I did not arise at the crack of dawn the next morning. I’d stayed up late, trying various armor solutions out. The one I’d finally decided on as a good mix of “doable” and “protective” was ripping out part of the seams on some puffer vests, pulling out the stuffing, filling the space with paper, and sealing the cuts with my rapidly-dwindling supply of duct tape. I’d thought I had an ample supply, but I’d gone through nearly a roll already. Clearly, no amount of duct tape was too much to have in an emergency.

I’d also cut a few lengths of ribbon and glued them to some of the thicker softcovers to make ramshackle vambraces. For leg protection, I’d pulled the cloth lining out of mine and the kids’ rain boots and replaced it with sheaves of paper. Getting them on was a struggle now, and they’d probably give us blisters, but blisters were better than gouges, and I was hopeful they’d only be a minor effort for Gavin to heal.

It was far from perfect, but I was worried that taking the time to craft something more protective would backfire. We knew a solid weakness for the enemies I’d fought. How long before something more dangerous arrived? So I’d done my best to make four suits of crappy armor and collapsed into bed.

The kids had all slept in the master bedroom with me, something I’d never allowed before. Vince and I had kept a pretty strict “the parents’ room is for the parents” policy. I didn’t expect to sleep well with them crowding me, but I knew I wouldn’t sleep if they weren’t close. If something happened to them in the night…

I’d surprised myself by hitting the pillow and not remembering anything else until I woke up the next morning with Cassie’s foot on my cheek. It was unusual for her to sleep in, but I’d completely forgotten about naptime yesterday. I blearily pushed myself out of bed, inadvertently waking her as I shifted.

As soon as my bedroom door creaked open, Gavin shouted, “Mom, the TV is STILL not working today!”

“Yep,” I said. “It won’t be working tomorrow, either. Or the next day. It is completely broken.”

“Whaaaaat?” Gavin seemed shocked. His six-year-old brain had little conception of a world free from electronics. “We should get a new one!”

“All the new ones are broken too. All the TVs, Gavin. Every single one, everywhere.”

“Well… maybe we will find one that is not broken.”

It was too early in the day for this. “Maybe. If you see one that’s working, you tell me, okay?”

I fed the kids a lackluster breakfast of cream cheese on cold bagels with a glass of milk. There was an aftertaste of sourness and I sighed, mentally adding “milk” to the list of things I didn’t expect to taste again anytime soon. I stuck it back in the fridge anyway. I thought I remembered hearing that making yoghurt at home was a fairly straightforward process. I didn’t remember the details, but maybe I had a book that explained it? I’d try to look tonight. If I couldn’t find anything, I might try to make it into butter. I was almost certain you could do that just by shaking it a lot and draining off the watery bits. It would be a lot of work, but I was very hesitant to waste calories we’d need later.

When the kids finished eating, I clapped my hands to get their attention.

“Alright! Everyone use the bathroom. That’s going to be tough after we get your armor on. After we get all of us geared up, Micah and I will test the squirt guns. If it works we’ll all go out.”

We were momentarily delayed by the news that the toilets were no longer flushing, but I put off solving that problem until later. It was a decision I knew I’d regret, but every choice lately had been a selection from a list of bad options.

I helped the kids into the vests I’d prepared for them. For everyone but me, I’d been able to find a too-large vest that would cover their torso and hips. Mine, I’d stolen from Vince’s closet. I wasn’t that much shorter than him, though, so it came just past my waistline. I wanted to make something like a Roman legionnaire skirt to protect my upper legs, but I hadn’t had time yet. Maybe tonight. Each vest, including mine, also had a crappy duct tape sheath at the left side with a steak knife in it. The kids wouldn’t be able to carry their water guns and their spears, but I wanted them to have something they could use at close range, if they needed it.

The glue on the vambraces had set well overnight, and I quickly knotted the ribbons around our arms. With the addition of our modded bike helmets, all our most vulnerable points had at least some protection.

