Chapter 2

Daniel sighed once out in the corridor. He was free to act and still more than a little peeved at how the night had gone he walked down it to find the first chunk of wood that he had converted. This one had been knocked off its hinges when the original occupant of the room had been turned into a zombie and broke out.

He felt sad for a moment. It never felt nice to fight with anyone especially someone who was as close to him as Ivey. Not only had they saved each other’s lives they had even shared their inner thoughts. Oh well, tomorrow they’d make up.

There was no reason to be sad. He was still. And that, unfortunately, was an achievement.

And he had magic.

At a touch, the door fell apart, and he opened up his backpack and went to work. There was a wide variety of cores available. Most of them were hulk and without hesitation he pushed them into the weapons. This part of the process was easy. As he pressed the core down, the wood took on a play dough consistency and the pressure he was applying would make it sink in.

Then, because it was what he had done with the other weapons, he massaged the wood, moving its patterns and trying to strengthen it. All too soon, his mana bottomed out. Briefly unable to cast any magic

Daniel was not satisfied with what he was creating. They might end up being amazing, but looking at them the best that could be said was that they were functional. They were almost worse than the mass produced wooden boomerangs. There was no flair no artistic merit. “I’m not making art.” He picked up a sword and slashed it through the air.

Functional.

Yet it may grow into a weapon of legend if he believed Tamara. The sort of item that future bards would sing about. It was incomplete. Master craftsmen were supposed to stamp a symbol to sign their weapons. And this crappy looking sharpened practice blade would hopefully develop into a weapon that was superior to anything made from metal no matter how masterful the blacksmith was. The blade deserved something to distinguish it. A mark to proclaim that it was special.

It effectively took zero mana, so he created a variety of designs marks. Initially, he tried various versions of his signature, but it looked pretentious. Next, he thought about company logos. Often the core of companies branding was a couple of letters and a simple image. Daniel started playing with combinations of his initials and assorted tree models. On a whim, he used the image of a tree. Not only did it feel appropriate given how the blades were being made with his magic Daniel found it easy to create complex tree designs.

It wasn’t working. Then he remembered how in lots of books he had read that the first letter of the chapter had been made fancy. A lot more could be done with a single letter than a pair of them. A lone big D with vines growing up its sides. Good, but not there. Then he put an intricate tree inside the letter.

Daniel nodded at that. It definitely had potential.

With his mana recovered, he spent it by inserting more stones into the weapons and then he returned to playing with the D. For fun he let his creative side going and snorted at the first couple of them and then turned serious. Create an image, wipe the image, try a new one. Daniel froze. His finger had almost touched the wood to remove the picture.

Close, he thought, and pulled the finger back. He was back to a tree within the letter D. “That’ll work,” he told himself. The base design was simple and fitted his country boy nature. That was until you inspected it and you saw the details captured in the leaves.

It was a fitting maker’s mark. To elaborate for most but for a master crafter and the legendary weapons that he produced, it was perfect.

Daniel smile as he traced the symbol and committed it to memory.

With a touch, the design appeared on his own club, on the opposite side of its name. Then he touched weapon after weapon and the wood changed, leaving his crafters mark. Because he could Daniel varied how it was created. Occasionally it was embossed, other times it was formed from a darker wood or a lighter one. His favourite was when it was depressed slightly into the wood like you would see in an old style printing press.

These weapons were not alive yet and so the mark was meaningless and Daniel was a realist. If they did not become living weapons, then they would be broken scraps within weeks. The monsters they were fighting were just too strong. Their skin was often tougher than chain mail. As for his club that was his own and would always be his, it did not need a maker’s mark but it wanted it and so he was more than happy to gift it to the weapon. The simple indented design bubbled into place.

The rejection hummed across the bond and Daniel went to remove the mark but the club’s internal power stopped him.

“What do you want?”

He opened his senses and felt what it needed. It did not covet a simple indent. It wanted the mark to be made of white wood, the D to be prominently raised and the tree to be indented.

“That’s a lot.”

The desire did not change, and Daniel focused on channelling his power to create the vision the club had shared. On the fly, he created the design with all the features the club had desired.

Happiness radiated out from it along with a strong sense of possession.

“You don’t have to worry. You’re the only one that is going to get both raised and embedded.”

Daniel felt the club’s happy consciousness withdraw. He was not at all surprised. Communicating so explicitly was still hard for the weapon.

The club’s excitement made him wonder if he could place the mark on Janice’s Spear and Ingrid’s bow. Based on his club they would have opinions by now and there was no way he would force the weapons to accept it. He would ask and if they wanted it, then he would place it. The vain part of him hoped they would want it. Both weapons with their owners had the potential to grow into legends. Ingrid’s potential was obvious. She had consistently demonstrated incredible power and excellent decision making. While she was going to be a star, Daniel was more excited about Janice and the spear. It could already do so much and Janice had a fire in her that would rock the world one day.

