A large pack of wolves had taken to chasing their prey to the walls of Nassau. At first Mason thought they just happened to look for food near the settlement, but he’d begun to realize: it was a hunting strategy.
They chased large, fast prey all the way to Nassau to trap it against the stone wall so they could surround and kill it. He was rather impressed, actually, but the dangerous creatures were terrifying the civilians, and would likely kill someone sooner or later. So it was time to teach them it wasn’t worth the risk.
He went out after them alone as dusk fell and the creatures were on the hunt. His senses had been getting clearer and clearer and he could see well enough at night with just a shred of moonlight. Nassau had other players he could have taken as support, but Mason moved faster alone.
In fact he moved much faster. As a Ranger and Druid he felt no fear in the trees—the forest itself seemed to move around him, welcoming and urging him on. It was his home, his protection, his shield.
Unlike the other citizens of Nassau, Mason also regenerated. He had already taken wounds that should have killed an ordinary man, but he always woke up with new scars. He also happened to be a ‘tier 1’ player, which meant he was in the top 10% of power of all players everywhere. He carried titles that meant he’d been the first to reach lvl 5, and level 11, also in the entire world.
This meant more or less he wasn’t afraid of a few wolves. It was a little ego boosting to be sure, but mostly his own power just reminded him how weak the others were.
His brother Blake was the one who wanted to found some kind of city or country or God only knew what. He was, in fact, adamant, despite Mason’s preference to stay in the woods and keep moving. Unfortunately it was also the preference of his assistant/girlfriend/bonded-civilian Haley—a beautiful French Canadian ex-jazz singer, now technically his in the post-apocalypse.
Thinking about her made Mason smile. He’d rescued her from some awful dungeon in a giant tree, the place full of half hyena men called gnolls. She turned him on more than any other woman in his life. And even in the search for his brother he’d been fucking the girl pretty regularly in trees and hammocks…and forest floors.
Now that they were settled, and without much else pressing to do, she’d spent more time on her back than her feet. Well, he sometimes took her on her feet, too.
In fact between his ever growing stats, and his regeneration power, he had begun to feel nearly insatiable.
Haley had practically kicked him out to hunt down the wolves just for a rest for her bruised, aching body.
Mason cleared his mind and focused on the forest signs. He raced effortlessly through the trees using his Aspect of the Cheetah power, enhancing his movement and stamina in any natural place. He heard birds warning each other up ahead. He felt the quiet of the animals hiding in their lairs and holes, hoping some predator would pass them by. The pack was close.
He found their tracks not far from the river South of Nassau, a smile crossing his face as he thought of the battle to come. Whatever else was true of Mason in this new world, the deadly peril of mortal combat made him feel truly alive in a way only Haley’s thighs remotely achieved.
He wouldn’t kill the whole pack. It felt…wrong, somehow, perhaps because of his role as a druid. He felt as if the wolves were somehow part of his responsibility, maybe not as individuals, but as a pack. That to spare some part of them was as important as protecting his town. But that didn’t mean the ranger part of him couldn’t cull their pack.
They needed to fear the pink hairless monkeys they found in their woods. Because once they feared them, they’d leave them well alone, and both man and wolf be a lot safer for it.
He refocused on his run, and went straight South.
* * *
Rebecca stared at the settlement walls and tried not to show the terror she felt. Everyone was counting on her.
“What do we do, Becky?”
Darlene—a middle-age crafter-type civilian—stared up with wide, expectant eyes. Then Bill the engineer and Aila the nurse followed suit. It was almost enough to break Rebecca into tears.
They only had one other player—an older Vietnamese warrior, currently lying half dead on the bench. Rebecca kept all her terror and exhaustion behind a thin mask of false bravery, and knelt down at the old man’s side.
“How is he, Aila?”
The young, tanned, black haired city girl looked at her make-shift bandages and threw up her hands. “I’ve stopped the bleeding, but there might be more internally. And if there is I need someplace to operate except I don’t have any tools, and I’m not really a surgeon. I don’t have the skills or powers for that yet. I just don’t know, Becky. I don’t know.”
