Rule 25

Find a Reason to Live & Protect Family

Statement: This journal isn’t about hiding from the past. It’s about owning up to what happened while serving as a warning to others. It’s about helping you (whoever you are) survive if this happens to you. It’s about explaining pitfalls and trying to share truths.

In a strange way, it’s about keeping secrets too. That woman, the stewardess who sat on my lap, had explained that secrets had to be shared in order to have value. That makes sense to me, just a little, enough to know that writing down what happened is the right thing to do. But why? There’s no one to read it—and no one would take the time.

In the morning, I almost choked on a tooth that had fallen out. I stared at the small dirty molar and wondered if all the physical damage had caught up to me. Carefully I poked around at the back of my mouth and found that none of them were missing.

Instead, a sharper tooth had grown in the old one’s spot. I rubbed it until the razor-edged molar, if it could be called that still, cut through my thumb. The change bothered me.

Then I recalled what happened the night before. That bothered me too. Not so much the actual act, but what we’d spoken of. It was too late to undo the events. I resolved to keep tabs on what had happened. It would distract me from the tightening of my chest.

Admission: I have not ignored it. I wish I could.

I left the repurposed room and ventured through the small woods. People kept about their day. Some smiled. Elves stared at me and twitched their large ears similar to a cat studying an interesting object. I smiled at one, it grinned back.

Mayor Kent stood at a rail at the ranger’s station and stared over the crowd. He shifted his eyes around, scanning them. He sighed multiple times before I managed to cross the field. He’d been upbeat and positive yesterday, but today all that seemed gone.

I assumed it was the lack of coffee. It had certainly thrown off my days. There might be some in one of the houses, if I scrounge enough. Maybe if he gave me a reason to feel welcoming, I could go stumbling around for a gift.

Given my father’s social skill since mom’s passing, it was doubtful. He was a coward. He ran. And not once did the man who raised me show his face, or make a call since the accident.

Dad called Richard. Richard was dead. We had no relationship, and I’d bet all the money on my card that my dad would have preferred if Richard survived the line instead of me.

“Good morning, son,” Mayor Kent said as I approached.

“Morning,” I responded coldly. The prior night’s merriment had been dampened by all this nonsense.

He smiled weakly. “Sleep all right?”

I stepped onto the deck where he’d parked himself. The briar bushes in the distance were more oppressing this morning. Perhaps pessimism had reared its ugly head.

“You know,” Mayor Kent remarked slowly. “Every night I tell myself, over, and over, that everything will be better tomorrow. That maybe I’ll go to sleep and life will be normal again. Then I wake up, and here we are. I have to stand here and stare for… hours. Hours until it sinks in that this is real.”

I understood but said nothing.

“The world is a disaster. This town is a mess. There are monsters around every corner. You’ve only been back a few weeks. The rest of us, most, have been here months. Months of living in this twisted version of our homes. Every week we lose someone.”

He glanced down and shook his head. I glanced to one side while pretending not to notice my dad crying. It was an unwelcome sight.

“Do you understand, son?”

“Yes.”

“But I honestly believe you can change it all.”

I took a deep breath. My own list of problems had been growing rather long, and now Mayor Kent was about to lay another expectation on me. “I gathered that.”

“Always the smart one,” he said with a sad smile. “Anyway. The first couple of weeks were the hardest. People, most, were gone. Some arrived a week later, off one of the buses. Then more, and more. But people died as fast as they returned. By then, their houses had been broken into and valuables stolen. Most neighborhoods were picked over in the first month, at least downtown or near the apartment complexes. You can still find a lot of overlooked stuff, everywhere.”

That made sense. A lot of the homes I’d seen in daylight were in a sad state. Mini-orcs prowled through every nook of a building in search of precious “eats.” Then there had been stockpiles of crap in Coach Madison’s houses. They were probably still sitting there for the stealing, if it became an issue. I brightened slightly upon imagining one of the houses being stocked full of liquor and coffee.

“I managed to work out protection for our home, once I had the power. We were lucky that most of the monsters weren’t—spawning, I guess—until recently.” He banged a hand upon the wooden railing. “It was like those damn bitches waited until everyone was back before cranking up the difficulty.”

His terminology bothered me. It sounded like Coach Madison’s belief that everything was somehow a sports analogy. I’d left the man scarred and angry.

“This isn’t a game.”