I hadn’t treated this armor with ghost pepper. That made me nervous, but I just knew the kids would touch me or their armor and then touch their damn eyes.

I took Micah’s squirt gun, an off-brand version of a Super Soaker, gave it a good shake, then pumped it full of air pressure. I pointed out the back window.

“You see that leafenrat by the fence? We’re going to step out and I want you to shoot it once, immediately. Then I want you to put your back to the door and keep an eye out for other threats. If you see anything else, shout to me and shoot it if you can. Do your very best not to hit me, and be careful not to touch your face if your hands get wet at all. If you have to move, try to keep your back to the house and stay out from under the trees. Okay?”

My oldest child nodded, face pale. “What about my ability?”

“If it’s just that one, don’t use it. If any more come, you can do one fire like the one you used to start the cook fire yesterday. No more. I don’t want to have to drag you inside if you fall asleep like Gavin did.”

“Okay,” he said, voice small.

“Pointy, you know the… backup plan.”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Cassie, Gavin, cheer us on.”

There wasn’t much else to say. I met Micah’s eyes. “Ready?”

He nodded.

“Go!” I opened the door and he dashed through, brave even though I could see that it scared him witless. I quickly followed him out and pulled it shut behind me.

Micah panicked and immediately shot a splash of water onto the bricks of our small patio, long before the leafenrat was in range. A gulping sob escaped him as he saw his awful miss.

“It’s okay!” I yelled, though my heart sunk.

I held my spear out, trying to put myself between Micah and the leafenrat. If I could hit it, great. If not, I’d get ready to kick it.

Once again, the agile monster managed to dodge out of the way of my spearpoint at the last minute. As it cut to the side, I heard Micah yell and saw a weak stream of half-pressurized water shoot out. It didn’t travel far, but the leafenrat was nearly at point-blank range. It hit the creature’s mouth and one of its eyes and the thing’s efficient charge crumpled into an uncoordinated trainwreck of pain.

It began emitting that same ambulance noise that the first one had, and it was paying no attention to us at all. A splash of water and trace amounts of oil had this much of an effect? Forget demon peppers; those ghost peppers were a gift from heaven.

“Watch for others!” I reminded Micah, and he guiltily took his eyes off the wailing wreck near us to scan our surroundings. I stabbed at our fallen foe, but it took me three jabs before the leafenrat dissolved the mist that signified our victory. I grimaced. Totally incapacitated opponent, and I was still so ineffective. I needed to get better.

“Back inside,” I told my son.

The two of us tumbled through the door, me bumping into the back of him in my haste to get back inside and leave our foes behind us.

“Do you need my ability?” Gavin asked, hand raised.

“I’m not hurt,” I said. “Micah?”

“I’m… good?” he said, surprise in his voice. “I’m sorry I missed it at first, Mom. That thing was really… I got really…”

I crushed him with a hug. “You did great. I couldn’t believe how brave you were. I am so proud of you. Do you think you can go back out with me in a minute?”

“I… I guess so. I really don’t want to.”

“I know,” I said, trying to keep my face confident. He was such a good kid. They all were. “I don’t want you to, either. But we have to get strong so we can keep each other safe, okay?”

Micah nodded. I couldn’t see his face in the shadow of his helmet.

I bumped his shoulder. “Hey, speaking of getting stronger, did you get any points?”

I truly wanted to know, but it was also an excellent distraction. Micah’s voice turned perkier, much more like his usual self. “I did! I have six points!”

“Nice! Any money?”

“No. I did get something called a Snare Blueprint. What’s a blueprint? Is that like… art or something?”

“A blueprint usually tells you how to build something... Can you get the system to show it to you?”

Micah frowned. “It says it takes 4 money to build. I can’t see what it looks like.”

