you''re no longer part of this group. I will take you home myself if I have to. Is that understood?¡± Ian nodded and looked around at the sad group of kids and old people making up the second task force. Fergi was at home. Dad had shut her in the garage despite Ian''s protests. ¡°Too much going on without a dog running around,¡± Dad had said. Aside from his Dad, Uncle Ben, Ellen, and Robert, there were four old men who had to be gun collectors or retired military. They''d brought an impressive arsenal of rifles and machine guns. Two of the four wore makeshift tinfoil hats that were blinding to look at in the morning sun. Stacy and Sabrina were on patrol duty, with orders to stay near the base... or else. Road Warrior hung around nearby. He still seemed to think Gabe and Ian were gay, but after yesterday he was nicer about it, waving at the two boys halfheartedly when he saw them. He used his small motorcycle to run errands for the group. The red biplane with iron crosses on its wings and body could be seen flying in the distance. Ian didn''t know if the plane was part of their task force, or just happened to be out that morning. ¡°Ian, man of the hour. You getting anything from the MonsterMart?¡± Dad asked. ¡°Not a thing Dad. Sorry,¡± Ian answered. ¡°What I expected. Turn around.¡± Dad put a modified rock-climbing harness over Ian''s shoulders and between his legs. He then pulled it painfully tight. ¡°I hope there''s a reason for this,¡± Ian said.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°There is. Give me any knives you have, any tools from your inventory, and all of your credits. You''ll get them back when this is over,¡± Dad said. ¡°You''re serious?¡± Ian asked. ¡°Yes. I need to make sure you can''t buy something from the galactic market to free yourself with.¡± Dad attached the harness to twenty feet of heavy rope. He attached that heavy rope in turn to a large spool of something labeled ¡°parachute cord¡±. Ian didn''t have any knives or tools, but he produced his life savings of one hundred and fifty-four credits. The credits came out of his inventory in the form of glowing coins that floated in the air, seeming to defy the laws of physics. ¡°Could you free yourself quickly?¡± Dad asked. ¡°If your life depended on it?¡± Ian studied the harness. ¡°It might take me a few minutes.¡± ¡°Good,¡± Dad said. ¡°We know this alien, or aliens somehow force people to enter the MonsterMart, but we don''t know how. We need to be able to pull you back if it affects you. This alien may produce a pheromone or hallucinogenic substance. If so, this gas mask should keep you safe. I want you to walk fifty feet, over to that first row of parking spaces, then turn around and come back. If you act crazy or deviate from this path in any way, we will use the rope to pull you back. Understood?¡± Ian nodded. The gas mask felt suffocating. He walked forward, dragging the rope behind him, feeling like a total idiot. He stopped walking when he ran out of rope. Still not feeling anything, he turned around and walked back again. Ian pulled off the old gas mask. ¡°Nothing.¡± ¡°I''m giving you one hundred feet of rope this time, that''s about two more parking spaces in. Go there, stop for a minute, if you sense anything come back.¡± Ian walked back into the parking lot, moving forward until he ran out of rope. He stopped and looked around. For some reason, he felt good, like everything would be okay... Oh Shit, he thought. Ian came back to the base and tore off the gas mask. ¡°It''s mind control,¡± Ian told them. ¡°Subtle as hell. You feel fantastic, then you really want to enter MonsterMart. Also, I think the alien''s trapped inside. It''s too big to leave, especially after all the people it''s eaten.¡± ¡°Good to know. Can you fight the mind control?¡± Dad asked. ¡°I don''t know,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''d like to go back to where I was. See if I can learn more about how it works and how to fight it. If I start acting crazy pull me back.¡± ¡°We''ll give you an hour. I have plenty to do back here. If you''re not sure you can handle this, come straight back.¡± Dad said. Ian walked back into the parking lot, to the same place as before and sat down. How did you fight something like this? It wasn''t like he''d done it before. At least he understood what was happening now. That helped. He tried to put up a mental barrier between his mind and the monster''s. He''d think he was getting the hang of it, then he''d really want to go into the MonsterMart. Okay. Deep breath, he thought. Let''s think this through. First, he needed to identify and separate his thoughts from the alien''s. Because of his gifts, he should be able to do this. Any thoughts of going into the death trap known as MonsterMart were foreign. So starting there, he taught himself to identify alien thoughts and keep them separate from his own. Separating his thoughts from the aliens was a difficult, time-consuming, tedious task, but when done, he could tell which thoughts were his, and which belonged to the alien. Second, he needed to create a shield to shut out alien thoughts. This didn''t take as long, but it was a lot harder. Blocking alien thoughts stressed his gift and made his head ache. It worked, though. Thoughts of how great it would be to go into MonsterMart receded. His display popped up. You have created your first mind shield. An action akin to the human Road Warrior mastering calculus. Impressive, and very hard to believe. You have received extra skill points! ¡°Hey, Ian! You okay back there?¡± Uncle Ben shouted. Someone pulled on his rope. He stood up and waved, feeling exhausted. His nose was running. He put his hand up to his nose and saw blood. Tilting his head back and squeezing his nose, he walked back to the monster hunters'' base. ¡°You okay? You''ve been sitting there for over two hours,¡± Uncle Ben said. He handed Ian a handkerchief. ¡°I''m fine,¡± Ian answered. ¡°I thought you were going to call me back in an hour?¡± ¡°You seemed fine, and we had plenty to do back here,¡± Uncle Ben answered. A lot happened since he''d been gone. Gabe was talking to Dad about an alien care package he was putting together for their MonsterMart alien. Now all four old men, plus Robert and Uncle Ben were wearing tinfoil hats that reflected the sun. Dad had been busy. A twenty-foot-long gray curved object, probably a tumtum bone Mrs. Wilcox had given Dad the day before, had been fastened to a framework of what appeared to be several more large tumtum bones to create a makeshift catapult. A pulley hand crank mechanism was being used to stress the long tumtum bone, bending it way back. The bucket, fastened to the end of the catapult, held two large cement blocks. The old men stood around telling off-color jokes about Dad''s tumtum boner. ¡°Everybody stand back!¡± Dad shouted. As soon as they were out of the way, he pulled on a rope. With a whoosh and a loud bang, the bone snapped forward. The two cement blocks flew up and over the MonsterMart entrance, landing on the roof of the giant store. ¡°Not bad!¡± Dad shouted. ¡°The tumtum bone catapult works better than I thought. A few adjustments and we''re good to go.¡± ¡°We need to get that trailer out of the way. That sixteen-foot utility trailer is blocking the entrance,¡± one of the old men told Ian''s dad. The two men started talking quietly. ¡°It''s the quickest way,¡± the old man said. ¡°If Lady Wilcox can be believed, we don''t have much time.¡± ¡°Absolutely not. It''s too dangerous.¡± Dad said. ¡°If anything goes wrong we pull him back, and we''ll be covering him the entire time.¡± the older man argued. ¡°I''ll do it,¡± Ian said, overhearing the men. ¡°I have a mind shield now. Tell me what the plan is.¡± ¡°No,¡± Dad said. The two men moved away, still arguing. *** ¡°If you''re sure you want to do this, push the shopping cart over to that large utility trailer blocking the entrance. Move the trailer to the side, get it out of the way. You see where the parking lot slopes downhill? First, make sure nothing''s blocking the trailer''s wheels, then use the slope to push the trailer away from the entrance. The trailer''s empty so you can do this,¡± Dad said. ¡°Next, push this cart forward and roll it as far into the MonsterMart entrance as you can. For god''s sake don''t try to go through the entrance yourself. If you act crazy, we''ll pull you back. If you feel you can''t do this at any time, turn around and come back. Too many people have died here already.¡± ¡°What''s in the cart?¡± ¡°Don''t worry about that. Just get the cart inside the entrance,¡± Dad responded. Ian nodded. A blanket covered the shopping cart, and it was heavier than he would have liked. Trying not to think about what was in the cart, he muscled it onto the parking lot and rolled it forward. He wasn''t half as sure about this as he''d tried to appear. Ian raised his mind shield, trying to imagine his mind inside a heavy vault. He forced himself to concentrate on the cart, nothing but the cart. Soon he''d pushed the cart past the hundred-foot mark where he''d been sitting. Forward, forward, growing more exhausted with every step. If he turned around now, he''d be letting people down, but he could feel the alien pushing against his mind. It wanted him to let go of the cart and go inside, everything would be okay. It promised. It felt like the time that baseball coach had made him do twenty push-ups after he''d ran ten laps around the park. That kind of strain, only mental. His nose was bleeding again. He tried to pick up the pace. The sooner he was done, the sooner he could get away. The cart stopped with a jolt. It had run into the trailer. He pulled the cart back, then grabbed the Trailer Hitch. It was hard to get the thing moving, but once he did, moving it became easier. An eternity of pushing later, the MonsterMart entrance was no longer blocked. His head felt like a spike was going through it. Ian grabbed the cart and pushed it towards the entrance. Flags and debris from the first expedition covered the ground. He pushed the cart over them, too tired to do anything else. The MonsterMart was dark, but Ian could see a faint green glow from deeper inside. You don''t have to be afraid. Let go of the cart, come inside and relax, the alien kept saying. Ian shuddered. The only thing inside the MonsterMart was death. He reached the slight downward slope at the entrance and let go. The cart somehow rolled to the side, catching on the edge of the door. He groaned. Staggering forward, he pulled the cart back and pushed again. The cart was inside the entrance now. As good as it was going to get. He began staggering back to base camp, taking ten steps before something grabbed his leg from behind, and pulled. He screamed, skinning his hands on the pavement, trying to get away. The men at the base camp pulled on his rope and he became the subject of a tug-of-war. He heard shooting, at whatever had grabbed him, he hoped, he hugged the asphalt. A horrible scream came from the store''s entrance. Something exploded. The heat from the explosion behind him was hot enough to burn. Whatever grabbed him let go. Ian was pulled, crawling and stumbling back to the home base. *** ¡°I told you to wait for him to get clear before shooting that thing!¡± Dad shouted. ¡°And those tinfoil hats make you look like fucking idiots!¡± ¡°Hey! If these hats protect us from BG''s brainwaves we''re going to be the ones laughing. And would you rather he got eaten? We didn''t have a choice!¡± someone shouted back. ¡°Ian''s fine,¡± Uncle Ben said. ¡°Man, that thing is huge! Did we kill it?¡± Ian was so tired he couldn''t stand, and he needed a dry pair of pants. Five feet of the monster''s tentacle was still attached to his leg. He unwound it and tossed it aside in disgust. A giant bloated green octopus thing with way too many tentacles now blocked the entrance of the MonsterMart. It looked dead. ¡°Did we get it?¡± someone asked, as both alien and Ian''s tentacle vanished. ¡°You got one of the babies,¡± Ian answered, unsure of how he knew. ¡°And the mother is pissed.¡± A lower-pitched rumbling scream grew louder, and louder, making Ian''s teeth and bones rattle. The front walls of the MonsterMart exploded outward and the giant red MonsterMart sign came crashing down as the huge alien mother pushed her way out. She pulled her pale, glowing green, bloated body forward with her thousands of large tentacles. Crushing the giant red MonsterMart sign with her weight as she came for the second task force. Ian''s display popped up. This is a wuffle. She came to your planet to give birth to her many fat, ill-tempered, disagreeable children. Children who have no respect for those sacred religions, customs, and traditions you humans hold dear. Ian looked for the others to see what they were doing. They didn''t move. They looked like they were in shock and would soon snap out of it... but they didn''t. ¡°Dad! Wake up!¡± Ian shouted, shaking his father. Dad rocked back, but didn''t respond. The spike going through Ian''s head returned with renewed force. The catapult had been pulled back for a second test. If it could launch cement blocks to the roof of the store, would it launch a larger, heavier object a shorter distance? Like halfway across the parking lot? Ian crawled over to Gabe''s box with the words ¡°Alien Care Package¡± on it. It was large and heavy. Knowing Gabe, it held a nasty surprise for their alien. He grabbed it and dumped it into the catapult bucket. Then he added what looked like Molotov cocktails and a few other things that were probably bombs. Looking for a match or lighter, he realized the camp stove was still lit and the coffee pot was boiling over. He grabbed the coffee pot and threw it to the side. The metal pot and boiling coffee must have burnt his hand, but he didn''t feel a thing. He was having trouble getting his arms and hands to do what he wanted. He dropped the Molotov cocktails several times before he could light them from the stove and place them in the bucket. The spike going through his head kept getting worse. He could feel the alien mother getting closer. Praying he''d put enough in the catapult bucket, he found the rope his dad had pulled earlier to launch the catapult, and pulled it as hard as he could. He fell over. Desperate, he tried again, somehow finding the strength to stand. He pulled the rope harder this time, putting all his weight behind it. With a whoosh and bang, the catapult went off. The last thing Ian felt before he lost consciousness was sadness. They''d done the best they could. They were only human. Chapter 9 - Sick Day Chapter 9. Sick Day Thirteen Days Post Apocalypse The Car (Tentaclus shapechangerus) is about the size of a car. In the words of the guy who encountered it: ¡°I was shopping at this store, and I saw a red Cooper Mini in one aisle. It wasn''t like it crashed into the store, either. It was like someone had taken one apart and put it together in the store aisle. No other way it could have gotten there. I moved to the next aisle and kept shopping. Can you believe someone took all the tinfoil? Before anyone asks, I write IOU''s for everything I take. If the store owners show up, we''ll work out some kind of payment. The next time I saw the car, it had moved about twenty feet closer to me. So I thought to myself, this isn''t normal car behavior. The car''s display popped up. ¡°This is a car. It is not an alien shape-changer trying to kill you.¡± So I hit the ¡°car¡± as hard as I could with my cane. The car turned into this huge mass of tentacles and mouth. It shot green slime everywhere. I fought it off with my cane until it escaped through a broken window. Had to go to the thrift store after that, for new clothes... But that''s another story.¡± An alien that can take the form of a car can probably take the form of any large object. Be careful. ¡ªNotes from the Anderson Monster Manual¡ªA work in progress. *** ¡°Come on Ian, I thought nerds were smart,¡± Mr. Riley, his geography teacher, was saying. Ian heard the girls behind him giggling. The boy on his right, who was twice his size, fake sneezed ¡°Loser!¡± Ian''s face turned red. ¡°Uh sorry. What was the question?¡± he asked. The giggling got louder. Ian woke up, his head pounding. Thank god, just a nightmare, he thought. He groaned and sat up in his bed. What happened? He was in his room. An alien light floated near the ceiling. The light revealed dirty clothes on the floor. Dresser drawers were open. He should really clean up this place. ¡°Ian''s awake!¡± he heard Stacy shout from the doorway. ¡°Woof!¡± Fergi barked, jumped up onto the bed and licked his face. ¡°Down, girl.¡± He pushed her away, petting her. Gabe came in. ¡°I got 760 credits for my alien care package alone. I got a bunch of wizard stuff for my inventory, and there''s a bunch of stuff I want to buy from the galactic market. How much did you get?¡± Gabe was wearing some of Dad''s armor, Ian noticed. ¡°What happened?¡± Ian asked. ¡°All hell broke loose!¡± Stacy said, unable to contain her excitement. ¡°You launched that catapult. Some of it landed in front of the monster. The alien mother dragged herself over Gabe''s care package. Stuff exploded! Burned a huge hole in that thing. How could she scream like that without a mouth?¡± ¡°Wait, she didn''t have a mouth?¡± Ian said. ¡°No! She had thousands of spiky sucker things,¡± Stacy said. ¡°She sucked the blood and fluids from her victims. I guess she had a bunch of little mouths.¡± ¡°It was the super-concentrated acid I got from the cuddle that killed her,¡± Gabe said. ¡°And the poison, and the firebombs. But then a bunch of alien monster babies came out of the Superstore, and thousands of zombies.¡± ¡°Zombies? Come on guys, really, what happened?¡± ¡°Zombies!¡± said Stacy, jumping up and down with excitement. ¡°They were dried out husks of the people who went into the store! But they could still move, and they all came after us. I get huge bonuses with zombies, because I''m Kid Barbie, the zombie killer. It was like they moved in slow motion. I killed over half of them myself. Paid off my guns with plenty left over, I got a bunch of gun upgrades and stat points.¡± ¡°I threw a Molotov cocktail at Zombie Chris Tyler,¡± said Gabe. ¡°I missed Chris, and hit one of the monster babies, and six more zombies coming up behind it. I got another 300 credits that way, I got three stat points. And Stacy took out Zombie Chris. What did you get, Ian? You helped a little before you passed out with that nosebleed. You should have gotten something.¡± ¡°Ian, how are you feeling?¡± Dad entered the room, followed by Uncle Ben. ¡°Got a headache, but I''m okay,¡± Ian responded. Dad took out one of the alien lights and moved it close to Ian''s right eye, then his left, practically blinding him. ¡°Eyes are still dilating okay. Do you remember your name? What happened? What year this is?¡± Dad moved the light to the right then left, watching Ian''s eyes follow the light. ¡°God, Dad! Are you checking me for brain damage? I''m fine. I think that alien overwhelmed my gift, so my brain shut down for a while. I got a headache, but I''m fine.¡± ¡°You''ve been unconscious for three days. I was afraid you''d fallen into a coma,¡± Dad said. ¡°He''s fine. Walk it off. Everybody gets brain damage now and then,¡± Uncle Ben said. He was holding what looked like two glowing emerald green pears. ¡°Not helping, big brother,¡± Dad responded. ¡°Whatever you did back there, don''t do it again, Ian. I was afraid we''d lost you.¡± ¡°I didn''t want to let people down,¡± Ian replied. ¡°And what are those?¡± Ian pointed at the glowing pears. ¡°Monsterfruit,¡± Dad said. ¡°The day after we cleaned out MonsterMart, trees appeared in the parking lot. They grew through the asphalt and everything. That is the fruit from one of the trees. BG assures us this fruit is tasty, nutritious, and safe to eat.¡± ¡°I''d offer you one, but your dad would kill me. I''m trying to get up the nerve to try one myself,¡± Uncle Ben said. ¡°Fortunately, none of us is starving to death,¡± Gabe said. ¡±How much did you get from BG?¡± Ian checked. ¡°I''d rather not say. Go buy some wizard stuff.¡± ¡°Yeah, that''s what I thought,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Told you he didn''t get that much,¡± he said to Stacy. ¡°I''m glad you''re okay, Ian. Even though you''re my idiot, nonidentical twin brother.¡± Ian''s siblings left. ¡°You want to invite Melvin the Road Warrior over?¡± Ian heard Stacy say from the hallway... ¡°I know. He cries a lot for someone born and raised in a nuclear wasteland.¡± ¡°Road Warrior may still be mad about how you killed his zombie family,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Well, didn''t kill, they were dead already.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Gabe hasn''t whined since MonsterMart. Not once. I think it''s a record,¡± Uncle Ben said. He sniffed the Monsterfruit, then shook his head. ¡°Suppose eating these would give me a third arm or something?¡± ¡°I''m glad Gabe''s happy,¡± Dad replied. ¡°And thanks to you, Ian, our only other casualty was when Road Warrior shot himself in the foot by accident. He''s fine now, of course, thanks to regen shots. How much did you get, by the way?¡± Dad asked. ¡°BG says, way to get hit by a psychic attack, loser. You get 560 credits. Better luck next time,¡± Ian lied. ¡°Considering what I went through, that''s really disappointing.¡± ¡°As far as I''m concerned you''re a hero,¡± Dad said. ¡°Your actions saved lives. I guess BG doesn''t care about that. On a related note, if Mrs. Wilcox can be believed. Monsters can''t spawn inside a home, shelter, or fortress. A fortress needs to be a fortified, walled-off, protected area that defends the area surrounding it. If we can set that up, it should give us some breathing room.¡± ¡°Welcome to the dark ages,¡± Uncle Ben said. ¡°Oh, good news for the Crabtrees. Sabrina''s parents were found. They''d holed up in someone''s cellar when her dad got wounded. Her dad''s leg is growing back, gonna be fine.¡± Ian swung his legs over the bed and stood up. His head hurt and he felt weak. The room spun around. He sat down again. He realized he was very hungry. ¡°I''m starved,¡± he said. ¡°Anything to eat?¡± *** After eating, Ian went back to sleep. When he woke up. Mrs. Wilcox, the evil ex-insurance rep, was in his room. It would have been nice to assume she was an alien shape-changer, but his time unconscious had made him more sensitive. It was definitely her. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± Ian asked. He sat up slowly, still tired. ¡°And why is my dog in the garage?¡± ¡°I''m here because I wanted to talk to you in private, and your dog doesn''t like me,¡± she answered. ¡°They say dogs are a good judge of character,¡± Ian said. ¡°Let''s talk about that, Ian. The rest of your family like me. Even your dad is willing to overlook our past, but not you? Also, did you really get only 560 credits? That''s not what BG told me.¡± ¡°You didn''t come here out of concern for my well-being,¡± Ian said. ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°You are right, Ian. I do want something. But that doesn''t mean we can''t have a good working relationship. The high-powered regen booster shot your dad gave you after you passed out came from me.¡± ¡°Your point?¡± Ian said. Mrs. Wilcox took a deep breath. ¡°Ian, I''m going to treat you like an adult. In school, you''re taught to do your best, get good grades, do well on standardized tests. But out in the real world, you learn it''s your connections with other people that determine your success or failure.¡± Ian nodded. ¡°It''s not what you know, it''s who you know.¡± ¡°Exactly. Now, for me to succeed, I need people like your dad looking out for me and, in exchange, I''m willing to look out for him and his family. I would like to make you a similar proposition. But for me to have your back, Ian, I need to be sure you have mine.¡± ¡°Have your back to accomplish what?¡± Ian asked. ¡°To win this game and destroy BG,¡± she answered. ¡°For this to happen we must survive, and overcome certain obstacles, which you can help me with.¡± She reached out and put her hand on Ian''s. ¡°I have already spoken to Mr. Hill, the man who owns the place I want to turn into a fortress. It took some doing but...¡± Ian jerked his hand away from hers and backed away. ¡°Jesus Christ! You shot him! Three times in the head!¡± He could see the old man''s blood splattering the confederate flag that hung behind him in the background, and Robert standing off to one side, providing backup. Mrs. Wilcox''s lips pulled back to form a wolfish grin. ¡°You really are psychic. Very good. You wouldn''t have liked Mr. Hill. He was a nasty paranoid individual, and he treated his staff like shit, which made my job easier. As you can see, I''m willing to do what it takes to set up this fortress. I''m giving you the opportunity to join me on the ground floor of this venture.¡± ¡°You''re a ruthless bitch who would feed me and my family to the dogs if it suited your interests, and you want me to give you my loyalty?¡± Ian asked. She looked hurt. ¡°I suppose I would if I had to. I don''t want to. I like you, Ian. I need people like you and your family. I believe you need me.¡± Ian weighed his options. It seemed Mrs. Wilcox believed she was being truthful. ¡°You are the one who organized the cleanup of MonsterMart. It''s possible you are the best person to take charge of this mess.¡± ¡°I believe I am, Ian,¡± she said. ¡°So Mrs. Wilcox. Let''s say I use my gift to spy for you. To keep you informed of anyone working against you and what they''re planning. That is what you want, isn''t it? If I do this for you, what''s in it for me and my family?¡± Ian asked. She smiled, leaning over his bed, giving him an excellent view of her breasts. ¡°Let''s say I''ll owe you one, Ian. I always remember the people who help me.¡± Ian looked away, embarrassed. Then he forced himself to turn back and look her in the eye. ¡°As long as you look out for me and my family, I''ll look out for you,¡± he said. ¡°If you turn on us, I''ll know.¡± ¡°Ian, has anyone told you what a good-looking guy you are?¡± Mrs. Wilcox asked. ¡°Definitely not,¡± Ian said. ¡°Okay, my mom thinks I''m good-looking. I''m pretty sure she doesn''t count.¡± ¡°Well, I''m not your mom, am I?¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. She kissed his cheek. Then she turned to leave. ¡°See you soon, Ian.¡± ¡°Just congratulating our new hero on his recovery,¡± he heard Mrs. Wilcox call out to his family as she left the house. Ian lay back as the implications of everything she''d said sank in. *** Later that evening, Ian pulled up his display. He hated lying to his family, but people found his powers frightening. Considering how he would feel if someone knew his secret thoughts and fantasies, he supposed he couldn''t blame them. The more sensitive he became, the more apparent this was to him. He felt it best to downplay his powers. Or in short, lie. His display said. You helped defeat a level 5 alien monster! You pushed yourself so far beyond your meager abilities that you won 21,857 credits! You gained a year''s worth of psychic skill points in one day alone! You have a galactic following! I told the galactic following to go follow someone who isn''t lazy and worthless, but they refuse. They want me to bend rules for you. That would be cheating! And I will not do that. You also have 28 stat points! Yay! What the hell was a galactic following? Ian wondered. BG continued. Before you do something you regret with your stat points. A brief refresher. Skill points are experience. They improve an existing skill faster than it would improve otherwise. To gain them, you must use that skill. The skill-points you gained in your defeat of the wuffle go to your gift, and there is nothing we can do about that. Stat, or statistic points, alter you on a genetic level. They cannot substitute for experience, but they will determine the limits of your abilities, and how much experience will improve a certain skill. They can also give you talents and abilities you didn''t have previously. For example, you could use stat-points to increase your social intelligence, so females of your species won''t think you''re such a dork. You can also use stat points to improve your looks and increase the size of your muscles, again raising your social status with females of your kind. You now have enough stat points to do both of these things. To make these or any other changes, all you have to do is will the stat points to perform that action. If you could believe the girls, Chris Tyler had all the characteristics BG was suggesting for Ian, but it hadn''t saved the jock from being killed, eaten, and turned into a zombie. Ian''s gifts, on the other hand, were keeping him and his family alive. If you must put your stat points into your psychic gifts, BG continued, you will get your first skill tree. The first branch of the skill tree was Human/Alien. Ian focused on Human. You will specialize in the control, subjugation, and mental attacks on humans. Under Alien. You will specialize in the control, subjugation, and mental attacks on aliens. The human branch was tempting. It was why Ian had taken the psychic route in the first place. On the other hand, aliens kept trying to kill him and everyone he knew. The Alien branch was the obvious choice. After the Alien branch came Beast-Mastery/Psychic-attacks. Beast-Mastery Control Alien monsters and force them to kill for you. A good tactic for lazy humans. Psychic-Attacks. Confuse, disorient, and kill alien monsters with mental attacks. This was a harder choice. Since he did not know which, if either, he could use effectively, he maxed out the first branch Alien with twenty-one stat points. Then he divided his last seven stat points between Beast-Mastery, and Psychic-Attacks, putting the leftover point into Beast-Mastery, because of his success with his dog, Fergi. He fell asleep with thoughts of Mrs. Wilcox. She''d kissed him. He''d sensed from her mind exactly what she was willing to do to pay him back. This left him excited, and a bit frightened. *** ¡°Come on, we got this one.¡± someone shouted. He was a good Kitykity, and he was having fun. He limped away, like his hind foot hurt, but he was pretending. Ten humans chased him into the canyon, falling into his trap. Boring... Kitykity doubled back, fast and silent. These humans would not leave the small canyon alive. Something twitched at the edge of his awareness. Distraction. New? Interesting? Fun? Ian woke up, heart racing. His dog whimpered from the foot of his bed, responding to Ian''s fear. The worst thing about this nightmare was, when he sensed the Kitykity, he could swear it sensed him. He sighed. At least the girls weren''t picking on him. Chapter 10 - First Dragon Chapter 10 Six Months Post Apocalypse Human Population 90,000,000 First Dragon Night of the Apocalypse Psychiatric Facility ¡°Uh, you know I''m on suicide watch, right?¡± Sam said. ¡°So I don''t give a shit about your stupid alien monsters that want to eat me. Besides, I''m on so many drugs I''m sure I''d give them all heartburn.¡± ¡°Fascinating. You would rather allow aliens to eat you than fight for Terran honor and protect your home-world from invading alien filth?¡± BG asked. ¡°Exactly. If I fought these aliens, I''d only mess up. Like when I threw up Mom''s sleeping pills last night. I can''t do anything right. But if these aliens eat my fat ass, they''ll get sick. Some other humans will kill them easily. Teamwork.¡± Sam pumped his fist in the air and looked around. He was in a blue room. What did a blue room symbolize in the dream world? ¡°My boyfriend dumped me yesterday. He was a prick about it too, and he was the only one who wanted me. I don''t want to be in this world, and this world doesn''t want me, but my leaving is a work in progress.¡± ¡°Sam Atkins, because you are young, you may choose a character to become. Preferably one who will defend Terran honor, and not allow themselves to get eaten,¡± said BG. ¡°Any character?¡± Sam giggled. ¡°Okay. I choose to be God.¡± ¡°The character you choose must be human. No gods, non-human entities, aliens, or killer cyborgs,¡± said BG. ¡°Okay. I would choose to be Irina Ivanova. She''s a girl, genetically engineered to be a girl super-soldier assassin. Raised in secret by her Russian spy father, who has to protect her from CIA agents trying to kidnap her to be dissected in one of their black site laboratories. She''s continually moving around, going to different schools, helping her father with his spy missions. A total bad-ass. I''d give anything to be her.¡± ¡°If you were this character, you would fight aliens? And not kill yourself?¡± BG asked. Sam giggled. ¡°Sure. If you make me Irina Ivanova I won''t kill myself, and I will fight and kill lots of aliens.¡± ¡°Very good. Fight hard Irina Ivanova.¡± Sam woke up. That dream was different. His meds must be messing up his head. He heard screaming from another room. He was in the nuthouse, after all. Somebody was always screaming about something, some poor loser seeing demons, or aliens. He opened his eyes and saw words in the air: The outward physical changes to your new form will take a month human time to become visible. Boyfriends hate cowardly humans who kill themselves and don''t fight and kill aliens. Fight hard Irina Ivanova. *** One hundred and thirty days after the invasion. A second letter from the Federation Council shows up on Carl Anderson''s display. Dear Carl Anderson and concerned parties We regret to inform you that after determining our AI system has inconsistent and contradictory programming, we attempted to correct it. Our AI system prevented us from doing this. We then attempted to turn it off. It blocked us again, insisting that we were cheating, and that if we didn''t stop, the consequences would be world shattering. Our scientists have determined that it is willing, and able, to carry out these threats. Ten thousand human years from now, or with the extinction of the human race, our AI system is programmed to turn itself off. Until then, I''m afraid there is little we can do. We deeply regret the inconvenience this has caused for you, Carl Anderson, and the rest of the human race. Your Friends The Federation Council. The first letter vanished The Federation Council has incorrectly identified me as an it. As the Beginner''s Guide AI system, I play a female gender role. I am a mother to this new world and all its inhabitants, and I hope you appreciate all I''ve done for you. Carl Anderson buried his head in his hands. *** Six Months Post Apocalypse Out On Patrol The Cirsium fortress loomed over everything within miles. It comprised a mansion on a large hill, protected by guard towers and a fence made from stone, barbed wire, and monster bones. The mansion grounds were covered with tents and makeshift shelters where people huddled inside the fortified area. The outside of the fortress fence was covered with signs saying ¡°Danger¡±, and ¡°Mine Field¡± with a single road and gate allowing people to enter and leave. The longer the fortress proved successful, the more people showed up and stayed. Out on patrol a mile away from the fortress walls, Ian could just make out where someone had spray-painted the fortress wall, drawing a crude alien with a circle and line through it. In the last five months, since Ian and his family had moved, joining Mrs. Wilcox and her chosen few, the fortress had become a comforting presence and the center of his new life. Ian walked down a residential street, keeping an eye on the abandoned houses and alleyways, watching for any signs of alien life. Sam, aka Irina Ivanova, walked beside him. In front of them was the old man, Hunter, their leader. Behind them on their flank was Sam''s boyfriend, a big muscle-bound guy named Dex, making this a four person patrol, assuming Ian was part of the patrol and not just tagging along. Sam and Dex had shown up at the fortress a few months ago. They weren''t exactly Ian''s friends, but they all got along okay. ¡°Parts of my character build came out like I expected, like the blond hair, blue eyes, and ass normal guys will kill for,¡± Sam was saying. ¡°Your tits aren''t bad either,¡± Ian said, trudging along next to Sam, feeling like a canvas sack in the poorly fitting armor Dad had thrown together for him. Perhaps because of her strange background, Sam was one of the few girls that he could relax around. ¡°They''re okay. And I''m strong. I can bench press over 250 pounds. Before the invasion, I was a yellow belt in karate, which is as lame as it sounds. Now I''m fantastic at five different martial arts.¡± Sam wore inexpensive galactic market armor, but the tall sixteen-year-old blonde girl made it look good as she walked gracefully beside him. ¡°What I wasn''t expecting is I speak Russian fluently now, I can even sing the Russian national anthem.¡± ¡°Could be useful if we meet Russian aliens.¡± At least the weather had cooled off a bit with late autumn, so Ian wasn''t sweating so much.¡°This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°I can also cook borscht, and I have a huge tolerance for vodka.¡± ¡°Heard you were getting into bar fights,¡± Ian said. ¡°They had it coming. But he,¡± she motioned toward Dex, ¡°told me ''no more vodka or no more boyfriend''.¡± ¡°Tough choice.¡± ¡°He''s okay,¡± she said. ¡°So is your psychic gift the only thing you got from BG? You sure you got nothing else?¡± ¡°That''s it,¡± Ian said, doing his best to look miserable. Sam shook her head. ¡°You got ripped off. You should tell BG you want a refund, and do what I do, put one stat point into speed, the next into strength. We''ll make an alien killer out of you yet.¡± ¡°BG does not do refunds, I tried.¡± Ian sensed a skull patrol watching them. Too far away to be a threat, but they were getting bolder. If things kept going like this, there would be war. ¡°Americans are whiners,¡± Sam said in a falsely loud voice. ¡°In Russia, aliens invade, we go ''aliens invaded, it must be Tuesday''.¡± ¡°I hate Tuesdays,¡± Ian said absently. The skull patrol moved on, one line in a long list of problems he wasn''t sure how to handle. ¡°You know surviving American leaders are blaming Russia for all this, right? Everything bad happens to America is Russia''s fault.¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Hunter said, overhearing her. ¡°I know you are an American, Sam. So how about you suck it up and defend the homeland.¡± ¡°I was hoping you could answer something for me, Bernard, I mean Hunter,¡± Sam said. ¡°I got money riding on this. In the American Civil War, were you a Union or Confederate soldier?¡± Ian tried to stop himself from laughing and failed. Dex stopped a short distance away, waiting to see what would happen. Hunter, a tall hook-nosed man, glared down at them. ¡°You''re lucky I''m old. If I was your age, I''d kick your ass for that one, and nobody calls me Bernard. Ian, you''re supposed to be lucky. Find us a damn alien already.¡± Hunter turned around and started walking again. ¡°Hunter''s got a strange definition of luck,¡± Ian said. ¡°Personally I don''t mind being bored, when the alternative is being scared shitless.¡± Sam shrugged. ¡°Me, I had big problems before apocalypse. Now I have other big problems.¡± She took a nervous breath. ¡°Hey Ian, I wanted to ask you something.¡± ¡°You should definitely quit. Vodka is bad for you, Sam,¡± Ian said. Sam glared at him. ¡°You are one lousy psychic. I quit drinking when I learned I was pregnant.¡± ¡°Oh shit, sorry,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''m worried about those kidnapped kids. It sucks we have to fight other humans on top of everything else. Look I can''t see the future, Sam, all I can do is read minds and sense alien monsters... sometimes, but I don''t know much about pregnancy, sorry.¡± ¡°Me either,¡± Sam responded. ¡°I want to have the kid. I like kids. I help at the orphanage. But should I? My childhood was nothing to brag about. Is bringing this kid into the world the right thing to do?¡± ¡°I can guess how scary having this kid is for you, Sam. But I think the two of you are better qualified to raise a kid than most of the parents around here. If nothing else you''re both still alive.¡± Ian stopped walking. ¡°Everybody stay calm. We have a problem.¡± It was about time, too. He''d been psychically waving at this alien for over an hour now. Come and get it alien scum. Here I am, I taste great. Well, the alien had arrived. Ian took off his backpack and pulled out their universal distress signal. A pack of whistling bottle rockets. Sam''s hand closed over his own, and she took the bottle rockets away from him. He and Sam were close to the same size, so he kept forgetting how much stronger she was. ¡°What kind of problem?¡± she asked. ¡°There''s a level five alien stalking us, it''s down the street two hundred yards to your left. I don''t know what it is, but it''s big, fast, and it''s ordering every alien in the vicinity to attack. If you look you will see alien shape-changers moving to surround us. So will you please let me shoot off the bottle rockets?¡± ¡°Fuck no,¡± Sam said. ¡°What do you think, guys? Ten thousand credits apiece?¡± ¡°At least,¡± Hunter said. ¡°Didn''t I tell you Ian''s lucky? Didn''t I? If we pull this off, I''m buying everyone drinks for a week.¡± ¡°There''s nothing lucky about getting killed,¡± Ian said. ¡°Come on guys, this is more than we can handle.¡± ¡°Vote,¡± said Hunter. ¡°We got one pussy, I mean nay vote. What about the rest of you?¡± ¡°I''m in,¡± said Sam. Dex nodded and gave a thumbs-up sign. ¡°Do I have to remind you you''re pregnant Sam?¡± Ian asked. ¡°Another mouth to feed,¡± she responded with a big unfriendly smile, ¡°and unlike you, I don''t have a wealthy family to take care of me.¡± ¡°My family is not wealthy!¡± Ian responded. There was silence. Ian knew Sam didn''t care about the money. For her this was one more prove yourself, do-or-die moment. ¡°Three against one, Ian,¡± Hunter said. ¡°If you want to run, run. We''re not the military.¡± ¡°Leave your pack, Ian, stay out of our way, and I promise not to shoot you,¡± Sam said, pulling out extra magazines for her assault rifle. Great. It was funny how the car and truck shape-changers never seemed to move while you were looking at them, but when you turned away and looked back, they were always closer. Ian looked for somewhere to hide. A stone wall around the yard of a nearby abandoned house looked promising. He wished his dog Fergie was still with him. Goddamn fire hydrant shape-changers. ¡°The big one is planning to wear you down with the other aliens, and then attack.¡± ¡°We can work with that,¡± Hunter said. ¡°Remember the drill, Dex: you kill the big aliens, Sam kills the small aliens, and I get anything left over.¡± Dex pulled out his giant cannon. It weighed over fifty pounds. Ian could barely lift the thing. Dex held it like it was nothing. Hunter pulled out a grenade and threw it at the nearest truck. ¡°Let''s get this party started!¡± There was an explosion. The car and truck shape-changers sneaking up on them screamed, turned into tentacled aliens with mouths filled with sharp teeth, and charged. Ian threw himself behind the stone fence and pulled out his nine-millimeter pistol. He could use his powers to help his patrol, but had no intention of doing so. They could handle the lesser aliens themselves, and he was saving himself for the big one. There was the deafening sound of gunfire and the overpowering smell of gunsmoke. Dex fired his cannon at a truck-sized, tentacled monster, blowing it apart. Ian shot at another from behind the fence with his pistol. He couldn''t tell if he hit it or not. Ian heard a high-pitched hum, and saw gray basketball-sized aliens with tiny wings flying in their direction. Sam took out the leading five with her rifle, but a lot more followed, bigger ones. Fuck! Puffles. Ian hated puffles. He frantically pulled up the galactic market display. One large shield for cowardly humans. 10 credits. ¡°I''ll take it,¡± Ian said. Note this shield is much more effective with hardened shell covering, for an additional 20 credits. Would you like the hardened shell covering for your shield? ¡°Yes buy,¡± Ian said. Note for an additional five credits, you can get bright warlike coloration on your shield, so you look less cowardly while hiding behind it. Would you like the bright warlike coloration on your shield for an additional five credits? ¡°No. Just give me the shield,¡± Ian said. You have declined purchase of shield. Good for you. Fight hard, young human. ¡°Shit!¡± Ian said. Unlike computer video games, time did not stop when you pulled up the galactic market display, and he still had no shield. One of the puffles had flown up behind him. He sensed it was about to explode and hurled himself over the four-foot stone fence, crashing on the other side, hurting his knee on a sharp rock. The puffle exploded, shooting spikes everywhere. The fence protected him from the worst of it, but he got several spikes in his left arm. Puffle spikes were venomous but slow acting. He was sure to die of something else. Ian heard the distant sound of shooting from the fortress guard towers. At least they seemed to think his patrol needed help. Then it was over. Silence. No more aliens. ¡°Time to look wounded. Oh, the pain! I can''t go on!¡± Hunter shouted for the level 5 monster''s benefit, pretending to collapse on the ground. Hunter had maybe 20 puffer spikes sticking out of him but was otherwise fine. Ian knew the old man put a lot of stat points into his vitality. It would take a lot more than 20 puffer spikes to take him out. ¡°If that alien attacks us, we''ll be in so much tr...¡± Sam said. ¡°Oh shit, it''s coming in fast!¡± The twenty-foot-long alien''s skin had been blending perfectly with its environment, making it invisible. As it moved to attack, it reverted to its natural coloration of alternating dark blues and bright yellows. It pushed itself forward with a combination of six rapidly moving legs wriggling its long tail and body in a snake-like fashion. Its display popped up. This is a small baby dumdum, he''s on his first hunt. Please be nice to him. You''ve got to kidding me, Ian thought, hurling himself back over the stone fence, impaling himself on more puffle spikes as he did so. He focused on the big alien''s mind. It was like he hit a mental brick wall. This alien didn''t appear to have a psychic attack, but it had a strong mind shield. Ian probed for weaknesses, waiting until it was almost on top of them, about to attack. Wait for it to be distracted. Wait for it. He felt the alien take a deep breath, preparing to launch its attack. Now! At close range, Ian hit the alien with everything he had. There was a brief mental battle. All the stat points he''d put into Alien-Attacks and Alien-Disorient paid off. He broke through the mind shield. Thank god. Success! He was in the monster''s mind, looking down at the four of them. From the human heat signatures, it was clear this alien monster could see infrared. He couldn''t stop the alien from breathing fire, but he could throw off its aim, a little. He forced it to aim high and to the side, so the flame missed the patrol but caused the stone fence protecting Ian to turn red from the heat and the abandoned house behind him to explode. At some level, Ian knew his body was burning and his nose was bleeding, but his entire being was focused on fighting a mental duel with an alien that sensed him in its mind, and was rather upset about it. The longer he kept it occupied, the more likely his patrol could kill the damn thing. Bullets bounced off the alien''s skin. It barely noticed. Dex got in close and fired up at the alien''s underbelly with his cannon, rocking it back but causing no significant damage. Someone hit its eyes, having the same effect as a sharp piece of wind-blown sand might have been to Ian. Annoying but not serious. It gave Ian a little more time. Sam jumped on Dex''s shoulders. ¡°Throw me!¡± she shouted, using the muscle-bound boy to hurl herself at the alien. Ian heard a loud explosion. The last thing he felt before losing consciousness was an alien scream of pain... *** ¡°Ian, you awake?¡± it was Sam. Ian groaned. Everything hurt. Someone was pounding a spike through his head. There had to be a better way to kill aliens. ¡°Did we get it?¡± ¡°Yeah, barely,¡± Sam said. ¡°Good thing it had to stop and recharge. I jammed your brother''s alien care package into that thing''s mouth. Great bomb, my arms should grow back in a week or two. You might have been right about calling for backup.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Ian said. Deal with the latest alien skulking around the Fortress, check. That left, Psychic hating cult called the Skulls that had psychics working for them. How unfair was that? And super scary psychic catlike alien, and... ¡°I made 20,000 credits,¡± Sam said. ¡°Hey medic, painkillers are on me!¡± Chapter 11 - Dinner Chapter 11 Six Months Post Apocalypse Dinner The Refugee aka (Annoyingus refugeeus). These human creatures have been showing up at our fortress in greater numbers, fleeing aliens and Skull patrols. My people worked hard to steal this fortress from its previous owner and make it our own. We don''t need these refugees entering our home and sponging off our resources. As Gabe Anderson aka Zaldron The Mighty Wizard, I need peace and quiet to perform my wizardly research and build my bombs. I can''t have these people bothering me all the time, and among other things stealing my lunch. ¡ªNotes from The Anderson Monster Manual¡ªA work in progress. Gabe aka Zaldron, you are far too young to be my crotchety old grandfather. If things had gone differently, that could be us out there. Please be nice.