Chương 105: 102: Washing Machine

I didn't say anything to the dogs when I joined them, just started walking according to the clerk's directions, but they all jumped to their feet and followed me. They stayed close, even Bear. Jules and Toby rode away on an e-bike. Cody saw them. But did he see them go? Jules and Toby rode away on an e-bike. They rode away on an e-bike. Cody saw them. He saw them arguing with a guy and then they rode away. He never said he saw them ride away. My brain was being unbearably fucking annoying.

All I wanted was for it to shut up. All it would do was say the same words over and over again. First, the mantra that was almost a prayer: Jules and Toby rode away on an e-bike. And then the doubts: But did they? Did they really? I walked, letting my brain cycle like a broken washing machine (not that I could have stopped it), and when we reached the 9 th hole, I walked past it and off the course. I understood what I was looking at immediately. Maybe because I was smelling it, too.

Some cold, practical part of my mind thought good on Texas, dealing with the bodies. How many times had I smelled decomposing flesh and worried about the water supply? A dot in the corner of my vision told me I had a notification. Skill gained: +1 to dissociation. Of course. I blinked the notification away and looked at the scene before me. Several people, all with their backs toward me. One of them—a woman, long blonde hair in a braid down her back—stood about ten feet in front of the others.

Her arms were up, and she was manipulating the ground before her, dirt lifting into a pile on the side of the field. An earth mage. Again, good on Texas. Figuring out their resources and using them appropriately. I bet this wasn't how she'd planned to use her magic, though. Or maybe it was. Maybe she was a funeral director and knew immediately that earth-moving skills would come in handy, like Missy thinking clean water would be invaluable. Zelda whimpered. One of the men turned.

His eyes widened at the sight of the three dogs, and he took a step backward. He was holding a clipboard and a pen as if they were weapons, his shield and sword. He took a breath, grimaced as if he'd forgotten about the smell, and walked toward us, chin held high. Scared human. Riley nudged Bear, then lay down on the path, looking relaxed. He looked away from the approaching man, gazing across the field.

Bear's grumble showed in the swish of her tail, but she ostentatiously turned away from all of us, sitting down facing the other direction. Zelda huffed. No Jujube. Not here. But if Jules was decomposing—I shut that thought down before it could even finish forming and stepped forward to greet the man. He forced a smile.

"Are you here to identify or claim a body? I'm afraid we've already buried several of them, but we do have a list and personal effects. And then..." He gestured toward the sheet-covered line at the side of the field, which I had studiously avoided looking at after my first glimpse.

"I hope not," I said honestly.

"I'm looking for a woman about my age, and her son, who's eight. Juliet Beaumont and Toby Holt." The good part—possibly the best moment of this entire fucking apocalypse, as it were—was when he started shaking his head before I'd half finished. It was the "about my age" that did it. The bad part, though, was when I said Toby's name and he frowned.

"Holt," he muttered.

"I think…" He flipped through pages on his clipboard while I held my breath.

"No Toby," he finally said. I let my breath out explosively.

"But—" He glanced at the sheets.

"Derek? Is he a relative?" Shit.

"Toby's father, yes." I kept my voice very even. I did a good job with it, I thought, but Zelda whimpered by my side again, and I felt her paws on my leg as she stood. I looked down at her. Kisses, she demanded. Kisses. I bent and let her lick my face, feeling the Resilience boost immediately. It didn't change my thinking, but the fear felt farther away. Not gone, just not tying knots in my stomach anymore.

"Thanks," I said to her, giving her ears a rub. I straightened. Clipboard Guy looked appalled. Seriously, he was burying dead bodies, but he looked like he wanted to instruct me in the dangers of dog saliva. It made me want to laugh, which was much nicer than wanting to cry, but I didn't give in to the temptation. It would have felt disrespectful to that line of sheets.

"She has an ability called Emotional Support for the Win, which boosts Resilience." I did a quick [Analyze], just to make sure he was in the System and would understand what I was talking about. Clipboard Guy was Sean O'Donnell, a Level 4 Cleric, so he should. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I see," he replied. He looked at Zelda, then glanced at Riley and Bear, too. It felt as if he wanted to ask questions, but instead he looked back to me.

"Would you be able to identify the body?" I flinched.

"Derek's body?"

"Yes. We've identified him based on the contents of his pockets, but didn't find anyone who knew him prior to the, ah, current disruptions."

"How did he die?" I asked. Was I going to say no based on how awful the body might be? Maybe. A really strong maybe. But justifiably so. I hadn't seen him in years, and I'd never known him well enough to recognize birthmarks or scars. He looked toward the other people and called out, "Liz?" A woman separated herself from the others and joined us.

"Derek Holt," Sean asked her.

"Do we know his cause of death?" She reached for the clipboard, and he passed it to her. She skimmed down the page he was on and sighed.

"Lightning. Last night." She lifted her head and said, "Do you want to claim the body? I should warn you—" I didn't let her finish, shaking my head immediately. No, I did not want Derek's body. What the hell would I do with it? Dump it into a rift? A mass grave in a Texas field at least provided a site for mourners to visit, if and when. Although that said, maybe I should consider the needs of the people stuck with the job of disposing of the bodies.

The woman lifting the dirt had turned around, wiping sweat from her face, and two of the other people were moving to the line of sheets. Should I suggest they put bodies in rifts instead of working so hard to bury them?

