《Dawn of the Void - a LitRPG Apocalypse》 Chapter 1: Nemesis 60,000-year countdown has ended Nemesis 1 released Please acknowledge James blinked blearily and swiped his gloved hand at the glowing letters. They didn¡¯t disappear. He frowned, turned away, and they tracked with his line of sight, bright green against a subtly darker rectangle, hovering in mid-air at a distance of some three feet from his face. He tried to turn away again, but the center arms on the wooden bench were designed to keep people like him from getting too comfortable. Didn¡¯t stop him from trying, though. ¡°Damn it,¡± he hissed at last, and sat up. It was cold. His breath misted in the air. He looked around. The subway platform was empty. The fluorescent bulbs in their long casings filled the air with toxic white light. The tracks on either side of the platform were endless black strips of rusted rails, old wooden ties, and the shifting, scurrying form of New York City¡¯s truest citizens, the rats. He was all alone down here. ¡°What the hell?¡± James rubbed at his eyes and then frowned at the green lettering. His head swam from the last effects of the wine he¡¯d finished earlier that night. But the green letters were crisp and clear. And they weren¡¯t going anywhere. Too steady and weird to be a hallucination. Some form of new advertising? Who the fuck would bother marketing to him, though? And this wasn¡¯t selling anything. It was threatening. Nemesis 1? Had the government implanted something in his head? Some sort of ocular overlay? He¡¯d been in the hospital six months ago when that asshole had swerved to hit him on purpose. Concussion, broken left leg, broken ribs. Had the hospital staff realized he¡¯d never pay, and installed something to keep track of him? James screwed up his face in annoyance. Didn¡¯t make sense. The message would be about hospital bills if so. Again, he waved his hand before his face, then stopped. The lettering disappeared when his hand interposed itself. If it was an ocular projection, they¡¯d simply ripple over his palm. But no. He could block them out. Which meant they weren¡¯t originating from him. James sat up a little more. Again, he looked up and down the platform. Nobody. Were there cameras? Was he on a reality show? Hell, was he still asleep? James slapped his bearded cheek. Slapped himself harder. The words remained in the air before him. Fully awake now, he read them again. 60,000 year count down. What was that about? Humans had discovered agriculture twelve thousand years ago. What had started fifty thousand years before that? And who¡¯d been around to start a count down? Aliens? Nah. Nemesis 1 released. Code for some sort of virus? Military operation? Some kind of crazy gamer thing? No idea. The last line though was a question. ¡°Acknowledged,¡± he rasped and the words disappeared abruptly. James jerked back, surprised, and looked up and down the platform again. Silence. The trains ran twice an hour this deep into the night. The white lights blared down onto the bright yellow stippled strips on the platform¡¯s edges. The white tiles on the walls beyond the tracks seemed to glow. The tunnel mouths at either end were cavernous and hungry. Ominous, somehow. Had he activated something? Instincts honed by five years living on the streets told him it was time to go. He rose, slung his grubby backpack over one shoulder, and started making his way toward the broad staircase that led up to the station and then the street. Panicked squeaks. All the rats were suddenly pouring down the tracks, dozens of them, racing in unison away from the left tunnel mouth just beyond the stairs. James froze. He¡¯d seen New York rats ignore trains, empty cans thrown at them, flaunting their ownership of the city. Nothing scared a big city rat. He squinted into the darkness. The bright lights ruined his dark vision. He shielded his eyes. The darkness was almost impenetrable. Almost. Was that movement? Yes. Something was approaching. Small. Walking. Drawing closer to the light from the depths. James felt his gut clench. A child? He knew it was no child, but he couldn¡¯t shake a lifetime of being raised in the normal world that easily. ¡°Hey, you a kid?¡± It was a ridiculous thing to shout out. ¡°Hey. You all right in there?¡± The small, shadowed shape paused. Then it made a hissing sound that caused the hairs on James¡¯ arms to prickle, his mouth to dry up, and for him to take an involuntary step backward. Not a hiss. An inhuman giggle. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Fuck this,¡± he whispered, and ran the last dozen yards over the gray tiles to the base of the steps. His left leg twinged with pain as he hauled himself up the stairs, breathing harshly. The ticket station was closed. The magazine kiosk had its roller metal awning pulled all the way down and padlocked. Turnstiles gleamed; their arms endlessly polished by passengers pushing through. Movie posters on the walls, trash kicked across the floor. Still nobody. He went to leg it up the final flight of stairs to the street but paused to glance back down to the platform. He couldn¡¯t help it. The small figure had stepped into view. It weren¡¯t no kid. Small, wiry, two feet tall, it looked like one of the gremlins from the 80¡¯s movie. Batwing ears, triangular face, mouth filled with needle-like teeth, eyes like twin rubies with vertical black pupils shoved into its head. Naked and sexless, it was covered in black, scaly skin like an iguana, and each finger ended in inch-long talons. Even from the top of the stairs James could tell they were wickedly sharp. ¡°What the fuck,¡± he croaked. The¡­ gremlin? It grinned at him. There was no mistaking the malice behind its widening smile, the intelligence gleaming in its red eyes. It crouched as if about to leap up the stairs at him. James ran. Didn¡¯t even feel his left leg. He burst through the exit turnstile, pounded across the station, took the next set of steps three at a time. Once he¡¯d been in great shape. For a second he felt as if his old body had been returned to him. He flew up the stairs and burst out onto the street, gasping and panting. The irrational fear that he¡¯d emerge into a deserted world was immediately dispelled. Cars rolled down the street, even at this hour. The bar across the way blared a Journey song into the bitter cold night. The restaurants and shops were closed, sure, but here and there people were still out. A small group of college kids, drunk and laughing and making their way to their next destination. Another homeless dude in a doorway, layered up in old sleeping bags and blankets, barely visible. The sounds of the city washed over him. The distant rumble of a train. Honks from the Flushing Avenue a few blocks away. A crowd singing to the Journey song with raucous abandon. Reality. James passed his hand over his sweaty brow. His heart was pounding. A dream. No, a hallucination. Something wrong with him. A bad trip, though he¡¯d not taken anything. Trembling with the excess of adrenaline, he took a deep breath and looked down into the subway station, confident that he¡¯d see nothing, that the bad juju was over. Nothing like some cold February night air to wash the madness out of your system. The gremlin was making its way up the stairs, eyes locked on him. James let out a cry and stumbled back. Ran into the street. A car slammed on its horn as it swerved around him. James nearly fell, his backpack sliding down to the crook of his elbow. He ran across both lanes to the bar. Paddy¡¯s Luck. Big windows revealed the crowded interior. TV screens high above the bar, the last of the crowd around cocktail tables or bellied up. A galaxy of bottles gleaming from the backlighting. Three guys stood by the front door, two smoking, one clearly working. ¡°Hey, whoa,¡± said the bouncer. ¡°You all right there, brother?¡± James couldn¡¯t go in. Places like Paddy¡¯s Luck weren¡¯t for the likes of him. But he ignored the bouncer, looked back, saw the gremlin emerge into the open, its manner hesitant. ¡°There,¡± he said, pointing. ¡°You see that?¡± The three men looked at the subway entrance. Their expressions were blank. Mystified. ¡°The 43rd street station?¡± asked the bouncer. James thrust his finger back at the gremlin. ¡°No! That thing! The¡­ the gremlin thing, there, right there!¡± The gremlin crouched upon the sidewalk, glanced back and forth as if learning how the cars moved, then grinned and began to lope across the street toward them when traffic died. ¡°Don¡¯t see nothing, brother man,¡± said the bouncer. ¡°Look, you want me to call someone? Friendship House is only a dozen blocks away¡­¡± James felt his mind warp under the stress. The gremlin was there. The way the city lights played off its wiry body, the animal-like manner with which it ran across the lanes, he couldn¡¯t be making that up. But the three guys didn¡¯t see it. Was this it? Had he finally cracked? It wasn¡¯t textbook. But perhaps schizophrenia? A brain tumor? Lewy body dementia? Charles Bonnet syndrome? But his instincts told him no. That thing was no hallucination. Hallucinations weren¡¯t introduced by floating green text. Regardless, basic survival instincts told him to keep it the hell away. Hallucination or not, he wasn¡¯t going to let it get close. James darted into Paddy¡¯s. ¡°Hey!¡± shouted the bouncer angrily. ¡°You can¡¯t -¡± The air became warm, filled with the smells of sweat, cologne, booze. People mostly ignored him, which forced him to shove past, earning angry words that turned into recoil and shock. Party kids didn¡¯t like seeing homeless dudes in their bar. James glanced back. The bouncer was surging after him, all kindness gone, expression like a closed fist. But the gremlin had also entered the bar. James caught a flash of its black scaled form as it slid ahead of the bouncer, fast and nimble in the crowd. ¡°Get out of the way!¡± hollered James, abandoning his backpack as it became entangled in the press. He¡¯d never make the rear of the place. He needed high ground. He shoved his way up to the bar. Drinks spilled, people shouted, and one of the bartenders scowled at him, a huge dude with tattoo sleeves up both arms. Where was it? Where was it? James had to get out of the press of bodies. He slammed a filthy hand on the glowing white bar and heaved himself up. There was still some of that old strength in him. Up he hoisted himself, knocking more bottles and glasses over, onto his knees, to turn and stare down at the ground. The whole bar was staring at him now, ignoring the ending to the song, the singing having died down. The bouncer was there, reaching up for him, and he felt a strong hand grab his pants by the knee. But the gremlin. There. Eyes burning like twin embers in the gloom by the floor. It grinned up at him and then, like a flea, it leaped. James screamed as it latched onto his chest, talons cutting through his thick army jacket, weirdly light but viciously strong. It was all ropy muscle and sinew. James tried to wrest it away, but it jerked forward and bit into the side of his neck. He didn¡¯t feel much pain, or, there was pain, but it was clinical. Sheer adrenaline kept him going. He grasped the gremlin by the throat and shoved it away. It came off with a chunk of flesh in its mouth. Blood splattered over the white bar, over the upturned faces, over the bouncer¡¯s outstretched arms. The music was blaring, but a moment later screams filled the air as college kids turned to each other, wide eyed with horror and panic, blood running down their cheeks. The bouncer froze. The gremlin squirmed in James¡¯ grip. But he wasn¡¯t going to let it get away. It lacerated the sleeves of his thick coat, shredding the stiff canvas material. James shook it, but this was going nowhere. He needed to kill it. With a shout he dropped to the bar and slammed the gremlin as hard as he could against its white glowing surface. The thick plexiglass cracked as the gremlin¡¯s head bounced off it. Still, it