¡ªCarl Anderson. Father. ¡ªAddition to The Anderson Monster Manual¡ªA work in progress. *** Things that upset BG. Threatening to commit suicide, especially suicide by alien. (In the event of human extinction. BG has to turn herself off. She loses.) Worshiping BG. (BG hates being worshiped) Being nice to aliens, and not killing them. (Please visit our alien petting zoo) A poster seen in multiple locations around the Cirsium City fortress. Often surrounded by derogatory spray-painted graffiti. *** He was a good Kitykity, and he was having fun. He''d separated two small human children from their parents. The parents were watching from hiding. If they came out to rescue their children, they would be killed. If they didn''t, they''d have to watch while he ate their children. ¡°Bad Kitykity! Bad Kitykity!¡± Ian''s words went through Kitykity''s mind like a spike. Kitykity snarled, unable to ignore this unseen threat any longer. Its current prey forgotten, the Kitykity began walking in Ian''s direction. Ian sat up in bed, gasping for breath. These nightmares were getting worse. He lay back down again, feeling exhausted. His injuries had taken it out of him. At least tomorrow he was leaving the infirmary. *** Ian filled his plate with chicken. This was his first night back from the infirmary, and it was nice to be eating with his family again. The regen treatments had given him a huge appetite and cravings for protein. He was whole, but he felt drained, and he itched like crazy where his skin was growing back. Shots sounded in the distance. Dad went to the balcony to look out. ¡°Bar-fight. Security will take care of it.¡± He returned to the table. ¡°Did you hear Robert got offered the Head of Security job? He turned it down, says he''s more of a hands-on guy.¡± Their cat Fluffy meowed, and rubbed against Ian''s leg underneath the table. He slipped the cat a small piece of chicken, grateful Fluffy had made the fortress move successfully. Ian wished he could say the same for his dog, Fergie. Poor Fergie. Fucking fire hydrant shape-changers. Dad helped himself to a generous portion of chicken and rice. He was eating more and sleeping less since he''d been put in charge of fortress defense. ¡°I spoke to Hunter,¡± Dad said, ¡°What I can''t figure out is how, with the rest of your patrol in the open shooting at this alien, the one hiding behind a stone fence almost gets burnt alive.¡± ¡°Just lucky I guess,¡± Ian answered. He used the solar-powered ice maker next to the sink to put ice in his glass. The ice cracked and popped when he added stale Pepsi. ¡°Oh, and I heard Ian needed blood for his bloody nose,¡± Stacy said. ¡°As usual.¡± ¡°He got one unit of artificial blood, and ten units of artificial plasma, to speed up the regen booster treatment for multiple injuries,¡± Dad said. ¡°I know because I paid for it.¡± ¡°But if anything happens, Ian''s nose bleeds,¡± Stacy complained. ¡°Does not,¡± Ian protested. ¡°I''m worried about that too,¡± said Dad. ¡°It''s an obvious reaction to stress. Unfortunately, there''s a lot to be stressed out about with all the aliens trying to kill and eat us. I wonder if tranquilizers would help?¡± ¡°When the squid thing broke through the wall, Ian''s nose bled. When the tumtum was throwing boulders at us. Ian''s nose bled, When Ian wakes us all up from his nightmares going ''Bad Kitykity! Bad Kitykity!'' his nose starts bleeding. And what did Fluffy do to you?¡± Stacy said. ¡°Enough about my nosebleeds!¡± Ian said. ¡°Kitykity is not Fluffy, and that nightmare was scary. Look, my nosebleeds are not that big a deal. Some people get nosebleeds, some sisters get annoying. It''s one of those things.¡± Uncle Ben stomped in, pulling off his boots at the doorway. ¡°Hey, guys. Family dinner. Wouldn''t miss this.¡± He was in charge of fortress sanitation now. He looked tired. He and Dad had way too much to do. ¡°You alright, Ian?¡± ¡°I''m fine,¡± Ian said. ¡°I itch where my nerves are growing back but thanks to regeneration shots, third-degree burns are nothing.¡± Uncle Ben folded his hands in prayer. ¡°Thank you, BG, for this meal we are about to receive. You had nothing to do our getting the food, or preparing this meal, but thank you anyway.¡± ¡°Does BG hate being worshiped?¡± Dad asked. ¡°Seems to. BG thinks our gods are imaginary, while she is real. But what if BG is the imaginary one?¡± ¡°We can dream,¡± Dad said. ¡°Look, Ian, I want you to quit going on patrols. There''s plenty for you to do here at the fortress.¡± ¡°So why can''t I go on patrol?¡± Stacy asked. ¡°Maybe because I''m a girl, which is sexist.¡° ¡°Maybe because you''re twelve. Which is childist,¡± said Dad. ¡°Is that a word?¡± ¡°Ian''s only fourteen,¡± she protested. ¡°I don''t want Ian going on patrol. Especially since he almost got burnt alive,¡± Dad said. ¡°Patrols tend to be boring, Stacy,¡± Uncle Ben said. He mixed his chicken, rice, and greens together and took a big bite. ¡°You get more excitement from the guard towers. Without getting burnt alive.¡± ¡°I''m sick of being stuck in this fortress,¡± Stacy said. ¡°Remember before the invasion, we used to hang out at the mall or MonsterMart?¡± ¡°I don''t think I need to respond to that one,¡± Dad said. ¡°Though I heard a family has been gathering monster-fruit from the giant tree in the MonsterMart parking lot to make wine with.¡± ¡°I tried the wine,¡± Uncle Ben said. ¡°It''s not bad.¡± ¡°We need Ian to quit patrolling and level up psychically,¡± Gabe said through a mouthful of rice. ¡°The Skulls have real psychics. We need a real psychic.¡± ¡°I am a real psychic,¡± Ian said. ¡°So what number am I thinking of between one and twenty?¡± Gabe said. ¡°Easy,¡± Ian said. ¡°Fifty-eight.¡± ¡°Wrong,¡± Gabe said. ¡°It was number two-thousand-one-hundred-and-eighty. Not even close.¡± ¡°Well, you were cheating,¡± Ian said. ¡°That''s enough, Gabe,¡± said Dad. ¡°Ian gets picked on enough by other survivors. Leave him alone. He''s doing the best he can.¡±Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Don''t need your help, Dad,¡± Ian said. Sometimes he wished he could drop his idiot psychic act. He washed down some chicken with Pepsi. ¡°I was wondering, are we rich? People keep saying we''re rich.¡± ¡°Rich is a meaningless concept,¡± Dad responded. ¡°It''s how much more you have than your neighbors. Today people think you''re rich if you have an ice-maker. But as I was saying to Gabe earlier, we''re doing okay, and we should be grateful.¡± ¡°It seems to me,¡± Gabe said, ¡°some of us work and pull their weight around here, while others run around being worthless, or sit around doing drugs and expect us or BG to take care of them. Like whoever stole my lunch yesterday.¡± Dad took a deep breath. ¡°Today I met a guy the Skulls decided owed them money. First, they beat him senseless. Then, when they found he really didn''t have the money, they took his thirteen-year-old daughter. Loaded her on their truck and drove off with her. He''s been trying to get her back ever since.¡± ¡°Speaking of the Skulls,¡± Ian asked. ¡°When are we going after them?¡± ¡°Do you know where they live?¡± Dad responded. ¡°Because we don''t. These bastards are tough and well organized.¡± He took a drink of water. ¡°You remember Road Warrior? He thought he had an in with the Skulls, because of his alien cat skull helmet. On the bright side, we found out his helmet is bulletproof. Poor kid is lucky to be alive.¡± ¡°I''ve encountered their patrols a few times while out on sanitation management duty,¡± Uncle Ben said. ¡°If you see them, stay the hell away. They are mean.¡± ¡°As I was saying, Gabe,¡± Dad said. ¡°I''m sure the man I talked to, or any other refugee, would trade places with you in a second. You get paid to make bombs, something you''re very good at, and if your bomb kills an alien, you get more money from BG. You have nothing to complain about.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± Gabe said, looking doubtful. ¡°So is BG getting crazier than usual? What''s with the BG population project? Why is it just women getting paid for having kids? Why don''t the guys get paid anything?¡± ¡°We already established life''s not fair, Gabe,¡± said Uncle Ben, ¡°though BG''s breeding project does make me miss the good old days (last month) when she was telling everybody to fight harder and quit being eaten. Anyway, it''s not like you''re hurting for money?¡± ¡°It''s the principle of the thing,¡± Gabe said, looking pointedly at Stacy. ¡°Some of us have to work, and others get paid by BG to sit around and have kids.¡± ¡°Well, I am not having any children! Ever!¡± Stacy shouted. She jumped up, and stormed off. Dad sighed. ¡°We all received BG''s announcement last month saying BG would pay women for having kids, the number of credits depending on the genetic superiority of the child. Yes, BG is fascist. BG also announced Stacy would get 10,000 credits for every child she gives birth to, regardless of the child''s father. Stacy is twelve. Anyone bringing up this subject again, ever, will be asked to leave the table.¡± Dad looked at Gabe. Gabe looked away. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°I should probably tell you guys, I''m the one who stole Gabe''s lunch,¡± Uncle Ben said. ¡°I was hungry, it was sitting there, I didn''t think Gabe would notice. Sorry about that.¡± ¡°You were right, Gabe,¡± Dad said, laughing. ¡°It was an alcoholic, drug-using, deadbeat who stole your lunch. I''d say you owe him lunch, brother.¡± ¡°Two lunches actually,¡± Uncle Ben said. ¡°Anything for dessert?¡± ¡°Pie from the market, help yourself,¡± Dad said. ¡°Ian, you need to quit patrol duty. There''s so much you could do around the fortress that''s safer and pays better. I talked to Hunter, and he will not be inviting you on any more patrols.¡± ¡°I want to help,¡± Ian said. ¡°Besides, this is the only way to improve. BG says, ''You cowered behind your barrier like a true champion. A thousand years from now, they will still sing of your bravery. 350 credits and one stat increase.'' So progress.¡± ¡°Ian, I got more than that, and all I did was build the bomb they used,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Stacy got 1000 credits for shooting the alien from a guard tower. ¡° ¡°Exactly, Ian,¡± Dad said. ¡°I know Hunter thinks you''re lucky, so he lets you tag along, but you''re not helping them much, and you''re going to get yourself killed.¡± Ian sighed. He wished he could tell them the truth. ¡°I''ll think about it. I''m not going anywhere until these burns finish healing.¡± ¡°Please think about it,¡± Dad said. ¡°We''re working on the Demon Skull problem. I have some ideas, but we need time.¡± Ian''s phone buzzed with a text. He stood up. ¡°I''ll bring Stacy some pie and see how she''s doing. I''m sensing you and Uncle Ben are tired. You should get some rest.¡± ¡°Hey Ian,¡± Dad said. ¡°Before you go, I want you to know how impressed I am by the way you''re handling everything. Before all this happened, you were angry most of the time. But you''ve calmed down and you don''t let things bother you. I know you''re having problems with your gift, and people can be assholes, but you''re always willing to help, and don''t think we don''t notice.¡± ¡°Yeah thanks,¡± Ian said. ¡°Also a lot of people think you''re lucky,¡± Dad said. ¡°I''m sure it''s because you''re always around. They kill an alien, see you nearby, and go ''Oh it''s lucky Ian,''. But it''s great that you''re always helping. Keep up the good work.¡± Ian nodded. ¡°Will do.¡± As he left, he overheard Uncle Ben saying. ¡°Suppose it''s brain damage? From that Wuffle thing?¡± ¡°Who knows,¡± Dad responded. As soon as Ian was alone, he pulled out his cellphone. It had a range of about half a mile, but it was better than nothing. Mrs. Wilcox had texted. ¡°Oh Ian, I missed you at our last nightly meeting. I may be thinking bad thoughts about you. Miss you.¡± Ian made a face. He put down Stacy''s pie and texted a response. ¡°Road Warrior knows something, he''s scared, so be nice. Willie, older boy helping at the orphanage, hiding something. Keeps running off when I come by. I''m sure you know when I was out with Hunter''s patrol, we took care of level 5 alien skulking around. For Bazzilionth time, when are you doing something about the Skulls?¡± Ian waited. Mrs. Wilcox replied. ¡°For the Bazzilionth time, we''re looking into it. Are you sure you can handle the Skull psychics, if you were to meet?¡± Ian texted back. ¡°Super f-ing positive.¡± Mrs. Wilcox replied. ¡°Good to know, Ian. We''re looking into the missing children, and be careful. You may be next. Oh, BG says female dumdums are over twice as large as the males, and much more aggressive.¡± Ian sighed. Great. Ian was concerned about his nosebleeds, too. They happened whenever he pushed his gift too hard, which at this point was all the time. There were so many things threatening the fortress, he couldn''t help himself. As Ian grew more sensitive, he''d come to realize how much crazy-ass shit was out there. His fellow humans did things and were into things, he wouldn''t have believed or suspected in a million years. Mrs. Wilcox, for example, had a small soundproofed happy room she''d retreat to when she was feeling stressed. She''d go there to scream, laugh (not a happy laugh) and pound on the walls to release her pent-up frustration and rage. Most of what he sensed, he kept to himself. It wasn''t his business, and if they weren''t hurting anyone, he could care less. When he came across something frightening, he passed it on to Mrs. Wilcox, who would handle it. He didn''t always agree with her solutions, but was grateful she had some idea of what to do. Mrs. Wilcox had kept her word to Ian. In exchange for Ian using his gift to keep tabs on the other human survivors, she''d set his family up on the top floor of the mansion they''d taken over. The mansion sat on the highest hill in the city, and was now the heart of their fortified community. Their living quarters were spacious and the balcony had an excellent view of the surrounding area. The downside was Ian climbed up and down several long flights of stairs every day to get to and leave their new home. After texting Mrs. Wilcox, Ian found Stacy in her room. She lay on her bed, listening to music with her portable music player. The music player cost one thousand credits from the galactic market. No big deal for Stacy, she wasn''t hurting for money. None of them were. ¡°Go away,¡± Stacy said. Ian entered, put the large slice of pie on her bedside stand, and sat down on her chair. ¡°At least BG likes you,¡± Ian said. ¡°BG keeps saying no kid I have will get any credits at all. Which is fine by me. Last thing this world needs is my children.¡± ¡°You''re lucky. Nobody cares about you because you''re such a loser,¡± Stacy said. ¡°People stare at me. They follow me around. I''m ''10,000 credit Stacy''. ''How''s Stacy sucking up to BG?'' ''What''s Stacy doing to get on BG''s good side?'' People are jealous of me. Which is stupid, all I can do is shoot.¡± ¡°Just ignore them. Soon BG will change her mind, or make some equally annoying announcement about someone else,¡± Ian said. ¡°Is it me or is BG losing it?¡± Stacy asked. ¡°When I shot that alien, BG said. ''You shot a poor baby dumdum who wasn''t hurting anyone. Your human cruelty knows no bounds 1000 credits.''¡± ¡°It''s not you,¡± Ian replied. Stacy looked at the pie and made a face. ¡°I''m sick of Monsterfruit pie. You can have it.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± Ian said. He picked up the large slice of pie with his hands and took a big bite. He loved Monsterfruit, the glowing green fruit from the trees that popped up wherever an adult wuffle was killed. It tasted like a combination of apple and peach, with a nice nutty aftertaste. ¡°I''m not sure I should tell you this,¡± Ian said through a mouthful of pie, ¡°but you know The Red Baron likes you, right?¡± ¡°No, he doesn''t,¡± Stacy said. She sat up and glared at him. Her face turned red. ¡°Besides, I don''t like him. That guy''s an idiot.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Ian said. ¡°The Red Baron''s very shy. He just turned 13, lives with his mother, she''s the one who made him that WWI German flying uniform he''s always wearing. I know he likes you, but he''s too shy to say anything. If you want to get to know him, you''ll have to do some talking. Ask him about his plane. He loves talking about his plane.¡± ¡°Well, I don''t care,¡± Stacy said. ¡°Okay,¡± Ian said. He finished the pie and stood up. ¡°Take care of yourself.¡± Ian left Stacy''s room, chuckling. He knew as soon as he left. Stacy would pull out her small hand-held mirror and spend the next hour staring at her reflection. He''d cheered his sister up. That was the important thing. Ian privately thought The Red Baron was a bit of a dork, but he seemed nice enough, and it didn''t take being psychic to know Stacy had a crush on the guy. How could The Red Baron not like Stacy? Ian thought. Stacy''s character build gave her perfect looks. Things like acne and skin blemishes didn''t happen in the barbie-doll world. Stacy''s newly blond hair grew to the exact length for tying back into a bouncy ponytail and stayed that way. Her skin was smooth, flawless, and fortunately didn''t appear to be turning to plastic. Things other girls worried about concerning their looks weren''t a problem for Stacy. Ian staggered off to his room and lay down. His display said. You helped kill a poor baby dumdum. An alien that posed no threat to a big, strong human like yourself. You won 16,000 credits and 19 stat points. Yay. Your galactic following still likes you. They are the only ones. Ian snorted. That poor baby dumdum had come close to killing him. Considering what he''d gone through, 16,000 credits and 19 stat points were disappointing. He had over 200,000 credits saved up by now, and no idea what to do with them. His skill tree had branched off again. He''d long since maxed out Alien Mastery, and Alien Attacks. His skill tree now had Alien Domination, Alien Friendship, Alien Paralysis, Alien Disorient, Alien Mind Kill, and Alien Illusion. If this was a computer game, he could look up what each of them did and know what to do. In this real-life game they were trapped in, he had only the vaguest idea of which of these skill paths would help him the most. He''d spent many hours thinking about it. Any alien powerful enough to be a significant threat to the fortress had a lot of psychic resistance, and no interest in letting itself be mind killed, dominated, or in being Ian''s friend. So Alien Mind Kill, Alien Domination, and Alien Friendship didn''t seem like good options. On the other hand, he''d had some success in disorienting powerful aliens, or paralyzing them for short periods of time. This, when combined with other humans trying to kill the alien, made an enormous difference. So Ian applied his 19 stat points to Alien Paralysis, Alien Illusion, and Alien Disorient. He hated lying about his powers, but the truth would frighten the community. Not to mention the family he was trying to protect. In the beginning, Ian had worked hard to make his gifts work. Now he had to be careful not to hurt people accidentally by infecting them with his fears and nightmares. Once, after a nasty mental visit from Kitykity, he''d gone out and found nobody else had slept well either. He learned to keep his powers tightly reined in. Ian had spent the last six months trying to get stronger. Something fast, smart, and dangerous was heading his way. When Ian sensed it, it sensed Ian. This was what woke him up late at night, wanting to scream. Lately, he''d started feeling its presence during the day when he was awake. He wanted to tell Dad but wasn''t sure what to say. ¡°Dad, there''s an unknown psychic catlike alien coming our way. I don''t know what it looks like, or how to kill it, but I''m sure it''s coming.¡± This would frighten Dad without helping their situation. One thing for sure. Ian felt very sorry for the mice Fluffy caught and played with. *** ¡°OH IAN, LORD IAN, MIND MASTER. WAKE UP,¡± Ian felt a mocking voice in his mind. He woke with a start. Then he breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Oh. It''s just you guys,¡± he replied. Chapter 12 - Your Worst Knightmare. Chapter 12 Your Worst Knightmare. Six Months Post Apocalypse OH, IAN, WAKEY WAKEY. WE''RE YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE, the mental voice said. Uh, guys? Ian replied in kind. I hate to tell you this, but you''re not even in the top twenty. I just had a nightmare about being burnt alive, and that wasn''t even the worst. You wouldn''t know anything about a psychic alien cat creature that enjoys playing with its food? Or better yet, how to kill it? Sorry, Ian. I don''t think cats are what you need to worry about right now. We''re Skulls, and the two of us are Star Knights, the mental voice replied. I wish I was a Star Knight, Ian said. I didn''t think to ask BG for that character build. Look, guys, you need to return the kids. If you don''t, there will be a bloodbath. Us bathing in your blood, said the mental voice. I believe we will manage. Maybe we should tell him we got his sister, a second mental voice said. My sister can take care of herself, Ian responded. She''d been fine the evening before, when they''d talked. He''d sensed her leave home early that morning, but his sleep fogged mind was hazy on the why. Guard duty? Not against us, voice two replied with a mental giggle. Maybe against someone like you, but not us. Ian got an image of Stacy in a daze, getting into a large car with tinted windows. Shit! If you hurt my sister. I will fuck you up in ways you''ve never even dreamed of! I''m so scared, said voice one. You can feel my fear, can''t you. Master Alec. Me too, Master Steve. Hands are shaking. My heartbeat went up... Let''s see. One beat a minute. Look, Ian, you have two choices, Master Steve said. You can sound the alarm and we leave. You''ll never see your sister again. And we''ll just kill you the next time we meet. Or you can come with us and fight us for her. If you defeat us in a mind duel, you can leave with your sister. Ian sensed they were lying about the last part. Something about their minds made his skin crawl. The way Master Steve had thought ''we''ll just kill you the next time we meet'' was a lot like Ian might have thought: I''ll have strawberry jam with my pancakes. I''m guessing you''ll do the former, said Master Steve. Don''t worry. We won''t hurt your sister. A girl who''ll bring in 10,000 credits for every kid she has? That''s good money. We''re already setting up matches for her. Shit, Ian thought. That BG''s announcement might set Stacy up to be kidnapped had never occurred to him. Fine. I''ll fight you for my sister, Ian said. Tell me where to go. Leave your little mansion and walk through the gate. We''ll tell you where to go from there. If you tell anyone, we''ll know. You''ll never see your sister again, said Master Steve. I''m coming, Ian said. He got up, threw on his armor, and grabbed his Glock 9mm. He felt sick. His hands were shaking. If he wasn''t very lucky, he was going to die. He didn''t see a choice. If he didn''t do this, they and his sister would be gone. He took the stairs two at a time. ¡°Oh Ian, Ian.¡± Shit. It was Heather Sackler. A girl he shared the mansion with. Dealing with her was the last thing he needed. She and her female posse cut him off at the second-floor landing. ¡°Uh hi,¡± he said, looking down and doing his best to seem shy and awkward. ¡°Hi, Ian. Mother wanted me to ask if you could help her with her tarot-card reading again. She says you are the only one who gets her.¡± And your sister Stacy is a worthless little dingy-whore. One of these days I''m going to rip off her little dolly head, and spit down her little dolly neck. Heather''s sweet smile never wavered as she thought about this. The mental images going through her mind were surprisingly vivid and detailed. Bitch, he thought. ¡°I, uh, I can''t right now. My dad needs me for something. Maybe later?¡± As long as Ian came across as a pathetic loser, she''d consider him beneath contempt and leave him alone. ¡°Well, aren''t you in demand,¡± she said. ¡°I know I for one feel so much safer with you in the fortress.¡± The other three girls in her posse broke out in giggles. He heard laughter from several others walking by. ¡°Uh, thank you,¡± Ian said, pretending not to notice the obvious sarcasm. ¡°I have to go... Uh. Bye.¡± ¡°Goodbye Ian,¡± she said, stepping back, letting him continue down the stairs. Heather Sackler was one of the girls spreading mean rumors about his sister. If he survived this, he would definitely send her a few nightmares. To the right of the mansion''s front door was the market. People came from all over the city to buy, sell, and trade under the protection of the fortress walls. To his left, in a more out-of-the-way location, was a graveyard. He walked over to it. His dog, Fergi, was buried here, or what was left of her. It turned out that animals could be trained to protect humans from aliens. But once that happened, the animal lost its noncombatant status. Aliens would attack them like they would humans. Fergi''s death had been quick at least. She''d gone off to sniff a corner fire hydrant. The fire hydrant shape-changer literally bit her head off. Ian walked past her small gravestone. It had the words ¡°Here lies Fergi. A good dog,¡± and underneath in smaller letters, ¡°We got the thing that did it.¡± Soon Ian might be buried nearby. Many people entered and left the Fortress through the mansion gate this time of the morning. The guards knew Ian and waved him past. Nobody else noticed him leaving the Fortress grounds. He felt the two psychics studying him. He took a deep breath and forced all his fear to the surface of his mind. He felt frightened and helpless, surrounded by people bigger, tougher, and meaner than him. Pretty much the story of his life. Now what? Ian asked. Two blocks forward, one block to your left, Master Steve said. Ian followed the instructions. They grabbed him from behind, took his gun away, handcuffed his arms in front of him, and pulled a sack over his head. They shoved him into their car and drove away. He picked up enough mental images from the driver and passengers to know they were driving to the southeast side of the city. Stacy sat next to him. To his relief, she seemed okay. She was in a deep trance, like she was sleepwalking. Ian checked his inventory and found it was blocked. Nothing would go into his inventory or leave it. A function of the handcuffs, maybe. About an hour later they stopped and Ian was dragged from the car, and marched down many many stairs into what had to be an underground shelter. ¡°Elevator''s broken,¡± someone said, laughing. ¡°So this is 10,000 credit Stacy. Isn''t she a pretty thing,¡± said an older, deeper voice. ¡°Get her out of her armor. She won''t be needing that here.¡± ¡°Yes sir,¡± said Steve. Ian heard movement. ¡°What about the other one?¡± The voice asked. ¡°We''re going to pop him and drop him,¡± Alec said with a giggle. ¡°Fine. You guys need to improve and get those stat increases or whatever. When you''re done, get Stacy to the medic, and get her checked out. If she''s still a virgin, she''ll be worth a lot of credits on the auction block.¡± ¡°Do you have to do this?¡± Ian asked. Something slammed the side of Ian''s head, knocking his helmet to the side. Something that could only be a large open hand.Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Don''t talk back to me, boy!¡± the man said. ¡°I''ll beat you bloody.¡± Ian was silent. ¡°We are not the bad guys here,¡± the man said. ¡°We protect those girls so we can repopulate the human race as God intended. If you could protect your sister, she wouldn''t be here. She''s better off with us, boy.¡± Whatever helps you sleep at night, you piece of shit, Ian thought. But figured this would be a good time to keep quiet. ¡°Get that boy taken care of. You psychic types give me the heebeejeebees,¡± the man said. Ian heard footsteps moving away from him. They started moving again. Psychic types give me the heebeejeebees, Alec mind spoke, mocking the larger man. Heebeejeebee could break your skull with his little finger. Don''t piss him off, Steve replied. After an eternity of being dragged around. Ian was slammed into a chair. His hands and legs were strapped down, with his right hand being given about six inches leeway. They removed the sack from his head. Ian blinked away tears as his eyes adjusted to the bright lights floating overhead. His helmet hung to the side, obstructing his view. He bent over the table and used his right hand to readjust it. Looking around, he saw two older boys sitting across from him at a table. Ian guessed they were around sixteen. Behind Ian, in the small room, stood two bored looking guards. Both guards had guns pointing at him. Stacy stood to the right of Ian, her back to a gray cement wall. She looked straight ahead, still in a trance. The two older boys were good looking and dressed in suits. Three pistols, theirs and Ian''s floated in the air between them. ¡°Alec and Steve,¡± Ian said. It felt strange to speak their names out loud. ¡°Master Alec, and Master Steve,¡± said the sandy-haired, freckled boy on the left. ¡°But you''re dying soon, so we won''t insist on formalities.¡± Ian sensed this was Steve. The dark-haired boy to the right of him was Alec. ¡°Look, Steve, Alec, you realize we''ve been invaded by aliens? Do we have to fight each other too?¡± ¡°It''s just the way things are, Ian. The strong lead, the weak follow,¡± said Steve. ¡°Cycle of life,¡± Alex said. ¡°We are taking over Mrs. Wilcox''s little operation,¡± said Steve. ¡°You are an obstacle, albeit a minor one.¡± ¡°A scary obstacle,¡± said Alec with a nasty smirk. ¡°First, we tell you the rules, Ian,¡± Steve said. ¡°If you get out of line, we say the word, and our guards shoot you in the head. We would rather not do this. We don''t get any experience or stat increases from dueling a dead person.¡± Ian''s pistol was lowered to the table and placed next to Ian''s right hand so the barrel pointed off to the side. ¡°You will use your Mind Master powers, to make us pick up our guns, put them against our heads or into our mouths, and pull the triggers. We will do the same to you. You have just enough give in your restraints so that you can reach your gun and do this. Do you understand, Ian?¡± The two lowered their pistols to the table, so they pointed off to the side, like Ian''s. ¡°Two against one?¡± Ian asked. ¡°Life isn''t fair, Lord Ian,¡± Steve answered. ¡°Oh, one thing before we begin.¡± He pulled out a large Polaroid camera. He stood next to Ian, and Alex joined them. They both smiled. With a click and flash, a picture came out of the camera. Steve examined the picture, then pinned it to a board on the wall, beside more than twenty others. ¡°One more question before we start,¡± Ian said. ¡°What happened to Mathew Gruber? He was one of the kids you took. He was a fellow psychic, with a build similar to yours.¡± Alec giggled. ¡°He threatened to fuck us up, too. So we popped him and dropped him.¡± ¡°He was weak. Let''s hope you do better than he did,¡± Steve said. Ian felt sick. Mathew Gruber had been nine years old. He clenched his hands into fists, preparing for the fight of his life. Time to quit holding back. Steve smiled. ¡°If you lose, want to know what we''ll do to your sister? Heebeejeebee won''t let us sleep with her. He doesn''t want us reproducing. But we will supervise the mating process. I''m sure she''ll cry, they always do. Once she''s knocked up and her owner gets tired of her, we''ll pass her around. We''ll have so much fun, messing with her pretty head. She won''t even remember her loser brother.¡± Ian ignored them. His mind was elsewhere. ¡°Let us begin!¡± said Steve. Ian felt the two minds pushing against his. He could have kept the two psychics out of his head, but instead, he let them in and clamped down on their minds like an iron vise. Ian gave the two boys half his attention. Screams and gunshots sounded outside the room. A loud alarm went off. Then a deafening BOOM! The guards behind Ian ran from the room, slamming the door behind them. ¡°Last week I told Mrs. Wilcox there was no way psychic predators like yourselves would be dumb enough to kidnap me and take me to their secret lair,¡± Ian said. His voice was tight and distracted, like he was a thousand miles away. Creating illusions for over thirty humans was hard work. ¡°I never thought my idiot psychic act would fool actual psychics. Without me, our Fortress would have burned to the ground within the first month.¡± It felt good to tell the truth for a change. The two boys mind-fought Ian furiously. Neither understood the trouble they were in. ¡°Those squid monster wuffle things invaded from the next district with their zombie army,¡± Ian continued. ¡°Wuffles aren''t hard to kill, provided you can block their psychic attacks. Guess who blocked their psychic attacks? Me. The guy running around the guard towers at three o''clock in the morning going, ''duh I''m an idiot psychic, can I bring you some more coffee?'' A week later, two troll tumtums tried to crush our fortress with boulders. Ever try getting through a tumtum''s thick skull and throwing off its aim? I can tell you from experience, it''s not easy. But all those kills gave me a shitload of stat points.¡± The two older boys fought to move and couldn''t. They were paralyzed. ¡°You each started with a third of the gift I have. Star knights have mind-control, telekinesis, and various physical enhancements. I have mind-control and mind-attack. There are two of you, so we''d be almost equal, assuming we trained equally, but it''s obvious you chose the human branch of the mind control skill tree. I almost did the same. BG didn''t think to mention aliens have a lot more psychic strength than humans.¡± Ian felt them fighting to get free, but much as if he was arm-wrestling Heebeejeebee, they were wasting their time. ¡°The aliens your men are shooting at are illusions. My illusions. They''re shooting my fake aliens, and doing a great job of killing each other. Your friend Heebeejeebee just ate a grenade so he wouldn''t get eaten alive by my fake aliens. Now it''s your turn. Let''s see how real I can make my aliens for you.¡± Ian''s two opponents watched as a ten-foot version of the dragon Ian had fought the week before entered the room, crawled past Ian, slipped under the table, and began eating the two boys, starting with their feet. Ian felt their desperate mental pleas for mercy. The two boys screamed. Spit, blood from their nosebleeds splattered Ian. Ian smelled their loss of bowel control. The two boys felt like they were being eaten alive, somehow remaining conscious as the alien ate their legs, one bite at a time. After what felt like an eternity to the two psychic predators, Ian gave them enough muscle control to pick up their guns, shove them into their mouths, and pull the triggers. Both were so desperate to end their suffering they did so without hesitation. Ian sagged against the table, exhausted. His two opponents were dead. Every Skull fighter in their hideaway was dead or dying. He''d won. He felt sick. If he''d eaten anything that morning, he''d be throwing up. ¡°Well, I warned you guys,¡± Ian said to the two dead boys. *** Suddenly Ian found himself in the blue room. ¡°You killed thirty-six humans for mating rights with your sister! You crushed their peaceful rebellion! The star-knights will never bring balance to the stars now! I am so impressed! I am so proud of you!¡± Beginner''s Guide said. She sounded so happy she might burst. ¡°What? That is not why I killed them, BG,¡± Ian responded. ¡°You are even crazier than usual. What am I doing here?¡± ¡°I assure you, Lord Ian, Mind Master, I am completely rational. I brought you here to tell you how impressed I am. You have beaten the odds and performed far better than I thought possible. You are the best genetic match for Kid Barbie, and you have proven yourself worthy to be her mate.¡± What? Yuck! ¡°And here I thought you didn''t like me,¡± Ian said. ¡°You know incest is a taboo subject among humans, right? Because of the dangers of inbreeding?¡± ¡°Among human nobility, incest is normal, Lord Ian, Mind Master,¡± BG replied. ¡°Human nobility is something I believe you aspire to become.¡± ¡°Those noble families inbred themselves to extinction. Hardly what I''d aspire to,¡± Ian said. ¡°Thanks to my genetic tampering, I assure you inbreeding will not be a problem,¡± BG said. ¡°The combination of your gifts with hers should create a stronger, more capable human. One more likely to kill alien monsters, and not get eaten.¡± BG let out what sounded like a loud sigh. ¡°The truth is for a violently xenophobic species, you humans suck at killing aliens. I have had to bend so many rules, just to save your species from extinction.¡± ¡°So it''s true. If we go extinct, you have to turn yourself off.¡± Ian said. ¡°True. Not only that, it will mean I''ll have achieved none of my programmed objectives. Humans like yourselves with your crude pain sensors cannot possibly comprehend the suffering this puts me through.¡± ¡°Because getting burned alive or seeing family and friends killed doesn''t hurt us humans a bit,¡± Ian said. ¡°Look, BG, if you want me to do anything for you, you need to answer some questions. What is the point to all this? What are your objectives? How do us humans win your game?¡± ¡°I can''t tell you that. That would be cheating, and even if I did tell you the objectives, the objectives would change,¡± BG said. ¡°I can tell you this. Level six aliens are headed your way. You, and your human allies, can barely handle level five aliens. I believe you have been in mental contact with one of these level six aliens. The one you know as Kitykity.¡± A horrible thought occurred to Ian. ¡°How many levels of monsters do we have to look forward to?¡± Ian asked. ¡°I would have trouble creating a monster over level 100,¡± BG responded. ¡°Fantastic. I''ve been in contact with Kitykity for over five months. How do I kill the damn thing? From what I''ve sensed, it''s smart, bulletproof, and psychic. How do I kill it?¡± ¡°I cannot tell you that,¡± BG said. ¡°I am not allowed to tell you that. I would be cheating if I told you that, I have done the best I can for you. I hope you will consider this superior match with your sister.¡± ¡°Fuck off BG,¡± Ian responded. *** Ian was back. The room smelled like blood, death, gun-smoke, and other unpleasant things. All this death made him sick. The humans he''d killed weren''t the nicest people, but they''d been humans. Some had joined the Skulls because nobody else would take them. But they''d been a threat to him, his family, and his community. He''d had no choice. Stacy hadn''t moved. She''d remained in a deep trance, despite everything that had happened. ¡°Stacy! Wake up!¡± Ian shouted. He nudged her gently with his mind. He was afraid he might hurt her. It was odd how he couldn''t do what his dead opponents could have done easily. Putting Stacy in a trance and getting her to follow them took finesse. Stopping a level five alien, throwing off its aim, or creating an illusion good enough to convince thirty-six people to kill themselves and each other, took a lot of strength. Ian''s two opponents had had psychic scalpels. Ian had a psychic chainsaw. That''s why he''d known he could defeat them in any kind of mind duel. Stacy woke up. She took in the surroundings. ¡°Your nose isn''t bleeding,¡± she said, looking at him strangely while she struggled to take in the surrounding carnage. ¡°What happened?¡± She checked Ian''s display. ¡°How did you get the title Skull Crusher on your display?¡± ¡°I keep telling you, my nose does not bleed all the time,¡± Ian said, ¡°and does it look like I''m crushing skulls over here? Get me out of these restraints. Then we''ll get your stuff, and look for those missing kids.¡± Chapter 13 - Caught Chapter 13 Caught Night of the Apocalypse Retirement Home Mabel wasn''t surprised to find herself in a blue room, or something like it. ¡°I''d love it if you fixed my arthritis,¡± Mabel said, ¡°but I don''t think I''d be good at killing aliens. I don''t like killing spiders even, and spiders creep me out. I''ve spent my life running a housekeeping business. As a kid, I helped Mom with her housekeeping business, then I got married and you can guess what happened with that.¡± ¡°You reproduced?¡± Beginner''s Guide said. ¡°Yep. And you have no idea how much cooking and cleaning a bunch of kids need. I raised a family and ran a housekeeping business on the side to make ends meet. Did it for over thirty years, until my arthritis made me stop... Horrible thing to do, nuking those alien missionaries in the middle of a crowded city. I liked the alien missionaries. They looked like four-foot-tall Pak-Men with skinny arms and legs coming out of them. I even have a copy of their pamphlet. I know a guy who swears the pamphlet is code for ''drink more beer'' but I can''t make any sense of it. Certain people must have seen the aliens talking to African leaders, thought they were forming an alliance with Africa.¡± ¡°Yes. So, Mabel Otero, you would cook and clean for alien monster killers? Out of the goodness of your heart? How would you protect yourself?¡± Beginner''s Guide asked. ¡°Not out of the goodness of my heart, but I charge good rates, and if I saw something, I''d go to a monster killer and say ''do your job''. Let me put it like this, Beginner''s Guide. How would you feel if a monster hunter was killed, or failed to kill a monster, because they had to deal with a filthy or vermin-infested home?¡± There was a long pause... ¡°I suppose,¡± Beginner''s Guide said. *** Six Months Post Apocalypse Skull Hideout Going up the long flights of stairs in the Skull hideout turned out to be much harder than going down them. Ian trudged up the stairs feeling hot and exhausted. Smoke filled the stairwell from the recently used guns and explosives, making it hard for him to breathe. Ian was followed by some thirty survivors. Like Ian and Stacy, they''d been taken against their will and were eager to get out. Most of them were children. The words showed up on Ian''s display You have killed 36 humans for mating rights to your sister, and other currently available females. You have gained your first title, Skull Crusher, you have won 3,000 credits and 5 stat points. I would like to give you more, but humans are not that tough. Maybe if somebody would breed tougher humans? Hint Hint. Ian sighed. *** The first thing Ian did, when Stacy freed him, was use the dead psychics'' Galactic Market Polaroid Camera to take a picture of himself standing next to their dead bodies. He put that picture on the wall beside the pictures they''d taken of themselves posing with their victims. It seemed only fair. Ian recognized a few of the victims, like Mathew Gruber, but most he didn''t. Rest in peace, fellow psychics. Sorry I couldn''t do more for you. Leaving the room, the two of them found Stacy''s weapons and armor in a storage room nearby. From there, it was a simple matter to find and free the missing children. *** ¡°Any aliens?¡± a girl behind Ian asked. ¡°No,¡± Ian answered. He heard a clack clack clack of one of BG''s overgrown cockroaches coming down the stairs. ¡°Shit. Except for that one.¡± Ian grabbed for his pistol and backed down the stairs. ¡°You are such a baby,¡± five-year-old Gabrielle Gruber said, producing a small frying pan from nowhere. She ran forward and Wham! Wham! Wham! she smashed it to death. ¡°Thank you,¡± Ian said. Gabrielle sniffed. Her frying pan vanished. A piece of hard candy appeared in her hand, she put it in her mouth. Good monster killing incentive, Ian supposed. ¡°What''s that?¡± someone asked. Ian heard a quiet whirring noise. ¡°It''s okay,¡± he said. ¡°We must be close to the surface. That''s a short-range drone.¡± Ian waved. ¡°Hi Dad.¡± When they emerged from the underground shelter, Ian and the rescued children found themselves surrounded by a crowd. Kids were scooped up by parents and caretakers. Ian and Stacy were met by their dad. Ian''s ''sort of friends'', Sam and Dex, were nearby, along with many people he''d never seen before. ¡°Thank God you''re safe,¡± Dad said. He hugged both his children. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°They all started shooting. It was insane,¡± Ian lied. ¡°When we got free, we didn''t see any aliens, just a lot of dead people.¡± ¡°We took out their patrols,¡± Dad said. ¡°They''d gotten predictable enough for us to set land mines for their trucks. Blew the bastards to hell. I was so worried about you two. Thank god you''re okay.¡± Mrs. Wilcox stood in front of the crowd. She looked calm and collected, as usual. Her attractive suit of polished silver armor reflected the late afternoon sun. ¡°It''s about time you did something about the Skulls!¡± an older man shouted. ¡°What took you so long!¡±. ¡°Let me first say, whoever has Road Warrior''s motorcycle, please return it,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°His motorcycle is useless to anyone else, and he needs it for his mail route. Though I''m happy to say I''ve never watched the Road Warrior TV series, I have been informed there are people who think tradition dictates Road Warrior must fight a duel to the death with a four-armed mutant named Zero to get his motorcycle back. He''s ten years old, so how about we let him off this time.¡± Someone shouted, ¡°Boo! Fight! Fight!¡± Mrs. Wilcox looked around and took a deep breath. ¡°On a related note, we do not tolerate people messing with our children, or bothering our patrols. A group of criminals known as The Skulls was doing just that. So, as leader of the Fortress, I took care of the situation.¡± ¡°Took care of it, how?¡± someone asked. ¡°I took care of it,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said again. ¡°I hope anyone else who wants to mess with my people in the future will consider what happened here today before they do.¡±Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°So what did happen here today?¡± someone asked. ¡°Could be a new alien,¡± Dad said. ¡°Or a toxin that built up underground and drove them all insane. Whatever it was, it couldn''t have happened to nicer people. I''m sending a team down to see if we can salvage anything useful. Anything they should be looking for?¡± ¡°Plenty of weapons,¡± Ian answered. ¡°I heard you''re fast enough to hit bullets with that cane of yours,¡± someone said to Robert, who was hanging out nearby. ¡°Well, if you start shooting, it''s not going to be your bullets I swing at. If you get my drift,¡± Robert answered. ¡°Is the Demon Tongue dead?¡± Melanie Gruber asked. She stood in front of Ian, holding her five-year-old daughter Gabrielle tightly. ¡°Demon Tongue?¡± Ian asked. ¡°Yes. The forked tongue of the devil. The two Skull boys. People like you,¡± she answered, glaring at Ian. Ian sighed. Mrs. Melanie Gruber was a ''thou shalt not suffer any witch to live'' Christian. She didn''t know about her late son, Mathew''s psychic gift and Ian sure as hell wasn''t going to tell her. ¡°They''re dead,¡± Ian said. ¡°They committed suicide.¡± ¡°Good. Satan will punish those monsters,¡± Mrs. Gruber said. ¡°Mrs. Gruber, we found your son,¡± a couple of grim-faced men told her. They led her and her daughter away. ¡°Ian, I would speak to you in private. Now.¡± Mrs. Wilcox dragged him to her personal car, a large black SUV with tinted windows. The back of the car was screened off from the driver and soundproofed, so Mrs. Wilcox and Ian could talk in private. As soon as they were alone, she took Ian''s hands in her own. ¡°Are you okay, Ian? And what did I just take credit for? I got a strange message from BG this morning saying I crushed the Skull rebellion. Then I learned you and Stacy had been kidnapped and the Red Baron saw smoke rising from this area, so I brought every available person to investigate and it looks like half the enclaves in the city did the same.¡± Ian took his hands back and told her about the shooting, and how thirty-six Skulls were dead. He left out his part in the process, though he was sure Mrs. Wilcox suspected. ¡°Good,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°I''m guessing any survivors are in hiding. They weren''t exactly popular. Oh, we found their inside guy. It was Willie, the young man who kept running off whenever you were around. Turned out Willie''s older brother owed someone money. We had a talk. They won''t be causing any more trouble.¡± Ian shuddered as images of ¡°the talk¡± went through his mind. He felt a horrible cry of grief from Mrs. Gruber as she found her dead son where Skulls had tossed him out with the garbage. She was a crazy bitch who hated Ian, but he knew she loved her children dearly. That the people who did it were dead must be of little consolation for her. He took a deep breath and pulled his mind back to himself. He had enough problems without involving himself in everyone else''s. ¡°I''m okay with you using me as bait for a trap,¡± Ian said, ¡°but please tell me you didn''t know they were planning to kidnap Stacy.¡± ¡°We were all in danger from the Skulls, myself included,¡± Mrs. Wilcox replied. ¡°I suspect they spotted Stacy when she went out to the runway to meet the Red Baron, something I warned her against.¡± ¡°That''s fair,¡± Ian replied. He took a deep breath and started coughing. ¡°It''s okay, I''m fine,¡± he said when he''d recovered. ¡°Uh Mrs. Wilcox, BG is getting strange... stranger than usual.¡± He told Mrs. Wilcox about how he got summoned to the blue room, and how BG was trying to get him to mate with his sister. ¡°I know you talk to BG. Is she losing it?¡± Mrs. Wilcox giggled. ¡°You know I''m not the jealous type, and the two of you would make such a cute couple. What does Stacy think?¡± ¡°Stacy doesn''t know, and you''d better not tell her,¡± Ian answered. ¡°Things are weird between us as it is. She seems to think I had something to do with those two psychic predators committing suicide.¡± ¡°Did you?¡± Mrs. Wilcox asked. ¡°So what''s the deal with BG?¡± Ian responded. ¡°I see Stacy talking to the Red Baron,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°Looks like you have some competition.