I've made an executive decision to stick to a publishing schedule of:-
- Saturday
- Monday
- Wednesday
And as I will participate in Royal Road's Writathon, I may drop an extra chapter wheneverly.
As for P@treon, I'll make the following chapter to all live chapters FREE to all followers there, rather than to the 1$ tier. Don't be strangers.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
And a month has passed.
Winter settled with a thick layer of snow, enough for Brighthaven to turn misty white, a frigid city with broken infrastructure. Cold winds blew through the long streets, killing the Gobzkin, freezing the Hosts, and driving the Krant back to the depths of the ocean.
What remained were the unfortunate few and their slim possibility of survival in a harsh winter that seemed determined to remind humanity why it had always been one of the greatest causes of death for the unprepared.
In Brighthaven, many were severely unprepared.
Brighthaven Airport was home to one of the region's largest and most fortified refugee camps. The camp's population, numbering nearly ten thousand, was packed into a shantytown that sprawled across the main airport building and the entire runway.
Ajax Wills witnessed it all from the start: how people tried to reach the planes on the barred runway to get as far as possible from the city that had descended into madness and monsters, no one realizing it was the end of the world as a whole.
Many soldiers were ordered to prevent civilians from rushing the runway. However, he learned that his commanding officer possessed a list: a select group of people authorized to access the tarmac, board any available aircraft using the last of the jet fuel at the entire airport, and depart immediately.
The situation rapidly descended into pandemonium. Riots erupted among the people, compelling the soldiers to either discharge their weapons in self-defense or abandon their posts. He, however, possessed a keen intellect that wasn't expected with his imposing stature, keen enough to shed himself of his uniform for civilian attire and hide his military affiliation. While some of his unit followed his lead, the remainder were compelled to withdraw into the city, their status MIA.
For the past eight months, the airport was one of the last places where survivors managed to defend against monsters, while still having access to the cities of Brighthaven and Crownbridge. For some time, people felt they could withstand monsters, but that only lasted for the first three months, the time of summer.
Those with a long-term plan in mind could see the problem with the massive refugee camp, and those who could gather enough salvaged supplies had long since packed up and left. The salvaging operation wouldn't have lasted that long anyway, so as resources went dry right in the middle of winter, and the ten or so militant groups started going crazy at each other, it was high time to pack up and leave.
Even with the relations he established in camp, he knew that when it got worse, these tight-knit militias would fracture from within and fight over every little morsel of food left, and once again, he decided to ditch his colors and leave the losing side.
Of course, someone like him wouldn't leave on a mere whim, and rumors were already spreading about the military presence in Springhead. Six hours on foot was the distance between the two locations, but no six hours in this monster-infested world could go by without at least four monster encounters.
However, people were somewhat hopeful. Last week's blizzard had been bad news, but if the US military had returned to reclaim Brighthaven, things might actually change. So, those who had supplies for the coming six-hour journey made it without hesitation, in small groups, packing light.
That was a month ago, with no news or returners since then. Ajax couldn't interpret this unique situation as anything other than total annihilation for anyone who went that way, or maybe… just maybe… a better place.
The way he had survived thus far had been to watch the flow of hope and go the other way, but he had to admit it to himself this time: he couldn't keep doing that. He was tired, low on everything, and a six-hour hike in this snow might just be the last jab he could throw. That's how he found himself on the road to Springhead.
Before hitting the road, a man had to plan, and a veteran such as himself knew how to do so. He spent a day bartering for information on the road to the north, and information wasn't cheap in the camp. He traded a magazine of 9mm just to learn that the bridge over North Shore Road had collapsed, and the same was true for Omen Turnpike, making a railroad bridge between these two locations the most ideal path to take. Others would take their chances and try to cross over the frozen bodies of water in this marsh region, but Ajax knew that this was no different from suicide and kept looking for as many bridge-crossing options as he could.
Alone on the road, Ajax checked his military-issue compass, calibrated it to the map he had, and kept walking northward, hoping that his route wouldn't be as eventful as his last day in the airport camp.
The first hour went as well as he hoped, and since he moved right after the first light of dawn, he knew that he would soon be followed by other stragglers who watched him prepare for the journey. He didn't know whether they wanted to mug him or simply use him to test the road ahead, but whatever it was, he knew that he alone would make good progress in this snow. He had snowshoes ready for this journey, and whatever footsteps he'd leave behind would hopefully lead others to safety… if any existed.
The second hour was when exhaustion hit, but Ajax felt proud of his progress at the very least. He knew that at this pace, not everyone could simply keep up with him, and he earned himself a little rest. However, he couldn't help but notice some fresh sets of foot trails crossing his path in the snow. They looked very recent and must have belonged to more than a single person, as whoever it was must have been treading through heavy snow without proper snowshoes.
Whoever they were, they either needed to find a better trail or start making some makeshift snow gear, else they wouldn't get far.
Ajax found himself away from that early trail, which gave him some peace of mind. But as soon as he reached what was supposed to be the railway, he couldn't help but frown and look long and hard at his situation. The bridge was there, it was undamaged from where he looked, but the problem was that it was somewhat busy… with cars.
Many signs of battle were seen, and from the looks of it, this went back to D-Day. Perhaps the nearby bridges had been packed with cars, so some smart people had the bright idea of driving over the railroad bridge with their sedans and trucks.
