The sky was overcast this tired day and Arc, Jack, and Julie rumbled along the road in the pickup truck. Arc had been keeping a close eye on the fuel metre as he drove, noting that it was now sitting just above half of what it was when they departed from Cliff Town. The trio would be at the city at any moment and Lancelot’s estimation of having enough to get to New Carlington and back, plus some extra, looked to be right on the money.

  “Would you look at that…” uttered Jack in awe as they reached the top of a hill and Arc slowed the truck to a halt. Julie clutched her brother’s arm and gasped, marvelling at the sight before her.

  Over the concrete bridge suspended above the barren river, a dozen towering skyscrapers stood tall above the land, watching over the lesser buildings and the other half dozen skyscrapers which had collapsed decades ago. The paintwork had been largely stripped away and what may once have been roads, squares, and parks was now covered in a thin layer of sand with the occasional remnant of the old world creeping through from underneath, but what was had no chance of reemerging anytime soon.

  A large metal frame sat near the edge of the city with the concrete bricks beneath still maintaining small scraps of white paint. Jack had once seen a structure like this in an old book and he knew it immediately from its ovular shape; it was a stadium. A sporting arena where humans competed, striving to be the best in all manner of athletic competitions.

  New Carlington was a sight of great beauty and great tragedy. A testament to both a magnificent achievement of human engineering and the death that was brought about during the fall. The Arcanaclysm had torn not just the world asunder, but the population too. How many bones were buried in the rubble left behind after Maestria’s greatest disaster? How many bones were obliterated entirely, leaving not as much as a fragment of the people who once were.

  “Look upon this place, but be aware of what our approach means,” said Arc. “There was no shortage of death in the before times, but there is plenty to go around now. If you want to see monsters, the ruins of a city is where you would go. Even I have no idea what lurks in the shadows of New Carlington.”

  “It looks quiet,” said Julie.

  “It always does from a distance. It’s only when we walk through it that we’ll see the horrors it truly holds. Never take your hand off your guns, alright?”

  “Alright,” said the twins.

  “We’ll head down to the bridge and then walk through the city on foot. Vehicles were once the way to travel in the cities, but not anymore. We need maximum manoeuvrability and this cumbersome hunk of metal won’t grant us that.”

  “The plan remains the same?” asked Julie.

  “If we find the bodies of two fingers of the Right Hand, we turn tail and get the hell out of the city.”

  “I still hate the plan,” said Jack heavily.

  “I know you think it feels like giving up,” said Arc sympathetically. “And in a sense, you’re right, but two dead means the others are likely dead too. Sometimes you have to work with probabilities even if it leaves a foul taste in your mouth.”

  Jack did not respond and Arc pressed the pedal, following the sorry excuse for a road until he reached the bridge. Before stopping, he turned the truck around so that it faced the hill. This would make for an easier escape should they be chased from the city by a horde of monsters or some sort of pursuing behemoth.

  The trio climbed out and emptied the few possessions they wouldn’t need into the front of the truck and stowing them underneath the seats. As they turned towards the bridge, something caught the corner of Arc’s eye and his heart sank. In the dried-up riverbed lay an overturned pickup truck; one suspiciously similar in model to the one not even three feet behind him.

  “Oh no,” gasped Julie, clasping a hand to her mouth while her gun-hand fell limply by her side.

  “Chrysalis Carrier,” said Jack, grimacing. “Watch over me.”

  “I can do it,” said Arc, moving towards the edge of the river, but Jack ran in front of him.

  “No. I want to be useful.”

  Arc held up his hands in acceptance and then gestured towards the river bed. Jack sat down by the edge and lowered himself down. He skidded down the slope and ran several yards along before crouching low to inspect the truck. He lay flat on his stomach, looking through the broken windows and then reached a hand inside. He pulled out a small radio and then held it up. The young man knew better than to call out for he had no idea what else was lurking close by. Instead, he scrambled back up to the ledge, pulled himself free of the river bed, and hurried over to Arc and Julie who stood by the bridge.

  “No bodies, no blood,” said Jack, handing Arc the radio. “There was a bag inside too, but it was empty.”

  Arc flicking a switch on the side of the radio turning it on. It started buzzing faintly. It was not quite a static, more of a hum that told him the radio was working and that there was another one out there somewhere within range. That range, however, could have been days away if the Right Hand had been able to reach Cliff Town from here.