Rebecca put a hand to the girl’s slender shoulder, trying to offer some strength she no longer had. They’d been attacked almost constantly since leaving the tutorial. The older man—Phuong—was an ex-soldier on old Earth and a very versatile combat class in the great game. Between his offensive skills and Rebecca’s defensive powers they’d managed to barely survive. But just as they’d thought they’d escaped for good on a mysterious boat, some kind of wolf pack had caught them, and Phuong and been bitten several times before they fled.
He’d lost a lot of blood, then he’d lost consciousness. They’d floated for several hours with the current of the river, but now they’d found these huge walls and some kind of settlement, and they had no idea what might be inside. Rebecca had been relying on Phuong’s guidance for damn near everything, and she had no idea what to do.
“They might be other people,” said Bill, ever the optimist.
“Or it might be a giant fortress of murderous monsters!” said Darlene, right on queue.
After everything they’d seen, Rebecca was prone to think the latter. It seemed like everything in this new world was trying to kill them. So she’d used her paddle to slow their progress down the river, trying to buy more time to make an impossible decision. They’d almost certainly be seen if they floated by the settlement. Should they abandon the boat, and maybe watch it for awhile and see what they could find? Should they just turn tail and run while they still could? She looked again at the unconscious Phuong, knowing they couldn’t run anywhere unless they abandoned him. And she wouldn’t do that.
“It’s alright, Becky,” Aila met Rebecca’s eyes and smiled. “We’d already be dead without you. Whatever you decide, that’s just what we’ll do. It’s alright, girl.”
She felt her eyes welling with tears at her new friend’s words. “Alright, y’all,” she said, in her usual Arkansas drawl. “I think we have to take the chance. We ain’t going to last much longer, and Phuong needs rest and maybe more help.”
Her decision made, Rebecca stopped fighting the current and moved to paddle their little fishing boat forward. “Maybe they have food and water,” she added hopefully. “And maybe they can protect…”
“There! There in the trees!” Bill pointed. His class had some kind of vision and inspection power, and he could see in the dark better than everyone else. Becky panicked as she scanned, looking in vain for whatever the man saw but seeing only the endless rows and clusters of forest. Then her heart beat faster as she noticed dark splotches moving in the gloom, their yellow eyes watching as if only curious.
At least three of the same black-furred wolves that nearly killed Phuong stood on the river bank, heads quirked and tails swishing as they stared at the boat.
“It’s alright, ya’ll,” Becky said, hearing her voice waver. “They can’t get us in the water. I think they’re just…”
“No, there!” Bill jabbed his finger like a knife.
Rebecca blinked and saw the man standing on a little hill beyond the shore and the wolves, lit faintly by moonlight and from the settlement. He carried a modern-looking bow strung around his neck, muscled frame obvious even at a distance. His dark eyes watched their boat as well as the wolves, almost passively, and totally without fear—a lion inspecting lambs.
“Oh God,” Darlene grabbed Rebecca’s arm, her face going completely pale. “I can see his aura,” she whispered. “He’s red. Deep red. That means he’s a Player Killer, Becky. He’s killed…” she choked. “He’s killed…until it stopped tracking…”
Rebecca knew civilians could see things players couldn’t. One of those things was an ‘aura’ around all players that showed how violent they were, vaguely how powerful, and how many people they’d killed. She felt her limbs losing strength as her terror swallowed her. She closed her eyes, knowing she’d made a terrible, terrible mistake, that she’d brought them all to their deaths.
Then the wolves who should never have tried to swim to their prey did exactly that. Their furry feet sloshed into the water, and they swam forward like the river was their home as much as the trees. Rebecca felt her vision getting smaller, and smaller, until she was looking through a tunnel. She heard her paddle fall as the water sped towards her.
* * *
Mason watched the tall, grime covered brunette’s eyes roll back. Then he was sprinting and activating Aspect of the Cheetah, the other passengers of the boat screaming as he ran towards them.
He leapt from the shore just as the web-footed, gill-sporting mutant wolves swam into the river, and as the girl fell sideways into the water.
His jumped carried him right over the wolves, nearly all the way to the boat. Mason was a strong swimmer before roboGod gave him post-apocalyptic powers. With a few strokes and kicks, he had the girl in his arms. But he feared if he tried to get her back in the boat he’d just tip the rest in, so he kept her from drowning with one arm, and summoned his innate Ranger’s Claw into his other.
