Rowan exited the building, stepping slowly and slightly wobbling. When he accepted the core quest, he had no idea the county would turn into a sort of Liechtenstein, with minimalistic toilets that were the most un-American things he had ever seen.

  "Wait!" It was Isla, shouting and running after him.

  "What?" Rowan asked curtly, a tone just a hair width from being abrupt. He had hoped to be alone for a while.

  "If you chose to leave, don't say goodbye… It will break Lizzie’s heart… She prays for a daddy every day… I'll bring you your stuff," Isla said.

  "Honestly, I'm not yet decided," Rowan said, a pang of sadness clenching his heart for a second. The little girl's funny image briefly flashed before his eyes. He liked kids a lot and planned, in a pipe dream of his own, to have his own at some point in time… with the proper gal, of course. The ONE. Which he hadn’t been able to meet yet. “I mean… I have a good job, but…”

  “There’s an Apocalypse out there…”

  “And a government who nuked us… Is there some nice place to hike or relax around here?”

  "I’ll take you to a spot I like," Isla opened the police car's door, offering him a front seat this time. “It’s quiet and isolated.”

  "Can I drive?" he asked, grinning. He always wished to drive a police car at full speed with sirens roaring.

  "Don't push your luck," she frowned at him.

  "Where are we going?" Rowan asked ten minutes later when they entered the hills.

  "To my parents’ mountain lodge. My folks have a big chunk of land up there."

  "Nice," he nodded.

  "Would be if they used their heads to make some money. There's a scout summer camp that wants to rent it long term, but my folks say kids running around would scare the protected species."

  "What protected species?"

  "There are none, but who knows, there might be someday, my folks said. It's just how they are."

  Isla was sulking, obviously, and he didn't push the subject. Family issues were a delicate matter. They had entered a private dirt road, giving to a small wooden lodge, and she parked aside it. All around was a large meadow, quite pretty, and in the back forest. The front view gave to the valley, and the hills looked inviting.

  “Sit down,” Isla gestured toward a bench on the porch. “Coffee?”

  “That would be great… Do you have something to eat? I had no breakfast.”

  “That’s my fault, I suppose… Give me a second.”

  She opened the door with a key hidden on a beam and went inside. A minute later, she offered Rowan a few Musli bars, adding a black coffee after five more. They sat silently for a while, and Rowan felt grateful for the lack of conversation. Nevertheless, despite trying his best to reach a decision, his mind was still cluttered with too many thoughts.

  “Fuck,” she nodded after a while, mirroring his feelings. “An alien Apocalypse… ”

  Rowan laughed. “Yeah… At least, this is a nice place to be caught in one…”

  "Do you want to be left alone?” Isla asked.

  “Not really,” Rowan confessed. His desire for solitude was gone. Her presence was pleasant, and not only because the woman was pretty. She somehow had an aura of dependableness and reliability. He wished to start a conversation, but he was at a loss for words, the worries about his new situation buzzing in his mind like a cloud of flies. Nevertheless, even just sitting there felt good.

  “How about a hike?” Isla proposed after a few minutes of mutual silence. “There’s a trail behind the property. Or we can spar if you want… Thomas told me you're a good fighter. I'm into MMA."

  The offer picked Rowan’s interest. He liked sparing and did it in various sports, mostly boxing and wrestling. "I suppose some training would be good, considering the Apocalypse and everything. Do you have some protection gear?"

  "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

  "Haha… you wish…" His supposedly sarcastic laugh faded as the worrying blue text appeared.

  Quest: Hand to Hand Combat Training

  Isla Culloden won multiple National martial arts championships. Spar with her to hone your martial skills. Reward: +1 Lvl. +1 AP

  "Ouch!" he jerked. Isla had flickered him in the forehead.

  "Are you sleeping or what?"

  "Sorry, I was reading a quest. Do you have—”

  “Yeah, I have one as well. I’m supposed to teach you how to cope with a superior adversary. Let's go for it."

  They walked to the middle of the meadow. Rowan took a step back and put himself in a boxing stance. A second later, after dashing forward with inhuman speed, Isla kicked him behind the right knee, making him fall on the left one, before retreating at a safe distance, dancing around him so fast he barely could follow.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  "You're slow," she taunted him.

  "Gloves off.” Plunging, Rowan grabbed Isla's legs, making her fall to the ground, and followed with a submission attempt. He got an elbow in the face but persisted. To his disappointment, she twisted her body and pushed him away, jumping up on her feet with the power of her core muscles.

  “You did some wrestling," she said.

  "Yep. Amateur level.”

  "Bad news. The amateur level won't cut it anymore.” Grinning, Isla spun and threw a heel into his arm, and that was because he had managed to protect his ribs at the last moment. Rowan retreated, but it was not enough. She closed the distance and hit him in the jaw with two jabs.

  “Fuuck…” Rowan wailed, feeling gums bleeding.

  “You yield?" Isla taunted, dancing back with boxing steps.

  “Yield?” Rowan sneered, spitting on the grass. “I just got started.”

  The Quest Hand-to-Hand Combat Training has upgraded to Combat Training. In an Apocalypse, monsters or villains won’t give you any quarter. Make the scenario as realistic as possible.

  “That’s more like it,” Rowan gloated. There was a stool on the porch, and he rushed to pick it up. Stools were his favorite weapons in bar fights, as one could both defend and attack using them. “Now let’s see how you— Fuck!”

  A gunshot made the stool fly away from his hands, showering his face with splinters.

  "As realistic as possible, right?" Isla smirked. While Rowan had busied to retrieve the stool, she had recovered a revolver from the car. "You know what? Hide in the forest, and I’ll chase you. You win if I don’t hit you before my bullets are out. I’ll count down from ten. Ten…"

  "Are you mad?" Rowan yelled.

