As Morgan walked along, hand on his sword hilt, he thought about his plan. He would head south until he reached the section Kathrine had mentioned and then work in a line up and down each block until he his the edge of town. That would be the best.

  As the last rays of the sun were burning crimson streaks across the sky, Morgan began to hear the sounds of creatures waking. There were loud grunts and growls far off in the distance. He assumed groups were fighting each other.

  Sophia reminded him.

  ::Your current attributes are Str - 12, Dex - 12, Con - 15, Wis - 11, Int - 11.::

  ::Your current attributes are Str - 12, Dex - 16, Con - 15, Wis - 11, Int - 11.::

  he asked.

  Morgan nodded and kept walking.

  He got to the crest of the hill where he had caught up to Frank. The bloody bandages and scraps of clothing still remained. He soaked in the scene and let it somber his mood. He was still in danger; this wasn’t going to be easy. But, he had faced death, given into it, and then rejected it only half a mile from this very spot.

  He had been prepared to die to try and save that little girl, and that is what matters. He had saved the girl, he had saved Frank, and everything he did from now on was going to be icing on the cake. He had already done more than he ever thought he would in his previously unremarkable life.

  He removed his backpack, hid it under some of the large pieces of debris, and stretched. Drawing his sword and practicing moves he knew the names of and didn’t know why or how. He flowed quickly and easily from form to form, gracefully sliding the blade through the air as if he had been training with it for years.

  The massive change those four dexterity made was astounding. He could feel the moves in his muscles before he made them. Five minutes later, he returned the sword to its sheath, breathing heavy but not ragged. He was ready to begin.

  As he was thinking which way to start, he remembered that Frank had wanted to check on a friend of his who lived outside town, down this road. Deciding to take a detour and check on Frank’s friend before clearing the section that Katherine wanted, he jogged down the road. His stamina bar went down as he ran, but replenished every 10 seconds or so.

  The two-lane road left town and wound through the slowly thickening push of pine trees. The trees were large and overgrew the road. The harsh and fresh scent of pine was refreshing. As Frank had directed, about half a mile outside of town, the road ended in a cul-de-sac. Only one driveway with a mailbox is split off. The gravel driveway had a metal gate about twenty feet from the pavement, adorned with a large sign declaring it private property.

  Morgan bounded over the gate and jogged down the gravel drive. He could hear the sound of the river getting closer on his right. Soon, the river came into view; it came within fifteen feet of the drive and then ran parallel into the distance, where some bright light was shining through the pine needles. Morgan leapt into a tree, amazed that he was able to just jump five or six feet off the ground.

  Ahead 100 feet, Morgan could see a short four-foot wall with globes of light floating above it every 10 feet or so. The lights illuminated a large walled yard, about 50 feet wide, enclosed on three sides and open to the riverbank on the other. In the center of the yard was a raised house made of poured concrete with a set of pillars and a car parked under the house.

  There was a long ramp up and around to the main landing. Scattered in the yard was a collection of zombies with arrow shafts protruding from their bodies. Morgan counted almost 20 zombies. It was impressive. He was just getting ready to hop down and approach the house when an arrow thudded into the tree about a foot above his head. Spinning and crouching as he dropped, he dove behind a nearby tree.

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  “I am not a zombie. Don’t shoot!” He yelled.

  “I know you ain’t no zombie. Never seen one climb no tree. Just get your hide on outta here, we don't want no trouble.” A low, gruff no-nonsense voice called back.

  “I’m looking for a Mr. Marcus and his wife. My friend Frank said they lived out here.” Morgan called hopefully.

  “Frank ain’t got no ‘friends’. Ornery coot ain’t do nothing but work and workout.” The voice said.

  “I work with him at the plant. He was hurt yesterday when we were on our way here. He is recovering back at the Academy.”

  “Now why in the hell…” the voice started, “that dumb son o’ a bitch. He would try to cross the whole damn infested city.”

  A softer female voice said, “Marcus, let the man alone; he wouldn't lie about being a friend of Frank’s.”

  “Alright, I ain’t gonna shoot, you can come closer.”

  Morgan, holding his hands up away from his sword, walked into the light near the wall. The man, he could see now, was on the wrap-around porch of the house, standing at the railing in front of a rocking chair. He held a large crossbow in his hand. On the porch next to him were three more crossbows.

