All but one of her companions are suddenly paralyzed, corpse-like, precariously close to the broken edge of the bridge. The Scum-Squid bursts out of the river once more and breaks apart in mid-air. It has become three Scums, their bodies transforming, re-configuring into individuals with legs and heads and torsos in the time it takes to land.

Suddenly Ava and Ostby are outnumbered. The Squid has separated into a killing squad. In the center stands an animated vat of poison with a firehouse mouth. And on either side loom what must have been the jaws. These two Scums are covered in undulating shark-teeth like sentient chainsaws. They look eager to carve Bach and Uri and Ellie up as early as next round.

In no time at all Ava has gone from relief to terror. They defeated the tentacles. Had time to take a single breath. And then the enemy countered with completely different tactics.

They entered a new phase, she thinks, like some kind of boss fight.

And there she goes again. Rationalizing ultra-violence with a wave of her virtual wand. Inventing a narrative where it's okay to kill strangers simply because they are obviously monsters.

Just stop, she tells herself. Stop analyzing it. Just be grateful you can get the job done.

She peers down the sites, inhales, and squeezes the trigger. Her [Aimed Shot] hits the Scum-Jaw on the left but unlike earlier against the tentacles this time there is no crit. In this form the Scums' Hardiness has increased to four – putting it just out of her critical range. Her attack inflicts a Moderate Injury and four wounds.

She fires a second shot and causes a second Moderate Injury but the Scum does not die.

And now she is down to her final bullet.

Ostby sends an arrow whistling at her target and the missile strikes it in the gut with impossible force, blasting it back off the bridge. It splashes into the river, dead. Evidently Ostby's attacks can and will still crit.

He fires twice more at the remaining Scum-Jaw and the first arrow sinks into its chest—another Severe Injury crit—but the second shot misses and the enemy survives. Ostby is a supremely talented archer, but it seems the random element can confound anyone.

The shark-toothed chain-saw Scum moves to butcher its nearest enemy – Bach. It presses the wicked appendage which passes for its arm against Bach's belly and in the next moment it's carving into him.

He's being mutilated again, ripped apart and chewed up—suffering a Severe Injury—but Bach doesn't scream nor even squirm in the slightest. The paralyzing acid is that effective.

With a single action point left in reserve the blood-soaked Scum-Jaw activates [Vigilance] and waits.

The animated poison-vat acts next and spews another nasty acid attack. Ostby dives out of the way but Ava can't react fast enough. The ooze smacks against and envelops her and in the next moment she goes slack and collapses. Now she's forced to watch, unable to turn her face away from the butcher and Bach's gruesome injury.

Ostby is their only chance now. He lets fly an arrow which crits and kills the Scum-Jaw. It collapses on top of Bach, adding one final insult to his injuries.

And Ostby unleashes two more arrows to complete his turn—both targeting the Spitter—and both landing for crits. The weird Scum falls to the bridge, oozing paralyzing acid from the arrow-holes in its torso.

Encounter Defeated!

Experience: 1600

Ava just lays there. She can't do anything else, after all. She's still paralyzed for three more rounds – because that's a thing that happens to people in this world. They get paralyzed by acid. They get butchered by bizarre monsters.

And in the end these traumatic events are exchanged for experience points, a currency which is used to upgrade their capabilities. The heroes of this world commodify their suffering to become better at doing violence.

Suddenly it isn't simply: whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

It's more like: whatever you can kill....

The thing about intestines is that they should really never be visible. But Bach's are. He's leaking guts and extra-sticky viscera right onto the planks of the bridge. And there's no moving him to a safer spot – not without leaving some of his insides behind.

He's not dead but he has to be close. Leveling up at the end of the combat might have saved him – Ava can't be sure. She's just grateful that this game doesn't include some mechanism forcing him to stay awake. He's pale and bleeding-out but at least he can be unconscious.

Ostby kneels, careful not to accidentally come in contact with any of the paralyzing ooze still puddled all around.

“He's in shock.” He lifts Bach's wrist, feeling for a heartbeat. “Pulse is very weak and rapid. He's not going to make it unless we can do something and fast.”

Uri stirs. The paralytic effects are finally wearing off. He climbs to his feet and goes to Bach's side. There's no rush, he's almost nonchalant. Ellie crawls over, too, expecting Uri will need her help.

“Don't worry.” He gestures for her to relax. “I've got this one.”

How is he so calm? Ava wonders, did he gain some new power as a result of leveling?

Maybe a class ability like the incredible skills she's seen Ostby employ?

Ellie is Level One all of a sudden, too. What does that mean, exactly? Is she officially a Psionicist now? Does even Ellie suddenly possess class abilities which make Ava's skills pale by comparison?

And just what the hell is Bach? He's Level Two – but at what, exactly?

Get your head together.

It's shameful. Bach is mortally wounded. His guts are flopping out. And here she is, still paralyzed for another round, but concerned primarily with classes and abilities.

And more than a little jealous:

How the hell do I get a class?

Do I need to find a trainer or something?

The only place she'd know to look for a trainer would be Cripple Creek – and it's been devastated.

She concentrates on her progression so far and receives a brief history of her leveling benefits:

She's missing out. She's inadequate without a class; without those overpowered abilities like [Higher Ground] and [Dominate Animal]. The empty feeling, this gnawing need – this could become an obsession.

