Chapter 10

Chapter 10



Strength: 5

Toughness: 4

Agility: 6

Intelligence: 10

Perception: 5

Will: 6Visit no(v)eLb(i)n.com for the best novel reading experience

Companionship: 1

Skill Points Available: 3. Feat points available: 2.

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I wasnt happy. Only three skill points for leveling, a pretty big decrease from the previous level up. My previous allocation was spent mainly as a much needed reality check. However, if Id known the two points of Strength Id increased to test physical changes was two thirds of what Id get for a normal level, I would never have considered it. Id made an error, assuming five skill points per level would be the norm.

And as I learned recently, errors could be fatal. I needed to be more careful with my points.

My first inclination was to just dump everything into Intelligence. Yes, I know. The same instinct from the very start. It was both the area I had the most confidence in and the primary stat for my class. However, I also thought about the recent encounter with Daphne and the rest of the Users. Thinking back, the biggest factor was probably Agility. First, I missed my shot on Wife-beater guy. I was aiming for his knee and barely hit his leg. Second, that damn black Escalade almost smeared me against the wall before I could jump through Kinsleys door. And when I did go through, insteading of cushioning my fall like a normal person, I smashed my face into the floor instead. If Kinsley had been hostile, that would have been the end.

I had already decided I needed to be mobile with my armor and stay out of fights whenever possible. The dagger also depended on speed and precision, not brute strength. But intelligence and perception were also critical. Without noticing the AC Unit as quickly as I did and coming up with a plan to use it, I would have also been screwed. And intelligence was a key class skill. Decision made, I split three points between Agility, Intelligence, and Perception.

Next, I considered the feat list. It was really far too long and difficult to manage when I didnt know what I was building towards. Assassin I> was more tempting after the clusterfuck Id just witnessed. But it was only a 15% increase in my probably lacking damage against other Users. And more importantly, I doubted the dungeon was stocked with Users.

I scrolled until I found something useful in both short and long term.



Far too good to pass up. When I used the ability on the car chasing behind me, it felt like the air was sucked straight out of my lungs. That could have ended badly. Right now it was borderline dangerous to use the ability in perilous situations, exactly when I needed it most. Plus, it would work for me in the dungeon.

I set my alarm, assuming the pain of the leveling process would likely knock me out in my current state of exhaustion. Then I pressed confirm. A dull wave of electricity washed over my entire body, as muscle mass rearranged and expanded. The feeling traveled to my temple, my eyes. Excruciating, but decidedly less painful this time.

My body went limp, and I saw only black.

/////

I awoke to a banging on my door. Hating the cruel spears of sunlight stabbing through my windows, I opened it, finding Ellison standing there. My brother looked more irritated than usual. I thought you were broke.

Morning.

If youd just lent me some, Iris wouldnt have needed to help.

Jesus ChristEllison, I just woke up. And I am broke. I glared at my brother.

Ellison gave me a sure look. Tell that to the Willy Wonka moment Iris and Mom are having in the kitchen.

Oh.

I rubbed nascent sleep out of my eye and stumbled my way to the kitchen. Iris was three spoonfuls deep into a pint of Rocky Road, far too awake for this early in the morning. She grinned at me, chocolate smeared on her face and fingers as she signed. You got my favorite.

Of course he did. My mother placed a hefty serving of bacon on a faux china plate at the center of the table. Hes your brother. She had an apron tied around her waist. Grease sizzled as she swirled eggs in a scratched up teflon skillet.

Would you like any Fancies or Munchkins with that? Ray asked.

I froze.

What? What the fuck is a munchkin? Balaclava guy asked.

Our signature donut hole treat. Theyre made in a variety of flavors. Its six for a pack of twenty-five, or eleven for fifty. Ray listed off the information calmly, as if he were talking to a suburban mother, rather than a masked gunman.

Just give me the donuts man! Balaclava guys eyes were wild.

Quickly and carefully, I handed the man his three boxes of doughnuts. Taking me by surprise, he paid with a crinkled fifty. As soon as I made change for him, he swiped the twenty out of my hand and sprinted out the door with the boxes crushed under one arm, weapon held loosely in the other.

I glared at Ray. Did you really just try to upsell Mr. Grassy Knoll?

Ray held his hands out defensively. Muscle memory, kid.

A wave of people streamed in after that, quelling any discussion of calling the cops. I was able to pick up from bits of panicked conversation that the local stores and markets were bare shelved, as Id suspected they would be, but not nearly this quickly.

The pace was exhausting. Even down-in-the-trenches Ray was ready to throw in the towel by noon. Like a sun-stricken shepherd, he waded into the sea of people crammed into the already tiny lobby, arms held wide, pushing them out and telling them to come back tomorrow. We were all out of everything and there simply wasnt anything to buy, except raw ingredients.

I leaned against the wall, exhausted.

Im going to clean up. Ray rinsed stray sugar from his hands with a damp washcloth.

Whats happening? I shook my head. Id expected panic, but this was too soon. There was something else driving it.

I dont know. But you should find out, make sure your family is safe. Get some supplies as well, before its too late. Somethins not right.

Youre letting me go early?

Relax kid, Ill pay you the full day. God knows you worked for it. And grab a bag of the munchkins on your way out. I stashed a few for us before the mob cleaned us out.

Thanks, Ray. I undid my black apron, hanging it on the rack next to the cleaning supplies, and exited out the back with the free snacks.

Ellison was right on the outage, wrong on the scale of it. It wasnt limited to our apartment. Or our neighborhood, or our block for that matter. Even the spotty 4G for my burners perilously limited data plan couldnt pull up Reddit, or the half-dozen other forum-type websites I frequented. It could pull up Google.

I typed in the word what and the page immediately brought up suggestions.

Whats wrong with the internet in Dallas.

Whats happening in Dallas.

What is Dallas dome.

What is the forcefield in Dallas.

No results. No news articles other than several that were days old at this point, detailing the freak meteor that had destroyed a building and ongoing recovery efforts.

Desperate, I found a discarded newspaper in a trash can, flipping it up to look at the headline beyond the fold. The picture depicted a mass of protesters pressing up against the blockade. But they werent being held back by people. There was a strange orange light, curved upward and inward holding them back. The National Guard was looking on from the outside, one of them yelling something.

The headline was one word: Trapped.

/////

I didnt know what to do, but at least BORN NIHILIST> was keeping my anxiety in check. My plan of getting my family out was seeming less and less likely. But the food situation was only getting worse, and if supplies and shipping were cut off from us? The word apocalypse was overused these days, but it sure seemed to fit. Incidents like that guy with the gun this morning were going to seem tame if this got worse.

There was only one thing left to do. I pulled the dungeon key from my inventory. Something called to me, like a deep tug pulling me forwards. I followed it.