hissed and scratched, tearing at his arms now. Blood was pouring from James¡¯ neck, stark and crimson on the luminous bar, smearing as the gremlin wrenched this way and that. But James was bigger. Fear, doubt, panic, all of it went away. Leaving only cold fury. His old fury, his truest companion. A fury that was always with him, but always undirected, or pointed at himself. Finally, though, in this moment, he had something to take it out on. He grabbed a bottle by the neck. Liquid flowed out the open top as he raised it up on high and clubbed the gremlin¡¯s hideous face. Again. And again. And again. The bartender had him by the waist, was trying to pull him off the bar. But James was rigid. He smashed the bottle till the gremlin¡¯s skull split, till black blood poured out to mix with his red, till brains oozed out and its arms and legs ceased twitching. The crowd was shoving away, making it hard for the other bouncers to get to him, but the bartender was bigger than all of them put together and finally heaved James down onto the rubber mat that covered the floor behind the bar. The guy was shouting something down at him, but James had ceased struggling. He knew he had to apply pressure to his wound, that somebody needed to call 911, that he was entering shock, that depending on how much blood he¡¯d lost he didn¡¯t have much time. But he stared past the bartender¡¯s pale smear of a face at where new words had appeared, somehow precise and legible even as the rest of the world grew blurry and then faded away: Nemesis 1 Defeated Personal Statistics Unlocked You are #2,789 to survive Global First Wave Nemesis 1 Incursion Title Earned: Vanguard 4 Days till Nemesis 2 Released 90 Days till Pits Open Dawn of the Void has begun Chapter 2: This Makes Total Sense James emerged smoothly from his sleep. He was propped up on a clean bed. There were people around him, doctors, nurses, but they were paying attention to other people. He was groggy. He¡¯d been given anesthesia, he realized. Bright lights overhead, that old, familiar smell. An Emergency Room. He forced himself to relax. To work his thoughts through the fug of chemicals and exhaustion. Not in the Day Surgery Unit, so it couldn¡¯t have been too serious. Then again, how many patients were being seen to right now? A row of ten beds extended right down the length of the ER and into the broad hallway that terminated in double doors leading to surgery. A young man was seated on the edge of the next bed over in a hospital gown, a nurse taking his vitals, sterilized bandages wrapped around his arm and shoulder. Everyone down the length of the ER was similarly bandaged to one degree or another. Twisting his head, James saw that they were double stacked. His row was set out before the partitioned cubicles in which more people lay recovering. It was all so familiar. The codes being called out, the murmur of voices, the tapestry of groans and whimpers, the rapid tread of shoes on linoleum. The chemical smells, the strong antiseptic. The gremlin. He saw it pinned on the bar as he clubbed it to death. James¡¯ whole body tensed and he sat up, the IV tubes entering his arm swinging. Saline. Blood. He raised his hand to his neck. Stiff, thickly layered bandages were wrapped over the bite wound. His arms were also wrapped from the wrists to the elbows. ¡°Hello Mr. Kelly.¡± A nurse stopped by his bed. She studied her tablet, tapped it quickly, scrolled, tapped, looked up at him and smiled. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± ¡°Fine,¡± he rasped. ¡°That¡¯s good. No pain?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Nausea?¡± ¡°None.¡± ¡°Good, good.¡± She looked past him at a mobile vital signs machine, made more notes, then scrutinized his bandages. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± asked James, looking around the packed ER. ¡°Why¡¯s this place so crowded?¡± Though he already knew. She ignored his question. ¡°You lost a good amount of blood and took a nasty bite to the side of your neck. But we¡¯ve taken good care of you, and you should be ready for discharge soon.¡± James frowned. ¡°I don¡¯t need to talk to the cops?¡± ¡°Mmm.¡± She tapped on her tablet again. ¡°Normally, with the disorderly conduct, yes. Tonight? We¡¯re stretched too thin, and the police¡­ well. They¡¯re busy? Your report says you cut yourself with a bottle, but clearly you suffered a dog bite, so. No cops.¡± ¡°These other folks. They were also attacked?¡± The nurse hesitated. ¡°Ye-es.¡± She clearly didn¡¯t want to talk about it. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ it¡¯s been a weird night. Now, we¡¯ve got you on Amoxicillin, and you¡¯ll need to pick up more on your way out along with your pain medication. Dog bites can be quite nasty -¡± ¡°This wasn¡¯t a dog bite.¡± The nurse hesitated again. Blinked, and visibly decided to not have heard him. ¡°Unfortunately, I¡¯ve got to keep moving, but ring if the pain increases.¡± And with that she hit him with her patented smile and walked away. What the hell? None of it was supposed to work like this. ¡°Hilarious, isn¡¯t it?¡± A woman in her early thirties lay in the bed to his left, forearm bandaged but wearing her street clothes, a little black dress and knee-high boots. Even from where he lay James could smell the booze and cigarette smoke off of her, and from the smeared make-up it was obvious she¡¯d been sobbing hard not too long ago. She was composed now, though, and some part of him registered that she¡¯d been beautiful, once; but like almost everyone he knew, she clearly lived hard and suffered from it. ¡°Rabies.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°They¡¯re trying so, so hard to believe the city was invaded by an army of rabid raccoons. It¡¯s adorable.¡± James¡¯s instinct was to just get out, but he needed more information. Confirmation that he wasn¡¯t going insane. ¡°You were attacked?¡± ¡°Little shit with huge ears? Worst come on in the world. And trust me, that¡¯s a high bar. There I was at Kill Switch, trying, just¡­ like, innocently trying to do a line when these words appeared, and I was like, oh shit, this stuff is good, but then¡­¡± She waved a hand. ¡°He showed up¡­¡± James leaned closely. ¡°So, you acknowledged, or whatever?¡± ¡°I think so?¡± She blinked at him. ¡°He came out of one of the stalls. When nobody else screamed, I was convinced I was on a bad trip, but then the little shit bit me.¡± James tried to picture it. Some lurid club bathroom, women peering into the mirror, none of them reacting to the gremlin. ¡°How¡¯d you get away with just the one bite?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± She closed her eyes. ¡°I shot it. Glock 43. Never leave home without it. Man, you should have heard those bitches scream¡­¡± There was more he wanted to ask her, but his skin was crawling. He had to get out of here. He pulled the tape off the inside of his elbow and pulled the IV out. No cotton swab or bandage to staunch the blood, but he didn¡¯t give a shit. Instead, he stood, found his legs shaky, but after a second knew he could walk out. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Which was¡­ impressive. Given what he¡¯d been through. No matter. He¡¯d figure that out later. ¡°Where you going?¡± asked the woman. ¡°Away from here.¡± She looked around, a calculating expression crossing her face, then nodded. ¡°You know what? That¡¯s a good idea. I¡¯m supposed to talk to the cops, but seeing as there aren¡¯t any around¡­¡± With no IV, she simply swung her legs over and stood. Tottered for a moment, then caught her balance. ¡°There.¡± James didn¡¯t wait for her. He navigated the press till he reached the supervisor on duty at her station and demanded his belongings back. ¡°Sir,¡± she began tiredly, ¡°you¡¯re not cleared to leave just yet, we need to monitor -¡± He caught her gaze and held it. ¡°I wish to be discharged. Now. I understand the risks. I have no complaints. Please bring me my stuff.¡± The woman was clearly exhausted and at the limits of her patience. ¡°Fine. You know what? Fine. Get dressed then talk to the front desk about your insurance situation.¡± A moment later his clothing and belongings were handed to him in a clear bag, along with his prescriptions. He stepped into a triage room by the entrance to the ER lobby and got dressed. His heavy coat was ruined. James considered wearing it anyways, then sighed and gave it up for lost. Too much blood, too many tears. Damn it. He¡¯d liked that coat. But he pulled on his jeans, thermal shirt, Led Zeppelin t-shirt, his old, discolored hoodie, all large enough for him to insert his bandaged arm through, and stashed his cell phone in his back pocket. Then he froze, stared at the wall, and cursed. His backpack. Lost. The weight of bleak emotion was crushing. All his shit. For a moment he just stood there, then he roused himself. Pulled on his busted boots, left his gown in the bag with his coat, and stepped out into the lobby. They weren¡¯t even demanding to know his insurance info or home address. Shit had to be real, real bad. No sign of the other woman. Ah well. Probably for the best. Ignoring the stares, he strode out the entrance into the gray dawn light. The cold stabbed into him, immediate and cruel. An ambulance was pulled up before the curb, back doors open, EMT¡¯s getting a badly savaged man out the back. James felt a knife of regret and old pain twist in his innards. The uniforms, the language, the brisk efficiency - all of it brought so much back. But he shoved his hands into his hoodie¡¯s pockets and turned away. ¡°So, where we going?¡± asked the woman, stepping out of the shadows to walk beside him. He glanced at her dubiously. ¡°What?¡± Her smile was charming but as mechanical as the nurse¡¯s had been. ¡°You expect a girl to face her Nemesis 2 alone?¡± Nemesis 2. James froze. ¡°That¡¯s right. It hasn¡¯t gone away.¡± She pulled her black jacket around herself tightly and shivered. ¡°Fuck I hate being in the city in winter. You got any cash? Want to go get a drink and talk?¡± ¡°I look like I got cash?¡± She smiled, unabashed. ¡°Never hurts to ask. Fine. But for real. I want to talk. About all of this. I know a place. Should still be open.¡± James rubbed a hand over his beard, turned to gaze over the hospital complex, the flashing ambulance lights, the lit-up windows, the towers. All so normal. So real. And yet. Nemesis 2. He frowned, stared off into the middle distance, and words appeared in his vision. 90 Hours till Nemesis 2 Released ¡°What the fuck is this?¡± ¡°Honey, you¡¯re asking the wrong person.¡± She slid an arm companionably through his own and started walking along the sidewalk. ¡°But it¡¯s a few blocks to the next bus stop, and since none of us can afford an Uber, I say we start walking. The name¡¯s Serenity, by the way.¡± James allowed her to pull him along. More ambulance sirens were approaching. He just couldn¡¯t wrap his head around it. He wanted to babble a bunch of questions at Serenity, but that wasn¡¯t his way, and she didn¡¯t seem to know shit, either. The green letters hovered in his vision, then simply disappeared when he willed them away. ¡°Yeah,¡± he rasped. ¡°I need that drink.¡± Half an hour later they staggered down steep steps into a sublevel bar so seedy it had no sign out front and was barely noticeable from the curb. The place was a narrow slot with a bar running down its length and a single row of tall tables pressed against the opposite wall. Thousands of beer mats were stapled to the ceiling, and the place stank of smoke and piss. An old TV was affixed in the back corner, and the bar had been painted over so many times it was glossy and without any edges at all. ¡°Herman, darling, we too early for breakfast?¡± Serenity grabbed a stool and slid into it with the practiced familiarity of a lifer. ¡°Got any huevos rancheros?¡± ¡°What the hell happened to you?¡± The old man behind the bar was so small and slender he looked like a weirdly aged child. ¡°How¡¯d you bust your arm this time?¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t believe me if I told you. I¡¯ll take a White Russian. Mr. Kelly?¡± He¡¯d never told her his first name. ¡°I got no money.¡± ¡°Pah, Serenity¡¯ll take care of you this time.¡± She reached into her bra to pull out a folded rectangle of cash. ¡°Get Mr. Kelly here a whiskey.¡± Herman eyed them both, then shrugged, took the money, and stepped away. Serenity turned to him and propped her chin on her palm, slouching over as if she might fall asleep any minute. ¡°So, what do you think? It¡¯s a bit too technical for the Rapture, in my opinion.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± James smoothed down his beard, glanced at the front door, at her, then at the TV. ¡°It don¡¯t make no sense. There¡¯s no such thing as gremlins.¡± ¡°That what you calling it? Nah darling, that was a demon. I was raised Catholic.¡± She crossed herself. ¡°This makes total sense.¡± ¡°But the text? What did it say, after we killed it?¡± And summoned by his thought, the words appeared before him once more: Nemesis 1 Defeated Personal Statistics Unlocked You are #2,789 to survive Global First Wave Nemesis 1 Incursion Title Earned: Vanguard 89 Hours till Nemesis 2 Released 90 Days till Pits Open Dawn of the Void has begun ¡°What¡¯s it all mean? Global First Wave? You think this is happening everywhere?¡± ¡°Far as I know, that¡¯s what ¡®global¡¯ means. Thanks Herman. You¡¯re a sweetheart.¡± The bartender set their drinks down on coasters and walked away. James had to fight to not snatch up the whiskey and drain it. Given his condition drinking was a terrible idea but fuck that. He took a deep sip. Let the cheap shit wash down his throat and light a fire. ¡°Ah, heaven,¡± said Serenity. ¡°Much better. So yeah. Global. Doesn¡¯t sound good.¡± ¡°Vanguard. That must be because we were part of the first wave,¡± he continued. ¡°What I¡¯m curious about is this whole ¡®Personal Statistics¡¯ part,¡± said Serenity, then froze. ¡°What?¡± She blinked, sat up straight. ¡°Open yours up.¡± James frowned, focused on that line, and the text changed. Name: James Kelly Class: None Rank: Mendicant 1 Title: Vanguard Virtues: None Benedictions: None First Miracle: None Second Miracle: None Third Miracle: None Aura: None Aura Strength: None Aeviternum Points: 1 Strength: 6 Stamina: 5 Speed: 6 Agility: 4 Power: 5 Arete: 8 Unspent Points: 5 James read it all quickly, then stared through the text at the equally non-plussed Serenity. ¡°What the hell is all this?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She took a big gulp of her White Russian and set it down with newfound resolve. ¡°But I hate anything unspent. Goes against my nature. Let¡¯s see what we can buy.¡± Chapter 3: Arete James reread his personal statistics. They reminded him of the Dungeons and Dragons game he¡¯d played back in high school. But none of the rest made any sense. ¡°Definitely Catholic,¡± murmured Serenity. ¡°All this miracle and benediction shit? Man am I relieved to have been born into the right religion. Sucks to be you, rest of the world.¡± ¡°You got ¡®none¡¯ next to everything?¡± ¡°Except for my rank and Aeviternum Points, whatever that is,¡± said Serenity distractedly. ¡°Ooh. Focus on your unspent points, and it shows you where you can spend them.¡± James did so, exhaustion and blood loss and the booze making him feel like he was floating. The first half of the sheet disappeared, leaving only the Strength and other stuff. ¡°What¡¯s Arete?¡± he asked. ¡°That I don¡¯t know. Why don¡¯t we have Beauty as a stat? Or Wealth? Give me some¡­ Power sounds good. And some Agility. And oh, I always wanted to be strong.¡± James dismissed his own sheet to watch Serenity. She¡¯d gone still, sat up straighter, was frowning as she stared down at herself. She¡¯d changed. It was subtle, but it was there. Her face had filled out a little, losing some of that rawboned gauntness, and she just looked¡­ healthier. James had seen every kind of addiction during his past life, and then even more so once going homeless. He¡¯d learned to spot desperation, febrile need, the monster that once awakened never went back to sleep. Serenity still had her edge, but now¡­ now it looked as if the clock had been rewound on her by a few years. As if she¡¯d not made quite as many mistakes, spent quite as many nights losing sight of her dreams. ¡°Damn,¡± she whispered huskily, and then gave a startled laugh. ¡°This¡­ I mean, this is better than¡­ what the fuck?¡± James felt a shiver of excitement. ¡°It actually works?¡± ¡°Try it for yourself. Yeah it works.¡± He summoned his statistics, considered them carefully. They were all self-explanatory but for Arete. Five points. He could give one to each of his physical stats, an even spread. Or focus on one element. What would give him an edge against another Gremlin? Speed? Strength? Stamina? For long, aching minutes he considered. Speed was probably just how fast he could go in a run. But there was no outrunning the little shit. Agility then would be hand to eye coordination, reflexes, maybe. Since he was planning on getting a gun, that would be his best stat. If he shot the fucker before it got close he wouldn¡¯t need to be strong or resilient. James hesitated. His gaze dropped to Arete. What was that? Why was it listed? ¡°Can I borrow your phone?¡± he asked Serenity. She hesitated good and long before unlocking and handing it to him, but he didn¡¯t judge her for it. A moment later he Googled Arete. The first result had a weird accent over it and meant ¡®a sharp mountain ridge.¡¯ He scrolled down. Wikipedia saved the day. It was an Ancient Greek term that referred to ¡®excellence¡¯ of any kind, ¡°especially a person or thing¡¯s ¡®full realization of potential of inherent function¡¯.¡± James looked off into the middle distance, considering. Excellence of any kind, the full realization of potential. That sounded pretty good. Moreover, it felt right. He understood so little of what was going on. Half his statistics sheet was filled with terms that meant nothing to him. Spending points on Agility had an immediate appeal, but he intuited that there were far greater depths of development available to him in this new system, and that if he only had control over where he spent these five points, he should sink them into what might be the key to unlocking the rest. He activated the Unspent Points, then simply willed them all into Arete. Arete 13 He dismissed the menu. Serenity was watching him with avid fascination. ¡°Well?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± He still felt loopy. Maybe he should have dropped some points into Stamina to give himself a boost. But there was a new edge to the world. He felt more¡­ alert? No. More in control of himself. He raised his hand. It trembled slightly. So not control exactly, but more¡­ prepared? Focused? ¡°What did you raise, already?¡± ¡°Arete.¡± ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± ¡°So what are you at now?¡± ¡°Thirteen.¡± ¡°No way! So¡­ what does that mean?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. That I¡¯ve just raised my potential¡­? I¡¯m not sure.¡± He reviewed his statistics and saw a new change: Aura: Lead Aura Strength: 1 ¡°What?¡± demanded Serenity. ¡°More mysteries. Looks like raising my Arete gave me an aura. Lead, strength of one.¡± Serenity stared at him, mystified. ¡°Do you feel anything different?¡± James raised his hand, turned it about, looked down at himself. ¡°Just feel like shit.¡± Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Serenity laughed and pressed her glass to her brow. ¡°We all do, honey. It¡¯s almost dawn. Time for regrets.¡± The volume on the TV cut them off as Herman raised it. On the screen two news anchors were gazing seriously at them. ¡°¡­we¡¯re getting reports that emergency departments across New York City are seeing nearly a hundred times as many victims of injuries from dog bites as compared to this time last year, prompting concerns that stay-at-home orders and other pandemic lifestyle changes may be to blame.¡± The other news anchor, a perfectly coiffured man, turned to the first. ¡°Is that right, Megan? A hundred times greater?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what we¡¯re hearing, Mike. The numbers are startling, and seem to be the case across the nation. We¡¯re seeing reports from other major metropolitan areas coming in, and it is, to be frank, unprecedented.¡± ¡°Well, the numbers speak for themselves,¡± said Mike, looking at his papers. ¡°There are over 77 million pet dogs in the US, all of whom have been living under restrictions these past few years. It¡¯s clear that our canine buddies are - like the rest of us - reaching their limit with the current situation.¡± Herman frowned, changed the channel to another news station. ¡°Such bullshit,¡± muttered Serenity, White Russian held to her lips. The next channel featured a man reporting live from outside a police station, the blue Chiron emblazoned across the bottom of the screen displaying the words: Hundreds slain by rabid dogs. ¡°¡­an atrocious night, of the likes that we have never seen before,¡± the reporter was saying with heavy tones into his microphone. ¡°911 lines are facing delays of up to ten minutes, and I¡¯ve received word that off-duty officers have been called to help reinforce what is clearly an overwhelmed NYPD. The victims range across all of the city, with no borough exempted. We are being told that all pet owners absolutely must isolate their animals, and that no pet is to be considered safe at this time¡­¡± ¡°What the fuck¡¯s going on?¡± asked Herman, his tone blank with wonder. The news station cut back to the anchor, who stared grimly out over his desk, his features chiseled, his suit crisp. ¡°An absolutely horrifying turn of affairs. Word is coming in that this is not an isolated phenomenon; we¡¯re seeing reports of other deaths from across the globe coming in, with all reporting the same mysterious exponential leap in animal attacks and what can only be described as an outburst of panic and mania.¡± Herman shook his head and stepped back. ¡°Dog attacks?¡± He looked over to James and Serenity. ¡°That what happened to you?¡± James downed his whiskey, then summoned the countdown. 88 Hours till Nemesis 2 Released He knew how systems worked. How delicately balanced the different services were, how little it took to knock shit askew. Hell, the entire medical system had nearly collapsed when the pandemic hit, and was still struggling. The whole of the Mount Sinai Health System, with eight of the biggest hospitals in the city, had about 400,000 visits a year, which came out to about a hundred, a hundred and fifty ER visits a day per hospital. If hundreds were dying, and who knew how many more were being injured, then all those ER¡¯s would have to deal with the wounded on top of the pandemic infected and regular folk who needed help. And the text had said this was just the first wave. What would happen when the second hit? What would happen if it was larger? James already knew. It would mean ambulances would take longer and longer to reach the wounded. It meant that triage would become more brutal in its assessments. Doctors and nurses already working at their limit would be pushed over it. Emergency rooms would overflow, and doctors would have to be called in to help from other departments. This could last for a few days, a few weeks at best, but only if numbers didn¡¯t continue to increase. The US medical system simply couldn¡¯t take another beating. Which meant, what? That people in the United States would finally see what happened when medical systems collapsed. James shuddered. Eighty-eight hours till Nemesis 2. Was that the second wave? Or would their be more waves of Nemesis 1? ¡°When were you attacked?¡± he asked Serenity. ¡°What? When? Tonight. Wait. As in exactly?¡± She gave a hollow laugh. ¡°You¡¯re asking the wrong lady.