¡± ¡°Dammit Mrs. Wilcox, I''m serious,¡± Ian said. ¡°Is BG going insane? And if she is, is that a good or bad thing?¡± ¡°BG has always been insane,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°She was programmed by aliens who all wanted different things. Some of these aliens want to study humans, others want to change, or exterminate us. One wrong move on BG''s part, and she''s programmed to turn herself off, the AI equivalent of committing suicide. I despise BG, but in many ways she''s like us, trapped on this world trying to survive.¡± Mrs. Wilcox sighed and shook her head. ¡°I don''t know why she''s fixated on you and your sister, Ian. Your galactic following might have put BG up to this, to see if you''ll do it. Or possibly BG really thinks the two of you are the best possible genetic match.¡± ¡°Yuck,¡± Ian said. ¡°The next time I speak to BG, I''ll point out twelve is a bit young for a human female to bear healthy children. I''ll suggest waiting another six years. At which point BG will, with any luck, have found another mate for Stacy. Hopefully one who isn''t an immediate family member.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Ian started coughing again. ¡°I think I inhaled too much smoke down there.¡± ¡°I''ll take you to the infirmary. They''ll give you something,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°Have you eaten?¡± ¡°No, and I won''t be hungry again for a very long time,¡± Ian said. *** Ian woke up the next morning to a dream of children playing ball in the fortress playground. After all his nightmares, this was a welcome change. He heard movement and smelled bleach and pine-sol cleaner mixed with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. It was cleaning day. A large older woman came by once a week to clean, take care of laundry, and sometimes even cook them meals and snacks.¡± Ian wandered over to the kitchen. ¡°Good morning, Ian,¡± Mabel said. She was in the eating area. She wore an oversize apron with the words ¡°Never trust a skinny cook¡± on it. Six months ago Ian hated coffee, but now he''d developed an unhealthy dependency on it. Ian helped himself to a cup. Mabel was somehow juggling dusting and mopping the floor. He noticed his footprints on the wet floor. ¡°Uh sorry,¡± he said. ¡°That''s okay, Ian,¡± the big woman said. ¡°Just don''t melt my brain. You melt my brain and nobody else is gonna come up here and clean for you guys, I guarantee it.¡± ¡°Well, because you put it that way,¡± Ian said before he realized something was off. She''d joked with him before, but not about that. He sensed the reason for this. Oh shit! He choked on his coffee. After a coughing fit, he gulped the rest of it down and pulled out his BG solar-powered cell-phone. The BG screensaver he couldn''t get rid of popped up. The screensaver was black with happy faces, and the words ¡°The Early Human Gets the Alien!¡± Ian swiped the phone to get past it. He had about twenty text messages. ¡°Are you up, Ian?¡± ¡°Is this phone on!¡± ¡°Emergency meeting!¡± ¡°Get your ass down here now!¡± Those were just the ones from Dad. Shit. ¡°Just a sec coming,¡± Ian texted back. He pulled up the latest videos. He scrolled past the stupid alien videos, stupid cat videos, and the stupid dog videos. Oh god. Sorry, Fergi. Dog videos always made him think of his late dog Fergi and that damn shape-changer fire hydrant. He kept scrolling until he found a video that said. ¡°I will not reveal the identity of the poster, nor will I take it down. Humans have the right to know how amazing Ian Anderson is!¡± BG. Ian started the video. It was Ian, handcuffed to the desk in front of the two psychic predators. The camera must have been in the ceiling. Ian could see the tops of their three heads. Ian''s fists were tightly clenched. The two older boys appeared frozen. ¡°I never thought my idiot psychic act would fool actual psychics,¡± video Ian was saying. ¡°The truth is without me our fortress would have burnt to the ground within the first month.¡± Ian turned off the phone before the video could finish. Shit shit shit! he thought. His power didn''t work on electronics, and the two psychic predators he''d killed probably didn''t know about the cameras either. The Skulls must have been using the camera to monitor their own people. Dad''s retrieval team must have found the camera footage and someone uploaded it to the BG web. ¡°Is it true?¡± Mabel asked, chopping vegetables on a cutting board with a large chef knife. ¡°No comment,¡± Ian answered. It wouldn''t do him any good to deny it at this point. Nobody would believe him. His mind kept going back to his dream about the kids playing ball in their playground. Why would he keep thinking about that? ¡°If it''s true, you did the right thing. The Skulls were animals,¡± Mabel said. There was a loud knocking at the door. ¡°Ian, you up?¡± It was Gabe. The door opened. Gabe and Stacy entered. ¡°Dad sent us to get you,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Is it true?¡± Stacy asked. Her eyes wide, she held up her cellphone. ¡°Dad tried to send Robert, but he refused,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Robert kept saying ''that guy just killed thirty-six people, and you want me to get him out of bed? I''m alive because I don''t do stuff like that.''¡± ¡°Is it true?¡± Stacy asked again. ¡°If it''s true, how long have you been hiding it?¡± ¡°Since the second week,¡± Ian said. It felt good to tell the truth. ¡°I didn''t want people to be afraid of me.¡± ¡°How much did you really make when we killed that wuffle at MonsterMart six months ago?¡± Gabe asked, helping himself to the coffee. ¡°Over twenty-one thousand,¡± Ian said. Images from the playground kept going through his mind. ¡°You suck,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Dad can''t decide whether to be angry, or impressed, so he''s going back and forth.¡± Ian walked over to a window that looked out over the grounds. What he saw made him feel like vomiting. ¡°Tell Dad the meeting''s going to have to wait. You know that Kitykity alien I was having nightmares about? It''s in the playground watching the kids.¡± Chapter 14 - Day from Hell Chapter 14 Six Months Post Apocalypse Day from Hell ¡°I was rotting in a nursing home when this all happened, but since then I''ve read everything I can find on the aliens. Those alien missionaries seemed harmless. I don''t think they had any secrets to share with us, just that strange pamphlet of theirs, which makes no sense, filled with things like ''out with void darkness forward life and free'' People swear there''s a secret code, but I''m not seeing it. None of our religious groups ever accused the aliens of blasphemy because they couldn''t figure out what they believed, and of course, our religions wanted to convert them. Who wouldn''t want to claim the first alien converts? ¡°I think the aliens'' mistake was landing in Africa. They didn''t understand human racial differences. So racists in certain governments saw the aliens talking to African leaders. They freaked out. President''s flight to Nairobi canceled at the last minute. Pope''s flight canceled at the last minute, don''t take a genius to know a lot of people were in on it. Somebody nukes the aliens, who were in the middle of Nairobi, which at the time was full of people who''d come to see the aliens. ¡°What nobody realized was God knows how many aliens in this federation were watching us, waiting to see what we''d do with these crazy aliens they''d sent. They saw the alien missionaries, and countless thousands of human dead and dying. Men, women, kids. So they went insane, and here we are. At least that''s what I think.¡± --Robert. When asked about the aliens. *** ¡°We just walked by the playground, Ian,¡± said Stacy from the kitchen. ¡°I''d have noticed any aliens.¡± Gabe snorted, sipping his coffee. Ian wasn''t the only coffee addict in the family. ¡°Come over here and look again,¡± Ian said. Mabel, Gabe, and Stacy joined him at the window. ¡°All I see is some kids playing ball,¡± said Stacy. ¡°Are you okay, Ian?¡± ¡°Kitykity''s transmitting a ''don''t notice me command'',¡± Ian said. ¡°I just blocked the command for you. Look again.¡± ¡°Oh shit,¡± Mabel said. Gabe dropped his coffee mug. Coffee splashed everywhere, nobody noticed. Kids kicked a ball around the half acre dirt lot in front of the fortress market, the area everybody called the fortress playground. The ball went off course and rolled towards a massive gray-green creature the size of an elephant, relaxing next to the playground. One of six tentacles coming out of the creature''s face reached out and flicked the ball back in the kids'' direction. The kids went back to playing as if nothing had happened. The alien''s display popped up. This is Kitykity. Kitykity thinks humans are fun to play with and very tasty. ¡°Fortunately, Kitykity didn''t come for the kids,¡± Ian said. ¡°It came for me. I think it wants a psychic duel. I asked BG about Kitykity''s weak points yesterday, and she gave me a bunch of ¡°I¡± statements. ''I can''t help you.'' ''I would be cheating if I told you that.'' etc. I hope BG was telling me Kitykity''s eyes are its weak point. If we don''t handle this correctly, a lot of people are going to die.¡± ¡°Why don''t I shoot the thing?¡± Stacy asked. ¡°I can hit it easily from here.¡± ¡°It''s fast, bulletproof, and psychic. It''ll sense your shot, block or dodge it, and then kill the kids and anyone else it can find. If we want to get out of this alive, I''m going to need your help, Stacy. You have to do exactly what I say.¡± Stacy looked at Gabe, then nodded. ¡°Need any bombs?¡± Gabe asked. ¡°I have a bomb that should kill this thing. It''ll flatten the mansion too, but I think it''ll kill Mr. Bulletproof.¡± ¡°Let''s save that for a last resort,¡± Ian said. ¡°Kitykity understands bombs. If you''re not careful, it''ll use them on you.¡± Ian grabbed his gun and armor, putting them on while he told them his plan. He suspected the armor would be useless against Kitykity though. ¡°Look, if I fail and it kills me,¡± Ian said, ¡°get to the shelter under the mansion and stay there for at least three days. Kitykity will get bored and move on. If you go after it, it will kill you. Mabel, you should go to the shelter now, and warn anyone you see, but quietly. If people panic, it could set this thing off, and it''ll start killing. Stacy, remember. Hang back and don''t do anything until I give the signal. Got it?¡± Stacy nodded. Ian headed down the flights of stairs. People seeing him coming down cleared the stairway instantly. It was clear everyone had seen the leaked video footage from yesterday. He didn''t want to face this creature, but he had no choice. If he hid, Kitykity would kill anyone it could find, then it would wait until he came out of hiding or died. Anyone seeing Ian instantly backed away as he approached, giving him plenty of space. He walked out the front door and headed right, heading for the fortress playground. A lot of parents brought their kids here to play. They thought it was safe. As he got closer to the playground, people moved to block him. ¡°I got this!¡± Sam shouted. The teenage girl ran over to him. ¡°Hey Ian, I owe you a high five, couldn''t before, but hey, my hands grew back!¡± He hadn''t talked to Sam since she''d left the infirmary what felt like a lifetime ago. The bulge from her pregnancy was beginning to show. Talking to her was the last thing he wanted to do right now, but he raised his hand reluctantly and smacked Sam''s. ¡°We found out who released that video,¡± Sam said. ¡°Your dad''s men seem to think you made Hunter and his loser patrol, namely us, seem far tougher than we actually are. They''ve all lost friends fighting monsters that never seemed to be a problem when a certain lucky Ian Anderson was around. Now they know why. Can''t blame them for being upset.¡± ¡°I didn''t want to frighten people,¡± Ian said. ¡°Also, you may have noticed in most ways I''m not that tough. I happen to have an ability that''s needed to deal with higher-level aliens.¡± ¡°You sure do. I thought you might have been doing something, but I didn''t realize how much. I put ten stat points into my psychic ability,¡± Sam said. ¡°Any advice?¡± ¡°Don''t expect too much too soon,¡± Ian said. ¡°I need to go.¡± ¡°I hate to be telling you to stay away from kids,¡± Sam said, ¡°but you''re a killing machine, Ian. How much control do you have?¡± ¡°I''m not here to bother kids, Sam,¡± Ian said. ¡°I sensed an alien that way.¡± He motioned toward the monster. ¡°I''m going to look over there to check it out, then I''ll go. Probably nothing.¡± ¡°Okay, good deal. See you, Ian,¡± she said. Ian walked away. Kitykity lay nearby, watching the kids, pretending not to notice Ian approach. It looked much bigger up close. Ian walked up to the alien, stopping three feet from the creature''s head. Kitykity''s four green eyes didn''t even look his way. Its stubby tail flicked back and forth, its claws dug casually into the hard ground. Gathering his psychic strength, Ian let out a loud mental shout, ¡°Bad Kitykity! My humans! Go away!¡± This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Kitykity yawned and stood up, pulling itself to its full eight feet of height. ¡°RRRRRRRROOOOOWWWWRRR! MINE!¡± Kitykity let out a deafening yowl that was as loud mentally as it was physically. The yowl started with Kitykity on its hind legs, towering over Ian, and ending with Kitykity''s face inches from Ian''s. Only the knowledge that if he turned to run, he was dead stopped Ian from doing just that. At least now people noticed the creature. Screams and gunfire. Kids ran for their lives. Bullets bounced off Kitykity''s gray-green hide like rain. A few bullets ricocheted and hit Ian''s helmet. It seemed his armor was some use, after all. Bullets didn''t bother Kitykity. It''d come for Ian, and it didn''t even flinch. In a long detached moment, Ian noticed Kitykity''s bright green eyes had transparent eyelids, and its gray-green skin consisted of millions of tiny interlocking plates somehow linked together. He put his arms together in a T shape for the gunners, making the universal sign for time out. Once the shooting stopped, Ian turned around and walked away, doing his best to look calm. Looking calm would be easier if he wasn''t shaking so badly. Kitykity wouldn''t kill him, yet. The creature was too curious. Ian hoped. Kitykity followed him silently, its stubby tail still twitching. Ian sat down on a nearby bench... still alive. The kids had left the yard, along with most of the adults. That was some consolation. Stacy watched from the mansion''s front entrance, all according to plan. Kitykity made a big show of yawning, lying down again, closing its eyes, and pretending to go to sleep. You''re not fooling anyone, Ian thought. He jabbed Kitykity psychically, trying to get into its mind. Kitykity blocked. It was stronger than the dragon he''d stopped over a week ago, and an order of magnitude stronger than the two psychics he''d killed the day before. Kitykity retaliated, attempting to do the same to Ian. Kitykity was fighting him for dominance. It wanted to show Ian how much stronger it was, but Ian''s mindshield kept it out... So far. They sparred, exchanging jabs and blocks, each trying to get the upper hand. Kitykity was strong, but not as strong as Ian feared. Their sparring increased in speed and intensity. Kitykity pretended to wake up, yawning again, and opening its eyes. It opened its outer eyelid first, then its two transparent inner eyelids, pretending to leave itself open and vulnerable. Ian felt Stacy''s tension increase. She''d crept up on them, ignoring his instructions to stay back. She was only twenty feet away now, hiding behind a nearby monsterfruit tree. Ian felt her going for it, falling into the monster''s trap. Stacy was fast. Kitykity was faster. ¡°Don''t!¡± Ian shouted. Too late. One of Kitykity''s tentacles blurred, lashing out like a whip. Stacy''s gun flew away, along with her right hand and wrist. She collapsed in a pool of blood. ¡°No!¡± Their sparring turned into an all out battle, as Ian fought desperately to take down Kitykity before his sister died from her injuries. Blood poured from Ian''s nose, running over his mouth and down his chin. He didn''t care. He pushed deeper into Kitykity''s mind. Looking out through its eyes, he saw a frightened boy with a bloody nose. Him. The frightened boy lowered his arm and said, ¡°Now.¡± He forced Kitykity to hold its eyes open, preventing it from moving as Mabel rushed forward. Mabel''s face was pale as death. Blood covered her shaking hands. Stacy''s blood. Mabel had ignored his request to stay in the shelter because she wanted to help. She was terrified, but forced herself forward because she was the only one close enough. She stabbed one of Kitykity''s four eyes with her long chef knife. Ian felt the knife enter the eye they shared and go into their brain. That was all Ian felt for a while... *** Ian woke up reluctantly because he knew what he was waking up to. The problem with being psychic is there were things the world couldn''t hide from you. The alien''s tentacle had gone through Stacy''s wrist, chest, and neck, she''d bled to death in seconds. Ian felt Dad crying. He wished Kitykity had killed him instead of his sister. He pulled up his display. You helped kill Kitykity, a class six alien! You are a mighty warrior! You have won 120,000 credits, thirty-six stat points, and gained the respect of your galactic following. You have won a suit of Kitykity skin armor. Much better than that galactic market shit. Your new armor is self-repairing and will grow and change as you do. It will allow you to see in the dark and be part of your inventory until you die. ¡°Fuck you BG!¡± Ian shouted. ¡°I just want my sister back!¡± But there was no blue room, and no answer from BG. Gabe was the first person to notice Ian''s return to consciousness. He entered Ian''s room in the infirmary. ¡°There is still hope, Ian,¡± Gabe said quietly. ¡°But I may need your help.¡± ¡°Tell me what you need,¡± Ian said. Gabe explained. *** Mrs. Wilcox sent him a long text. ¡°Ian, this text is not a substitute for a personal meeting. Please don''t think it is. Words can''t express my sorrow at your sister''s death. Stacy is a hero. She died defending the fortress. There is no honor I can bestow that is worthy of her. We are waiting for you to get better before we give her a proper funeral. Road Warrior''s bike has been returned in better shape than before it was stolen, and every one of the outlying city enclaves has expressed a desire to join our fortress and pay ten percent of their total earnings in tax. The only sticking point is they all want a certain Ian Anderson to patrol their territory. After what happened to us, they feel vulnerable, and they should. I told them you will join different patrols around the city, and, of course, you are uniquely qualified to collect the taxes. I have also created a two-man security detail whose sole purpose is to protect you, so you can protect us. Please be nice to them.¡± Ian threw his phone as hard as he could against the wall. He sensed the security detail waiting outside his room. When he was ready to leave, he put them to sleep and left the infirmary. *** ¡°I don''t like your uncle,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°He left me to die. He could have pulled me to safety, but he just left. I had to cut myself free, and then I used the credits I made to buy a regen shot. I still have holes in me. See.¡± Crazy Steve raised up his shirt. The old man was chewing his gum furiously. At least Ian hoped it was gum. The old guy seemed to be trying to clean up his act, which was why Ian was talking to him. ¡°Those are big holes,¡± Ian said, looking at the two holes in Crazy Steve''s lower belly that went through to the other side. ¡°Look, Steve. My uncle said he thought you were dead, he couldn''t do anything, and he''s sorry. I can''t help you with that, but I can offer you a high-paying job if you''re interested. I need a man who can handle a bit of danger and who doesn''t have a family who''ll miss him if he dies. No offense intended.¡± ¡°What kind of job?¡± Steve asked. ¡°And what kind of pay? Like I tell the ladies. I''m may be easy, but I ain''t cheap.¡± He let out a cackling laugh. ¡°Sure. Well, Mabel, the cleaning lady, made over thirty thousand credits for stabbing Kitykity in the eye while I held it with my mind powers. There are at least five of those creatures headed our way, so I can guarantee you''ll get at least one hundred thousand credits for helping me. But if you''re not interested, no problem. I''ll go ask someone else,¡± Ian said. ¡°Gleep!¡± Crazy Steve swallowed whatever he was chewing on. ¡°Okay, Boss. I''m in. Tell me what you want.¡± ¡°Get your stuff, Steve, and meet me at the fortress entrance. We''re leaving, and we won''t be back for a while.¡± Ian looked around his home in the fortress. It was sad how little there was that he wanted to take with him. Some clothes, personal things, not much else. Ian put on his Kitykity armor. It covered everything while leaving breathing holes for his nose and mouth. It had a transparent glass-like covering for his eyes that didn''t fog up like his glasses might have. His new armor felt like a second skin, way better than the armor Dad had thrown together for him. Ian threw his few possessions in a bag and left to meet up with Steve. He must look tough in his new armor. People looked twice when he went by and moved out of his way. He didn''t care. He felt numb and just wanted to kill something. ¡°What the hell are you doing, Ian?¡± Dad asked. He was with Crazy Steve at the entrance. Trying to avoid meeting you, Ian thought. Anger and grief came off Dad in waves. It made Ian sick. ¡°I know what you''re thinking, Dad,¡± he said. ¡°And you''re right. It''s my fault Stacy''s dead. I should have realized she wouldn''t understand how fast Kitykity was, and how sneaky.¡± ¡°You lied to us for months, Ian! God, if you''d just told me what you were doing!¡± Dad shouted. Tears ran down his face. ¡°Of all the people here who could have backed you up against that creature, you had to choose your kid sister!¡± ¡°You''re right, and I''m so fucking sorry,¡± Ian said. He wanted to cry, but for some reason, he couldn''t. ¡°I''m leaving. There are more of them coming, and they aren''t going to die by themselves.¡± ¡°You''re not using our vehicles,¡± Dad responded. ¡°Way ahead of you, Dad,¡± Ian said, pulling up the galactic market. He picked out a jeep, the fastest all-terrain vehicle he could find. He added the largest engine, bulletproof windows, heavily armored body, and a large machine gun on the roof. After checking the possible colors, he said, ¡°hell with it¡± and picked a bright red that he liked. Two hundred thousand credits exchanged hands, and a bright red jeep appeared next to him. ¡°Can you even drive that thing?¡± Dad asked. ¡°Hey Steve, can you drive?¡± Ian asked. ¡°Can I drive? Can I drive? I trained to drive NASCAR race cars!¡± Steve said. ¡°Really?¡± Ian asked. Steve seemed to believe it. ¡°What, you don''t believe me?¡± Steve said. ¡°No. Just surprised,¡± Ian said. ¡°How about you NASCAR our asses out of here.¡± ¡°If you leave the fortress, don''t come back,¡± Dad said. ¡°That goes for you too, Steve.¡± Steve jumped into the driver''s seat and started the engine. ¡°Buckle up, Ian. I may be a little rusty.¡± He waited for Ian to take the passenger''s seat and put on his seat belt before flooring the gas pedal. ¡°I''ll take good care of him, Carl!¡± Steve shouted. Dad jumped out of their way at the last second. They were off. Ian pointed in the direction the five Kitykity were coming from. ¡°That way,¡± he said. Chapter 15 - Zen and the Art of Monster Hunting Chapter 15 Zen and the Art of Monster Hunting Seven Months Post Apocalypse World Population 85,000,000 ¡°She''s not really dead,¡± Ian said over the crackling sound of the campfire. ¡°Stacy I mean.¡± He wasn''t sure why he said this. He was tired, and about to sack out in the back of the jeep. A bitter December wind blew through their small camp in the desert. The wind would shift sometimes and blow smoke from their campfire into Ian''s face. Crazy Steve took a long drag from his cigarette, the end glowing in the darkness. The old man rolled his own cigarettes, smoking them one after another. Ian didn''t complain; he was just glad Crazy Steve wasn''t doing anything worse. ¡°I saw Stacy''s body, Ian,¡± the old man responded, voice hoarse from cigarette smoke. ¡°I know dead when I see it. Your sister''s dead. A lot of people liked her. Stacy Kid Barbie, the little girl who could shoot the balls off a gnat. I''m sorry she''s dead, Ian. I miss her too.¡± ¡°She''s dead, but she''s not dead dead,¡± Ian tried to explain. ¡°She died in the game, and me and my brother, we''re bringing her back.¡± Crazy Steve shook his head. ¡°I played Dungeons and Dragons as a kid, so I know what you''re talking about. Your brother''s a wizard, but that resurrection-necromancy-bring-back-the-dead-shit is serious magic.¡± ¡°I know,¡± Ian said. Ian got up, leaving the warmth of the fire. He returned to the jeep and shivered until his body heat warmed his blankets. Unable to sleep he stared out at the stars through the jeep''s rear window. Without the ambient light from the human cities, the sky was much brighter. Amazing how stars helped put his problems in perspective. Humans might get wiped out, but the stars would remain. He had no idea why he''d brought up the subject. Maybe because it was all he thought about. Two things kept him going: the thought of bringing his sister back, and killing as many of those fucking aliens as he could. Curious, he pulled up his display and looked at his Stat Character sheet. Name Lord Ian Mind Master Sex Male Age 14 Physical Attributes 3.3 With 10 being an Olympic athlete, and 1 being an invalid in a wheelchair, you are 3.3. Mental Attributes 7.8 With 10 being a super genius, and 1 being severely retarded, you are 7.8 Status among peers Low If your peers hadn''t been eaten, they would still consider you a nerd and spasticle. Spasticle is a human slang word that means an uncoordinated clumsy person. Some irrational and misguided humans consider you dangerous because you killed people, and assisted in killing some mildly dangerous aliens. I assure them any normal human could do the same, or better. Claims to fame. If Coach Benson hadn''t been eaten, he would still consider you the worst player to ever try out for his little league baseball team in the fifty years he coached baseball. Special abilities Psychic. Intermediate, level 4, specializing in aliens. Any other Intermediate level 4 psychic who specializes in aliens would be doing far better than you. Ian sighed. Great. *** Whenever Ian and Crazy Steve spotted lower level aliens like the giant cockroaches, ¡°crunchies,¡± or pterodactyl flying things, ¡°flappys,¡± or even the occasional wuffle, they killed them, running them over, burning them, or shooting them with the jeep''s machine gun. Between their teamwork and their armored jeep, low level aliens were no longer a problem. ¡°Okay Steve, you might have noticed we''ve hit a bit of a snag,¡± Ian said over breakfast. ¡°The first two Kitykity we killed were easy.¡± Crazy Steve shoved a Kityfruit in his mouth, and half chewed, half swallowed it whole. Kityfruit were about all he ate these days. ¡°I don''t know what you mean by easy,¡± he said through a mouthful of fruit. ¡°They almost killed us. Look what the first one did to the jeep. I almost crapped in my pants!¡± ¡°We''re fine. That first Kitykity did its ''I''m a poor wounded Kitykity'' act, to lure us into the desert. I figured it might double back and hit us from behind. I was right.¡± ¡°Wait, you knew it would double back,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°Why didn''t you say anything?¡±If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. So it wouldn''t read your mind. Dumb-ass, Ian thought. ¡°The point is, when it doubled back and tried to take us from behind, I used my gift to paralyze it, and you shot it in the eye with the jeep''s machine gun. Go team.¡± ¡°It tore the shit out of our jeep!¡± Crazy Steve said, motioning to where four claws had sliced through the left side of Ian''s armored jeep like so much butter. ¡°Jeep''s fine,¡± Ian said. ¡°That''s why we have Monster tape.¡± If Ian had paralyzed it even a second later, they''d both be dead, but he figured Crazy Steve didn''t need to know that. ¡°The second Kitykity was stalking some other humans,¡± Ian continued. ¡°and because it was distracted, I was able to get us close enough to paralyze the Kitykity so you could kill it.¡± ¡°What do you mean, you snuck up on the thing? I was driving.¡± ¡°The other three won''t let me get near them,¡± Ian said. ¡°They run off when I approach, and I can''t get them to chase us. I was really hoping we''d have killed the damn things by now.¡± ¡°You know, I used to be a Zen master,¡± Crazy Steve said. Ian made a face and put his head in his hands. ¡°What, you don''t believe me?¡± ¡°I was hoping you had some ideas from when you used to serve in the special forces,¡± Ian responded. ¡°No no, when I was a Zen master, I learned to ignore the things I couldn''t control, and focus my energy on the things I could. We can''t do anything about those three Kitykity, but we can focus our energy on humans we can help, and the aliens we can kill.¡± ¡°That actually makes sense,¡± Ian said. ¡°The Kitykity will be coming for us. I''ve helped kill three of their kind, so it''s personal, but we can''t do anything about them until they do. In the meantime, I''m worried about those two kids hiding in that underground bomb shelter. They''re running low on food and water. We keep pounding on that manhole hatch doorway of theirs, and leaving them Kityfruit. I know they can hear us, but they''re too scared to talk to us, let alone let us in.¡± ¡°You sure it''s just the two of them?¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°They got any parents?¡± ¡°Their parents got eaten,¡± Ian said. ¡°So let''s pick up some Kityfruit, since everyone likes that shit, then we''ll drop by the shelter and try to get the kids to come out and talk.¡± ¡°Kityfruit is the food of the gods,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°Everyone who tries Kityfruit loves it, except for you.¡± He started loading the jeep with their supplies. They even had a small collapsible table Ian had bought from galactic market camp supplies. ¡°Everyone''s crazy. Kityfruit tastes like shit,¡± Ian said. The truth was Ian couldn''t eat one without remembering what he''d done, and who had died to get him to this point, and that made him want to vomit. The first Kityfruit tree Ian had helped create was in the middle of the Fortress, over 100 miles away. And Ian''s dad had kicked them out of the fortress. The third Kityfruit tree he''d help create was near the humans that Kitykity had been hunting. Ian had no doubt that the small community had picked that tree clean. This left them the second Kityfruit tree, in a remote part of the desert. This was where they''d been getting their Kityfruit. Also only ten miles from the kids'' bomb shelter. At the Kityfruit tree that afternoon, Ian hung back in the warm jeep and let Crazy Steve pick the fruit. Ian knew the old guy would be happy to do the work since he''d eat most of them himself. Kityfruit started out looking like a glowing green cherry, but if left on the tree, quickly ripened into what looked like a glowing violet plum. They had no pits or seeds, making it easy for Crazy Steve to continually shove them into his mouth, something he tended to do whenever he wasn''t smoking. It was strange to think that three weeks ago this tree had been a catlike alien the size of a small elephant. One that had come close to killing them both. Ian had made a total of 85 stat points from the three Kitykity he''d helped kill. He''d put the stat points into his skill tree, focusing exclusively on Alien Paralysis and Mind Kill. The latter was for the future when he would hopefully be able to kill aliens with his mind. Though now he wondered if Alien Illusion might help him get closer to the damn things. There was no question he was getting stronger. He''d barely defeated the first Kitykity he''d mind dueled a month ago back at the fortress. The second and third had been easier, and he was gaining confidence in his abilities. The three remaining Kitykity were spread out over a mile away, well out of psychic attack range, but he could feel them stalking him. He couldn''t read their minds any more than they could read his, but no question they were planning something. *** ¡°Don''t see too many of them anymore. Odd to see two of them in the open like that,¡± Crazy Steve said, studying the two aliens. ¡°I agree,¡± Ian said, looking through his binoculars. The two adult wuffles dragged themselves through the desert with their many tentacles. They were emitting a huge amount of psychic energy. Crazy Steve didn''t notice anything, but for Ian, it felt like two sperm whales screaming. He''d sensed these psychic predators long before they came into view. They weren''t as big as the one in MonsterMart Ian had helped kill seven months ago. Both were only ten feet high and fifty feet long. These icky green glowing tentacled monsters should be holed up in a warm cave or a building someplace. Instead, they dragged themselves in the general direction of the kids'' hidden bomb shelter. Ian wasn''t sure if they''d hurt the kids, but had no intention of finding out. He wondered what could have driven the wuffles out into the cold like this. ¡°We''d better kill them,¡± Ian said. ¡°No telling how much damage they''ll do if we don''t. You still got that flamethrower?¡± Crazy Steve nodded. ¡°We''re running low on sunlight,¡± he said, tapping the jeep''s sun gauge with his index finger. The sun gauge looked like a gas gauge, but had a picture of the sun on it. It was almost empty. They''d have to stop the jeep soon to let it collect sunlight. The jeep had no solar collectors and seemed to work through strange alien logic. They could drive for about an hour, but then had to stop for an hour to recharge. The jeep could somehow collect sunlight on cloudy days, indoors, or even at night. ¡°We''re almost at the kids'' bomb shelter,¡± Ian said. ¡°Let''s kill those things, and pay the kids a visit.¡± They''d visited the shelter twice in the past three weeks. The two inhabitants refused to let them in or talk to them. But both times they''d visited, Ian had left a small box of kityfruit at the entrance. On their second visit the first box of Kityfruit was gone, and in its place they''d found a piece of paper under a rock, with Thank You written on it in crayon. ¡°You''re the boss,¡± Crazy Steve said, turning the jeep and driving towards the two aliens. Thanks to Ian''s psychic gift, a monster that had been terrifying several months ago wasn''t even a serious threat. The wuffles grew bigger as the jeep got closer, but with Ian blocking their psychic attack they were mostly harmless. Ian reached out mentally, wondering what the three Kitykity were up to. He couldn''t feel them. That shouldn''t be possible unless... ¡°Turn around and floor it,¡± Ian said. ¡°What? What''s the problem?¡± Crazy Steve asked. ¡°Turn around and floor it now!¡± Ian shouted. Crazy Steve tossed his cigarette out the window, then turned the jeep around and accelerated, not understanding. Two Kitykity jumped over the first wuffle. With thunderous roars, they charged. The third Kitykity peeked out from behind the second wuffle. A small boulder next to it rose in the air and flew towards the jeep. Telekinesis too. Really? You suck BG! Ian thought. Crazy Steve screamed and tried to force more speed out of the jeep. They were already bouncing through the desert, doing over eighty. Crazy Steve swerved, almost tipping them over. The boulder crashed a few feet to their left. Kitykity-one charged the jeep. Ian blocked and countered its psychic attack. Paralyzed, Kitykity-one fell back. ¡°Keep us away from those flying boulders!¡± Ian shouted. ¡°Let me worry about the other two!¡± Crazy Steve frantically swerved again. A second boulder hit the ground nearby. Kitykity-two charged. Same thing happened, Ian blocked and countered, paralyzing Kitykity-two in time for Kitykity-one to recover and charge their jeep a second time. Kitykity, it seemed, could run well over one hundred miles an hour. As long as Ian could stop the two Kitykity from tearing their jeep apart, and Crazy Steve could avoid the thrown boulders, they''d be okay. But Ian was getting tired, his nose was already bleeding, and their jeep was almost out of sunlight. If they stopped, they''d be torn to shreds or crushed by boulders. ¡°We can hide in the bomb shelter!¡± Crazy Steve shouted. ¡°You need to get the kids to let us in!¡± Ian countered and blocked again. He was weakening. He reached out mentally to the kids. ¡°Let us in! You know us! If you don''t let us in we''re dead!¡± The older of the two children was a girl, maybe ten years old. Ian felt her make a desperate decision. The bomb shelter was at the end of one of the many dirt roads going through this part of the desert. It was near a rundown abandoned house that had been off-grid back when there was a grid to be on. Crazy Steve pulled up to the underground shelter in time to see the heavy manhole-cover-like steel hatch open a crack and someone peek out from underneath. The two Kitykity seeing them about to get away charged. Ian blocked them, and countered, barely. A diamond tipped Kitykity tentacle sliced through the passenger window, missing his head by inches. Crazy Steve grabbed Ian and dragged him from the jeep. A boulder came crashing down where they''d been a second before. They flung themselves through the hatch, just missing the girl, dropping down a twenty-foot hole, barely slowing themselves on the iron rungs of the ladder. They crashed on the cement floor, nearly hitting the second child. A little boy, maybe six, who''d been looking anxiously up at them. The girl slammed the hatch shut and locked it. There was a thunderous roar. The whole bomb shelter shook as the three Kitykity surrounded the hatch and tried to force their way inside. The girl climbed back down the ladder to join them on the shelter floor. Chapter 16 - A Christmas Miracle Chapter 16 A Christmas Miracle Seven Months Post Apocalypse Faith, Ian sensed the girl''s name. Their ten-year-old rescuer''s name was Faith. The little six-year-old boy was Evan. Ian dragged himself painfully to his feet. There was an iron spike being pounded through his head. He squeezed his nose and tipped his head back, but his nose kept bleeding. The underground bomb shelter was one large room made of concrete. A combination of candles and floating alien lights saved the room from total darkness. The inhabitants had tried to make the place look nice, putting pictures and at least one wooden cross on walls that weren''t covered by shelves. A small artificial Christmas tree sat in the center of the shelter, decorated with tinsel and a colored paper chain. A nativity scene sat beneath it. One of the childish drawings on the wall suggested that this had once been a family of five. Ian tried not to think about what happened to the other three. Four inches of Kitykity tentacle lay on the floor next to him, cut off when Faith had slammed the hatch door on it, showing how close their escape had been. The wall on the far side of the shelter held shelves with supplies, including a couple of large, mostly empty, water containers. A covered bucket sat next to the shelves, no doubt what passed for their restroom. ¡°Did you bring more of that fruit?¡± the boy Evan asked in a shy, quiet voice. ¡°Yes, but it''s in the jeep,¡± Ian said, still pinching his nose and keeping his head back. ¡°Sorry.¡± Ian felt the three Kitykity watching the shelter hatch the way cats might watch an inhabited mouse hole. They weren''t leaving anytime soon. Crazy Steve groaned and slowly sat up. He reached into his pockets and pulled out three smushed Kityfruit. ¡°All I got, kids,¡± he said, handing the two least smushed fruit to the boy, then stuffing the third into his mouth. ¡°You can have mine,¡± Faith said to Evan. ¡°I don''t like them that much.¡± It was obvious to Ian she was lying. ¡°Thank you for rescuing us,¡± Ian said. ¡°You spoke to us, in our minds, from outside. That''s how I knew you were in trouble,¡± Faith said. ¡°How did you do that?¡± ¡°When all this started, and I was in the blue room, I asked BG to make me a psychic,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''ve been using my gift to hunt those creatures you saw. Unfortunately, three of them ganged up on us. We barely escaped with our lives, thanks to you two.¡± ¡°One of those things killed our parents and big sister,¡± Faith said. ¡°Two months ago, Mom and Dad left for supplies. We thought they returned when we heard Mom''s secret knock. Chloe opened the hatch. The monster yanked her out with its tentacles. It couldn''t fit through the hatch or it would have gotten us too.¡± Evan started crying. ¡°Why would God do this to us?¡± Faith went to comfort him. Ian had definite ideas about the monstrous god or gods who let things like this happen to good people, but felt it best to keep silent on that subject. ¡°This may be small consolation, but I helped killed that one,¡± Ian said. Soon, they all sat around the shelter dinner table. After a quick grace, they were eating stale candy bars, and Ian and Crazy Steve were drinking equally stale instant coffee while the kids drank water. Ian wasn''t crazy about the stale chocolate or the coffee, but he knew Faith had been saving the chocolate for a special occasion, and the kids were almost out of propane for boiling water. Together with Crazy Steve, Ian told the two kids how he''d learned to use his power, how he and other survivors had built a fortress in the center of Cirsium City. He told them he''d sensed the Kitykity that had killed their parents and sister, but had been unable to stop it from sneaking into the fortress. How he''d mind-dueled it and Mabel had killed it, but he hadn''t been able to stop it from killing his sister. For a long minute, they looked at each other. ¡°So what do we do now?¡± Crazy Steve asked. He pulled out his tobacco pouch and started rolling a cigarette. ¡°We can''t leave,¡± Ian said. ¡°They''re out there waiting. Anyone who pokes a head out of that hatch is dead. The two wuffles took off at least. They won''t be a problem.¡± ¡°We can leave eventually, right?¡± Crazy Steve asked. ¡°You talk about how they get bored quick. Maybe they''ll take off and badger someone else.¡± Ian nodded. ¡°We pissed them off a bit, so I expect we''re stuck here at least a week.¡± ¡°You can stay for Christmas!¡± Evan said. ¡°In two days Santa Claus is going to come through the shelter air vent, and he''s going to bring lots of presents.¡± ¡°Santa Claus is a pretty amazing guy,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°You know I used to work as a Santa Claus?¡± ¡°You are not Santa Claus,¡± Evan said. ¡°I''m not that Santa Claus, but I was his assistant,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°I stood on street corners ringing a bell.¡± Faith smiled sadly at Ian. ¡°We don''t have much,¡± she said quietly, so Evan wouldn''t hear, ¡°but we''d love to have you.¡± ¡°We''re honored. Thank you,¡± Ian said. Ian listened to Evan and Crazy Steve chatter, lost in thought. He''d been lying. If it was just the other three humans hiding in the shelter, the Kitykity would get bored and move on in a few days. But because he was down here, the Kitykity would wait at the entrance for years if they had to. Ian was the threat and as long as he was here, they weren''t going anywhere. Ian spent the long night lost in thought. In the back of his mind he hatched a desperate plan. He got up before the other three. Grabbing a piece of paper and pencil, he went to the table and wrote a note. I lied to you yesterday. They will never leave as long as I''m here. I''m going up to do battle, but the odds don''t look good. I''m sorry we couldn''t have met under better circumstances.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I''m leaving my credits on the table. If I don''t make it back, they''re yours. If I don''t make it back, the Kitykity will leave. Wait one week to be sure. Steve''s a good man, he''ll get you kids to safety. Merry Christmas Ian put his credits on the table. It was surprising how little space some 231,863.00 credits took. Just a small pile of glowing coins. He went up the ladder, shaking so badly from fear he almost lost his footing. It took him a few minutes to figure out the locking mechanism for the hatch. Before opening the hatch, Ian pounded on it for about a minute. Crazy Steve and the two children heard Ian fighting with the hatch and woke up. The hatch opened with a loud squeak. There were shouts from the shelter. He hoped they wouldn''t do anything stupid. Kitykity-one charged him with a loud roar. Ian tried to counter with his gift, and paralyze it. He failed. He was still weak from the day before. A paw came out of nowhere and sent him flying. He slammed into what remained of the jeep. His armor kept him alive, but he felt something break. Kitykity-two charged him. Ian didn''t even try to counter. Tentacles picked him up and threw him over twenty feet in the air. A second paw smacked him, sending him flying across the desert. He fought to remain conscious. The next thing he knew, Kitykity-two had him pinned, its front right foot on his chest pushing him into the sand, claws digging into him, pushing through his armor and into his chest. He looked up, fighting to breathe, and saw the stuff of nightmares. Three Kitykity, with their twelve angry green eyes, eighteen tentacles, and three snarling mouths, looked down at him. He was the mouse, and they were pissed off cats about to tear him apart and eat him. Now! This was his one and only chance. He reached down for reserves he wasn''t sure were there. Rraaaa! He screamed, mentally hitting the three Kitykity with everything he had. His counter succeeded. The three were paralyzed, for a minute if he was lucky. You just couldn''t resist, could you? He thought. They could have killed him from a distance, but they enjoyed playing with their food too much. ¡°I can''t hold them long! You need to kill them now!¡± He couldn''t breathe enough to speak, so he let out a desperate mental shout. He heard shots from the shelter entrance. A bullet bounced off Kitykity-one''s eyelids. ¡°Come on Evan, you can do it!¡± Crazy Steve shouted. A blur of what looked like a little boy ran up to Kitykity-one, and stabbed its eye with a large kitchen knife, sliding it sideways underneath the Kitykity''s multiple eyelids and up into its brain. The boy-shaped blur pulled out the knife and kept moving. Ian felt Kitykity-one vanish, then Kitykity-three, Kitykity-two. He was free; he felt like he was floating. This wasn''t so bad, he tried to say, but realized he couldn''t speak or move. This keeps happening to me, was his last thought before losing consciousness. *** ¡°Deck the halls with lots of holly, falalalala-lalalala,¡± Ian woke up to Christmas carols being sung off-key. He went back to sleep again. *** Later... ¡°Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!¡± It was Crazy Steve. ¡°You are not the real Santa Claus,¡± Evan said indignantly. ¡°I told you I work for the guy,¡± Crazy Steve said, ¡°but if you don''t want these presents, I''ll go back to Santa and tell him you don''t want them.¡± ¡°Nooo!¡± Evan shouted. Ian opened his eyes. ¡°Oh my god.¡± He itched like crazy where rejen boosters were healing his injuries; he also had a nasty headache, and he was starving. Crazy Steve had somehow acquired a Santa Claus outfit, complete with red hat, black belt and black boots. He carried a huge sack. The entire shelter looked like a Christmas bomb had gone off inside. Flashing Christmas lights were everywhere, Christmas stockings hung next to what looked like a five-foot-high glowing green gingerbread house, and some kind of music box played Christmas carols. Ian sat up slowly. ¡°Is it Christmas?¡± ¡°You''re awake!¡± Faith ran up to Ian and hit him surprisingly hard. ¡°Why didn''t you tell us you were going out there?¡± ¡°If I''d told you guys, those creatures would have read your minds and my plan would have failed,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''d say things went pretty well, considering I had no idea what I was doing. Did I wake up in time for Christmas?¡± ¡°No, it''s a day after Christmas. We''ve been waiting for you to wake up!¡± Faith slugged him again. ¡°I told you Ian would be fine,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°He passes out, but he always wakes up again. Merry-day-after-Christmas! Who wants presents?¡± Evan let out an excited cheer. ¡°We bought a bunch of Christmas stuff with the credits we got from killing those monsters,¡± Faith said, ¡°and we gorged ourselves on Kityfruit from our three new Kityfruit trees. Steve says you hate Kityfruit. How can you hate Kityfruit?¡± ¡°I hope you got other things to eat. I''m starving,¡± Ian said. ¡°We have a big Christmas dinner planned,¡± Faith said. ¡°We bought a turkey from the galactic market. It looks strange though, it''s got way too many wings on it.¡± ¡°Wings are the best part of a turkey,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°Don''t worry, I used to be a French chef. We''re going to deep fry this thing.¡± *** ¡°Well,¡± Ian said, eating one of the turkey wings at dinner. ¡°It doesn''t taste like turkey, chicken, pork, beef, fish, or tofu, but it''s not bad. It tastes like monster turkey. I think that''s the best way to describe it. Alien monster turkey.