CHAPTER 14 — Bad Men With Good Guns
ELION — POV
The sun was dipping behind the buildings when we left the corpse of the Variant behind.
The streets still looked wrong—too empty, too quiet, too stripped of life. Trash fluttered like ghosts across the cracked pavement. A distant siren wailed somewhere far off, then died mid-tone.
Beside me, Alexiy walked with her shoulders tight, fingers trembling slightly each time her eyes flicked toward me.
Not fear.
Something heavier.
Something that had started back in the pharmacy when I killed the Variant with a single burst of Frostwill.
But she didn't speak about it.
And I didn't bring it up. I could focus on Frostwill later, now came survival. I kept my focus up as we careful made out way to the gun store.
We moved in silence, moving through alleys lined with dumpsters and abandoned cars.
The gun store was still about a 45-minute walk away.
Forty-five minutes in the apocalypse was an eternity.
And I didn't like the way the air felt.
Danger Sense wasn't screaming, but it wasn't quiet either. It was like being watched from angles I couldn't pinpoint. I couldn't trust skills to be invincible. After all that variant zombie managed to stay hidden in the building without my skill noticing.
"Stay close," I murmured.
"I am," she whispered back, voice small.
Every few blocks, a lone zombie or two staggered out. We dispatched them quickly—no flare of magic, no big moves. Just the bat and telekinesis. A Lightning Bolt or two from her. It was quiet, clean, controlled.
But the farther we walked, the more signs of humans we noticed.
Burned piles of trash.
Spray-painted arrows pointing to shelter.
Empty campsites.
Bloodstains that weren't zombie-black…but human red.
"More people survived here," Alexiy said softly.
"People surviving doesn't make it safer," I replied.
"You think… everyone is dangerous?"
"No," I said. "But enough are."
She went quiet.
But then—
"There has to be someone good left," she said, almost to herself. "Someone like my mom. Or families like ours. Or you."
Good people?
The thought almost made me laugh.
"'Good people panic'," I said. "'Good people' hesitate. 'Good people' freeze. They die first."
She frowned at me.
"And what about… what about someone like you?" she asked carefully. "You helped me. You brought me home. You protected us."
"It's because I'm not 'good' that I saved you, Alexiy let me say this right now. You already know I'm not a Hero. why? it's because I'm just some 'Insane Bastard'." I said plainly. "Actually now that I have mana I guess I'm an 'Insane Bastard' with some power, But all that means is I'm dangerous."
I turned to see Alexiy out of the corner of my eye. I was curious about what kind of expression she was making. I decided to tell her truth. While I have issues, "Baggage" if you will. She deserved to know who I was if she decide to come with me.
Not that I wanted to keep a hidden mask all the time.
"Then why?" she whispered. Her face was mix of shock and confusion. "Why did you save me? Give me and my family skills?"
I didn't answer.
Because deep down, I wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer. It was simple. I didn't want just plain red orbs. I knew— call it intuition or a gut feeling. But I KNEW that you could only have so many skills. and not all skills are equal. So why would I want what would most likely be a useless skill. Or at least it would be wasted on me since I can't practice 100 different skills at the same time.
So I thought I would give them her family to create a sense of debt and gratitude and to make them stronger and get more information out of the skills. It was a purely selfish reason. Of course I don't want Alexiy's family to die. I may be insane but I'm not a psychopath... it was simply killing two birds with one stone.
Before I could think of something to say that would explain my thoughts, the decision was taken from me—
A voice called out.
"—Hey! Hey! HELP!"
We both froze.
A man stumbled out from behind an overturned Honda. He was in his early twenties. Filthy, he looked pale and was breathing hard like he'd been running for hours. But he didn't seem injured.
He limped heavily, dragging one leg, but I could tell it was fake. The way he still walked with normal gait without a flinch of pain on his face was another sign that something was not what it seemed.
"Please—oh god, thank god—people—actual people—"
Alexiy immediately stepped forward.
"Are you okay!? Are you hurt?"
"Alexiy," I said sharply.
She hesitated—but only for a heartbeat—before she kept moving toward him.
Of course she did.
The man stumbled closer, gripping the car for balance.
"I lost my group— my sister— my friend— they were eaten alive right in front of—"
He began crying. covering his face with his hands as he hunched over.
Like an actor reading from a script. But he's not winning any awards any time soon.
Danger Sense ticked.
Not loudly.
Not enough to act.
Just enough to tell me something was off.
"Stop," I said, stepping forward.
The man flinched. "I—I'm not—please, don't hurt me—"
Alexiy turned to me, pleading.
"Elion, he's hurt. We can't just leave him."
I didn't move.
I didn't blink.
"We don't know anything about him," I said.
She bit her lip. "But—"
The man stumbled right into her reach.
Then he moved faster than he had any right to.
He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanked her upright—
—and pressed a kitchen knife to her throat.
Everything froze.
Her breath caught.
He grinned a jagged grin.
"Drop your bag," he hissed at me. "Right now."
Alexiy's fingers trembled against his arm. Her entire body stiffened with terror.