“Come on,” he glared at the wolves as the green, magical blade emerged from the water. “See what happens.”
The first beast snarled and dove, shooting through the water like a dark torpedo, straight at Mason’s gut. He used his Claw like a spear and rammed it into the animal’s chest.
It thrashed as its blood turned the water red. Mason kept himself and the girl above water with just his legs as he stabbed again and again.
[Mutant wolf killed. Experience gained.]
These wolves were smart, and the other two had seen enough. Like some kind of button had been pushed, they stopped snarling, turned, and fled.
The people in the boat were still shouting but it was clear they were civilians and couldn’t or at least didn’t dare interfere. Mason swam to the shore and dragged the girl to the bank before turning her over, a few solid whacks on her back as he held her steady. She soon coughed and wretched, gasping for air as her eyes fluttered and she flailed slightly in panic.
“It’s alright,” he soothed, holding her hair until she steadied. “You’re safe. It’s alright.”
The shouting had stopped, at least. The girl finally turned to meet Mason’s gaze, and his breath damn near caught in his throat. Beneath all that mud and blood the girl was stunning. She had big, brown, almond shaped eyes, and a tanned, freckled face that looked like it had spent most of its years smiling. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen, but her soaked clothes revealed hips you’d probably have to cut her tight jeans off, and athletic legs that might have gone forever if they hadn’t ended in ripped cowboy boots. Her pretty face trembled, and she wrapped her arms around Mason and squeezed his chest like he was a life raft as she wept.
“So they’re not murderous pirates, then?”
Blake’s voice. It came from the direction of Nassau, along with several incompetently loud sets of footsteps.
“We…we got wounded,” the girl managed between sobs. Mason tried to push the girl back a little so he could run and get the rest, but as he did she renewed her efforts to squeeze out his air, burying her face in his shoulder.
“Go get the damn boat,” Mason barked at his brother, then did his best to check the girl for wounds. Her white blouse was filthy and shredded and currently see through enough to make it clear she didn’t have a bra. Mason did his best not to stare at the erect nipples on her small, unbelievably perky breasts. He found some cuts and bruises but nothing major, though he was trying to convince himself she might need a full, hand-touched inspection to be sure.
“I’m alright now,” the girl looked somewhat shy as she released her deathgrip on Mason’s chest. Her accent was Southern though he couldn’t place it, which made her a damn girl next door. She didn’t entirely let go of him, and their faces were only inches apart.
“I’m Mason.” He gestured towards the river. “Those idiots over there trying to catch your boat with sticks is my brother Blake and his minions. But you’re at a settlement now. You’re all safe.”
Water formed in the girl’s eyes as she nodded and gave him a full-toothed, radiant smile. He’d known just from a glance that her face was made for it, and he felt an almost instant urge to murder anyone who tried to hurt her. He had to fight it down, somewhat shocked at his own reaction.
In the background he heard Blake and his men had finally managed to get the boat to the shore, doing their best to convince the folk inside they weren’t all about to get slaughtered.
“What’s your name?” Mason asked to distract the girl.
“Rebecca. Becky,” she said.
God damn. Even her voice was cute. Like she was some innocent little thing and all she needed was protection.
“OK Becky. We’re going to stand now. Ready to try?”
“I think so.”
He scooped her up with one arm behind her back, not at all unhappy when she swayed and sagged against him.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“You’re good. But I think I’ll just carry you.”
He lifted her up to a princess carry, far too strong now to be bothered by the weight. She leaned her head against his shoulder as she groaned, relaxing into his arms.
“My brother will see to your friends,” he assured her as he walked towards Nassau. “Let’s just get you taken care of.”
“Thank you,” she muttered, voice dropping off slightly. “I’m Becky,” she said again, clearly forgetting she’d told him in her half passed-out state.
He smiled, liking her name, and the feel of her in his arms, and just about everything about her you pleased.
“Don’t you worry, Becky,” he said quietly. “I’ve got you now. I’ve got you.”
He kicked open the heavy gate, and walked her straight towards his house.
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A large pack of wolves had taken to chasing their prey to the walls of Nassau. At first Mason thought they just happened to look for food near the settlement, but he’d begun to realize: it was a hunting strategy.