¡± James bit his lower lip, considered. First Wave. He had to warn people. Watched the screen as a police officer spoke to reporters, giving advice on how to handle rabid pets. They had to start telling the truth. Had to start telling people to get guns, knives, hammers, whatever. To be ready for demon attacks. James gave a silent, despairing laugh. Who¡¯d listen to him? At any given moment there were a dozen homeless guys yelling about demon attacks in NYC. He¡¯d just blend right in. Except this time he was right. ¡°There¡¯s got to be something we can do,¡± he whispered. ¡°Hmm?¡± Serenity had pulled out her phone. ¡°Do? Oh shit, you on Instie?¡± James just frowned at her. ¡°Instie? Instagram? No? It¡¯s blowing up. Oh wow.¡± She set her phone on the bar and hit play on a video. It was shaky, the lighting terrible, a woman sobbing into the camera. ¡°Oh my gawd, oh my gawd, I just¡­ I just¡­ I¡¯m fucking bleeding¡­¡± ¡°Get to a hospital, dumb ass,¡± whispered Serenity impatiently. ¡°I¡¯m bleeding, because a fucking¡­ I don¡¯t even know what it was, a - a - demon? A shit chimpanzee? It broke into my house and I killed it, and oh gawd -¡± Serenity swiped to another video. A burly dude with broken glasses was holding up a black blood-smeared axe. ¡°You need to listen to me. You need to pay very, very close attention. They can be killed. Do not be afraid. The government has finally unleashed their weapon. When it comes for you, be ready. Get an axe, get a gun, nowhere is safe. Be prepared to fight for your life.¡± Swipe. ¡°What the fuck? Oh - oh - oh shit, what¡­ can you see it? Right here, can you see it? Why is nobody fucking reacting -¡± The blood-drenched young man aimed his camera at the dead gremlin on the ground. Around him others stared in horrid fascination at him, not seeing the corpse. ¡°Herman!¡± Serenity waved him over. ¡°You see this? Can you see what¡¯s on the floor?¡± Herman leaned in close then recoiled. ¡°Argh! What the hell, Serenity? Don¡¯t show me that kind of stuff. I curate my headspace carefully -¡± ¡°So you see it?¡± He stared at her wonderingly. ¡°Of course I see that. Was it a prank? Wait, was that real?¡± James pulled out his phone. It was almost useless. No carrier meant he could only use it where there was Wi-Fi, and he¡¯d lost his charger in his backpack. Still, he had 20% battery left. He scanned the wall, saw the Wi-Fi info, logged in. Hesitated. Where should he go? He had to get the word out. But where could he post it? How could he establish his credibility? ¡°Serenity,¡± he said. ¡°Where will a video get the most views?¡± ¡°These days?¡± She considered. ¡°TikTok.¡± ¡°Fine.¡± It took him a couple of minutes to make an account, then he handed the phone to Serenity and stood. ¡°Record me.¡± ¡°What even is this?¡± she asked, turning his phone around. ¡°Serenity!¡± ¡°Fine, fine. Ready? Go.¡± James drew himself up and stared into the little camera. ¡°My name is James Kelly. I was an Emergency Medical Technician for seven years in New York City. Tonight I was attacked by something called Nemesis 1, just like thousands of others around the world.¡± He paused, took a breath, forced himself to go on. ¡°Nobody knows what is happening, but what we do know is this: Nemesis 1 can be killed, so arm yourself. They attack with bites and claws, so get protective clothing and gear if you can. These attacks have only been part of a first wave, so there will be more. They can be seen when recorded, but otherwise only by those they¡¯ve come for. Please. This isn¡¯t a joke. These aren¡¯t dog attacks. Fuck, keep your dogs close, they can help. But if this hasn¡¯t happened to you yet, get ready, because it might, and thousands are dying right now because they¡¯re not ready.¡± Another deep breath. ¡°This will only get worse till the news and the police and hospital staff start telling the truth: we¡¯re under attack. Humanity is under attack, and the only way we¡¯re going to survive is if we get ready and fight back.¡± James hesitated, then nodded to Serenity, who lowered her phone. ¡°A little too serious for me,¡± she said. ¡°A bit too much of the crazy earnest vibe, you know? But fuck, let¡¯s tag the shit out of it and post it. You never know.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± breathed James, suddenly exhausted. ¡°Yeah. Good.¡± They sat on their bar stools again. Herman was staring at him. ¡°You really believe all that?¡± James held his stare. ¡°I do.¡± Herman nodded, reached under the bar, and pulled out a shotgun. ¡°Well all right.¡± Serenity looked sidelong at James. ¡°You were an EMT? For real?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t want to talk about it.¡± ¡°All right, all right, don¡¯t get your panties twisted. But the video¡¯s uploaded. Ready to become famous?¡± ¡°Famous?¡± ¡°Sure. This is all just breaking. Maybe you¡¯ll be the first to go viral.¡± ¡°Whatever. Just post it.¡± ¡°And¡­ done. The truth is out there.¡± James sagged and looked up at the TV where a reporter was earnestly interviewing an older man with an image of a raccoon inserted in the upper right. ¡°Fuck me,¡± he whispered. ¡°Herman?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Another whiskey.¡± The bartender gave him a curt nod. ¡°You got it.¡± And for the first time in far too long, James saw an old emotion in another person¡¯s eyes: respect. Chapter 4: Two Million Dead The next hour was spent watching the news, checking social media, and fighting off exhaustion for as long as possible. Little changed, though the outbreak of mystery dog attacks was the main story on every station and news site. Any and every theory was put out there, ranging from frequencies beamed by the Chinese from spy satellites to enrage canines to an outbreak of medieval-styled mania leading to madness and self-mutilation. James found his focus slipping. He knew he needed to sleep, that his body was exhausted, depleted on a fundamental level. What he needed was a substantial, savory meal with plenty of iron, and a good twelve hours of undisturbed rest. Instead, he kept sipping whiskeys and watching the TV with Herman as Serenity scrolled on her phone. Dawn broke, though you¡¯d never know it down here. Casualty numbers were being revised by the hour. Emergency rooms were overflowing across the country with lacerated and bitten victims, while morgues in turn were at maximum capacity, with mobile units meant for pandemic deaths being used instead to house the murdered. ¡°OK, enough.¡± Serenity set down her phone. James blinked. He¡¯d sunken into a stupor, warmed by the whiskey and lulled by the blood loss. He felt awful, but with a comforting blanket between him and the pain. ¡°Hmm?¡± ¡°Time for sleep. I¡¯m heading home.¡± She paused, looking at him expectantly. With effort he sat up. ¡°What?¡± ¡°How are we going to stay in touch? Where do you live?¡± ¡°I¡¯m between homes right now.¡± A truth which had at turns been earnest excuse, then ironic deflection, then merely a dulled reflex. ¡°I¡¯ll find a corner.¡± ¡°Then how will I find you? Honey, we¡¯ve got¡­ eighty-four hours till Nemesis 2 comes chomping our way. You think I want to face it alone in the lady¡¯s room again?¡± ¡°That¡¯s three and a half days away.¡± James rubbed at his eyes. ¡°But I understand what you¡¯re saying.¡± ¡°You were an EMT, right? Come crash at my place. You can make sure I don¡¯t bleed out. And don¡¯t I need to change these bandages at some point? I live across the street. You can crash with me.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± He roused himself further. ¡°You grab your antibiotics on the way out?¡± ¡°Nah.¡± She finished her White Russian. ¡°Wanted to avoid the cops, remember?¡± ¡°Then we can share mine till we pick up yours and finish the full course.¡± He stood, swayed. Was this the right move? Hell, anything was better than trying to find a corner to sleep in on a Tuesday morning. ¡°Herman, good meeting you.¡± ¡°And you,¡± said the old man, tearing his eyes away from the screen. ¡°Be safe out there.¡± James followed Serenity out the door, up the steps, and then across the already busy traffic to a narrow door set beside a laundromat. Huge machines gleamed within, scores of patient looking people on their phones as they waited. The doorway opened directly to a steep staircase, the walls off yellow, everything speaking of age and neglect. Serenity hurried up the stairs, fob of keys in hand, talking nervously all the way. ¡°This place used to belong to my uncle, Uncle Max, he bought it back when they were giving places away in the 70¡¯s, and now it¡¯s worth like almost a million dollars or something, but Maxie lives in Bermuda, can you believe that? Houseboat on a dock, he¡¯s sent me postcards, but he won¡¯t never invite me down.¡± She unlocked the door, put her shoulder to it, shoved it open. ¡°I think he knows I¡¯d never leave.¡± James followed her inside. The place smelt of her. Smoke and booze, stale air and old food. The windows were covered by cheap roll-down blinders so that no natural light came in. Serenity turned on the lights, amber yellow, and turned to smile at him nervously again. The place was a mess. The little corner kitchen had clearly been abandoned after the dirty dishes had overwhelmed the counter and sink. Clothing, magazines, Amazon boxes, all sorts of stuff lay everywhere as if a twister had torn through. Everything looked like it had been rescued from the curb. Old couch like a dead rhino, cheap prints on the walls, no dining table, one bedroom leading off the tiny living room. The rumble of washing machines came through the floor. ¡°If I¡¯d known I was going to have guests I¡¯d have spruced it up a bit,¡± she said, clutching her hands as she surveyed her home. ¡°It¡¯s normally much nicer.¡± ¡°It¡¯s great,¡± said James. He forced a smile. ¡°Honestly. You¡¯re lucky to have a place.¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what I tell myself. Coffee?¡± ¡°I¡¯m good. We need to sleep. Let me check your bandages, then we can take our meds and knock out.¡± ¡°Right, right.¡± She hovered, uncertain, and James wasn¡¯t sure if she was trying to figure out how to make him comfortable or - ¡°I¡¯m taking the couch,¡± he said gently. Complex emotions washed over her features. Relief? Disappointment? He couldn¡¯t tell. ¡°You sure? We could, you know.¡± She shrugged one shoulder, smiled uncertainly. ¡°It¡¯s been a weird night. Like, really weird. Wouldn¡¯t mind some company.¡± He walked over to her, and when he placed his hands on her upper arms she flinched. ¡°I¡¯ll be right here. Best thing for us is sleep. Yeah?¡± She laughed in a brittle fashion. ¡°Sure. Doctor¡¯s orders. Let me find you some sheets.¡± James sat on the couch and tiredly pulled his boots off, then sat with his hands between his knees, gazing at this reflection in the tiny flatscreen TV¡¯s dull surface. He should have taken more Stamina. He felt like a piece of steak that had been hammered into a thin sheet, like the Cubans did before breading and frying it. What was that dish called? Laney¡¯s favorite. James blinked and banished that line of thinking. A moment later the bedroom door opened and Serenity came around, hesitant again. It was interesting. She¡¯d been so casual at the bar. Now it was like she was another person. Or had shed a layer. ¡°Sit,¡± said James, instinctively taking control. She did so and offered him her bandaged arm. ¡°Not much I can or should do right now,¡± he said, taking it carefully. ¡°It hurt?¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Not really.¡± ¡°Hmm.¡± The bandages were good. No seepage. He scrutinized them carefully, then released her arm. ¡°You should be in pain. Then again, my neck and arms don¡¯t hurt much either.¡± She ran her other hand over her bandaged forearm. ¡°Then why aren¡¯t we hurting?¡± ¡°Dunno. Maybe something to do with our new sheets, or¡­¡± He shrugged. ¡°No matter. Here. Drink this down. We¡¯ll get more when these run out.