“It certainly feels like one. You saw the others. They were given classes, like the old role playing my friends did back in college. Classes, spells, monsters, we get experience orbs and money for kills. Some people’s abilities evolve.” Mayor Kent shrugged then continued, “You’ve seen it, I’m sure. Hype told me he left you a lantern. Nearly everyone who bought something from that weird mall could get something from their first lantern.”

I nodded. He meant that series of stores near the end of the line—or at least I assumed he did. He could have been talking about a real mall. There was a small one near the outskirts of town.

As for Hype, I assumed it was the creature that walked through walls. He’d been the one to leave behind a lantern.

“Like I said, those that picked up items or titles, were able to use the lanterns to get a special power. It’s part of the game those ladies are playing with us.”

That made as much sense as anything else going on. I smiled then changed the subject. “You were about to ask me to do something.”

Mayor Kent nodded. “Allegra tells me you’re strong, and sneaky. I need those traits to complete a task.”

“What task?”

Mayor Kent, or my father as he preferred to be called, huffed. His lips blew air straight up into long uncut hair. The gesture bothered me, but it had been so many months since I’d seen him.

“I need your help taking over this town.”

I twitched then got myself under control. “What?”

“I can go into greater detail later, once you’ve had another day or two to situate yourself.”

“Tell me.”

Dad turned away from the railing and paced for a moment. He touched the building’s side. I stared out at the field. At least four elves watched Mayor Kent like zebras keeping tabs on a lion.

Finally, he said, “I asked Leon to explain how the dungeons work. Did he?”

I nodded. He’d covered a small wall of details during our walk up the street. One of the facts had been that defeating dungeons helped the area quiet down. Monsters would stop spawning everywhere.

“What if I told you there’s a place, at city hall, where a huge ogre resides. He wears a crown, and if we can kill him, take the crown, and sit in his seat, we’ll stop the monsters from spawning for miles around. We’d be safe.”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s a lot to take in.”

The idea was absurd. Dozens of questions came to mind, but I was too busy reeling to even begin.

“That’s why I need you, son. Not just to have family here. But because you were one of the last to come out, the last in this town. You’ve got a power like few others. You were—”

“Designed? Molded?” I figured out why I’d been so irritated at this man posing as my father. He knew entirely too much about what I’d become, more than I did. Midge had, albeit in a different tone, implied the same, that I was a killer.

Mayor Kent let out air and sagged. He said, “Maybe. An oracle told me the last to come out would have the most potential. You’ll have an easier time with the monsters. Leon and Allegra, they both confirmed the same thing. Those who came later, had more powers. Most of the people here are those who arrived first. They’re hardly a match for a goblin or two. And I came away with nothing. I ran through that line without thought. I was too rushed.”

“There were benefits to waiting.”

Mayor Kent nodded and stared across the park. There were no goblins, or whatever, here. I still preferred calling them mini-orcs. They reminded me of creatures from a fantasy movie.

His domain was a brighter version of Coach Madison’s. Instead of the library, park, and rundown trailers, they had a simple landscape broken up by an area with pitched tents on one side, and gardens on the other. Both looked more natural and less shabby than Coach Madison’s nonsense.

Still, the effect was about the same. Places to sleep, places to grow food.

“Okay,” I said. We’d talk more about it later. At the moment, I needed to sort out my thoughts and make sure every question that came to mind was answered. If I started blurting them now, I’d miss something important.

“There’s another reason.”

“What is it?”

“For our family,” dad said.

I didn’t trust this Mayor Kent. He looked exactly like my dad, but that was a man from memory over six months ago. He hadn’t been home or called me once since leaving for his around-the-world tour. It felt unlikely that I’d return to this world with so many people missing and have my dad be one of the survivors.

Still, family made me think of those that had been left behind. “What happened to my brother, Richard?” I asked, partially as a test.

“Your brother is gone. He took his wife and nephew with him. They exited. During the line. Early on.”

My heart thumped loudly. Assuming it hadn’t hit me in the same way as hearing it.

I nodded. “Then they’re all dead.”

“As far as anyone knows.”

I expected to completely shut down with the revelation but felt oddly accepting. Meeting anyone from my prior life was a stretch at this stage. The only reason I knew anyone in this town was because we’d been returned to where we started.

“Well. Not all of them. Your niece. My granddaughter, is alive. I found her… alone at your brother’s house. One of the elves was looking after her.”

Post Note: I want to say that my dad’s look dispelled any doubts I had. He certainly seemed infatuated, but I’ve grown increasingly paranoid since the event.

“I don’t believe it.” I couldn’t.

