Chapter 2

The truck turned in to an industrial-looking block.

There was an auto-repair shop on the corner, a large temporary storage facility and a couple of warehouse buildings on both sides of the street.

They pulled in to one of the warehouse lots and drove in right inside the open roll up door.

The cavernous space was bright thanks to the large windows and sky lights.

Eron wasn’t expecting to see a large pen full of dirt, straw and goats occupying a large section of floor space.

The truck stopped.

“This way.”

Eron followed.

The gritty-looking dude led him straight to the goat pen.

“Wait here.”

Eron stood next to the fence and watched the dude approach an old woman busy wrangling a bunch of baby goats.

“Huh? The Abuela is actually an abuela.”

The old woman looked at Eron with laser focus as she walked toward him.

He couldn’t detect obvious signs of terror. There was a bit of fear, but mostly wariness.

Impressive.

“Why’d you bring me a skinny, pendejo. We’ve got enough mouths to feed.”

“Abuela…” a look of horror dawned on the gritty dude’s face.

“Mijo, relax. If what you told me is true, then if this pendejo takes offense then we can’t do nothing.”

“That sounds like a very reckless outlook,” Eron said mildly. The old lady was right though. He had no problem tolerating name calling. “It’s rude to call me names, but my parents taught me about the sticks and the stones.”

“Is right, no? We don’t shoot, you don’t ruin our trucks?”

“Sure, but there are limits. Annoy me enough and making a deal becomes more expensive for you guys,” Eron shrugged. “So, you’re the one I need to talk to about it?”

“Maybe,” the old woman studied Eron for a few seconds. “I don’t deal with people I don’t know.”

Eron frowned.

Magic becoming real had changed a lot of what they’d known as reality. Things as innocuous as giving your name could be dangerous. He’d had discussions about it with his brothers and others. They’d raised the idea that curses based on one’s name or identity couldn’t be discounted as possibilities. If wizard-style magic, like fireballs, was verifiable, then why not witch curses and voodoo doll-type stuff.

Eron wasn’t his full, legal first name. Was that enough protection?

He could give her a fake name or one of the superhero-style names he’d been workshopping in his head. Although, if she had some way of detecting lies, through magic or another ability, then that might ruin his opportunity to trade.

He weighed the risks.

“You first.” Eron decided that he needed to negotiate from a position of strength. Judging by how thin a lot of the people looked then they’d be very interested in free meat.

The old woman chewed and spat out an amber colored glob of liquid.

“Alejandra Valencia,” the old woman jabbed a thumb at her chest. “This is my nieto, grandson, Gabriel.”

“Abuela!” Gabriel protested.

“Mijo, you said this pendejo is bulletproof and threw a truck. I say we don’t get on his bad side like the putos on the other side of town.”

“I go by Eron,” he hedged. Make it seem like that wasn’t his real name.

“Eh, okay. So, you’ve got some meat you want to trade?”

“It’s called a drake. Basically a small dragon. About twice as big as a horse. Two back legs, two forelimbs and two huge, leathery wings. Long tail, long-ish neck. Lots of sharp teeth, like knives. Claws are serious business too. No fire breath or anything else weird. Can fly. I’m thinking that's magic-related, cause I’m guessing it’s about a ton and that seems too heavy for flight capability. Scales are pretty tough, I’d guess probably bulletproof against pistol caliber stuff.” Eron quickly ticked off the description. He had practiced it beforehand.

“The meat good?”

“Doesn’t taste great, but then again I’ve only cooked it over an open fire. Plus, I burned the hell out of it. Didn’t want to risk magical food poisoning or magical parasites. Never had any stomach issues, but I wouldn’t risk going below well-done until you’ve fully tested it.”

“And what do you want in exchange?”

“Twenty pounds of meat turned into jerky. If you can make weapons and armor out of it, then some of that. If not, then I want you to make me some steel or any strong metal spears or javelins. Oh and the heart. That one is not negotiable,” Eron said flatly.

“A ton, huh?”

“Estimate, could be more, could be less. I don’t carry around a scale.”

“How’d it compare to the truck?”

“Hard to say.” Eron didn’t want to reveal too much information. Truth was one ton didn’t feel much different from three or four. “I’ll need, like, a trailer to carry the carcass back here. Unless you don’t mind me dragging it over three miles of freeway.”

“Okay, we got a deal.”

Eron blinked. “That was quick.”

“Don’t like to waste time. Too much to do,” Alejandra shook her head. “Follow Gabe, he’ll get you your trailer and a couple of guys to help you out.”

“That won’t be necessary. It’ll be quicker if I do it myself. It’ll slow me down if I have to protect your people from monsters and mutant animals.”

The old woman snorted and spat. “We need to get stronger. Seems like a good opportunity, no?”

Eron wanted to curse. Seems like he got tricked into helping some weak noobs get experience and Universal Points. The old woman didn’t need to state that the deal would be endangered if her people got hurt.

