Warbreaker's Risk: A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure (The Connected System Book 2), page 11
If not, they’d have to learn. Did having skills with a gun translate to having skills with a bow? Not in the real world, but in this new Connected World?
Hopefully, the survivors would already have that figured out when they got to the camp.
Ed Turner was a smart man. As much as he annoyed Loch, Ed knew what he was doing as selectman. He’d have that camp organized and running smoothly.
As much as he could without knowing fully what was going on.
Getting the food and supplies to the camp was important, but Loch knew getting Cerie there was even more so. The knowledge she had would help all of them get stronger faster and adapt to the new world better. She had hinted that there would be other Connected, from other worlds, coming to Earth or already here, like the elf and giant he had encountered, looking for the same Resources that Loch and the others would need. These would be beings from Connected Worlds. They would have the knowledge of how to survive in this world.
Knowledge that the people in the camp needed.
He turned away from the meat coolers, and back down the next aisle. There was so much he wanted to grab but knew it wasn’t going to be worth it. Whatever they got, it wouldn’t last long. A box of 24 granola bars, that would last a single person twenty-four days at one a day. But two people? That was twelve days. Four people? Only six days. Twenty-four people? They’d each get one, and that would be it.
Four boxes wouldn’t give a hundred people a granola bar. This was hopeless. A lot of work and effort to get what would amount to only a couple of days, weeks at the most, of food back to the camps. Even with rationing, it wouldn’t last long.
And winter was coming.
This was the worst time the Connection could have happened. Spring would have given them plenty of time to plant crops and gather meat. The Connection should never have happened, but it did, and the timing was horrible.
How many were going to die during the winter? Of starvation? A lot would die from the threats the Connection brought with it. Loch pulled a box of crackers off the shelf, throwing it into the already piled high cart. Every little bit would help.
Chapter Thirteen
Loch stood in the vestibule, the automatic doors not working but open. They’d been pulled open by the hobs, a foot or so of space. He could feel the wind blowing through the doors. It was strong, the doors moving a bit with the force.
The parking lot was a mess. Cracks, pavement pushed up. A couple of areas of what looked to be sinkholes. There was a way to push the carts through. Not a straight shot. It was long and winding. A lot of extra work but doable
He didn’t see any hobs.
That didn’t mean they weren’t out there. Probably at the far edge of the lot, where the side entrance led onto a small street, some houses and woods, and then route 202 and the new location of the hobs mound.
Cerie insisted that the hobs wouldn’t attack. The Connection would prevent them from attacking Loch and the others from giving up on the Resource Location. They’d rush in and reclaim it.
He wasn’t sure how much he believed her. Why wouldn’t they attack?
Loch and his group would be at a clear disadvantage. They’d each be pushing a cart, and have some bags with straps that would need to get untangled before fighting. They’d have the carts themselves to protect. Even Loch knew he wouldn’t pass up such a tempting target.
But the fairy insisted, and Loch had to believe her.
That didn’t mean they wouldn’t be on their guard.
He looked behind him, seeing the others all lined up, loaded with bags and over-filled shopping carts. They looked ready to go, mostly ready. No one believed Cerie. Sitting on Piper’s shoulder, Cerie didn’t look like she cared.
Harper gave him a thumbs up.
Loch walked to what had been the exit door. How many times had he stepped on the mat, the door opening before him? Next to the door had been the stand with all the attraction pamphlets. When she’d been little, Piper had always grabbed one or two. They’d end up on the floor of the truck, car, or in the house, but she enjoyed flipping through them for a couple of minutes. No matter how hard Loch and Kelly tried to get her to stop, she always managed to sneak one or two.
The stand was still there. Most of the pamphlets. A lot had been ripped out, torn to pieces, scattered around the vestibule, the wind taking some outside. Another thing lost to the Connection.
Such a minor thing, but at that moment, Loch wanted to collapse. Fall down to the ground and give up. It was too much. So much was lost, never to be recovered. The origin of so many memories, lost or destroyed. Lives too. So many people he knew, most likely dead.
Friends. Family.
Kelly.
Who was still out there somewhere.
If he kept saying it, it would be true.
He took a deep breath, forcing the depression back down into the dark pit. Hidden away.
For now.
At some point, he’d have to deal with all the emotions he was burying, but that moment wasn’t now.
The only thing to deal with now was getting the door fully open.
He could see shards of glass, dried spills, on the other side. The hobs had either passed stuff through the opening of the door or thrown it. Probably both.
Leaning against the door, thankful this one opened out, Loch started pushing. It slid an inch, the metal grinding, the frame not feeling very sturdy. He was careful not to put his weight against the glass, not trusting it to hold against his Adapted strength. That didn’t give much surface area to push against, the metal frame only a couple of inches wide.
He knew the frame was hollow, just a thin bit of metal with nothing between the interior and exterior faces. Too much strength, and he could just dent and bend the frame. Slowly the door ground open, protesting the whole time. The automatic doors had push bars that would open them in an emergency, but that had been broken.