“Believe. She’s alive. Happy, strangely. But Stella never knew me really. I guess I haven’t been around enough. It feels wrong to reunite with my family like this. There’s only you, and her. And you look like…”

“A monster.”

Mayor Kent said nothing to that.

“How is she?” I asked, changing the subject.

“She’s doing baby things. Eats. Needs diapers. Eats more. Cries and laughs. But really I think Stella could use family she recognizances. Maybe you’d like to see her? Even if you’re different looking, your face is almost the same. I knew you at first glance.”

I didn’t believe him.

“I’m sure she’d know who you are too.” He smiled in a way that felt wrong. Dad hadn’t smiled in recent memory. Not since mom passed.

There was no way she’d know who I was like this. Brown skin and black hair were not part of my normal appearance.

I circled back to the nonsensical idea that a child had made it through the line. “I don’t believe it.”

The two story building in front of me was larger than I’d expected. I’d gotten used to seeing trees everywhere. When we’d arrived I’d been more out of it than normal. Existing as Hawthorn for too long left me all muddled. Now though, or I should say, after last night, I was right as rain. Focusing on anything besides sex was easier.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mayor Kent said.

Monsters were everywhere in this crazy world. She shouldn’t have survived. “Is she the only one? Who takes care of her?”

“The only one I’ve found, and the Forestkin take turns watching her. They’re… more attentive. They consider it a reward to care for a human child.”

That was confusing. Elves were apparently a well known commodity in this new world. Mayor Kent, Little Shade, and Coach Madison all knew about them. I made a mental note to figure out more about them, covertly. Being a sneaky person had to benefit me somehow. Eavesdropping would be a good use.

“Come on. Maybe the stakes will be clearer once you see your niece.”

I nodded. Mayor Kent showed me inside. With every step my body tensed and I forced myself to relax. An alternate cascade of tight muscles and relaxing washes kept me off balance. The stairs felt too long and short at the same time. Each creek drug on for longer, making it hard to focus on my father’s words.

At the end of the hallway was an elf. The woman had a smile until she say Mayor Kent. He continued walking down the hall while the elf found a corner then slunk passed us.

“Stella’s in there,” Mayor Kent said. He gave a weak smile, as if we were both made of glass and the slightest hint of real emotion might shatter either one of us.

I nodded then slowly approached the room. Right outside were weapons and armaments, along with a whistle. Words in gibberish were printed above it, some scratched out, until finally a long red arrow pointed down. Someone had drawn a crude mini-orc next to it and an exclamation mark.

Formula, diapers, and wipes were in abundant supply and stacked next to the door. That alone made me feel better about this place compared to Coach Madison’s slave encampment. Someone, or multiple someone’s, clearly cared about making sure the toddler inside was well stocked.

Inside, was a room with boarded up windows, and a baby gate sat across the doorway. Small rays of sunlight shone from between the slats of wood. Faded blocks and children’s toys strewn were about the room.

I went past the gate and stood just inside. The baby paused and glanced up at me. She looked vaguely like Stella but I couldn’t be sure. Stella was also the first, and only child I’d ever seen in this after world.

Post Note: I don’t know how to pen this properly. She gave off no sense of guile or unease—like my father did—she felt real. Like I knew, somewhere deep inside that this was indeed my niece. I’m torn between a prayer of thanks that anyone from my family survived, and a curse of anger that any child should be subjected to this strange world. How weak she would be. How weak she is.

“Hello, Stella.”

She stared blankly. I could remember the cooing sounds she made on the phone. This baby made no noise. Stella sat ten feet away with her hands on a wooden block. Mayor Kent stayed at the door.

“I am sorry that Rich didn’t make it.”

Stella showed absolutely no sign of understanding my words or even caring about me in the slightest. To her, I was simply a stranger to watch and be wary of. My accident and hermit mentality had caused us to be distantly aware of each other. She was my only family, besides the man who might not be my father, and I meant nothing to her.

I fled the room. I ran out of the building and down the street. Someone shouted after me but their words were lost in the rapid-fire pounding of my feet. I needed to be anywhere but there.

Three blocks away I found an empty backyard with an awning. Creatures may have been crawling about in the darkness but they left me alone. I held a fresh star-wrought blade in my hands and wondered if there was any way to make this end peacefully. I sat, huddled away from freshly pouring rain and contemplated life.

The storm reminded me of the one from the first night, during which three ladies had arrived on their madly speeding bus. Lightning flashed. As if the thought had summoned them, there stood three stewardesses.