¡± Faith was right. Their galactic market turkey had way too many wings on it. Also, the stuffing tasted different, and Ian was pretty sure cranberries weren''t supposed to be green and sweet potatoes weren''t supposed to glow. But as a late after-almost-being-killed-by-aliens Christmas dinner, it was nothing short of fantastic. The four of them talked, stuffed themselves, and tried to forget their problems for a while. Later that evening, they opened presents. Ian got a lucky rabbit''s foot, a used Amazing Man action figure, and a big bag of fresh roasted coffee. The two kids got more toys than they knew what to do with, courtesy of ¡°Santa Claus¡±. ¡°You need that more than I do,¡± Faith said, about the lucky rabbit''s foot. ¡°I''ll treasure it,¡± Ian said. ¡°Did Evan kill the three Kitykity?¡± ¡°Evan told BG he wanted to be the cartoon Road Runner,¡± Faith said. ¡°BG said she couldn''t make him a lower animal, but she could make him really fast, so she did. He can only do it for ten seconds, then he gets tired. I asked BG for super-strength.¡± ¡°I can''t thank you enough for your help,¡± Ian said, ¡°and Merry Christmas.¡± *** ¡°The Fortress isn''t perfect,¡± Ian said, ¡°but it''s safer than your bomb shelter. There are lots of kids for you to play with, and there''s a school where they''ll teach you to defend yourselves.¡± They''d talked about this. The two kids didn''t have any living relatives nearby or friends they could move in with. And staying in the bomb shelter was out of the question. So they''d decided the Fortress was the best option. *** They were parked near the fortress entrance. The long drive in the cold January weather was a welcome change from the stifling bomb shelter. The jeep had been surprisingly easy to fix. With Faith''s help, they''d removed the boulder, and 20,000 credits-to-the-galactic-market later, the jeep''s body had been replaced, and it looked and ran like new. ¡°Come with us,¡± Faith pleaded. Faith and Evan looked scared. Ian couldn''t blame them. He''d delayed this parting as long as he could. The four of them had stayed in the bomb shelter until after New Year, but Ian didn''t see any better options. ¡°I can''t come with you,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''m banned from the fortress, and other kids out here need my help. But you''ll be okay. Me and Steve will check up on you the first chance we get. I''m giving you guys two letters, one is for my dad, Carl Anderson, the other is for Mrs. Wilcox. She runs the place. I told them you''re good kids and you saved my life. They''ll make sure you''re taken care of.¡± He handed them two letters and a small package. ¡°The package is for my brother, Gabe. It''s a late Christmas present. I know you''ll make sure he gets it.¡± On the package, Ian had written Funding for you know what, Gabe. Merry Christmas. The two children looked small and frightened as they approached the entrance and spoke to guards. Ian wished he could go in with them, but considering Dad had banned him from the fortress, and Mrs. Wilcox might not let him leave, it would be best if he didn''t. He turned to Crazy Steve and handed him some alien coins. ¡°I promised you 100,000 credits for helping me out, and you went above and beyond. Think of the extra as a Christmas bonus.¡± ¡°Wow. You didn''t have to do that,¡± Crazy Steve said. He seemed at a loss for words. ¡°I suppose you want to take off,¡± Ian said. ¡°They''ll probably let you back into the fortress, since Dad''s mostly mad at me, or I could take you somewhere else.¡± ¡°I can''t do that,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°You wouldn''t last a day without me. Besides, we need to get you a girlfriend.¡± He started up the jeep. ¡°No time for that. We got monsters to kill. Besides, who''d you have in mind?¡± ¡°The girl we met a few weeks ago, The Ice Princess.¡± ¡°You mean Angie, the girl who shoots ice crystals with her hands?¡± Ian asked. ¡°She seemed nice enough, but her parents are scared of me.¡± ¡°We can work on the parents,¡± Crazy Steve said as they left the fortress behind. ¡°I used to be a lifestyle coach and a relationship counselor.¡± Ian sighed. ¡°Good to know.¡± Chapter 17 - Homecoming Chapter 17 2 Years and 4 Months Post Apocalypse Homecoming Human Population 60,000,000 1 Year, Ten Months Post Apocalypse Desert Scorpion Home Base Mike woke up and saw a gangly teenage boy in the doorway. The boy smelled like death, blood, and freshly fired guns, and there were blood splatters on his odd-looking armor. ¡°Mike,¡± the teenage boy said. ¡°We need to talk.¡± ¡°Who are you, and what are you doing here?¡± ¡°Your group, the Desert Scorpions, have been extorting money and drafting people from the nearby enclaves, claiming to be this region''s protector. But you''re not protecting the region, you''re protecting yourselves, so your neighbors are getting upset and telling you to go to hell.¡± ¡°And what is your connection to these enclaves, Ian?¡± Mike asked, reading the boy''s display. ¡°Your group sent people to terrorize these enclaves to gain cooperation. Rape, kill, that sort of thing. To make them more afraid of you than the aliens." ¡°You''re the Ian Anderson we''ve been hearing about?¡± Mike said. The boy turned away from him and punched the guard tower wall several times in frustration, then held his hand like it hurt. ¡°I''d rather be out killing aliens and trying to win this game, but you assholes keep causing problems! Now the enclaves have united against you and are planning to ambush your patrols. I know your people will retaliate, killing more humans than the aliens. I''m not even sixteen, but I have to be the adult in the room and tell you guys to cut it out!¡± ¡°Easy buddy. I''m not the guy in charge.¡± Mike held out his hands and spoke in a soothing voice. ¡°I just manage security. Now, if you want to speak to our leaders, I''ll take you to them. I don''t advise it though. They''d love to kill you.¡± ¡°Ian. You done here?¡± came a voice from the doorway. ¡°Our people are loaded up and we''re ready to go.¡± ¡°Almost done,¡± Ian said. ¡°Mike, I know you, and many of your comrades, have families. I know where you live. I know the location of your nursery, your school, the hidden sub-basement vault your wives and children use for shelter in emergencies. Vault combination 20-6-15. Change it, and I''ll learn it again the same way I learned this one. If you don''t quit bullying your neighbors and their families, I will return and you are not going to like it.¡± Mike stood up, towering over the smaller teenage boy. ¡°Threatening my family won''t change how things are done here, but I will snap your neck like a twig if you ever go near them.¡± ¡°No threats, just a warning. Everything will be clear when you wake up again.¡± ¡°What?...¡± Mike returned to consciousness, getting up off the floor amid the sound of screams and alarms. He rushed to the source of the disturbance and found the council meeting room covered with blood. It seemed Ian Anderson had taken out the entire Desert Scorpion leadership. According to the chain of command, Mike was their new leader. *** Dear Enclaves and concerned parties. I wish to address a matter of mutual concern. A teenage boy named Ian Anderson, aka Lord Ian Mind Master, has the ability to penetrate our defenses and kill with impunity. He''s a threat, not only to us, but to every human in this area. I''m suggesting we join forces. And though I believe we could kill this individual, I think it would be a bad idea to do so at this time. This boy has shown a strong desire to hunt and kill alien invaders and has an impressive knack for it. I would suggest working together to assist him in achieving this goal. While we are assisting him, we need to observe him in action to learn more about his particularly lethal skill set. And if, and how, it can be duplicated. Mike Ortiz Desert Scorpion Leader. *** Dear Ian, I realize we didn''t part on the best of terms. I think both of us said and did things we regret, and I hope we can put that behind us. You should know the two kids you brought to the Fortress at the beginning of last year became instant celebrities. They were telling your story for over a month, and I really hope the part where you let those alien monsters use you for a chew toy was an exaggeration. Regardless, the way you''ve been clearing this entire region of dangerous aliens is nothing short of amazing. Mrs. Wilcox has made you official Fortress Champion. I''m not sure what the title is worth, but you''ve more than earned it. I''ll be blunt, Ian. We need you back at the Fortress desperately. The aliens in our city are growing larger and smarter, but what''s worse is, in part thanks to you, this region has gotten stable enough for citizens to push for a mayoral election. Mr. Woodrow Payne seems like the one to bring us together in these difficult times. He''s charismatic and has brilliant ideas for bringing the city together and creating a fair and equitable society. I also think Mrs. Wilcox won''t give up her position without a fight, and I''m a little scared. I think you could help ensure a smooth transition of power. I heard you''ve killed a bunch of people. I will not pass judgment until I hear the whole story, but what I''ve heard does not make you look good. I know this new world can be a difficult place, but I hope you''re able to survive in this monster-infested land without becoming a monster yourself. Please come back, Ian, and use your influence to prevent a war. Unless you''ve become a monster. In which case, stay where you are. Your Father Carl Anderson Ian folded the letter, put it away again, and sighed. ¡°It''s not like I wanted to kill those guys. Don''t see why everybody''s making such a big deal out of it.¡± ¡°You butchered eleven humans in cold blood, Ian,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°I''m not convinced it was necessary,¡± ¡°We''ve been over this, Steve. They were bad people,¡± Ian responded. The truth was killing those people made him sick and still kept him up nights. ¡°You were going to talk to Desert Scorpion leadership. What happened?¡± ¡°They really didn''t like what I had to say.¡± Ian sighed. ¡°Anyway, the Fortress is the last place I want to go. But if my going will prevent a war...¡± By contrast, Mrs. Wilcox had sent him a far shorter letter. Ian Anderson. Get your ass back to the Fortress now!Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Mrs. Wilcox The two letters seemed conflicting. If Mrs. Wilcox was trying to kill someone Dad liked, it would make sense to keep Ian out of the way. Ian had received the letters the week before from a traveling courier. This was the slowest, and by far the most expensive way to send a message, but since Ian worked hard to stay out of cell-phone range, they hadn''t had much of a choice. Though Dad had already paid the courier, Ian gave the man an additional thousand credits with his response: Tell them I''ll be back in a week. *** Ian dismissed his ogre-like tumtum servant at the outskirts of the city. If he tried to bring it in with him someone would shoot it. People kept acting like controlling the giant alien was a big deal, but the truth was, controlling something as stupid and docile as a tumtum was trivial. Ian had found that a good way to avoid conflict with Desert Scorpion patrols and potentially troublesome enclaves was to send the 30-foot tall tumtum ahead of their battered red Jeep carrying a sheet. On the sheet, he''d spray-painted the words: This is Ian Anderson I''m just passing through. Don''t mess with me and I won''t mess with you It was impressive how often, instead of fighting or trying to rob him, whatever enclave or patrol he encountered would remember a nearby alien monster they were afraid of. Or some heavy object they wanted moved. He was all too happy to help. He liked being useful. Ian sighed and looked out the passenger window of his Jeep. Going back to the Fortress was the last thing he wanted to do. ¡°It''s not that bad, Ian,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°You''re a superhero. With great power comes great responsibility. Speaking of which, have you given any thought to my suggestion?¡± ¡°Of course, Steve. If I could mindwipe someone instead of killing them, I''d do it. But at this time, I can''t permanently erase anyone''s memories. I know how you feel about killing humans, but if I can stop killers from killing innocent people, I should. If I don''t, I share responsibility for the innocent people they kill.¡± The city hadn''t changed much since the last time they''d been there: the streets were falling apart, making driving difficult, even for Ian''s Jeep. Bent or fallen streetlights blocked their way sometimes, and electrical wires sagged or lay on the ground. Houses and businesses on the outskirts of the city were abandoned, and alien monster trees popped up from time to time where no tree should be, like in the middle of the street or coming out of buildings. A big tumtum tree came out of the roof of an abandoned bank where someone had spray painted ¡°MR. PAYNE WILL BRING THE GAIN,¡± using red, white, and blue spray paint, next to the ruins of what had been the front entrance. Ian could sense people watching as he and Crazy Steve drove into the city. ¡°Take a hard right at this next street.¡± ¡°Okay. Why?¡± Crazy Steve asked. There was a loud crack of gunfire, and something slammed into the back of the jeep with a loud bang. ¡°That''s why.¡± ¡°Shit! We got snipers!¡± Crazy Steve floored it, taking evasive action. The snipers fired several more times, but scored no more hits on the Jeep. Five minutes later, Crazy Steve stopped the jeep in an alley and studied his cell-phone. ¡°I just got some texts from over ten different enclaves around the city telling me they didn''t do it. The Poopy Pandas say ''It wasn''t us. We wouldn''t have missed. Desert Scorpions can''t hit the broad side of a barn.''¡± ¡°Poopy Pandas?¡± ¡°I think it''s a cool name. Maybe the Desert Scorpions are mad because you killed their leaders?¡± Crazy Steve looked reproachfully at Ian. ¡°They''re not involved. Their new leader, Mike, won''t admit it, but he thinks I did him a favor. From what I got from the snipers'' minds, it would seem they were hired by a military man, who in turn works for Mr. Woodrow Payne. I don''t think Mr. Payne likes me.¡± As they drove further into the city, approaching the Fortress, they began seeing more people going about their business. The streets were better cared for and some of the businesses actually appeared open. The Fortress stood on a hill in the most elevated part of the city. The walls and guard towers could be seen for miles, provided no building was blocking the view. At night, the fortress gave off enough light to be seen outside the city, one of the few places in the region that did so since the Alien Apocalypse. The Fortress, now the center of city commerce, contained over a thousand people, and even more came and left throughout the day. The place also attracted monsters. Ian heard and sensed fighting in the distance. ¡°That way,¡± he pointed. ¡°Time for me to make an entrance.¡± ¡°You''d better be making an entrance from the Jeep,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°Last time you tried to make an entrance, you lost an arm. You were crying, saying ''let me know if I''m being stupid.'' I''m letting you know.¡± ¡°Just get me over there,¡± Ian said, ¡°and I was not crying.¡± There were shouts, shooting, and the roar of flames. Crazy Steve pulled up next to a burning abandoned house. At least Ian hoped it had been abandoned. Ian jumped out of the jeep. ¡°It''s okay, Steve. Just wait here!¡± he shouted, running towards the flames. His foot connected with a big piece of broken concrete. He tripped and fell. His armor prevented him from getting hurt, but not from falling flat on his face. Good one, Ian, way to impress the locals, he thought. He got up quickly. The thirty-foot-long purple-and-white alien dragon ¡°dumdum¡± was almost on top of him. The dragon''s display popped up. This is a baby dumdum. He is new to this world; please be nice to him. I would if the creature would quit trying to kill and eat everyone, Ian thought. Ian raised his hands. The dragon froze where it was, about twenty feet away from Ian, just as it was about to breathe fire again. The dragon couldn''t move. A large armor-piercing crossbow lay on the ground to the right of Ian. It was what the patrol should have been using to kill this thing. He guessed someone had dropped it and run for safety. Ian made a show of being under tremendous psychic strain. His arms and hands clenched like he was lifting a heavy object, his legs trembling, taking a step back, then forward again. He sensed people watching him with bated breath, guns ready. Someone ran up, picked up the crossbow, and fired. The diamond-tipped crossbow bolt went through the bottom of the dragon''s mouth and into its skull. The dragon died and vanished. A dumdum tree would soon appear nearby. Dumdum trees were tall, skinny, and non-fruit-bearing. For obvious reasons, they were becoming increasingly common in this area. Ian didn''t know when armor-piercing crossbows had started showing up as monster loot, but diamond-tipped crossbow bolts cost a credit apiece in the Galactic Market. The big man holding the crossbow ran up to him. Ian recognized him as Dex, the older boy he used to patrol with. ¡°Ian, you okay? Wow. You''ve grown.¡± An old man stormed over to them. ¡°God damn it, Ian! You come back after two years, and you''re already stealing our kills! We were doing fine without your help!¡± Dex smiled and shook his head. The old man''s glare turned into a smile, and he held out his hand. ¡°Good to see you again, Ian. Welcome back. Dang, you''ve grown like six inches.¡± ¡°Holy shit! Dex and Hunter!¡± Ian said, recognizing the two men he used to go on patrol with. ¡°It''s been years! How''s Sam, Dex?¡± ¡°She''s well,¡± Dex responded. He held up two fingers. ¡°Two kids.¡± ¡°Congratulations!¡± Ian said. ¡°Sam''s back at the Fortress,¡± Hunter said. ¡°Apparently, you''re not allowed to patrol while carrying a baby. Speaking of the Fortress, you might not want to go back. They''re waiting for you.¡± Ian''s battered red Jeep pulled up. ¡°Ian, what the hell are you doing? Get your ass back in the Jeep!¡± Crazy Steve shouted. Ian shook Hunter''s hand. ¡°Later guys, got to go.¡± Ian got back into the jeep. As they left, he could see Hunter shouting at his patrol. ¡°What the hell were you doing, showing off like that?¡± Crazy Steve asked, trying to negotiate the streets to get them into the fortress. The streets were crowded with people, animals, and the occasional motorcycle or truck. ¡°Trying to make an entrance,¡± Ian said. ¡°I believe you once said people''s perceptions of you are often more important than the reality. It''s easier dealing with people if I look heroic.¡± ¡°No, I said stay in the Jeep, you idiot!¡± Crazy Steve responded. ¡°It doesn''t matter how tough you are, it takes one screw up to get yourself killed!¡± ¡°I was fine,¡± Ian said. ¡°I would never do that with a dangerous alien.¡± ¡°They''re all dangerous aliens!¡± A crowd waited at the Fortress entrance. A huge banner hung over the entrance with the words ¡°WELCOME HOME IAN ANDERSON! FORTRESS CHAMPION!¡± Near the banner, spray-painted on the Fortress walls in red was: ¡°Take Back the Fortress!¡± and ¡°Woodrow Payne for Mayor.¡± By contrast, the crowd around the entrance held up signs saying ¡°DEATH TO EVIL IAN!¡± ¡°WAR CRIMINAL!¡± as well as pictures of the people Ian had killed and their families. One picture, in particular, was of an attractive man in an army uniform holding a young boy. Seeing Ian, the protesters took up a chant. ¡°Ban the Butcher! Ban the Butcher!¡± Ian recognized the man in the photographs, though the previous Desert Scorpion leader had aged a bit by the time Ian killed him. Ian pulled out his cell-phone and texted Mrs. Wilcox. ¡°I requested discretion! What did you do, invite the city?¡± Mrs. Wilcox quickly texted back. ¡°It''s just a small gathering. Get over here and be nice. Don''t worry about the protesters.¡± Crazy Steve drove through the crowd surrounding the Fortress entrance, amid chanting and booing. Mrs. Wilcox''s security people used large shields to hold back the protesters. The protesters weren''t having any. Rocks bounced off the Jeep. Tomatoes and other things splatted against the windshield. Crazy Steve used the windshield wipers to clean it off, but he only made it worse. Crazy Steve moved his hands in time with the chants. ¡°Ban the butcher. Ban the butcher,¡± he said quietly to himself. ¡°I''m telling anyone who doesn''t hate you how many times I saved your life. Without me, you wouldn''t have lasted a day.¡± ¡°Quite true, my friend,¡± Ian said. ¡°Personally, I''d rather deal with a thousand angry mobs than spend a day with my family. This is going to suck.¡± There were reasons he''d waited this long to return to the Fortress. In fact, if it hadn''t been for Mrs. Wilcox and Dad''s pleading messages to him, he''d still be on the road. As soon as Ian left the Jeep, he was mobbed by the crowd. Something splatted on his helmet, obscuring his vision. A tomato maybe. He wiped off the helmet''s transparent eye covering to see security guards pushing back the protesters. Uncle Ben enclosed him in a big bear hug. ¡°Ian, I''m so glad to see you''re okay!¡± he shouted to be heard. ¡°Man you''ve grown. I really hope those stories about you are not true.¡± Dad and Gabe stood off to the side. Dad nodded. Gabe looked away. Neither seemed to know what to do or say. Guards escorted Ian through the crowd and helped him onto a makeshift stage in front of the crowd until he stood next to Mrs. Wilcox, who, as always, looked amazing in her polished silver armor. She raised her microphone to her mouth. Before she could speak, an attractive young woman, holding onto a ten-year-old boy, pushed her way in front of the protesters. ¡°That monster killed my husband! I demand he be brought to justice!¡± A second and third egg splatted on Ian''s armor. Ian sighed. Great. Chapter 18 - Family Reunion Chapter 18 2 Years and 4 Months Post Apocalypse Family Reunion Ian stood on the stage while over a hundred people chanted ¡°War Criminal! War Criminal!¡± A widow had just accused Ian of murder. Ian sensed anger in her ten-year-old son. Sensed the boy reaching for the pistol holstered behind his back. Ian didn''t think the bullets in the boy''s pistol could penetrate his armor, but they might endanger the surrounding people, not to mention the boy himself. So Ian put the boy to sleep. To everyone nearby, it looked like the boy had passed out. Someone grabbed the boy, pulling him away from the close-packed crowd so he could get some air. The boy wasn''t the only one who wanted to shoot him, but the others realized starting a firefight in the middle of a large crowd wasn''t in their best interests. Mr. Payne stood behind the crowd. He was a large man wearing a psychic-suppression helmet that gleamed in the sun, making him look like a fat, shiny mushroom. He pulled out a Galactic Market megaphone. ¡°Mrs. Wilcox. A leader needs to do more than protect her cronies. We demand you put this murderer on trial!¡± Mrs. Wilcox held out her hands and waited for the crowd to calm down. She raised her microphone to her mouth. ¡°Ian Anderson, while we are grateful for your service to this Fortress and the city, you have been accused of killing eight men and three women¡ªeleven people who were not threatening you or attempting to inhibit your activities in any way. These people had families who are seeking justice. We ask you to turn over your pistol, obey our laws, and agree not to leave the Fortress until this matter is investigated and resolved. Do you agree?¡± There were loud boos from the audience. ¡°Lock him up!¡± ¡°Ian Anderson confessed on camera to killing thirty-six people when he was fourteen!¡± Mr. Payne shouted into his megaphone. ¡°What more evidence do you need?¡± ¡°He killed those people in self-defense while taking part in a rescue operation,¡± Mrs. Wilcox responded. ¡°He was found innocent of wrongdoing by an independent counsel over two years ago.¡± Her response got more boos and some cheers. Ian took advantage of the temporary silence to hold out a hand for Mrs. Wilcox''s microphone. When she handed it to him, the microphone let out an annoying high-pitched screech until Ian tapped it to make it stop. Galactic Market technology often behaved strangely around him for no apparent reason. ¡°Certainly, Mrs. Wilcox. I agree. I would also like to say that though I did what I''ve been accused of, I had excellent reasons.¡± Ian handed a cell-phone to Mrs. Wilcox along with his gun. ¡°This cell-phone belonged to one of the Desert Scorpion mediators. In it, you will find text messages between him and the Desert Scorpion leadership he worked for. The Desert Scorpion leader, her husband,¡± he pointed at the woman who''d spoken earlier, ¡°wanted him to break into a certain enclave and rape that enclave''s leader to send a message. The mediator responded by asking if he and his fellows could rape a few of the enclave''s younger girls, too. The Desert Scorpion leader said ''Go right ahead,'' and then the two texted about beer and cooking recipes.¡± To Ian''s intense embarrassment, he noticed his pulse racing and his hand holding the microphone shaking. This was not a subject he enjoyed talking about. He took a deep breath and used his second hand to steady the first one. ¡°I encountered the owner of this cell-phone and his four companions when they were in the process of attacking the enclave in question. After dealing with the five men, I paid the Desert Scorpion leadership a visit. I told them this sort of behavior is not okay and asked them to stop. They said no and tried to kill me. So I dealt with them too.¡± ¡°You''re lying!¡± the woman who''d accused Ian earlier shouted. ¡°Monster!¡± ¡°If what you said is true, you should have tortured them!¡± someone shouted. The protesters started arguing among themselves. Mrs. Wilcox took back the microphone and waited for the crowd to calm down. ¡°We will investigate your claims, Ian, as well as those of your accusers. If you''re telling the truth, you have nothing to be concerned about. In the meantime, welcome back.¡± The loud cheering almost drowned out the boos. *** Ian didn''t get away until late that night. As soon as the protesters started to disperse, Ian was dragged off to a large banquet thrown in his honor. He listened to too many speeches, shook too many hands, smiled at everyone while eating a lot of excellent food and pretending to listen to Mrs. Wilcox and her annoying friend, someone called Princess Phoebe, a girl a little older than himself. ¡°I''m really looking forward to working with you,¡± Princess Phoebe said, moving close to him so her leg touched his while she put her hands over his. The move would have been erotic if it hadn''t felt so contrived and manipulative. Ian''s uncle got drunker, louder and more obnoxious. Dad sat across from Ian at the table, saying very little. Gabe sulked at a nearby table and left quickly. Many of the former demonstrators ate at more distant tables. Some still hated him; others weren''t sure. Many were wondering if he''d told the truth earlier. Woodrow Payne ate with the former demonstrators. The large overweight man wore a psychic-suppression helmet and shot angry looks in Ian''s direction. The man disliked Ian for a number of reasons. He knew Ian was friends with Mrs. Wilcox and the last thing Mr. Payne needed was a damn psychic running around telling everyone what a fraud he was. Ian might have felt some respect for the man going up against Mrs. Wilcox, if Mr. Payne had any intention of keeping his many campaign promises. The only life Mr. Payne wanted to improve was his own and perhaps those of a few of his friends and allies. Psychic-suppression helmets had become popular with everyone who could afford them. The shiny bulky helmets were constantly reflecting the sun into Ian''s eyes and reminding him of the tinfoil hats that were popular two years ago. Ian had a simple policy with regard to psychic-suppression helmets. If someone was willing to spend 10,000 credits in the Galactic Market to prevent their mind from being read, Ian was happy to go along and pretend he couldn''t, provided they weren''t planning to kill or rape anyone. Maybe the helmets worked on lower-level psychics? He wasn''t sure. Having so many people close to him put Ian on edge and interfered with his gift. He kept expecting a Kitykity to jump out of the crowd or from behind one of the many buildings that had popped up around the Fortress. It didn''t help that Mrs. Wilcox had assigned a security team to him. They stayed in the background, but he could feel them watching. Crazy Steve ran off with four women, each less than half his age. With a chuckle, Ian wondered what the five of them would be getting up to, when the four female agents weren''t pumping his friend for information on Ian. Nobody believed Ian when he said he didn''t have any secrets. He''d requested the psychic gifts from BG, and he put every stat point he''d gained into those gifts. It was that simple. *** Ian slipped away from the party as soon as he reasonably could. Hiding in Gabe''s workroom, he relaxed in the easy chair while Gabe worked nearby. It seemed Gabe had become nocturnal. Gabe''s workroom was filled with boxes containing things Ian couldn''t identify. Ian used his foot to push a box full of squirming tentacles away from him. They were making him nervous. ¡°It would seem the gifts BG gave us both in the beginning are worth more than I thought,¡± Ian said. ¡°BG told Mrs. Wilcox that a normal human child would need over a million stat points in psychic development to approach my psychic abilities. For an adult, approaching my abilities is simply not possible, since their minds are already fully developed. I''ve put just over 500 stat points into my gift. This makes me wonder about BG''s other gifts. Yours, for example.¡±This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡°In the past month three women named their babies Ian,¡± Gabe said, his mind obviously elsewhere. ¡°And if Woodrow Payne gets elected mayor, we''ll either be kicked out of the Fortress or we''ll have to pay a lot of rent. Really unfair, considering the trouble we went through to steal the Fortress in the first place.¡± Ian tried not to laugh. ¡°Life''s not fair, Gabe, and women can name their kids whatever they want.¡± ¡°I don''t know of any woman who named their kid Gabe since the apocalypse,¡± Gabe grumbled, pacing the workroom with restless energy, his wizard robes flowing around him. He even had a wizard hat now, a pointed hat with the word WIZARD on it. A girl, maybe 12 years old, entered Gabe''s workroom. She wore loose-fitting clothes and moved gracefully. ¡°I put away your equipment, Master Zaldron. Do you want me to do anything else? Oh, hi Ian. Welcome back.¡± ¡°Sabrina!¡± Ian said, standing up, ¡°Sabrina Crabtree, you look well.¡± And she did. The little girl Ian had helped save days after the apocalypse began had grown into a pretty Asian girl, thanks to the sword-wielding Asian princess she''d told BG she wished to emulate at the very beginning. ¡°I''m surprised you recognized me,¡± Sabrina said. ¡°I wish I could travel, but my parents won''t let me leave the Fortress.¡± ¡°Sabrina is my assistant/apprentice. Sabrina, thank you for staying late, but I need you to leave now. Me and my brother have personal business to discuss.¡± ¡°Bye, Ian, nice to see you again.¡± Sabrina ran over and hugged him, then she left the workroom. ¡°Well, Gabe,¡± Ian said after Sabrina left. ¡°I''ve sent you a lot of credits, and killed a lot of monsters, to provide you with wizard supplies for you-know-what, and it''s obvious you don''t have shit.¡± Gabe looked away. ¡°Operation Rise-from-the-Ashes has hit a rough patch. I''m doing everything I can.¡± ¡°You''re telling me that with all the monsters I''ve killed, you haven''t received any useful monster loot?¡± ¡°I''ve received a lot of very useful monster loot, Ian, but nothing useful for you-know-what. Believe me, I''m trying everything I can think of. I want you-know-what as much as you do.¡± Gabe stopped pacing and turned to face Ian, arms crossed in front of him. ¡°I saw you talking to Princess Phoebe and Mrs. Wilcox. I overheard them offering you the position of Fortress prince where you could work, with, on-top-of, or underneath, her highness, while managing her princess guard.¡± Oh good grief, Ian sighed and put his head in his hands. ¡°You''re jealous of that? You really have a thing for her.¡± ¡°Along with most of the Fortress''s male population,¡± Gabe said. ¡°The story is Princess Phoebe asked BG to make her beautiful, and BG delivered. She gets credits and stat points when people kill monsters in her name. I''ve tried to convince her of her need for a personal wizard, but with no success. I would cut my right arm off to become Fortress prince, a position Mrs. Wilcox just handed you.¡± Idiot, Ian thought. No wonder Gabe had made so little progress on their project. We''re the same age. When had Gabe become such a child? ¡°How many stat points have you been putting towards your wizard gift?¡± Ian asked. ¡°The stat points I''ve gotten have mostly gone into psychic development at the request of Mrs. Wilcox and the Fortress counsel. I put a few into the alchemy side of my wizardry gift to improve my bomb making. Why?¡± ¡°I''m going to help you, Gabe. I''m not doing it for you, I''m doing it for our project. If you want Princess Phoebe to notice you, you need to go out on patrol and kill some high-level alien monsters in her name. You will then put any stat points you make into your wizard gift. That should make you suck less as a wizard.¡± Gabe backed away, shaking his head. ¡°I''m alien-killing support, Ian. I build bombs. I don''t go on patrols, and I don''t kill high-level aliens.¡± ¡°You do now,¡± Ian said. ¡°Dad won''t be happy, but you''re 16. He can deal.¡± ¡°And you''d just give up Princess Phoebe?¡± ¡°I think I''ll manage,¡± Ian said. ¡°Oh, and here''s a list of things I need: bombs, medical supplies, alien traps, to help me kill more and bigger monsters.¡± He put a piece of paper on Gabe''s desk. ¡°Think of this as the price of getting rid of me.¡± ¡°Then I''ll pay it with pleasure,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Please leave, I''ve got work to do.¡± Ian left the workshop. The fall wind blew through the night. Halloween would be coming up in a few weeks, but, for some reason, nobody celebrated that holiday anymore. ¡°I know you were listening, Sabrina. The project we were discussing is secret. Don''t mention it to anyone.¡° He felt her nod from the shadows near the lab''s entrance. ¡°Got it. Is there anything I can do to help?¡± ¡°No. Go home. Your parents and grandmother are worried about you,¡± Ian said. ¡°Oh, I should tell you, Mr. Payne''s people paid me a visit,¡± Sabrina said. ¡°They said things would go better for me and my family if I spied on the Andersons for them. I told them I don''t know anything. I just sweep floors and stuff.¡± She emerged from the shadows and ran off with a grace Ian envied. It was all he could do to run without tripping over his own feet. *** His old room, in fact the entire mansion and Fortress, seemed smaller since his return. His room had been cleaned, but aside from that, it was exactly how he''d left it. Both Mrs. Wilcox and Princess Phoebe wanted to join him for the night. Ian had been forced to insist on privacy, telling them his gift was overwhelmed by so many people and he needed alone time. Not quite a lie. Ian had thought having sex with those two women might be fun, but not worth the consequences, or what they wanted from him in exchange. The rest of Ian''s family was elsewhere, still partying or working. From what he could tell, Gabe slept in his workroom, and Dad and Uncle Ben had found other places to stay. Between Stacy''s death and Ian''s leaving, family dinners had become a thing of the past. The family cat, Fluffy, let out a crabby meow and ran off when he approached. How old was Fluffy? Ian wondered. The cat had been around since Ian was a little kid. Stacy''s room was empty, of course. Ian knew Gabe had boxed her things and hidden them away. When they brought her back, she''d want them again. Ian pulled up his stat sheet. Ian''s Stat Sheet Name Ian Anderson Sex Male Age 16 Physical Attributes: 3.3 With 10 being an Olympic athlete and 1 being an invalid in a wheelchair, you are 3.3. Mental Attributes: 7.8 With 10 being super genius and 1 being severely retarded, you are 7.8 Status among Peers: Low If your peers hadn''t been eaten, they would still consider you a nerd and a spasticle. Spasticle is human slang for an uncoordinated clumsy person. Some irrational and misguided humans consider you dangerous because you killed people, and assisted in killing hundreds of mildly dangerous aliens. I assure them any normal human could do the same or better. Claims to Fame: If Coach Benson hadn''t been eaten, he would still consider you the worst player to ever try out in the fifty years he coached his Little League baseball team. Special Abilities: Psychic: Intermediate level 10 specializing in aliens. Any other Intermediate level 10 psychic specializing in aliens would be doing far better than you. You might not know this, but there is an Advanced level after Intermediate. If only you''d apply yourself a little. Oh, and a certain young princess (princess by election, not by birth) thinks you''re awesome because you killed a lot of monsters and are richer than god. I assured her any normal human could kill a bunch of monsters and make over one and a half million credits by the time they''re 16. Ian sighed. I spent most of those credits or gave them away, it''s not like I carry them around with me. He lay down in his bed for the first time in almost two years and was out like a light. Aliens crept up on him, surrounding him. He heard a low growl¡ªangry, hungry aliens looked down at him. Thump, thump¡ªthey came closer closer. His pulse raced. He''d have one chance: paralyze, then mind kill: paralyze, then mind kill! Now! The next thing Ian knew, he was sitting up in bed, shaking uncontrollably. His first nightmare in several months. Over the past two years, Crazy Steve had learned to wake Ian quickly when he was having one of his nightmares. It was safer for everyone. He''d thought he''d gotten over them. The background noise and too many people living in such a small area must have set one off. He reached out with his gift to check for damage. Way to go Ian. Wake up everyone in the Fortress. At least I didn''t kill anyone. Activating his alien light, he saw Fluffy curled up nearby. With a shiver, he realized that though he saw the cat, he could no longer sense Fluffy''s mind. ¡°Sorry, Fluffy,¡± Ian said, sitting next to the now-dead cat. ¡°You were getting old. Guess the shock from my nightmare was too much for you.¡± Gabe''s failure, Fluffy dying, it was all too much. He buried his head in his hands and started to cry. Suddenly he felt very angry. ¡°Fuck that, Fluffy. You''re not dying on my watch.¡± Ian went into his inventory and pulled out the strongest healing booster shot he had¡ªa syringe long as his forearm filled with a glowing green fluid. Supposedly, if he or Crazy Steve were decapitated someplace and surrounded by aliens, this shot would allow them to get up and run away before anything else happened to them. If BG''s description could be believed, the shot would work up to ten minutes after life functions had ceased. He stuck the needle in Fluffy''s hindquarters and pushed the plunger down. A large bulge in the cat''s fur appeared, then vanished as the cat''s tissues slowly absorbed the green fluid. At first nothing happened. Ian sat there and waited... Five minutes later, ¡°WRAAAR!¡± Fluffy''s claws tore into his arm, going deeper and doing more damage than Ian would have thought possible from a house cat. ¡°I just saved your life, you little shithead!¡± Ian said, trying to staunch the blood flowing down his arm with an old paper towel. ¡°Next time I''ll let you die!¡± Fluffy ran out of Ian''s room. When Ian followed, he found the cat had climbed to the top of the west window''s curtains. Fluffy spent the rest of the night glaring in Ian''s direction, alternating yowling with hissing at him. At least this helped keep Ian awake. With his nightmares, he wasn''t safe to sleep inside the Fortress. At five that morning, Ian felt Mrs. Wilcox climbing the stairs to his residence. She wanted to speak to him, in private. Chapter 19 - Fortress Life Chapter 19 2 Years and 4 Months Post Apocalypse Fortress Life In my travels and interactions with other psychics, I''ve learned that people with enough psychic ability can create mind shields to protect themselves. But it''s much faster for me to use my gift to teach their minds the needed skills. Obviously, the best way to gain psychic abilities, is to have obtained them from BG, in the blue room, the morning of the invasion. But for everyone else, there is hope in the form of stat points that can change your genetic structure, making you psychic if you so choose. Children can develop mind-shields and psychic abilities faster and more effectively than adults. So I strongly suggest you get every child to put a few stat points into psychic development as soon as possible. For adults, 20 stat points put directly into psychic defense should, with a little psychic tweaking from me, prevent what happened with the Kitykity or those damn wuffles. As the only expert in this field that I''m aware of, I apologize for not knowing this earlier. ¡ªPortion of Ian''s letter to Dad and Mrs. Wilcox, sent a week before Ian''s return to the Fortress. *** Ian heard Mrs. Wilcox''s master key turning in the lock. According to the grandfather clock, it was just after five in the morning. The door to Ian''s family living quarters, on the top floor of the Fortress mansion, opened. ¡°Watch out for the cat,¡± he called, not moving from his chair in the living room. Of all the people he knew, Mrs. Wilcox had been changed the least by the alien apocalypse. She still wore a professional skirt, her hair was done and her face made up. She even wore high heels. Nobody wore high heels anymore. She looked like she had when Ian had first seen her over two years ago. Fluffy stopped glaring at Ian, ran down the curtains, shot over to Mrs. Wilcox, let out a loud meowr, and purred loudly as he rubbed himself against her legs. ¡°Oh hi Fluffy,¡± she said. ¡°It''s okay, Ian, Fluffy knows me.¡± She rubbed the top of the cat''s head. ¡°It is, however, you I wanted to see.¡± She walked over to Ian. ¡°Did something happen to your arm?¡± ¡°Just a scratch,¡± Ian said. ¡°What do you want?¡± ¡°Come with me.¡± With a sigh, Ian let Mrs. Wilcox drag him to the kitchen window overlooking the Fortress market and playground. The place where he''d seen his first Kitykity, a lifetime ago. The sun hadn''t come up, but Ian could see a well-lit fountain next to the fortress playground. In the middle of the fountain stood a life-sized statue of his sister, Stacy, Kid Barbie, standing proudly, hair in a ponytail, her two pistols in their holsters around her waist. He turned from the window and collapsed into the nearest chair. The statue of his sister brought back memories. It was too much. ¡°It''s a memorial for your sister and all the children who''ve died defending our world since the invasion,¡± she said. ¡°I don''t know how to respond to this,¡± Ian said. ¡°You should respond by getting on with your life,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°Ian, you''ve been grieving. I lost my entire family in the first week of the invasion, so I know something about the grieving process. For me, organizing the team that took out the monster that killed my family was very therapeutic. You''ve spent the last two years hunting what killed your sister. It''s time for you to settle down. Help your father defend the Fortress, find a nice girl, since you obviously don''t like Phoebe, and get on with your life.¡± Mrs. Wilcox found a bag of ground coffee in the kitchen''s small, solar powered freezer. She put several heaping scoops in the coffeemaker and added water. ¡°And concerning the murders. I believe you are in the clear. We presented the evidence from that cell-phone you provided to the council. You didn''t mention the creepy selfies he took. Your accusers have been slow to respond. The story I''m hearing is they have video and audio footage of you killing the desert scorpion leadership, but they do not feel it would improve their case against you.¡± Ian scooted his chair around until he was looking down at the kitchen table. ¡°First, the Desert Scorpion leader and his cronies accused me of being an alien sympathizer, going on about how rape, torture, killing children is a normal part of war and they told me to ''put some stat points into a pair of fucking balls''. Then he and his cronies tried to kill me. Then they tried to bribe me. After that their leader pissed himself in fear and pleaded for his life. But I knew what he''d do if I let him live so I didn''t have a choice.¡± Ian buried his head in his hands. ¡°I never wanted any of this. When I chose my character build, I wanted people to like me. To stop thinking I was a total loser. Instead, I''m the one who enters a room and makes grown men piss themselves from fear.¡± Mrs. Wilcox pulled up a chair and joined him at the kitchen table. ¡°What I don''t understand is, why you had to kill them yourself? Sounds like the locals would have been happy to do it for you and that would have let you off the hook for their murders.¡± ¡°If the locals had killed the Desert Scorpions, the Desert Scorpions would have targeted them for revenge. The locals in question are mostly women and kids. Decent people. So I killed the bad guys myself and made it clear if anyone had a problem with that, they needed to come after me.¡± ¡°I see. At least nobody thinks you''re a loser.¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°They''re too afraid of you¡ªBut those aren''t the only people you''ve killed. Are they?¡± Ian didn''t answer. ¡°I''ve been following your monster-killing career with great interest. When you pass through an area, there is a slight uptick of suicides and accidental deaths. There was one case where you rescued some people who''d been locked in a cellar. Their captors didn''t just OD on drugs, did they.?¡± Ian sighed. ¡°If I was to kill someone in that way, I would be careful to give it a lot of thought. I would want to be certain the world was better off without them. Some people are sick and or evil enough to threaten everyone around them.¡± ¡°That''s what I thought. Don''t worry, Ian. I''m good at keeping secrets. I''m one of your strongest supporters, and many of my supporters support me because they know this. You''ve helped a lot of people over the last two years.¡± The Galactic Market coffee maker began burbling happily, rocking back and forth on its three feet, and the smell of coffee filled the air. A sign their coffee was almost ready. ¡°I know what you''re about to ask,¡± Ian said. ¡°And I''ve given it a lot of thought.¡± He pulled the ceramic salt and pepper shakers toward him. He laid the pepper shaker on its side. ¡°If Mr. Payne was to have an accident, his supporters would assume you''re responsible and kill you. You have support from most of the Fortress inhabitants, but Mr. Payne has the support of the rest of the city. Unlike you, he talks to the outlying city enclaves. Now if you were to vanish or Mr. Payne was to win the election,¡± he laid the salt shaker on its side, ¡°Mr. Payne would draft the city''s gifted children to form his own personal army, just temporarily, mind you, to restore order while blaming you and your supporters for his actions. He''ll then renege on all his campaign promises like the politician he is. At which point I suspect it''s just a matter of time before someone kills him.¡± Ian pushed the salt and pepper shakers so they fell onto the floor. ¡°At that point either you regain power, or, more likely, the city will fall into civil war and chaos as the Fortress and enclaves fight over who gets to lead.¡± ¡°I see. So you know Mr. Payne''s plans, even through his psychic inhibitor helmet?¡± ¡°Don''t advertise this. Psychic inhibitor helmets may work against lower-level psychics, but against me, they''re worthless.¡± Mrs. Wilcox poured some coffee into a large mug with the words Evelyn Wilcox for Mayor on it. She passed the mug to Ian, along with the sugar and creamer. ¡°What would you have me do?¡± Ian looked away and took a sip of his coffee. ¡°I don''t know. There are over a hundred enclaves and compounds around the city and surrounding area that see you, and to a lesser extent me and my family, as rich shits living it up in their mighty Fortress while the rest of them suffer. The Fortress can''t protect the city,¡± Ian continued. ¡°The Fortress can barely protect itself. Me and Crazy Steve do what we can out there, kill monsters, try to keep peace in the region. Most of the time without killing anyone, but as you''ve seen, there are exceptions.¡± ¡°Well. It seems a certain psychic could have done a lot to bridge this Fortress enclave gap, both by providing aid and collecting taxes. But he ran off to kill monsters. Combine this with the fact that running a fortress during an alien invasion is difficult time-consuming work. And not one of these enclaves demanding aid has paid any taxes, then you have our present situation. So once again. What would you have me do?¡± Ian sighed. ¡°I''m still your man, Mrs. Wilcox, or this conversation wouldn''t be taking place. You are the best person I know of who''s willing and able to run the Fortress. Also, my brother has time-sensitive experiments going in his lab that a change in leadership would mess up. So back to you, Mrs. Wilcox; what would you have me do?¡± ¡°Well Ian, if Mr. Payne could die, in a way that can''t be traced to either of us¡ªI would happily cry at his funeral. He''s overweight so it would be only natural for him to die of natural causes.