The Power of Ten, Book Three : The Human Race

These guys wore bracelets of ownership made out of silver. I collected them all, and the rings and earrings on a couple of them, as I made my way back down the stairs and through the house, looting them without stopping, ending with the big purple guy with holes blown into and all over him.

It actually had a silver bracer, like a slaver’s cuff, complete with a ring to hook chains to, if it was of a mind. It also had gold rings on each finger, and a line of cheap earrings up its long ears, plus under its nose.

Minor TK grabbed them all, washed them in vivus, and into my purse they went.

I murmured the Run spell. It would improve my pace by 10’, so base 35 to 45, making me lighter on my feet, moving easier, strides longer despite my weakness and pain.

It was still dark, and there were still undead around as I grimly headed for the wall, knowing I couldn’t stay here or incorps would swarm me like flies. Invisible to the Undead, pulling my Bonded Wizard spell so I wouldn’t be spotted by the things converging here, I actually headed in the direction they were probably coming from.

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A whole flight of wraiths and spectres zipped by me overhead about five minutes later. I had no idea why they were stationed so close by, but there was no doubt they knew where they were going, and dead ghouls burning vivic would be a good alarm.

I could only maintain a trot with effort, but it was enough to get me a good mile away. When my Invisibility wore off, I grimly kept at it, trotting through the skeletal remains of a forest.

Any spells I tossed were going to be visible from quite a distance if the undead could get any altitude, and I didn’t have Spell Thematics to change that. I was down so much damn stuff... Still, I was already a mile away, and I had passed right under the searchers, so hopefully I was moving in the direction they least expected.

I had to last less than a half-hour. Staying in one place was not a good idea when dealing with incorporeals, who could move very quickly, through everything, and fly over all the terrain. With the abominable lack of proper cover, there was only to grit my teeth, ignore my arm and side, and keep going until the magic gave out.

One thing I had on my side was the fact that undead weren’t alive, so they couldn’t push themselves like humans could. A human could train themselves to sprint a long distance if they had to, while undead had to struggle to sprint at all. They didn’t have heartbeats that could explode with energy, breathing faster meant nothing to them, and they didn’t have a combustion engine in their guts.

An undead could trot forever. But unless they were enhanced with magic, they couldn’t truly run.

Then again, at the moment, neither could I, but they didn’t have to know that. Base 45 was already near peak normal speed for a biped, and my trot could keep ahead of a ghoul pack easily.

I couldn’t go back to the road, but the area was remarkably clear of obstructions, and my Visual File and Detect Location kept my location and direction constant.

Any incidental undead I ran into at this point I couldn’t use vivus on, as it was too eye-catching. I could get up real close and headshot them, especially if they weren’t moving fast, and they’d just fall over dead, doubtless to be burned away when the sun rose, and Incarnate when dusk fell.

Vivus would stop that, and I should be using it, but it would have to wait until I had a path of freedom and safety behind me, or I’d just be making an easy trail for the stuff in the sky to see and point right to me.

So basically I was running towards the wall as fast as I could stumble, with Darts up on my arm, the clouded night all black and white in my elf-sight, occasionally coming up on undead, or passing near enough them to snipe off while barely slowing down.

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Ten minutes to dawn...

I eyed the thinning haze overhead, and noted that the undead weren’t trying to get indoors, as if it didn’t matter here. Were they too far from their respawn point, and the sun would wipe them anyways?

I couldn’t see anything along my backtrail, which was nice. I slowed down, counting off the seconds, and sniping any undead who came too near quickly, moving close and head-shotting the random strays, and as I noticed them stopping, I did the same.

The first ray of light was almost tangible, Natural Renewal coming by at a thousand mph, chasing the dark before it. The undead around me all groaned loud enough to hear as they burned away to ash, not even their clothing left behind.

Behind me, there were a whole bunch of airborne poofs of fire scattered all over the place...

I sighed and relaxed. I should be safe for now.

The wall was definitely bigger, and I could head back for a road to move more quickly now.

My feet were getting sore already, my side was still a knotted mess of weakened muscle, but must persevere.

I kept going.

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My Run spell lapsed after its hour was up, and I almost fell down at the sudden additional weight and reduction in my speed. Gritting my teeth, I could only keep going, ignoring how heavy my purse seemed to be as I limped along for as long as I could.