They chased large, fast prey all the way to Nassau to trap it against the stone wall so they could surround and kill it. He was rather impressed, actually, but the dangerous creatures were terrifying the civilians, and would likely kill someone sooner or later. So it was time to teach them it wasn’t worth the risk.
He went out after them alone as dusk fell and the creatures were on the hunt. His senses had been getting clearer and clearer and he could see well enough at night with just a shred of moonlight. Nassau had other players he could have taken as support, but Mason moved faster alone.
In fact he moved much faster. As a Ranger and Druid he felt no fear in the trees—the forest itself seemed to move around him, welcoming and urging him on. It was his home, his protection, his shield.
Unlike the other citizens of Nassau, Mason also regenerated. He had already taken wounds that should have killed an ordinary man, but he always woke up with new scars. He also happened to be a ‘tier 1’ player, which meant he was in the top 10% of power of all players everywhere. He carried titles that meant he’d been the first to reach lvl 5, and level 11, also in the entire world.
This meant more or less he wasn’t afraid of a few wolves. It was a little ego boosting to be sure, but mostly his own power just reminded him how weak the others were.
His brother Blake was the one who wanted to found some kind of city or country or God only knew what. He was, in fact, adamant, despite Mason’s preference to stay in the woods and keep moving. Unfortunately it was also the preference of his assistant/girlfriend/bonded-civilian Haley—a beautiful French Canadian ex-jazz singer, now technically his in the post-apocalypse.
Thinking about her made Mason smile. He’d rescued her from some awful dungeon in a giant tree, the place full of half hyena men called gnolls. She turned him on more than any other woman in his life. And even in the search for his brother he’d been fucking the girl pretty regularly in trees and hammocks…and forest floors.
Now that they were settled, and without much else pressing to do, she’d spent more time on her back than her feet. Well, he sometimes took her on her feet, too.
In fact between his ever growing stats, and his regeneration power, he had begun to feel nearly insatiable.
Haley had practically kicked him out to hunt down the wolves just for a rest for her bruised, aching body.
Mason cleared his mind and focused on the forest signs. He raced effortlessly through the trees using his Aspect of the Cheetah power, enhancing his movement and stamina in any natural place. He heard birds warning each other up ahead. He felt the quiet of the animals hiding in their lairs and holes, hoping some predator would pass them by. The pack was close.
He found their tracks not far from the river South of Nassau, a smile crossing his face as he thought of the battle to come. Whatever else was true of Mason in this new world, the deadly peril of mortal combat made him feel truly alive in a way only Haley’s thighs remotely achieved.
He wouldn’t kill the whole pack. It felt…wrong, somehow, perhaps because of his role as a druid. He felt as if the wolves were somehow part of his responsibility, maybe not as individuals, but as a pack. That to spare some part of them was as important as protecting his town. But that didn’t mean the ranger part of him couldn’t cull their pack.
They needed to fear the pink hairless monkeys they found in their woods. Because once they feared them, they’d leave them well alone, and both man and wolf be a lot safer for it.
He refocused on his run, and went straight South.
* * *
Rebecca stared at the settlement walls and tried not to show the terror she felt. Everyone was counting on her.
“What do we do, Becky?”
Darlene—a middle-age crafter-type civilian—stared up with wide, expectant eyes. Then Bill the engineer and Aila the nurse followed suit. It was almost enough to break Rebecca into tears.
They only had one other player—an older Vietnamese warrior, currently lying half dead on the bench. Rebecca kept all her terror and exhaustion behind a thin mask of false bravery, and knelt down at the old man’s side.
“How is he, Aila?”
The young, tanned, black haired city girl looked at her make-shift bandages and threw up her hands. “I’ve stopped the bleeding, but there might be more internally. And if there is I need someplace to operate except I don’t have any tools, and I’m not really a surgeon. I don’t have the skills or powers for that yet. I just don’t know, Becky. I don’t know.”