  "Relax, it’s my other gun. Rubber bullets. Nine… At zero, I shoot. Eight… Seven…"

  “Hey! That’s insane!”

  [Cory]: Run! She will shoot you.

  "Shit!" There was no other choice but to run into the woods, which he did as fast as possible. A gunshot followed the bullet whistling above, missing him about an inch.

  [Cory]: We have a problem!

  "You think so? She's crazy!" Rowan yelled.

  [Cory]: No, she thinks you're immune to bullets because of the Perk you have. She Inspected you a couple of times today. She doesn't realize it works only in town. However, I estimate you would survive a direct hit from a rubber bullet as long as you avoid being hit in the head.

  “Don’t tell me, tell her!”

  [Cory]: ATM, my telepathic communications are restricted to you. Do you wish me to send her an email?

  "Fuck." There was only one reason Rowan didn’t call the Core an idiot, and that was because the voice sounded like a girl, and he was a gentleman. “Call off the quest!”

  [Cory]: It’s not me who gave the quest; it’s the System. I’m only the AI assistant of this County. Quests are a complex—

  “Not now!”

  "You can run, but you can't hide!" Isla shouted.

  Rowan darted onward, trying to go over a ridge to have some cover. Another projectile whizzed over his head. That was the third shot. The question was how many more bullets Isla had. Most revolvers had six shots, but some types had less or more.

  Beam me up or something.

  [Cory]: Teleportation of friendly targets is momentarily blocked for safety reasons.

  Why?

  [Cory]: Teleportation is just a word chosen so you understand. What is available now is a warp wave that sends hostiles away.—50% fatality rate—and the detritus disposal.

  “Isla, stop! My bullet resistance Perk doesn't work here!” Rowan yelled.

  “You think you can trick me?” another bullet and a scream arrived back. "Take it seriously."

  Isla was gaining on him, undoubtedly because she knew the terrain. And Rowan had never been a fan of running. Plunging in a ravine, he tried to turn back on his tracks, hoping to trick Isla into going farther into the woods while he would get back to the car. It didn't work, only offering her a shorter path to him. Isla’s running steps approached fast.

  Changing direction suddenly, he grabbed a tree, used it as a pivot, and ran at the incoming Isla at full speed. It surprised her; she missed her fifth shot, and they grappled, each trying to get enough leverage to throw the other on the ground. Grabbing Isla’s right hand and the gun, Rowan clung on, ignoring the fists she abundantly gifted him, trying to move the weapon's sights down. Then, they paused, exhausted, looking eye to eye, the revolver between them, his hands on the barrel, hers on the grip.

  Rowan smiled. “And yet we both reached for the gun,” he sang with a creaky voice.

  That made her jerk. Her index slipped, and she pressed the trigger because Rowan squeezed her hands over hers, knowing now it was the gun’s last bullet and it was best to be fired while he was in control. The shot hit the ground but hit a rock and ricocheted up, hitting Rowan in the shoulder. A sharp pain went through his body. He stepped backward, dazed.

  "Oh my God!" Isla screamed, covering her mouth with both her hands, letting the gun fall to the ground. "You're hurt!"

  "I tried to tell you my Perk doesn't work out of town…” he moaned.

  "Sorry," she yelled, pulling his shirt apart to reveal the wound. It was a bad bruise, and the projectile had lodged itself half an inch in the flesh, breaking the skin. Hitting the rock had revealed the metal pellet inside the rubber, and that had caused the damage. Isla pulled the object out, slamming a handkerchief over the cut. "We need to stop the bleeding… Let’s get back to the lodge, I have a first aid kit in the car."

  [Cory]: It's just a flesh wound. Your regen is already healing it. It will be repaired in an hour or less. She won the match, but it was by pure luck.

  "It's just a flesh wound," Rowan repeated the AI's words.

  "I’m really sorry!" Isla kneaded her hands, her face creased in an apologetic expression."It's the first time I've shot someone…"

  “Not much crime going around here, huh?”

  “I'm so sorry… Oh, my God!" she gasped. “Now I shot you, and yesterday, I tased you… You must think I’m a monster…”

  "Nah… Just the average happy-trigger American police officer. It's OK," he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, then leaned down to pick her gun from the ground, handing it back.

  They returned to the lodge in silence, and they entered the cabin. The interior was cozy and a bit soppy but nice, with many patchwork blankets and dried flower arrangements. Isla washed his wound with sterile water, abundantly pouring iodine afterward and dressing it with a gauze so bit it could have patched up the Titanic. Finally, they settled on the porch with a cup of fresh coffee in hand and a box of stale cookies on the table. The view over the hills was beautiful, and a part of the town could be seen too. It was… homely…

  “I accept to be a count,” Rowan said suddenly.

  “Really?” Isla widened her eyes. “After all I did to you?"

  “Nah… It was fun,” he shrugged. “I decided I like it here.”

  Rowan Allinder is now the permanent Count of Randolph County. To consult your charter—aka Constitution—ask your AI assistant.

  [Cory]: I'm very happy you said yes. I have a feeling we'll do great things together. I’m sending SMSs and emails around the County to announce the good news.

  Rowan shrugged. If there’s an Apocalypse, at least I’ll confront it on my terms.

  "I'm… glad you said yes," Isla replicated the AI's words. "I'll try to help you to the best of my abilities."

  "Sure… You can start by giving me the car’s keys. My first Count proclamation is this: I am now honorary police chief and have the right to drive all police cars at full speed, with sirens on.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Isla frowned at him.

  Rowan didn’t reply but forwarded his hand, waiting. After a few seconds, Isla surrendered and put the keys into his palm.