Chapter 29: Only YOU Can Prevent Getting Trapped In a Bear Dungeon

Thomas’s adrenaline peaked, and for a moment it felt like he could see everything: the flash of guns, not only from the robbers pointing weapons toward him but further ahead. Three other robbers were lighting up the occupants of the first car.

They killed them! They’re going to kill me!

A bullet pinged off the hood of his car, another shattered the windshield, and Thomas was punched in the chest.

That was his first impression. It felt like someone had slammed him so hard in his chest that he was instantly winded. He involuntarily jerked the wheel, and the car skidded sideways across the road, though thankfully not parallel to the guy shooting at him. One tire hit the thin strip of dirt that made up the shoulder.

More bullets struck all around him. No time to correct his car’s angle. He’d have to pull forward, and he was being shot at.

Thomas somehow clawed his seat belt off, grabbed his backpack, opened the passenger door, and ran. His hand had been covered in blood.

Have I been shot? he thought frantically. Had that been the punch?

He didn’t know. In full flight mode, his mind felt completely disconnected. All he wanted to do was get away.

“There he is!” he heard as he entered the trees. Thomas glanced back to see one of the robbers holding a handgun sideways at him. The man’s eyes were a glowing neon blue. He was using a Gift.

Thomas ducked behind a tree just as bullets ripped by.

“That backpack is the fucking mother lode. Don’t let him get away!”

Thomas ran, or tried to. It felt like he couldn’t get a full breath, and his entire chest burned.

For a second, a comedy sketch flashed through his brain. Getting mugged? Throw a wad of cash to the side and run in the other direction. Easy peasy. It had been hilarious at the time, but the seconds it would take to pull his backpack to the front, dig in, and throw a bundle of crystals now seemed like a fatal amount of time. Plus, he wasn’t sure he had the motor control to do any of it. His legs carried him forward, but his arms weren’t swinging with the motion because…

Because he had been shot.

Thomas clamped down on his core. Healing energy flooded through him, and the next breath he took was a little easier; the one after that even better. He picked up pace, which was good because he could hear the crashing of people behind him. Thankfully, they’d stopped firing—

Nope. A bullet struck a tree just to his right, exactly at head height.

They’re trying to kill me, Thomas thought, which was ridiculous because obviously, but a part of him was still incredulous.

Less than three minutes before, he’d been just driving down the road, only keeping a lookout for drunks and maybe a deer in the middle of the road. There were definitely things he did not like about this new world.

Thomas swerved and had to catch himself before he slid on a patch of pine needles. The movement jarred his chest muscles, and a flash of agony ripped through him.

Yep. Something was not right there. Luckily, they’d hit his right side and not his left. That was probably why he was still going.

Ruthlessly, Thomas demanded more from his healing core, and as he did, he felt a flicker from his healing sight.

So, it didn’t only work in dungeons.

He concentrated and “saw” four men chasing after him, like hunting down a wounded deer.

Christ, didn’t they have anything better to do? Other people to rob? Other… evildoer stuff?

Thomas’s mind was starting to clear, and he spared a second to wonder if this had been a setup from the very beginning. Had one of the pawn shops tipped these guys off? No, they had the feel of a gang. Or maybe they were escaped prisoners, though he hadn’t seen prison clothing.

He had just been a random target until the guy with the freaky eyes yelled about his backpack. He probably had a Gift to identify valuable goods.

Should he ditch his pack?

No, Thomas thought. He had earned this loot. No one was going to take it away from him. Besides, unless they scored a headshot, he could heal. Or at least, that’s what he hoped. His chest still burned.

His healing sight returned something else interesting. There was a lone figure standing about a football field’s length away, just… standing there. Guarding something.

A dungeon! he thought with relief and joy, which was the exact opposite of what he ever thought he’d feel about an unknown dungeon. Whatever. He’d take it.

Unfortunately, in that direction, the forest thinned and opened out into a meadow. That meant no cover from the people intermittently shooting at him. Thomas had lengthened the distance between them somewhat. It seemed like the robbers weren’t used to running headlong through forests.

City folk, come to prey on people returning to town, or those who had decided to hide up in the woods with all their valuables. It wasn’t too bad of a plan. Their trap had sure snagged him.

Either way, halfway across the meadow, he saw the figure of a National Guardsman standing before a dungeon, a rifle in hand. The dungeon was a weird orange and brown mismatch that kind of looked like sunset.

“Help!” Thomas yelled as he burst from the trees. His voice was gummed up with blood. He ran, clearing his throat, waving an arm that had just started working again. “Help!”

The guard already had an alert posture. Surely they’d heard the gunshots.

Thomas drew closer and saw the guard was a woman in her late thirties, with ashy blonde hair visible just under her helmet.

“What in the world is going on?” she asked, and the twang in her voice was pure Fargo.

“They… they got guns!” he choked out. His healing was doing double time, but he was still out of breath.

She stared at his shirt, and when he looked down, he saw his chest was a massive bloodstain. Then another bullet rang out from the line of trees.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Get inside,” she yelled, stepping from the dungeon entrance. “But don’t step outside that safe room.” She raised her walkie-talkie and started to issue a report, but then another two shots rang out. She raised her rifle and shot back, but that only caused the robbers to shoot too. Apparently, they weren’t afraid of exchanging gunfire.

“They already killed people,” he had to take a breath, “in the car ahead of me,” Thomas said, coming to a stop beside her. He glanced at the dungeon clock. Five minutes until the next instance turnover. “They… They aren’t going to stop.”

She looked at him, glanced back at the tree line where the figures were already emerging with guns raised. Cursing, she shoved him in and followed directly afterward.

The safe room was just as large as the chipmunk forest fire dungeon. This was a level two.

“Sir? Sir, plunk your butt down. You’re going to need medical,” she said briskly.

He shook his head. “No time, they’re going to follow us.”

“Then they’ll get a surprise. Guns won’t work in a dungeon.”

“I don’t know if they know that.” Plus knives worked just fine in dungeons, and what criminal worth his face tattoos didn’t have at least one knife on him?

“This is a level two dungeon,” she said, and he saw the fear in her eyes.

“I’m a level two…” Now he had a second to breathe and think, he reached into his backpack and drew out the mace. The spikes looked extremely… spiky and dangerous in the light. “I’ll keep you safe.”