Rebecca put a hand to the girl’s slender shoulder, trying to offer some strength she no longer had. They’d been attacked almost constantly since leaving the tutorial. The older man—Phuong—was an ex-soldier on old Earth and a very versatile combat class in the great game. Between his offensive skills and Rebecca’s defensive powers they’d managed to barely survive. But just as they’d thought they’d escaped for good on a mysterious boat, some kind of wolf pack had caught them, and Phuong and been bitten several times before they fled.
He’d lost a lot of blood, then he’d lost consciousness. They’d floated for several hours with the current of the river, but now they’d found these huge walls and some kind of settlement, and they had no idea what might be inside. Rebecca had been relying on Phuong’s guidance for damn near everything, and she had no idea what to do.
“They might be other people,” said Bill, ever the optimist.
“Or it might be a giant fortress of murderous monsters!” said Darlene, right on queue.
After everything they’d seen, Rebecca was prone to think the latter. It seemed like everything in this new world was trying to kill them. So she’d used her paddle to slow their progress down the river, trying to buy more time to make an impossible decision. They’d almost certainly be seen if they floated by the settlement. Should they abandon the boat, and maybe watch it for awhile and see what they could find? Should they just turn tail and run while they still could? She looked again at the unconscious Phuong, knowing they couldn’t run anywhere unless they abandoned him. And she wouldn’t do that.
“It’s alright, Becky,” Aila met Rebecca’s eyes and smiled. “We’d already be dead without you. Whatever you decide, that’s just what we’ll do. It’s alright, girl.”
She felt her eyes welling with tears at her new friend’s words. “Alright, y’all,” she said, in her usual Arkansas drawl. “I think we have to take the chance. We ain’t going to last much longer, and Phuong needs rest and maybe more help.”
Her decision made, Rebecca stopped fighting the current and moved to paddle their little fishing boat forward. “Maybe they have food and water,” she added hopefully. “And maybe they can protect…”
“There! There in the trees!” Bill pointed. His class had some kind of vision and inspection power, and he could see in the dark better than everyone else. Becky panicked as she scanned, looking in vain for whatever the man saw but seeing only the endless rows and clusters of forest. Then her heart beat faster as she noticed dark splotches moving in the gloom, their yellow eyes watching as if only curious.
At least three of the same black-furred wolves that nearly killed Phuong stood on the river bank, heads quirked and tails swishing as they stared at the boat.
“It’s alright, ya’ll,” Becky said, hearing her voice waver. “They can’t get us in the water. I think they’re just…”
“No, there!” Bill jabbed his finger like a knife.
Rebecca blinked and saw the man standing on a little hill beyond the shore and the wolves, lit faintly by moonlight and from the settlement. He carried a modern-looking bow strung around his neck, muscled frame obvious even at a distance. His dark eyes watched their boat as well as the wolves, almost passively, and totally without fear—a lion inspecting lambs.
“Oh God,” Darlene grabbed Rebecca’s arm, her face going completely pale. “I can see his aura,” she whispered. “He’s red. Deep red. That means he’s a Player Killer, Becky. He’s killed…” she choked. “He’s killed…until it stopped tracking…”
Rebecca knew civilians could see things players couldn’t. One of those things was an ‘aura’ around all players that showed how violent they were, vaguely how powerful, and how many people they’d killed. She felt her limbs losing strength as her terror swallowed her. She closed her eyes, knowing she’d made a terrible, terrible mistake, that she’d brought them all to their deaths.
Then the wolves who should never have tried to swim to their prey did exactly that. Their furry feet sloshed into the water, and they swam forward like the river was their home as much as the trees. Rebecca felt her vision getting smaller, and smaller, until she was looking through a tunnel. She heard her paddle fall as the water sped towards her.
* * *
Mason watched the tall, grime covered brunette’s eyes roll back. Then he was sprinting and activating Aspect of the Cheetah, the other passengers of the boat screaming as he ran towards them.
He leapt from the shore just as the web-footed, gill-sporting mutant wolves swam into the river, and as the girl fell sideways into the water.
His jumped carried him right over the wolves, nearly all the way to the boat. Mason was a strong swimmer before roboGod gave him post-apocalyptic powers. With a few strokes and kicks, he had the girl in his arms. But he feared if he tried to get her back in the boat he’d just tip the rest in, so he kept her from drowning with one arm, and summoned his innate Ranger’s Claw into his other.
