The days after escaping from the cult leader had passed by quickly for Rob. Losing his truck and all the equipment in it was difficult to stomach, but the thought of going back to try and retrieve it was worse. Instead, Rob simply gritted his teeth and pushed forwards. The silver lining to the nightmare he had endured were the Skills and Skill Levels he had earned.

Congratulations! You have learned Pain Resistance Lvl 1!

Congratulations! You have learned Stealth Lvl 1!

Congratulations! You have learned Sixth Sense Lvl 1!

Of the three, Sixth Sense was the one he was most interested in.

Sixth Sense: Gives you additional information about your surroundings.

It wasn’t the most helpful skill description he had read, but the name of the skill itself told Rob all he really needed to know. ‘Having a sixth sense about things’ was a common enough phrase that Rob had heard it before, and the cultural meaning to it was the true goldmine of meaning. A sixth sense was a source of information that was otherwise unattainable, previously Rob would have put the usage down to people attributing luck or intuition to it, but the System had thrown out those logical limitations. Already Rob could feel the skill slowly feeding him passive information about the world around him, letting him weave around hidden burrows or place his feet to find solid footholds on uneven ground. While Rob was keeping his distance from his fellow humans for the moment, he was looking forward to seeing how the additional information provided would come in handy. Already it had warned him to avoid a rattlesnake guarding her eggs so there was some precedent for working with beings.

The skill wasn’t perfect. The range of information provided was only twenty feet or so, meaning longer distances didn’t benefit from the additional insight. His new ability to find the best path forward was handy for getting around trees and over rocks, not for finding the best place to cross a river that has a quiet spot a mile upstream. Hopefully the range would grow as he levelled up the skill, but Rob could think of half a dozen other ways that the skill might improve instead.

Rob knew part of his interest in Sixth Sense was as a distraction from the horrors he had experienced. He had escaped, but that didn’t change the fact that he was captured, tortured, and promised death by a psychotic madman. Until now Rob had been pretty happy to believe in the innate goodness of people. Sure, they might have some bad days, or areas that they weren’t great at communicating with, but he had been under the impression that everyone would do the right thing if they could.

The cult leader had been Rob’s first experience with someone he couldn’t empathise with or try to understand where they were coming from. Rob wasn’t able to make any excuses or justifications for his actions. He had chosen a path of evil and torture for no better reason than power. Not power to protect, not power to right the wrongs of the world around him, but the power to destroy, dominate and rule.

Rob shuddered. The arrival of the system had changed so much, but he had always had hope that things would settle down. Everything would be different, but he believed that humanity would continue to advance, that they would learn what they could of this new world and do their best to make it a better place for everyone Now, he wasn’t so sure. The cult might be happy to stay in one place for now, but Rob could picture a time where they would go on the move, killing and destroying other settlements of survivors for the simple reason that they weren’t part of the cult.

It was that conviction that guided Rob’s actions over the next two days. Despite his reluctance to interact with other people, despite his newly skittish nature, he forced himself to get close enough to anyone he came across to spread the warning. Some believed him right away, most were convinced when he pulled off his shirt to show them his new set of scars, but a few seemed to simply brush him off, not paying him any attention as he tried to pass on a level of caution that might save their lives.

Two days of spreading the word left Rob feeling exhausted, but also far enough away that anyone living here would probably have some warning from their neighbors if anything happened. As such Rob picked up the pace, forcing his body to the limit as he headed south. Empty houses still gave him food and water to eat, but Rob began to truly push the capabilities that increased stats gave him. He could go longer without food and water, even as the terrain became hotter and more treacherous. It increased his rate of stamina expenditure, but he had plenty to spare at this point and he practically flew across the rocks and sand and crossed into Arizona.

The lack of people around was a blessing for Rob’s state of mind. As he could finally let go of that small remaining ball of tension that he had been carrying around. With so much of the infrastructure missing, the few inhabitants of this area had either perished or struck out for better places to live in.

It was the exception that proves the rule though, and Rob’s heart began to beat wildly when he heard the sharp crack of a gun firing as he approached what he thought was an abandoned house. Sixth Sense gave him the peace of mind needed to stand still as an old man opened the front door and made his way within talking distance of Rob. Rob tensed up as the man approached, but kept himself from sprinting away when he noticed that the handgun was deliberately not pointed directly at him. IN his direction, sure, and he had no doubt it could be brought to bear quickly, but the lack of direct threat gave Rob hope to resolve this situation without having to dodge bullets on his way out.

“What are you doing here?” The man demanded, gesturing slightly with his gun for emphasis.

“Heading south, trying to get home. I travel light and was hoping to find some food and water if this place was abandoned.” Rob did his best to remain calm and help de escalate the situation.

“Well it ain’t, so you can just keep running. I’m not about to have a spic go stealing my things.” The casual racism hurt, but it was better than a bullet. Rob began slowly backing away southward before the man spoke up again.

"There’s a small town about twenty miles south of here and a little bit west. Doubt anyone is living there, but I don’t give a damn about a bunch of fuckers with no respect for a veteran.” The discussion was clearly over at this point, so Rob sketched a quick bow in thanks before picking up speed.

The town had been dying even before the System arrived, with most of the residents having moved away in search of better opportunities. Those remaining had weather ended up on a different world, headed elsewhere, or in one tragic case, died without access to the modern medicine they needed to live. Rob closed the grandmother’s eyes and covered her body with a sheet before scavenging what he could from her house and the other buildings left standing. With a full backpack, Rob prepared for the final stretch of his journey home.

Crossing the desert and border had been less difficult than he was expecting. Superhuman constitution allowed him to easily endure the heat, while his Sure Footing skill and Sixth sense let him maintain a high rate of travel across bad terrain. There was no Border Patrol to try and catch him, and this far out in the wild the only thing separating the two countries was the staggered remains of a chain link fence. Rob walked right through a gap before angling his path slightly towards the west. He wasn’t likely to end up on the peninsula, but his hometown was on the coast and he was looking forward to seeing it again.

As the area around him became more and more familiar Rob picked up speed, pacing his distance eating steps to the chant of his family's names running through his mind. “Raquel, Maria, Elena. Raquel, Maria, Elena. Raquel..”

He barely noticed as he dashed through his hometown. He had caught sight of his house, looking much as it ever did just off the beach and covered in sunflower yellow paint. That had been the only birthday gift then four year old Maria had wanted, and he treasured the memories of her helping him paint the place.

It took a single step for him to clear the steps onto the porch and another had him at the door, opening it up to head inside, where he stopped in confusion.

“Tia Rosa, what are you doing here?”

There was a long moment of silence, as the woman he fondly referred to as Auntie grabbed her glasses and put them on, before looking him over carefully.

“Oh Roberto, I’m so sorry.”