Somehow. Probably the hobs, but Loch suspected the Connection. Why make it easier on its Connected?
Bit by bit, inch by inch, the door opened.
The noise was loud.
If the hobs were waiting and hadn’t known they were leaving, the monsters would know now.
A couple of feet, wide enough for a person to walk out. Not yet wide enough to push a shopping cart through.
Another foot, the wind pushing against Loch as he was fully outside the vestibule now.
He could feel the frame starting to give under the pressure.
Only another foot or so barely enough room.
With a final push, the frame caving in, Loch got the door open enough to push the carts through.
He looked out into the parking lot, still not seeing any hobs.
Onyx in hand, he walked out from under the overhang, the wind even stronger. The late afternoon sun was high in the sky to the west, casting shadows from behind. They’d be walking into the sun. He watched the parking lot, straight ahead and to the sides, as the others pushed the carts out. There was banging and cursing as they forced the carts through the opening, angling and squeezing.
Finally, all five carts were out, the others waiting for Loch.
With one last look at the parking lot, the parts he could see, Loch started pushing his cart. The wheels rolled over the rough pavement, making that familiar noise. He was tempted to get a running start and stand on the cart, gliding through the parking lot. He didn’t. Not the time or place.
He’d do it occasionally, embarrassing the girls and Kelly. Mostly the girls.
Good memories.
Another thing was gone, thanks to the Connection.
It was slow at first. The carts weren’t heavy, but the rough pavement with the cracks and missing pieces made it harder. Loch kept an eye out, looking everywhere, Peter in the rear doing the same helped keep the pace slow.
Finally, after what felt like hours, they turned into the entrance drive. Loch could see the arch of the cemetery and make out the faint glow of the Dungeon portal. Or that was just his imagination filling in what he knew to be there. What little he could see was what he would expect to see.
The sun shone down in the cemetery. Nothing to indicate the world he and the girls had left the day before.
Was it only yesterday?
A lot had happened in a brief span of time.
They hadn’t had a break from the Dungeon to the Resource Event and weren’t going to get one until they made it to the camp. And that probably wouldn’t be a long one.
Turning onto Route 4, Loch was happy to see a pretty straight stretch of intact road. Where the gas station had been was now a glaring hole. They moved quickly, coming alongside the recycling plant.
Metal. It was a large facility but one mostly hidden from the road. A nice gate and downward slope into a valley hid most of the unattractive aspects. Most people never realized how big a facility it was. Loch had always been surprised that it had been located in Northwood. Something like that seemed more fitting closer to one of the cities.
They’d done a good job with the trucks, too, rarely seeing one during the heavy commuting times.
And Route 4 was always heavy during commuting times. Heavy most of the time.
Loch paused, looking down at the intact gate and white concrete wall. He couldn’t see much of the facility itself, lots more trees than he remembered, but there did look to be a lot of the metal bins and containers still there. Much more than he had originally thought.
How much of that metal would be usable now?
Would it be like the food? Not infused with Spirit, so not as strong?
Could it be broken down and reforged?
There had to be uses they could get for it.
But not something they could deal with now.
Something to come back for.
It would be a shame for all that metal to go to waste.
“A spawn field?” Loch asked, looking at the cemetery.
Lots of houses and a couple of the businesses had been replaced with forest and grassy clearings, even a pond. But, of course, the Ridge Cemetery was still there.
And active.
Loch could see the zombies and skeletons roaming the sunlit grounds but not moving beyond the fence and tree line. The fence was only in the front with an arched entrance, the name of the cemetery made out of wrought iron in the arch, a small mausoleum with moss growing over the roof slabs the only break in the fence. The trees formed the barrier on the other three sides. The moans of the undead were loud. They’d heard them coming up the hill, which had proven to be as long and as tough as Loch had thought it would be.
A steady slope, some rough patches of road, it had taken a lot out of them. They’d stopped a couple of times to rest, once for the night near the bottom. Breaking into a home’s garage to store the carts, Loch had kept watch there through the night letting the girls and Millmans take the beds.
They’d heard the moans of the undead before rounding the slight corner and the cemetery coming into view. It meant they were near the top of the hill, just a short distance to the ridge and another gas station. Just the cemetery, fire station and school.
Of the three, only the cemetery and fire station remained. Most of the fire station, from what they could see. Maybe not all of it.
Cerie had briefly explained, without going into detail, what a spawn field was when she had told Loch and the girls about Dungeons. Now was a good time to go into detail, and explain it to the Millmans.
“A spawn field is an area of the Connected World where the Spirit naturally gathers. Cemeteries are the most common. They behave similar to Dungeons, with the monsters within the field respawning due to the high levels of concentrated Spirit.”
“Would that be a Dungeon?” Loch asked, pointing to the mausoleum.
“Most likely.”
“That small building?” Peter asked. “It’s barely one room.”
“Dungeons don’t follow normal rules,” Loch said, wondering just what normal was anymore.
By the rules of the Connected System, what Dungeons did was normal. By the old Earth rules? Not so much.