I checked my interface. I had gotten six points as well as one money, bringing me up to 30 points and three money. Three money. Damn it, it sounded so stupid. It wasn’t enough to build this snare, if that was even what we wanted to do. The important thing we’d learned from this experiment was that the squirt guns were highly effective. It seemed like the amount of points and money per leafenrat was the same, and it had just been spread out between both of us. So - assuming we’d just gotten lucky with the blueprint, there probably weren’t rewards for fighting as a group.

Or were there?

“Interface! Form party! Invite Micah Moretti!” I turned and looked hopefully at my oldest child. “Did you get anything?”

He scanned his interface. “Nope.”

“Form group” and “create guild” were similarly ignored by our alien overlords. Damn. Worth a try. I made sure all the kid’s squirt guns were ready to go as I gave them some final reminders.

“That’s enough yelling at the sky for now. It’s time to head out. Remember the rules we talked about: stay together, keep your backs toward the house or your family. Micah, you’re in charge of looking behind us. Gavin and Cassie, you check our sides and front. Yell if you see anything. Try not to walk under trees or too close to bushes - anyplace the leafenrats could hide. I’ll go out first. Wait until I tap on the door, then follow me out.”

Once again, I stepped outside. Nothing rushed me immediately, but I looked around the porch carefully, making sure nothing was hiding behind the toy bin or the barbecue grill. I took a few steps out into the open side of the backyard until I could see the roof. Everything looked clear.

I returned to the door and bumped it with the butt of my spear as I faced outward, watching for threats. I heard it open behind me. Cassie was whining about not wanting to go, but Micah and Gavin managed to shepherd her out. We stood there for a good minute, waiting, but our backyard was still. I could hear birdlike leafenrat calls faintly, but they were all far distant.

I picked up an egg-sized rock from a pile one of the kids had been making and chucked it as hard as I could into the branches of the oak tree. I shook a few leaves, but nothing else happened.

We edged along the back of the house.

We weren’t stealthy. Cassie kept repeating “I am very scared. Oh no. Oh no. I am very scared.” Micah kept yelling at Gavin and Cassie to put their backs to the wall. I kept reminding all of them to keep an eye out for enemies. Needless to say, that was more of a “build good habits” instruction, rather than actually trusting the kids to keep an adequate eye out. I was doing a 360° visual scan almost every step.

We were almost at the side gate when I saw the neighbor’s fence shake.

“Watch out!” I yelled. Two clawed feet appeared at the top of the fence as I spoke. A leafenrat teetered unsteadily as it levered its body up, then launched towards us without hesitation.

Its jump was almost horizontal. It’s leafy “fur” spread to catch the air, and it became clear that the animal’s skin had loose flaps like a flying squirrel. One stream of water shot towards it, but missed.

“Everyone, shoot it!”

I swung my spear in a downward stroke, trying to interrupt its flight. I actually hit it! Sadly, I’d misjudged things, hitting the animal with the haft rather than the blade. The impact was intense and I felt my wrists flex disconcertingly as the animal’s momentum opposed the force of my swing. I won the struggle, to an extent. I didn’t get a face full of claws, and the leafenrat didn’t fly past me onto the kids. I didn’t send it flying, however, and it didn’t seem disoriented by the fall, immediately leaping forward as it hit the ground.

It had darted to the side, fixated on something - someone - behind me. Activating my ability as I spun to follow its movement wasn’t truly a conscious thought. More like a need: focus on me, you evil little bastard!

It worked, as the leafenrat instantly began to twist its torso toward me, adding further weight to my theory that the dark spots on the shoulders were eyes. It didn’t cancel the monster’s inertia, however, and it crashed into Cassie, who was cowering with her back toward the monster and hands over her head. She was knocked to the ground and the animal stepped on her as it finished turning to face me.

A splash of water hit it, and then the area became really noisy. Cassie’s frightened moans turned into full-fledged screams, and the leafenrat added to the noise. I lunged toward it, stabbing relentlessly until it puffed into smoke.

I barely paused to glance around.

“Inside!” I yelled to the kids. “Cassie is hurt!”