A sharp pain radiated up from one of his teeth. Not good and with a grimace he pulled out the octopods core he had been grinding and poked at his tooth. There was nothing obviously wrong with the tooth apart from that brief flare of pain. Daniel hefted the core despite the saliva that covered it. If the core was harder than his teeth, then he would need to think of an alternative way to absorb it.

It was lighter than he expected. And remembered?

Then he ran his fingers over its surface. In places, the previously smooth surface had been corroded deep enough that for the largest hole the tip of his little finger could fit in. The object had definitely been smooth when Ivey had given it to him. The last hour of disgusting grinding had been making progress, but it was like eating a giant gobstopper on steroids. Eventually you bit down hard and regretted biting the lolly. And if his teeth were already complaining, then when that stage came it would not be pretty.

Well, he could alternate the side of the mouth he was using. If this new realities rapid healing extended to teeth, then while he chewed with one side the previously damaged molars would recover.

There was no point delaying.

He popped it back in his mouth and wiped his hands on the carpet beneath. It was only saliva. That was funny a few days ago, if anyone spotted him doing that they would have been disgusted with that, but now they wouldn’t even blink in response. Blood and innards were far grosser.

Priscilla was scouting for him already, but Daniel knew he was going to have to use some more animal sense pulses to build a better picture of what was happening. Two eyes were superior to one and the broad focus of animal sense could reveal something that Priscilla’s more narrow vision might miss. What? Daniel could not speculate on, but it did not hurt to contribute his ability to the mix.

He still did not have a plan to deal with the threat below. So many ideas ran away in his head.

Force out a beachhead and then slow expansion behind a wave of traps. It had worked very well to date, but if these were smart, that approach might not go well for them. There had been a couple of occasions where a single earth elite had been able to almost clear the trap field before they could take it down. The army below would have lots of earth zombies and if they coordinated effectively, they could push through a trapped corridor without losing a fighter.

The classic approach when facing a larger force was to divide and conquer, and Daniel was under no illusions that the army he faced was stronger and more numerous than his own team. With his plant abilities, he could shut the doors to the single stairwell they were using to move forces between floors. In that plan he was seizing the stairwells, however the power requirements were extensive and it would take time to defend using the method. Once more, some of the zombie types could make a mockery of anything he did. Just claw their way through an otherwise impenetrable thicket.

That sort of approach would be too slow. Those kids needed him, and that was something he would not walk away from.

Daniel shook his head in annoyance children and this sudden rush to save them. He couldn’t understand where this desire came from. As a general principal, he wanted to save people’s lives and even pre-apocalypse there had been people who needed saving. Maybe not here in Australia but elsewhere in the world. He was well aware of that, but he had focused on what he could influence, his immediate area of control. Possibly these kids were close enough that he might end up saving them, but he would not throw caution to the wind and rush into deadly monsters to do it faster. That was stupid, and he didn’t actually know that they existed. The only evidence he had was some morse code messages and it could just be an obese eighty-year-old lying with light flashes with the sole purpose of attracting someone, anyone to save him.

Why the hell was he feeling so responsible? If Jayden had not been against saving the kids, he would have blamed his mind control for this desire. It certainly felt like he was not reacting like usual. “Probable stress and trauma,” he muttered to himself. Then again, maybe not. He had never been one to walk away from a social injustice.

How to get down fast?

Bypass them all together. However, he had already rejected that, and knowing the zombies were smart made it even more stupid. What would happen if one of them saw them when they were going down. He did not want to give them the idea that they could scale the building on the outside. Let alone how vulnerable they would be while descending using ropes. Vulnerable to both attacks from within the building, it was pretty easy for Daniel to imagine rabid zombies leaping through glass windows and then also at risk of attack from the strange birds they had all seen flying through the sky.

Using a plant structure to drop a single story, however, was not ridiculous. At the very least, it would cost less energy than going through the concrete, metal reinforced floor. It was also more secure. If he created a hole that was something they would have to defend for ever. If they went down the outside, then with a touch, either Priscilla or he could make it drop away. There only genuine risk was flying monsters, and he was confident that lookouts could prevent them becoming a risk.

What else?

Moths? Go to the nuclear option. Mothclear?

Unleash the moths on the zombies?

Technically, he could definitely do it. Bust open the elevators on every level and let the months defeat the zombies. They would still need to get past the moths afterwards, but he would be a lot happier dealing with dumb monsters rather than smart even if the dumb ones were individually more powerful. After all, with moths, they would only have to clear the internal stairwells once, and then they could bypass the rest.

While the moths were unintelligent and a wooden door would stop them from being a threat, the same did not apply to zombies. A simple barrier would not confuse them where sound, smell, or even their curiosity could result in them breaking it down. Let alone intelligent versions. They would actively investigate any new barrier that was put up.

