Roy turned off the radio after listening through the transmissions a second time. The mechanical voice sounding through the speakers had a calming effect on him, it dispelled some of the unease that had been accumulating on him, sticking to every inch of his body like the layer of dried mud.

He tucked the radio away in his backpack and stood up. He would check for new alerts every morning from now on. There was an urge to just leave the radio on, what if he missed something time sensitive, what if he missed the arrival of aid. The through that help would come but he would be left behind sent shivers through his body.

He was tempted, but it just wasn’t feasible. He didn’t have enough batteries to keep the radio running for long, and the noise was bound to attract any prowling beasts. Fear, anticipation, and relief swirled around his mind as the conviction that some fragment of the government was out there stood affirmed.

Roy took a sip of water to wash down the dryness in his throat and cool down his thoughts which were running laps around him. It wouldn’t do to rejoice too early, the message didn’t mention any coming aid, nor did it really clarify the situation. There was only the mention of a safe shelter at Davenport.

Davenport was close to a hundred kilometers from Anamosa. That was a relatively short drive by car, but a daunting distance to cover by foot, especially with how things looked in Anamosa. Perhaps it would be best to take shelter at present. The road ahead was set out for him, both by necessity and by the radio transmission. It was simple, it was straightforward, and as long as he was careful things would be mild.

Roy gathered up his thoughts and outlined his plan of action, making sure to jot it down in his notebook. First, he would look for a map in the library, and then he would look in the storerooms and backrooms for more batteries and other necessities. Finally he would continue to Main Street and hopefully there would be some gathering there. Looking at the three lines of words his tasks seemed almost trivial, and his goal within reach. He would cross out the tasks line by line until there was nothing left.

It only took Roy moments to locate where the maps were placed. There was a huge state map pinned to the wall, accompanied by several other books on a shelf nearby that covered the state in detail or the rest of the USA. Maps weren’t a rare commodity, and Roy wasn’t enthused with the idea of carrying several books in a bag already growing in weight.

So he settled for picking out a small but comprehensive book of road maps that covered all of Iowa. Satisfied, Roy placed the book into his bag and crossed off the first item in his agenda. Already a third complete, Roy congratulated himself and he put everything away and approached his next task with a dash more vigor.

The doors near the back were slightly ajar, taking the enthusiasm out of Roy’s steps. Had the mushrooms been hiding back there, swarming out only when they detected his steps in the empty halls of the library? That would leave those rooms now empty, a fact reaffirmed by the lack of response to all the ruckus he had been causing.

Roy was always holding onto his pitchfork nowadays, so he grasped it tighter as he used the tip to push open the door. The inside of the room was lit by several windows that wound around the building, making it brighter than the recesses of the shelves which were located away from the windows. Though it was only bright compared to the dimness of the hall, the sunlight was still as feeble as it had been over the last few days.

Roy gasped and took a step back as he surveyed the ground. There, half submerged in water, was a field of corpses. The skin of the corpses was beginning to appear turquoise, crawling with an abundance of alien vegetation. It reminded him of the marsh walkers he had fought in the school, except these people were wearing T-shirts and jeans, and near the head of each body lay a shriveled up bundle of fiber.

If he looked closely from where he stood just outside the room, the bundles somewhat resembled the orchid caps he had fought, there was even a slight purple tint to the wider portion of the bundle and a small tuft at the other end. He stared intently, wracking his brain to comprehend the gruesome landscape before him. It was all uncharted, nothing like what he had been taught.

There was a dried husk near the head of every corpse, and the corpses were beginning to resemble the marsh walkers, especially their skin with the creeping spread of fungus. Roy put the pieces together and mixed in a good amount of speculation fueled by his hours in front of the computer. The mushrooms were parting with something, injecting it into the people and slowly turning them into marsh walkers.

It seemed like a good guess and Roy stuck with it. Then a thought creeped into his mind, it was like a spider slipping between the cracks, had the victims died first, or had they been injected first. Which lead to the other? Roy didn’t want to find out first hand.