  “Hello?” said Arc while pressing a large button on the side of the radio. “My name is Arc the Hawk and I’m looking for the Right Hand of Obsidian. Over.”

  “Should you say your name?” asked Jack, looking around nervously. “We don’t know who’s on the other end of this thing.”

  “A name is a mark of trust. If I don’t identify myself, then I could be anyone.”

  “You still could be anyone.”

  “Granted, but it’s a necessary mark of respect.”

  The trio waited for a minute before Arc repeated the message, but no response came. The green light indicated to Arc that there was enough battery power left for him to keep the radio on, so he stashed it in his jacket pocket just in case he received a transmission while wandering through the city.

  “Nothing else for it then,” he said, taking his first step onto the bridge. He strolled forward with the Golden Hawk in-hand. “Come on, my brave apprentices. Let us venture into the dragon’s lair and rescue the captives.”

  Jack and Julie followed, holding their handguns in both hands while looking around fervently. There were too many buildings nearby for them to get a clear view of anything other than sand and stone. Every alley led to potential danger; every doorway concealed a phantom threat. They were truly terrified, but they swallowed their fear and kept walking. This was the life they signed up for when they asked to accompany Arc. The twins were determined to prove to him beyond a shadow of a doubt that they had what it took to not just survive, but to contribute.

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  Arc led the way forward, leaving footprints in the sand. He could feel the hard surface of the road with each step. The sand was not that deep here, but he could see much larger piles of it resting against buildings and a few heaps scattered intermittently along the path. He wasn’t sure where to even start the search, even though he had given it many hours of thoughts. He had tried to put himself into the scavenger’s mindset, thinking about what he would prioritise first, but the problem was that there were too many options to choose from. Canned food, medicine, weaponry, technology. So many things of these things would be useful in Cliff Town and the Right Hand were seeking all of them, but with their vehicle upended and likely unfixable, they had no means of transporting anything large.

  “We’ll start with ammo,” he said to Jack and Julie, finally making a decision. “The map said there’s a gun shop on Eagle Avenue. It should be only a few streets away.”

  “Fourth street on our left and then take a right,” said Julie. As mind-numbing as she found it, she had studied the map more thoroughly than any of them during the long journey to New Carlington and retained the finer details well. The further into the city, the less she knew and the changed landscape from when the map was created would have sealed off a few pathways, but she had wanted to make sure her, Jack, and Arc could escape the city as quickly as they could should the worst come to pass.

  Arc smiled at her proudly. “Good,” he said. “You’ll keep us right, Julie.”

  Following Julie’s directions, Arc led them to a narrow street flanked by large apartment blocks on either side. Their original inhabitants had long since died or fled, leaving them staring down ominously at the travellers. A short way down the street lay a dishevelled shop with broken shutter that was halfway thrown up.

  “Sergeant Star’s Munitions,” said Arc, surveying it. He peered inside the dark window where the empty weapon racks lay. “It’s mostly ransacked. With any luck, it’ll be the Right Hand that have visited it most recently and they’ll have left some indication of their presence.”

  “I’ll stand on guard,” said Jack, leaning against the wall beside the door so he could see as much of the street as possible. His eyes darted up to the windows, many of which were broken, wondering if there was anything watching him from the eerie comfort of the apartments.

  “No, we stick together,” said Arc. “I appreciate your willingness to volunteer, Jacky Boy, but if something scoops you up before you have the chance to call out, I’m afraid it would be a death sentence.”

  “Scoops me up?” asked Jack, his eyes widening as he thought about what sort of creature could do such a thing. In his mind, whatever monsters lurked in the city were strong, but slow and lumbering. “Alright, yes. Let’s stick together.”

  Arc pushed open the door and a small bell rang above his head. He slinked inside with Jack following. Julie had a minor panic as she looked over her shoulder, fearing that she had seen a shadow, but it was just a bird flying past and landing on a broken balcony railing across the street.

  The inside of the gun shop was in a sorry state. The shelves were falling apart, largely stripped of anything useful with only the empty ammo boxes and minor trinkets like keyrings and belts remaining. The glass of the weapon cabinets had been smashed to pieces except for a single large one that had been heavily beaten and bore the mark of a couple of bullet impacts, but it remained unshattered. Instead, someone had found a key and opened it using that, following which they had stripped it bare.