"That will make the rifts stronger," Chelsea's voice whispered in my ear. I didn't jump, but I did twitch. Stronger? She answered my thought.

"The body becomes a resource. The mana is absorbed, increasing the rift's mana density. One body won't make much difference, especially a low-level body, but multiple bodies will cause rifts to tier up or overflow sooner." Okay, no more disposing of bodies in rifts. Good to know. Both Sean and Liz were looking at me curiously. They'd seen the twitch. What had we been talking about? Oh, right.

"I'm not able to claim the body, thank you. Identifying him, though. Lightning?" I hadn't seen Derek in at least five years. My question was about whether I'd be able to recognize him. How much damage had the lightning done? Was his body a charred husk? Was his face twisted into a rictus of agony? Liz misunderstood and thought I was asking about how he'd died.

"A lightning mage," she explained.

"Dead now, too, but he took a dozen people with him before he ran out of juice and got decked by a guy with a Brawler class. I wish people would stop making this whole thing harder. The animals are bad enough." She looked at the dogs.

"You're lucky your dogs haven't been exposed."

"Exposed?" I asked.

"This poison in the air." She spiraled her finger around her.

"Mana or whatever they're calling it. The stuff that poisons the animals."

"My dogs have all joined the System. They've got classes and abilities and levels, just like people. Ambient mana won't make them crazed." Liz's jaw dropped open.

"They can do that?"

"Yep." She shoved the clipboard back at Sean and took an eager step forward.

"Is there a way to make it happen? I used to volunteer at a rescue down the road, but I went by a couple days ago and it was empty. Even the cats were gone. I figured the owner must have turned them all loose, but she was gone, too. Not dead, I checked, but I've been so worried. I don't mind fighting off an insane gopher, but the shelter dogs…" Sean snorted.

"They're long gone, Liz. Heather probably packed 'em up and took 'em out somewhere far away from people, so they wouldn't get shot."

"Her truck was still there." Liz's eye roll suggested they'd had this conversation before.

"The cats were gone, too?" I picked out the most interesting piece of information in her speech. Did Ellie know the difference between cats and dogs? Was the sanctuary planet going to be overrun with every animal that had been in a shelter when the integration started? Come to that, did Ellie know the difference between shelters and zoos? It'd be nice if she were rescuing any animal in a cage.

"The place was empty. Not a soul." Sean muttered, "Animals don't have souls." Liz and I exchanged looks. We did not argue with him, but I smiled at her and said, "The multiverse is rescuing shelter dogs. They're sending them to a sanctuary planet along with the whales and dolphins and… a few other species. Elephants, I think."

"They're rescuing the animals?" Sean burst out.

"The animals?! While the human beings suffer?" I opened my mouth, then I closed it again. Somehow I had shot from "You are vulnerable, it's risky to get angry because you could get hurt," to "You are ridiculously strong, it's risky to get angry because you might unintentionally kill someone," with barely a pause in the middle. It seemed unfair. But I didn't need to argue with this guy. This was one I could just walk away from.

"I didn't know Derek well, and I hadn't seen him in years, so I don't know that I could identify his body for you with any certainty," I told Liz.

"But he should have been here with family. His ex, his son. Do you know anything about what might have happened to them?"

"Most of the people who survived the most recent stupidity are still at the resort. They might be there." I shook my head.

"The receptionist said no."

"Best I can suggest is that you ask around," she said.

"Someone might know something." I nodded.

"I'll do that, then. Thank you."

"Good luck," she replied.

"Thank you. You, too." I nodded to both of them, politely to Sean, with a smile to Liz, and headed back to the resort with the dogs. Derek was dead. Should I have looked at his body? When I found Jules—and I would find Jules—I'd have to tell her he was probably dead, probably buried in a mass grave in Texas, and that I'd passed on the chance to be absolutely sure. But I hadn't seen him in years. It felt like a valid excuse. And… Derek was dead.

He wasn't a friend, more friend-adjacent, but he was the first person I'd known before the System who hadn't survived it. Well, the first person I knew about. There could be dozens of others by now. I didn't know how I was supposed to feel. I cared that Toby had lost his father. I cared that I was going to have to tell Jules. I cared that this news might hurt them. If I were completely honest with myself, though, I'd have to admit that I didn't give a damn about Derek. It was sad, but it wasn't my grief to carry.

And I was going to let it go. Under my breath, I said, "Good-bye, Derek. If there's an afterlife, I hope you get a good one." Back to my washing machine: Jules and Toby left on an e-bike. They didn't die. So where did they go? Cody was out in front of the hotel, pacing along the forecourt like a driver in a hurry waiting for a slow valet. His face lit up when he saw us.

"There you are! I was afraid I might have missed you." Was he going to ask me to stick around and help his partner and kid enter the System, too? Maybe even the dog? I truly hoped not because I didn't have that kind of time.

"I found someone who overheard them arguing. Your friend and the guy. She says your friend said she was taking the kid and heading home and he could follow or not, up to him." He beamed at me, looking delighted with himself. Deservedly so. That was awesome news, and I was grateful to him for asking around for me. But what the hell, Jules? Home had to be 1500 miles away. Did she really think she was going to make it there on an e-bike?

She'd have to cross West Texas, which was challenging enough when you were in an air-conditioned car traveling 80 miles per hour. But it was Jules. Of course she thought she could do the impossible.