Clay coughed and his eyes opened slow, blinking up at the branches overhead. He coughed again, harder, and his hand went to his chest.

  The howling had stopped. The purple beams too. The woods had gone quiet.

  "Colt," Clay said, voice rough.

  "Clay." Colt laughed once. He looked around at the trees, then back at his brother. "You're awake."

  Clay sat up fast and his hands went to his chest, patting where the arrow had been. He ripped his shirt open and looked down.

  The skin was smooth. A faint mark, but no wound. No blood.

  "Where is it," Clay said. His fingers traced the spot. "I was shot. Colt, I was shot." His voice rose.

  Colt didn't have an answer for that. He grabbed Clay and pulled him into a hard hug.

  Clay groaned.

  "Oh shit." Colt let go and stepped back. "Sorry."

  "I'm fine," Clay said, though his face said otherwise. He stared at his chest a second longer, then pushed to his feet and swayed once before catching himself.

  "Clay, we gotta get the hell out of here. Let's get back to Pa."

  They walked, and the woods showed what happened, and it was bloody.

  Bodies lay everywhere, most of them ninjas with black cloth torn open and masks ripped off. Throats and bellies shredded like something with claws had gone through them. One lay folded over a log with his spine bent the wrong way. Another was missing an arm, the stump ragged where it had been torn free.

  Colt saw a few Shoshone too. One young man on his back with his hand still wrapped around a war club, the stone head dark with blood. Another slumped against a pine with arrows scattered around him like he'd been firing until he couldn't anymore. A third lay face down in the brush with a knife still buried in the ninja beneath him.

  They'd fought hard. They'd won, mostly. But they'd paid for it, if it weren’t for Shoshone. Colt knew they’d be dead.

  Clay stepped over a body and looked back at Colt. "These men. Who are they."

  "Kevin said they're ninas."

  Clay frowned. "They don't look like no ni?as to me."

  "Ninjas," Colt said. "I mean ninjas."

  "Ninjas." Clay stopped walking. "Who the hell is Kevin."

  Colt stopped too and looked at Clay, then at the ground, then back up. "It's a long story, Clay."

  Clay's jaw worked like he wanted to push, but he didn't. They kept walking.

  Colt saw it first, a shape hanging in a tree up ahead, arms dangling, head slumped forward. It was Henry. He didn’t make it far after he ran off.

  He was tangled in the branches about eight feet up, like he'd been thrown and caught there. Black metal stars studded his chest and gut, six or seven of them sunk deep. His shirt was soaked dark and his eyes stared at nothing.

  "Jesus Christ," Clay said.

  Colt looked at Henry. He hadn't liked him. Henry was dumb, followed Earl around like a dog waiting for scraps. But nobody deserved to die like that, thrown into a tree and stuck full of metal.

  They kept moving, neither of them saying anything for a while. Through the thinning trees Colt could see the cabin up ahead.

  The door hung off one hinge. The windows were smashed with glass glinting in the dirt out front.

  They broke into a run.

  "Pa!" Colt shouted.

  Clay went through the door first and stopped hard, putting his hand up with his palm out, telling Colt to wait. Colt looked at Clay's face and knew.

  He pushed past him anyway.

  Pa lay on the floor near the fireplace with his shotgun still in his hand. Two dead ninjas crumpled near him, one with half his face gone from buckshot, the other with a knife buried in his eye.

  "Ain't no dodgin' 12 gauge buck," Clay said and shook his head.

  Pa had fought. Pa had killed two of them.

  But there was a sword in his chest, and he wasn't moving.

  Colt dropped beside him. His hands hovered over the sword like he didn't know if he should pull it out or leave it.

  "Pa," Colt said. His voice cracked. "Pa."

  Clay knelt on the other side and put two fingers to Pa's neck. He held them there a few seconds, then pulled his hand back.

  "He's gone," Clay said. He stood back up and punched the wall.

  Colt stayed there, staring at Pa's face. The lines around his eyes. The gray in his beard. The hands that had taught him to shoot, to ride, to work the land until his own hands bled.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Clay stood and his boots scraped the floor. "They got Pa. They killed him." His voice shook. "Those sons of bitches."

  Colt stayed on his knees with his chest feeling hollow. Then he stood.

  He started pacing, three steps one way and three steps back, his mind racing ahead of his feet. "How do I get back," he muttered.

  Clay turned. "Get back where."

  "The—the—the place. With Kevin."

  "Kevin." Clay's face twisted. "Colt, what the fuck. Kevin died more than three years ago.”

  “Not that Kevin.” Kevin was their old bloodhound. Good dog.

  Colt focused on the words in his vision.

  PROJECT: LAST STAND v1.01

  "Yes," Colt said.

  Clay turned. "Yes what?"

  The main menu folded out in front of him.

  PROJECT: LAST STAND v1.01

  Stats

  Status

  Map

  Armory

  Module Bay: LOCKED

  Skills: LOCKED

  Help

  ?????

  ?????

  ?????

  Colt looked at Map and it lit up.

  "Map," he said.

  Clay frowned. And stood there staring at Colt like he was crazy.

  The menu shifted and a new image opened. Earth 265 sat at the top with the familiar shapes below it, the river, the land, the star marking home. Colt focused on the designation and thought about the HUB, about Kevin, about Earth 145.

  The map flashed.

  EARTH 145

  Now it showed the HUB. One room. The bed. The table. The doors. Kevin's spot marked near the center.

  In the bottom left corner sat a word.

  Travel

  Colt looked at it and it lit up.

  "Travel," he said.

  A new box appeared.

  Insufficient Shinki 0/50

  Colt stared at it. "Shinki?"

  Clay stepped closer. "Colt, who are you talkin' to?"