  Arc plodded across the strewn floor, keeping low and looking for any sign of the Right Hand. Jack stood and watched from the window, worried that something would follow them inside. At least from this side of the glass, he wouldn’t be easily scooped up. Julie kept close to Arc with her hands firmly wrapped around the handle of her gun. She was trembling, but she did not complain, knowing that she was being depended on and had to keep her cool. She continually told herself that it was just like in Colt’s factory base; another rescue mission with unknown hostiles. Things would be just fine if she followed Arc’s lead.

  “Hello there,” said Arc, looking pleased. He put his arm up against a cabinet and shoved it a few inches to the side before picking something up. He held up a box to Julie and shook it. “Unclaimed revolver rounds. Hopefully a sign of things to come.”

  “At least this trip wasn’t wasted,” said Jack sarcastically from over by the window. He continued squinting out while looking up and down the street.

  “Take the good when it comes,” said Arc with a shrug before getting back to his search.

  After spending a few more minutes scouring the shop floor, the back rooms, and a small bedroom upstairs, Arc had found a few handgun bullets that he split amongst the twins, a torch—without batteries—that he gave to Julie, and slightly rusty multi-tool that he gave to Jack. The young man remarked without sarcasm that the trip was indeed worthwhile upon receiving his scavenged gift.

  “Alright,” said Arc, heading for the door. “No sign of Obsidian’s crew here, so we’ll move along to our next stop.”

  “Which is where?” asked Julie, quickly whipping out the map and scanning it to refresh her memory.

  “You tell me, scout. Where do you think is close by that may prove fruitful?”

  “There’s a supermarket a few streets away,” said Julie, folding the map back up and putting it in her backpack. “I can’t think of a better place to search for food than there.”

  “Works for me.”

  Arc walked out the door with the twins following and started walking down the street. His head suddenly jerked to the right, looking up to where the bird Julie had spied sat watching.

  “Shit,” he said, whipping out his revolver and aiming at the creature that batted its wings and took flight. Arc shot at it three times and the third shot hit it in the wing, sending it spiralling to the ground. It landed with a thump in a pile of sand and slid onto the road.

  “Why did you shoot the bird?” asked Julie, looking around. She was terrified that something would have heard the gunshots. They were far from subtle, having echoed throughout the quiet street.

  “It’s not a bird,” said Arc, running towards it and beckoning the twins to follow.

  Upon seeing the creature up close, the twins recoiled. From a distance, it had indeed looked like a bird. It had a rounded brown body and spindly feet with two wings protruding from its sides, but it hadn’t a single feather, nor did it have a head, unless you counted its body as its head. For within its body sat an eyeball, staring out lifelessly at Arc who was kneeling beside it. He prodded it with his gun and then picked it up by one of its wings.

  “An eye fiend,” he said, looking up and down the street, his keen eyes darting to every nook and cranny where another could have been hiding.

  “What’s an eye fiend?” asked Jack, looking upon the little beast with disgust.

  “An aberration,” said Arc, dropping the creature on the ground and shoving sand over it to hide its corpse. “A spy for a much greater and far more deadly creature. Keep your wits about you, kids, because there will be more of these in the city. If we see its master, we run and don’t look back, regardless of whether or not we find the Right Hand.”

  Jack gulped. “Master?”

  “An Eye of Gra’shiya. It’s a malevolent being created and named after one of the forgotten gods of the world.”

  “Gra’shiya?”

  “That’s right. Picture this little guy, expand him fiftyfold and give him a whole host of magical powers that you’d rather not be on the receiving end of. His minion saw us and no doubt telepathically passed the message back to its master.”

  “You’ve fought one before?”

  “No. But I knew a few who tried and didn’t live to tell the tale. They’re among the most deadly beings you can imagine and they’re no mindless beast. They’re intelligent; very intelligent. Killing one of them is a tall order, I assure you.”

  Julie was shaking almost uncontrollably. Jack put his hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. “Jule,” he said. “We’ll be okay, you hear? Arc won’t let anything bad happen to us.”

  “And on that note,” said the spellslinger. “Let’s keep moving before something wicked comes our way. We make for the supermarket, alright?”

  “R-r-right,” said Julie, her eyes welling up. She rubbed them with her t-shirt and then shook her head, trying to snap herself out of her terror.

  Arc led the way along, keeping as vigilant as he could. His hawk-like eyes scanned every little detail before him, expecting to see the worst. He had a sinking feeling that was starting to congeal inside him. If there was an Eye of Gra’shiya in this city and the Right Hand of Obsidian had come across it, they were either dead or were currently suffering a fate much, much worse.