¡± They downed their antibiotics. Serenity paused in her doorway, turned back to him. ¡°You think we¡¯re going to be OK, James?¡± He¡¯d lain down, draped an arm over his eyes. ¡°You and me?¡± ¡°All of us. Humanity.¡± He didn¡¯t answer at first. It would have been easy to lie. But even on the streets he¡¯d tried to hold on to his integrity. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± He heard her sniff. ¡°I don¡¯t either. Still. I¡¯m glad I ran into you. I¡¯d hate to be going through this alone.¡± He dropped his arms. She was leaning against the doorframe in a huge Cure t-shirt, her legs pale and skinny, her black hair pulled back into a ponytail, her face washed of all make-up. She looked five years younger, and with the boosts her stat increases had given her, her increased strength and vitality, she didn¡¯t resemble the strung-out lady he¡¯d met in the ER at all. ¡°I¡¯m glad I met you, too.¡± She smiled, ducked her head, then stepped into her room and closed the door. * * * The sound of distant sirens and dishes being cleaned awoke James. He stirred, confused, then glowered at the open corner kitchen where Serenity was tackling the huge mess, or at least trying to figure out where to start. ¡°Hey, afternoon,¡± she said, smiling over at him. ¡°You sleep well?¡± He grunted and sat up. Took a moment to check in with himself. No hangover. No pain. No fever. He still felt worn out, but all things considered, it was by far one of the best wakeups he¡¯d had in ages. ¡°I¡¯m trying to find my coffee carafe,¡± said Serenity apologetically. ¡°I wanted to wake you up with some. You know?¡± And then she sang the Johnny Cash jingle tunelessly: ¡°The best part of waking up is Folgers in your cup.¡± ¡°How you feeling?¡± he asked. ¡°Fever?¡± ¡°I feel great, actually. Like, ten years younger.¡± She blew a lock of black frizzy hair out of her face. ¡°Having Stamina 7 is great.¡± He grunted again. So much for sinking his points into Arete. His Lead aura had done fuck-all for him so far. ¡°Well, good.¡± He hesitated. ¡°Mind if I take a shower?¡± ¡°Go right ahead. You got a spare change of clothes? ¡®Cause it doesn¡¯t look like you do. I only ask ¡®cause I found some old ones that an ex left here ages ago. Might be your size?¡± ¡°Perfect.¡± He hesitated. ¡°The TV work?¡± ¡°Sure. I steal cable from my neighbor.¡± James took up the remote, turned the TV on, found the closest news channel. ¡°¡­we¡¯ll be continuing our around the clock coverage of what is now developing into a national emergency. The White House will be giving a speech on the outbreak of mysterious murders that has swept the country at 4pm this afternoon, and expectations are high that the president will begin deploying the National Guard, though debate continues as to where and how.¡± Serenity drifted over, a mold encrusted plate in one gloved hand. The anchorman looked strained, his features drawn, and his left hand was a club of white bandages. ¡°Experts and officials are baffled by what has taken place over the last twenty-four hours, but what is clear is that we are being faced with an unprecedented attack. The estimated death toll across the nation is now at over a hundred thousand, with twice that number of injured survivors, while a similar story is being told by countries around the world. From London to Cape Town, Hong Kong to Sao Paulo, reports are unanimous, and the incredible nature of this threat can no longer be dismissed.¡± ¡°A hundred thousand?¡± whispered Serenity. ¡°And that¡¯s both an undercount and just in the States.¡± James felt a ball of ice form in his gut. ¡°There are about three hundred and twenty million folks in the US.¡± He pulled out his phone. Did some quick math. ¡°That¡¯s over two million dead worldwide.¡± A graphical insert had appeared to the left of the anchorman, listing a series of directives. ¡°We will be broadcasting this preliminary bulletin as prepared by the NSA every thirty minutes. The first and most important directive is to not acknowledge the initial communique when it appears in your field of vision. Doing so has been proven to trigger the Nemesis 1 aggressor, while leaving it unanswered will prevent it from appearing.¡± ¡°It can¡¯t be that simple,¡± said James. ¡°This whole system can¡¯t be stopped by simply not acknowledging the attack.¡± ¡°But what if it can?¡± asked Serenity. ¡°You¡¯d have to live with those words in front of you at all times, but that¡¯d would be better than having that little shit show up.¡± The anchorman was still speaking. ¡°If you have acknowledged and defeated your Nemesis 1, know that there are reports coming in that the Nemesis 1¡¯s of those who did not survive can see and will attack you. As far as we can tell, acknowledging the message opens you up to all Nemesis 1¡¯s. Thus, if you have survived your attack, do not venture outside and remain somewhere safe. "Third, Nemesis 1¡¯s will not attack those who have yet to be -¡± ¡°What?¡± Serenity¡¯s voice rose an octave. ¡°We can be attacked by the others?!¡± James leaned forward, desperately trying to listen. ¡°- meaning that you are safe as long as you have not initiated the attacks. Fourth, emergency services are currently overwhelmed, so we shall be following this announcement with a broadcast of how to provide aid to those who have been attacked and cannot get timely treatment.¡± James sat back, the icy ball in his gut expanding to flow into his veins, so that a general chill fell over him. ¡°Holy shit.¡± ¡°James?¡± Serenity glanced from the screen to him. He stared at the screen, then rose abruptly and moved to the window. Tugged at the blinder so that it rolled all the way up and looked out. Barely any traffic was rolling by. The sound of sirens was constant. Otherwise the city looked quiet. He craned his neck, saw people hurrying along the sidewalks, almost everyone studying their phones. Fear on their faces. ¡°We need to think,¡± he said. ¡°I need to wake up. Can you get that coffee going? I¡¯m going to take a shower.¡± Serenity nodded jerkily and almost ran back to the kitchen. James paused to stare at the TV where a nurse was explaining how to handle bites and lacerations. ¡°¡­if the wounds are not life threatening or too deep, allowing the puncture or cuts to bleed for five minutes will wash out possible infectious agents¡­¡± James shook his head and marched into the bedroom. A quick glance took in the full mattress lying on the floor, the huge pile of clothing in one corner, the magazine and coffee cups, the crooked lamp, the overflowing ashtrays. He felt absolutely no judgement. Everyone did what they had to in order to survive. The bathroom was tiny. He stripped, turned the water to blistering hot, and then got in and allowed the water to scour away a week of sweat and dirt. James availed himself of showers whenever he came across them, but as the years had rolled on, he¡¯d found himself content to shower once a week unless an accident happened. But each time he stepped into a good shower like this one he renewed his promise to do so more often. His new reflex kicked in, and he checked the count down: 79 Hours till Nemesis 2 Released His thoughts whirled like leaves before a storm wind. It was too enormous what was happening. But if the news was now talking honestly about the situation, it was because they had no choice. Too many deaths. Probably some serious officials had been attacked and survived, people whose accounts couldn¡¯t be dismissed as fanciful or manic. A critical mass of senators, congressmen, directors, and other people in power. It took a serious crisis to risk general panic. The government was conservative in that way: always better to downplay a crisis until there was absolutely no choice. Which meant the 100k death toll was probably way too low. How many died? Five times that number? Ten? James ceased lathering himself up and stared at the grimy tiles. Mass panic meant people no longer going to work. And with no signs that this was about to stop, that meant that critical infrastructure would start to shut down. The power grid and water would only last a day or so if left unattended. The police were already at a breaking point, as were the hospitals. But it was worse than that. New York City had over eight million people living in it. Running the city was an everyday miracle. The sheer amount of food that was transported into the city each day, the amount of refuse that was shipped out - a disruption would see grocery stores stripped bare in hours and then not refilled. James stepped back and stared at the water bursting forth from the shower head. If the water supply cut out, that would be millions with nothing to drink. If a person didn¡¯t hydrate, they¡¯d be dead in days. How many deaths could the city take before everything fell apart? Wait, what was that noise? Trembling, rocked by these thoughts, James reached out and turned the water off. Screams were coming from downstairs. Chapter 5: Honey, guns cost money James yanked on the cargo pants Serenity had left in a pile by the bathroom door, and still soaked ran into the living room. Serenity was yanking open drawers in the TV stand, and pulled out a compact, dark gray pistol. With quick efficiency she ejected the magazine, slammed it back home, put a round in the chamber and then looked to James, eyes wide. ¡°What do we do?¡± In response he ran to the front door, caught himself, then looked around for a weapon. There was nothing good, so he snatched up the heaviest iron skillet he could see and then raced down the stairs. They burst out into the street. Cars were still driving by as if nothing was going on, though drivers were rubbernecking with wide eyes as they passed the laundromat. Out of which people were streaming, several badly wounded. James looked in through the huge windows. A half dozen people were trapped in the back corner. He saw three gremlins stalking toward them over the washing machines, their scales gleaming in the electric lights. ¡°Come on!¡± he shouted hoarsely and pushed his way past an elderly man who was emerging to enter the laundromat. Machines chugged and vibrated. Canned music played over hidden speakers. The linoleum was streaked with blood, a heavy set Hispanic lady lay just inside the doorway with her throat torn out. ¡°Hey!¡± James had no idea as to what he was going. ¡°You lot! Over here!¡± The gremlins paused, looked back over their narrow shoulders at him. Serenity stepped inside, gun held in both hands before her, and fired. The first shot missed. A hole appeared in the wall. But she fired again, and the bullet hit the center gremlin right in the chest, causing it to stagger back and screech in pain. It took a second bullet to knock it down. The other two dove off the machines. James crouched, skillet held in both hands like a baseball bat, gaze flicking at the avenues of approach. Someone was sobbing in the back, while the crowd outside just stood there, watching. ¡°I¡¯ve got twelve rounds left,¡± said Serenity, voice weirdly calm. ¡°Should be plenty. Stay back and let me -¡± A gremlin leaped into view, doing that flea jump from the back of a huge machine that came chest high, arms spread, maw open wide. Serenity fired, missed, and the gremlin fell upon James, who swung the black iron skillet like he was going for a home run. The skillet hit the gremlin full on. It felt like smacking a bag full of sticks. The gremlin was knocked back against the washing machine, bounced off, shook its head and then hissed at him, black blood shining on several contusions and the side of its head. Serenity fired once, twice, three times. James kept his eye on his gremlin. It ran at him, feinted a leap, then ducked low and scooted under his swing. ¡°Shit!