I made it another hour before sighing, bringing up my Disk, and sitting down on it, helping it skim along by kicking the ground below and actually getting up to a fairly decent speed as I did so. The worn asphalt of the road was ideal for skimming, a level surface that wouldn’t hurt its momentum.

The Disk had its own low-key movement, which gave me positive pressure forwards, and I could literally control it with a thought, so avoiding any obstructions wasn’t hard. It was kind of like skiing or sledding as I zipped along, and was quite impressed by how fast I could move sitting down like this. It was actually rivaling what the Run spell could have given me if I wasn’t in such horrible shape.

I definitely made the best of the situation, kicking along as fast as I could while the spell duration lasted, zipping down the road where all cars and obstructions had been tossed or shoved out of the way to the sides.

The wall was growing in front of me with marvelous speed, while I watched the timer on the duration of the Disk tick past reluctantly. I had a crappy Caster Level and had no way to boost it for the Disk yet, concentrated as I had been on offense.

It had only been two Renewals, but I hated being weak. No staying power.

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There were about four miles to go when the Disk finally ran out, and I finally had to start walking again.

I had plenty of time, and even at my slow and careful pace, two hours was going to get me there.

The landscape here was more and more leveled, as if it had been casually clawed and tromped on and torn away by a whole lot of things over time. Houses were torn down and scattered over areas, basements sort of filled in, removing line of sight obstructions.

There were lots of craters scattered around, too, which after a time I recognized as artillery barrage holes. I hadn’t heard anything last night, and they looked pretty old and partly filled in by time and the elements, but they indicated that something was on top of, or near the wall ahead.

Hmm, I should probably make sure that they didn’t shoot me, especially giving how I was limping along.

Well, that was what Holo 0 was for. Maintaining this shouldn’t be too hard.

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“Captain, we’ve got a day walker.”

Captain Scott Warren was grim and tired after yet another long and nerve-wracking shift, dealing with the undead who kept trying to climb the Long Island Wall and reach the humans stationed on the other side.

They’d long ago realized that jumpy troops would be affected by the area, shoot at the undead or demons, and let some of them in past the protective barrier by so doing. The ghostly spirits and things would attack with cackling glee, soldiers would shoot, and more undead would start flooding in and causing havoc.

As a result, the wall was now completely abandoned by the soldiers at night. The enemy was allowed to pound at the barrier and the wall itself all it liked, and they’d just inspect it and repair anything in the morning, which generally amounted to nothing more than some rocks thrown at it impotently.

Didn’t stop them from coming back each and every night, however...

He took the field glasses from the spotter, and was able to quickly make out the single tottering figure coming up the road, far in the distance, a good two miles out. He couldn’t make out many details at this range.

“Not moving very fast,” he noted, and squinted, as something had just popped up above it. It was... bright yellow, and then pink, either flashing or spinning; he couldn’t quite make it out.

“Drop a shell on it?” his lieutenant asked, a fresh-faced young officer straight out of the Academy, his eyes now years older after a few months of listening to the wails of the damned here.

“If it comes and it’s a threat, we can just shoot it... although the ones under the sun tend to be special.” Possessed, cultists, constructed things that were abominably tough to kill... the last two were capable of breaching the barrier and getting up the wall, so there had to be troops handy, and very daring, very hardy men standing watch for such surprises, weathering the damnable calls and taunting of the spirits who swirled just fifty feet away from them, hungering for their souls.

Those were some very hard and strong-willed men who took that duty.

“Let it get closer. I want to see what is spinning above it before we do anything.” Yellow and pink was kind of new...

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The figure moved slowly, pausing to rest, leaning against the car-casses dotting the empty area, trampled flat and cleared out long ago by millions of undead.

It was within a mile before Lieutenant Dodge handed the glasses to the Captain with a weird face. “I can make out what’s above her, Captain.”

Captain Warren glanced at the lieutenant, taking the glasses, scanning and focusing on the target quickly. That yellow and pink...

A Yellow Smiley-Face and pink kitten’s face were rotating above someone who had the curves of a young woman with dark hair out there, not looking in very good shape as she stumbled along, her left arm basically hanging limp, and that leg barely able to bend.

“If she’s alive, it looks like something tagged her.” He raised his voice. “Master Helix!” He never understood why these Caster-types all liked to take new names when they hit Five, it was some kind of tradition...