Finding stores to raid isn’t too hard. The city is big, and has plenty of places to buy things. Well, had places to buy things. Now, they’re clearly places to take things from!

  “You’re smiling the creepy smile again,” Inu says.

  “Stealing is too fun,” I reply. “Shoplifting is great. Especially when morally correct.”

  Our first stop is a grocery store. It’s already half-empty, with people having taken a lot of the medical supplies, canned foods, and, surprisingly, toilet paper. As we enter, there is a group of people in there, too.

  “Stop right there,” a man says. “What’re you here for?” he asks, with a goblin axe resting lazily on his shoulder. He replaced the handle with a longer piece of wood, making it almost serviceable for human use. Mine is shorter than his.

  “Food, bandaids, that kinda stuff,” Thatch readily replies. “Just the regular kind of things.”

  The guy shakes his head. “Sorry, bud. No dice,” he says. “Me and my boys are setting up base here, see. All this stuff is ours now. You should-” he pauses, as Opal and Dar round the corner. “Holy fuck, what the hell is that?!”

  Opal blinks at him. “Oh,” he says. “My wulven friend. We got new species on Earth since last night.” To exacerbate the point, Dar bears his teeth a little, straightening his back to his full height of just about seven-and-a-half feet.

  “Holy shit. Holy fucking shit!”

  One of the guy’s friends, a woman, walks over, rubbing her eyes. “Dave, what’s the commo- Holy shit,” her eyes widen, too, like saucepans.

  “Look,” Thatch says, diplomatically. “We really don’t want any trouble. Just a couple bandages, some water, some food, and we’ll be outta your hair, yeah?”

  Dave nods vigorously, suddenly entirely okay with the prospect of sharing resources. “Ah, yeah. Okay. Fuck, man, take what you need. I’m not dealing with your werewolf.”

  And with that incredibly helpful bit of assistance, we get to leave the grocery store with backpacks full of dried food. I chew on an apple on my way out, enjoying the fruity flavour after the two days of cereal and stuff.

  “Next up? Clothing!” Sylves decrees with great excitement.

  I fear she might be bored when she finds they don’t have faerie dresses. Maybe she’ll make her own, despite the apocalypse. Actually, maybe she’s just looking to pick up sewing supplies?

  We make our way to a clothing store Bay remembers. I only know about the second hand places I usually checked out. More different clothing meant more chances of finding a fabric that didn’t make me wanna die.

  But going to a bigger place was probably a better choice in this case. So, we raid a clothing store, this one much less occupied than our previous target. I discard a dozen scratchy shirts that make me wanna tear my skin off, before finding an acceptable one. It’s a spaghetti top, which means it shows too much skin, but I’m able to find a jacket that lets me cover my arms and shoulders. We don’t need to care about putting the clothes back properly, but despite that, we all wait our turns, using the changing booths to try things on.

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  Well, most of us. Opal doesn’t care and just stands in a corner. Their back muscles are nice. I move on rather quickly. Opal also makes Dar try on a shirt, and it looks incredibly funny, squishing their fur. The wulven decides to stick with their traditional clothing,

  Richard, for her part, does find a shirt in the kid’s section. Good for her. It has a teddy bear on it. Sylves rolls her eyes at the ‘boring‘ designs, simply scavenging for something that interests her, pulling discarded pieces apart for salvageable fabric and stuffing it into her backpack.

  She also picks up a few tools from the employee area, killing the goblin inside and ignoring the smell of the half-rotting half-dissolving-into-mana human corpse as she swiftly shuts the door again.

  When we leave, people are outside. A small group of them, outfitted with guns. Somehow, that doesn’t seem as scary as before.

  Oh, sure, a shot in the head will still kill me, but well. What if I suppress the movement of the hammer? “Thatch, Inu, you’re on diplomacy,” I tell them as we step outside. “No fear.”

  “Hey there,” Thatch greets. Loudly, enough for them to notice us, and turn, while we’re still far enough away that they don’t get jumpy or fire. He waves, too. I simply stare at the weapon.

  The people turn, controlled, but still afraid. I notice the twitch in their hands. None of the three raise their guns, not yet. A man, barely older than me, steps forward. “Oh, more survivors, good! Always nice to see another human,” he says.

  Silently, I [Select] him. Just to be sure. The human comment seems troublesome, since we have Richard and Dar with us.

  “Yeah,” Thatch agrees with a smile. “What are you up to here?”

  “Gathering survivors,” the other man readily gives away. “Police is short staffed, so we volunteered. Supposed to bring anyone we find to the safe zone.”

  “Safe zone?” I ask.

  He nods. “Yeah! Mayor set one up. A skill of some kind, apparently. Certified nonviolence.” He smiles. “Come on. Let’s get you out of the danger zone. Dying to a goblin’s a shit fate.”

  I like his bluntness, at least. Inu looks at him, playing the hesitating act. I know she’s using [Empathy] to glean his intent, since I have him selected. “How much space is there for people?” she asks.

  “Zone expands the more people that join it,” the man says, still wearing that friendly smile. “We’ve got a good bit of water and food, too.”

  There is nothing disingenuous about him. He’s not like the blondey from before, he doesn’t smell of blood and oil. In fact, I could even believe that he is genuinely nice. But I don’t trust the mayor. Not even a little bit. Is it worth taking a look, though?

  “I dunno,” Thatch says, giving a conflicted grimace. “Our last few run-ins with other humans haven’t been particularly nice.”

  At that, the man gives a sympathetic nod. “I hear you. Look. I know that some groups are shitheads about it, but I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna do. Would just be a shame for more decent people to get hurt.”

  “Lord knows there are enough corpses in the street,” a woman next to him says.

  Norman steps out from behind the building. “Alright,” he says. “We’ll come along, take a look at your safe zone.”

  The man brightens at that. “Awesome!” he says. “Didn’t notice you, haha. Got any more group members we should wait for?”

  I look at Norman. He looks at me. Okay, then. Fine, Norman, have it your way. This will be a learning experience. If things go wrong, I’ll play janitor, but I’m not babysitting him this time.

  “Just a few,” he says with a smile. The others slowly trickle out of the building, though Dar and Richard, as well as Opal and Sylves are suspiciously absent. Everyone else moves to follow our group of escorts. Let’s see what this safe zone business is about. Let’s see if Norman gets his face kicked in.

  I kinda hope he does.