Animal Sense.

Daniel focused it downwards and his awareness rapidly spread through the floors.

A flood of information struck him. He memorised it and then dropped the spell so as not to waste his limited mana.

Then, while the echoes of that flood rolled over, he let his brain process what he had felt. The zombie army, as he was thinking of them were mostly asleep. There was very little activity, but they had posted sentries on the floor below. Sentries that appeared for the split second the spell was active were actually doing their job. They were not sleeping, nor were they moving randomly around or making noise, which would reduce their effectiveness. Instead, they were standing quietly, listening for enemies from above.

Demonstrable foresight.

It scared him shitless.

A small part of him wondered if these zombies were controlled by someone like Dave. The organisation felt effective and if a non feral was controlling them, then possibly instead of being hostile they might create an alliance with them. Given their numbers, that would be an enormous boon.

Was there a way to check?

If there were thinking people down there a Mothclear would almost be evil.

Another problem to ponder. Hopefully, Priscilla would find some information that could help him decide.

Or the zombies could tell him. Daniel remembered how he had communicated with the trapped humans. If there were non-ferals, then the same method would work.

Daniel’s plant network already extended down seven floors. One after the other, his will pushed out a plant tendril from the war where his major conduit was. Then he used it to right.

Help Lvl 20

The spaces were created by turning those linking bits brown. Then, at level twenty he made a more detailed message.

If smart, pile objects in Room 2034.

Then there was an arrow pointing to the room. He was sure someone more studious could have done better. Write something more succinct, but for a humble farmer it was good enough. It got the point across.

It was the best he could do. Dave, even if he was not paying attention would notice the words especially with the small bright pink flowers he grew over the vines. If they were intelligent, they would see the message and he would find out.

Maybe a combination of approaches would be superior. If he timed it right, he could seize the main access stairwell and once that was his they could eliminate the zombies floor by floor like he had done upstairs. It would be slow, but ultimately he was confident it would be effective. Unless they struck back. A miscalculation and that sort of meticulous advancement could cause all of them to die.

Plus slow, and his promise to Tamara echoed in his mind. He did not have that luxury of time. As much as he hated the concept, they were on a ticking clock.

Why? Where was the thought coming from? He admired Tamara, but not enough to throw all caution to the wind and prioritise what to her had only been a hope. Why did this desire to rush a headless chicken keep hitting him?

But for thirty kids? Not yours, his internal devil advocate reminded him. For thirty kids he had to try, but not at the risk of the people he had already saved, Daniel decided authoritatively.

It was a copout. Daniel understood that. Saying he would try but without risk was a non sequitur. Daniel was not one for self delusion. He would gather more information and then make a choice. While the kids might die if he went slowly Daniel would wear that guilt to protect Trudy’s kids and Dave’s Janice he added mentally. All children were worth saving, but it was human nature that the ones he knew personally were more important to him.

A familiar headache hit him.

With a wrinkled forehead, he confirmed his mana was completely depleted. He was getting used to the sensation. He still remembered the blackout the first time he had gone this far. Now he just powered through, but it was never pleasant.

While he was confident upstairs was safe, while his mana regenerated he could reconfirm that quickly. Confirm that no new monsters had emerged. “Absolutely nothing to do with the loot chest.” He laughed as he stood up. “But if I’m up there, I might as well check it out.”

He paused briefly on level twenty-five to release an animal sense pulse. Besides the guard on the stairwell, someone was up and moving in the corridors in a way that raised Daniel’s hackles. Shuffling, disjointed, wrong, and not something he could ignore. With his mind on full alert, he opened the stairwell door, and the guard scrambled for weapons.

“It’s just me.” Daniel whispered.

The guard who was there as an earlier warning in case zombies somehow got in the stairwell scooped up his spear and nodded at Daniel with respect. “Just on edge.” Daniel caught the flush of embarrassment in the man’s face and chose not to say anything. The guards had not been officially organised, and it was composed of volunteers.

“Understand. I need to check on something,” Daniel whispered while studying the lamp. It was crudely made, but it was functional. The metal on the back was even shaped to throw the light forward. It was obvious that magic would not remain the only solution to the lack of lighting, but it was still jarring to see this already. It had been three days and someone was already creating things to make life easier for everyone.

As sad as it was, it was wonderful. Progress. The age of high technology was over, now they could get excited by simple oil lamps.

Animal sense flared out once more. The person who had triggered his hackles was still there, pacing. He shifted the club in his hands and he felt it reacting, preparing for whatever was coming. Quietly, he walked toward the lurker. The flicking flames of the lamp behind him threw enough light for him to see clearly with his enhanced vision. That gift he had got from Priscilla was significant especially considering how much of each night he spent away.

Daniel turned the corner and stopped.

As did the lurker.