Important to me? That couldn't be right. It would be a big hassle if Sharketa dies, and I'd rather not get chewed out by the others for a failure like that. Then again, Corleone Family members are replaceable. We wouldn't lose anything substantial if she died.

  This wasn't like me. Risking my own life fighting this freak of nature… Why was I doing this?

  For someone else…?

  Life for most people was a never ending cycle of the most boring aspects of living. School, work, talking, walking, sleeping. And then rinse and fucking repeat. My life before the world changed was no different, so talking about it was pointless. Although, there was one aspect of my childhood that didn’t bore me to death. The only person who could occasionally get a chuckle out of me—Marketa.

  She was what my privileged parents would call a “troublemaking bum from the slums”. But getting into trouble sounded way more entertaining than piano lessons and networking for my academic future. Maybe being dared to eat so many oranges that I threw them up wasn’t the best idea of fun, but at least it got a laugh out of Marketa.

  That’s never happened before. Plus, I even got my first nickname out of that event—courtesy of Marketa, of course. In exchange, I decided to call her “Sharketa” since she loved sharks so damn much. So much so that even when one of those pricks bit her pinky off, she laughed it off like nothing happened. That spark in her eyes never went away, and that shit terrified me.

  Why did someone like her want to be friends with a bore like me? Even after all the times I tried ending our “friendship”, Marketa would find a way to reel me back in. Twelve years of that, and keeping her around felt like second nature.

  Maybe that's why I jumped in to save her. She was like an old TV you knew needed to be replaced, but a new one just couldn't be afforded. Without Marketa, I'd be alone. She was the only one who could tolerate my “horrible” outlook on life, and I was the only one who could handle her craziness.

  Through the Old Earth and the New, through killing monsters, working in the Slavelands, and joining the Corleone Family, Marketa has never left my side. A partner through combat, negotiations, overseeing, killing…

  Wait a minute. Why the hell are we even in this family anyway?

  I never gave a crap about making lots of money or having tons of power. A decent income that gave me financial stability with a house in a nice, quiet neighborhood that was preferably miles away from any school. A housewife that wasn’t too pretty but not too ugly who was nice, feminine, and quiet.

  Definitely no kids. I hate kids.

  Hopefully I’d retire in my 60’s and live the rest of my life chilling under partly cloudy skies.

  As for Marketa, owning an aquarium was always her dream. Except it would only have sharks in it. And she’d feed them all kinds of weird shit in hopes of getting some special mutation out of them.

  Killing and fighting was boring. Overseering the Slavelands wasn’t fun. Being in this family of freaks was the worst. In fact, the boss gave me the option to leave at any time I wanted. The only reason I didn’t was because Marketa would've been done for. Not out of sadness for me leaving. The boss was simply going to kill her if he didn’t get what he wanted.

  Typical Corleone Family business.

  If I lose to this zombie, we both die. If he decides not to kill us for some odd reason, Marketa will die.

  It’s a lose-lose situation.

  I glanced at Marketa’s face, her teeth gritted. Or maybe this could be a lose-lose-win situation. All I had to do was win.

  “Run along, Sharketa,” I murmured. “I’ll take this from here.” It hurt like hell to say something so cringy, but it’s because it was a sentence I’d never say that I knew she’d listen to me. Someone as dry as me suddenly sounding so serious had to have convinced her.

  “Eugh, please don’t try to sound like some brave superhero,” Sharketa whispered, pushing me playfully. “At least use your normal voice.”

  A bead of sweat ran down my face. “You of all people knowing me so well is such a drag. But don’t get me wrong though. I’m completely serious about fighting him head on.”

  “Why not just run away and catch him off guard like last time?”

  My eyes shifted back to Jerome Hunter, who was punching the air a couple meters away from us as though he were a professional boxer. He obviously couldn’t hear us, so strategizing openly would've been easy.