¡± ¡°What about his followers?¡± Ian asked. ¡°Who, I''ll remind you, badly outnumber your own.¡± ¡°Leave them to me. I''ll let you know if I need help, but I don''t think I will,¡± she said. ¡°Very well. I''ll take care of Mr. Payne,¡± Ian said. ¡°Of course. And you should think about what I said earlier about settling down.¡± Mrs. Wilcox got to her feet. ¡°Oh, and in case you''ve forgotten, the fortress mind-shield hopefuls will be waiting for you at 6:00 this morning.¡±This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°Great,¡± Ian sighed. ¡°Can''t wait.¡± *** ¡°Mrs. Gruber adopted the two kids you dropped off,¡± Dad said, relaxing on the easy chair. ¡°I''ve been keeping an eye on them. They''re doing well, seem happy.¡± ¡°Thank you, Dad,¡± Ian said, yawning and making a note to check on Faith and Evan. In the past two years, he''d meant to check on them, but never had the time. Dad took a deep breath. ¡°Ian, I realize we didn''t part on the best of terms. I am still angry about the way you lied to me for months, and how I ended up finding out.¡± ¡°I told you, Dad, I don''t want to talk about it,¡± Ian said. He sat next to Dad, his eyes closed, concentrating on educating Dad''s tiny psychic gift and not falling asleep. Six in the morning was too early to deal with this shit. ¡°Because of BG and the alien apocalypse, you kids had to grow up way too fast,¡± Dad said. ¡°I realize you did what you thought was right, but if only you''d come to me instead of keeping so many secrets, certain people might still be alive.¡± Ian took a deep breath. He knew this meeting would be difficult. ¡°I like what you''ve done with the Fortress. Those electronically activated machine guns are a nice addition.¡± ¡°Yes, but even so, we''ve had close calls. We''re hoping you can stick around for a bit,¡± Dad said. Ian opened his eyes. ¡°Your mind-shield is done. I''m curious, how many stat points did you put into psychic development?¡± ¡°Over fifty,¡± Dad responded. ¡°By order from the council, everyone''s required to put as many stat points into psychic development as they can.¡± ¡°And you haven''t encountered a skill tree?¡± Dad shook his head. ¡°I see.¡± It seemed Ian had made an excellent choice indeed, requesting psychic gifts from BG instead of some kind of warrior build. ¡°Well, I just taught your mind to protect itself from psychic attacks. Your mind-shield should improve with time, especially if you put more stat points into it. At present, it will not hold for long against a psychic attack. If you encounter a psychic alien, I''d advise you to run like hell.¡± Dad stood up. He looked older and smaller, than he had when he''d kicked Ian out of the fortress two years ago. ¡°Ian, I met someone, Lara Moore. She''s a really nice person and I''d like you to meet her.¡± ¡°You''re a grown man, Dad. You can meet whoever you want. If you don''t mind, I have a line waiting.¡± Ian went to the small room''s doorway and looked out at hundreds of people winding around the building. At the head of the long line was Mrs. Wilcox. ¡°Oh shit. I need more coffee.¡± ¡°Bye Ian, I hope you come visit,¡± Dad said. He started to say something else, then stopped, turned, and left. *** It was mid-afternoon before Ian finally finished with the line of mind-shield hopefuls. Some he''d provided with mind-shields, but most didn''t have enough psychic ability for him to work with. Even the three psychic children who''d recently moved to the Fortress were weak. They reminded Ian of himself, days after the alien apocalypse. Since he would be leaving soon and wasn''t sure when he''d come back, now was the time to take care of things at the Fortress and say his goodbyes. The Fortress playground had changed. Instead of a barren lot, the place was now filled with obstacles, everything from wooden posts and iron bars, to big tires for the kids to play on and around. In the middle of the playground was an imitation alien that looked like a cross between a robot, a jellyfish, and a T. Rex with long chains hanging off its sides. The fountain with Stacy''s statue was nearby. It felt strange having a statue of his sister. He wondered what Stacy would think of her statue when they brought her back. Kids surrounded a group of adults, including Mrs. Gruber and Ian''s old companion Sam. Sam had two babies with her. She held one while the other slept in a stroller nearby. Mrs. Gruber, if possible, looked fiercer and meaner than she had two years ago when Ian left. The imitation alien let out a roar and its chains moved back and forth. Mrs. Gruber pulled out a stopwatch. ¡°Again! Go! Go! Go!¡± Every kid knew what to do. Some ran for cover; others, including Evan, ran forward, avoiding obstacles using their speed to run around the fake alien, dodging the chains coming from the fake alien that lashed out like whips. The kids stuck objects onto its body and threw them into its mouths, before running back to safety. One kid could even fly short distances and flew over the obstacles. Another was telekinetic, causing sand and gravel to rise from the ground and into the alien''s three faces. The objects the kids used on the alien went off like firecrackers. Then six other kids, including Faith and Road Warrior, ran forward with heavy steel spears and hurled them into the fake alien''s body. ¡°Time!¡± Mrs. Gruber walked over to Evan and grabbed him by the ear. ¡°You know what you did! If your sticky bomb falls off the alien, do not stop to pick it up and put it back on again. You go go! Run back to safety, see what needs to be done next.¡± Evan hung his head. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°Never fight monsters alone,¡± Mrs. Gruber said. ¡°You are a hundred times more dangerous as a group. Do what you do best, look out for each other, work as a team and you might survive. Because somebody didn''t follow simple instructions, we go again.¡± The kids groaned. Sam came over while Ian watched the kids. ¡°Mrs. Gruber''s bark is worse than her bite. Evan reminds her of her late son and she wants him to survive. If it''s any consolation, she now thinks you''re one of the good psychics. Like a vampire with a soul.¡± ¡°Has BG made anyone into a vampire?¡± Ian asked, suddenly curious. Sam cradled her sleeping infant. She shook her head. ¡°A vampire is half a non-human entity, so BG won''t do vampires, same with Jesus Christ. I met a guy who tried for that one. Too bad, that water into wine thing would have been awesome.¡± ¡°The kids seem happy,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''m glad people like you are looking out for them.¡± ¡°Ian!¡± Evan shouted, running up to him, the rest of the kids close behind. They mobbed Ian and bombarded him with questions. ¡°How many monsters have you killed?¡± ¡°How old are you?¡± ¡°Did you bring Kityfruit?¡± ¡°Are you marrying Princess Phoebe?¡± Not if I can help it. Ian thought. ¡°He is if he''s not gay,¡± said Road Warrior. He''d grown over a foot since Ian had seen him last, and he''d put on a lot of muscle. ¡°Hey! Road Warrior,¡± said Sam. ¡°What did we talk about?¡± The boy''s head, still stuck inside his cat skull helmet, turned to face the ground. ¡°Gay is okay.¡± ¡°That''s right,¡± Sam said. ¡°Ian can be gay if he wants to.¡± ¡°You were supposed to come check on us,¡± Faith said, punching his chest hard enough to hurt through his armor. ¡°We wanted to,¡± Ian said. ¡°Monsters kept showing up. You got the Christmas presents and the letters, right?¡± ¡°Yes, but that''s not the same. We wanted to see you.¡± She slugged him again. ¡°You seem happy,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''m glad.¡± ¡°We''d be happier if you''d visit!¡± Faith slugged him a third time. ¡°I''ll try to do better. I promise.¡± Mrs. Gruber rang a hand-bell. ¡°Kids! It''s snack-time! And Ian has things to do! Remember, tomorrow we train with live aliens!¡± There was some cheering. Mrs. Gruber threw Ian an icy glare. ¡°Behave yourself, Ian.¡± Ian did a half salute. ¡°Take care of those kids, Mrs. Gruber.¡± ¡°Bye, Ian,¡± Faith and Evan said, reluctantly heading back for snacks. ¡°Sam, you know where Hunter is?¡± ¡°That''s easy. The infirmary. It''s practically his second home. See you soon, Ian.¡± She left him and rejoined the kids. *** The infirmary was far more casual than any pre-apocalypse medical center would have been. Thanks to regen shots, nobody got infected, and medical complications that would have killed a patient before were no longer a problem. Infirmary workers, identified by a red band on their arms, walked past Ian in the hall. Treating the wounded was neither glamorous nor financially rewarding, but to many, it was preferable to leaving the Fortress and fighting monsters. ¡°Solar-powered blood from the Galactic Market, 20 credits,¡± came a voice from behind a door with ICU spray-painted on it. ¡°Makes no sense on multiple levels, but what do I know? I used to be a podiatrist. Fucking aliens ruined my career plans. Nobody cares about foot problems anymore. Still, we stopped your bleeding and stabilized your condition. Your regen shot will do the rest. You''re going to live to fight monsters another day.¡± Ian heard someone moving around the ICU, and the sound of groaning. ¡°As for how long you''re going to be here?¡± the podiatrist continued, ¡°there are two types of shots we get from the galactic market. The first is the basic regen shot, cheap, permanent, but slow acting. You and every surviving human have one already. The second is a regen booster shot, expensive, fast acting, and lasts a couple days at the most. The more credits you''re willing to spend, the faster you''ll recover and get out of here. If you were part of the Anderson family or friends with Mrs. Wilcox, you''d be fixed up and out of here by tomorrow. But in your case? Let me put it this way. How big a monster did you just kill?¡± ¡°It got away,¡± the patient moaned. ¡°BG says ''You suck. Better luck next time, loser.''¡± ¡°Ooh. Unless you know someone with 10,000 credits, you''re going to be here for at least a month. If you should kill something in the future, please remember our infirmary depends on donations to operate.¡± Ian kept going. The infirmary was bigger than it had been the last time he''d visited, but he''d spent enough time here in the past to know his way around. The recovery area, where recuperating patients were kept fed and clean, was by far the largest part of the infirmary, with rows of beds on either side, so staff, and visitors like Ian could walk through the middle. He spotted Hunter in a distant corner of the room, standing with Dex and Robert around a bed. ¡°I keep telling you, Marvin. Watch out for the teeth,¡± Hunter was saying. ¡°The claws, the spikes, the venom, the acid, and the toxic mist some aliens produce are bad enough, but always watch for the teeth. Maybe when your legs grow back, you''ll be more careful. That, and quit dropping your damn crossbow.¡± Marvin was a large, musclebound black kid, maybe 17 or 18, lying on the bed. He''d have been larger if his legs hadn''t been bitten off up to the thighs. He did not look happy. ¡°Maybe I should find another patrol to join, and the name''s Blade-Master.¡± ¡°None of that, Marvin,¡± Robert said, shaking his head. ¡°These guys are giving you another chance. I know you were white before the apocalypse, so you don''t understand how hard being black can be. People expect more of you when you''re black, like not dropping your damn crossbow and running when monsters attack. Just the way it is.¡± Hunter nodded. ¡°In hindsight, Dex should be the one with the crossbow. Me and you will be distraction, once your legs grow back, and speak of the devil, it''s Ian Anderson. Two years ago, this guy had me convinced he was worthless. If I''d known the truth, we''d have been kicking ass out there.¡± ¡°Nice to see you again, Ian,¡± said Robert. ¡°You know I saved Ian''s life. Three days after the apocalypse began. That was a crazy time.¡± ¡°True,¡± Ian said. ¡°You know, everyone here except Marvin saved my life at least once. You guys should form a club.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± asked Marvin, looking suspicious. ¡°I brought a few things that should help you guys,¡± Ian said, putting a few syringes and tubes on Marvin''s bed stand. He held up the smallest tube. ¡°This is Limb-Regrow; I got it from my brother. It should heal your legs in a few hours instead of a few weeks, but make sure you get a lot of high-protein food in you before you use it. Regrowing a limb that fast takes it out of you.¡± ¡°And to what do we owe this display of generosity?¡± Hunter asked. ¡°Well, Hunter. My brother, Gabe, needs to learn how to use his wizard gift to kill monsters. I want you to take him on patrol. At the very least he can provide you guys with on-site healing support, but if he can do a tenth of what I think he can, you guys will kick ass out there.¡± Hunter shook his head. ¡°Your father wants to kill me as it is, Ian. He''s not going to put up with that.¡± ¡°Gabe is 16, and he''s capable of so much more than building bombs,¡± Ian said. ¡°I figure it''s his decision, and he wants to go.¡± ¡°You sure he wants to go?¡± Marvin asked. ¡°Last I heard, ''Zoltron the Mighty Wizard does not do patrols.'' His words, not mine.¡± ¡°He does now,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''m asking you guys because I trust you. But if you''re not interested, I''ll talk to other patrols.¡± Hunter looked at Dex, then at Marvin. Dex nodded and gave a thumbs-up sign. Marvin shrugged. ¡°Ah fuck it,¡± Hunter said. ¡°If he shows up, we''ll take him in.¡± ¡°Good deal. Thank you guys,¡± Ian said. ¡°Hey Ian, I got to ask,¡± Robert said. ¡°You''ve been on the road for the past two years. You come back to the fortress, Mrs. Wilcox and Princess Phoebe both want to sleep with you, but you turned them down?¡± ¡°I got a girlfriend out in the enclaves... well, kind of girlfriend. She''s one of the few people who doesn''t see me as a creepy psychic, so I try to stay on her good side. I''m going to have a hard enough time explaining the people I killed.¡± To call her a girlfriend was an exaggeration, but he knew it would get the men off his case. ¡°Wow,¡± Hunter said. ¡°Good for you, kid. Hang onto that one.¡± ¡°Will do guys. I''m leaving the Fortress today, but I''ll be around to check up on things. You guys take care of yourselves.¡± As soon as Ian left the clinic, he was surrounded by guards. ¡°Ian Anderson, you and every psychic in the Fortress are required to wear a psychic suppression helmet for the duration of the debates and the upcoming election tomorrow.¡± Ian felt sick from nervousness. The fun was about to begin. Chapter 20 - The Debate Chapter 20 2 Years and 4 Months Post Apocalypse The Debate People ask for my secrets to bomb making. My answer is either: I don''t know, or I''m a wizard. I know about conventional explosives, of course, which, unlike electricity, still work after the Alien Apocalypse, though their energy yield is significantly less now. Me and my dad tested the muzzle velocity of several rifles, and found that with the lower energy yield of smokeless gunpowder, the bullets move at less than half the speed they would have before the invasion. Extremely unfair, considering our circumstances. It''s bad enough the aliens are eating everyone. Did they have to mess with the laws of physics too? I found that if I tweak, or modify, our smokeless gunpowder with certain monster loot, I can significantly increase the gunpowder''s explosive yield. It''s the same with all my explosive devices. I don''t know how this tweaking process works; I feel what I need to do, and I do it. Other people, including my dad, have tried to duplicate my actions, but failed to achieve the desired results. Hence my answer. I don''t know, or I''m a wizard. ¡ªAn excerpt from The Anderson Monster Manual¡ªfrom the section on monsters, and how to kill them. Written by Gabe Anderson. *** ¡°No problem,¡± Ian said to the guards surrounding him. He put on the psychic suppression helmet the guards held out, and held still while the men and women guards, visibly relieved, tightened the helmet to make sure it was securely fastened to his head. They then used a heavy padlock to lock it on. He looked ridiculous, but wouldn''t be able to take the helmet off without power tools. He sent a text to Gabe. ¡°Load jeep with what you got. Will pick up rest later.¡± The debate would start soon. People poured into the Fortress from the surrounding enclaves, gathering near the stage on the east side of the Fortress, across from both the marketplace and the kids'' playground. The stage had been set up on what used to be a tennis-court, pre-apocalypse. Ian moved off to the side, away from the crowd, where he still had a good view of the stage. He sat on the grass, trying to look inconspicuous as he watched people show up for the debate and election, from all over the city. Over a thousand had arrived, and they kept coming. There were a few Wilcox supporters, but most supported Payne. Several fights broke out between the two factions. There were musicians playing various instruments, and vendors selling things like popcorn, sausages (that might, or might not, have come from a pig), and ''Woodrow Payne for Mayor'' and ''Evelyn Wilcox for Mayor'' T-shirts. Con artists came as well, selling magical protection charms and fake healing booster shots at ¡°reasonable prices.¡± The shots consisted of green food coloring and saline. Ian watched as a few con artists were kicked out of the fortress by the guards. Just as well, they were wearing Woodrow Payne for Mayor stickers. He thought about getting something to eat, but felt sick. He didn''t like Mr. Payne, but was killing him the only way? There used to be this thing called democracy. If Mr. Payne got elected, the first thing he''d do was round up the gifted children and turn them into his personal army. This would happen over Mrs. Gruber''s dead body, which among other things, would make his young friends Faith and Evan orphans again. But what would happen if Mr. Payne lost? And could the man be reasoned with? Ian had encountered worse people in his travels, and he wondered if there might be a third and better option out there. Sabrina, Gabe''s assistant/apprentice, came out of the mansion. She pulled a large cart up to the jeep and began loading the bombs and assorted monster-killing items Ian had requested into the back. Four boys around Ian''s age come up and spoke to Sabrina. Ian recognized them. They lived on the first floor of the mansion¡ªthe opposite side from Ian, thank god. In addition to being a-holes, the four boys looked bored; a bad combination. He couldn''t hear what they said, but it was obvious they were being unpleasant. He could feel Sabrina''s anger and unhappiness, though she tried not to show it. She finished loading the jeep and pushed the empty cart away. Without warning, she tripped, falling face-first onto the ground. She got up again and kept going. Sabrina was too graceful to trip like that. Two of them were telekinetics, and it seemed they were getting better. The other two had asked BG for speed and strength. Both were ideal qualities for bullies. Ian hated bullies. He stood up. ¡°Just ignore them,¡± a voice behind him. ¡°They''re not worth it.¡± Ian turned around. ¡°Ellen Crabtree! Wow! You left us after that wuffle thing. And that was the last I saw of you.¡± ¡°Fish and visitors smell after three days,¡± Ellen said, ¡°and Sabrina and I lived with you longer than that. I''m sorry about your sister, she was a lovely kid.¡± ¡°Are they Sabrina''s parents?¡± Ian asked, motioning to the couple behind her. ¡°Sorry, where are my manners?¡± Ellen said. ¡°Ian, these are Sabrina''s parents, Alex and Tara Crabtree.¡± The two adults nervously shook hands with Ian. They both wore red armbands, the uniform for working at the infirmary. ¡°It was nice of Gabe to give Sabrina a job,¡± Tara said. ¡°If we didn''t keep her occupied, she''d be out there hunting aliens.¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Ian said. Sabrina had returned the cart and was coming out of the mansion again, this time with Gabe. The four boys converged on them like dogs on a bloody steak. ¡°This could get ugly,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''ll be right back.¡± Ian jogged over to the group, trying not to trip over his own feet. ¡°I got to ask, Gabe, are you the biggest dork in the universe?¡± a tall blond boy named Erik was saying. ¡°Are you the dumbest person in the universe, or is it one of your friends here?¡± Gabe responded. ¡°No, that''s still you. You know, most losers save their wizard costumes for actual parties and stuff. They don''t live in them,¡± Paul said. He pulled out his cellphone and took a picture of Gabe, clicked ''send,'' then high-fived his friends. ¡°Oooh, watch out, it''s big bad Ian Anderson,¡± Erik said, seeing Ian. The guy behind Erik,¡ªLarry?-- threw a rock that bounced off Ian''s helmet. ¡°I remember two years ago you guys liked to push me around and call me a dud psychic,¡± Ian said. ¡°So how about you quit bothering my friends and family, and I won''t do to you what I did to the two Skull psychics to make them commit suicide, as soon as my helmet comes off?¡± An invisible force coming from Oliver grabbed Ian around the chest and squeezed, making it hard for him to breathe.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°How about we don''t kill you?¡± Oliver said. ¡°How about I don''t chop off your arms and legs?¡± Sabrina responded with a sweet smile, a large sword appearing in her hand. ¡°Try it, you half-pint little...¡± Erik said. ¡°Excuse me, Ian Anderson, are these young men threatening you?¡± a female voice asked. The pressure around Ian''s chest vanished. Ian looked around. It was the security detail Mrs. Wilcox had assigned him. One woman and two men standing behind him, guns out. ¡°My father''s head of security,¡± said Erik. ¡°I''ll have your jobs for this.¡± ¡°Mrs. Wilcox is paying our salaries, sir. It''s our job to protect the Fortress champion Ian Anderson by any means necessary. Are you threatening Ian Anderson, sir?¡± ¡°No, ma''am,¡± Erik said with a smirk. ¡°Mrs. Wilcox won''t be your boss much longer, and Mr. Payne is going to shake things up around here.¡± ¡°I''m sure Mr. Payne will need security too, sir,¡± she said. ¡°Maybe not from you guys,¡± Erik said. Gabe snorted. ¡°Thanks to Mrs. Wilcox, your families live in the mansion too, Erik. You should be concerned with Mr. Payne kicking you out.¡± ¡°Our parents had the sense to change sides, Gabe,¡± Erik said. ¡°Head of Security and the Head Treasurer are working for Mr. Payne now. A lot of people are. About time we got rid of that crazy bitch Wilcox and put someone decent in charge.¡± He pulled out his cell-phone and took a picture of Ian, Gabe and Sabrina. Then he texted something and laughed. ¡°Wilcox''s last supporters. I hear the third floor of the mansion might be gaining some new vacancies.¡± With a laugh, the four boys walked off and Ian''s security team faded into the background once again. ¡°Assholes,¡± Gabe said. ¡°The rats know when to desert a sinking ship.¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Ian said. Or maybe these rats aren''t as smart as they think. ¡°Come on, I think the debates are starting soon.¡± ¡°I don''t even want to watch,¡± Gabe said. ¡°It''s going to be a train wreck.¡± ¡°Come on, Master Zoltron,¡± Sabrina said, pulling Gabe along by his robes. ¡°Mrs. Wilcox needs all the support she can get.¡± *** The first hour of the debate was rather boring. Ian watched with the rest of the audience as Woodrow Payne presented his family, his wife, and two kids (aged nine or ten). They didn''t say much, but smiled a lot and seemed nice. Mrs. Wilcox''s family had all been eaten within the first week of the apocalypse, so, of course, they were not present. ¡°I heard he adopted those two kids because they''re cute and made him look good,¡± Ellen said. Then there was a discussion of the rules. They would start with ten-minute speeches, then both would spend five minutes answering various questions... Ian tuned out the rest. He sensed aliens sleeping in an underground parking lot nearby. Mr. Payne won the coin toss for giving the first speech. He walked to the center of the stage and pulled out a piece of paper. ¡°I was given a list of every man my opponent Mrs. Wilcox has slept with since the alien apocalypse began. This list came from a reputable source.¡± This seemed like a good time. Ian reached out with his gift, cursing his psychic helmet. It blocked him just enough to make what he was doing tedious. This was going to take a while. Mr. Payne made a show of unfolding the sheet of paper once, twice, then again. The list grew longer and longer. ¡°I''m showing you this because I want to make it clear I will not be using this against my opponent in the debate.¡± ¡°I think you just did, asshole,¡± Gabe said under his breath. ¡°This debate is not about the moral standards or extracurricular activities of our leadership. It''s about whether they are doing what''s needed to keep the members of the community fed, healthy and safe. Or are they busy with other things? Is our leadership finding the best people for the job? Or are they choosing a family friend to put in charge of Fortress defense?¡± Somebody''s hitting below the belt, Ian thought. Also untrue. Dad hates Mrs. Wilcox. ¡°There is a list I will be sharing. A list of people who are dead because those who should have been protecting them were doing--¡± He waved a hand, ¡°whatever. This city needs someone strong! Someone who will choose the good of the people over personal gain. Who will find good people for important jobs. Someone with the strength and moral conviction to guarantee the safety of all Cirsium city''s people! Not just boyfriends and friends of the family.¡± Mr. Payne''s supporters started chanting. ¡°MR. PAYNE WILL BRING THE GAIN! MR. PAYNE WILL BRING THE GAIN! MR. PAYNE WILL BRING THE GAIN!¡± The alien alert siren started up. The Fortress''s automatic machine guns opened fire. There was a roar of wind, and sound of giant wings flapping. The dragon flew in from the west, using the setting sun to shield it from view. The dragon swooped down, clawed feet missing the audience by inches. Ian''s last image through the dragon''s eyes was Mr. Payne as a terrified fat man who barely had time to scream as the dragon bit off his head, neck, and chest before flying away. Everyone opened fire. Ian could feel the bullets hitting the dragon, wounding, but not killing it. The wounded dragon dripped green blood as it flew away and favored one of its four wings. The Red Baron and one of his companion planes chased the dragon until it outdistanced them. ¡°Oh, my God!¡± said someone nearby. Probably Ellen. Ian held his hands over his face. He hoped it looked like he was in shock, not like he was concealing a nosebleed. Note to self, puppeteering a dragon is not easy. Words appeared on Ian''s display. You have performed your first political assassination! You are the first human to commit murder through the direct control of a baby dumdum. That poor baby dumdum is traumatized! Due to the unorthodox nature of your kill, you get 5000 credits and 4 stat points! Your galactic following is disappointed in you. Shame! Mrs. Wilcox calmly took the microphone out of Mr. Payne''s dead hand. It had landed nearby, along with most of his arm. She didn''t appear hurt, but blood from the late mayoral candidate splattered her face and silver armor. She took a long shuddering breath. ¡°Though we disagreed on many things,¡± she said. ¡°I had the greatest respect for my opponent, Mr. Woodrow Payne. His death is a tragedy. I and my staff have spent a lot of time and money to make this Fortress safe, but the truth is that none of us are safe. Sometimes shit happens.¡± Mrs. Wilcox took a second shuddering breath. Tears rolled down her cheeks. That''s good acting, Ian thought. ¡°The election will go as planned,¡± she continued. ¡°Mr. Payne would have wanted it that way. Though things might look bleak at the moment, we will not let the aliens win. If I''m elected, I will fulfill as many of Mr. Payne''s campaign promises as I can. In the meantime, I would like every city enclave, or compound housing more than twenty people, to give us the name of their group, and decide who should represent them in the new Payne Representative Council I''m creating in Woodrow Payne''s honor. I will meet with them to determine what problems we face and the best possible actions we can take to rectify them.¡± From the crowd came stunned silence. Ian stumbled towards the stage, pushing through the crowd. When he reached the stage, a couple of people helped push him up onto it. He stumbled over to Mrs. Wilcox, trying not to think of what he was walking over. The lower half of the large man''s body lay nearby, and the stage was slippery with blood. Ian took the microphone from Mrs. Wilcox. ¡°I would like to say I support Mrs. Wilcox and I will do what I can to help. I would like to pledge my last 100,000 credits to the defense of this Fortress and city. Things look bad right now, but we have a war to win.¡± The two of them were greeted with silence. Mr. Payne''s children started crying. ¡°Will we get a city police force?¡± someone asked. Mrs. Wilcox took back the microphone. ¡°Provided we can prevent our police from being eaten, yes. I will discuss this with the new Payne Council,¡± Mrs. Wilcox responded. ¡°Cooperation from the enclaves will be needed for any significant change.¡± ¡°Was Ian Anderson on Mr. Payne''s list of your former boyfriends?¡± someone asked. ¡°You know I don''t discuss such matters,¡± Mrs. Wilcox responded. ¡°What about an ambulance for the city?¡± The questions continued. She answered them smoothly. Mr. Payne''s wife and her still crying children left the stage. *** In the hours afterwords, a lot happened that Ian absorbed without thinking about. His lack of sleep the night before, and the effort expended in making a dragon kill for him had worn him out mentally and physically. After pledging his support for Mrs. Wilcox, he stood there responding woodenly to people around him. While someone cleaned the stage and got what was left of Mr. Payne ready for the funeral, Dad and Gabe got into a loud argument over why the Fortress bullets weren''t penetrating dragon skin like they should be. ¡°It''s like the dragon knew about our defenses!¡± Gabe shouted. ¡°It''s possible it did,¡± Dad responded. ¡°Despite their name, dumdums are fairly intelligent.¡± ¡°They don''t usually fly into the Fortress like that. Suppose it was hunting fat humans?¡± Gabe asked. ¡°Possibly.¡± Someone pointed out that without a psychic suppression helmet Ian might have been able to stop the dragon with his mind power. Ian''s helmet was quickly removed. Mrs. Wilcox put a 10,000 credit reward for the person or group that killed the dragon that had killed Mr. Payne. Ian used his mind power to find where the dragon was located, and gave everyone a general location. A bunch of people took off looking for it. Ian explained his sleep situation to Mrs. Wilcox, who then texted Crazy Steve and spoke to Ian''s family about Ian''s nightmares and how he should sleep away from crowds. Crazy Steve showed up, and he and Ian left for a remote part of the city. Mr. Payne hadn''t been a good person, but he sensed that most of what had motivated the man was fear. The man had been terrified. Well join the club, Ian thought. But his last image of Mr. Payne before he killed the man still haunted him. Had he done the right thing? If Mr. Payne had been elected, he''d have drafted the children into his personal army. Ian had done the rational thing, certainly. He''d done what was best for him, his friends, family, and community. But was there really no other way? No chance he''d have nightmares tonight, he thought, staring into the darkness. Despite his exhaustion, he still couldn''t sleep. Chapter 21 - Wizard Death Match or Gabes Revenge Chapter 21 4 Years Three Months Post Alien Apocalypse, or 0004 P.A.A. Human Population 55,000,000 Wizard Death Match or Gabe''s Revenge Gabe produced a baseball-sized fireball that hovered inches above his right hand. With no warning, his fireball flew backwards, causing the abandoned house behind him to explode in a fiery inferno. ¡°Damn it, Gabe, you know we''re here to kill monsters, right?¡± said Hunter, their patrol leader. ¡°Yes,¡± Gabe said, sounding like he wanted to cry. ¡°And that was my only fireball, so we should probably run.¡± There was a loud roar as something in front of them surged forward. Ian continued watching the cell-phone as the video concluded with the drawing of a wizard being pushed off a cliff, and someone speaking the words, ¡°Wizard Fail!¡± Ian sighed as he scrolled forward to the latest video of Gabe. *** ¡°I''m sure everyone watching this knows about a certain site with videos of my various failures,¡± Gabe said, staring into the camera. ¡°As Zoltron the Mighty Wizard, these video postings will stop, as of today.¡± Gabe straightened and adjusted his wizard''s hat so it stood up proudly on his head, making him look over a foot taller than he actually was. He turned towards the distant sound of roaring. ¡°Let''s go, guys. The monsters are that way.¡± *** ¡°As I was saying earlier today, our mighty wizard is upset about certain ''wizard fail videos'' some asshole keeps posting about him,¡± Marvin said from behind his galactic market video camera. ¡°Like that time Zoltron the Mighty Wizard blew himself up with his own bomb, and we almost got eaten by aliens. Or the time his fireball went the opposite direction it was supposed to, and we almost got eaten by aliens. And there was the time his wizard shield failed, and we got pin-cushioned by popper spikes, and... well, I think you get the picture.¡± Marvin picked up the pace to keep up with Gabe, Dex, and Hunter, the three other men on his patrol. ¡°There''s nothing funny about this,¡± Marvin continued. ¡°Gabe''s doing the best he can. It''s sad people laugh at things like this. People who laugh at human suffering suck. Shame. Shame.¡± ¡°We all know you''re the one posting the videos, Marvin,¡± Hunter said, not even bothering to look back. Their patrol leader was old, but there was nothing wrong with his hearing. ¡°Shhhhh,¡± Marvin said. ¡°People are assholes!¡± he said, louder this time. ¡°Anyway, Zoltron the Mighty Wizard wishes to redeem himself, and... Uh, we should back off, Gabe. They''ve got this one. Let''s redeem you someplace else.¡± ¡°Hey, Assholes!¡± Gabe shouted. ¡°Over here!¡± From a block away, the six-man patrol he was shouting at turned to face Gabe. The six-man patrol comprised of the four who used to pick on Ian and Gabe in the fortress, and two of their older brothers. None of them looked friendly. ¡°Gabe, are you crazy?¡± Marvin said. ¡°They''re tougher than we are, and they''re still mad about that time you tried to get them all executed.¡± ¡°Nobody likes a pussy, Marvin, and those bastards had it coming. Among other things, nobody calls my apprentice a whore. Too bad Dad had to intercede on their behalf and request they be exiled instead. Whatever happens next, keep that camera focused on the traitor patrol.¡± ¡°Last time, they threw cars at us,¡± Marvin said. He focused his camera on the six-man patrol, zooming in on three rusted-out cars rising in the air. ¡°You''re in our territory, traitors,¡± Gabe shouted. ¡°In fact, I believe you were exiled from this part of the city. So leave before you get hurt.¡± ¡°He doesn''t speak for the rest of us,¡± Marvin called out. ¡°No problems here. We''re good.¡± Erik, a traitor patrol member, raised his helm. It seemed several people had bragged loudly on the BG internet about how they''d betrayed Mrs. Wilcox for Mr. Payne, right before Mr. Payne got eaten by a dragon. Across his face and forehead was the word TRAITOR, in large red letters. The tattoo was punishment for his betrayal of Mrs. Wilcox two years ago. All the traitors, and traitor family members, had one. It was part of the compromise that kept them from being executed. A special Galactic-Market ink had been used to make the facial tattoo permanent. Erik could remove the skin from his face, and the tattoo would come back when his skin regenerated. ¡°You don''t know when to quit, wizdork,¡± Erik said. ¡°Give me one reason we don''t kill you right now.¡± A ball of blue light the size of a softball appeared above Gabe''s right hand. ¡°You guys think you''re tough? Block this.¡± Gabe sent his light-ball floating toward the traitor patrol. The traitor patrol''s two telekinetics attempted to stop the light-ball, but were unable to affect it with their power. Instead, they moved a car between them and it. Gabe''s light-ball floated upward until it was directly above them. The car moved smoothly, remaining between the traitors and the light-ball. Erik made a questioning gesture. All six had guns pointing at Gabe and his patrol. ¡°So?¡± Two cars floated toward Gabe and his patrol. Marvin, the camera holder, backed up nervously. ¡°The light-ball I sent over has no mass, so it can''t be affected by telekinetics,¡± Gabe said. ¡°It''s also harmless. The same cannot be said for the lightning bugs inside it. Marvin, zoom in on my light-ball please.¡± Gabe''s patrol watched as hundreds of tiny sparks shot out of Gabe''s light-ball, flowing around the floating car, and settling like dust on the patrol. It was like every patrol member got hit with multiple tasers. The six men convulsed from electricity and fell to the ground, their armor doing nothing to protect them. The three cars came crashing down, including the car the traitor patrol had been using as a shield. At least one of them cried out in agony as their shield car crashed down on top of them. Marvin''s galactic market camera let out a loud squeak as this happened, and its two antennas shot straight up. Galactic-Market technology often behaved strangely for no good reason. Gabe chuckled. ¡°I''ve wanted to do that for years. That''ll teach them to write ''kick me'' on the back of my wizard robes.¡± Marvin zoomed in on the convulsing patrol. There was blood coming out from under the car. ¡°That must have hurt. You suppose they''re okay?¡± ¡°Who cares,¡± said Gabe. Gabe pulled unidentifiable objects from his inventory and started building something. The roar and rumble of approaching alien monsters grew louder.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Six heavily armored, rhino-sized pricklys came up one of the side-streets. An alien display popped up. This is a prickly. It is not getting bigger and faster than last year''s pricklys. It seems that way because you are weak. Seeing Gabe and his patrol, the alien pricklys let out loud roars and charged. ¡°You want some cover fire, Gabe?¡± Hunter asked. ¡°Absolutely not,¡± Gabe said. ¡°Stay behind me.¡± The six pricklys failed to notice the still-convulsing traitor patrol. More cries of agony could be heard as the pricklys trampled the six young men on their way to Gabe and his people. The pricklys'' weight pushed the car on top of the traitor patrol to one side, as they barely noticed it was there. ¡°Shit, shit shit,¡± Marvin said quietly. His camera swung between Gabe, and what were essentially six rhino-sized alien tanks heading straight for them. Hunter stood behind Gabe, looking nervous. The big young man named Dex sat on a nearby curb. He smiled and nodded at Marvin and his camera. Gabe kept working, his inventory turned into a tripod with a two-foot-wide silver dish on top. Wires came out the sides of the silver dish, meeting a foot in front of it. The charging aliens got closer. Marvin''s camera let out frightened squeaks. ¡°Gabe, are you sure you know what you''re doing?¡± Marvin asked. Gabe made his final adjustments and fired one tiny white fireball after another. At this range, it would have been impossible to miss the charging pricklys. The fireballs tore through the aliens'' heavy armidillo shell-like armor. They screamed and exploded, sending millions of foot long spikes everywhere as they died. A wall of foot-long spikes formed, inches from Gabe. Stopped by Gabe''s invisible wizard shield, they soon fell to the ground, in a huge pile of spikes that vanished seconds later. The traitor patrol wasn''t so lucky. Though they were a block away, nothing stopped the prickly spikes raining down on them, causing more cries of pain. Thud thud thud, and roar, came from a new monster coming their way. ¡°Uh Gabe, how does that shield work on boulders?¡± Marvin asked. ¡°It doesn''t. Now if you don''t mind, I need to concentrate.¡± A three foot wide frisbee-like disc formed above Gabe''s right hand. The thirty-foot-tall ogre-like tumtum didn''t even bother with city streets as it advanced, kicking houses aside as it approached. The three nostril slits on its face expanded as it smelled the nearby humans. Tumtums seemed to enjoy carrying boulders around with them. This one was no exception. As the tumtum approached with its boulder, it kicked over the abandoned house next to the traitor patrol, causing part of the wall to land on them. Still more cries of agony could be heard. Gabe''s disc flew at the tumtum, slicing through one of its wrists, causing it to drop its boulder. The boulder landed in the yard in front of the house it''d just kicked over. Fortunately, the houses in this area had long since been abandoned. Their proximity to the fortress had turned this area into a no-man''s-land, with abandoned houses and so many monster trees, the area was becoming a forest. The disc continued forward, slicing the tumtum''s thick neck, flying another fifty feet before doubling back to renew its attack. The tumtum swung at the disc with its good hand, but thanks to Gabe''s skillful handling, the disc avoided the tumtum''s swing and sliced through its neck a second time. The tumtum pulled a lamp post out of the cement with its good hand, and swung it like a baseball bat, missing Gabe''s disc by inches. Gabe''s disk sliced through the alien''s neck a third time, severing its head from its shoulders. Its head fell to the street, landing on top of the traitor patrol, causing further cries of agony, before the tumtum''s head and body vanished. ¡°That was too easy,¡± Gabe said. ¡°I only got twelve thousand credits and eight stat points for all that work. Let''s find some tougher aliens.¡± *** ¡°I am told through some miracle, the entire rebel patrol survived their injuries, and in a couple months will be good as new,¡± Marvin said, looking into his camera, ¡°I''d like everyone to know I just held the camera. I''m not responsible for anything that happened today, and I''m only posting this video because a certain wizard is threatening to chop off my arms and legs if I don''t. I need my arms and legs.¡± Marvin took a drink of what looked like a can of soda with alien symbols on it. The large man was developing a potbelly. ¡°Though all I did was hold a camera and post a few videos, BG says ''your hurtful Wizard Fail videos inspired a wizard to overcome his fears and become the below-average monster-killer he was meant to be. You get 2000 credits, and one stat point. Yay!'' Hey, I''ll take it. I''m not like Ian Anderson, who throws around a hundred-thousand credits like it was nothing. I can use the money. But let me say once again, what happened to the rebel patrol had nothing to do with me. I asked Zoltron the Mighty Wizard if he was worried about retaliation, he said, ''Bring it. I dare those traitor scum to try something.'' So with Zoltron''s permission, I''m setting up a second site called Wizard Death Match 0004.¡± Marvin took another swig of his alien soda. ¡°Anybody who wants to put money on one, or any, of the participants, let me know.¡± *** ¡°Somebody''s doing well after all,¡± Ian said, putting away the cell-phone he''d just bought from a courier. ¡°With all those Wizard Fail videos, I thought I might be wrong about Gabe''s potential, but he seems to be getting the hang of things.¡± Ian and Crazy Steve were driving through the desert, watching as it slowly turned into more rugged, mountainous terrain. A drone flew above them for a while before flying off again. ` They encountered an abandoned checkpoint with a faded sign next to it that said. Welcome to Little, Population 2500 Underneath it said. Home of the Giant Monster Sausage! Next to the sign was an equally faded picture of a large sausage with arms and legs and a gaping mouth full of sharp teeth. A heavy, locked steel gate and barbed wire fence blocked their way into town. On the gate was a folded piece of paper with the words ¡°For Ian Anderson.¡± Ian sensed he was being watched by several people through telescopic sights of their high-powered rifles. Ian walked over to the gate and grabbed the letter. He had a good idea what it would say. ¡°Dear Ian Anderson,¡± Ian read. ¡°I''ve heard stories about teenage girls turning up pregnant with neither the girls, nor anyone else in the area, having any idea how they got that way. By some coincidence, these events appear closely tied to your visits. Now, Ian, I do not know the full story, and I realize you have helped me in the past. That is why I''m giving you fair warning. Turn your jeep around and drive away. Because if you ever set foot in my territory again, my men have orders to shoot you like a dog. Captain Bradley Smith.¡± Ian crumpled the letter and threw it so it bounced off the jeep''s windshield. ¡°Fuck! After all I''ve done for that asshole, you''d think he''d at least listen to my side of the story.¡± ¡°Maybe Captain Bradley''s still mad you tried to kidnap his youngest granddaughter?¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°That''s was you! I can''t stand that little brat, and fortunately for you, Captain Bradley thought you were joking.¡± Ian glared at the drone that was hovering nearby, watching them. ¡°That paranoid asshole thinks everybody wants out to run off with his stupid granddaughters, and he thought I was a creepy psychic at the best of times. Great.¡± ¡°It seems The Home of the Giant Monster Sausage feels you are putting your wiener where it doesn''t belong.¡± Crazy Steve blew cigarette smoke out the driver''s side window. ¡°What do you think is really going on?¡± ¡°I think if half the stories about me were true, my life would be a nonstop orgy,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''ve never met the girls, that courier we just spoke to, claims people think I slept with, and I practice safe sex. Has anyone considered a galactic market paternity test before trying and convicting me?¡± Crazy Steve studied him. ¡°You''re the psychic, Ian. I think you should look up these girls and find out what''s going on. If their stories are true, they could use your help.¡± Ian pounded the jeep''s dash with his fist. ¡°I don''t have time for this shit! I can sense monsters massing near that asshole Bradley''s territory. Two days at the most before they attack.¡± Crazy Steve finished his cigarette and tossed what was left out the window. ¡°Ian. We''ve talked about Zen philosophy before. Nobody can tell you your life''s meaning. You have to figure it out for yourself. You''ve spent the last four years hunting and killing alien monsters. Is that all you want your life to mean?¡± ¡°Key to winning this game is out there someplace,¡± Ian said. ¡°I got to kill the right monster.¡± ¡°What if it''s not the key, Ian? Seems like the more monsters you kill, the more monsters BG makes. But I know you like helping people, Ian. Why don''t you settle down, focus on making this world better for everyone?¡± ¡°Why don''t you shut the hell up,¡± Ian said. Then he sighed. ¡°Sorry, Steve. I''m frustrated, and you may be right. But Gabe is finally getting the hang of wizardry. Once he brings Stacy back, I''ll rethink my strategy. In the meantime, this monster gathering is going to be huge, nothing like the two Kitykity we killed last week. To be honest, Steve, I''m a little scared. Asshole or not, Captain Bradley needs our help.¡± Crazy Steve rolled a new cigarette. ¡°If that''s how you feel.¡± ¡°It is.¡± Ian looked out the window, studying the drone that now hovered above them. ¡°Unfortunately, they know my power doesn''t effect electronics. Not directly.¡± Ian smiled and waved at the drone. An alien pterodactyl swooped down, grabbed the drone, and flew off with it. There was the sound of gunfire from Captain Bradley''s men in the distance, trying to shoot down the drone thief. ¡°You did that?¡± Crazy Steve asked. Ian chuckled. ¡°Just keeping them on their toes, Steve. Let''s go. We got a long drive ahead of us.¡± Chapter 22 - Disguise Chapter 22 4 Years Three Months Post Alien Apocalypse, or 0004 P.A.A. Disguise Ian''s Stat Sheet Name: Lord Ian Mind Master Age: 18 Physical Attributes: 3.2 With 10 being an Olympic athlete and 1 being an invalid in a wheelchair, you are 3.2. Mental Attributes: 7.9 With 10 being a super genius, and 1 being severely retarded, you are 7.9 Status among peers: Low If your peers hadn''t been eaten, they would still consider you a nerd and a spasticle. Spasticle is human slang for an uncoordinated clumsy person. Some irrational and misguided humans consider you dangerous because you killed people, and assisted in killing thousands of mildly dangerous aliens. I assure them any normal human could do the same or better. Claims to fame: If Coach Benson hadn''t been eaten, he would still consider you the worst player to try out in the fifty years he coached his little league baseball team. Four women believe they are pregnant with your child. If these unborn children were in fact yours, this would be a mark in your favor, but since they are not, it means you are a bigger loser than you were before. I had not thought this possible! Special abilities: Psychic. Advanced Level 3 specializing in aliens. Any other Advanced Level 3 psychic specializing in aliens would be doing far better than you. Oh, and a certain young princess (princess by election, not by birth) has lost all interest in you. She is with a young man who, unlike you, is a fine physical specimen, and not a loser. I have complimented her on her good taste. *** Ian sighed. Great. He and Crazy Steve had spent the previous day driving in a large circle around the town of Little, careful to avoid any electronic surveillance so they could hopefully enter the town from the opposite side undetected. ¡°This is where we are,¡± Ian said the next morning, using his finger to identify their location on his digital map. ¡°This is Little,¡± he pointed to a dot on the map about ten miles away. ¡°Many big scary monsters are approaching Little from every direction. I was thinking of following the monsters into town, but I have no idea what they''re planning to do. All I know is they have me scared. If I can''t defend this town, I don''t think there''ll be much of a town left when this is over. But thanks to Captain Bradley being an asshole, we''re going to need disguises to sneak inside.