Chapter 27: Schwarzenegger Could Never

There was a frozen, crystalline moment where Thomas didn’t know what the hell he was going to do. So he settled on bullshitting.

“Preston? Never heard of him,” he said flatly, then shut his damn mouth.

Ashton, to his credit, didn’t run or posture. Thomas could practically feel the tension radiating off him, but he stayed quiet, which was the smartest thing he’d done all day.

“Look,” Tall Guy said, almost cordial. “We’re just looking for our friend, and we know you’ve spent time with him.” He paused and looked at Thomas meaningfully. “We also know about the Brighten Estate.”

That was a gut punch. Either someone in the National Guard had talked, or, more likely, the Old Families had eyes on National Guard operations.

Tall Guy continued. “Preston has people who care about him with real resources. It would be a shame if he were out there without that kind of support.”

“Dungeons are dangerous places,” Brick Shithouse added. His smile was a lot sharper. “Accidents happen, especially to people diving alone.” He glanced meaningfully at Ashton.

All this time, Courtney said nothing, but she watched him with her limpid blue eyes, as if just begging him to tell them what they needed to know.

While Thomas’s eyes were fixed on the dude-bro group, his healing sight had picked up something else. There was an orangish blob of life energy edging along the dungeon wall to his left. Though strangely, he didn’t think it was orange because of heat. It was just… something else.

He didn’t dare take his gaze off the dude-bro group. He just tracked it as it crept closer.

“I’ll pass that message along if I run into him,” Thomas said, dropping the ‘I never heard of him’ act. No one had believed him anyway.

The blob was not stopping. Thomas made no indication he noticed it at all.

Jawline smirked and stepped forward. Of all of them, he most looked like he wanted to start something. “Look, we’re going to find Preston with or without your help, but—”

The orange blob had extended a tendril, and it was inches away from Ashton. Thomas swung his sword backward and to the side, and a pumpkin monster, of all things, was sliced right in half, real guts and pumpkin seeds spilling out everywhere. Ashton jumped and twisted around, but the monster was already dead.

Thomas, meanwhile, hadn’t taken his eyes off the group to strike. After more than a day in the dark, relying only on his healing sight, he hadn’t needed to. Plus, it was a freaking pumpkin, and he was a level 2. It wasn’t exactly a threat.

Jawline must have decided this was his moment to be a hero because he lurched forward into a run, the spiked mace in his hand raised.

Thomas’s Combat Foresight kicked in, just like it did with dungeon monsters. He saw a ghostly outline of Jawline bringing his mace down, not in a regular chop as it initially appeared, but down and to the side in a move meant to take his head off.

“Tad, no!” Courtney yelled.

Despite having flashily killed the monster, Thomas barely knew how to use his sword. He certainly couldn’t wield it against men and women who were trained, undoubtedly had better weapons, and probably had other tricks hidden up their sleeves, bought by mommy and daddy.

Thomas moved to the side, slipping out of the strike’s path, and brought a foot up just in time to hook Jawline’s ankle.

He was faster than the man. It was almost easy.

He’s a level one, Thomas realized as his foot yanked Jawline’s leg from out under him. The man stumbled to the side, slipped on pumpkin monster guts, and fell to all fours. Still staring at the dude-bros, Thomas used his sword to push the tip right at Tad’s kidneys. He was only able to do it that way because of his Health Sight, but in retrospect, it may have seemed eerie.

Ashton swore and wisely backed away. Brick Shithouse stepped forward as if to help his friend, but Tall Guy and Courtney both stopped him, each with a hand on his shoulder.

So Thomas stopped too. And so did Tad.

“So much for wanting to talk,” Thomas heard himself say. He was grinning, though not out of any sense of amusement. His lips were peeled back from his teeth, and he couldn’t relax enough to stop.

“Let him go,” Courtney said, her voice high-pitched from stress, “or we’ll kill you!”

“Step towards me and I’ll kill him,” Thomas countered. At that moment, he felt like he could do it. It would be easy to drive the tip of his very sharp blade in. He wondered if he was stronger than the guy too, being a level two. Probably.

“Look,” Tall Guy said. “He just made a mistake. We’re just here to send a message.”

That was an off-ramp. Even though Thomas was flooded with adrenaline, he could do the math and knew it would be very bad if all three of them came at him at once. Ashton would be less than no help and would probably become the next hostage. Thomas had his own tricks up his sleeve, but he was not suited to fight other people. He didn’t have the combat skills. The only thing he had going for him was that he was stronger and probably faster.

Ashton could get hurt. Actually, he probably would get hurt.

He made a decision.

“Tad, wasn’t it? Great name,” Thomas said, clearly meaning the opposite. “Tad leaves his little spiky mace as a souvenir. Then he gets up and joins you, and you all walk back out the way you came.” He paused, knowing he would have to throw them a bone so they could walk away with egos mostly intact. “If I see Preston, I’ll tell him that Courtney and Friends said hi.”

“That’s all we came in here for,” Tall Guy said, with a smile that Thomas did not believe for a second. “Tad, leave the mace.”

“But—” Tad complained. Despite coming a hair’s breadth from falling on his face, he still had it in a tight grip and looked like he dearly wanted to knock it into Thomas’s shins. He probably would have if he didn’t have the point of a sword literally at his back.

“Leave it,” Tall Guy said.

Thomas had still not taken his gaze off the rest of the group. “Toss it away into those bushes.”

He watched with his healing sight as Tad did just that. Well, here was the moment of truth. Slowly, Thomas lifted the sword and took a few steps away, pushing Ashton back as he did.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Tad got up, all injured dignity, wiping pumpkin guts off his white t-shirt. Seriously, who wore a white t-shirt in a dungeon? Maybe he could get a new one and make it less skin-tight next time.

“You good, bro?” Tall Guy asked as he returned. Tad muttered something Thomas couldn’t hear and threw a venomous look back over his shoulder.

Aw. He had not made a friend today.

Thomas dearly wanted to send them off with a parting warning, as Schwarzenegger would have never let the moment pass… but he also really wanted them to leave.

“Remember what I said,” Tall Guy said, in what he probably thought was his version of a parting shot. “Preston knows where to find us.” Then they left through the door.

Ashton turned to him, his eyes alight. “That was so cool! Who were those guys?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I didn’t think you could be that cool!”

Thomas was not feeling cool. He felt like he wanted to throw up.

“Ashton,” he said weakly. “Shut up for a moment.” And though he dearly wanted to run and kill some low leveled monsters, then maybe hide in their burrow for a few days, he made himself walk forward and jerk open the door. The entrance room was empty. The group was truly gone and probably out of the instance, but he was not going to trust that.

“We’re going to wait ten minutes until we’re certain the instance is closed.” It had probably been ten minutes already since they’d first entered, and it had likely closed already, but he was taking no more chances. Too bad he didn’t have a watch… “Wait, I do have a watch!” Thomas reached into his pack and rummaged through it, coming up in triumph with the old-timey pocket watch he’d picked up in the mimic dungeon. It was, of course, analog, but it ticked along, keeping time perfectly.

“Um, okay? Nice watch, I guess?” Ashton squinted at him. “But what did they want? Who is Preston?”

“They are a bunch of tools, and Preston is Nunya.”

“What?” Then his face scrunched up. “Ugh.”

By the laws of older male relatives everywhere, he was required to finish a joke. “That’s right. None ya business. Go loot the pumpkin monster.”