"Elion—" she choked.
My pulse didn't spike. My breathing didn't change. My muscles didn't tense. My mana didn't flare.
I simply looked at him.
And he froze.
For a split second, he actually looked uneasy.
"Drop it!" he shouted louder, pressing the blade harder. "I said—"
"Let her go," I said.
My voice was cold. Flat.
Final.
He panicked.
"I WILL KILL HER—"
CRACK.
His neck snapped sideways like a dry twig. As my telekinesis twisted head a full 180 degrees.
His fingers went slack.
The knife fell.
He dropped to the ground in a boneless heap.
Dead before he even registered what happened.
Alexiy stumbled forward with a small, broken gasp and fell against me.
Her whole body shivered violently.
I mood forward and caught her gently, pulling her against my chest.
"Shh," I murmured. "It's over."
Her fingers clutched my shirt tightly. I wrapped my arms around her pulling her in close enough to feel her warm body heat pressed against me.
"He—he almost—" she whimpered.
"But he didn't," I said softly. "You're safe." I patted her head as I held her tighter.
She pressed her face against my shoulder, shaking harder.
"I—I thought—" she whispered, voice cracking.
"It's okay," I murmured. "I'm here."
She clung to me like she'd drown if she let go. I could feel my chest getting wet but I kept petting her hair as I held her close. whispering that "I'm here" and "You're safe" just trying to comfort her after a traumatic incident.
Eventually she stopped cry and just stood there still wrapped around me and holding on like she wound't let go for the life of her.
I didn't pry her off.
Didn't speak.
Just held her while her breathing slowed, while her tremors quieted, while the shock bled out.
After a long moment, she pulled back slightly—eyes red, face flushed.
"Elion…" she whispered. "Thank you."
I brushed her hair behind her ear.
"We need to move," I said calmly.
She nodded, still shaky, but stronger than before.
"I'm okay," she whispered. "Let's go."
"Hold on." I said and went to the mans corpse. I didn't' feel guilty. I didn't feel sad or empty or worried about the "Monster I'm turning into." because I knew I was already a monster in human skin. The only reason I never killed him before was becuse I knew I wouldn't be able to get away with it... but now that there are no consequences killing him is something I have to. If he's still alive that is.
As my thoughts drift to to my father I finish examining the mans corpse. nothing. No skill orbs, no food, only the knife. It seemed like eh might've actually been separated from his group like his said and went insane after seeing what he was.
I can't blame him, but ti was his weakness that killed him. That's why I refuse to be weak and to let someone else dictate my life. As I hardened my resolve to get stronger to not end up dead like the nameless bastard I just killed and would forget about in a day.
My first kill, and I won't even remember his face in a month.
With my thoughts straying we made our way to the gun store.
**************************
The industrial district was eerily silent.
Tall warehouses. Chain-link fences. No zombies. No people.
Just a strange, tense emptiness.
Then the sign came into view. it was a Bald Eagle with a rifle clutched in it's claws.
EAGLE ARMORY — BUY, SELL, TRADE
Of course this is a gun store. I thought with a smirk, as I examined it more closely.
The windows were intact.
The metal shutters were down.
The place looked untouched.
Alexiy frowned. "How…? Everywhere else was looted."
"Because someone's inside," I said.
She stiffened. "You think they're… friendly?"
"Doubt it."
She swallowed.
I walked up to the shutter and knocked—hard.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
She jumped.
"What are you doing!?"
"Wait," I said.
She stared at me like I was insane.
"You're supposed to be subtle!"
"This is subtle."
"No it isn't!"
But then—
Footsteps.
Slow. Heavy. Approaching the door from the inside.
Someone spoke behind the metal:
"Who the hell is that?"
I raised my voice.
"Survivors," I called. "Looking to trade food and meds for guns and ammo."
Silence.
Then—
A series of locks clicked open.
The door creaked.
A hand shot out and grabbed both of us by the arms.
"Move," the voice demanded.
We were yanked inside.
The door slammed behind us.
As my eyes adjusted to the dark of the inside of the store my first thought was:
'Welcome to Problem Central'
Five men circled us instantly, guns raised.
Shotguns. Rifles. Pistols.
A full arsenal aimed at our heads.
The one who dragged us inside locked the door behind us with practiced ease.
Alexiy's breath hitched. Her fingers twitched toward me instinctively. as she grabbed my hand and squeezed.
I didn't move.
My eyes scanned the room.
The floor was clean. Supplies stacked neatly in boxes. Ammo crates everywhere.
And at the center—sitting on a metal chair like he was presiding over a throne room—
was a man in a leather jacket, legs spread wide, boots up on a table.
A terrified girl—maybe 20—sat on his lap, her wrists bound with zip ties.
Her eyes were hollow.
Dead.
The man smirked at us.
"Well, well…" he drawled. "Look what wandered into my store."
Alexiy tensed beside me.
I stared at him.
Then sighed.
"…Great," I muttered. "A wannabe warlord."
Every gun in the room cocked toward me at once.
The boss leaned forward, grin growing wider.
"Oh, this is gonna be fun."