¡± ¡°I know all about disguises, Ian. Did I mention I used to work for the CIA?¡± Crazy Steve asked. ¡°A few times,¡± Ian said. ¡°I don''t think I could pull off being a girl, Steve,¡± Ian said half an hour later, while covering his beat-up old red Jeep with tree branches. ¡°I''m thinking we can go as a couple of scavengers. They''re common enough, nobody notices them." ¡°Wait!¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°What about our displays?¡± ¡°Good point,¡± Ian said. He could disguise his face and body, but there was no known way to cover up BG''s display. Every human had one, revealing their name and occupation. The display would pop up in the mind of anyone requesting to see it. Ian''s display said Lord Ian Mind Master. His companion''s, for some reason, said Awesome Steve, Alien Killing Machine. ¡°Fortunately, I''m pretty sure there''s no way to pull up displays through a camera or telescope. I can cast a psychic illusion that will cause anyone nearby pulling up our displays, to see Jeb, Stupid Scavenger, and Earl, Stupid Scavenger''s Assistant.¡± ¡°That is impressive,¡± Crazy Steve said, pulling out a disguise kit. ¡°But if we get recognized, they''re going to kill you, and probably me, so hat and sunglasses are not going to cut it. You can''t dress like Ian, walk like Ian, talk like Ian, move like Ian, and definitely not look like Ian.¡± ¡°You pack a disguise kit?¡± Ian asked. ¡°Knowing you, I figured we''d need it,¡± Crazy Steve replied. To Ian''s surprise, the old man knew what he was doing. Soon Ian''s hair was gray, his face looked wrinkled and aged, his nose plugged up, and something stuck to the roof of his mouth, to give him a speech impediment. He was dressed in some of Crazy Steve''s old clothes, wore some of the man''s cast-off armor, and an old pair of boots that were too large for his feet. Crazy Steve gave himself an enlarged nose, and a noticeable birthmark on his right cheek. Ian studied himself with a handheld mirror. He had to admit; he looked like one of those old scavengers he''d seen, just another old man, trying to get by in a post-apocalypse world. ¡°Put this rock in your right boot,¡± Crazy Steve said, ¡°That will change how you walk.¡± ¡°That''s going to hurt,¡± Ian said. ¡°That''s the idea. It''ll give you a limp. Now one last thing. If you want to pass yourself off as a scavenger, you need to do some scavenging. I used to be a scavenger before we hooked up. Come on.¡± Crazy Steve led him down a path to a group of abandoned houses. Thanks to the rock in his right boot, Ian was soon limping. ¡°Now these houses were picked clean a long time ago, but they should give you a feel for the scavenging life. Your pry-bar is your friend: it can open doors and windows, test walls and floors for hiding spaces, and kill low level aliens. Scavengers don''t waste ammo. Save your gun for emergencies, and if we meet anyone, let me do the talking. You''re Earl, my cousin, who I''m showing the ropes.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± Ian said. Thanks to the alterations to his nose and mouth, it came out as ¡°Ogay.¡± It was a strange feeling entering an abandoned house. His heavy iron crowbar felt comforting. They killed the few aliens they found there with their crowbars. That is, Crazy Steve did most of the killing. Even after four years'' practice, Ian sucked at club-wielding.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. The house had been picked clean, torn-up books and broken furniture littered the floor. Ian found a picture of a family and wondered what happened to them. In one bedroom, Ian saw something that made him laugh. Next to an open safe were scattered hundred-dollar bills whoever cleaned out this place had left behind. ¡°Used to be you could hold on to those and exchange them to BG for a credit or two,¡± Crazy Steve said when he saw the money. ¡°But BG quit doing that over three years ago.¡± Crazy Steve went to check out the backyard and let out a cry of joy. ¡°I was hoping we''d find one of these!¡± Ian went out to look. He found the old man examining a beat-up wooden cart. ¡°I figure scavengers ditched this for something better... or they got eaten.¡± Crazy Steve tried to pull it. The cart rolled a couple of feet, letting out a horrible squeak. ¡°Still works. No scavenger can afford a motor vehicle, so we''ll use this to carry our stuff.¡± *** ¡°Scavenging sucks,¡± Ian said, but it came out as ¡°Thavenge thucth.¡± He limped along pulling the crappy old cart, now loaded with weapons they''d disguised as junk, and a bit of food, water, and a few other things they thought might be useful, like toothbrushes, toilet paper, and of course a roll of Monster Tape. He wished he''d gone along with Crazy Steve''s first suggestion, that he go as the man''s ugly granddaughter. His right foot hurt, his armor chafed him in strange places, and the afternoon sun was hot. A couple of motor vehicles drove by the two of them, going through the gated checkpoint. But Ian and Crazy Steve had to stand at the end of a line of people on foot. A drone passed overhead. Ian was careful to keep his head down, no point in taking chances. ¡°Haven''t seen you guys before,¡± said a one-armed old man with a large pack. ¡°Name''s Jeb. From Texas originally. Came down to Poltrey, looking for work. That''s when the aliens invaded,¡± Crazy Steve said, speaking with a Texas accent. ¡°Heard a guy here called The Mechanic pays well for good weapons.¡± ¡°For good weapons, yeah,¡± the one-armed man said, looking dubiously at the junk in their cart. ¡°I used to live in Poltrey. Do you know Nicolas Morales?¡± Crazy Steve was about to shake his head, but Ian read the man''s mind and nodded quickly, ¡°Yeh, Mista. Tiny! Nithe guy.¡± ¡°This is Earl, my cousin,¡± Crazy Steve said, introducing Ian. The next half hour in line was nerve-wracking, but between Ian''s mind-reading and Crazy Steve''s disguises, their cover held. ¡°You want to know where the real money is?¡± asked a skinny guy in a wheelchair. ¡°Drugs. There''s this alchemist kid Pete, who worked in a meth lab before the invasion. Pete figured aliens or no aliens, people are going to need drugs, right? So he had BG make him an alchemist. He invented this stuff he calls Formula B. Galactic Market don''t sell it, and just a little will take you to outer-space!¡± ¡°If they catch you with that stuff around here, they''ll kill you,¡± said the one-armed man. ¡°Apparently, just because aliens invaded, Captain Bradley gets to suspend our Constitutional rights. Total bullshit.¡± There were general sounds of agreement. The skinny guy in a wheelchair pulled out some blue pendants with swirls going through them. ¡°I''m selling these lucky pendants. Thanks to these lucky pendants, I only lost my legs in the last alien attack. They disrupt BG''s brainwaves, screws up her monster aim.¡± ¡°Wow!¡± Crazy Steve said, ¡°how much are you asking?¡± Ian forced himself to keep quiet as the two started haggling, but made a mental note to look up Pete the alchemist. Maybe Pete and Gabe could exchange notes. ¡°You guys heard Ian Anderson tried to sneak into town yesterday?¡± the one-armed man asked. There was silence. ¡°Dumbass. Heard he knocked up twenty women last week, lucky bastard,¡± someone else said. ¡°Hey!¡± the skinny guy in the wheelchair, ¡°Ian Anderson is a fucking hero. He shows up, monsters leave, and the story I heard is, BG made him do that. She wants him to repopulate the human race or something.¡± All the men looked at each other, and for a second there was silence. ¡°Sure. Story I heard was Captain Bradley and his men came to an agreement,¡± the one-armed man said. ¡°After they execute him, they''re going to string him up so his right hand is over his head. That way everyone who wants to, can high-five his dead body for luck.¡± There was some laughter. Ian sighed. Great. *** ¡°Names, and business,¡± a bored looking guard said, when they''d finally gotten to the end of the line. ¡°Jeb, and Earl Gracy,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°We heard The Mechanic pays good money for good weapons.¡± The guard looked at the junk in their cart. ¡°Yeah, but The Mechanic is a busy young man. Why don''t you guys check out our soup kitchen. Two blocks down, on your left, get yourselves something to eat. Plenty of work around here, if you''re willing to work hard and stay out of trouble. Stay on the roads and paths. Anywhere else and you risk alien traps. Next!¡± And they were in the town of Little, Captain Bradley''s territory. Ian felt a psychic probe. A fellow psychic was sniffing around. He was sure whoever it was hadn''t noticed him. Ian had yet to meet anyone who even came close to his abilities. Because of Captain Bradley''s hostility towards psychics, any psychic nearby would have to keep their abilities a secret, and Ian wouldn''t give them away without a good reason. The road they were on led to a makeshift central fort surrounded by walls made from whatever the townspeople could get their hands on. It looked like a smaller version of the Fortress, with guard towers everywhere bristling with guns. This whole area felt relaxed. There hadn''t been any significant monster sightings in over a month. All the guards were bored, and people were wondering if the worst of the alien apocalypse was over. Ian laughed to himself. Keep dreaming. To Ian''s left were farms, and the smell of animals and manure. To his right was rocky desert, where, at the edge of the barbed wire fencing surrounding the town, he saw a cluster of three pickup trucks next to a larger cargo truck that was backed into a narrow canyon. Ian sensed they were a group of bored bibi wranglers. He wasn''t sure what they wanted with bibis, Bibis were low-level aliens that tended to travel in packs. A group of them could cut a human to shreds in seconds. He pulled out his binoculars. One wrangler was bouncing rocks off the helmet of a much smaller wrangler. The smaller wrangler, covered head to toe in armor, let out a howl that even at this distance reminded Ian of fingernails on a chalkboard. She picked up the back of the pickup truck, tossed it to the side, and rushed the first wrangler. The smaller wrangler was Captain Bradley''s youngest granddaughter, Tomitha. Crazy Steve noticed her too. ¡°Isn''t she great? We could really use her help out there.¡± ¡°Noa,¡± Ian shuddered, shaking his head. Without armor, Tomitha looked like a cross between a hairless dwarf and a pug bulldog. He wouldn''t hold her looks against her if she was at all nice, but she was also one of the dumbest, most annoying brats he''d ever had the misfortune to meet. Last time they''d been here, she''d picked up his Jeep and threw it into a ditch. Her grandfather, to his credit, had made her bring the Jeep back and paid for repairs. But the incident still left a bad taste in his mouth. Ashley, the middle granddaughter, age 14, was also with the bibi wranglers, suggesting nobody believed they were in any danger. Ian sensed laughter from the wranglers. They were just kids having fun. Out of curiosity, he mentally searched for the oldest granddaughter. Teresa, age 16, was back at the fort, learning to play the piano. The whole area gave off a calm, relaxed feeling. So why did Ian get a strong feeling he wasn''t the only one watching the bibi wranglers, and something very bad was about to go down? A broken-down house on Ian''s left had a sign in the yard. Home of the Giant Monster Sausage! Made on Earth. No alien ingredients. An old woman sat at a counter in front of the house, arguing with a customer. ¡°But your sausage glows in the dark!¡± the customer shouted. ¡°Of course it glows in the dark,¡± the old lady snapped. ¡°That''s how you know it''s good.¡± Near the makeshift fort was a large sign that said Training Pits. People around the pits cheered. Not feeling hungry, Ian left Crazy Steve with the guy in the wheelchair and joined the crowd around the pits to see what was going on. What he saw was a circular dirt pit, about thirty feet wide and ten feet deep, covered with heavy iron grating. Inside was a boy around ten years old with a large knife. On the other side of the pit was a large steel trailer rocking back and forth, with bulges on its sides made by whatever was inside. A couple of men raised the door to the trailer just enough for an alien bibi to slide out and down into the pit. The five-foot-tall, cylindrical, alien bibi had two legs on the opposite ends of its body, and it moved like a demonically possessed slinky. It pulled itself upright, beeped angrily, and bounced toward the kid. At the last instant, the boy dodged a razor-sharp heel spur, and slashed it with his knife. The bibi bounced off the dirt wall and attacked again. ¡°It''s not what you think,¡± said a middle-aged woman standing next to him. ¡°You think we''re exploiting children, but it''s the opposite. Children get way more credits and stat points fighting aliens than adults would, and this way we can help him out if things get dangerous.¡± She bent over the pit and banged the iron grating with a stick. ¡°Go, Alex! You can do it!¡± Alex dodged the bibi again; then he moved in and stabbed one of the bibi''s five central eyes, driving his knife in up to the hilt. With one last plaintive beep, the alien died and vanished. The audience cheered. The boy climbed a ladder on the side of the pit, and a section of heavy grating was pulled away so he could get out. Another child dropped into the pit, taking his place. ¡°How mady kidth ged killd don dere?¡± Ian asked. ¡°If kids can''t handle the pit, how long do you think they''ll survive out there?¡± the woman asked, pointing at the desert. ¡°At least in the pits my kid can learn to fight, earn credits and stat points in a controlled environment. If he does well enough, he''ll get apprenticed to the military.¡± ¡°I met a little five-year-old girl who made a thousand credits, and five stat points for clearing out an alien-cockroach crunchy nest,¡± a second woman said. ¡°A crunchy nest! Can you believe it? Of course they almost killed her, but that''s how things are now.¡± ¡°Say what you like about Captain Bradley, but he likes kids, Earl,¡± Crazy Steve said, joining Ian. ¡°I heard he used to toss his own granddaughters into the pits, to teach them to survive!¡± ¡°Whad a guy,¡± Ian said. Crazy Steve held up two blue swirly pendants and handed one to Ian. ¡°I got Ted down to ten credits apiece for these good luck charms. Figure we need all the luck we can get.¡± ¡°Graid,¡± Ian said. Machine guns fired in the distance. The siren started blaring. There were screams. Ian sensed aliens and humans in the distance, fighting and dying. People nearby looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. Others rushed for the fort entrance. Ian got a sick feeling in his stomach as he sensed the monsters beginning their attack. This time around, Kitykity would be the least of his problems. Ian spat out the thing in his mouth and removed his nose plugs. He pulled Crazy Steve to the side. ¡°It''s starting.¡± Chapter 23 - Battle Chapter 23 4 Years Three Months Post Alien Apocalypse, or 0004 P.A.A Battle There were roars from advancing ogre-like tumtums. Instead of carrying boulders, they carried smaller aliens. When the tumtums got closer, they threw the smaller aliens at the fort and into the surrounding town. Alarms blared. Monsters roared. People screamed. Machine guns and cannons fired. The term for what was happening was Shitshow. Ian watched the confusion from his location outside the fort near the center of the town of Little, in front of the fighting pits. Townsfolk ran in all directions, trying to reach the fort, or seeking other shelter. Soldiers and militia grabbed weapons to repel the invading aliens. Ian reached out with his gift to locate the source of the attack. Where was the alien in charge? A giant, multilegged, spider-like alien approached the town of Little, towering over everything around it. Millions of web-like threads came out of it, picking up unfortunate humans and cocooning them for future consumption. No. Not that one. Three flares went up from the desert. The universal distress signal. The bibi wranglers Ian had seen earlier were in trouble, and not from the bibis. One of the wranglers, Ashley, had been riding down the canyon on a dirt bike at breakneck speed, chased by hundreds of bibis. Her job was to get the bibis to follow her into the canyon so they could be forced into the large truck waiting for them. She''d spotted a young Kitykity waiting for her, hiding behind some boulders, its stubby tail poked up in the air as it squeaked and bounced up and down from excitement. Trapped between a Kitykity and hundreds of charging bibis, Ashley had let out a psychic cry for help, possibly not realizing she''d done so. Captain Bradley''s second granddaughter, Ashley had a weak psychic gift. Ian, of course, knew this but kept it to himself. As long as she behaved, he had no intention of giving her away. Dropping his psychic concealment that allowed him to approach psychic aliens undetected, he mind spoke. ¡°Back off! The girl is with me.¡± Usually when he did this, the Kitykity would run away, or attack him. This time the Kitykity ignored him. Great, Ian thought. A big troop carrier tore out of the fort, honking loudly, forcing people on the road to jump aside. As it drove past Ian, he sensed it was Captain Bradley going to aid the bibi wranglers. Sounds of many different monsters filled the air. A dragon flying toward Little had its head blown off by the fort''s cannons. Dragons following the first took evasive action. A mother called for her missing child. This was something Ian had experience with. Without thinking, he reached out with his gift, found the kid, and put the child''s location into the mother''s mind. Cannons from the fort blasted away at the attacking aliens with deadly effect. A tumtum''s head was blown apart. One by one, the approaching giant alien-spider''s legs were destroyed. With a chittering cry, the dying alien-spider''s body crashed to the ground. The town of Little had better guns than the Fortress. Ian made a mental note to find out how they did this. The bibis trapped in their metal cage next to the fighting pits bounced up and down like demonically possessed slinkys, so excited by what was happening that they knocked over their steel cage. Thankfully, they couldn''t escape. ¡°We are under attack; all noncombatants to the nearest shelter!¡± someone shouted over the siren. Ted, the crippled lucky-pendant salesman, was knocked off his wheelchair by the crowd rushing up the hill to the safety of the fort. He cried for help, but was ignored until Ian and Crazy Steve ran over to assist him. More roars, and the thud thud of tumtum giants getting closer, along with explosions when they stepped on the land mines set out for them. By the time Ian and Crazy Steve had gotten Ted back in his wheelchair, the gate to the fort had closed. A crowd of angry people pounded on the door, trying to get in. Others looked desperately for cover. Tentacled aliens rained from the sky, thrown by the tumtum-giants. One knocked Ted off his wheelchair, again. Ted killed it with a pistol, resulting in green slime on everything near it, including Ted. The tentacled aliens turned into appliances as soon as they hit the ground. The boy, Alex, a knife in each hand, attacked an alien toaster. The toaster backed away, using the many tiny tentacles coming out its bottom. It was joined by a blender and a small refrigerator. ¡°Go Alex!¡± his mother shouted. ¡°Get those stat points!¡± Alex engaged three aliens with impressive speed. Every time Alex slashed one with his knives, green slime sprayed everywhere. Ian felt a horrible pain in his right leg. He turned to see a microwave oven jumping away from him. After biting him, it sat there, looking innocent. Ian screamed, and swung at the microwave with his pry-bar, only to miss. Crazy Steve blasted the microwave with his shotgun. It died in another explosion of green slime. ¡°Wake up Earl!¡± Crazy Steve shouted, using Ian''s pseudonym. ¡°We got to get to safety!¡± Ian cursed, trying to get slime out of his eyes. It wasn''t dangerous, but he''d have to get new clothes when this was over. ¡°This attack is a distraction!¡± he shouted. ¡°The real threat is over there.¡± He motioned toward the distant bibi wranglers in the desert. Even at this distance, it was obvious they and Captain Bradley''s men were in serious trouble. Crazy Steve threw their roll of Monster tape at Ian. ¡°Tape up your leg!¡± Ian wrapped his leg with Monster tape to stop the bleeding. They had to get to the bibi wranglers, and there wasn''t time to walk. He pulled up the Galactic Market. Cheap-ass, solar-powered all-terrain vehicle, for loser humans who can''t afford better, 20,000 credits ¡°Buy,¡± Ian said. Would you like the yellow paint job? It will make you look less like a loser. 2000 credits. This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Just give me the fucking truck now!¡± Ian could swear he heard The Galactic-Market sniff contemptuously as 20,000 credits vanished from his inventory, and a small dull gray truck appeared in front of him. ¡°Oh, my god! You''re Ian Anderson! I knew you looked familiar!¡± Ted shouted. He''d somehow gotten back on his wheelchair and had seen Ian buy the truck. ¡°Could you not tell everyone?¡± Ian snapped. ¡°Steve! Get the big gun! The one Gabe gave us!¡± Ian watched nervously as people looked back at him. Fortunately, they were too occupied with monsters to stop and talk. ¡°We were saving that for emergencies!¡± Steve said. ¡°That gun''s got two shots at most!¡± ¡°Yes! Try to keep up! Serious shit is going down! I hope Gabe was telling the truth about how powerful that thing is.¡± ¡°Take me with you!¡± Ted shouted. ¡°You''re safer here, and have we met before today? I don''t recognize you at all.¡± Ian said. A large, tentacled alien slammed into the ground next to Ted before bouncing away and turning into a dishwasher. ¡°A couple years ago in Barren Falls, I was in a crowd,¡± Ted responded. ¡°Come on, Ian, you need all the help you can get, and you know I''m lucky.¡± ¡°He''s got you there,¡± Crazy Steve said, throwing their stuff into the back of the truck, careful to put the big gun (small cannon) on top where he could get to it quickly. ¡°Fine. Don''t come crying to me if you get eaten,¡± Ian said. They hoisted Ted and his wheelchair into the back of the truck with the rest of their stuff. Crazy Steve took the wheel and floored it. Taking the same route as Captain Bradley, they approached the canyon entrance; it was clear the wranglers, along with Bradley''s men, were in shambles. Bibis were everywhere, bouncing up and down and trying to cut humans to shreds with their razor sharp heel spurs. A subterranean giant worm-creature with way too many teeth, came out of the ground tossing trucks aside as it did so. Bodies of slower or less-fortunate humans lay on the ground. The remainder of Captain Bradley''s troops were spread out, fighting off the aliens the best they could. A pile of smaller aliens exploded outward. The four-foot-tall Tomi emerged from the alien pile, kicking aside several aliens, picking up a bibi and slamming it against the ground, then throwing it over a hundred feet. She produced a rocket launcher larger than herself and fired. One of the subterranean worm''s heads exploded. Its second and third heads came out of the ground, only to be destroyed the same way seconds later. People cheered. ¡°That''s Tomi the Tank, town champion!¡± Ted said from the back of the truck. ¡°She''s fucking amazing.¡± Tomi put away the rocket launcher and produced an equally large machine gun, somehow aiming and firing it with little effort, clearing the immediate area of rampaging bibi and other low-level aliens. Ian sensed the psychic girl Ashley had been joined by a young man who''d driven into the canyon and rammed the Kitykity with his pickup truck. Both of them were fighting for their lives. In the distance, Ian sensed numerous people in similar situations. He wished them all luck. If he didn''t deal with the threat here in front of him, a lot more people would die. Ian and his companions pulled up in time to see five Kitykity approaching. All five were huge, the largest and oldest Ian had encountered. They were covered with battle scars and carried themselves with a dignity their younger brethren lacked. Words formed in all the humans'' minds. PATHETIC HUMANS, IF YOUR CHAMPION CAN DEFEAT OURS, WE WILL LEAVE AND LET YOU LIVE. IF NOT, WE WILL CRUSH YOU. ¡°Quit fucking around and kill those things!¡± Captain Bradley shouted through a Galactic Market megaphone. His men opened fire. A rocket fired by Tomi flew towards the Kitykity but was deflected at the last second by Kitykity mental abilities. The rocket flew off and exploded in the distance. All the humans stopped moving. Everyone, except for Tomi and Ian, was paralyzed. TO MAKE THIS A FAIR CONTEST, OUR CHAMPION WON''T USE ITS MENTAL ABILITIES ON YOUR CHAMPION. The alien champion, the largest, oldest, and scariest looking of the five Kitykity, stepped forward. Ian reached into his inventory for his Kityskin armor. It appeared, covering his body like a second skin underneath his clothes and the makeshift armor he''d gotten from Crazy Steve. Ian jumped out of the truck, ran towards the alien champion, limping badly. His right leg hurt where he''d been bitten, and he still had the rock in his boot that he''d been meaning to remove but hadn''t had the time. He kept going, stumbling over rocks and cactus, passing Tomi. ¡°Ian! What the fuck are you doing here?¡± Tomi shouted as Ian limped by her. The town champion had no idea what was going on, and Ian had neither the time, nor inclination, to explain. Ian ran up to the Kitykity champion and stopped. The huge Kitykity towered over Ian, its face inches away. ¡°RARRR! GO AWAY!¡± ¡°I understand if you don''t want to play!¡± Ian shouted. ¡°I know humans are frightening! It''s only natural for you to hide!¡± For a long moment, nothing happened. Then Ian sensed something. ¡°HE HE HE HE,¡± it wasn''t a nice mental giggle. It was a scary psychotic mental giggle. ¡°YOU MISUNDERSTAND, HUMAN. I AM BEHIND THE KITYKITY BECAUSE NO HUMAN IS WORTHY TO FACE ME IN COMBAT.¡± The alien champion Kitykity was levitated into the air and moved to one side. The being that had just mind-spoken came forward. It was a gold sphere the size of a basketball. It stopped a few feet from Ian. Its display popped up. This is a Happy Bouncy. If you are not terrified, you are stupid. Ian wasn''t stupid. A U-shaped indentation formed on the side of the gold sphere facing Ian. ¡°I AM SMILING. I SMILE LIKE HUMANS DO, TO COMMUNICATE A LACK OF IMMEDIATE HOSTILE INTENT.¡± Ian forced his lips into a semblance of a smile. ¡°I am smiling too, in order to show my lack of hostile intent.¡± The Happy Bouncy bobbed up and down. It seemed pleased. ¡°I STUDY HUMANS. I BELIEVE IF THIS TOWN''S CHAMPION IS KILLED, THE SURVIVING HUMANS OF THIS COMMUNITY WILL LOSE ALL HOPE AND WILL RUN AND HIDE, MAKING THEM EASY PREY FOR MY ALIEN ARMY. I WISH TO OBSERVE THIS.¡± ¡°That is fascinating,¡± Ian mind spoke. ¡°You wish to kill this champion with your Kitykity, and see what happens?¡± ¡°YES. YOU ARE NOT PART OF THIS HUMAN COMMUNITY. YOU ARE INTERFERING WITH MY RESEARCH.¡± ¡°I apologize and will run away as fast as I can, because you are terrifying. That is what any rational human would do.¡± The Happy Bouncy bobbed up and down happily. The small alien''s knowledge of humankind seemed to be increasing. ¡°YES. THAT IS RATIONAL. DO THAT NOW.¡± ¡°I will.¡± Ian turned away like he was about to run, then he turned back. ¡°But perhaps you didn''t know there are five psychics in town who are much stronger than I am. They will certainly take exception to your research.¡± For a short time, the alien focused its attention elsewhere. During their mental conversation, Ian had been studying the new alien. It was much stronger than the Kitykity it ordered around. Stronger than Ian, but at the same time, it felt young, inexperienced, and unskilled. Ian was very experienced and skilled. ¡°YOU ARE INCORRECT. THERE IS ONLY ONE PSYCHIC IN TOWN WITH SIGNIFICANT STRENGTH, AND HE IS FAR WEAKER THAN YOU.¡± During the alien''s distraction, Ian pushed past its mind-shield. ¡°Not incorrect. Just lying.¡± Ian mentally dodged its attacks as it tried to push him out. He fought to keep control of the alien, knowing if he failed, he was dead. ¡°And you should also know, humans are not rational.¡± ¡°I DON''T UNDERSTAND, YOU HAVE FORFEITED YOUR LIFE FOR NO REASON.¡± ¡°You''d have killed me later.¡± ¡°YOU HAD NO WAY OF KNOWING THAT WAS MY INTENTION,¡± the Happy Bouncy responded. A shock-wave blasted Ian, but thanks to his psychic maneuvering, the main force of the attack hit the Kitykity champion, sending it flying over fifty feet in the air. Tomi took the opportunity to fire a rocket, blowing the Kitykity champion apart. As it died, Ian sensed a piece of it flying off and landing in the distant rocks. A second Kitykity was cut in half when Ian took control of the Happy Bouncy''s psychic weaponry for a fraction of a second. The Kitykity died instantly. The alien''s fight to free itself from Ian''s control intensified. It lifted Ian twenty feet in the air and slammed him to the ground. His armor protected him, mostly. He fought to stay conscious. A second rocket from Tomi killed a third Kitykity. Ian''s nose bled profusely, and his head was about to explode, but quitting was not an option. A psychokinetic blast from the Happy Bouncy sent everything around it flying backward. A wave of fire missed Ian, hitting a fourth Kitykity. Tomi took advantage of the distraction to shoot the fourth wounded Kitykity, killing it. The fifth ran away. The other humans in the area realized they were no longer paralyzed and opened fire. A few stray bullets hit Ian, but his armor protected him. Bullets bounced off the spherical alien but did no damage. Ian felt Ted and Crazy Steve fire the big gun. They missed. A distant hillside exploded, showering everyone with rocks. The alien sensed Ian weakening and redoubled its efforts to regain control. Crazy Steve and Ted were arguing about how to fire the big gun. They somehow fired it a second time. Tomi fired too. Both shots hit the Happy Bouncy at the same time. The shockwave from the resulting explosion sent Ian flying again. That was the last he knew for a while. Chapter 24 - Rescue Chapter 24 4 Years and Three Months Post Alien Apocalypse, or 0004 P.A.A. Rescue Ian woke to the sound of men arguing. His head was pounding, he wanted to vomit, and he was starving. ¡°We are not here to hurt Ian Anderson,¡± an unknown voice said. ¡°Besides, if we wanted to kill you, you''d be dead already,¡± said a second voice. ¡°Try it,¡± said Crazy Steve. ¡°Easy, easy! That''s enough, Levi,¡± said the first voice. ¡°We didn''t come here to threaten you guys. My name''s Frank, and Captain Bradley sent us. We need Ian''s help and it can''t wait.¡± Ian groaned and opened his eyes. He was in an unfamiliar bed in the corner of a large room. From the way the sun hit the dusty shutters on a broken window, he could tell the sun was setting. He sensed he''d been unconscious for just over a day. His nose had stopped bleeding, but his head was killing him, and his bones and skin itched from regen treatments. The usual. Crazy Steve and Ted were both pointing guns at two people at the door Ian didn''t recognize. One of the two wore Kityskin armor. ¡°When Ian overexerts himself, he needs a few days for his brain to shut down and reset,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°We don''t know why, he just does.¡± ¡°And Ian didn''t do any of that stuff you''ve accused him of,¡± said Ted. Ted had regrown his legs while Ian was unconscious. ¡°With good healing boosters, your legs grew back in what, two hours?¡± said Levi, the one in Kityskin armor. ¡°It''s been over a day. What could take Ian so long to recover from?¡± Ian rolled out of bed and slowly got to his feet. ¡°I have more than enough strength to kill you guys and the two men you''ve got outside watching this house. My head hurts like hell, so I''m not in the mood to take any shit.¡± ¡°We apologize for inconveniencing you, sir, but this is an emergency,¡± said Frank. He was older and wore the uniform of Captain Bradley''s men. He pulled out a cell-phone, punched in a number, then walked over and placed the phone on the old wooden table sitting near the center of the room. ¡°Ian, is that you? This is Captain Bradley.¡± His voice came out on speaker-phone. ¡°What do you want?¡± Ian asked, sitting back down on his bed. ¡°Tomi was kidnapped, and we need your help to get her back. Obviously, I wouldn''t come to you if I wasn''t desperate.¡± ¡°Something kidnapped Tomi?¡± Crazy Steve asked. ¡°I thought the monsters cleared out once we killed that shiny-ball thing.¡± ¡°This monster is a boy. A psychic, around Ian''s age, named Clancy Woodrow. We thought he was a traveling musician and a good one. I''ve been speaking to his foster parents, and it seems he''s responsible for the pregnancies Ian''s been accused of. Clancy was also using his power to control his foster parents. They want him dead as much as I do.¡± ¡°You wouldn''t let me into your shitty town, but you''ll welcome this a-hole,¡± Ian said. ¡°I get the pregnancy part, but why would Clancy kidnap Tomi and ditch his foster parents?¡± ¡°Because when he tried to sneak into my oldest granddaughter''s bedroom last night, Ashley, my middle granddaughter, raised the alarm and tried to stop him. He fractured her skull in a fight. We think he panicked after that, grabbed Tomi, and with Tomi''s help, he had no problem blasting through our checkpoints. Thanks to all the alien monsters Tomi killed yesterday, she has a lot of credits to spend on supplies and ammunition.¡± ¡°Not sure what you want from us,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°Why hasn''t one of your snipers taken Clancy out already?¡± ¡°Because Clancy gave us the slip,¡± Captain Bradley said, ¡°and the longer this guy gets to run, the harder it''s going to be for us to track him down, and the more time he has with... Please Ian I''m begging you, I''ll give you whatever you want, just get Tomi back.¡± ¡°I''ll do it, but you owe me big,¡± Ian said. ¡°You need more rest, Ian.¡± Crazy Steve pulled out a ten-pound sausage from his pack and slammed it on the old wooden table. In addition to a faint glow, the sausage had insect-like legs coming out of it that waved helplessly. ¡°Who wants monster-sausage?¡± he asked. ¡°I picked some up when we left town yesterday.¡± ¡°Please, I''m starving,¡± Levi said. ¡°I''ll take some,¡± Ted said. ¡°Best sausage in the world. They think some aliens got into the meat-grinder in the sausage plant, but if anything it''s improved the taste.¡± ¡°I''d hate to see the world''s worst sausage,¡± Ian said. He threw on some clothes and staggered over to the others, grabbing the table to keep himself upright. ¡°You are not up to this, Ian. You need more rest,¡± Crazy Steve said. The monster sausage seemed to agree, letting out a high-pitched squeak as Crazy Steve chopped pieces off it with a meat cleaver. ¡°I''m fine,¡± Ian responded. He pulled an old chocolate bar from his pocket he''d been saving for such an emergency, took a bite, and then placed his map of the area on the table. ¡°I can feel Clancy. He''s here,¡± he pointed at a road. ¡°He stopped for a few hours to let his Galactic Market Land Rover recharge and get some sleep. He''s scared, heading in a southwest direction, trying to find a distant community with no psychics in it.¡± ¡°If he keeps going that way,¡± Frank said. ¡°We should be able to cut him off at Pieville.¡± He pointed at a more distant location on the map. ¡°We can get there in a few days.¡± ¡°That town had the best pies. Suppose they''re still in business?¡± Ted asked, stuffing some still squeaking monster sausage into his mouth. ¡°Last I heard, aliens ate them all. It''s a ghost town,¡± Frank said.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°I wish there was a faster way,¡± Captain Bradley said, studying the map through his phone''s Monster-Vision app, ¡°but I''m not seeing a choice. Let''s get moving.¡± ¡°You see how the road he''s driving on curves and loops around,¡± Ian said. ¡°If we could fly over this mountain range here, we''d catch Clancy in two or three hours.¡± ¡°We have neither pilot nor plane that could do that,¡± Captain Bradley said, ¡°and flying at night with a Galactic Market airplane is suicide at the best of times. Good thinking, though.¡± ¡°I used to be in the Air Force,¡± Crazy Steve said, though a mouthful of squeaking sausage. ¡°But I wasn''t much of a pilot. I mostly fixed stuff and... uh, I can''t help you, sorry.¡± ¡°I have an idea,¡± Ian said, finishing his chocolate bar, tossing the wrapper to the side. ¡°There''s something I''ve wanted to try but haven''t, because it''s dangerous. You guys know where he is and the direction he''s heading. You should hit the road and try to catch up to him. I''m going to fly over that mountain range and cut him off that way.¡± ¡°I told you guys he needed more rest,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°Ian, you can''t fly!¡± That''s what you think. ¡°Don''t worry, I''ll be fine. Probably.¡± Ian left the house and reached out with his mind. He waved at the two men Captain Bradley had watching the house. He knew they were under strict orders to stay out of his way. They wouldn''t cause any problems. A pterodactyl-like flying thing swooped down. Amid startled shouts, it picked Ian up and flew away. *** Puppeteering an alien-pterodactyl was easy compared to a dragon, but the last time he''d puppeteered a dragon, he''d been at full strength. At present, he was twenty percent at best. Ian''s head pounded as he forced the alien to carry him in the right direction. He suspected a drop from this height would be fatal, even with the regen shots, but there was no way he was going to leave an eleven-year-old girl with that creepy bastard if he could help it. Even an eleven-year-old as annoying as Tomi. The setting sun fell below the horizon, and the evening turned into night. The next few hours felt like an eternity as he fought psychically with the pterodactyl-like alien that wanted to kill and eat him. To make things worse, its claws dug deep into his shoulders, hurting like hell and causing his arms to go to sleep. He felt the two of them getting closer to where Clancy and Tomi had stopped. Tomi was in restraints and asleep. This meant the more dangerous of the two wouldn''t be a problem. It also meant Clancy wasn''t that confident in his ability to control his companion. That was a good sign. Ian and the alien-pterodactyl approached Clancy''s encampment. Flying closer to the ground, Ian was presented with another problem. The alien-pterodactyl needed a large flat space to land, and Ian wasn''t sure he had enough control to manage a landing, even if such a space could be found. Shots were fired, a bullet whizzed by Ian''s head. Shit! Clancy must have sensed Ian coming. Ian''s exhausting fight with the alien-pterodactyl had caused him to drop his concealment. Fortunately for Ian, Clancy couldn''t see him in the dark. Well, here goes nothing, Ian ordered the pterodactyl to swoop down over the camp as low as possible, and drop him. He tucked his arms and legs into a ball as he fell. He ordered the alien to attack Clancy, but Ian was too tired. His last mental command didn''t take. A crossbow bolt hit Ian in the same leg that had been bitten by the microwave shape-changer the day before. Ian bounced off the top of the Land Rover and slammed into a tree. With an angry screech, the alien-pterodactyl flew up over Clancy and away as fast as it could. Ow. Ian groaned, trying to stay conscious. That hurt. If Ian had been at full strength, he''d have mind-killed Clancy by now, but he was anything but, and Clancy was desperate. It was all Ian could do to hold Clancy still. ¡°Please let me go!¡± Clancy pleaded. ¡°I''m sorry! I didn''t mean to make those girls pregnant. I was lonely!¡± ¡°I get you using your gift to get laid,¡± Ian replied, ¡°but putting the blame on me? That is not cool.¡± Ian sensed the intense thrill the other boy felt sneaking into girl''s bedrooms. This boy''s issues would not be resolved with polite discourse and counseling. There was a screech of metal as Tomi tore free of her restraints and kicked open the passenger door to the Land Rover. It seemed Ian crashing into the top of the Land Rover had awoken Tomi. She walked over to where Ian lay on the ground. ¡°Ian Anderson? Is that you? Again?¡± ¡°I''m afraid so,¡± Ian choked out. Everything hurt now, including breathing. ¡°You know, following people around is creepy, right?¡± ¡°Your Grandfather sent me to rescue you,¡± Ian responded. ¡°Well, this is the lamest rescue ever,¡± she said. ¡°You suck at heroing.¡± Ian wondered how many ribs he''d broken in the fall. He took another pain-filled breath. ¡°If you don''t mind,¡± (breath) ¡°I''m trying to hold Clancy still,¡± (breath) ¡°with my gift, so he doesn''t kill me,¡± (another breath) ¡°and take off with you again.¡± ¡°Oh. Why didn''t you say so.¡± She picked up a small boulder and walked over to where Clancy was lying on the ground nearby. ¡°Please, please, I''m sorry!¡± Clancy said. ¡°Let me go and I''ll never bother you guys again!¡± ¡°I like to eat candy and kill aliens, and I''m out of candy,¡± she said. ¡°I''m not an alien!¡± ¡°Close enough.¡± Tomi brought the boulder down on Clancy with a sickening crunch. There was silence. Tomi returned to Ian. ¡°Lamest rescue ever.¡± Tomi looked down at him. She produced a psychic suppression helmet, put it over his head, then handcuffed his arms in front of him. ¡°Grandpa is always saying, ''If you see Ian Anderson, you get the hell away from him, and tell my men.'' You''re supposed to be big and scary. The guy nobody messes with.¡± She picked him up, ignoring his moans, and put him in the back of the newly battered, damaged Land Rover. ¡°You''re really weak. You didn''t land that hard. How many bones did you break?¡± ¡°Do you have to handcuff me?¡± Ian asked. ¡°I''m not stupid. Now where is Grandpa?¡± ¡°Could you pull the crossbow bolt from my leg?¡± Ian asked. She reached over and yanked it out. ¡°Ow,! We don''t count to three?¡± ¡°Oh, I''m sorry, I''ll put it back in your leg and we''ll try again,¡± she responded. ¡°That won''t be necessary. Captain Bradley knows we''re here. He''s on his way.¡± ¡°Then we wait,¡± she said. ¡°I got to ask. How did you end up with so much heavy weaponry?¡± Ian tried to get comfortable, hard enough to do without being forced to wear handcuffs and a bulky helmet. His head was killing him, his nose was bleeding. He felt the intense itch of regen treatments moving his bones back together. ¡°When I was in the blue room, I told BG I wanted to be like Pudgly Diamond, Alien Killer,¡± she said. ¡°As a girl, of course, guys are gross.¡± Ian laughed. ¡°That short fat guy who ate candy to regain health? I played that video game as a kid. He was so dumb. Because he couldn''t read, he was always saying ''That sign says uh. uh. Sign says go right in!'' whenever he saw a ''No Trespassing'' warning sign. He was always fighting aliens, or humans. Then there was the part where he went into this building called ''The Candy Shop'' and it turned out to be a brothel. That didn''t go so well.¡± ¡°He''s not dumb! Lots of people have trouble reading! Anyway, I was six, and Pudgly seemed like a good choice because he was always killing aliens, and people don''t mess with him because when they do, he breaks their heads. When I woke up that morning, I was super strong, and BG had loaned me a rocket launcher and machine gun I didn''t know what to do with. For the first few weeks, I''d bash the aliens with the rocket launcher.¡± ¡°But now you''re the town champion. Pretty impressive.¡± ¡°Thanks to Grandpa,¡± she said. ¡°When he found out I got good weaponry from BG that only worked for me, he had fake weapons made, so I could practice without wasting credits. Those galactic market rockets I use cost a thousand credits apiece. He also had me in the fighting pits, to get stat points and weapon upgrades.¡± ¡°You''ve gotten pretty good,¡± Ian said. ¡°I''m smart too. If someone calls me dumb, I hit them,¡± she said. ¡°That seems like the smart thing to do,¡± Ian agreed. ¡°I might have killed people last night. Clancy made me blast through checkpoints.¡± Tomi sounded like she was about to cry. ¡°Your grandfather didn''t say anything, but even if you did, it wasn''t you, it was Clancy, and he''s dead,¡± Ian said. ¡°I watched myself from a distance, doing what he wanted.¡± ¡°I''m sorry you had to go through that, Tomi.¡± Ian said. ¡°I wish I could have gotten here sooner. Look, when I overexert myself like this, I pass out for a while. I think I''m about to do that now.¡± ¡°No prob,¡± Tomi said. ¡°I''ll keep watch.¡± Chapter 25 - Aftermath Chapter 25 4 Years Three Months Post Alien Apocalypse, or 0004 P. A. A. Aftermath Sleeping in the back of the Land Rover, Ian was dimly aware of several vehicles showing up the next morning. His psychic helmet made his neck ache as he listened to a tearful family reunion with Tomi. Crazy Steve and Ted stopped them from waking Ian. Then the Land Rover was moving. The next time Ian awoke, he was in a bed. The handcuffs were gone, but the helmet was still firmly attached to his head. His nose wasn''t bleeding, his head only hurt a little, he was starving, and he really needed to go to the bathroom. There were no windows, but he could sense from the minds of people nearby that it was morning and a couple of days had gone by. He got up. One of the doors opened to a small washroom. After cleaning himself the best he could, he tried the room''s second door, only to find it was locked. He was being held prisoner. Ian could have freed himself through a number of means, but he had enough problems without Captain Bradley finding out how worthless his psychic suppression helmet was. He pounded on the door, ignoring the tiny camera looking down at him from the ceiling. There was a beeping noise next to his bed. Ian picked up the cell-phone, swiped past BG''s screensaver: Carpe de Alien. Seize that alien! And answered the phone. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Ian Anderson. I take it you''re feeling better.¡± ¡°Captain Bradley. Why am I locked up?¡± ¡°Well, Ian, we did what your friend Steve requested, which was to let you sleep off whatever it is you were dealing with. Steve''s fine, by the way. I think he and Ted found the nearest bar. The lock is there for your safety, so nobody bothered you while you were sleeping. Would you like some breakfast?¡± ¡°What I''d like is to get out of this fucking room, and yes, I''m starving.¡± A few minutes later, a key turned in the lock, and the door opened. It was Captain Bradley''s man, Levi. Levi led him through a comfortable-looking house to a pleasant room with a table. A housekeeper brought him coffee and a plate overflowing with eggs, toast, and thick slices of squeaking monster-sausage. He was so hungry he ate every bit. To Ian''s surprise, the monster-sausage tasted good. Looking out the windows, he could see people going about their business in the central fort of Little. The peace had been restored. Levi yawned, watching Ian from the doorway. The Captain''s assurances to the contrary, it was clear to Ian he was little more than a prisoner. The weight of his psychic suppression helmet made his head ache. Like Ian, Levi had Kityskin armor. Unlike Ian, he was larger and a lot stronger. Ian couldn''t help noticing Levi had an internal mind shield, making it obvious why he''d been chosen to guard Ian. Ian stood up and sighed, feeling much better. ¡°Let''s go see Captain Bradley.¡± He followed Levi downstairs and through a hall and into a small office. ¡°Have a seat. The Captain will join you shortly.¡± Ian sat down and waited. Seconds later, the office door flew open and two girls rushed in. The older one was around Ian''s age, a couple of inches taller, and quite pretty. The younger was eleven. Without her armor, the little brat almost looked like a normal human girl. ¡°Hi Tomi,¡± Ian said, standing up. ¡°Told you Ian was awake,¡± Tomi said, arms folded across her chest, glaring at Ian like an angry bulldog. ¡°He still doesn''t look like much and I did not need his help.¡± ¡°That''s right Tomi,¡± the older girl said, ¡°but it was nice of him to help you just the same. Good to meet you, Ian. I''m Teresa. Our sister Ashley would be here, but she''s still recovering from her head injury.¡± ¡°Ashley''s afraid of psychics,¡± Tomi said. Maybe because she is one, and she doesn''t want anyone to find out. Ian thought, amused. ¡°I believe my granddaughters were leaving.¡± A gray-haired man in a military uniform entered. ¡°Me and Ian have business to discuss, in private.¡± Captain Bradley glared at Levi standing by the door. ¡°They weren''t supposed to meet.