  Although, being unable to hear us wasn’t an issue for him, and he knew it. We had no counters to his energy absorption, and he was quick to find a way to combat Sharketa’s ability. His strength, speed, and durability outmatched ours, even with his lack of aura usage. Waiting for that transformation to end was most likely futile as he didn’t seem to be in any rush to end the fight. That “Nuclear Version” could last for way longer than I’d like.

  It doesn’t matter what we do. That zombie would beat us. But winning didn’t mean I had to actually beat him.

  “Remember what he told us?” I replied. “If neither one of us is able to land a hit on him starting now, then he’ll kill you. I’m ninety–no, one hundred percent sure he’ll leave us alone if we can just do that.”

  “Ok, now you’re really acting unlike yourself. You’ve never made such a stupid statement in your life. As far as he’s concerned, we’re two strangers tasked with killing his daughter. We’re not leaving here with our heads.”

  I sighed, sliding my finger across the spring around my head. “If that’s the case, then why hasn’t he killed us yet?” My partner was about to answer, but I pressed my hand against her mouth before she could. “It’s because that’s not what he’s worried about right now.”

  Sharketa removed my hand from her face, furrowing her brows. “Why wouldn’t a dad be worried about their child?”

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  “We’ve been around that psycho Drakunov enough to know someone dangerously obsessed with fighting, and that zombie is just like him. I sensed it the moment I attacked his torso. Speaking of that moment…” I rubbed my knee and winced. “It hurts doing that shit. I’m never doing that again.”

  She began stretching her arms. “So basically, Hunter’s looking for a fun time. Well, I’m sure we can give it to him. My babies have been dying to get a chomp out of something real tasty.”

  “Good. That’s the mindset he’s looking for,” I said, reshaping the energy beneath my feet into a spring. “If we don’t show him how hungry we are, then he’ll devour us instead.”

  Sharketa nodded. That was my cue. The spring exploded, blasting me through the air, straight towards Hunter.

  My Radius Ability was simple. Using the energy in the environment—air, earth, and water—I could make springs out of them. But according to Michael, there were two things that made them so useful. One—my ability could be used without having to see who or what I’m hitting. Two—my ability’s range was automatically set to the size of my current location. Since I was in Hallowsville, my springs could be summoned anywhere I wanted.

  No matter where this zombie went, my springs would catch him eventually. That smokescreen trick from before wouldn’t have worked if he didn’t have that pesky energy absorption. And now that Hunter knows they can be absorbed, different ways to use these springs had to be done.

  The Type Two didn’t move, spreading his arms out like he was about to receive a hug. That scared me. That wicked smile on his face was even more terrifying. That fact that a zombie could actually smile more than me nearly made me spawn a spring to launch me out of this fight, and out of this entire spookfest Zoorhees calls home.

  Maybe this’d be my chance to find that nice, quiet neighborhood in Tennessee…

  But that beautiful image was quickly replaced with Sharketa’s face, smiling with those abnormally sharp teeth of hers. Was that my brain showing me something worse or something better?

  Right now, there were bigger fish to fry.

  My fist was closing in on him, but I sprang to the side, trusting my better judgment. As I predicted, Hunter clapped his hands, presumably to knock me back. Even though he missed, the shockwave from the clap sent me spinning through the air. Before I could regain my bearings, the zombie’s foot was already closing in.

  “Orange!”

  Sharketa yanked me out of the way, saving me from a hole the size of a cannonball in my chest. However, that put her in the danger zone, and she had no midair mobility to escape. But that’s why she had me. I launched the dummy upward, water from her bottle splashing onto Hunter’s leg.

  “Sharknado!”

  The water on his leg spiraled until one of my partner’s sharks erupted from that spot. That shark’s name was Beatrice.

  The zombie flinched.

  I've seen plenty of dudes shit their pants seeing those teeth close in. But not him. He just laughed and blasted the beast to bits with a single punch.