“Don’t think I’d feel obligated to save your people,” Eron said flatly. He stared at the old woman without emotion. She actually took a half step back. “You need this deal more than I do. The things I want aren’t nearly as critical as your lack of meat. I noticed that you only had a convenience store and a gas station on this side of the freeway. I figure that the grocery store and the restaurants are all on the other side. I’d also guess that those racists on the other side of the city aren’t very sharing when it comes to access.”

Alejandra found her steel. She straightened and held Eron’s gaze. “My people are fighters. They won’t get in your way.”

Eron inclined his head a fraction.

Eron dropped the drake carcass off at the warehouse along with the handful of men and women that Alejandra had saddled him with. All in one piece, of course.

He had let them shoot the mutant coyotes that had gathered around the drake and kept the handful that’d survive the initial barrage from getting to the people.

They hadn’t made any effort to bring the coyote meat back. Eron hadn’t bothered to ask why. One look at the deformed animals was enough.

“Hey, man. I’m looking for a place to sleep,” Eron asked Gabriel.

Gabriel didn’t look happy. “How long are you planning on staying?”

“Only until the terms of our deal have been fulfilled,” Eron said.

“Go down main street toward the freeway. All of those buildings are empty. We need to keep a buffer zone between us and them putos.”

“Do they attack you?”

“The punks like to drive by and shoot or bust things up. Mostly windows. No one’s gotten really hurt, until—”

“Until what?”

“Don’t matter to you,” Gabriel said. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you break one of their stupid trucks if they tried to pull that shit on you. You might have to kill those little monsters. Say, do you got them from wherever you’re coming from? Pale-skin, sharp teeth and claws, big as babies, can’t handle light?”

“Gremlins,” Eron grimaced, “I guess at least it’s a familiar monster. Say, you don’t happen to have the bigger version, Gremlin Alpha, pretty much like the little one, but ten feet tall?”

Gabriel’s eyes shot open. “No way, man! That sounds like a nightmare.”

“Lucky then,” Eron said. “Alright, so, I’m clear to pick a place and use it?”

Gabriel nodded. “You best be on your way. The sun’s setting and it ain’t safe to be out after dark,” he eyed Eron. “Maybe that don’t make a difference to you.”

Eron found a small insurance office to use as a base camp for the next few days while he waited for Alejandra’s group to fulfill their end of bargain.

Darkness fell as he waited inside the tiny lobby area.

Chittering sounds surrounded him.

Gremlins launched themselves at him from all directions.

He punched and crushed them to death with his hands.

Disgusting, but effective.

The building only had two more offices, a small break room and a bathroom in the back. He cleared the whole place in a matter of minutes. It took longer to gather the gremlin bodies and toss them out into the street.

He knew from experience that the dozen or so gremlins probably only got him fractions of a Universal Point. They were too easy to kill and posed zero danger to him.

A thought brought up the spires’ system interface for the office building. He considered challenging the secret boss, probably a higher class of gremlin or gremlins, but definitely not an alpha.

The text hovered in Eron’s mind’s eye, while the spires’ voice spoke in his ears.

He dismissed it after a moment.

This wasn’t his place. He had no claim on any of the buildings. No need to antagonize the people.

“What to do, what to do?”

Eron didn’t need as much sleep anymore. Just a few hours here and there to maintain his sanity.

He considered going out of town in search of more powerful monsters and mutant animals, perhaps another drake. That wouldn’t have been without risk. His strength didn’t renew as well when the sun was down. A fight with a drake at his baseline strength and toughness without the added boost from the sun’s rays was too close a proposition. Even if it was doable.

Eron decided against it.

Better to stay out of any potential trouble with the locals, both sides.

Eron settled into a dusty office chair and leaned back with his hiking boots up on the desk. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Hours passed before fate conspired against his plans.

Angry shouts jolted Eron awake.

He listened for a few minutes until he got the gist. It sounded serious. It wasn’t his problem, but it did endanger his deal, so he guessed that made it his problem.

“God damn it,” Eron muttered.

The same two groups from earlier faced off against each other near the freeway overpass.

Armed men and women took cover behind their trucks while shining spotlights on each other.

Both sides were yelling at each other about missing people and missing livestock.

How to defuse the situation?

“Yo, what the hell? I’m trying to get some sleep!” Eron bellowed.

When in doubt be the biggest asshole.

Eron strode into the middle of the stand off and raised his arms wide.

“Well?” he squinted into the harsh spotlights until he found who he was looking for. “Is that little Brett? Shoot any unarmed men in the back since this afternoon?” he stared Brett down until the young man looked away. “So, who’s in charge here? I’m going to need explanations.”

Eron waited.

The group from the east side of the freeway, Brett’s, got back in their trucks and turned around.

Alejandra’s group did the same a few moments later.

Eron was left standing in the dark.

He sighed and trudged back to the insurance office.