  Colt didn't answer. He closed the map with a thought and went back to the main menu. His eye saw the word Help, and it lit up.

  "Help," Colt said.

  "With what?" Clay's voice was tight now. "Colt, help with what?"

  A new box appeared.

  Help:

  FAQ

  Tutorial

  Report a Bug

  Troubleshooting

  Contact

  Settings: LOCKED

  Advanced Settings: LOCKED

  "Damn it Colt, who are you talkin' to?" Clay said again.

  Colt's eyes went to Troubleshooting. He didn't know what the word meant, but trouble he understood, and shooting he understood. Put together like that, it had to mean something useful.

  Clay grabbed his arm. "Colt. Did you hit yer head out there?"

  "Nah man, just wait a sec." Colt held up a hand. "I'm tryin' to read."

  Clay laughed. "Read? Boy, you can barely spell yer own name and it's only four letters."

  "Oh yeah?" Colt glanced back at him. "You know what mole-cues are?"

  Clay huffed. “No, I don’t.”

  “Quiet then.”

  Colt turned and walked to the other side of the room with his eyes still on the menu. He looked at Troubleshooting and it lit up.

  A new list dropped down.

  Troubleshooting:

  Unable to return to HUB

  Weapons not appearing

  System display errors

  Connection unstable

  Colt looked at "Unable to return to HUB."

  Another box opened.

  Unable to return to HUB

  Cause: Insufficient Shinki reserves.

  Solution: Acquire Shinki to restore transport function.

  A 3D image appeared in front of him, spinning slow. A small crystal, jagged and glowing violet, with lines and symbols running along the box next to it that Colt couldn't read. Numbers and letters he didn't understand, some kind of breakdown of what it was made of.

  Below the image sat a word.

  Shinki

  Colt stared at it. "Shin... key."

  Clay was watching him from across the room with his arms crossed. "You're talkin' to the air, Colt. You know that, right? Shinki?” Clay shook his head.

  Colt ignored him. He was still looking at the crystal, trying to make sense of it.

  The box below the image updated.

  Current Shinki: 0

  Required for HUB transport: 50

  Colt let out a breath. "Shit."

  "What," Clay said.

  Colt turned to face him. "I gotta get fifty of somethin' called Shinki. It's like a..." He waved his hand, searching for the word. "A violet crystal."

  Clay stared at him. "Colt, I don't know what the hell you're talkin' about."

  Colt dismissed the menu with a thought. The boxes folded away and the words in the corner stayed.

  PROJECT: LAST STAND v1.01

  He looked at Pa on the floor, then at the dead ninjas beside him.

  Colt looked at the dead ninjas, then back at the crystal floating in his vision. Violet eyes. Violet lightning. Violet crystal.

  “Those things,” Colt said, nodding at the bodies. “They got it in ‘em. Has to be. That’s what makes their eyes glow like that.”

  Clay looked at the ninjas, then back at Colt. "You're tellin' me you gotta loot dead bodies for magic rocks so you can go back to some place with a fella named Kevin."

  Colt nodded. "Yeah. That's exactly what I'm tellin' you."

  Clay rubbed his face with both hands. "This is the worst damn day of my life."

  Colt knelt beside one of the dead ninjas and started patting him down.

  Nothing. No pockets. No pouches. Nothing but black cloth and cold skin.

  The other ninja lay on its side near the fireplace. Colt crawled over and checked it too.

  Nothing.

  “What the hell,” Colt muttered. “Where is it.”

  “Colt.” Clay’s voice came from behind him. “What’s that.”

  “What.” Colt looked back. “It’s a dead ninja. I told you that.”

  “No.” Clay pointed. “There’s somethin’ on his neck.”

  Colt rolled the body over. At the base of the ninja’s skull, half-buried in the skin, was a crystal. It was small, violet, and Imbedded in his head.

  Colt reached for it and tried to grab it with his fingers.

  “Damn.” He pulled, but it didn’t budge. “That’s really in there.”

  He pulled out his bowie.

  MELEE WEAPON EQUIPPED

  Bowie

  Colt glanced at the words when they popped up but didn’t care. He had work to do.

  He slid the point of the blade under the edge of the crystal and started prying. The metal scraped against bone. Colt’s jaw tightened and he pushed harder.

  A wet pop. A sound like suction releasing.

  The crystal fell out and hit the floor.

  Colt grabbed it.

  PROJECT: LAST STAND v1.01

  Shinki: 1/50

  Colt smiled. “That’s it. That’s a shinki.”

  He rolled the next ninja over, found the crystal at the base of the skull, and worked the bowie under it. Another pop. Another crystal in his hand.

  PROJECT: LAST STAND v1.01

  Shinki: 2/50

  “Damn, man.” Colt looked up like the numbers might change if he stared at them hard enough. “I need forty-eight more of these. Fuck.”

  Clay looked toward the door, toward the forest beyond it.

  “Well, there’s gotta be at least twenty of them ninjas we passed on the way here.”

  Colt stood fast. He looked around the room and spotted a leather satchel hanging on a hook by the door. He grabbed it, dropped the crystals inside, and slung it over his shoulder.

  He pulled open a drawer near Pa’s workbench. Ammo. Boxes of it, lined up neat the way Pa always kept things.

  Colt pulled out his single action army.

  SIDEARM EQUIPPED

  Colt Single Action Army — .45

  0/6

  He thumbed the cylinder open and dumped the spent casings into a small pocket in the satchel. Then he started loading, one round at a time.

  1/6

  2/6

  3/6

  4/6

  5/6

  6/6

  He snapped the cylinder shut and holstered it. Then he grabbed two boxes of ammo and dropped them in the satchel.

  “Load up, Clay.” Colt looked at his brother. “We need to get some more shinki.”