“Come on,” he glared at the wolves as the green, magical blade emerged from the water. “See what happens.”
The first beast snarled and dove, shooting through the water like a dark torpedo, straight at Mason’s gut. He used his Claw like a spear and rammed it into the animal’s chest.
It thrashed as its blood turned the water red. Mason kept himself and the girl above water with just his legs as he stabbed again and again.
[Mutant wolf killed. Experience gained.]
These wolves were smart, and the other two had seen enough. Like some kind of button had been pushed, they stopped snarling, turned, and fled.
The people in the boat were still shouting but it was clear they were civilians and couldn’t or at least didn’t dare interfere. Mason swam to the shore and dragged the girl to the bank before turning her over, a few solid whacks on her back as he held her steady. She soon coughed and wretched, gasping for air as her eyes fluttered and she flailed slightly in panic.
“It’s alright,” he soothed, holding her hair until she steadied. “You’re safe. It’s alright.”
The shouting had stopped, at least. The girl finally turned to meet Mason’s gaze, and his breath damn near caught in his throat. Beneath all that mud and blood the girl was stunning. She had big, brown, almond shaped eyes, and a tanned, freckled face that looked like it had spent most of its years smiling. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen, but her soaked clothes revealed hips you’d probably have to cut her tight jeans off, and athletic legs that might have gone forever if they hadn’t ended in ripped cowboy boots. Her pretty face trembled, and she wrapped her arms around Mason and squeezed his chest like he was a life raft as she wept.
“So they’re not murderous pirates, then?”
Blake’s voice. It came from the direction of Nassau, along with several incompetently loud sets of footsteps.
“We…we got wounded,” the girl managed between sobs. Mason tried to push the girl back a little so he could run and get the rest, but as he did she renewed her efforts to squeeze out his air, burying her face in his shoulder.
“Go get the damn boat,” Mason barked at his brother, then did his best to check the girl for wounds. Her white blouse was filthy and shredded and currently see through enough to make it clear she didn’t have a bra. Mason did his best not to stare at the erect nipples on her small, unbelievably perky breasts. He found some cuts and bruises but nothing major, though he was trying to convince himself she might need a full, hand-touched inspection to be sure.
“I’m alright now,” the girl looked somewhat shy as she released her deathgrip on Mason’s chest. Her accent was Southern though he couldn’t place it, which made her a damn girl next door. She didn’t entirely let go of him, and their faces were only inches apart.
“I’m Mason.” He gestured towards the river. “Those idiots over there trying to catch your boat with sticks is my brother Blake and his minions. But you’re at a settlement now. You’re all safe.”
Water formed in the girl’s eyes as she nodded and gave him a full-toothed, radiant smile. He’d known just from a glance that her face was made for it, and he felt an almost instant urge to murder anyone who tried to hurt her. He had to fight it down, somewhat shocked at his own reaction.
In the background he heard Blake and his men had finally managed to get the boat to the shore, doing their best to convince the folk inside they weren’t all about to get slaughtered.
“What’s your name?” Mason asked to distract the girl.
“Rebecca. Becky,” she said.
God damn. Even her voice was cute. Like she was some innocent little thing and all she needed was protection.
“OK Becky. We’re going to stand now. Ready to try?”
“I think so.”
He scooped her up with one arm behind her back, not at all unhappy when she swayed and sagged against him.
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“You’re good. But I think I’ll just carry you.”
He lifted her up to a princess carry, far too strong now to be bothered by the weight. She leaned her head against his shoulder as she groaned, relaxing into his arms.
“My brother will see to your friends,” he assured her as he walked towards Nassau. “Let’s just get you taken care of.”
“Thank you,” she muttered, voice dropping off slightly. “I’m Becky,” she said again, clearly forgetting she’d told him in her half passed-out state.
He smiled, liking her name, and the feel of her in his arms, and just about everything about her you pleased.
“Don’t you worry, Becky,” he said quietly. “I’ve got you now. I’ve got you.”
He kicked open the heavy gate, and walked her straight towards his house.
Oh hi there.
If you'd like to get access to images of the girls in this story, additional cut steamy scenes, and 10 additional chapters beyond RR, you can subscribe to my PATREON.
Enjoy!