¡± he yelled, back pedaling, but it was too fast. The gremlin leaped for his face, needle fangs flashing. James let go of the skillet so that he could bat it away, but as soon as the gremlin touched him a film of gray light appeared all around James¡¯s body, encasing him an inch above his skin, and the gremlin screeched and leaped off, its hands and knees and shins burning and giving off acrid smoke. Serenity fired her gun. The gremlin¡¯s temple shattered, and it fell over to lie still. ¡°Shit,¡± gasped James again, staring at the crumpled body, his shoulders heaving as if he¡¯d sprinted a mile. He looked up to Serenity who stood there, eyes wide, glazed, pistol still held before her with two stiff arms. She blinked, scanned the laundromat, kept the gun up. James straightened, looked over the machines at where the other people were cornered. ¡°There any more of them?¡± ¡°That¡¯s¡­ I mean - no.¡± A young Hispanic woman stared at him with glassy eyes, her face pale. ¡°Mama? Mama!¡± And she ran forward. One of the others was a heavyset man who had his phone to his ear. ¡°They said we¡¯d be safe if we didn¡¯t answer the question, they said we¡¯d be safe!¡± ¡°Yeah, well.¡± James fought the urge to drop his skillet. ¡°Welcome to the new world, pal.¡± Serenity put up her gun, blinked again, and then seemed to wake up. ¡°Shit. Wow. I need a drink.¡± ¡°Tell me about it.¡± James resisted the urge to nudge the dead gremlin. ¡°Nice shooting.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± She took her finger off the trigger and lowered the gun to her side. ¡°Dated a guy who owned a gun range out in Queens. He thought giving me an unlimited pass would keep me from breaking up with him.¡± James felt the adrenaline come down, his whole body starting to feel trembly and loose. ¡°It work?¡± Serenity smirked. ¡°For a while, yeah.¡± ¡°Come on!¡± The guy with the phone pulled it away from his ear and glared at it. ¡°What is this, Detroit? Why the fuck won¡¯t 911 pick up?¡± ¡°Mama?¡± The Hispanic woman was slowly kneeling beside the dead lady by the door. ¡°Mama?¡± ¡°Shit.¡± James wanted to just walk away. What had gotten into him? It¡¯d been years since he¡¯d been triggered to act like that. Had taken years of conscious effort to deaden those instincts. Now he was running around with a cast iron skillet like some god damn hero. He could feel it. A tidal pull. A gravitational suck that threatened to bring him back to life. To make him care again. To get involved. He didn¡¯t want it. But the sight of the dead gremlin and the woman¡¯s rising sobs were like hooks in his soul, keeping him from sinking. There were people bleeding outside. And he knew nobody was coming to help. ¡°Talk to the girl,¡± he told Serenity. ¡°Get a sheet to cover her mother.¡± ¡°What is this?¡± yelled the guy in the back. ¡°Mexico?!¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Wearily he walked out the front door to the sparse crowd. They eyed him, nervous. ¡°I used to be an EMT.¡± The words sounded so foreign in his mouth. ¡°If you¡¯re injured, come inside so I can look at you. You¡¯re feeling shock, which means you don¡¯t realize how badly you¡¯re hurt yet. Let¡¯s get you patched up.¡± He eyed a portly man who was clutching his badly mauled gut. ¡°Anybody here got a car? We¡¯ll need to get this man to the ER.¡± ¡°They said to stay away,¡± said an old lady. ¡°Said no room.¡± ¡°Even so. Now come in. Inside if you¡¯re hurt.¡± * * * An hour later James and Serenity climbed her stairway back to the apartment. The badly wounded guy had called a friend to come drive him to the ER. James had torn up clean sheets to bandage and staunch the other lacerations, none of which were life threatening. Serenity had mostly failed to calm the bereaved woman, but a station wagon full of relatives had shown up ten minutes later and with much shouting and grief hauled her and the body away. A single bullet hole let light stream into the stairway from the laundromat. James closed the door behind them, and together they slumped down onto the couch. ¡°I¡¯m going to need more ammo,¡± said Serenity. ¡°I¡¯ve got several cases for my Glocks, but it won''t last long if I have to shoot those fuckers more than once.¡± ¡°Ammo¡¯s going to disappear fast,¡± said James. ¡°I need a gun, too. Skillet¡¯s not the best.¡± ¡°What was that?¡± She turned to stare at him. ¡°When the demon leaped on you? I didn¡¯t see it right, but something happened.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± James stared down at himself. ¡°Must of been that aura. The Lead 1, whatever. Activated when the gremlin touched me.¡± ¡°Gremlin.¡± She snorted. ¡°This ain¡¯t the Goonies.¡± ¡°There weren¡¯t any gremlins in the Goonies.¡± ¡°They¡¯re demons. Anyway, that¡¯s great. Like a spiritual bullet proof vest, or something.¡± ¡°Or something, yeah.¡± He felt numb. He¡¯d known what to do below, how to take care of those people, give instructions, act calm. But now that they were up here, he felt overwhelmed. ¡°We need to stock up. Water, food. Medical supplies. We should hit an army surplus store. Get some gear.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± She leaned back and eyed him sardonically. ¡°And how we paying for all this?¡± James froze. ¡°Shit. I¡¯m sorry. Just¡­¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be. I¡¯m not calling you out. But I only have a hundred bucks to my name. Fifty rounds cost about twenty bucks. I was planning on buying everything I could get my hands on.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± James stood, smoothed down his beard, set to pacing. ¡°But if this keeps up there¡¯s a good chance we¡¯ll lose power and water. Food will disappear. We need camping gear. Water filtration. We need - fuck.¡± Serenity watched him. ¡°We¡¯ve got a hundred bucks. Maybe we should just wait for the looting to start before we go shopping.¡± ¡°Maybe we should get out of here.¡± He moved to the window and stared down at the street. ¡°Manhattan¡¯s going to become a deathtrap. The tunnels and bridges will be snarled up in traffic jams. No food, no water, no power. The boroughs won¡¯t be much better. Too much population density.¡± Now it was Serenity¡¯s turn to stand, her alarm obvious. ¡°Leave? And go where? You heard the news. This is happening everywhere.¡± ¡°Go where there are less people, less of a strain on resources.¡± James ran his fingers through his hair. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Upstate, maybe.¡± Serenity gave a hollow laugh. ¡°You¡¯re talking like everything¡¯s going to go to literal hell. You think the government¡¯s going to collapse? What about the - the - military? The National Guard. They¡¯ll do what they did for Hurricane Katrina, right? Bring in food?¡± ¡°This will be like a hundred Katrina¡¯s all at once.¡± James turned away from the window. ¡°Washington, Miami, Philly, New Orleans, LA, Chicago, Detroit - if this keeps going, they¡¯re all going to implode.¡± Serenity stared at him with helpless horror. ¡°So - what? We quit town, head into the fucking boonies, and start a farm?¡± James looked down at this hands. ¡°You know how to farm? ¡®Cause I sure don¡¯t. And you want to be out the jungle when the next Nemesis shows up? ¡®Cause I don¡¯t. I want to be here, in my hometown, close to the ammo.¡± James scowled. Serenity moved to stand before him. ¡°Or is it something else? Hmm?¡± She angled her face to try and meet his stare. ¡°What would we be running from, exactly? Nemesis 2, or some other kind of demon?¡± James hissed and broke away, strode up to the window and stared out. He could hear sirens. Always with the sirens. ¡°Fine. I take that back. Who doesn¡¯t have their own demons? Lord knows I¡¯ve got a stable of them. But¡­ no. I¡¯m not going to cut and run to Upstate New York. Not¡­ yet.¡± James hung his head and sighed. His thoughts roiled. He rubbed his fingers over his knuckles, one set callused and ingrained with the kind of dirt you didn¡¯t just casually wash off, the other swollen and raw and red. He summoned the count down. 77 Hours till Nemesis 2 Released Then, curious, summoned the rest of his stats. Reread them. ¡°You know. If this were a casual, every-day kind of end of the world scenario, I might just quit town.¡± He turned to stare at her. ¡°But it ain¡¯t. We¡¯ve got¡­ these statistics. And one of them reads Rank: Mendicant 1.¡± ¡°Mendicant,¡± said Serenity. ¡°I looked it up. Old school word for beggar. But kind of has that sexy Saint Francis of Assisi vibe to it.¡± ¡°Point being, it¡¯s just level 1. Same with my aura. Lead, level 1. We¡¯ve no Benedictions, no Miracles, no Virtues, no Class.¡± ¡°Well, on that last one speak for yourself.¡± Despite himself James smiled. ¡°So¡­ maybe we¡¯re overlooking something vital here. Like how that gremlin -¡± ¡°Demon.¡± ¡°- bounced off my aura. Maybe there¡¯s a way to get more free points to assign. To level up, like a video game. Become more powerful. Who knows what we could unlock from this bizarro situation?¡± Serenity narrowed her eyes. ¡°And how do we do that?¡± ¡°Won¡¯t be by sitting around in here. Only thing that comes to mind is killing gremlins.¡± ¡°We already killed gremlins. Nothing happened.¡± ¡°Maybe killing one or two ain¡¯t enough. Maybe we have to kill a handful. Maybe ten. I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°And then we get higher ranks, and more points.¡± ¡°Exactly. We can boost our strength, our agility, our Arete. And be that much more ready when Nemesis 2 shows up.¡± Serenity shrugged. ¡°Beats going to Jersey. I just need more ammo.¡± James suppressed a shiver of excitement, and realized he wanted to go kill those little fuckers. That for the first time since¡­ well, since his life fell apart, he had a legitimate way to vent his fury. And he¡¯d be saving other people in the process without having to work as an EMT. Win-win. ¡°I¡¯m going to need a gun.¡± ¡°Honey, guns cost money. You¡¯ll have to settle for your skillet for now. It¡¯s a good look for you. Really.¡± ¡°Ha ha. Well. Shall we?¡± ¡°Now?¡± ¡°Why not?¡± ¡°Why not indeed. I was going to suggest stopping by Herman¡¯s for a drink, but¡­ sure. Let¡¯s get some ammo. And kill some demons while we¡¯re at it.¡± James nodded and sat to pull on his boots. Serenity pulled out her phone while she waited, then let out a low whistle. ¡°You¡¯ve gone viral!¡± ¡°Viral?¡± ¡°That video from last night. Over eight million views. Twelve thousand comments. Wow.¡± ¡°Twelve thousand comments?¡± James tensed up. ¡°Do I - should I start answering them, or¡­?¡± ¡°Oh, you¡¯re trending as hashtag sexylumberhomelessjack.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means.¡± Serenity rolled her eyes. ¡°It means, cave man, that in another life you¡¯d be starting a new career. But seeing as it¡¯s the demon apocalypse, too late.¡± ¡°Well.¡± James stood up, feeling awkward and stiff. Sexylumberhomelessjack? ¡°That¡¯s, ah, good. I¡¯m glad we got the word out.¡± Serenity laughed, some of her old confidence returning. ¡°Oh, you are too darling. How come no homeless babe hasn¡¯t snapped you up already?¡± James stared at her, then looked away. ¡°Oh.¡± Serenity¡¯s humor fled. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°No worries.¡± He coughed into his fist, forced the pain away. It was a dull ache. Getting ornery these days was more a trained reflex than anything else. ¡°Let¡¯s get that ammo.¡± ¡°The sporting goods store is only four stops away.¡± Serenity put her pistol in her purse. It barely fit. Grabbed her thick coat, then stared at him. ¡°You¡¯re going to freeze.¡± ¡°Your ex leave a jacket?¡± ¡°No. But the only thing I have your size is perfect. Wait here.¡± She darted into her bedroom, and a moment later emerged with a caramel brown furred pimp coat. ¡°You¡¯re serious.¡± ¡°Try it on! Look, it¡¯s warm. And you know what they say: sexy lumberhomelessjacks can¡¯t be choosers.¡± James took the full-length coat gingerly. The fur was cheap imitation, but the inner lining was in good condition. With great reluctance he pulled the coat on. It was tight across the shoulders, the sleeves were an inch too short, but otherwise it fit. ¡°Fucking awesome,¡± said Serenity, her tone deadpan. ¡°I¡¯ve died and gone to heaven. Can we post a video of you giving battle tips with the skillet?