“The Spirit of a Dungeon can be used by its Core to shape the environment and resizing the space. It can be as big as the Dungeon has Spirit to spare. There is a tradeoff between the size and number of monsters that can be spawned as well as the treasure.”
“I should learn to stop asking questions,” Peter muttered.
“Dad,” Harper asked, pointing to the entrance. “Are we going in?”
She looked almost eager.
Next to her, Davis looked just as eager. He really hadn’t gotten a chance to try out his Class yet.
“We won’t be trapped inside?” Loch asked, looking to Cerie.
“No. This is a spawn field,” she answered, as if it was something he should have known. It was a tone she hadn’t used in a while. The exasperated one when she forgot how newly Connected the Earth and Loch were.
Loch bit back a response. He tried to sympathize with the fairy. Her position was tough. She’d been the property of a Clan that had been Connected for Generations. They knew the basics. Loch didn’t. She hadn’t expected to be bonded to total noobs.
Her answer didn’t make Loch’s decision any easier.
He wanted to run into the spawn field just like Harper and Davis. The zombies and skeletons were relatively easy monsters to face. They didn’t appear any different to the ones in the Challenge Dungeon and Evaluate didn’t tell him anything different. Aside from the mausoleum, which could easily be skipped, there weren’t any hidden areas. What they saw, that was it.
No Elites or Bosses. Even if there were, they shouldn’t pose much trouble to the group.
But they had all the carts and bags to get back to the camp. All of which could be easily damaged or lost in the fights. Just for a limited amount of Experience?
“No,” Loch said, letting the disappointment come into his voice.
He could see it in Harper and Davis’s eyes. Relief in Peter’s. Piper didn’t look like she cared one way or the other.
“We can always come back later,” he said. “But getting this stuff to the camp is the priority.”
With a last look at the spawn field, they kept pushing their carts.
The white wooden walls of the small firehouse came fully into view as they kept pushing the carts up the hill. Two garage doors on the front for the fire trucks, a door in the corner for people to enter. Only two stories. A small station, one of two in the town. This one had been old and worn looking even before the Connection had come.
Now it looked even worse. But it looked intact.
“We’re stopping here,” Loch said. “Harper and Davis, go inside and grab any medical supplies you can.”
“Right,” Harper said, leading Davis to the door.
They tried it, finding it locked. Davis kicked at it, breaking the solid wood at the latch. The door sprung open, pulling Davis off balance. He recovered, looking only slightly embarrassed. The two disappeared inside.
“Any healing aids won’t be Spirit infused,” Cerie said, flying close to Loch. “They will be weak and barely adequate to potions and bandages, let alone healing magic. Barely better than natural regeneration.”
“Yeah, but do you think anyone is a Healer or Alchemist yet?” Loch asked. Cerie didn’t answer. “It’s better than nothing and… wait, did you say bandages?”
“Yes, Lord Lochlan. An Alchemist can infuse bandages with Healing Spirit. They are not as potent or quick as potions, but are much cheaper in the cost of Resources to make. Bandages are excellent during battles to close up wounds and speed up the in-combat regeneration, keeping Connected in the fight for longer without the Resource cost of dozens and dozens of potions.”
Loch was reminded of a game he used to play in his twenties, one of the first online multiplayer RPGS. That game had used bandages, along with potions, and during combat applying bandages had been harder, leading to an annoying failure comment flashing across the screen.
“Your fingers slip,” Loch muttered.
“What?” Cerie asked.
“Nothing.”
They all fell silent, watching the woods and road around them.
It didn’t take long for Harper and Davis to return. The building was not large and all the supplies would have been kept in the same location. They each carried two red bags with a large white medical cross painted on the side. Davis also carried a large axe.
“Good job,” Loch said.
They started to push the carts but stopped, looking at Piper who wasn’t moving.
She was facing the school, or where the school had been. The sign was still out front, in a grassy strip between the school’s drive and the road. The entire building was gone. A large two-story place built of mostly concrete split-faced block painted in shades of brown and tan with some red highlights. Not the prettiest building, one story at the front and turning to two in the back half as the land sloped down to the baseball fields beyond the parking lot.
Loch had spent a lot of time in that building.
Parent teacher conferences, recitals, and sporting events.
It had housed kindergarten through eighth grade.
“What about all my classmates?” Piper asked in a small voice.
Loch walked up to her, putting an arm around her, holding her tight.
“Are they all dead?”
“I don’t know, honey,” Loch said, deciding to be honest.
These were kids she had been in school with since kindergarten. Even if they all weren’t friends, they had grown up together. Now most of them were gone. What had Cerie said? Only 25 percent or so of the human population would have survived Adaptation? Maybe 30 percent?
Not a lot.
The school had been a large part of the girls' lives. It hadn’t changed in all that time. Lots of other stuff changed, but never that building.
Piper had been in seventh grade, close to getting out of the middle school and the building, where she had spent the last seven years. Harper had graduated eighth grade, starting her first year at the high school.
