Morgan asked.

  Sophia paused slightly before beginning.

  A short list appeared in the corner of his vision.

  ::Your current attributes are Str - 12, Dex - 10, Con- 10, Wis - 10, Int - 10.::

  Morgan had already been about to interrupt Sophia, but shook his head and waited for her to continue.

  Morgan thought, putting his hands up in front of him.

  Sophia continued,

  Sophia explained.

  The small box appeared in the corner for a few seconds again.

  ::Your current attributes are Str - 12, Dex - 12, Con - 15, Wis - 10, Int - 10.::

  Morgan found himself nodding along and smiling slightly as she read off the benefits he had unlocked.

  Morgan said, “Frank, I am done with my points.”

  Frank opened his eyes, blinked twice, then seemed to realize it was still dark and shut them again.

  “Took you a bit. There are a lot of options.” He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, “Which tree did you decide on? I went with the defender archetype for most, got a boost to strength and constitution, a couple in the healer tree to increase healing effects. My best skill is the super hearing. That’s useful, but maybe not as much for what’s going on right now.” Frank continued to ramble on a little, kinda lost in his own words. “Also, something that increases stealth, don’t know what that does, but it was a rare one that came up random.”

  “About that,” Morgan began. “I am not able to use the skill trees. Didn’t even get to see them, all my skills are random.”

  Frank shook his head. He had opened his eyes and was staring into the dark, but the look on his face was that of pure shock.

  “What?! How did that happen?”

  “One of my first two random skills locked me out of the skill trees. Now all my skills are a selection from two random skills.”

  “Well, don’t worry lad. I am sure you will get lucky eventually.”

  “I don’t know, I might be lucky now. I don’t really know what everything does yet. But I have some outright unbelievable skills. I have some that increase my fighting skill,” He had started to raise a finger to count them out in front of Frank, but realized it was dark and he wouldn't be able to see the fingers. “a first aid boost, and then I have regeneration… but like your stealth, I don’t know what that actually means.”

  “Give yourself a little prick on the finger with this,” Frank reached to his waist and pulled out a small Swiss Army knife from his duty belt. He held it out confidently to the darkness, his eyes looking blankly at nothing.

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  “Might as well give it a go. I still have some of the aid bandages if needed.”

  Morgan opened the knife. Pressed the cold iron to his finger and felt it grab and catch just a bit in his skin. Then he just sat for a second, his short-lived confidence faded now that he actually realized what he was about to do. Taking a deep breath, he slowly placed his thumb on the blade, then, in a quick motion, drew the blade a half inch as he pulled his thumb along it.

  He cursed as the sting of the razor-sharp blade registered. Of course, Frank’s knife was the sharpest knife Morgan had ever used, and he had pushed too hard. The sight of the blood in the black and white of his night vision, a growing line of dark black blood, almost made him start hyperventilating again. Frank, hearing the change in breathing, thumbed on the lighter, and the black blood in Morgan’s vision turned into a bright crimson line.

  “Damn it, lad, I said give it a prick, not cut the blasted thing off.” Genuine worry played along Frank’s face.

  With a wipe of his other thumb, the blood disappeared in a smear to show Morgan’s uninjured thumb.

  A dopey grin on his face, Morgan held his hand up closer to the light.

  “Not a mark on it. That’s awesome. Still hurt like hell though.”

  Slowly grabbing Morgan’s hand and looking rotating it back and forth, he said. “If you want, can you do it again, but slower, not so hard, and in the light?”

  Morgan used the knife once more. This time in the light, he could see the red blood well up from the narrow slice. It stung, but he forced himself not to flinch; it itched for a split second, and then a faint scar appeared and that faded, and his finger was good as new. Total heal time was less than two seconds.

  “Incredible.” Frank said quietly, “Well, I take it back, lad. You already got lucky.”

  Standing Frank said, “Well, if you are ready, let’s get headed to town. Hopefully, we can make it before dawn and people start waking up and leaving their houses.”

  “Do you really think we should?” Morgan asked, “I mean, you saw those things. There could be who knows how many more of them out there.”

  “We might be able to help people.” He said softly, “We are going to help people. We can’t help everyone, but we can help someone. They are going to be waking up, without power, possibly thinking they dreamed the booming voice in the sky. These weird boxes in front of their faces.” Frank looked up and deep into Morgan’s eyes, talking louder. “Then they see a group of goblins banging on their door or dragging their neighbor down the street. I am not gonna force you to come if you don’t want to.”

