Chapter 26: Bleed for Progress

  Death was constant. Cole was growing used to it by now. The constant monsters the System sent their way. He killed, he gained experience, he kept killing. There wasn’t much else he could do. It was that or die.

  The rhythm had become familiar in a way that made his stomach turn when he thought about it for too long. Walk. Listen. Feel his authority tighten in warning. See something move in the wrong way. Speak a verdict. Let the others finish what he pinned. Watch bodies fall. Watch the notification appear. Wipe it away. Keep going.

  He didn’t have the luxury of stopping to feel sick about it.

  He had a goal. He needed to try to achieve it.

  Nathan wasn’t a vague idea in his head. Nathan was a real person, somewhere out there in a city that had turned into a feeding ground. Every day that passed meant more chances for something to find him first. That thought kept Cole moving when his legs wanted to fold and his brain wanted to drift.

  The men he’d brought along were tired. The trip had done them some good. They’d leveled once more. Cole hadn’t, which he found a little strange. He’d killed so many. He was starting to believe that leveling was not the same for everyone.

  It wasn’t just strange. It itched.

  The others would get that small spark in their eyes when they said it. Cole would nod, would say the right thing, but inside he’d feel that quiet frustration coil tighter.

  Because he could feel himself changing. He could feel his spells land cleaner. He could feel his authority settle faster when he needed it.

  But the number didn’t move.

  His theory so far was that it was related to challenge. Cole hadn’t had much of a challenge killing these monsters. For the majority of the fights, he had simply made it possible for the others to kill the monsters without dying.

  He wasn’t sure he liked that idea, because it implied something he didn’t want to admit.

  It implied the System cared more about struggle than survival.

  It implied you might have to bleed for progress.

  They began to need his help a little less each fight.

  He noticed it in small ways. How Brent stepped in without waiting for a gesture. How one of the others stopped flinching every time a creature shrieked. How Stephan’s hands were steadier when he put a knife to monster flesh.

  Cole still ended fights fast when he could. He wasn’t interested in letting danger linger just to prove something.

  But he couldn’t deny they were getting better.

  Before long, they had gathered everything Cole felt they needed, including raiding the armory near the police station. He kept an eye out for more of these Wrath members but saw none.

  The armory had been half looted already, but there was still enough. Enough guns, enough ammo, enough gear that people could stop pretending sharp sticks were a long-term plan. Cole didn’t like being in the police station. Something about the place felt heavy. Still, he took what Hawthorne needed.

  He kept waiting for a red demon skull patch to show up in a doorway.

  Nothing.

  The city was too big for that kind of certainty, but the absence sat in his mind anyway. Rorick had gotten away. That meant Devin knew. That meant Wrath knew.

  They made their way back to Hawthorne. A few more fights along the way delayed them, especially with Stephan butchering the monsters for their parts.

  It slowed them more than Cole expected. Killing was quick. Harvesting took time. Time meant risk.

  But they needed supplies. They needed every edge they could find. Cole couldn’t argue with that. He just kept watch while Stephan worked, staff in hand, eyes scanning the ruined street, authority ready to warn him if something slid too close.

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  The party strode through the gates with Naomi meeting them.

  Naomi looked exactly the same as always. Clipboard in hand. Hair pulled back. That expression that said the world could end twice and she’d still be annoyed about inventory.

  Cole almost respected it.

  “I have stuff for the settlement. Where should I put it?”

  The mousy woman gestured with her clipboard.

  “This way,” she said.

  Cole followed to another small building. Inside was a small space, organized as best as could be managed under the circumstances. Mostly canned food, a lot of potatoes and rice. Very little in the way of meat.

  The shelves were stacked tight, labels facing outward when possible. Someone had made little sections with handwritten signs. Someone had even swept the floor. It wasn’t much, but it was order.

  Cole’s eyes went to the meat section out of habit.

  It was almost empty.

  “I have monster meat that Stephan is able to cook now. Not sure how it can be stored. Drying maybe?” Cole shrugged, depositing most of what they had gathered on the ground by pointing his staff and accessing the storage space.

  Crates, bags, bundles, and awkward shapes appeared as he pulled them out. Canned goods clanked. Boxes thudded. The smell of monster meat slipped out even through whatever wrapping Stephan had used, sharp and metallic with that faint chemical edge.

