“So, you’re the hotshot the boss is waiting for?” One of them asked. He was a short, overweight man, with pale skin, as if he hadn’t been out in the sun for a year. He’d tied a red-and-black bandana over his head, which was tied back to hold the dark hair spilling out the back of his head. On his neck was a tattoo of a star with the word “lifetime” above it.

“Just an informant,” I said. “I’m here to speak with Dominic.”

“I heard you killed a hundred zombies outside the barrier,” a second said. He was much taller, with a lean strength to his build. His nearly black skin was a stark contrast to the first speaker, though his demeanor seemed to indicate he was the junior of the two. His black shirt had torn in multiple places, revealing a muscular physique. Despite his dark skin, I could make out a number of tattoos up both arms. The one I could see clearly from my angle was on the inside of his forearm, the numbers 276 up his arm. It made me wonder what would happen if the man absorbed some mana. Would the tattoos disappear? Would they be treated by the mana as some kind of scar or mark on the skin?

“Not quite a hundred,” I said. “But we definitely hit that number together.” I gestured at the tiger, who still stood by my side in the street.

“Yeah, we heard about your pet as well,” the first one sneered as he looked at the tiger. “I dunno. I thought a tiger would be bigger.” I didn’t say anything, just shrugged. “So, here’s the deal,” he continued. “We go out every day and have to fight with those zombies, but we’re running out of bullets, see? Then you come in and kill a whole bunch of them without even firing a single bullet, from what I hear.”

He paused in his ramble to see my reaction. I shrugged.

“So, why don’t you hand over the sword? We could use a piece like that to take on the zombies.”

“My sword?” I asked. I frowned in annoyance. This was definitely not the direction I thought the conversation would go

“Yeah, give us the fuckin’ sword,” the second one said.

“Alright,” I said, again shrugging. I looked around the street. A number of people were waiting and watching, their eyes fearful.

I drew the sword from the sheath on my back, causing the others to take steps back, their hands bringing up the guns they already held. There was not a single mana core in sight around me. Not one of them had absorbed any mana since this hell began.

“You can have the sword,” I said. “Here you go.” So saying, I brought the weapon down, point-first, into the ground, the weapon cutting through the concrete and into the dirt underneath it, until the cross guard rested firmly on the cement around the new crack in the pavement.

I took several steps away from them, and they lowered their own weapons, since I was clearly no longer a threat. Turning, I stalked back up the steps of the house and through the front door. I could see the mana of people moving on the second floor of the house as a few people stepped back from the window above. I sighed and mounted the steps, which creaked ominously under my weight and the weight of the tiger trailing me. As I approached the door at the top, I couldn’t hear anything on the other side of the door. With my mana sight, I could see the shapes of several people taking seats quickly. I pushed the door open.

Dominic and Yuri were both in the room, along with some other faces I recognized. It’s tough to forget a face that was pointing a gun at you.

“Good afternoon,” I said, crossing to the window. The glass was missing of course, allowing me to lean out and see the group of people gathering around on the pavement and sidewalk. I saw the big black guy crouched over my sword, trying to pull it from the pavement. I smiled as I turned to the rest of the men in the room.

“Dominic,” I said, turning back to him. He sat in a La-Z-Boy chair, his weight kicked back and legs up. Next to him, a half-smoked cigar sat in an ash tray next to a Glock 19 and an opened bottle of Jack Daniels. His staff leaned against the wall next to him.

“You gonna tell me your name this time?”

“Ward.”

“That’s it?” He asked. “Just Ward?”

“And you are just Dominic?” I asked.

His eyes narrowed for the barest moment, but the smile returned quickly enough. “What’s in a name?” He asked.

“Shakespeare,” I mused aloud. “But if names are not correct, language will not align with the truth of things.”

“I’m not familiar with that one.”

“Confucius,” I said. “Let’s stop fencing with words. I’ll ask you some questions, and I will be straight with you. If you aren’t straight with me, then I’m out of here.”

“I will be honest with you as well.”

“Excellent. First, a gift. I said I would bring you something, and I believe this will open your eyes.” I swung my backpack down to open it.

“That would be a trick,” he said, and I could hear the wry smile in his voice.

I reached into my backpack and pulled free the mana core.

“I came here to give you this.” I tossed him the core. It was not large, and the energy not terribly concentrated in the core. He caught it in one hand, where the core immediately turned into dust.

“What the…” he trailed off as he looked up at me in wonder. I saw the small amount of energy enter his system and formed a core. When the energy had settled into his chest, it spun out from the meager core, passing up to his eyes and down to his right leg.

“Welcome to the new world,” I said, and I left the room.

When the tiger and I stepped into the street, everyone who’d been gathered around the buried sword stepped back from us.

“What the fuck, man?” The first thug said to me. “Now nobody can use the sword.”

“You ever watch those old Marvel movies?” I asked.

“Shit, I used to love those!” one of his henchmen said.

“Then you will understand this reference,” I said, looking him square in the eye. “You aren’t worthy.” I bent, gripped the sword at the hilt and lifted it free of the ground.

“Damn,” he whispered.

“You think you’re better than us, redwood motherfucker?” The black man got in my face. As tall as he was, the top of his head was still only at the level of my jaw. That didn’t stop him from raising his hands and pushing them into my chest, even as I slid the sword into the sheath on my back. My left hand, however, came up. I held his wrist, squeezed, and twisted.

“Shit,” he yelled in pain as I directed his weight without difficulty. He went to his knees.

I heard a scuffle behind me, but when I looked, the tiger had one massive paw on the thug leader, while everyone was beating a hasty step back. I turned back to the black man on the ground, who had found the presence of mind to go for his gun. When it cleared the holster, I kicked his hand, sending the weapon clear.