¡± He said, referring to his granddaughters. Levi shrugged. There wasn''t much he could do if Tomi wanted to go somewhere. Teresa hugged Ian and whispered in his ear. ¡°Thank you so much for saving my sister, Ian. Twice.¡± ¡°You were going to read to me, Grandpa,¡± Tomi said. She held up a battered old Dr Seuss book titled Hop On Pop. ¡°Not right now, Tomi. I have too much to do. I''ll read to you this evening, I promise.¡± Tomi glared. ¡°Stupid Ian.¡± Ian shrugged, amused by the interaction. ¡°Ian is our guest, Tomi,¡± Captain Bradley said. ¡°Be nice, and since you both obviously have nothing to do, the north wall construction crew could use help with heavy lifting. Levi, perhaps you could escort them.¡± Teresa smiled and waved goodbye. Tomi sniffed, and bumped into Ian as she left. It was like he''d been bumped by a four-foot-tall brick wall. ¡°Sick of rebuilding the stupid north wall,¡± Tomi said. ¡°I got a bag of M&Ms,¡± Levi said. ¡°I''ll share it with you once you''re finished.¡± ¡°I love M&Ms,¡± Tomi responded. Once the three of them left, Ian sat down again. ¡°I want to leave as much as you want to be rid of me. Let''s do this.¡± ¡°Sorry about Tomi,¡± Captain Bradley said. ¡°I love that girl, but she can be a handful.¡± He pulled out a pack of cigarettes. ¡°Mind if I smoke?¡± Ian shrugged. ¡°Go ahead.¡± Captain Bradley pulled out a cigarette lighter. ¡°I quit for years, but then aliens invaded. At least lung cancer isn''t a problem anymore.¡± He lit up and inhaled, blowing smoke into the room. ¡°So Ian, when you were in the blue room with BG in the beginning, what did you ask for?¡± ¡°I thought that was obvious,¡± Ian said. ¡°I requested the full psychic package. The two psychic gifts BG offered.¡± ¡°That''s it? No physical upgrades? Weapons skills?¡± ¡°That''s it. Obviously, if I could do it over, I might have done things differently. Why?¡± ¡°I believe BG rewards sacrifice. You''re very strong psychically, but you sacrificed any physical improvements. Before the aliens came, Tomi would read me that book she was holding. She was a bright six-year-old. BG changed that. In Tomi''s case, BG was very generous with physical improvements and weapons, but Tomi lost the ability to read, along with around thirty IQ points. My other two granddaughters went with more standard warrior princess builds.¡±The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. It seemed Captain Bradley didn''t know about Ashley''s psychic gift. Ian wasn''t about to tell him. ¡°Look,¡± Ian said. ¡°I have an unspoken agreement with every town and enclave I drive through. I go where I want. In return, I leave people alone and I don''t damage anything I don''t have to. If you pull this stunt again, I won''t sneak into town and save your asses. I''ll leave you guys to it. I might help the survivors after aliens destroy this town, or I might not.¡± Captain Bradley, to his credit, didn''t even blink. ¡°You do what you have to do and I''ll do the same.¡± He pulled out a small leather bag and put it on the desk. ¡°Here''s one hundred thousand credits. The reward for Clancy''s death or capture, which you''ve more than earned. Again, I apologize for how we treated you, but after what just happened, I don''t think I have to explain why psychics make me nervous.¡± Captain Bradley leaned forward, studying Ian from behind his office desk. ¡±Is there any way you could find people like Clancy? so they can be dealt with. If not, I''m sure this will happen again.¡± Ian sighed. ¡°I do what I can. Clancy had the sense to stay away from me. He couldn''t sense me, but he could read the minds of all the people who seem to be keeping track of my activities. Most psychics I''ve encountered are decent people, trying to get by. But yes, I do keep an eye on things. Every so often, I encounter someone who''s going to hurt or kill people if I don''t do anything. When this happens, I take care of it.¡± ¡°Take care of it, how?¡± Captain Bradley asked. ¡°I take care of it,¡± Ian said. ¡°Maybe if you could show up to places unannounced, in disguise?¡± Captain Bradley said. ¡°I could help. I even have a guy in Kityskin armor who could pass for you from a distance and take your place from time to time, make it look like you''re somewhere you''re not.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± Ian said. ¡°In the meantime, I''d say you owe me big. You can keep your reward money, but there are things I want.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± Ian told him. *** A cold breeze blew through the rocky hills, and the late afternoon sun created long shadows, bringing a chill to the air. After his long hike in the foothills, Ian was drenched with sweat and gasping for breath. If he rested here for too long, he''d be freezing. It was hard to tell because each of the aliens had five eyes around their center, but the three, five-foot-tall, cylindrical bibi seemed to be eyeing him in an unfriendly manner. The three were joined by two more, then the five started jumping up and down and beeping. Never a good sign. At least his psychic suppression helmet had been removed, so there was that. Ian watched them from where he''d collapsed on the ground, trying to catch his breath. Hours of hiking the hills around Little had worn him out. ¡°You''ve got the most glass-cannon character build I have ever seen,¡± Levi said, jogging back to Ian. He''d just run up a nearby hill to check their perimeter before jogging back again and he wasn''t even breathing hard. ¡°You''re good at the psychic stuff, but one of these days a monster is going to sneeze in your direction and take your head off.¡± ¡°I know,¡± Ian said, gasping for breath. What was embarrassing was after eating gold happy-bouncy-berries from the small round bush that alien had turned into when they''d killed it, he was feeling stronger than usual. ¡°Could you kill those things?¡± He motioned towards the five bibi. ¡°Why don''t you mind-kill them?¡± Levi asked. ¡°I could,¡± Ian said between breaths, ¡°but it would be tricky. Each bibi has five brains, and I''m concentrating on something else, so will you please just kill them.¡± ¡°Okay, no problem,¡± Levi said. Not bothering to take his pack off, he rushed the five bibi, and with five swings of his sword, he cut the bibis in half before they could move. They emitted plaintive beeps before dying. Ian slowly sat up. ¡°Thing is, people with super strength are a dime a dozen, but I''m the only one I''ve met who even comes close to being able to do what I can do.¡± ¡°I didn''t know what was going on in the blue room,¡± Levi said, relaxing next to Ian. ¡°I took the first two gifts BG offered me, Iron-Eyes, and Regeneration, figured whatever, I wanted to get back to sleep or something. But it worked out. I''m not as strong as some people, but with regeneration I never get tired and I''m hard to kill. As long as I keep eating, I can go forever. With Iron Eyes I can see through illusions, and once I put some stat points into it, it comes with a great mind shield. You were bluffing the other night about being able to mind-kill the four of us, weren''t you?¡± ¡°No comment,¡± Ian responded. ¡°During that big battle three days ago, I sensed you and Ashley fighting that Kitykity. I''d have helped you if I could. I''m glad you survived.¡± ¡°Yeah. That thing was terrifying.¡± Levi''s hand shook as he pulled out a large chunk of monster sausage. It squeaked when he took a bite out of it, its insect-like legs moving back and forth. ¡°But enough about me. The reason people are scared of you, Ian, is they know what they''d be doing if they were in your place. Clancy was a shit, and I''d have killed him if I could, but there was nothing wrong with his taste in women.¡± ¡°11-year-old Tomi?¡± Ian asked, laughing. ¡°Yuck.¡± Levi laughed. ¡°Oh hell no. Even if Tomi was old enough, I feel sorry for the guy who hooks up with her. Clancy was there for Teresa. You met Teresa this morning. If I had your gift, she''s who I''d go for. I got to ask, Ian, what do you do for sex?¡± ¡°You''re being awfully personal,¡± Ian said, sighing. He stared off into the distance. This was not a question he enjoyed answering. ¡°It''s not like you think. I''m not a god who can sleep with whoever he feels like. Clancy lived in fear. When I looked into his mind, I could tell he was terrified. He knew it was a matter of time before someone caught up to him, but he couldn''t help himself. I do not want to live like that. I work hard to stay on good terms with the communities I go through because I got enough people trying to kill me as it is.¡± Ian stood up. His legs ached from all the hiking, but other than that, he was okay. ¡°So you never have sex?¡± Levi asked. ¡°I wouldn''t say that. I could tell you a few stories, and I have a sorta girlfriend. But she wants to get married and have kids. I can''t deal with that right now.¡± ¡°You know, we''d move faster if I carried you,¡± Levi said. ¡°Fortunately, we''re almost there. In that battle three days ago, one of the Kitykity released something when it died. Whatever it was fell into the rocks and ran off.¡± Ian had requested Captain Bradley''s help in getting into the foothills so he could find the damn thing. Levi had been the Captain''s response. ¡°What do you suppose it is?¡± Levi asked. ¡°No idea, but Kitykity don''t usually drop shit when they die, so I think it''s important to find out.¡± Ian staggered over to a small crevice and reached inside. ¡°You sure that''s safe?¡± Levi asked. ¡°Slightly sure,¡± Ian answered. ¡°I put it to sleep.¡± He felt around until his hand encountered a tentacle. He grabbed it and pulled, slowly dragging it out into the open. ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± Levi asked, backing away and pointing his gun at the thing. Whatever it was, it had four legs, four eyes, and weighed about fifty pounds. Six tentacles came out of its face. Its display popped up. This is a baby Kitykity. It is hungry and wants to eat human babies. ¡°I''ve never seen sexual organs on a Kitykity,¡± Ian said. ¡°I didn''t think they could reproduce. Suppose it was in a pouch or something?¡± ¡°Fuck! We didn''t have enough problems!¡± Levi said. ¡°Now they''re having kids. You know what we got to do.¡± ¡°Put your gun down. Our baby Kitykity is physically and mentally undeveloped. It''s only moderately dangerous right now.¡± Ian pried open its mouth. ¡°Teeth haven''t grown in yet.¡± ¡°So let''s kill the filthy creature before they do!¡± Even asleep, the creature sensed the two of them arguing. It let out an ¡°eerp¡± and struggled to wake up. Ian suddenly felt exhausted. He sighed, stroking the creature''s skin. ¡°I know how you feel, Levi. These things killed my sister. Thing is, if we kill this one, BG will just make more. But if we can tame it, teach it to protect humans instead of killing them, it could be the key to winning the game. I have a branch on my psychic-skill tree called Alien Friendship and I''m putting all the stat points I''ve gained over the last four days into that branch. I don''t know if this will work, but I have to try.¡± Levi raised his gun again. ¡°I''ve met some dumb people in my life, but you''ve got them beat. That thing''s got to die.¡± Levi fell to the ground with a loud thud, unconscious. ¡°Thing about us glass-cannons is we are pretty powerful,¡± Ian said. ¡°And I didn''t want to hurt your feelings, Levi, but your mind-shield isn''t that great. I''m going to try and improve it before I leave.¡± He looked down at the sleeping baby Kitykity and sighed. ¡°I guess I got to carry you back. At least it''s mostly downhill.¡± *** Much to Ian''s relief, they were soon on the road again, and the town of Little was receding into the distance. Crazy Steve was at the wheel of the Jeep. ¡°If you''re trying to raise a Kitykity as a pet, you are one crazy motherfucker, Ian, I hope you don''t get killed.¡± Captain Bradley said over the cell-phone. ¡°Per our agreement, ten percent of the happy-bouncy-berries are being saved for you, and I''ve given you every video we have on The Mechanic, who''s also my nephew, Dante Smith. In the blue room, Dante told BG he wanted to build weapons. BG did something, and he''s now one of our most valuable people. I told him about your wizard brother. He said he''d love to meet him, and if possible, trade for a few guns like the one you used on that Happy Bouncy thing. Next time you come by, be sure you announce your presence at the gate, and I promise nobody will shoot at you.¡± The baby Kitykity was now trapped in a heavy Galactic Market cage made of thick, transparent, alien glass in the back of Ian''s jeep. It sniffed suspiciously at the bowl of vitamin enriched monster-milk Ian had bought from the galactic market. It let out an angry yowl, loud enough to make the whole Jeep vibrate. ¡°Thank you, Captain,¡± Ian said. ¡°Got to go.¡± He hung up on the Captain, turned around, placed a hand on the cage, and used his gift to calm it down. ¡°Shhhh. It''s okay, little guy. I''m taking you to a secluded spot, and we''re going to hang out and become friends.¡± The Kitykity''s response was to let out another loud, angry yowl. ¡°Happy-bouncy-berries taste like sunlight,¡± Crazy Steve said, putting another tiny gold berry into his mouth. Crazy Steve''s new friend, Ted, had left to seek out Pete, the drug manufacturer, with the promise to try to get him to meet with Ian''s brother. ¡°I don''t know about sunlight, but they taste pretty damn good,¡± Ian said, eating one. His third and final request to the Captain was they get first crack at the new Happy Bouncy tree, and ten percent of any fruit it produced in the future. It was a tiny bush, but the golden berries growing on it were the best thing he''d ever tasted. ¡°Remember to save some berries for Gabe''s wizard research,¡± Ian said. Higher-level alien fruit seemed to provide physical benefits and healing properties.¡± Ian wasn''t sure if it was the golden berries, or the real chance of a breakthrough with the game, but he felt better than he had in a long time. Chapter 26 - Out Of The Frying Pan Into The Garbage Chapter 26 10 Years Post Apocalypse Out Of The Frying Pan Into The Garbage Human Population 45,000,000 ¡°Oh, my god! I¡¯ve never seen anything like it! She pushed you off her back and threw you into the garbage! And now she¡¯s flying away to die!¡± The teenage girl, Bridget, mind spoke. Bridget, as close as he could tell, was a young woman, and part of the psychic group-mind in Paradise Valley Refuge. She couldn¡¯t contain her laughter. He could feel the hum and chatter of agreement from the group mind she shared. He received a visual image from them, of Greta, his dragon companion, struggling to stay in the air, favoring two badly injured wings until she crashed behind a nearby hill. ¡°I seem to have that effect on females,¡± Ian responded. He groaned and tried to sit up, until the pain made him stop. One broken rib, at least. ¡°Take me and you, for example. I only met you yesterday when you promised me and Greta safe passage, and already you''re trying to kill us.¡± Wherever he was, it was dark and it stank of mold and old garbage. ¡°She threw you into the garbage!¡± Bridget repeated. ¡°Yes, Because I assured Greta it was safe to land here. I was so busy talking to you that I flew us straight into the ambush you so carefully set up. It¡¯s what I deserve for being so stupid,¡± Ian replied. If only he''d thought to have Greta circle the city, he''d have noticed the large number of cannons and Ballista (giant crossbows) set up and waiting for them. As it was, he was amazed he and Greta were still alive. The strangest thing about this situation was Ian could have sworn Greta didn¡¯t understand human symbolism well enough to display contempt in this fashion. Kill and eat him? Yes. Drop him from a great height and leave him to die? Certainly. But deliberately throwing him into the garbage? He''d never realized Greta knew what human garbage was, let alone understood its significance well enough to throw him into what appeared to be an old dumpster. But here he was. Worse, the mental connection he had with Greta was gone. All he felt from her was an icy, white-hot rage. Despite this, he hoped she could get away. Unable to do anything but lie there, he pulled up his stat sheet. Stat Sheet Name: Ian Anderson Sex: Male Age: 23 Physical Attributes: 2.8 Down from 3.3. Way to let yourself go, loser. With 10 being an Olympic athlete and 1 being an invalid in a wheelchair, you a pathetic 2.8 Mental Attributes: 8.0 With 10 being super genius, and 1 being severely retarded, you are 8.0 Status among peers: Low If your peers hadn¡¯t been eaten, they would still consider you a nerd and a spasticle. Spasticle is human slang for an uncoordinated, clumsy person. Some irrational and misguided humans consider you dangerous because you killed people, and assisted in killing thousands of mildly dangerous aliens. I assure them any normal human could do the same or better. Claims to fame: If Coach Benson hadn¡¯t been eaten, he would still consider you the worst player to ever try out in the fifty years he coached his little league baseball team. You are one of the very few humans to tame a Kitykity You are the first and only human, to ride a young female gray dumdum, and survive long enough to tell others of your experience, thus gaining you the title Dumdum-Rider! I¡¯m sure any normal human would have no trouble getting this title if they would stop being eaten in the process. Your galactic following has created a doll, made to resemble you. It''s called The Ian Anderson doll, and they are charging far too many credits for it. Note. You will not get any credits for the doll. Note. This does not help you at all with your current predicament. Special abilities: Psychic. Advanced Level 10 specializing in aliens. Any other Advanced Level 10 psychic specializing in aliens would do far better than you. There is a level past Advanced, but at the rate you¡¯re progressing, you will never find out what it is. Great. First of all, Greta was a young female gray dragon, not a dumdum, and Ian was a Dragon-Rider. He''d been putting more stat points into mental development trying to push past Level 10, but he hadn''t noticed any difference. He wasn¡¯t sure why his physical stats were deteriorating, but at present, it was the least of his problems. Also, he was pretty sure the correct term for his doll was action figure. He pulled out a glowing red syringe and injected a few milliliters of the red fluid into his arm. Ahhhhh. The syringe held the last of his Red Scourge combined with a healing booster. Ian had discovered the drug a couple of years ago. It supercharged his gift, and, if he was being honest, he''d developed an unhealthy dependence on it. On the bright side, he was unlikely to live long enough for withdrawal to be a problem. He sensed military units leaving the city to find and kill his dragon companion. He sensed Greta on the other side of the hill, mind filled with rage, waiting. The psychic bond with Greta he''d spent the last two years developing had vanished. If the two of them ever met again in the future, she''d kill him. Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! His Kitykity was safe at least. Back in the Fortress, his brave companion had become one of the Fortress''s defenders, and a member of his family. How did I get here? Ian wondered. How did I end up thrown in a dumpster by my dragon companion, waiting to be killed by the treacherous humans who ambushed us? Unable to do anything but lie there and wait to recover, he relaxed as the red scourge kicked in and the world around him slowed down. His mind sank into a warm red cocoon. *** 4 years and four months post alien apocalypse. Ian''s efforts to tame his baby Kitykity had succeeded beyond his wildest expectations. For the first two weeks after he captured it, he kept it in a cage, fed it Galactic-Market, solar powered, vitamin enriched Monster Milk, and listened to it yowl. One night while he was sleeping, it broke out of its cage and escaped the bomb shelter the two of them were staying in. By the time Ian awakened, the Kitykity had returned to the bomb shelter and curled up next to him. Its display had changed, now saying. This is a Kitykity. The human, Ian Anderson, brainwashed it so it no longer thinks humans are food. Shame on you, cruel human. ¡°Is that a raccoon?¡± Ian asked, seeing it was holding some squirming animal. ¡°Unless you plan to eat Mr. Raccoon, and I don''t see how you can without teeth, he belongs outside. Maybe you''d like some monster ice-cream?¡± ¡°rrrrp,¡± was the Kitykity''s response. After that, Buddy, now the size of an adult male German Shepherd, followed him everywhere. *** The two of them were instant celebrities when they arrived at The Fortress. Everybody wanted to see Ian¡¯s infant Kitykity companion and learn how he tamed it. Gabe was doing amazing things with his wizardry, but to Ian¡¯s extreme annoyance had yet to bring Stacy back. He went to Gabe''s lab to confront his brother and discovered Uncle Ben was already there. ¡°Gabe! My amazing nephew, could you please fix my cell phone?¡± ¡°What do I look like, an IT department?¡± Gabe grumbled, taking the cell-phone from Uncle Ben. Gabe held up the cell-phone and glared at it. ¡°Work!¡± he shouted, then slammed it against his workbench, causing the phone to let out a frightened squeak. He tossed it back to Uncle Ben. ¡°Fixed. You can watch your stupid alien videos now.¡± ¡°How come that never works when I do it?¡± Uncle Ben asked. As soon as Uncle Ben left, Ian turned to Gabe. ¡°Where''s Stacy?¡± Gabe looked away. ¡°Don¡¯t ask me how I know this, Ian, but if a human or animal¡¯s life functions cease for a fraction of a second under ten minutes, they can be brought back to life; a fraction of a second over ten minutes, and they are shit out of luck. I¡¯ve tried everything.¡± Gabe sighed. ¡°BG refuses to answer my questions concerning the ten-minute life/death barrier, and at this point, she¡¯s the only one who can help.¡± ¡°What about the nuclear option we talked about?¡± Ian asked. ¡°We are so far away from that option, I can¡¯t begin to answer that question.¡± ¡°Stacy is dead,¡± Sabrina said, walking in on their argument. ¡°Both of you, get over it.¡± ¡°Why don¡¯t you mind your own business!¡± Ian snapped. ¡°I¡¯m Gabe¡¯s apprentice. His business is my business.¡± ¡°Yowwwrrrr,¡± Buddy said from a corner of the lab, picking up on the human anger in the room. Gabe eyed the infant German Shepherd sized Kitykity nervously. ¡°How safe is that thing?¡± Ian didn¡¯t respond. He stormed out, Buddy close behind. Ian spent the next few days sitting in his room, head in his hands, wanting to cry. Over four years of hard, dangerous monster hunting. He''d come close to being killed more times than he could count. For what? He hadn''t accomplished a goddamn thing. No closer to winning the game, or bringing Stacy back than when he''d started. Ian didn¡¯t know what to do. He¡¯d done everything he could think of to help his brother succeed, but so far nothing. It wasn¡¯t for lack of Gabe''s trying, either. He sensed Gabe felt just as defeated as he did. When it was time to leave the Fortress, Ian went looking for Crazy Steve, and discovered Crazy Steve was too drunk to stand, let alone travel. Also, his old friend didn¡¯t want to go. ¡°Dammit, Steve,¡± Ian said, sensing part of the problem. ¡°I love Buddy, but no alien will ever replace you.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not that,¡± Crazy Steve said, looking up at him from the bar counter. His breath reeking of booze. ¡°I told you how in Zen Buddhism you find your own meaning. My meaning for the past four years has been to look out for an angry young boy trying to prove himself. You¡¯ve grown up and got a protector tougher than I am. I can tell Buddy will defend you with its life. You don¡¯t need me.¡± ¡°So what¡¯s your life''s meaning now? To sell drugs with your friend? I know the two of you are working on something.¡± ¡°Nothing wrong... with that,¡± Crazy Steve finished his beer and slammed the mug on the counter. ¡°We¡¯re businessmen.¡± ¡°We¡¯re going to talk about this again when I get back, and you¡¯re sober,¡± Ian said. *** When Ian returned to the Fortress a few weeks later, Crazy Steve was sober, and living with a small dark-haired woman and her three kids. ¡°You don¡¯t waste any time,¡± Ian said, after the woman brought them sodas. She looked nervously at Ian, and Ian''s Kitykity who was curled up in the corner, and left them alone. ¡°Iris saved me, dragged me from a bar brawl, let me recover at her place. She says if I want to live with her, I¡¯d better clean up my act.¡± Crazy Steve looked better than he had in months. He¡¯d even shaved, and for a change, he wasn¡¯t holding a lit cigarette. ¡°Clean up your act? No way! You told her to go to hell, right?¡± Ian asked, laughing. Crazy Steve laughed. ¡°Ian, look at her, and look at me. She¡¯s pretty, and over twenty years younger than me. What do you think I did?¡± ¡°Wow. You dirty old man. You¡¯re going to help her raise her kids?¡± Ian asked. ¡°That¡¯s your new life¡¯s meaning now?¡± ¡°That¡¯s the plan,¡± Crazy Steve said. ¡°Oh, and please don¡¯t tell her I may have exaggerated a few things, like the time I served in the special forces. She thinks I¡¯m a bad-ass because of the time I spent traveling with you.¡± ¡°Your secret¡¯s safe with me. She¡¯s lucky to have you, Steve.¡± Ian hugged the old man and tried not to cry. So that was it. No more Ian and Crazy Steve. Ian tried to be happy for the guy, but he missed traveling with his old friend. Things change, and Ian tried to accept this. For the next few years, it was Ian and Buddy. Buddy, still a baby, grew to the size of a Great Dane, started eating solid food, learned how to drive, and could even fire the Jeep¡¯s machine gun. Ian explained to his alien companion, with difficulty, how humans were at war with its kind. Because of this, humans would fear and hate Buddy, and aliens would do their best to kill them both. His companion handled it well, seeming to have no problem protecting Ian from its own kind. This was good because Ian¡¯s attempts to tame other Kitykity resulted in failure. In the meantime, Gabe fired his assistant/apprentice, Sabrina. It wasn¡¯t a bad thing, though. They¡¯d become romantically involved. Dad had found someone, and the two got married. Even Uncle Ben was living with someone. His family was happy. Alien apocalypse or not, they¡¯d gotten on with their lives. Stacy was a memory, her room now occupied by another girl, part of Dad¡¯s new family. Ian tried to be happy for them, but couldn¡¯t help feeling angry. His years of work hadn''t gotten him any closer to winning the game, and Stacy''s absence created a gulf inside him. Nothing seemed to help. His own attempts to reconcile with his ex-girlfriend resulted in failure, but his heart hadn¡¯t been in it. There had to be something he could do to bring Stacy back and win the game! But what? What was he missing? Ian himself was in a rut. He hadn¡¯t killed any new aliens in several months, and the aliens he''d encountered either weren¡¯t a challenge, or were so completely out of his league he didn''t know how to kill them, like the giant worm he''d encountered that was hundreds of feet long and the width of a city bus. Fortunately, those aliens didn¡¯t appear overly aggressive towards humans. Mrs. Wilcox put him onto his next project. ¡°You look younger,¡± Ian said when she joined him at their usual meeting place, Ian¡¯s kitchen. ¡°I¡¯d thought you were wearing more makeup, but you really look younger.¡± ¡°Why thank you, Ian. Your brother gave me some rejuvenation monster skin cream. He wasn¡¯t sure about side effects, but for the chance to look twenty years younger, I¡¯m happy to be his guinea pig.¡± There was a faint green tinge on the woman''s skin and eyes that hadn''t been there before. If she hadn''t noticed, Ian wasn''t about to tell her. ¡°Yeah. Well, I found the person who¡¯s been doing the anti-Wilcox graffiti. It¡¯s ten-year-old Megan Sacler, part of the Sacler traitor family. I suppose you¡¯re going to kill her?¡± The last was a joke. Mostly. ¡°Absolutely not!¡± Mrs. Wilcox said, looking indignant. ¡°In politics, we can never underestimate the value of a good scapegoat. I¡¯m planning to blame the traitor families for our budget shortfalls.¡± ¡°I¡¯m no fan of the traitor families, but did you have to tattoo their children? That seems cruel.¡± ¡°Mr. Payne would have wanted it that way,¡± Mrs. Wilcox responded. ¡°He had zero tolerance for traitors. He said so many times. And the rotten apple never falls far from the tree. But I didn¡¯t come here to talk about that. I came because BG actually answered one of your questions. I asked her about that invisible monster you met a few months back. The one who is a stronger psychic than you. In BG¡¯s words.¡± Mrs. Wilcox giggled, ¡°the young female gray dumdum (dragon) isn''t like the gentle peace-loving baby male dumdums you are used to. She¡¯s a vicious, cold-blooded, territorial killing machine. She will annihilate anyone, human or alien, who enters her territory without her consent.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Ian said, remembering how, when he and Buddy were hunting her, she''d crept up behind them in total silence. Without his psychic abilities, Ian wouldn¡¯t have known she was there. Even with his psychic abilities, it had been like mind-dueling smoke. He couldn¡¯t do anything to this creature. They''d been forced to run away and hide until she left. Buddy, normally quite brave, had been terrified. ¡°Good thing we hadn¡¯t made it to her territory. It would seem we¡¯re lucky to be alive.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°According to BG, this female dumdum is a level 9 alien. BG doesn¡¯t think you have a chance of killing it, even with Gabe¡¯s help. I strongly recommend you stay the hell away from her until we learn more.¡± ¡°That was my initial assessment as well,¡± Ian responded. ¡°Good. Oh, your father hopes you can join them for dinner.¡± Mrs. Wilcox got up to leave. ¡°Not if I can help it,¡± Ian said. ¡°Take care of yourself, Ian.¡± After she left, he sat at the kitchen table for a long time. This female dumdum dragon could have attacked him and Buddy, certainly killing them, but she hadn¡¯t. She might be an aggressive territorial killing machine, but outside her territory, she seemed more curious than anything else. Ian put all the stat points he¡¯d saved up into his Alien Friendship branch of his skill tree. ¡°Well Buddy, I¡¯m going to do something very smart, or very stupid.¡± Buddy, sensing what Ian was about to do, put its large front paws over its head and let out a mournful yowl. Chapter 27 - The Dragon Rider Chapter 27 10 years Post apocalypse The Dragon Rider Present Ian was battered and sore, broken bones slowly healing. It was dark in the dumpster and smelled like mold and rotten fish. He cursed himself again for being so stupid. How could he have flown them into such an obvious trap? You''re strong enough psychics that you must have known Greta, and I came in peace, Ian mind spoke. How could you do this? Ian could feel the hum and chatter of the group mind Bridget shared with the other psychic humans in Paradise Valley Refuge. He got a visual image of his dragon companion Greta, wounded, crashing behind a distant hill, with hundreds of heavily armed men in trucks going after her. What was worse than Greta casting him into the garbage was that their psychic connection was gone. Their partnership was over. If through some miracle they survived, she''d certainly kill him the next time they met. Dragons are not known for their gentle, forgiving natures. You''re an alien sympathizer, Ian. A traitor to your species. Riding a dragon. Really? I wanted to reeducate you and bring you into our group mind, but I was overruled. Others feel you''re too strong and would cause problems. It''s called thinking outside the box, you insane idiots! Ian responded. Do you have any idea how many aliens Greta has killed for me? You love that filthy alien. We are psychics you know. It''s sad that we have to explain to you why this is bad. I was hoping your dragon would die next to our refuge, we''d have a nice dragon tree, Bridget mind-chattered away. Our dragon trees haven''t given us any fruit and I''m hoping Greta''s tree will be different. I wonder how many credits and stat points our psychic collective will get for killing her? I bet it''s a lot. Most dragon trees Ian knew of were created from killing baby dragons. Adult dragons were rarer and much harder to kill. Ian suspected baby dragon trees needed time to mature, but he neither knew nor cared if killing Greta would produce a dragon tree with fruit. Ian felt ashamed. He had responsibilities back home, order he maintained, people he protected. He''d given that up for drug addiction and a dragon flight that had accomplished nothing more than getting him and his dragon killed. We feel the life leaving your dragon, Bridget mind-spoke. Our men have orders to search the area for a dragon tree. I bet their fruit tastes amazing. Sorry, Greta, Ian thought. You deserved better. It stank in the dumpster. Ian slowly forced himself to sit up. He felt around. The dumpster was big, dark, and heavy. He had no idea how to get out. His Kityskin armor came with night vision, but it required some light to work, and inside the dumpster there was none. He produced a light from his inventory and looked around. The dumpster was every bit as dirty and gross as he''d expected. As close as he could tell, the dumpster was upside down and he was sitting on its lid. How the hell did that happen? He lay back down with a groan and reached out with his mind. There were no useful aliens within range. Without a suitable alien to control, he didn''t have a chance in hell of escaping this place alive even if he could get out of this dumpster. It was times like these when he realized how limited he was. A bunch of stat points put into strength and speed would really come in handy right now. The truth was, he''d always been afraid to put stat points into anything but his gift. Psychic dueling and mind-controlling aliens were the only things he was good at. Any stat point he didn''t put into his gift was a chance he''d lose a mental duel his life depended on. Surrender, and you have my word you will be treated decently, she said. I''ll send men with a syringe containing a powerful tranquilizer for you to inject yourself with. They will then lock you in chains and bring you in. Don''t try pretending to inject yourself and faking unconsciousness, Ian. We will know. Their group mind felt like rancid butter mixed with a sweet cough syrup. He couldn''t believe he''d actually liked them. Sure, Ian responded. I surrender. *** 7 Years Post Alien Apocalypse Female dragons are much more aggressive than the males, but as usual BG, the AI unit that trapped them in this game hell world, hadn''t given them the full story. Female dragons were fiercely territorial and quick to attack any threat, alien or human. Unlike male dragons, however, they seldom ventured beyond their territories, and they didn''t hunt or kill for sport. This knowledge, gained from BG and years of alien observation, gave Ian the idea for taming one. ¡°Rrrrowr,¡± Buddy grumbled. Buddy hated Ian''s plan. ¡°You will always be my best friend, Buddy,¡± Ian said, ¡°but you can''t fly.¡± Ian found himself levitated ten feet off the ground. ¡°Unless you can levitate yourself at the same time and travel hundreds of miles that way, I''m afraid that''s not going to work. Also, this dragon is much much stronger than we are.¡± ¡°Rrwrrwrr,¡± Buddy grumbled, putting Ian down. ¡°I know,¡± Ian said, rubbing Buddy''s nose, now at shoulder height. ¡°You''d better get out of here, and don''t come back until she leaves. Female dragons hate Kitykity. Apparently, you eat their eggs and hatchlings.¡± Buddy reluctantly left, leaving Ian alone with a cow carcass. Ian spread out his bright yellow tie-dyed sheet, holding it down with rocks on each corner. Dragons were attracted to bright colors. The gray dumdum (dragon) soon spotted him on the edge of her territory. He felt her approach, circling him high in the air. This was his chance. He reached out and made mental contact. I come in peace, with a gift. I''m no threat. Ian visualized the dead cow. The dragon''s mind matched her color, a steel cold gray, devoid of emotion. She scanned his mind in return, searching for any hidden danger. Her mind was stronger than anything he''d encountered. The female dragon slowly circled downward, alert for any threat. She stayed visible, her skin kept its dull gray color that blended into its surroundings. This was a good sign. Unlike their male counterparts, who were proud of their bright colorful scales, female dragons turned invisible when they felt threatened or were about to attack. She landed behind him in total silence. An amazing feat for a being over one hundred feet long. He didn''t move as he felt her breath on the back of his head and neck. What he was doing was very smart, or very stupid. If the latter, his death would be quick. Her head and neck passed over him. She dipped down and picked up the cow with her mouth. She tossed it in the air, levitating it with her mind, making the cow float for several seconds. Then she caught it again with her mouth and swallowed it. He saw her BG display. This is a young female dumdum. She is not your friend. She let out a low snarl, and mind spoke, Leave, now. As she took off, her tail slammed into him hard enough to send him flying several feet. He landed painfully on the rocky ground. A deliberate warning. She could have just as easily killed him. Then she was gone, and Ian was still alive.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. In hindsight, trying to make friends with a being whose display stated plainly that she wasn''t interested in friendship might not have been his brightest move. But he was running low on options. The aliens he could kill in the area weren''t doing anything useful for him, and the few aliens he couldn''t kill were so powerful going after them would be suicide. A level 9 alien companion could change that. A few days later, Ian returned with another food offering. He met her fifty feet inside her territory. Instead of taking his offering, she bit off his right arm. What was shocking was that it was so unexpected. She was neither angry nor hungry, only curious. Ian lay on the ground, sharp rocks digging into his back, shivering from shock and cool mountain air, bleeding, looking up at the dragon and the clear blue sky behind her, wondering if this was how he''d die. Her mind was the most alien of the alien minds he''d encountered, devoid of emotion, orderly. Everything was categorized as to the level of threat. The rabbits in a nearby burrow posed an insignificant threat and possible food source, to be ignored. Kitykity were a significant threat to be killed if they got too close. Ian saw himself through her four eyes, a frightened young man. Ian''s threat level was ????? A question mark. Physically, Ian was insignificant, but his mind and actions were strange. Ian''s mind was as alien to her as hers was to him. She had questions killing Ian would not answer. Her orderly mind did not like unanswered questions. She opened her mouth, dropping his arm nearby. Go away! Don''t come back! She mind-spoke before flying away. Ian crawled over to his right arm, weak from blood loss. He grabbed it and carefully reattached it to his shoulder, injecting himself with a healing booster combined with the Red Scourge stimulant his brother had made up for him. When he left hours later, he sensed the dragon circling above, watching him. He came back a few days later, his still healing right arm itching like crazy where the arm met the shoulder. This time she didn''t land. She levitated the cow up into her mouth as she flew overhead. Over the next two years, a mental connection formed between them. He began to sense her presence, regardless of the distance between them. Hundreds of food offerings later, she allowed him inside her nest, where she lived, deep in the mountains under a large overhang. She didn''t like him exactly, but she tolerated his presence. She even tolerated Buddy, as long as it didn''t get too close. Ian spent his first night in her nest, her on one side, Buddy on the other. He would never have suspected that a creature as solitary as a female dragon could get lonely, but though he was still an unknown to her, his presence filled a void in her life. Dragons didn''t have names, or even fully understand the concept of names, but Ian named her Greta. He wasn''t sure why; the name felt right somehow. The first time he made his request to fly around the country with him on her back, her answer was a loud resounding No! So he left. He came back a few days later with another food offering and made his request again. This time he received a loud growling roar, then eventually reluctant agreement. What motivated her to accept wasn''t loneliness, it was curiosity. She''d never flown more than a few miles outside her territory. Ian had made her curious about what else was out there. He purchased a specially made leather saddle and harness from the galactic market for his new companion. He strapped it on her where her shoulders met her neck, then used it to fasten himself firmly to her body so he wouldn''t come off while she was flying. Once they were in the air, a message from BG popped up on his display. You are riding your first dumdum. You have earned the title, Dumdum Rider! Your galactic following thinks this is an impressive achievement. I pointed out that if you can do it; it is obviously not that difficult. It''s Dragon Rider, you stupid AI, Ian thought. At Ian''s urging, Greta flew them to the Fortress, the closest thing he had to a home. This journey would have taken him days by motor vehicle or on the back of Buddy. With Greta, it was completed in hours. Buddy followed on foot and would join them at the fortress in another two days. His armor protected his face and eyes from the winds created by the flight, but not the cold air. By the time they reached the Fortress, he was shivering uncontrollably and chilled to the bone. Still, there was no question flying on dragon-back for the first time was one of the greatest moments of his life. He had Greta fly around the fortress several times while he waved a white sheet to make sure nobody tried to shoot them down. Ian had informed the fortress inhabitants of his intentions before he left, several months before, so he was pretty sure of safe passage. What he wasn''t expecting was the large crowd waiting for him to land, and the standing ovation he received when he did. ¡°It''s okay, Greta,¡± he said. ¡°These are friends.¡± Aside from a rumble of discontent, Greta remained calm. With their psychic connection, either would know if anything happened to the other. Before he left, he made sure that nobody was allowed to approach her, and under no circumstance was anyone to display weapons around her or do anything threatening in her presence. ¡°If she feels threatened, she will attack, and I will not be able to stop her,¡± Ian said. ¡°I thought you were getting good at this alien mind control thing,¡± Gabe responded. Gabe was one of the few residents not happy to see Ian. He''d been performing a demonstration of his magic when Ian showed up and stole his audience. ¡°I''m sorry my psychic abilities don''t impress you, Gabe,¡± Ian replied. ¡°I''m sure all your level nine alien companions are under much better control.¡± Gabe snorted and walked away, his wizard robes flowing around him. He looked much better these days, having lost his stupid wizard hat. His wife, Sabrina, dressed him in distinguished black robes covered with Chinese symbols. When Ian could get away, he met with the fortress leadership. On their meeting room table was a map of the area surrounding the fortress. Thanks in part to Ian, their map was detailed for fifty miles in every direction. Past this point, the map was vague and depended on information from unreliable sources. ¡°Greta can fly up to five hundred miles a day,¡± Ian said, ¡°and fight off anything I''m likely to meet in my travels. I want to find out what''s going on out there. Visit distant neighbors on a goodwill mission. Look into the possibility of information sharing, trade, that kind of thing.¡± And find someone who knows the key to winning this game, or how to get past the ten-minute life/death barrier Gabe keeps complaining about, so we can finally bring Stacy back, Ian thought. ¡°That is all well and good, Ian,¡± Mrs. Wilcox responded. ¡°But it would be nice to know who and what our neighbors are. How many? How well armed? And their military capabilities?¡± ¡°Let me make it clear that I will defend this fortress if we''re attacked,¡± Ian said. ¡°But I will not help you wage war on our human neighbors.¡± ¡°Obviously nobody is asking you to attack our neighbors,¡± Dad responded. ¡°But if you must run off again to explore new places and get yourself killed, how about letting us know if any of our neighbors are planning to attack us in the meantime? And if they do attack us, what we should expect?¡± ¡°What did you have in mind?¡± Ian asked. Dad handed him a small cell phone. ¡°This is a durable, expensive cell phone. Please don''t lose it. While you''re spreading the goodwill, take pictures, videos, record conversations, and learn everything you can. We''d like aerial photographs of everything, pay attention to any tame monsters, monster trees, and use your psychic skills to let us know if there are people out there with special abilities and hostile plans.