¡± James laughed helplessly and strode past her. ¡°Come on. It¡¯s time to go kill some shit.¡± Chapter 6: Stay informed. Watch the news. Stay alive. Shadows were starting to lengthen. It was cold. James pulled the caramel-furred coat tighter about himself and tucked his chin into his neck. Kicked at a berm of filthy ice that lined the edge of the pavement. Looked around. The city was changing fast. And in only twenty-four hours. Mixed messages were everywhere. Lines around the block at gas stations across from tiny public playgrounds where kids still shrieked and played. A body lying in the gutter, torn all to shit, a handful of old men playing dominos with stoic fixation outside a Latin market. Sirens, sirens blaring all the time. The sound of weeping and wailing coming from open windows. Gun shots ringing out every few minutes. A low rider cruising by, the kid at the wheel draping his arm down the outside of his door, a chrome revolver glittering for all to see. ¡°Hey, hold up, what the fuck is that?¡± asked Serenity, grabbing his arm. James looked away from a huge wad of bloody bandages that had been half-stuffed into an overflowing trashcan. They¡¯d rounded a corner, were only a few blocks from the Dick¡¯s, and in the sky floated a huge¡­ glowing symbol? ¡°That like the batman beacon, or whatever?¡± asked Serenity. ¡°That us?¡± ¡°That ain¡¯t us,¡± said James. He didn¡¯t know how he knew, but the very alienness of the symbol made it clear. It spun slowly, probably the size of a car, and looked to be made of black iron wreathed in purple flames that never went out, easily a good five hundred feet up. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said at last. ¡°Some kind of marker? Part of the system that¡¯s calling up these gremlins?¡± ¡°Bad juju,¡± said Serenity, and crossed herself. ¡°Ain¡¯t that the truth.¡± They hurried on, reached the block with the sporting goods store, stopped. ¡°Well fuck,¡± said James. The line out the door was worse than the gas station. It went all the way down the block and out of sight around the corner. Serenity¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°Guess we weren¡¯t the only folks wanting ammo.¡± ¡°Or soccer balls. You said your ex owned a gun range. You think he might sell you ammo?¡± ¡°Macaroni Mike?¡± Serenity stared at James as if hurt by his suggestion. ¡°You want me to call him?¡± James grinned. ¡°You were with a guy called Macaroni Mike?¡± ¡°Yeah, his dick was weird and long and floppy like over boiled fettucine.¡± James raised both hands. ¡°Way too much information. And just when I was starting to think highly of you.¡± ¡°Hey, free nights at the gun range.¡± Serenity hitched her purse higher up her shoulder in mock-annoyance. ¡°Shooting a hundred rounds from a Colt Anaconda felt like doing coke. More than made up for twirling his dick around a fork later on.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t even know what that means, and I don¡¯t wanna know. Call him. We need more ammo.¡± Serenity huffed but dug out her phone. Dialed. James hunched his shoulders against the cold and blew out plumes of fog. The sky was gray and low. He scanned the rooftops. Movement here and there, like spotting roaches in a gloomy space, barely visible. Each time he focused on a window or cornice or chimney he¡¯d catch a glimpse of a gremlin, then gone. ¡°Heya Mikey, how you doing? Yeah, it¡¯s me, Clarice. No, I¡¯m fine, never better. You?¡± How many gremlins were out there? They didn¡¯t disappear after killing their mark. Which meant the thousands of fatalities had left just as many Nemesis 1¡¯s on the streets. How many people had died already? As Serenity - or Clarice - continued chatting with her ex, James wandered over to a closed, old-school electronics store and peered in through the display window at where the TV¡¯s were playing different channels. Most showed fancy swirls and loops with advanced graphics, but a few were tuned to the news. A hand drawn sign had been posted to the glass: Stay informed. Watch the news. Stay alive. Guess the owner of the store was doing his civic duty. Whoever it was had left the volume on max. James could vaguely make it out if he got real close to the plate glass windows. The Chiron on one in particular gave him the chills: SECOND WAVE IN EFFECT ¡°¡­the Mayor¡¯s office has released a statement confirming that the ¡®second wave¡¯ is underway, and seems to be targeting an order of magnitude more people. Remember, if you do not accept the request to acknowledge, you will not trigger your Nemesis 1 attacker.¡± Another screen. ¡°¡­the President confirmed earlier in his speech that he is calling up the entirety of the National Guard and deploying them to every major city, along with bolstering key elements of infrastructure with personnel from the Army Engineer Corps and other specialized units. He has affirmed that there is no evidence that this is an attack on the part of another state, and that we must remain united and strong in the face of this bewildering horror¡­¡± The scudding sound of a helicopter filled the air. James stepped back and looked up. A news helicopter was circling the burning rune, cameras pointed at its purple flames. ¡°You¡¯re a sweet heart,¡± said Serenity. ¡°We¡¯ll be right over, long as the G train¡¯s running. Thanks, hon.¡± She hung up. ¡°Done deal, but that bastard¡¯s selling them at a marked up price. Says his phone¡¯s been ringing off the hook with people looking to buy.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s get going then.¡± James tore his eyes away from the copter. ¡°Second wave¡¯s started. That means a hell of a lot more gremlins on the street.¡± ¡°Demons,¡± said Serenity. ¡°Shit. It¡¯ll take us hours to get to Mikey¡¯s by train. Fuck the G. Let¡¯s catch a bus.¡± They hustled away. James walked with his skillet propped over his shoulder. They reached the bus stop and found fifty people already crowded around the shelter. ¡°Fuck.¡± Serenity scowled at everyone who just stared impassively back at her. ¡°It¡¯ll cost us like thirty bucks to get there by Uber. Should we?¡± James scritched at his cheek. Thirty bucks was like fifty rounds. Was it worth saving the money for more ammo, or stupid to play it tight when they might need the bullets sooner than later? The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Let¡¯s try one more bus stop further up the line,¡± he said. ¡°Maybe this one¡¯s crowded because of the Dick¡¯s.¡± ¡°All right,¡± said Serenity. ¡°We can always call Uber if you¡¯re wrong.¡± They began heading north. More gun shots rang out. Somewhere close by glass shattered. Sirens. A fire truck rushed through the intersection up ahead, a meteor of flashing lights barreling through traffic. Yet most of the shops were still open. James stared into a barber shop where a guy was receiving a trim, expression placid. A Korean restaurant was packed, locals not eating but shouting at each other, a great argument roiling what looked like a local community. Lines were formed outside the door of liquor stores and pharmacies. The next stop was crowded but not overly so. They crammed onto the bus. Nobody gave his caramel coat a second glance. For twenty minutes they swayed with the old bus as it worked its way north into Queens, and eventually descended to hike the remaining fifteen blocks over to the gun range. This part of Queens was even more deserted than where they¡¯d been in Brooklyn. Warehouses, old brick industrial buildings, the occasional boutique coffee shop at the forefront of the gentrification edge. The shadows were starting to pool together. Dusk was only an hour or so away. In the sky, more of those purple burning iron glyphs hung. James had seen a dozen by now, scattered over the city, all of them identical. The shooting range¡¯s isolation meant there was only a small line out front. Mike had a couple of assistants taking orders at the front door, payments in cash, nobody allowed inside. Serenity tried yelling out to Mike to cut the line, but a couple of angry shouts from twitchy looking dudes in camo got James to haul her to the back. It only took ten minutes to get to the front, anyways. ¡°What do you need?¡± asked a rawboned guy in a skullcap. ¡°Tell Mikey Clarice is here. He said I¡¯d get the regular rate.¡± ¡°Yo Mikey, there¡¯s a bitch called Clarice out front, says you promised her a special rate?¡± ¡°Fuck you,¡± said Serenity. A moment later Mike appeared. He was small, round shouldered, unshaven, but James immediately recognized a dangerous air to him. Instinct told him this guy was prone to violence, capable of just going off. ¡°Clarice, baby, you made it. Who¡¯s the guy?¡± ¡°This is James. We¡¯re fighting this out together, but not like, together, you know?¡± Serenity¡¯s whole tone had changed. ¡°Anyways, you got that ammo? Glock 17.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± Mikey stared hard at James, who met his glare with blank assurance. ¡°Sure. Forty bucks a case.¡± ¡°Forty?¡± Serenity¡¯s anger was obvious, but Mikey cut her off. ¡°Forty. You and your guy pal here enjoy, yeah?¡± And he disappeared back into the range. ¡°Fucker. Two cases.¡± The assistant brought two large boxes up in a gray plastic bag, took the eighty bucks, then looked to the next customer. Serenity muttered as they walked away. ¡°Fucking idiot. I should have had you wait around the corner. We could of scored another box.¡± ¡°What¡¯s done is done.¡± James¡¯s plan to ask for an extra-cheap gun had died on the spot. ¡°Now let¡¯s just get back to the bus. I don¡¯t like the look of this neighborhood.¡± ¡°Wait a minute.¡± She moved to a shuttered window ledge and pulled three empty magazines from her purse, then carefully set about loading them with fresh ammo. ¡°These babies won¡¯t do me any good in the box.¡± James hefted his iron skillet and watched the street. The lights came on, orange light competing with the dusk. No traffic. This was some kind of industrial sector. Which was good, cause that meant less people would have called Nemesis 1 around here. But it still made him feel unnerved. They hustled back. Got to the more residential, mix-purpose area, when they saw their first gremlin hunched in a window, watching them with burning red eyes. ¡°Little shit,¡± said Serenity. ¡°Think I should pop him?¡± ¡°Only if he comes for us.¡± James hefted his skillet. ¡°Need to conserve the bullets, right?¡± The gremlin hopped down onto the street, lithe and rangy, and hissed at them. Serenity raised her gun with her stiff-armed stance and squeezed off a shot. The bullet caught the gremlin between the eyes. It backflipped and lay still. ¡°Ha! Get out of New York City, you fuck!¡± Serenity grinned. ¡°Your kind ain¡¯t welcome here.¡± Movement to the left. Serenity turned, gun still up, shot at a second gremlin that was creeping toward them from behind a dumpster. Missed the first shot, hit it square in the chest with the second. ¡°Center mass,¡± she muttered. ¡°Getting stupid, aiming for the head.¡± ¡°Behind us,¡± said James, shifting around so she could turn. A third gremlin was emerging through the shattered window of a car parked just inside an alley. BAM. BAM. Down it went. ¡°Twelve left in the mag,¡± Serenity said reflexively. James glanced around nervously. Each shot had caused a deafening echo to roll down the block. Nobody came to their windows. Nobody but gremlins, that was. ¡°Shit,¡± he breathed, turning in a slow circle. Three or four had emerged onto the edge of the roofs. Another half dozen were stepping into view out of side streets and the alley with the broken car. Serenity scowled. Aimed, fired. Shifted her gun, fired twice. And again. A few seconds later she ejected the magazine. Seven gremlins had collapsed to the ground. The remaining three hesitated, then one of them threw back its head and began to chitter. ¡°What the fuck?¡± demanded Serenity. She slammed a new magazine into the gun, aimed, fired. The chittering gremlin collapsed. ¡°We need to get out of here,¡± said James as the remaining two started their loud chittering, heads also thrown back to the sky. ¡°Let me take care of these first.