  Morgan leaned against the wall and said, “Hello, I’m Morgan. Nice to meet you.”

  Morgan thought to himself.

  “Name’s Marcus, Wife is Jiwoo,” Marcus said. He was a thin, wiry black man who had a close-shaved head and a large bushy gray mustache. He was wearing a set of old marine fatigues that had been sun-bleached from extended wear. He had one large gold stud in his right ear. “Need to come in for safety? It’s been dark out there a good minute?”

  “No, sir, I …” Morgan started.

  “Ehh. Cut out that sir shit. You can call me Gunny.” The man interrupted.

  “Okay, Gunny. I am just checking on you before doing a patrol in the town. I know Frank would want to know. I am glad you are ok. Do you need anything I can help with?”

  “No, we are alright. Had some of the little green assholes here earlier yesterday, fast as spit they are. But tonight, just these slow zombies. I got food and water for a spell. Just let old Frank know we are fine.”

  “Ok, will do si… Gunny.” Morgan said. “I guess I will go then. I will be back with Frank.”

  “Good luck on your patrol,” The man said, sitting back into the rocking chair and pulling a blanket over his lap.

  Morgan returned to the town. Glad that Frank’s friend was safe. He had dreaded the thought of telling him otherwise. Starting on a much-needed light note, he began the night’s hunt.

  Moving swiftly and as quietly as he could, he made his way house to house. As expected, he found the enemies were numerous. Unexpectedly, they now felt unremarkable. He mowed through all the goblins and kobolds without missing a beat. They struck him, cut his clothes and skin, but the pain was quickly becoming an old friend.

  The troglodytes were slower, but sturdier. They died more slowly, but just as inevitably. As one swung at him, its claws extended, Morgan’s new dexterity made the dodge, parry, and thrusting riposte a single, fluid motion that ended the threat instantly. He felt the grace of his movements, a cold, focused efficiency he hadn't possessed hours earlier. His Iron Skin skill meant that strikes that were not a direct, straight-on hit usually skittered off his skin.

  He had stopped at one point and cut the sleeve off his shirt; they were already in tatters. He tied the strips of sleeve around his pant legs just below his knees to keep them from getting further flayed and snagged on things. He had also picked up another sword and sheath from a troglodyte, so he wore a sword on both hips. He hit level nine and got to choose a skill.

  ::Common - Frost bolt - It’s like a sharp snow cone, just in your face. ::

  ::Common - Strength - Increase your strength by 2. (Warrior)::

  “Strength is the only real choice.”

  ::Your current attributes are Str - 14, Dex - 16, Con - 15, Wis - 11, Int - 11::.

  At around 3 am, a chime sounded. The sky once again brightened, and the puppet man appeared.

  “Congratulations!” The puppet man held up his hands, swinging sparkler fireworks through the sky, “You have made it through the first 24 hours. In 24 more hours, phase two will begin.” The puppet man held up a large scroll and made a point of squinting and reading it. “There are now 58% of the initial population of Earth remaining. Get stronger as fast as you can. In 24 hours, the top 10% will get an additional reward.” The view zoomed in on puppet man’s eyes as they turned into dollar signs that rotated in his eyes. “Good luck! The fate of your world depends on it.” The puppet man gave a thumbs up, broke into tiny pieces that each sprouted legs and ran away, fading into the dark.

  ::Ability point gained, Skill point gained.::

  Morgan paused his patrol. He only had the last street in town between him and the forest, about 14 houses.

  He said, wiping a layer of sweat from his face,

  ::Your current attributes are Str - 14, Dex - 17, Con - 15, Wis - 11, Int - 11.::

  ::Uncommon - Examine - Study an object to get more information. Pipe and magnifying glass not required.::

  ::Rare - Flame Ward - Wreath yourself in flames, not as cool while caroling.::

  ::Skill Granted - Examine.::

  Looking at the sword in his hand, he thought, Examine.

  ::Troglodyte’s Short Sword -Common- Material: Iron - Weight: 2lbs. No special properties.::

  Well, at least the skill works without mana.

  Morgan cleared the rest of the houses that night without any remarkable fights. He returned to the site of Frank’s horrible injuries and retrieved his backpack before jogging back to the Academy. With a quick look at his tokens, he was taken aback: 346 common and 15 uncommon tokens. Well, this night gets better and better. I might be able to get some better equipment now.