Watched in silence as raindrops cascaded down the windshield.

It had been just over two days since their encounter with that thing. Since then, he had barely spoken a word, to Diane or just out loud. It was stupid, but he was filled with the fear that making a sound, any sound, would have brought that thing back to finish them off.

He could not speak for Diane, but she too seemed to share in his fear as she had barely spoken a word after her fit of screaming after that thing left.

After that incident, the two of them had practically been joined at the hip, each never letting the other out of sight. They even slept with each other. In separate beds, of course, but still…their schedules synced as close together as possible. The fear of that thing still unabated since that day.

He did not know why that thing had left. Maybe it was because of the rain. Maybe it was because it had already eaten. Or maybe it just could not be bothered to have wasted its time on them.

But it had left.

It was good that it was gone, but not a relief.

It was out there somewhere.

Waiting.

Goodie could only hope that it was the rain that had chased it off. The heat that had been building up over the last month had finally broken, sending a torrent of water cascading across the land. It had not stopped pouring since and it did not look like it was going to stop anytime soon. Hopefully.

The water coming down had flooded the roads, though, that did not stop them from leaving the area as they could. The dust in the air had largely been cleared by the downpour, allowing Diane to summon her Giant Beetle, which in turn allowed them to run like fuck.

He had to admit, for a minimum effort job, the roads were a credit to the elementalists. He did not know if the ones he had done it had been Gail’s lot, specifically, but whoever had made them had done a fine job. Skilfully packed earth, compressed to the point of being rock hard, with a slight curve to let the rain run down into the ditches on either side.

A nice thought, but with the downpour over the last few days, the water had flooded it, rising almost foot high from what he could see from where he sat within the driver’s cabin.

Thankfully, the large tires along the sides of his truck-waggon were big enough to keep the vehicle above the waters, preventing the thing from flooding.

The scarab was pulling them along as fast as it could wobble in the rain and water. Its speed only slowed by the need to manoeuvre around the various vehicles that littered the path ahead.

Diane also had her small, golden beetle latched onto the roof, ready to intercept anything that might have tried to jump onto a moving vehicle. He did not know if it would have done anything against that thing from two days ago, but knowing that there was at least a chance it could knock it off was such a relief to him, that the feeling itself was sort of disturbing in its intensity.

He was not idle either as he had Her Majesty on scout duty, searching every waggon they passed for survivors or more importantly, signs of undead. Her [Shadow Run] ability letting her zip from place to place, far faster than he or Diane, or even her summons could. Her maxed perception, revealing only the dead. Normal unmoving corpses. Entire families of them. Their unmoving bodies somehow comforting him, knowing that none of them were like that thing relieving some of the stress he had been under since that event.

Though neither of them had said it, but they dreaded the thought of finding a survivor. Or more precisely, they dreaded having to stop. They would have to open a door, maybe even have to go outside. Without knowing where that thing was or what it was capable of, their paranoia had run rampant.

Goodie had been certain that that thing was extremely powerful, but that certainty was not certain, however. It was possible that the thing may have had an aura of fear or something similar to it, an ability he knew certain mind altering classes possessed. But only adventurers had access to [SKILLS] and that thing certainly was not one of them.

Since that day, he had stayed in the front as much as he could, letting the sound of raindrops splattering against the wind shied wash his stress away, or at least tried to. The events were still too fresh, the shock of it all still affecting him, that and he smelled of piss. He had wet himself before that thing had left, an instinctual reaction to danger, lightening the load so he could run faster or some bullshit like that. Not that he had anywhere to run to at the time. He had done his best to wash it out, the smell far weaker than it was, but not entirely gone. He had drowned his pants liquid shadow stuff, rainwater from outside may have been a better choice, but neither he nor Diane had dared to think of opening any of the doors or windows of the vehicle, let alone stopping it long enough to gather water. Something that they would have to do eventually, as they could only sustain themselves on pink liquor for so long.

He had tried his tar-like shadow stuff as well, but that only caused the dye to fade, and the material to become more worn.

There was a spare set of clothes upstairs that he could have changed into, but he did want to for fear of spoiling them too. The longer he could hold out in his current set, the less money he would have to waste buying new ones. He was just delaying the inevitable, he knew, but even after all the shit he had just gone through, he was still worrying about his dwindling finances.

He watched as the beetle waded through the waters, forming a wake as it moved, veering to the left or right as it adjusted its course. Small bits of debris and items bobbed in the water, refuse from waggons in the road.

If this were a game, he would have been looting them for everything that was not nailed down.

He knew that was probably what he should have been doing now. It would mean going outside, however, and the thought of that sent a shiver down his spine. No, he would not be doing that.

He was brought back from his thoughts as feelings flooded along the link with his summon.

Her Majesty had spotted them a minute before the waggon came within sight of them.

A group of locals had gathered together on top of a large rock formation on the side of the road. The formation looked unnatural, most likely man-made, but its purpose, if it was, was unclear.

Why they were on top of it in this downpour was unclear to him until the truck-waggon was nearly on top of them.

Undead.

They had surrounded the base of the formation. Each had their arms stretched out, hands grasping for the people above.

Zombies. Proper ones. Shuffling, moaning, dumb as shit ones. He could see that all of them still had their heads attached.

He did not want to have to deal with them, not that he could. The only way to stop them was to either sever their arms and legs or to incinerate them with fire and neither he nor Her majesty had the ability to deal such damage. He had his spear, of course, but the range would have only put him just outside of the effect of their auras, and he was not skilled enough in wielding it to be able to confront multiple opponents.

He looked over at Diane.

It felt as if she knew what he was thinking. He thought she had the same thoughts as he did, but she said otherwise.

“We have to help them.”

Her tone framed it as more of a question than a statement, but a moment later she sat up and told him outright that they were going to rescue those people.

A part of him wanted to ask why, knowing full well that the locals would not have done the same for them. He squashed those thoughts, mentally packing away the shame of being such a cliched scumbag, storing it in his hall of shit that made him like shit, along with all the other memories of him being an arsehole.

“Right, so how are we gonna do this?” he asked her.

She looked at him for a moment, then looked back at the group of people.

When she failed to reply, he turned to look at them too.

They sat there.

And they watched.