  I wasn’t deterred. Using my spring, I launched a piece of gore toward Hunter’s arm, splattering it with blood and meat. His energy absorption now covered his entire body in that form, but was it automatic?

  Seeing those black scales open up and absorb Beatrice’s remains lightened my worries. They became even heavier when the zombie proceeded to rip his own arm off and threw it at my falling body. My chest took the hit as I landed on the concrete. Sharketa ended up right next to me.

  I hated crowds. I really fucking did. Watching me struggle to get up like a bunch of NPCs. Tight spaces were never my thing. Tight spaces filled with people? Just hurry up and kill me. Then again, I would prefer not to die on a street painted orange and purple. Black and gray, sure. Bright colors? Hell no.

  “Shit…” I coughed. I began shaking my partner’s head and said, “Wake up, Sharketa. Sharketa. Marketa, wake up. You’re way too loud and annoying for any Hell down there to keep you.”

  “Woah, they don’t look too good. Especially that bald dude.”

  “You sure that’s a dude? It looks like he’s got boobs.”

  “Who cares!? I’m out of here!”

  The dude who screamed that and a bunch of other costumed freaks ran away. I didn’t blame them. I’d do the same if put in their position. Two superpowered criminals and a goddamn flying zombie watching everyone in the sky. Yeah, I’d be sprinting out of this drag in seconds.

  Although, there were a crazy few who decided to get closer to Sharketa and I.

  “Sir, do you need any help?” asked a girl in a pumpkin dress. The dress was literally made out of pumpkins.

  A man yanked her away from me and shouted, “Help!? They’re fighting a Type Two! You know how rare those monsters are? It’ll kill us all!”

  “Let go of me! Don’t you see they’re trying to save us from that thing? They’re human just like us. Doesn’t that make them worth saving too?”

  “Y-Yeah, she’s right,” someone else cut in.

  “Fuck off, man!”

  The man groaned, letting her go. “Fine! Suit yourselves!”

  Once he left, the group shifted their focus back to me.

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “We don’t have guns, but we’ve got knives and other pointy shit.”

  I felt my heart was about to sink as their faces got way too close to mine. “The first thing you people can do… is back the hell up.” They quickly listened to my demands, except for the girl who helped me sit up straight. “And if you guys really want to help, my, uh… teammate needs assistance. My teammate who’s a girl, by the way. Don’t make that mistake in front of her when she wakes up. Get her out of here. Far away from me.”

  “Are you sure? Wasn’t she helping you fight that zombie?”

  I stood back up, tightening my fists. “No… I don’t need her to win this fight. I can do this on my own. And you idiots need to leave too. I can’t focus with all these eyes on me.”

  “But—”

  “Just go! Get her out of here now!” I usually didn’t raise my voice like that, but people were more likely to listen if your voice was loud enough.

  Not to mention, Hunter was finally descending to the street.

  “Shit. It’s gonna eat us!”

  “Didn’t any of you hear me!?” I growled, tugging on a man’s costume. “Get her out of here. Now!”

  That did it. The group finally snapped out of their panic. Two of them grabbed Sharketa under the arms, hauling her toward the alley, while the others followed close behind. Their footsteps pounded against the pavement, fading just as the air thickened from the pressure of Hunter’s landing.

  The impact hit like thunder. Dust exploded outward, rattling windows and stinging my eyes. When I looked up again, the zombie stood only meters away, bending his fingers.

  “Reducing me to one arm doesn’t change your situation, Spring Head,” Hunter said. “I could’ve easily shot out a ball of that shark goop before it ripped me to shreds. I just wanted to prove a point.”

  “And what point is that? That you have a very high pain tolerance?”

  “That I can beat you with only one arm.”

  Wow, could you get any more overconfident?

  Hunter watched the group carrying Sharketa as they ran off. “Oh, that’s not good. I can’t get what I want out of you unless there are some stakes involved.”

