We drove out of the BRTC and parked by the side of the road a few hundred meters down, where we unloaded the Honda Phantom 200 from the bed of the truck. We had decided to split up to save time.

  We only had two drivers in the party, Shawn and myself. Since I was the only one who knew how to ride a motorbike, I took the Phantom with Jess riding pillion. Shawn took the Digger, and Siva went with him as backup.

  We agreed to meet at Ginza Plaza, the small neighbourhood mall, in a couple of hours to regroup, and to ping in chat if anyone needed help. We reminded each other that we were out on a personal mission and not to fight, but to run if we encountered any problems. Shawn raised his hand in salute as he drove off, the sound of the truck’s engine fading as he pulled away.

  Jess eyed the bike warily before asking if I had helmets. I laughed and helped her on. She had never ridden on a motorbike before and she had me in a death grip before I even moved off. I could not help but smile at that. Jess had survived a zombie horde, being attacked by pontianaks, and horror-movie monsters brought to life, but she was terrified of being on a motorbike.

  She pinged me her address in chat. I was about to ride off but paused when I saw it.

  “Uh, wait…” I said, turning a little in my seat. It was difficult because she had the side of her face pressed against my back. I switched to personal chat instead.

  Chris: You live there? Really?

  Jess: Yes, Chris. Why?

  Chris: Those houses cost millions. Multi-millions. How rich are you?

  Jess: Right now, a couple thousand gold pieces in my inventory. It doesn’t matter anymore. Can we just go?

  I started the engine and rode off, my respect for Jess increasing tremendously. She had come from an ultra-rich family if they could afford to live in that part of West Coast. That area was filled with big bungalows and private housing. For her to be so down to earth and not stuck up really said something about Jess as a person.

  I activated [Pathfinder] and willed it to chart a route to Jess’s house, then picked up speed, Jess still squeezing me around the middle.

  We finally turned off the main road into the West Coast housing district. I noticed a few people moving about here and there, but no mobs and no patrols from either faction. I had a theory that the mobs in this sector had already been farmed by one of the groups to power level. I wondered if the system could not generate new mobs on the fly, or if each sector had a finite number.

  I followed the blue line on my map, riding slowly past empty bungalows with broken gates and overgrown lawns until we reached Jess’s house. This was the kind of neighborhood I would never have been able to afford to live in back then. Now, none of it mattered anymore.

  Jess stirred on the back of the bike as we neared her place. The front gate stood wide open, so I rode the bike up the short driveway right to the doorstep. There were dried boot prints along the driveway. The door to the three-storey house was slightly ajar.

  We got off the bike and approached quietly, my bow ready. I looked at Jess to see if she was ready. She took a moment, steadied herself, then nodded.

  I pushed the door open, and the smell hit us immediately.

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  Beside me, Jess leaned back against the wall, tears dripping from closed eyes as her hand gripped my arm to steady herself. I closed the door and pulled her into a hug.

  Back when I was serving my national service, I had sometimes gone out as a medic’s assistant on emergency ambulance calls. Twice, I had gone with the police on welfare checks and found old folks who had died alone in their flats. This had the same smell.

  “Jess, we don’t have to,” I said quietly, still holding her tight. She was quietly sobbing.

  She slowly pushed herself off me and wiped her tears away.

  “I need to know,” she said at last. “Please, come with me.”

  I nodded.

  We steeled ourselves and entered the house, the smell threatening to overwhelm us. The first floor had clearly been ransacked, with furniture overturned and things strewn everywhere. The second floor was the same. I had my bow ready as I led the way and cleared the rooms, but deep down I knew whoever had done this was long gone.

  We climbed up to the third floor.

  That was where we found them.

  Sitting on a couch in the open foyer of the third floor were two corpses. From the way they were dressed, it was a man and a girl. They had been dead for weeks.

  Jess hesitated for a moment, then walked over to them with purpose and cast [Purify] on both. A soft glow covered them and the worst of the smell lifted from their bodies, but it still lingered in the house.

  Jess dropped to her knees in front of them and wept.

  I gave her space and kept watch on the stairs. I was not good in situations like this. I doubted I ever would be.

  After a while, I heard her breathing start to steady. The raw, open crying eased into short, shaky sniffs, and then stopped. I turned, expecting her to head for the stairs, but she was still by the bodies.

  She'd wiped away her tears and took a deep breath before bending over the bodies. Her face was a rigid mask. This was not Jess, the daughter anymore. This was Jess the doctor.

  She began checking them over, her movements brisk and practiced, like she was doing a visual post-mortem. I just stood guard at the stairs, feeling useless. Jess had cast soothing spells on all of us so many times. I had nothing like that to give her now.

  “Chris, pass me your arrow,” she said, without looking up.

  I handed her the one I was holding. She hesitated for a moment, then pressed the tip gently into one of the wounds on the older body. It slid in clean.

  She pulled the arrow back out and frowned in thought, then moved to the girl. She tilted her head to one side, looking at her neck. She froze.

  “It’s gone,” Jess said, standing upright. She handed the arrow back and walked past me.

  “What’s gone?” I asked, confused.

  “Let’s talk downstairs. I… I can’t be here any longer,” she said, already heading down.

  We went back to the ground floor, where the air was a little less thick. She took a moment, squared her shoulders, and explained.

  “They died from arrow wounds,” she said. “Not claws or teeth. Arrows, Chris. And my sister’s necklace is gone. It’s a gold necklace I made for her. It has her name on it. Becca. Short for Rebecca.”

  She spoke in short, tense bursts, holding the emotion down by force.

  I focused on the facts.

  They were not killed by mobs. This was human. Looters. Either the Temple idiots or the Rebellion did this. But why? Was it a robbery gone wrong? And it was definitely after the switchover. No housebreaker in Singapore used arrows.

  I tensed, feeling the anger rise, but I forced it back with a few deep breaths. Jess needed me steady, not raging on her behalf. I nodded to show I understood.

  “Let’s… let’s move. There’s nothing else here for me,” she said, turning for the door.

  I caught her hand. “Do you… want to do anything for them? Last rites. Or a burial?”

  Jess paused, thinking. “Do you still have your flame arrows?”

  I did.

  She nodded once and walked out.

  We rode out to what I estimated was within range of my shot and stopped the bike. From the seat, I drew the longbow, notched the flame arrow, and aimed for the third floor.

  The arrow arced cleanly and smashed through the window. A moment later, fire bloomed inside. We stayed and watched as it caught, slow at first, then faster as it found curtains and wood.

  Before I rode off, I felt Jess’s tears on the back of my neck. She was holding me tighter now, her arms around my chest instead of my stomach.

  “Goodbye…” she whispered, and tapped my chest.

  I opened the throttle and rode away, the house burning behind us, flames climbing in the mirrors.