  Naomi stared at it all. Then she sighed.

  “You’ve given me a lot of work. Okay. I gotta get started on this. Weapons go to our armory, food here, other stuff there…” She trailed off into mutters.

  She was already sorting it in her mind, already building a schedule, already figuring out who to yell at. Her eyes moved over the piles.

  Cole had ceased to exist to her. He shrugged.

  He didn’t mind. In a weird way, it was comforting. Naomi’s annoyance was a sign Hawthorne still had a heartbeat.

  Returning to his room he had been shown when he first arrived, he sat on the cot.

  The cot creaked under him. The room was small and plain, the air stale. His staff leaned against the wall, within reach. He didn’t even bother taking his boots off.

  Exhaustion settled over him. He had been keeping it back with a dam of sheer willpower, only the dam had cracked.

  His eyes blurred. His shoulders sagged. His thoughts slowed down until they were just shapes drifting in gray.

  Before he knew it, he was asleep.

  __

  Weeks became a blur. There was another monster wave, which Cole helped repel, and was handled a lot more smoothly this time.

  The horn sounded. People ran to positions. The palisade held. The killing was still ugly, still loud, still full of screaming, but it wasn’t chaos like the first time. It was organized.

  This was because over the last few week Cole had helped train up a small force. The others he had first taken out became leaders in their own right, taking out a small force of their own.

  Cole saw it happen in pieces. Brent correcting someone’s stance without being asked. Stephan showing a kid how to angle a knife for a clean cut. The others stepping into roles with ease. They were building something because they had to.

  The System had been handing out professions, the skills they gained went a long way for the settlement. Smiths were able to craft actual armor now.

  Plates that didn’t bend with a single hit. Leather reinforced the right way. Helmets that actually fit. Repairs that didn’t rely on duct tape and hope.

  Someone had even become a farmer and had begun to turn the back area of Hawthorne into a farm with the help of the skills he gained.

  Cole had walked past the back area more than once and watched the rows take shape. Dark soil turned. Seeds planted. Water carried. A small green line of growth that looked almost obscene in a world like this.

  The monster wave was almost trivial, though a couple still died.

  Trivial didn’t mean harmless. It meant they knew what they were doing now. It meant the settlement didn’t panic and scatter. It meant fewer people got ripped apart before someone could help them.

  Still, a couple died.

  Cole watched them carry bodies away and felt that familiar cold settle in his chest. Death was constant. Even when you got better, it didn’t go away.

  The palisade that had gone up started to look a little less crude as time went by. Walls were patched, supported, generally enhanced where possible.

  Logs got replaced. Gaps got filled. Supports were added at the weak points. Someone figured out how to make the gate stop sticking. Someone else reinforced the corners so they didn’t wobble in the wind.

  It was slow progress, but it was progress.

  Cole sat in meetings, mostly sitting quietly as plans were made. He still hadn’t leveled yet. It was starting to itch at him. He needed to progress if he was going to find Nathan.

  He’d try not to show it, but it dug at him anyway. The others grew stronger. The settlement improved. The System handed out new abilities like candy, and Cole stayed where he was, carrying the same weight, casting the same verdicts.

  He didn’t want to be arrogant and assume he could kill everything he came across with no problems. That kind of thinking would lead to death real fast.

  He’d already seen how fast things turned when something moved that shouldn’t have been able to move. He’d already seen a man vanish into smoke instead of dying. He’d already learned that the world had rules, and then it had exceptions, and the exceptions were what killed you.

  So he kept training. Kept watching. Kept trying to push without being stupid.

  It was the fourth week on an early Wednesday morning when the next disaster struck.

  There was a pre-dawn silence over the settlement. Cole had barely sat up in his cot when the door slammed open hard enough to rattle the frame.

  Alina and Naomi burst into his room.

  Their faces were pale. Their hair was a mess. Naomi didn’t have her clipboard.

  That alone made Cole’s stomach drop.

  “Cole! They’re gone!” Tears were streaming from their faces.

  Cole stood up fast, rubbing his eyes, heart instantly awake.

  “Who? What happened?”

  “The kids!” Alina screeched.

  Her voice broke on the word, raw and high.

  “The kids are gone!”

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