  I didn’t need to ask what he meant. But before I could stop him, the Type Two blurred past me, running like someone about to miss the bus. A spring behind my back launched me forward in pursuit.

  That was exactly what Hunter wanted.

  With a sharp spin, the force of his backhand sent me crashing into a nearby library. My shoulder slammed into a shelf, knocking it and the books stacked on top to the floor.

  Everything ached, though I still managed to pick myself up and go hide behind one of the many bookshelves inside. The zombie’s footsteps were loud. I bet getting stomped on-no, stepped on with those big feet would crush your bones into dust. That asshole had no grasp on the concept of aura, and yet the pressure in this room was off the charts.

  A bead of sweat nearly dropped from my face, but I caught just in time. Any sound could mean my demise at this point.

  “Spriiiiing Heaaad!” the monster roared, causing the shelves to shake. “Come on out and fight me! You don’t see me hiding like a coward, do you?”

  Shut up! That’s easy for the talking zombie to say, you freak of nature! Try being human for once.

  “Twenty seconds before I decide your partner’s worth more of my time, Spring Head!”

  My finger twitched once I heard that.

  Strategizing on how to fight him for real and actually doing it were two completely different experiences. In the Corleone Family, strength didn’t mean as much as outsiders think they did. As long as Michael Corleone viewed you as useful and you fulfilled certain requirements to be in the family, then even nobodies like Ricky Saints and I were allowed in.

  Replaceable and irreplaceable.

  Those were the two categories the boss used to judge your character. I could never bear that Type Two in a fight, but the fact that my springs were good for traveling and long range combat made my weakness irrelevant. If you couldn’t stay in the “irreplaceable” category, then you were screwed.

  Roddy “The Shadow” Richman could beat me any day, but look what happened to him?

  I pressed my hand against my beating chest as a realization came to me.

  That same thing could happen to Marketa. The boss always saw her as a “replaceable” and only kept her around to keep me useful, to keep me obedient. No plan or strategy I thought of prevented that fate from happening.

  Fuck. I didn’t have the willpower that would allow me to just say “All I have to do is win” and actually fucking do that. What in the world could possibly help me win?

  “There you are!”

  Startled from Hunter’s voice, I jumped out of my seat. My mind was so jumbled that I forgot I was hiding from him.

  “Woah! Your eyes got some life in them again,” Hunter said, a hunger dwelling within his voice. He began to flex his arms. “Let me guess… you were thinking of all the ways I could be beaten, correct? Well, forget-”

  I launched a bookshelf towards him using my spring, breaking it into pieces. However, Hunter’s body remained unbroken. Of course it fucking did…

  “Enough!” the zombie snarled. “Enough planning. Enough strategy. Enough hiding. Nothing you have can defeat me. All I want you to do is fight me with everything you have. One. Hit. Remember?”

  I paused for a bit. “Zombie, what makes you want to fight with all your might so badly? Sure, I’m a pushover compared to you, but what about the rest of the Corleone Family? Or even the Underground Radius? The Death Riders? Other Type Twos? There’s so many people that could kill you. Even if you beat them, what comes after that? What was the point of all that fighting? What lies at the bottom of this bottomless pit we call the ‘New Earth’ for you? I truly don’t understand you people.”

  “My daughter,” Hunter answered quickly. “I fight because my daughter needs me to. I fight strong ass pricks, psycho murderers, and man-eating monsters ‘cause my daughter deserves to live in a world where those things don't exist. If you can’t understand something as simple as that, then you don’t deserve that bald woman’s friendship.”

  Marketa’s friendship…? Was that why I’m still here? Was that why she kept popping up in my head?

  Fighting for the sake of someone else’s life? Fight because you want to protect someone other than yourself? Fighting because you love someone more than yourself?

  Was it really that simple?

  I smirked, throwing my fists up. “I don’t care if winning seems impossible. I’m gonna win anyway.”

  For her.

  “That’s more like it,” Hunter replied, throwing up the only fist he had.