“I actually get paid weekly,” Ajax responded when I described my morning. “But I have to pay for everything. Rent, food, equipment, laundry.”

“Huh, maybe it’s different for every class?” I wondered out loud as I carefully picked my footing. The old stone bridge had definitely seen better days. I could imagine it crumbling into the Thames at any moment.

The two of us had met at the west side of Westminster Bridge an hour back. The military personnel stationed there hadn’t wanted to let us pass, but eventually Ajax convinced them. We had to rappel down to the old bridge on coarse knotted ropes. The bunker-like structure that sealed off the bridge only had doors on the city side.

As we stepped onto what should have been South London, I breathed a sigh of relief. If the bridge collapsed I would just wake up back at the church, but that didn’t ease the primal fear in my gut.

Looking up from the reassuringly solid ground, I marveled at the destruction around me. Many of the buildings had collapsed or were burned-out husks. The stone streets were gouged and torn up.

“Come on,” Ajax said. “From what Boss Grey told us, Slinger’s base is somewhere northeast of here.” We carefully made our way into the dead city. It only took us a few minutes to run into our first monster.

The zombie stumbled out of an alley and started towards us at a lurching gait. It was covered in dried blood, and its clothes were little more than rags. Acting on instinct, I raised my shamshir and brand new buckler and charged.

After paying the church’s tithe and getting my armor fixed, I had barely enough to cover the replacement shield. If the finder’s fee for all the smuggled goods didn’t come in soon, I might struggle to keep my gear maintained.

That said, I was happy to have the buckler as I smashed it into the zombie’s rotten face. Unfortunately for me, zombies apparently don’t feel pain. Instead of reeling back from the blow, the zombie ignored its destroyed jaw and latched onto my arm with boney fingers.

I tried to shake the monster off, but it clung to me desperately. The chainmail protected me from harm, but I couldn't get the damn thing off. It was too close to hit properly with the shamshir, and my attacks just left shallow cuts in the dead flesh.

The standoff finally ended when Ajax stepped around me and blew the top of the zombie’s head off. He looked smug as smoke drifted from his long-barreled pistol.

“Fuck that’s loud,” I said, my ears ringing.

“Maybe next time you won’t step in front of the guy with a gun,” he replied, reloading the pistol.

“Fair enough, new plan. I’ll be the distraction, you kill ‘em.”

I searched the street for any sign that other zombies had heard the shot. After a minute, I relaxed. Apparently these zombies weren’t the type that swarmed to loud sounds.

When I looked back to Ajax he was bent over the dead zombie.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Bullets aren’t free,” he said grimly, holding up the gold wedding ring he took off the corpse.

With that, we kept heading northeast, looking for Slinger’s hideout. There looked to be more intact buildings further south, but this close to the river, everything was mostly rubble. What was once a park was now just dirt and dead scrub. I would’ve expected overgrowth to start reclaiming the wreckage. Instead, there didn’t seem to be a single living plant south of the river. Just dead trees and bushes.

We ran into more zombies as we explored. Overall, they were a much lesser threat than the gang members had been. They moved predictably and lacked weapons. The only reason they were a threat at all was because of how durable they were.

Ajax could take them down with a well placed shot, but I was having more difficulty. The shamshir wasn’t heavy enough to crack skulls and decapitation was a lot harder than they make it look on TV.

Eventually we settled into a pattern. I would draw the zombies' attention and then just focus on keeping them at bay with my sword and shield. That way, Ajax had plenty of time to pick his shots.

Things got a little dicey when a pack of four zombies attacked at once. Ajax took two out with his dueling pistols, but missed with his beginner gear flintlock. I managed to stall long enough for him to reload using my weapons and push spell.

Zombies were a lot less stable than a person with a working inner ear. My push was still fairly weak, but it was enough to trip up the clumsy monsters. The shattered cobblestones of the street helped as well, though we had to be careful not to trip ourselves.

Hacking at the zombies, I had plenty of time to practice my newly implanted shamshir skills. It was frustrating at first. I had all the mental knowledge of how to chain one cut into another, but the muscle memory wasn’t quite integrated correctly. My cutting sequences were jerky and hesitant as unfamiliar instincts bubbled up unbidden. I would plan to step to the left, then muscle memory would have me step to the right. Getting used to the new instincts took time, but far less than it would have to learn from scratch. Even after only a half hour of practice I felt like I was getting the hang of it.

The other thing the practice was good for was seeing what the True Time skill really did. Things had been too hectic in the warehouse to really see the skill in action. Now, in the sunlight and with slower enemies, I could really judge the effects.

Basically, it boiled down to making sure my sword was the first thing to move with every attack. Then, after the sword was in motion, following through with my body and footwork. Almost like the sword itself was dragging the rest of my body along after it.

As long as I did that, my attacks worked better. Cutting aside grasping zombie arms was easier, the sword bit deeper into the dead flesh, and zombies were knocked further back by my shield bashes.

When I screwed it up though, like when I attacked after stepping, my attacks seemed to lack power. I had trouble knocking the zombies’ lunges off course and getting power behind my attacks.

Overall, I was very happy with my choice. The skill was a bit of a pain to try to focus on getting right all the time, but I hoped it would become second nature.

My experimentation came to an end when Ajax pointed out a cellar door attached to a decrepit building. I would have just passed it by without a second thought, but Ajax’s high perception picked up on things that I missed. Not only were these doors not burned or broken, they were locked with a chain and padlock.

As we walked over to the subterranean entrance, I realized what Ajax must have seen. While everything else in this abandoned city looked years old, the lock looked brand new.

Ajax smiled and held up a key triumphantly. “I think we just found Slinger’s base,” he said.

“Where did the key come from?” I asked, confused.

“From Slinger’s corpse. Didn’t I tell you yesterday that I went back to murder scene?” he replied. He slid the key into the padlock. I held my breath as he gave it a twist. There was a quiet ‘pop’ as the lock opened.