It didn't go well, for sure. The bridge might have been wide enough, but it surely attracted either Gobzkin or Dark Hosts, and it became crowded when people panicked and tried to drive back. A death trap, probably, and a nasty one at that.
To navigate through it, Ajax had his pistol and machete on hand, hoping not to meet any sort of trouble. The weather was on his side, but Fate remained the same old, cruel, and fickle mistress he knew, and he wasn't going to tempt her. He crossed over the cars, looked through every car he had to climb, made sure his retreat was as secure as his footing, and by the mercy of the heavens, he crossed the bridge, the first of two.
The area beyond this point was a reservation, a big patch of land covered in the thickest layer of snow he had crossed so far. Thankfully, his makeshift snowshoes withstood the test, and it even became much better when he combined them with two walking sticks that he had prepared in advance.
Slowly, he was making progress northward, but just as he was about to approach the second bridge, he heard a loud crack echoing in the wind. From that distance, it was unmistakably gunfire.
He ducked and looked behind him, but there was nothing. Another crack of gunfire came again, but this time, he was able to identify that it came from the west.
Small caliber, too far a distance, not aimed at me! His sharp senses picked up more information, which registered louder than he hoped, all thanks to the skill he possessed.
It all meant that the shooter wasn't after him, but if the latest situation with Gobzkin using firearms was to be believed, it didn't necessarily rule out the possibility of a dumb gob spotting him from a far distance and getting some sniper fantasies in its ugly head.
Ajax widened his steps, and his backpack started rocking left and right as he moved. He soon arrived at the next bridge, still hearing gunfire at a distance. However, as soon as he reached the other railway bridge, not only did he find it blocked by cars, but destroyed by something designed to collapse it.
Ajax groaned as he looked down, sensing that the ice might not be able to carry him. As it was covered in a layer of snow, he feared that it might have insulated the ice surface beneath and that it wouldn't even be thick enough to carry him.
It wasn't worth the risk, but to cross to the other side of the land, he had to go west and try the bridge over Omen Turnpike, exactly the place where he suspected the shooter to be. Ajax retreated to contemplate his plan of action while holstering his gun and taking his rifle from the side of his backpack.
He looked ahead through its scope, which seemed very short-ranged, and couldn't make out anything. However, he felt movement south of him, and as he turned, he was able to spot people coming from the first bridge, a sight that made him curse.
"Fuck!"
He didn't like his chances against a group of survivors who may or may not be friendly, and the only way right now was to move west immediately, leaving two trails that might hopefully distract his tailers for some time.
As he pressed west for a few minutes, he was welcomed by an open road that was buried under snow, albeit a thinner layer than the rest of the reservation. It took him straight towards the bridge far to the west, where he could figure out the shooter's situation.
"HAA! HAA! GET… GET BACK… BACK AWAY!"
One large-built man—the same height as Ajax—stood tall, a metal stick in hand, waving it left and right at a group of little creatures the size of dogs, but with humanoid shapes, yet walked on four limbs.
"Shrinkers!" Ajax exclaimed and gritted his teeth, seeing a number of those things around.
——————————
[ Shrinker ] < Small Host, Invader >
A second-phase Dark Host that evolved into a corrupted image of the world's native inhabitants, trying to mimic the natives' survival mechanisms. While not particularly strong, they possess sharp nails and fangs and are dangerous in numbers.
——————————
The Shrinker hosts were indeed as the system described: easy to kill but dangerous in numbers. What the system overlooked, however, was their unholy ugliness, looking like dehydrated humans that had fully shrunk, with vertical, slit mouths and three-fingered hands and legs, each ending with a sharp claw.
Truly the stuff of horror.
Ajax was conflicted about helping the large man who held the bridge, but as he took a better look, he noticed a woman in black, resting against the door of a car, a pistol in hand, and seemingly in a devastated state.
Those two seemed like they were surrounded and couldn't make it.
To survive this, Ajax shouldn't wait but instead try to use the ruined car as cover to cross over the bridge, now that the monsters are distracted by the couple. Still, it didn't feel right to him.
He approached slowly, taking cover as he went, and thought to himself. He wasn't even sure he would survive; it would be pretty shameful if his last act were abandoning his fellow man. It would be a shame to face God that way, having to walk away from everyone he might have helped.
Immediately, he stepped quickly past the car, his speed superior to his movement before. This time, he was sure he was burning the fuel within him, using his specialty skill to the fullest, now that he, a warrior, had found something to ignite his [Fighting Spirit].
As he arrived near the scene, standing only behind a car that separated him from the large man, Ajax centered himself.
He freed himself from the snowshoes, and with all his might, he launched himself straight towards the car that was between him and the fighting scene.
"GET OFF THE WAY!"
The large man heard him all right, and as the man immediately jumped off the area, Ajax clashed into the broken car with the momentum of a speeding truck. He crashed into its side and caused it to fly, pulverizing anything between it and the van on the other side.
The Shrinkers between the two vehicles were immediately squished like bugs, and the rest of them scattered in surprise before pausing their run and stopping not far from the scene, watching and hissing as a new adversary entered.
Ajax recovered from the powerful action he had just performed, which caused both the man and the woman to look at him with fearful eyes. Still, he doubted that he would need to waste bullets, so he slung his rifle and took out his machete.
With most of the Shrinkers dead, he could solo the remaining pests.
✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧
NEXT CHAPTER IS FREE ON P@TREON!