¡± Serenity aimed, fired. Turned, lifted her arms, aimed, fired. Both went down with bullets to the chest. ¡°You¡¯re really good,¡± said James, impressed. Serenity grinned at him. ¡°I know.¡± The chittering cry went up from a little down the block, and then was picked up by a second gremlin. James gripped his skillet with both hands. ¡°Shit. Run.¡± They took off. The few people still on the street saw them coming and ran in the opposite direction. Doors slammed. Sirens wailed in the distance. The chittering sound was growing louder. Screams from the third floor above them, then a smashing of glass as a woman fell through, a gremlin attached to her neck, to hit the pavement with a sickening crunch. The gremlin looked up at them both, mouth widening into a bloody leer. Before Serenity could react, James hop stepped up and swung the skillet with all his strength like a golf club, catching the gremlin in the face and shattering its skull. ¡°Bus¡¯ll take time to appear!¡± shouted Serenity, turning in a circle, gun extended. The street was a series of illuminated islands now, the sun having set behind the buildings. ¡°What do we do, James?¡± The chittering was growing louder. Hoarse shouts echoed from a block over, panicked, and then a spate of automatic gunfire broke out, only to abruptly cease. Horns were honking from the BQE in the far distance, traffic standing still. ¡°We need to get off the street.¡± James looked around. Shuttered shops. A restaurant? No, they¡¯d just follow them inside. They were right at the border of the industrial area with this trendy neighborhood, warehouses and offices behind them, three story houses and cafes and bookstores ahead. A car careened down the street, swerving wildly, two people wrestling for the wheel inside, then turned the corner and disappeared from view. A moment later there was a loud, muffled THUMP. Action was almost always better than inaction. Gremlins were starting to swarm out of the woodwork, crawling into view. Way too many. ¡°Come on!¡± James shouted, and ran around the corner. The car, a beat-up white Camry, had run straight into a telephone pole. A man had climbed out of the passenger side, a bloody knife in his hands. James slowed, raised his hands. The man¡¯s eyes were wide, crazed, and then he looked back at the woman slumped over the wheel and took off running down the street. ¡°Did he - should I shoot him?¡± Serenity raised her gun. ¡°I¡¯m going to shoot his ass.¡± James pushed her barrel down then ran to the driver¡¯s door. The woman stared up at him, eyes glazed, unblinking. He reached in, felt for a pulse. She was warm, but there was nothing there. ¡°Fuck,¡± he hissed, looked around the street. More chittering was still going on. A summoning cry? A warning? Gremlins were racing toward them now, skittering down the street in ever greater numbers. ¡°In the car!¡± He hauled open the door, yanked the woman out, then climbed in. Her body stopped him from closing the door. Keys were in the ignition. Engine was on. Serenity leaped in, and he slammed into reverse, pulled away from the telephone pole which leaned out after them, and into the street. Gremlins began leaping onto the car. James put the car in drive and slammed on the gas. Slowly it began to accelerate, smoke coming out the crumpled hood. ¡°Go faster!¡± shouted Serenity as thumps started to sound from the cabin roof. A gremlin leaped onto the hood, and she raised the gun reflexively. ¡°Don¡¯t shoot!¡± he screamed, and she just caught herself in time. He had the pedal pushed all the way down, but the car was having trouble going above 15 mph. And the left front wheel was flat. Gremlins were climbing all over the car now, and several on top were letting out their keening call. Gazing desperately about as they trawled down the center of the street, James felt a pang of horror. More and more gremlins were emerging from windows, from across rooftops, from alleyways. Merging with the seething crowd that was following them, leaping onto the car in ever greater numbers. They were collecting every gremlin in the neighborhood, and couldn¡¯t go any faster. Book 1 (Chapters 1 - 57) released on Amazon/KU! (I''ll be pulling all chapters on 2/27/23. With no more content coming, I''ll be closing down Patreon and RR.) What a ride. I didn''t plan on writing Dawn of the Void. I thought Skadi''s Saga was going to be my one attempt at a web novel, and had actually begun working on Bastion 2 when the idea for DotV hit me late one night. It kept me up thinking and first thing the next morning I hammered out a chapter and posted it. No plans, no advance chapters, nothing. Just a desire to explore integrity in the face of extreme adversity, friendship and failure, tragedy and heroism. That was August 8th. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. 500k words later and here we are. Yesterday I posted the last chapter and published the first book on Amazon. It''s going to be a trilogy, and I hope it does well. If you''ve enjoyed the story, I''d really appreciate your popping over to the Amazon book page and dropping a review. Every single one counts and boosts the odds of new readers discovering James and Serenity''s adventures. What''s next? For now I intend to focus on Bastion 2. I really want to continue Skadi''s adventures, however, and plan to return to her world this Fall. Recommended reading: In the meantime, I thought I''d share some RR stories worth checking out. Take a look: Thanks everyone for reading. I''ve appreciated your comments, reviews, and company more than you know. From your reactions to Bjorn taking a bullet to the brain to James hacking his way into the node, it''s been a blast to share this tale with you all. A parting question: what was your favorite moment from the story? Until the next time, everyone. Will be pulling all chapters on 2/27/23 Quick note for those still reading: I''ll be pulling all chapters on 2/27/23. All the content however will be posted to Amazon and be available via KU over the course of this year. Since I¡¯m no longer posting new chapters here or on Patreon, it doesn¡¯t make sense to leave these chapters up. I''ve also pulled the chapters from Patreon. I hope this gives everyone enough time to read all the way through. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Since I need 500 characters to post this announcement, I¡¯ll simply c&p it again: Quick note for those still reading: I''ll be pulling all chapters on 2/27/23. All the content however will be posted to Amazon and be available via KU over the course of this year. Since I¡¯m no longer posting new chapters here or on Patreon, it doesn¡¯t make sense to leave these chapters up. I hope this gives everyone enough time to read all the way through. Dawn of the Void #2 is live on Amazon! (And Book #1 is free) I know most of you have probably read the entire series here on RR, but if you''re interested in picking up the ebook for free over on Amazon KU, you can do so here.
The countdown to Nemesis 3 has begun, pushing humanity closer to the brink of extinction. James and his team are now Earth''s last line of defense amidst the chaos of New York City. But with each Nemesis wave they defeat and each power James unveils, a grim truth unfolds: they''re being manipulated. The enemy not only predicts their actions, it feeds on them. Their struggle may be nothing more than a sinister game or a prelude to annihilation. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. To stand a chance, they must rewrite the rules. In the dwindling light of hope, James embraces his role as a leader. Tough decisions, impossible sacrifices, and the weight of the world on his shoulders ¡ª he''ll face it all. Anything to break the system.
And! Some cover art: Dawn of the Void audiobook is live Hey everyone, Long time no see. I''m just popping in with some news and a question for you all. News: The Dawn of the Void #1 audiobook is now live on Audible and Amazon. It''s the first of three planned audiobooks that''ll encompass the entire story, all of which will be released this year. Tom Taylorson has done an amazing job bringing James and his crew to life - honestly, I really thinks so. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Question: If I were to write a new web serial, would a Wed/Fri release schedule work for you all, if they were longer chapters? All the best, Phil Dawn of the Void Omnibus coming to Kickstarter + New Epilogue Hey everyone! If you enjoyed Dawn of the Void from back in the day (feels like 5 years ago already), then maybe you''ll be excited to hear that on Feb 15th I''ll be launching a Kickstarter to print deluxe hardcovers for the whole Dawn of the Void trilogy. All three books are going to be collected in one massive omnibus edition. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Also, I''ll be writing an Epilogue for the trilogy, seeing what happens next for James and the reset world. If there''s enough interest, I may even explore writing a fourth book, a la SSS-Class Suicide Hunter or the like. I''m going all out with the printing, and hope to produce something truly fantastic: So yeah, if you''re interested in following along and learning when the Kickstarter goes live, just head on over and follow the project here. Man, I''m so excited :) PS: LastRock (aka Bastion #3) is dropping on Feb 6th! Deluxe Collectors Edition Omnibus is live over on Kickstarter! Hey everyone! If you''ve been a fan of this series, then you''ll be interested to know that I''ve collected the entire story and am releasing it as a deluxe hardcover omnibus over on Kickstarter. These are going to be hand signed, and one of the stretch goals is my writing a brand new epilogue exploring what happens next after the last chapter. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. I hope you guys come check it out. There are a lot of bells and whistles, and I think it''ll look gorgeous on your shelf :) Cheers! Phil New fiction out I''ve just dropped the first 9 chapters of Thrones of the Fallen here on Royal Road, and am really excited to be back with a brand new story. I''ve been writing my fingers to the bone with this one, and am already some 250k words in. My hope is that Harald''s story will go the distance, and I can''t wait to hear what you guys think. Here''s the blurb:
Harald Darrowdelve''s journey begins at rock bottom. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Born into privilege, his life of indolence has left him with a weak will and a frail body. But everything changes forever when a demon''s mysterious blessing deep within the angelic corpse dungeon beneath Flutic bestows upon him dark, formidable powers. But power is a double-edged sword. As Harald trains his body and sharpens his mind, his growing accomplishments thrust him deep into the machinations of Flutic''s noble houses and a relentless celestial conflict raging over the dungeon''s arcane secrets. As Harald grows in might and cunning, will his morality survive the ascent, or will the dark allure of power consume him?
This story features: * A slow-burn progression fantasy with consistent, rewarding growth. * A 100 level dungeon * The story has stats, but is crunch light. * Complex characters navigating friendships, rivalries, and political intrigue. * A unique magic system where power comes from consuming the very essence of a fallen celestial being. Come take a look! The Bastion Deluxe Edition Kickstarter Is Live! The Bastion Deluxe Edition Kickstarter Is Live! Hey everyone, It¡¯s finally here! The deluxe edition of Bastion is now live on Kickstarter. This signed hardcover clocks in at over 1,000 pages and features: This is the ultimate collector¡¯s edition, and I couldn¡¯t be more excited to share it with you. Check it out [here], and thank you so much for your support¡ªyou¡¯ve made this possible! Best, Phil