And while she stresses over it, Uri adds to her angst:

Uri's new ability is so good it makes her a little bit mad. He closes his eyes briefly and hums while waving his hand over Bach's inside-out innards. And even without Ellie's help he's able to perform the [Mend Lethal Injury] power. Ava watches while Bach's guts crawl back inside his abdominal cavity like a knot of snakes. The gouge seals up and he's good-as-new.

Uri kneels and helps him sit upright in a puddle of paralytic poison which has only just gone inert. Bach looks down at his thrashed poncho, stunned. He kneads his own belly with his lone hand and sighs in relief.

“You saved me from the Big One.”

“And you put yourself in danger to protect us.” Ellie crawls through the goo to be beside Bach and squeezes him around the shoulders. “I won't fuckin' forget it.”

Uri and Ostby help Bach to his feet and Ava is still lost in her own head:

He keeps putting himself in danger. She wonders, is that his thing? Is that his class?

And if so, what kind of skills does a punching bag get?

Before continuing on they wash their clothes in the river. The gunk and the guts and the blood just run away with the rest of the water.

Ava and Bach and Ellie take turns plundering their one box of bullets to reload their pistols. They can each do so maybe one more time before the ammo is depleted.

“Markus will have bullets,” says Ostby of his comrade, “likely some bigger guns, too.”

But his horse is dead. They talk it over and no one can come up with a better solution than having him jog alongside the others. But that would mean stopping more often for him to recover and catch his breath. And any delay increases the chance the Slaps will be sold out to slavers before they can be rescued.

“I've got it,” Ava realizes, “I can build us a wagon.”

“No way,” Ostby says, “we don't have time.”

“Oh I bet we do.”

Bach grins.

Ava empties one of Bach's improvised explosives and collects the rusty nails from inside. She studies one up-close until the ItemID becomes visible and then she snaps her fingers and a pile of nails appears in the dirt beside her. Ostby gasps.

She just shrugs and smiles. Then she closes her eyes and recalls the ItemID for [Medium Logs] and she gestures like a magician revealing her sawed-in-half assistant and a dozen perfectly milled logs materialize from nothing.

The others crowd around and watch. And it feels good. She has some powers they don't, for once. But she needs something to hammer with and she's never looked close enough at a hammer to know its number. She considers using the butt of her revolver, but it's too valuable. So she opts for the hilt of [The Omega Key], instead – repurposing the sharpest item she possesses as a blunt tool.

And in a matter of minutes she has constructed a [Crude Wagon].

Ostby hooks up the horses and the party proceeds as passengers.

“First-class ride,” says Ellie.

It's a clear day on the prairie with the sun directly overhead in an unblemished blue sky when they see the smoke. Ava squints. Is it smoke? Maybe it's a dust storm?

“Looks like a big fire,” says Ellie.

“More like Big Traffick.” Bach scans the horizon with his stolen binoculars. “They may have already seen us.”

Ostby steers the wagon into a shallow gully and the party disembarks. They lay flat on their stomachs to peer across the plains at the towering cloud of dust stirred up by the endless slave caravan.

“You think the Slaps are somewhere in that mess?” Ava asks.

“Yes,” Ostby growls. He can claim his heart was already hardened long ago when he lost his wife, but Ava senses his rage and clearer still she can see it in his eyes.

“We can't fight them,” warns Ellie, “not like this – five against five thousand. Just sayin' it out loud, you know – before any of you get any smart fuckin' ideas.”

“No, we can't fight them.” Bach stows his binoculars. “But they're onto us alright.”

Out across the dry prairie two smaller plumes of smoke are rising and coming nearer. It's dust and exhaust from a pair of motorcycles, riding out from the rest of Big Traffick to investigate.

“What do we do?” Ava looks around but there's no place to hide. The Arkansas led them out onto the prairie and now it's all wide-open spaces. This gully was their best bet but the riders are headed right for them.

“Quickly, everyone.” Uri takes Ellie's hand. “Form a circle.”

Staying low they crawl like lizards to join hands. Uri begins to chant and Ellie's eyes widen with surprise when she starts in, too. And in the next moment the [Chameleon] power activates and they all become part of the grassy gully.

When the Body-Snatchers ride in they find only the crude wagon and the horses – sadly too large to be included in the illusion. The first to arrive boots his kickstand out and dismounts to investigate. The second stays on his bike and barks into a walkie-talkie:

“Yeah, there's a couple horses tied to a shitty wagon. That's it. No sign of the driver.”

“There were five of them,” the walkie-talkie belches back.

The other scoundrel unties the horses and shouts, “well they ain't here now.”

“They ain't here now,” repeats his accomplice.

“Well look around a little more. They couldn't have just vanished.”

“'Well look around a little more',” the horse-thief mocks and his partner clutches the walkie-talkie close to his chest so their boss won't overhear.

He says, “would you shut the fuck up and see what else there is to steal?”

“Already looked. Ain't nothin'. And they ain't here. Neither.”

“Alright then.” He cups the walkie-talkie and says, “ain't no way they're out here. We can see all over. No tracks but the ones running up to this spot. We're outta luck this time – they're hid good.”

“Fuck 'em then,” says the Boss on the other end. “Get back in line.”