“Listen to me, you piece of shit,” I leaned down toward him, wrenching his arm and causing him to curse more. I used my free hand and dug my finger into his forearm, directly into the 7 of his 276 tattoo. “I know what this is.” I threw him the rest of the way to the ground, then I stalked over to the fat man on the ground. I knelt next to him and tapped my fingers on the star on his neck. “And I know what this is. If I hear you’ve been up to anything like what earned you this tattoo, then I promise that I will come back here.” I gestured to the house where I’d just spoken with Dominic. “I will string you up to that balcony. I will cut your balls off and let you bleed to death.”

“Fuck you,” he said.

“No, you wouldn’t. That’s the whole point of castration.”

He let go a stream of expletives as I headed out of the “town” the way I’d come in.

“Take me with you.”

“It’s not exactly safe out there,” I said to the guard who’d let me in originally.

“I don’t care. You can’t leave me here.” The desperation in his eyes was telling. I looked over my shoulder at the people, the angry glares and terrified stares. People were scared out of their minds, and it had triggered a fight or flight instinct in everyone. Seemed like my current companion had the flight instinct.

“Okay, let’s go. You’ll have to move quickly to keep up with us.”

Together, we hopped the pile of cars, and we were soon lost among the upper-middle class suburban houses. Eventually, we looped back to the interstate, the route I knew my group would be taking to meet up with the town.

“Where are we going?” my newest companion asked.

“Ward,” I said. “My name is Ward.”

“Where are we going, Ward?”

“To meet the rest of my group.”

“There are more of you?” he choked out the words in surprise.

“Yeah, didn’t feel like mentioning it before.”

“Anything else?”

“If you have enough breath to talk, then we can pick up the pace.”

So saying, I increased the stride in my steps, forcing the man to up his speed from the brisk walk to a light jog. It was a pace I could maintain all day. Hell, in my current physical condition, I could probably run all day. I would have to test that out at some point. In very little time, my new companion was wheezing along behind me.

“I need to stop,” he said after we’d gone less than a mile.

“We don’t stop until we find the rest of my group.”

“You don’t know where they are!” he gasped out.

“They’re close. Just a little further.” I continued moving. He would follow. Or not. The steady sound of heaving breaths answered that question for me.

I spotted them, moving at their leisurely pace, weaving their way through stopped cars scattered over the road. I raised my hand, and I saw Carter wave back.

“That’s them,” I said, turning back to my companion. He was bent double, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath in the short moment I’d stopped. His breaths came short and wheezing. “Asthma?” He nodded and continued to catch his breath. “Wait here.” He held up a thumb in acknowledgment.

I moved down the road, and met up with our group, giving them a brief explanation of what happened in the town.

“Because of a couple of tattoos?” Chavez asked.

“They’re not just tattoos. The first one – 276 – is a common tattoo in the Black Guerrilla Family, a gang. That tattoo, in particular, they only give to someone who’s killed at least ten people in a rival gang. The second one – The Bloods – said “lifetime”, which an inmate only gets if they are in prison for a life sentence.”

“So, what do you think is going on?” Carter asked.

“I think that at least some of the people there are people who survived and broke out of a prison,” I said. “That would also explain where they got all the ammunition and guns. What I can’t figure out is why a member of BGF would be teaming up with someone from the Bloods. They don’t exactly get along most of the time.”

“How do you know this?” Bragg asked.

“Several years ago, Ward and I helped with an anti-terrorist operation in Baltimore,” Andy said. “It involved three gangs – BGF, the Bloods, and the Crips, who were supposedly working together to target the killing of police officers.”

“What did you do?”

“It was never made public.” Andy shrugged.

“Let’s just say,” I added, “that the gangs experienced significant turnover, then actually started helping their neighborhoods during the unrest.”

“I thought you would be mainly overseas,” Chavez said.

“Yeah, we were,” I said, “but we helped out stateside occasionally. Especially if we were already in the area. Baltimore wasn’t that far from DC, so we could plan the op right there at the Pentagon.”

“That’s some crazy shit,” Chavez said.

“Not quite zombies and monsters crazy, but yeah,” Andy said. “So, what do you think the play should be?”

“We find a place to spend the night locally,” I said. “It won’t be comfortable, but we could find a big house to all bunk in. Then, we talk to our new friend over there and find out what’s really going on inside the town.”

“And if it’s something we don’t like?” Carter asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. We have a bigger problem on our hands either way.

“What if they are raping the women you saw in there?”

“Then we take out the bad guys,” I said, “but we have to deal with the dungeon first.”

“Why is the dungeon the priority?” she asked.

“Because the dungeon will try to kill everyone,” I said simply. “If we go in and kill the strongest people in that town, then they won’t have a way to protect themselves. No, we take out the existential threat first, then we deal with the internal threat.”

“That also has the added bonus that if they see us take out the zombie threat,” Andy cut in as Carter opened her mouth to argue, “that will heighten our power in their eyes. They haven’t been able to stop the zombies from coming, but if only five of us can, then they will be sure we can do the same to them.”

“Six,” I said. “We’re taking the tiger too.”

“Oh, right,” Andy said. “I forgot about her. Where is she?”

“I think she went hunting. I’m sure she can find us though. Let’s find a place to stop for a few days.”

It didn’t take long to find a house that we could all squeeze into. It had two stories, so we could have someone on the second floor keep a lookout. There were few windows on the ground floor, aside from the shattered windows on the back porch, which we blocked off with a number of couches and extra sheets. After a while, we settled in to listen to our newest companion’s story.