There were easily twenty corpses in the room, which meant there would be twenty more marsh walkers out to get any unsuspecting victim. However, right now they lay dormant, unfinished, and incomplete. He could destroy them in one swoop right now as the vile seed was budding, and it would cost next to nothing. In the school a shot to the head would down a marsh walker, he was less sure with the pitchfork, but two strikes would probably be sufficient since his weapon damage was modified by his strength.

Could it be done, he would have to find out. Hesitantly Roy walked over to the first body and began his ghastly task. The prongs slid into the head with a slush, with it a liquid like blood began to spread in the water. It was saturated and light, unlike the blood he, or anyone else he had seen, shed. He repeated the action again, watching as the holes opened up on the discolored pate of the corpse.

Roy continued, over and over, biting back the instinct to leave this mass grave, but he was committed. He was doing well, he was doing good. He needed several brakes in between to recuperate, both mentally and physically. It was like his insides were turning to mush and about to pour out his mouth at any moment. But he continued and soon every corpse had a few neat holes on its head. He double checked to make sure.

Roy left the room after one last glance. He closed the door and pulled out a marker. Carefully, "Rest in Peace," was written on the door, followed by the date. There was no way for Roy the bury to bodies so here they would rest, hopefully for eternity. It was a mass grave; the victims would stay unidentified, probably forever. Roy’s mind turned towards gloomier alleys as he considered that. Who would know, who would keep track.

It felt like his soul had been sucked dry; it was different kind of pain compared to his fight with the hastaos or the frog monster. That was a visceral pain, like electricity was coursing through his nerves and the world was shaking around him. His mind ran a thousand paces every moment as he struggled and the adrenaline pumped unceasingly. There was no time to think, only time to do.

This pain was different. It was inside, it was like he was breaking apart at a fundamental level, and those thoughts that made up him were being subject to a slow torture. He had all too much time to think, too much time for the terror to creep in. It was like the mist was seeping into his pores, that new profound aspect which had so overwhelmed everything that had grounded him.

The task had been too exhausting, he was staring too deep and surveying to wide. The scope was overwhelming him again, so he reigned in his thoughts and thought about nothing at all. He was only beginning to reign in his emotions when a blue screen appeared.

Skill Up!

Mental Fortitude LV 0 > LV 2 (Novice)

Ability Up!

Sneak Attack LV 0 > LV 3 (Novice)

Ability Up!

Defile LV 0 > LV 1 (Novice)

Creeping Beryl Blooms have Spread!

Trait Changes:

-1 CON

+0.005/s HP Regeneration

He had gained skills and abilities; he had gained skills and abilities for stabbing corpses and, if he read the ability name correctly through his tears, for defiling the dead. Roy took a deep breath and ignored the screens; he wasn’t in the mood to navigate the cold and uncaring system.

Roy pulled out a few slices of bread from his back pack and ate slowly, considerately, stretching each bite out and chewing at the lump of baked flour until it had become a goop. He focused on the constant motion of his jaws, concentrated on it at the exclusion of everything else. Then the bread was gone and he had to face his circumstances.

The system was a machine; it tallied up kills and turned deaths into a statistic. Just like strength and constitution and his skill levels. But he needed the system, like a soldier needed a gun, or a cancer patient needed chemo. So he turned his attention back to the new screens and brought out the in depth descriptions of his new skills and abilities.

Mental Fortitude - Novice II

Increases Mental Resistance based on skill level.

Sneak Attack - Novice III

The user attacks an unalerted target with exceptional precision, increasing DEX and dealing additional gross damage. The increase in DEX is based of skill level and base DEX. The amount of additional damage is based on skill level and DEX.

Tires the user. Tiring effect decreases with CON and skill level.

Defile - Novice I

The user offers up an inanimate corpse to the hallow Powers, the offering turns to dust.