  He motioned towards the loading docks with his hand. “I am not gonna make anyone out there come if they don’t want to, either. But, after we leave this room, I am walking to town. I will go alone if I have to, but it is something I need to do,” Frank finished his voice calm and determined. “I wouldn't be able to face myself in the mirror if I didn’t.”

  Morgan hesitated just a second; he was afraid. George’s death had really shaken him. It could have been him, or any of them out there. But, it could also be some old woman or a child in the town. Could he really sit here on the hill looking down, knowing that people were going through what they had just done? Could he do that and not hate himself? He made up his mind. Nodding once sharply, he placed his hand on Frank’s shoulder. “Let’s go, we got about two hours till dawn.”

  “Glad to have you with me, all those goblins aren’t going to kill themselves,” Frank said.

  Walking out of the break room, Morgan spotted Sean and the others out in the field, just putting the last few shovels of dirt on the hasty grave. They walked over to the group somberly. One of the guys was saying a prayer as they stood with their heads bowed.

  “That was fast,” Frank said, “Couldn't have been more than five minutes since we went to the break room.”

  One of the guys, Marlow, a young black man who graduated high school early this year, with a sad smile said, “I got a skill to move a bunch more dirt when digging. Made the hole in less than a minute. Made one for the goblins as well. Took us twice as long to fill George’s, because everyone wanted to throw some dirt.”

  He held out the shovel to Frank. “We saved the last bit for you and Morgan, if you wanted.”

  Frank took the shovel in his large hand and, with a slow nod, said, “I appreciate that. He was the first to fall, but sadly, I don’t think he will be the last.” With much deliberation, he filled the shovel from a small pile nearby and poured it onto the fresh mound at barely a tickle until the last bits had fallen.

  “Rest in peace,” he whispered.

  Taking a deep breath, he handed the shovel to Morgan. Morgan mimed Frank and performed the same ritualistic pouring of dirt, woodenly and not really thinking about it. He was lost in his own thoughts.

  This was real. There were monsters in the world, and they were killing people. This was going to go on for a year, getting harder and harder. Again, he had to fight down the shutters of fear that gripped him. To hide the shaking of his hands, he dropped the shovel on the pile of leftover dirt and shoved his hands in his pockets.

  The seven men stood for a silent thirty seconds before Sean said, “We talked a bit, and these two want to stay here with Jordan,” he indicated the forklift operator who now had a red-tinted bandage on the side of his head. “Me and Marlow live the other way, and want to make sure our folks are good. We know you are headed to town, but Marlow’s grandma lives alone out there and…”

  Frank raised his hand, interrupting, “That’s perfectly alright. Take care of your family first. We will split into groups then. If you can, send some word back here. I will be back sometime soon, and we will have a better grasp on what is happening. Was there anything on those goblins?”

  “We didn’t find anything but tiny weapons and some scraps of cloth and leather.”

  “Okay then. Well, I guess we should head out. Good luck, keep your heads on a swivel.” Frank then walked to each man and gave them a handshake and a low, quiet word of encouragement.

  Morgan stood there, his hands clenching and relaxing unconsciously in his pockets.

  Frank finished his round of handshakes and walked back to ask Morgan. “You still willing to head to town?”

  Morgan had just begun to steel himself. “You were right, we are ill-prepared for this, but we need to help the people in town. They are going to be in a worse situation than we were.” Morgan was beginning to feel the terror creep back in; he was barely able to keep his voice from shaking.

  They grabbed their bags and coats and waved farewell to the group of men still standing silently beside George’s grave.

  Morgan had the axe handle through the flashlight hook of his belt and was wearing the aid backpack that they had placed the toolkit inside of. Frank wore a backpack filled with most of the first aid supplies and carried his large crowbar. They walked in silence down the road from the pharmaceutical factory in the mountains overlooking the town.

  In the pale moonlight, Morgan could barely see the buildings of the town that lay below in a neat block pattern and the ribbon of river running beside it. There flames below, and the black ribbons of smoke rose against the gray clouds like fingers grasping towards the moon. They had gone about a quarter mile before Morgan heard quietly from behind him.

  “This isn't gonna work for too long, lad. I can barely see where I am going, and once we leave the plant, it is all tree-covered roads till we hit the town. We need to figure something else out. Make a torch or something, cant believe I didn't think of this before”

  “Can you hold onto my backpack? I can see just fine. If we walk down the middle of the road, there won’t be anything to trip you up.”

  “That could work,” he replied, grabbing onto the bag on Morgan’s back. They continued at a slow but steady pace. Morgan is leading the way, with Frank following him, listening intently to their surroundings.