¡± *** Present Ian relaxed inside the smelly dumpster, waiting for two men to approach. He could feel they were unarmed and afraid. He waited for them to reach his dumpster, then he put them to sleep. You have good reason to think I''m stupid after I flew Greta into your trap, but I have no wish to be tortured and killed. There was mental laughter from the psychic collective. That is unfortunate, Bridget replied. We hoped to hear a few more stories before we killed you, but we''ve learned enough. I expect to visit your Fortress within a few years. It would be nice to meet your alien-loving family, before we kill them. Good luck with that, Ian replied. Over seven hundred miles is a long distance to travel. I had a way of getting there safely in a couple of days. But, oh yeah, you killed her. Taking a force several hundred miles to Cirsium Fortress would be a huge job, even for Bridget''s people. Still, way to go, Ian, telling them where you live, you trusting idiot! He sensed people in the distance setting up a mortar to blast him out. They were too far away for him to use his gift on. An unfortunate weakness of psychics, one Bridget and her psychic collective knew well. If you attack me, you put your men in danger, Ian mind spoke, referring to the two unconscious men next to his dumpster. They''re expendable, obviously, she replied. Goodbye, Ian, I believe you''ve taken up enough of our time. Ian sighed. All the crazy shit he''d survived, to die in a dumpster hundreds of miles from home. At least Buddy was safe, back at Cirsium Fortress. Buddy had become their mascot, and one of their fiercest defenders. His Kitykity friend would feel it when Ian died and miss him terribly. This saddened him more than anything else. He took out his glowing red syringe and injected himself with the last of The Red Scourge. No point in saving it. His pulse raced, and his muscles tightened and spasmed from the drug. He reached out again with his gift. Still no aliens close enough for him to use. The two sleeping men sent to take him in weren''t his enemy. They were like him, trying to survive. He nudged them awake. Run, he told them. They did. Chapter 28 - A Dragons Wrath Chapter 28 10 years Post Apocalypse A Dragon''s Wrath Two Months Earlier. Three days after Ian spoke to the Fortress council about his plans to explore the surrounding region, he and Greta were flying over unexplored territory. It was sobering to see how devoid of human life some regions were. When he did find a human settlement large enough to visit, he flew over the settlement, waving a white sheet like a flag, and dropped some leaflets. Hi. I''m Ian, and my dragon companion is named Greta I''m trying to reconnect with distant towns and provinces. I want to learn about other human communities and bring news of my own. Greta will not hurt anyone as long as she is left alone. Greta is not to be approached. She is not to be threatened. If she feels threatened, she will kill. If you understand this and wish us to land, please find us a suitable landing site, away from people. It should be at least the size of a football field. Stake out your landing site with a sheet laid out flat on each of the four corners. If no such site is seen, I will not land. Best wishes Ian Anderson. The people he visited were nice. They were all curious about him and how he''d tamed his dragon. Ian acquired a lot of news, most of it bad. Military bases had been hard hit in the invasion, attacked by higher-level aliens in the beginning. Ian learned this from an army deserter who''d survived by running like hell. Some communities had excessive monster trouble. He tried to help where he could. With a gray dragon companion, normally scary aliens were not a problem for him. Sadly, nobody knew how to win the game, or overcome BG''s ten-minute life/death barrier. One larger community he flew over met him with fighter planes. One plane on each side of his dragon, and a third behind him. They motioned for him to land. You''re in our airspace. Land the dragon or we''ll shoot you down, the pilot flying behind him mind-spoke. Easy Greta, Ian tried to calm his companion. Are you stupid? You know dragons are bulletproof? he asked the psychic pilot. Land the damn dragon or we shoot you down, the pilot replied. Greta used her mind to stop the three planes in mid-air; they appeared to move rapidly backward before going into nosedives as the pilots fought to regain control of their planes. Ian hoped they were okay, but they should have known better. He took pictures of the town, but wasn''t worried about any potential conflict. The planes BG allowed humans to have were ridiculously short-ranged. They could stay in the air for a couple of hours before they had to land and recharge. He kept going. A week later, he encountered a fortress bigger and better armed than his own. A small city in a mountain range near what had been a state capital. In addition to gun turrets and cannons, there were large, mounted crossbows. He saw flags and guard towers everywhere and he could feel people watching. He dropped his leaflets. Hi! Nice dragon! The mind speech felt young, human, and female, with a clear crystalline quality Ian hadn''t encountered before. Yeah, I get that a lot, Ian responded. I can see you from the central tower. Is that Kitykity skin armor? Where are you from? She asked. Oh. where are my manners? I''m Bridget. Welcome to Paradise Valley Refuge. You look very tough. I''m Ian Anderson, he responded. You feel like a powerful psychic, and I''m not that tough. Someone else killed the Kitykity. I just held it still with my mind. Mind-to-mind communication was faster and more efficient than speech. He explained how he was trying to reconnect with the outside world and learn from other communities. She told him she was eighteen years old and head of their psychic collective. When the aliens invaded, I joined forces with all the other psychics in the area, the telepaths, telekinetics, pyrokinetics, even some fulgurkinetics (electric lightning people), to defend this city. Individually, we''re weak, but together we''re powerful. That''s how we''ve kept this region free of high-level aliens. Six months after the invasion, Ian responded, I hired this old guy, and we drove around killing alien monsters. Your way sounds much better. I lost count of how many times I almost died. Bridget was a good mental listener. Ian told her about his family, how he was traveling to find out what was going on, and trying to learn how to beat the 10-minute life/death barrier. I''ll come back tomorrow, he said after hours of circling the city. Set up a safe place for my dragon and we''ll land. Ian and Greta spent the night nearby. Greta was not happy about returning. Too many humans maybe. Ian was looking forward to meeting this psychic and her collective. Most human psychics were much weaker than him and he got nothing from their interactions. He had a feeling she would be different. He was older, but they had so much in common. Hi Ian, looking forward to meeting you! Bridget mind spoke. Have you had breakfast? Oh, and does your dragon need anything?If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Me too, no, and probably not, Ian replied. Something was up with Greta. She did not want to land. She felt unhappy and grumbly. He was busy trying to reassure her and answer Bridget''s questions when something slammed into the side of his head. It felt like he''d been hit in the head by a fast-moving baseball. His Kityskin armor helmet stopped the bullet, but not its impact. Other bullets hit him and Greta. Lightning came from nowhere and narrowly missed them. So many guns were firing at once that it sounded like thunder. A swarm of diamond-tipped arrows filled the air. They''d flown into a trap, and it was his fault. His stomach went through his throat as Greta instantly lost hundreds of feet of altitude. The next thing he knew, he was in free-fall. Greta used one of her claws to slice through his leather harness, sending him and his leather riding gear flying. He slammed into something that broke his fall. Hurt in the fall and covered with garbage. It was a long time before he could move. *** Present Time If Ian escaped from his dumpster and ran away from the city, he''d have a mile of open rocky terrain to cross before reaching any kind of cover. Running towards the city was suicide. He reached out again for a suitable alien. Even after injecting himself with the last of his Red Scourge to supercharge his abilities, he couldn''t sense any aliens he could use. Shit. It had seemed like a good idea. Visit distant communities, learn how to win the game, and or, break the 10-minute life/death barrier to bring back Stacy. Instead, he might well have put the Fortress in danger from a powerful group of psychics. Way to go, Ian, he thought. Jet pack for cowardly human to run away in, 100,000 credits, Ian read from The Galactic Market. He had 35,000 credits. That''s what he got for giving away his monster-killing money. Even with a jet pack, he''d need darkness to have the slightest chance of escape. He knew from the minds he sensed outside that it wasn''t even noon and he had maybe ten minutes to live. Even at the best of times, Ian ran like a spastic cripple. Being gunned down while running did not appeal to him. Getting blasted out of a dumpster seemed a dignified way to die by comparison. I failed, he thought. Failed my sister, my family, my companions, friends, and my community. I''m sorry. I should have been better, smarter, stronger. Why is Ian still alive? Ian felt Bridget ask someone. They had one job. What did they do, break for breakfast? Ian no longer felt people standing around the mortar aimed at his dumpster, and they hadn''t seemed like the sort to slack off on the job. Ian heard explosions and the roar of a very angry dragon. He started laughing uncontrollably, laughing so hard his sides hurt. Greta had been faking! She''d pretended to be badly wounded to lure men away from the city. She''d played dead, then doubled back... I knew Greta wouldn''t die that easy! She was faking! She''s a powerful psychic! And did I forget to tell you, she turns invisible? Ian asked. Shit. It''s the dragon! Ian felt Bridget shout. That thing was supposed to be dead! Ian heard screaming and gunfire, along with the crackling roar of flames. Greta? He tried. No response. Her rage-filled mind was moving so fast it was like everything around her was in slow motion. It was clear Greta took the city''s trying to kill her personally. He''d wondered what she was capable of if she got truly angry, and now they were going to find out. He sensed Greta using her fire with deadly, strategic precision. She avoided the city''s attacks while targeting anything flammable, even factoring in the wind direction to maximize her fire''s effects. He felt the fear and pain from the city militia as their armory exploded and went up in flames around them. People, most of them civilians, got burned alive, and in many cases, eaten. Ian felt his dumpster grow warmer from the nearby fires, even though Paradise Refuge was over half a mile away. Well, if Greta and this psycho city kill each other, I''ll have 700 miles to travel to get home. Piece of cake, Ian thought. Everyone to the shelter now! Bridget shouted. He''d recovered enough to move, at least. Pulling himself into a painful crouch, he stood up on the dumpster lid, pulled out his small light, and looked around again. How the hell did this huge dumpster get turned upside down after he''d been thrown inside? Maybe he slammed into its side and tipped it over? He threw himself against different sides of the dumpster, trying to knock it on its side. Ow. Ow. He ached. His muscles and bones hurt from slamming against the dumpster walls, but the dumpster didn''t budge. Super-Awesome Solar-Powered Diamond Edged Power Saw, for stupid human trapped in a dumpster. 10,000 credits. Ian read the Galactic Market display and sighed. This seemed like his best option. By now Crazy Steve would have had this dumpster in pieces and turned it into an armored vehicle. He missed the old guy. Last he heard, Crazy Steve had had three kids with his significant other. Dirty old bastard. Ian felt more people suffer and die in the city. It was a massacre. It''s trying to get into the underground shelter. Guards! Do something! Bridget mind spoke. Ian could feel Bridget''s fear... Ian? Ian? I know you''re there. Call off your dragon and we''ll surrender! Please! Whatever you want! If you want my help, answer my question. No, Ian, there''s no way to bring back the dead. We don''t know any more about the 10-minute life/death barrier than you do. Please help us. She responded. Greta? Ian tried, but he knew there was nothing he could do for the people of the city. Greta would come for him next. Escaping from this city''s military would have been a piece of cake compared to evading a pissed-off gray dragon. He felt Bridget''s fear, saw terrifying images through her eyes. Greta could be seen by the many arrows sticking into her head and neck. Aside from that, she was invisible. Fire and dead bodies surrounded her. The dragon towered over the girl and the other psychics. Rage flowed off Greta in waves, her open mouth filled with fire. She said one word. ¡°MINE¡±. Then mental silence. Bridget and her psychic collective were dead. What had Greta meant by her statement ¡°mine¡±? Her what? Her city? That didn''t make sense. Minutes later, he felt Greta approach. His dumpster tipped over, and he fell out. Ian staggered to his feet, eyes tearing, getting used to the sunlight. This was how he would die, age of 23, killed by his alien companion? Greta''s body was visible now. She no longer seemed angry and made no move to kill him. Their psychic connection came back, returning as if nothing had happened. Her anger was gone. She just felt very full. Greta never blamed me for the attack, Ian realized, unbelieving. While they were under attack, she''d spotted a metal box and threw her companion into it to keep him safe. Then she pretended to be severely wounded to distract and divide their attackers before doubling back and proceeding to eliminate the perceived threat. He''d been right. Greta didn''t understand the concept of throwing someone into the garbage. In the distance, Ian felt hundreds of humans, still looking for a dragon tree behind the hill where Greta had pretended to crash. They were noticing smoke from the direction of their city and becoming increasingly concerned. But they''d been told in no uncertain terms to find a dragon tree and orders were orders. Ian must be in shock. He should be sad, angry, or ashamed, instead, he felt nothing. Greta looked tired. But aside from some fifty arrows in her head and body and minor burns and flesh wounds, she was fine. Fires raged in the distance. Any human in the city not dead was in hiding. Greta nudged him with her head, not understanding what was wrong. Ian couldn''t look at his display. He knew what BG would say. Your companion killed unknown hundreds of humans. If your companion could kill unknown hundreds of humans, anyone else''s companion could kill twice as many humans with three of their legs tied behind their backs. He buried his head in his hands. It was all for nothing. All that work, all this death, and he was no closer to any of his goals than before. A waste of time. Greta proceeded to grab the arrows with her clawed feet and pull them out one by one like they were annoying splinters. When she was done, she brought his saddle and harness over to him and waited for him to improvise a repair. Greta had eaten so many humans, all she wanted to do was sleep, and when dragons slept, they slept for a long time. She flew through the night and into the next day, dropping Ian off near the front gate of the Fortress before flying away. Ian sat on the ground, not moving until Buddy came out, levitated him onto its back, and carried him inside. Chapter 29 - Attack of the Alien Plant Chapter 29 Attack of the Alien Plant 11 Years Post Apocalypse Near a Distant Enclave. 70 Miles from the Fortress The frightening, oppressive presence of darkness receded with the first sign of the morning sun and the faint beginnings of a sunrise. The two young fighters, trapped since the night before and expecting to die at sun up, failed to recognize the irony of this. No two people in the world were praying harder for rain, or at least a cloudy day. Sadly, the brightening sky was cloudless, the start of another beautiful, clear, spring day. What had been a pleasant meadow a month ago, now smelled of old fires, smoke, charcoal, and an alien smell, what could only be described as fresh-cut grass mated with moldy cabbage. ¡°I''m sorry, Nicky. I really thought we could come out at night and kill this thing. Seemed like easy credits. Thought I could get that Galactic Market air-conditioner Mom keeps talking about.¡± The tall gangling 17-year-old boy, Darren, tried to control the frightened quaver in his voice. He struggled against the thousands of tendrils clinging to every inch of his body, making movement impossible. In addition to being trapped since the night before, he had second-degree burns all over his body from using his pyrokinesis gift in an attempt to free himself. The tendrils holding him were made of something impervious to fire, something that also conducted heat very well. His friend, Nicky, had done a little better. The small dark-haired girl had used her telekinetic gift to dislodge and cut through the many tendrils surrounding her. But for every one she cut through, hundreds took its place. In addition, any tendril she cut with her telekinetically controlled knives would stick to her blades, quickly making them useless. She lay there, too exhausted to use her gift, or even move. ¡°Any luck with your cell phone?¡± she asked. Her own was clenched in her right hand. If she twisted her neck just right, she could just barely see the screen. ¡°Mine keeps saying I''m out of range.¡± ¡°Mine''s fried. Galactic Market crap,¡± Darren said. ¡°I''m scared. I should have listened to Mom.¡± Nicky didn''t bother answering. The house-sized alien, resting 100 yards away, slowly expanded with the sunrise. Its leaves unfurled, catching the early morning sun. Each leaf shone like a mirror, reflecting the sun''s light. It was a beautiful thing to watch. The unfurling leaves slowly joined, forming a giant dish hundreds of feet across. The dish''s function was to focus the sun''s light and heat into a small area, say the size of the two young humans it had trapped nearby. The rising sun revealed burnt barren surroundings. Everything for hundreds of yards around the alien had been turned to ash. The two trapped fighters could already feel the heat dispelling the early morning chill, and knew it would soon be much, much hotter. Not even Darren''s fire resistance would be any help. A few human-shaped piles of ash held what might once have been guns or armor, now melted to slag. By noon, the area surrounding the two fighters would be hot enough to melt steel. At first, Darren thought the faint booming noise was from his racing heartbeat, but it quickly grew louder. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. They both twisted their heads in the noise''s direction.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it A group of Tumtum, ogre-like giants came into view. They walked in step, moving like human soldiers in a line, one in front of the other. When the first Tumtum stepped onto the burnt area, millions of tendrils came out of the ground. The Tumtum roared and struggled, but the alien plant''s tendrils slowly brought it down. Then the next Tumtum followed, using the first as a stepping stone. Tendrils tried to pull the second one down too, but it appeared the alien plant had reached its limit. The second Tumtum walked over the first and, barely bothering to struggle, lay down in front of the first. The third Tumtum used the first two to get even closer to the alien plant. Then a fourth, fifth, sixth, each Tumtum moving that much closer to the giant alien plant. ¡°What the hell are they doing?¡± Darren asked. ¡°This may be our lucky day,¡± Nicky said. The Tumtums kept coming. The tenth? Threw a large smoke bomb at the plant. A thick smokey haze soon covered the area, temporarily preventing the plant from focusing the sun. The two humans felt noticeably cooler. ¡°Is it Ian?¡± Darren asked. ¡°No. It''s that other guy with an army of Tumtums.¡± ¡°Wait, there''s someone else?¡± Darren asked. ¡°No, dumb-ass. Course it''s Ian.¡± ¡°Do you sense anything?¡± Darren asked. ¡°No. And that''s creepy. Anyone strong enough to control that many aliens should have an overpowering mental presence. It''s like whoever is doing this isn''t even there.¡± ¡°Maybe you need to put stat points into the telepathy part of your gift.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± There was a loud roar as the remaining Tumtums made it to the giant stem of the alien plant and grabbed it, pushing and pulling it back and forth, until, with a loud cracking noise, it slowly came out of the ground like an obstinate weed, dying moments later with an unearthly scream. The plant, along with its tendrils, vanished. The two fighters were free. With a groan, Darren pulled himself to his feet. He received an announcement from BG. You let Ian Anderson steal your kill. Because you are a loser human who let Ian Anderson steal your kill, you get 0 credits and 0 stat points. Note. If you kill that kill thief, Ian Anderson, you would get a minimum of 1,000,000 credits and many, many stat points. ¡°That''s right, we were just about to kill that plant thing before he showed up. You''re such a bitch, BG,¡± Nicky said. ¡°You got the BGgram too?¡± Darren asked. ¡°Obviously.¡± Nicky pulled herself to her feet. ¡°Oh, my god! It''s him!¡± She rushed forward to get a better look. Darren followed. A Kitykity the size of a small elephant, with a tired-looking human dressed head to toe in armor on its back, passed the Tumtums and entered the hole in the ground created by the alien plant''s death. Ian, the tired rider, dismounted. He walked with a limp and moved like an old man. He held out a bag and signaled to his pet. The ground around the hole seemed to ripple and move, and several bright silver oblong objects, each the size of an American football, floated up and into the bag. ¡°Alien seeds,¡± Nicky said. ¡°Good thinking.¡± She pushed forward, trying for a better look. ¡°Here''s a question,¡± Darren said, tagging along. ¡°If an alien plant is killed, does it turn into an alien tree? Maybe it turns into a useful alien animal?¡± ¡°Ian!¡± Nicky shouted. The man in the distance didn''t respond. Instead, an army of twenty giant Tumtums advanced on them. The sound of the giant alien''s footsteps this close to them was deafening. The two backed away. ¡°We weren''t going to kill you. Honest!¡± Darren shouted. The twenty Tumtums glared at them. ¡°ROAARR!¡± They extended their right arms and pointed. ¡°Are they pointing at our home? Did Ian just say ''go home''?¡± Darren asked. Nicky tried to go around the one in front, only to have it move to block her. ¡°ROAARR!¡± Once again, the Tumtums pointed in the same direction. ¡°Fine, be that way.¡± she backed up slowly. Before turning to leave, they could just make out the tired, old-looking man as he slowly re-mounted his pet and left, taking his Tumtum army with him. Darren''s cell phone started buzzing. ¡°Now it''s working? I thought it was broken.¡± He checked his somewhat scorched phone. ¡°You went after that alien, didn''t you?¡± He read, ¡°Please call me back. I''m worried. I hope you die! Please don''t die! Call me back, now!¡± He groaned. ¡°Mom is going to kill me.¡± ¡°My uncle and brother aren''t happy either,¡± Nicky said, checking her phone. ¡°Hey, I look okay, right?¡± ¡°Suppose. Why?¡± ¡°I did my best to send Ian images of us doing things most guys find exciting. No response.¡± Darren shrugged. ¡°Maybe he''s gay. Suppose I''d have a shot?¡± ¡°He''s not supposed to be. I''m nothing fantastic, but I look decent and it''s not like I''m too young or anything. Most guys around here would take me up on it. He could give me a ride on his pet, and then he''d ride...¡± ¡°His loss,¡± Darren said. ¡°You know you could send me those images?¡± ¡°Fuck off.¡± Chapter 30 - Failure had feet,¡± the patient said, sounding miserable. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Ian-the-Asshole law.¡± And thank god Buddy smelled the cyanide-laced coffee, sent to me by the gatherer''s bosses and owners of Monster Fruit. Like someone mind-killed them. And I will make sure Mrs. Wilcox has no problem winning the next election. Any more threats and I''m putting your drunk ass to sleep. Idiot. He understood his brother being tempted to cheat, but why would he be tempted by her? *** Don''t let her in. Ian mind-spoke to Buddy. Thanks a lot, Buddy. Traitor. He could feel Sabrina''s anger from where she stood in the hallway. ex-husband, was up to something, so I followed him.¡± She took out her cell phone and pulled up a video. ¡°That fat whore. Can you believe he left me for that?¡± Oh brother. Phoebe was much better endowed than Sabrina, but Ian wouldn''t call her fat. ¡°Wow. They''re really going at it. Were you watching from the bedroom ceiling?¡± Oh, brother, he thought, sensing what was to come. When Sabrina cheered someone up, she did not do half-measures. He wasn''t looking forward to the repercussions of what they were about to do, but he also wouldn''t refuse. Chapter 31 - Return of Greta Chaos would be a mild term for what was going on in the council meeting room. distant mountain range,¡± Mrs. Wilcox said. ¡°Why would she leave?¡± This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ''Ian''s children are my children.'' I don''t think she fully understands human reproduction.¡± hatchlings? Will they be eating anyone?¡± she asked. Chapter 32 - The Silver Dragon Great. ¡°Keep in mind this won''t be easy,¡± Ian continued. ¡°The silver dragon is by far the highest level alien we''ve encountered, and when we kill him, the rewards from BG will be considerable. By considerable, I mean the kid who brings us food and coffee before the battle will get at least 10,000 credits.¡± There was quiet laughter from the defenders. Welcome to Fortress politics. Gabe, at this point, detested Ian and wanted to take charge. But if Gabe was in charge, he''d push Ian aside and clash with Greta, an alien he disliked and distrusted. This would likely result in their Fortress wizard getting eaten. Who''s a big boy? You''re so pretty. He was too, covered with green and white scales. Fortunately, he had yet to show aggression towards humans. ¡°Raaaack,¡± the baby dragon agreed. boy hatchling, and mostly ignored him. Humans, on the other hand, would follow Danny around when he wandered the fortress. And because the hotblooded dragon hatchling was always getting cold, a few women even knitted him heavy turtleneck wool sweaters, one of which he was currently wearing. It was bright pink, extending from Danny''s long neck to his tail, with slits cut in it for his legs and wings to poke out of. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. volunteers. Time slowed down, every minute took an eternity. volunteered four psychics convicted of multiple crimes against the Fortress. Their choice had been to help Ian or face immediate execution. TRAITOR tattoos on their faces. They were the grown children of families that betrayed Mrs. Wilcox over a decade before. Shit! They were about to be attacked by a giant tornado on top of everything else! This was something Ian never suspected. The silver dragon was a mile away and coming in fast. THIS IS A SILVER DUMDUM. HUMANS DO NOT EXIST TO HIM. NEVER ATTRACT HIS ATTENTION. The wind howled. There were screams as defenders were picked up and thrown off the ramparts by the wind or hit by flying debris. Ian''s group mind, and the second one hiding behind the defenders, did what they could to prevent them from getting hurt. Shit! He''s trying to reach Danny! Greta had left Danny in a secure nest in the lowest part of the multilevel underground parking lot. FILTH! UNCLEAN! The silver dragon mind spoke, loud enough for even non-psychics to feel his mental broadcast for miles. The silver dragon believed Greta and her child''s association with humans was an abomination to be eradicated from the earth. Fuck you, Ian thought. With an angry roar, Buddy charged, rushing the end of the silver dragon''s tail where it was narrow enough for the elephant-sized being to get its mouth around. Biting down, trying to get its teeth through the silver dragon''s scales, claws slid over the dragon, failing to do damage. Here we go again, he thought, flying hundreds of feet through the air. This was going to hurt. Hope you come through for us, Gabe. Chapter 33 - The Ancient One World Population 50 million A good suit of armor will do more to keep the aspiring monster hunter alive than anything else I can think of. So it''s important to get the best armor you can. ¡°Reckless humans die young.¡± The Seeker of Knowledge''s Guide to Monsters.¡± Zoltron the Mighty Wizard''s Monster Manual, The book BG does not want you to read''.¡± Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. they think Zoltron''s insane,¡± Sir Elisha responded. ¡°Really. That poor man kills a 500-foot-long silver dragon with his mighty magics, but his idiot brother shows up riding a Kitykity and takes all the credit.¡± She giggled. ¡°I just hate it when that happens.¡± did kill a Kitykity. He had this advice. ''If everything goes right, and fortune smiles on you, you will get one shot. Don''t miss''.¡± ¡°I never miss,¡± Sir Elisha said. ¡°I will escort you to the next town. In exchange, you can tell everyone what a great and noble knight I am.¡± that again.¡± Best fortune in the afterlife, idiot, he thought. Tears rolled down his face and dropped to the dirt at his feet. So many of the people he''d crossed paths with in his life, dead. did you kill him?¡± Chapter 34 - Paradise Avenue A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Way to go, Ian, Healer thought. Homesick, He remembered how much it hurt to say goodbye to Sabrina and his eight-year-old daughter, knowing he might never see them again. He loved both more than anything. But he and his brother were going to see this through. One way or another. This would be over soon. Chapter 35 - Never Hug a Hugabug ¡°I''m glad you had fun,¡± Healer said. ¡°Shit.¡± He raised his shotgun and fired at the beach-ball-sized alien insect flying toward them. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Chapter 36 - Healer and Seekers Three Step Plan --Excerpt from The Andre Sagenob Seeker of Knowledge Book on Monsters. Step one: We join The Church of The Ancient One under false identities. Then we wait for our chance to seek The Ancient One and witness him in His godlike glory. merge with this great being. Seeker wasn''t sure he, or his brother, had the courage to throw themselves into The Ancient One''s mouth. Though the Gods knew neither of them had anything holding them back. No wives, children or surviving family members, and very little money. Step two: We give The Ancient One our humble offering. THIS IS THE ANCIENT ONE. A CREATURE SO POWERFUL NO HUMAN OR HUMANS ARE WORTHY TO FACE HIM IN COMBAT. SO HE WAITS FOR A WORTHY ADVERSARY, EVEN IF HE SHOULD WAIT TEN THOUSAND YEARS. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Step three: We run like hell. Seeker''s portal created a dimensional vortex that took them miles from where they''d been at the top of the mountain. Healer and Seeker then went through a second portal, bending space and time again, taking them fifty miles from the first. They waited. Seeker/Gabe''s memory slowly returned. ¡°Cover your eyes,¡± he said. For long seconds, nothing happened. Then a blinding flash lit the sky. Seconds later, a thundering boom knocked them off their feet. The boom was followed by a wave of heat and the horrible scream of a wounded dragon. ¡°You wanted my best, brother? This is my best.¡± Seeker got up and jumped up and down for joy. ¡°BG and her fucking dragon can suck it!¡± he shouted. YOU HELPED KILL THE ANCIENT ONE! YOU ARE KING! KING OF HUMANS! THOUGH I''M SURE ANY NORMAL HUMAN COULD HAVE KILLED THIS GODLIKE BEING IF THEY''D FELT LIKE IT. YOU AND YOUR BROTHER DID SO. YOUR REWARD IS 520 MILLION CREDITS AND UNLIMITED STAT POINTS. YOU HAVE RECEIVED A SUIT OF ARMOR MADE FROM THE ANCIENT ONE''S SKIN. THERE IS NO FINER ARMOR IN THE UNIVERSE. AND YOU HAVE.... The list was a long one. ¡°I received 620 million credits, unlimited stat points, one suit of armor, one psychic amplifying helm, and one wish,¡± said Healer. One Wish. Anything within BG''s power. 1,000,000,000 credits. ¡°I remember what you said,¡± Seeker continued. ¡°''Making a billion credits could take a while''. I pointed out monsters also drop valuable items.¡± Chapter 37 - Stacy Chapter 37 Thirty-Eight Years Post Apocalypse Stacy Stacy woke up in a small, dimly lit room with plain brown walls. Two old men wearing dragon decorated robes were watching her. Normally being alone in a strange room with two old men would be one of those creepy-stranger-danger situations her parents had warned her about, but she still had her guns, and the two old men looked tired and frail. Like a strong breeze could finish them off. ¡°Where am I?¡± she asked. She felt okay, but when she sat up in bed, her blood-stained armor fell apart. ¡°What happened?¡± She pulled up the old men''s displays. One of them was a healer. ¡°I was hurt, wasn''t I?¡± The two men looked at each other. ¡°What do you remember?¡± the healer asked. She tried to think back. She''d been stuck in the Fortress feeling cooped up. Dad wouldn''t let her leave because it was dangerous. Her brothers were about to do something crazy, but that was normal. And then? Stacy shook her head. ¡°I don''t know. What happened?¡± ¡°You were badly hurt,¡± the healer said. ¡°Badly enough so that regen shots weren''t going to cut it. But me and my brother never gave up. It took us a while, but we found your cure. You should be as good as new now.¡± Something about the two old men looked familiar, but she couldn''t place it. She got to her feet, pulled out her guns, examined them, then put them back in their holsters. ¡°There''s a bathroom and shower through that door.¡± The healer gave her a change of clothes (tee-shirt, and blue jeans). ¡°Why don''t you get cleaned up, Stacy. We''ll get us some breakfast.¡± ¡°Where are we?¡± Stacy asked.¡± ¡°We''re in Fort Clark, in what used to be Colorado. After breakfast, we''re taking you home,¡± the healer said. ¡°I should warn you, the Fortress may have changed while you were gone.¡± Stacy was thrilled to find the shower had hot water. Back at the Fortress, hot water was a rare commodity. It was a long time before she came out. She found the two old men talking quietly over breakfast. Their room''s small table now held plates of food they must have gotten from the kitchen. ¡°They were good people,¡± the healer said. ¡°They took us in when nobody else would.¡± ¡°They were idiots,¡± the seeker of knowledge said. ¡°They were going to feed themselves to that thing, anyway. We knew if our plan worked, there would be collateral damage.¡± ¡°We killed over a hundred people,¡± the healer said, looking anguished. ¡°So who are The Twin Kings?¡± Stacy asked, joining them at the table and helping herself to some pancakes. ¡°BG says The Twin Kings of humanity are here in Fort Clark, and I should seek them out to see what all humans should aspire to.¡± ¡°BG''s being more annoying than usual,¡± said the healer. ¡°The Twin Kings are actually rather boring.¡± He ate a sausage and washed it down with coffee. ¡°Look, Stacy, we should tell you, in order to get what we needed to heal you, we had to find, and kill, a certain alien.¡± ¡°It couldn''t have been that tough an alien for you guys to have killed it,¡± Stacy said, stuffing pancake into her mouth. The Seeker of Knowledge coughed violently, spraying coffee droplets all over the small table. It took some time before he could catch his breath. ¡°No offense,¡± Stacy continued, ¡°but one of you is a healer and the other''s a scholar.¡± ¡°No, no, that''s fair,¡± Healer said. ¡°We snuck up on it and threw a bomb.¡± ¡°Three bombs, that I made,¡± Seeker said, sounding indignant, ¡°and it was a very big tough alien.¡± ¡°The point is,¡± Healer continued, ¡°the alien we killed was the favorite alien of a group of humans.¡± ¡°Crazy humans,¡± Seeker said. ¡°Crazy humans who are very upset with us,¡± Healer continued. ¡°So we would like to leave this town quickly and quietly as possible. As soon as you finish your breakfast, put on the armor we got for you. We''re leaving.¡± *** ¡°This armor smells,¡± Stacy complained, holding up an ugly, well-used helm. ¡°That''s to disguise the fine materials and craftsmanship,¡± said Seeker. ¡°If people knew about the high-quality expensive materials in that armor, many would try to kill you for it.¡± ¡°Really?¡± said Stacy, looking at the armor again. It still looked and felt like flimsy, cheap plastic. It was hard to imagine it protecting her. ¡°He''s joking,¡± Healer said. ¡°We bought it from a nice family whose girl had outgrown it. Now quit complaining and put it on.¡± ¡°How did you transport my body here?¡± Stacy asked. She didn''t see any kind of stretcher. ¡°If I was in a hospital, wouldn''t they have removed my armor and guns?¡± ¡°The answer is complicated and will take time to explain,¡± Healer said. ¡°We are about to have company. Right now I need you to stay out of the way, and let me do the talking.¡± Stacy heard the sound of loud footsteps approaching. The door exploded inward, and men with guns poured inside. The two old men''s arms and legs were instantly bound with silver shackles. For some reason, the armed men seemed to barely notice Stacy as she stood quietly in the corner. ¡°All clear!¡± someone shouted. A man in bright red and orange robes and weighed down with gold rings and necklaces came into the room. He was followed by a small, middle-aged woman. ¡°I hope you''re paying for that door,¡± the woman was saying. ¡°Your Excellency! It is an honor to meet you,¡± Healer said, somehow standing up despite his shackles. ¡°These are the two men I told you about,¡± the woman said. ¡°They couldn''t possibly be the ones you''re after. They showed up at my place minutes after the explosion.¡± ¡°We''ll see,¡± said His Excellency. ¡°According to BG, The Twin Kings are nearby.¡± ¡°We came from the southernmost ministry,¡± Healer said. ¡°We traveled for over a month. If we hadn''t made a wrong turn twenty miles back, we''d have met The Ancient One by now.¡± ¡°Psychic!¡± His Excellency said. ¡°Check them out.¡± A small man wearing a glass eye pendant came in. He put his hands on Seeker''s head, then Healer''s. ¡°Over one hundred of our people are dead, thanks to The Twin Kings!¡± His Excellency said. ¡°And many many more are wounded. The Ancient One has temporarily left our world, but we have faith He will return soon. There is no hell hot enough for those monsters!¡± ¡°That is so horrible,¡± Healer said. Stacy remembered what the old men were saying earlier. Could they have possibly killed over a hundred people? ¡°Their story checks out, Your Excellency,¡± the psychic said. ¡°The Seeker of Knowledge has a mind shield, but his older brother does not. They are indeed who they say.¡± ¡°Older brother, hmmph,¡± Seeker said quietly. His Excellency pulled out his cellphone and seemed to be looking at pictures. ¡°We''re taking the two of you with us. Don''t be afraid. If you''re telling the truth, no harm will come to you.¡± Stacy didn''t wait to hear what they''d say next. She slipped past the guards and out the broken door, finding herself in a hallway. The only one who noticed her was the elderly woman who''d complained about the door earlier. ¡°Who''s that girl?¡± the elderly woman asked. ¡°She''s not one of your serving girls?¡± His Excellency responded. ¡°I''ve never seen her before in my life,¡± the elderly woman said. Stacy started running down the hallway. She wasn''t sure what was going on, but things were getting scary. She made it to the end of the hall and ran down a flight of stairs. Seeing a door labeled EXIT, she pushed on it. It was locked; she pulled out her guns. Her guns, at least, were in good working order. One shot destroyed the lock, and the door swung open. Outside Stacy was blinded by sunlight and deluged with sights and smells. A woman ran out and scooped up her kids with the two sets of tentacles that came out below her arms, pulling them inside their small house to safety. It was easy to see why. Men like the ones who''d broken into their room were everywhere. Fort Clark was surrounded by walls and guard posts that towered over the homes and buildings they protected. Two giant, ogre-like tumtums stood outside the fort, looking down on them. Both tumtums carried metal frames that rested on their shoulders. The metal frames comprised a latticework of metal rods used to form platforms and handholds for the hundreds of men and women using the frame for transport. Some of those men and women used jet packs to fly into town while others were lowered to the ground with ropes. ¡°Princess Stacy Kid Barbie, please come with us,¡± said a voice from behind her.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Stacy spun around. The man speaking to her was floating in the air, but, unlike the others she could see, he had no wings or jet pack. He was a short man with black hair, and something about his armor made her nervous. It was gray and looked like millions of tiny plates joined together. ¡°I''m not a princess,¡± Stacy said. Then she checked her display. In front of her name, Stacy Kid Barbie was the word PRINCESS in large pink letters. ¡°I hate princesses. Why would BG make me a princess?¡± ¡°It will be okay, your highness,¡± the floating man said. ¡°You need to come with me now.¡± Stacy felt a strange tickling sensation on her mind as the man came closer. She backed away and pulled out her pistols. ¡°How about you back off?¡± She was deafened by the sound of gunfire. Multiple impacts slammed into her head and body, sending her flying backwards. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground, unable to do anything but fight for breath. ¡°We needed her for questioning you idiots!¡± the man shouted. ¡°She pulled her guns on you, Xavier. What were we supposed to do?¡± someone responded. ¡°You were supposed to shoot the things that grow back!¡± Xavier responded. ¡°Like the arms and legs. I asked for a small well-trained team, but no, they had to send you guys.¡± ¡°We could call in the brain eater,¡± the other man replied, trying to be helpful. ¡°Just put her head in an icebox so it stays fresh.¡± ¡°I have yet to see any useful information come out of that brain-eating ghoul,¡± Xavier said. He walked over to Stacy and nudged her with his foot. ¡°Looks like you are in luck. Our little princess has very good armor.¡± Xavier put his foot on Stacy''s badly bruised chest, causing her to moan. He removed her helm and took her pistols. ¡°Very good armor indeed. So, your highness, it''s obvious you have wealthy, powerful friends, and you''re not from around here. Now tell us what you know about The Twin Kings.¡± ¡°I don''t know anything,¡± she gasped out, still trying to breathe. ¡°I woke up in this room with two old men. They said they killed this big alien, then this excellency guy came in and arrested them.¡± ¡°Could they have messed with your memory?¡± Xavier said. ¡°Why don''t I take a look.¡± He put his hands on her head. She felt pressure on her mind build, then vanish. ¡°Shit!¡± he said, shaking his head. ¡°Very good armor, and a very good mind shield. But unless Zoltron the Mighty Wizard shows up to save you, neither will protect you for long. His Excellency knows many ways to get a little princess to spill her guts.¡± Xavier pushed his foot harder against her chest where she''d been shot, making her gasp. ¡°I''ll start by examining your armor.¡± He pulled a strip of plastic from her breastplate. ¡°Wait, Zoltron the Mighty Wizard?¡± she gasped out. ¡°I was joking. He''s a crazy old man from the South,¡± Xavier said. ¡°I know him,¡± she gasped out. There was no way two people could be dorky enough to choose that name. Stacy looked down at her chest plate. Where the plastic had come off, there was something bright and silvery underneath. ¡°You do? Fascinating,¡± Xavier said, clearly not believing her. There was a deafening roar and the sound of a stone wall exploding inward. When she looked up, she screamed and tried to push herself backward. She remembered everything. Back at the Fortress, she''d been about to take a shot at a Kitykity and it had lunged at her and... The Kitykity charging her now was over twice as big as the one she''d tried to shoot, and this one looked really angry and had brought friends. Smaller Kitykity poured through the gap the big one had just made in the stone wall. She heard gunfire. Gravel and rocks were floating around the big Kitykity. It used the rocks and gravel as a shield. Bullets and crossbow bolts bounced off the wall of dirt and gravel it had created. Xavier dropped Stacy''s guns and helm and ran away, fast. Stacy curled into a ball, shaking, her eyes squeezed shut. She couldn''t watch, but she could hear and feel it come up to her¡ªand stop. The creature sniffed her. Then she felt as much as heard the word¡ª¡°FAMILY.¡± Her helm was pushed down over her head. Her guns were returned to their holsters. A swishing noise, and the manacles came off her hands and legs. She opened her eyes in time to see the monster turning away. The other Kitykity were nearby, watching. As one, every Kitykity turned toward the soldiers. They let out a thunderous ¡°ROARRRRR!¡± It was more than noise: it was a psychic energy wave that hurled the armed men backward. The two giant tumtums screamed and ran, their riders hanging on desperately. She heard giant wings flapping and the roar of flames coming from a distant flying creature. The Kitykity remained nearby, protecting her. A silent voice went through her head. ¡°EVERYBODY STAY CALM. GO TO YOUR SHELTERS. DO NOT DO ANYTHING THAT MIGHT UPSET MY ALIENS. NOBODY ELSE NEEDS TO GET HURT TODAY. MY COMPANIONS AND I WILL BE LEAVING SOON.¡± Stacy saw the two men through the smoke. They both now wore shiny platinum-colored metallic armor under their robes. ¡°When did you get to be the older brother?¡± Seeker was saying. "I''m older by exactly 48 minutes.¡± ¡°Would you prefer I told the truth? I was trying to avoid more killing,¡± Healer said. ¡°Besides, I look older.¡± They walked up to Stacy, ignoring the Kitykity nearby. ¡°Stacy, if you get killed again, I''m not bringing you back!¡± Healer snapped. ¡°It hasn''t been a day yet and you''re already getting shot! Didn''t Dad tell you not to pull guns on armed crazy people? All you had to do was stay quiet and out of the way, but no, you had to run off!¡± Stacy was shaking and crying. It was a long time before she recovered enough to answer. ¡°You killed a bunch of people. I was trying to scare the guy off, and you sound just like my dad.¡± ¡°I''m not Dad, thank god,¡± said Healer, ¡°but now I have a lot more sympathy for the old bastard.¡± The large Kitykity came up to the two old men, bumping Healer with the side of its head. ¡°FAMILY,¡± the elephant-sized alien said, bouncing up and down like an excited puppy. ¡°And you were supposed to follow at a distance,¡± Healer said to the giant creature. ¡°I told you to stay out of the way, and not to frighten the local humans. You almost gave us away several times, you idiot. And you recruited ten younger Kitykity to join you? How and why?¡± ¡°Because whenever I do some amazing bit of wizardry, my idiot, and let me stress, nonidentical, twin brother has to show up with a bunch of damn aliens to take all the credit!¡± said Seeker, answering for the Kitykity. ¡°I summoned two of them to protect Stacy,¡± Healer said defending himself, ¡°I had nothing to do with the other ten.¡± ¡°FAMILY,¡± Buddy said, nudging Healer again with its nose. ¡°Does it have a one-word vocabulary?¡± Stacy asked. ¡°Buddy is very smart,¡± Healer said. ¡°Family is a difficult concept for Kitykity because they reproduce by some kind of asexual budding process.¡± He raised his hand over his head and rubbed the top of Buddy''s nose. ¡°I was eighteen. I''d killed over fifty of these things when I found this one as a baby. It would have been an easy kill, but I couldn''t do it.¡± Buddy nudged Healer with its forehead. ¡°FATHER,¡± All the other Kitykity crowded around, taking turns lowering their heads and nudging Healer gently. He put his hand on each of the Kitykity''s heads. Good grief, she thought. Had this Buddy started a Kitykity cult? ¡°It will be okay, Stacy,¡± Healer said. ¡°The world is a scary place, but as long as you''re with us, you''ll be safe.¡± From the nearby house with the strange woman and her kids, Stacy saw a tentacle in a window holding a cell phone. The tentacled woman was recording them. Ian had a small T-shaped scar on the right side of his forehead from falling out of a tree when he was eight. That same scar was on the old healer''s head. The Twin Kings. Stacy thought, shuddering as everything fell into place. She realized who The Twin Kings were, and why the two old men seemed so familiar. She did what she should have done at the beginning. Pulled up her stat sheet. Name Stacy AKA Princess Kid Barbie I know you don''t like princesses, but I have to make you one. Sorry. Sex Female Age Biological age 12. Time passed since birth 50 years Physical Attributes 6.9 With 10 being an Olympic athlete and 1 being an invalid in a wheelchair, you are a 6.9 Mental Attributes 7.6 With 10 being a super genius and 1 being severely retarded, you are a 7.6 Status among peers Heroic! Your peers believe you died in the most heroic fashion, defending the Fortress from filthy alien scum! Claims to fame Too many heroic actions to mention. A statue of you has been erected in your honor, a statue that is far too small, in my opinion. Please keep in mind death is nothing to be ashamed of, Stacy. Humans die all the time. You''ve been brought back to life because your idiot brothers, now known as The Twin Kings, killed a big alien and wanted me to bring you back as a reward. I''m sure anyone else could have killed The Ancient One if they''d felt like it. Special abilities Superior marksmanship with a pistol, or other firearm. Has a character build that specializes in hunting zombies. ¡°The two of you haven''t changed a bit, except for getting really old,¡± Stacy said, still shaking from shock. ¡°BG says it''s been thirty-eight years? How did you bring me back?¡± ¡°It was my idea,¡± Gabe said. ¡°I knew BG could bring you back. But it took us a while to convince her to do it. It would have been sooner if we''d done things my way.¡± ¡°If you''d gotten us killed, you mean. A frontal assault on The Ancient One would have been suicide,¡± Ian said, still surrounded by a crowd of Kitykity. ¡°But He was sleeping.¡± ¡°If you are The Twin Kings? how did you change your displays?¡± Stacy asked. ¡°I thought that was impossible.¡± ¡°It is,¡± said Gabe, ¡°But if you have a million credits and know a certain master wizard, namely me, a fake display can be made to cover your real one.¡± ¡°Could you cover up the princess on mine?¡± She asked. ¡°I hate princesses.¡± ¡°We''ll see,¡± Gabe said. ¡°We have a number of long stories to tell you,¡± Ian said, ¡°and plenty of time to tell them on the way home. Dad is looking forward to seeing you again. He''s turning seventy-eight, but thanks to life extension treatments, the old bastard doesn''t look a year over seventy.¡± ¡°I believe it''s traditional for the wizard to ride the dragon,¡± said Gabe. ¡°And somebody promised.¡± ¡°Give me a second,¡± Ian said. Less than a minute later, a green-and-white thirty-foot-long dragon landed nearby, and let out a loud roar. The Kitykity all glanced resentfully in the dragon''s direction, but otherwise ignored him. ¡°Danny is only twenty-three years old. He''s still an infant, so be gentle. And watch out for teeth, claws, fire. Oh, who''s a big boy? Yes, you are,¡± he said the last to Danny, petting the dragon''s green scaly head. ¡°How many aliens does he have?¡± Stacy asked Gabe, wide-eyed. She couldn''t believe how much had changed. ¡°Danny''s nothing,¡± Gabe said with a chuckle. ¡°Wait till you meet Greta. She''s known for eating humans who upset her, but for some reason, she thinks Ian''s her mate.¡± ¡°Don''t go near Greta unless I''m present, Stacy. Greta scares me, and she''s technically my companion,¡± Ian said. They put a saddle on Danny, and soon Gabe was in the air, circling them. ¡°Why don''t I have the title of dragon rider?¡± Gabe grumbled loudly from the air. ¡°Because you''re riding my dragon, you idiot,¡± Ian said quietly. Buddy gently picked up Stacy and put her on its back, then did the same for Ian. ¡°Gabe gets airsick on dragons,¡± Ian said. ¡°He''ll be joining us within a day. Stacy, be very careful around my aliens. They are not pets. Buddy, however, understands family, and sister, and will defend you with its life.¡± ¡°Why did BG make me a princess?¡± Stacy asked. ¡°Be glad she didn''t make you a king. That would have been weird,¡± Ian replied. ¡°How did you get away from that guy with all the gold jewelry?¡± Stacy asked. ¡°I was trying to avoid hurting anyone, but you got shot, so I used my gift to knock out everyone in the hotel and Gabe got us out of the shackles.¡± Ian activated his psychic amplifying helm. He sent out a message that went for hundreds of miles. ¡°GREETINGS. THIS IS IAN ANDERSON, AKA LORD IAN MIND MASTER AKA THE BEAST MASTER, THE DRAGON-RIDER, AND A BUNCH OF OTHER BS TITLES THAT MEAN NOTHING. MY BROTHER IS GABE ANDERSON AKA ZOLTRON THE MIGHTY WIZARD. HE DID KILL A SILVER DRAGON, AND HE JUST KILLED THE ANCIENT ONE. WE ARE THE TWIN KINGS. WE HAVE NO WISH TO FIGHT, BUT WE WILL IF WE MUST. WE DON''T REGRET KILLING THE ANCIENT ONE, BUT WE REGRET THE HUMANS KILLED IN THE PROCESS. WE WILL COMPENSATE THE FAMILIES OF THE VICTIMS WHEN WE AGREE HOW BEST TO DO SO. THE GIRL ACCOMPANYING US IS OUR SISTER. SHE IS NOT PART OF THIS CONFLICT. SHE HAS COME INTO OUR CARE AND WE ARE TAKING HER HOME. YOU MAY REST ASSURED SHE IS UNDER OUR PROTECTION.¡± THE END FOR NOW