25 MP

Small gains and bog standard abilities. The skill’s effect was not important at the moment, and the second ability turned him into a human cremator. He let out a sardonic laugh as that thought crossed his mind. He had been unable to bury Madelyn’s mom, and the scattering of bodies he had just dealt with. Now he could perform cremation wherever he went, perhaps the system did listen.

The first ability sounded useful, just like his other ability. They were all useful, efficient, and utilitarian. This one didn’t even inflict penalties, so Roy would use it whenever possible. He had used Reckless Strike against the Hastaos, it was mainly an impulse driven decision. He couldn’t be sure whether or not a normal strike would kill so he activated the ability through a mental command and then stabbed with all his might.

If he ran into trouble again would his abilities activate when he needed them to? Roy stood up and held the pitchfork in his hands; he would try to activate the abilities again. He needed a tighter grasp on them lest he be blunder into a situation only to find his abilities unusable.

Roy picked a fairly empty spot in the library and then thought of using Reckless Strike, the instant he willed it a surge of strength entered his body along with a strange sense of dizziness. He held his posture, feeling power beat inside him like battle drums, every strike seemed to shake the ground beneath him and unbalance him. Then the feeling waned until it disappeared entirely, replaced by a slight weariness. He hadn’t attacked but the ability had disappeared and he had experienced a tiring effect, he felt like he had been through a light jog.

Willing the ability into being again, Roy stabbed with his pitchfork. As soon as the stroke finished the energy left him, and he felt another wave of tiredness run along his body, compounding the previous backlash. It appeared that the ability accepted no refunds, once activated he would pay the cost, regardless if he actually attacked. He could hold the ability for ten or so seconds, an ample window of opportunity.

Why could the ability not be held indefinitely, especially since the cost came at the end, and thus a fighter couldn’t pay the cost hours before the battle and hold onto the ability. Roy activated Reckless Strike again, this time he began to walk around, now he realized the reason he only had a ten second window. He began to run feet shooting into the water like pistons, easily pulling free of the surface. Not only were his strikes stronger, he was stronger. Then the ability wore off and the water regained that obnoxious pull, slowing every rise of his feet, more so now that he really was tired after three uses of the ability.

Ability Change!

Reckless Strike Novice I

V

Reckless Strength Novice II

Due to his testing the ability had changed, was this suppose to happen, or had it been specifically created because of what he had done. There was no way to tell since there was noone to compare notes with. Roy examined the new ability.

Reckless Strength Novice II

The user brings forth all their might, increasing STR for a short period of time. The surge of power unbalances the user, decreasing AGI and DEX. THe magnitude of the increase and decrease is based on skill level. The duration of the ability is based on BASE CON and skill level

Tires the user base on the magnitude of the increase in STR. Tiring effect decreases with CON and skill level.

The only difference seemed to be the addition of a time variable, which was based off his constitution. Roy felt confident guessing that now the ability would no longer end after he attacked, it would continue for whatever duration his CON and skill level allowed. The small change didn't matter much to Roy, much more exciting was the prospect of running around like superman, he had never been strong or espeacially fit, now he could be and for daily effort. Then again he had almost lost his life before acquiring this ability, it was either many small installments, or one big payment.

Roy sat down and caught his breath; he would rest for a bit and then try his second ability. It was already late in the afternoon so Roy needed to decide where he wanted to stay for the night. The library was the most convenient, but it was also right next to the presumably nocturnal Hastaos, and quite open. It was simply too risky to stay.

If he decided to head anywhere else there was the possibility that he would need to clear the building he decided to stay in. The advantage was that he would get to decided what he fought, as opposed to the possibility of having to stand up against the horde of Hastaoses right outside the window. There was the car dealership across the street, and the general store on the intersection of Main Street and Scott Street. Hee had quite a few options; there was a gas station and community center around the intersection, a further hundred meters west on Main Street there would be the grocery store.

It would take no more than an hour to check out all of those locations, and then he could pick and choose where he would stay for the night. Those locations would have a nice stock of food and water, there was even the possibility that others had holed up there. Quite a few conditions would be superior to sleeping beside a mass grave and a horde of man eating gators.