Jake's Story, ch 1

Okay guys, this is what I've been working on in my free time for a while.  It's heavily influenced by Wuxia/Xianxia, Shadowrun, and a bunch of other stuff.

I'm not going to tell you that much about it, just keep editing and posting chapters.  In a few hours from this post, 6 chapters of this story will be up.

If you choose to check these out, please let me know what you think.  Since I only wrote this story for fun, it won't hurt my feelings if you think it sucks and I should drop it.  But on the flip side, Delvers started this way too and is my most popular series.

And it bears repeating:  AA2 is still going to launch before this story does even if I complete it, and Jake's story will never eat into my writing time for something else until/unless it has its first good launch.

So with that out of the way....have fun!

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Jacob Hessian Mazzariello dodged a magical ball of green fire but lost his balance.  He rolled forward as it blew up the rusting pickup truck behind him.  “Shit!”  With an effort of will, he used his ki to energize another flash step behind the corner of a building, moving beyond the reach of any dangerous shrapnel.  He absently noted that the building he was hiding behind had once been a pizza restaurant.  Now the pizza chain’s cartoon mascot was faded from years of neglect, and judging by the amount of filth inside on the tables, the windows had been broken out for years too.  

As metal pinged off the concrete sidewalk, Jake heard a sound like a hammer breaking a cinder block from a rooftop nearby and called up, “Are bullets working against this thing?”

“No dice!  It has a barrier!” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Look Jake, if you want to try taking a shot I will toss the fucking rifle down!  Now excuse me while I try to stay alive.”  A moment later, part of the rooftop where the speaker had been hiding went up in green flame, the same color as the fissure witches’ other attacks.  

Jake wasn’t worried about Miller, the sharpshooter had a knack for avoiding injury.  “God dammit,” he sighed, and holstered his Glock.  The 9mm had served him well for years, but was proving less and less useful recently.  In some ways, it was probably for the best, though--bullets were also hard to come by these days.

He drew his sword instead, a serviceable and plain, but very practical saber.  He usually kept the weapon sheathed on his back with a modified scabbard.  Drawing the thing wasn’t as fast as from the hip, but it did work.  This way when he didn’t need it, it stayed secure and out of the way.

Another explosion sent a shockwave through the air, blowing debris around the corner, and running footsteps behind him resolved into Hailey Brast.  The normally posh, conscientious black girl was out of breath, and some of her hair and half an eyebrow had been singed off.  She’d put away her firearm too, so now her trusty remington rifle poked up over her shoulder.  The woman had her butterfly knives in hand, and the edges glittered.  “The fucking things have shields!”

“I heard.”  Another blast punctuated Jake’s words.

“How did you know? The coms are down.”

“Miller told me before he lost his rooftop.”

“Oh.”  She paused as distant screaming echoed through the evening sky, then shook her head.  “Sounds like civvies.  Any plans for them?”

“No, this is a contested zone.  They’re on their own.”

“Well, at least that makes sense.”  She spat.  “Fuck, this is the worst time to be doing this, and there are two of them!  The mission is FUBAR.  Do we have a new plan?”

“Yeah, but without coms and with the enemy throwing magic everywhere, we need alternate communication.  Can you handle that, Brast?”

“No problem.  Why do you think I just about lost half my ass coming to find you?”

“Roger that.  Good hustle.”  As a rank 6 adventurer, Hailey Brast was not the most powerful person on the team, but the former Marine was definitely one of the most competent.  Jake said, “Tell Landry to tank one of the witches.  They’re probably at about mid C level, but he’s rank 8.  He should be able to handle one for a while.  Once he’s engaged, the rest of us will kill the other one, then come bail him out.”

“Understood, roger that.” The former Marine nodded.  “I need to get to a good transition location.  Stand by.”  She sheathed her blades, sprang to the side of the building, clinging to the wall like a spider.  Then she crawled up to the roof and disappeared.

Brast was solid, and Jake trusted she’d get the job done so he began moving, staying in cover, making his way to the more distant sound of fighting.  Their team had come to this town on contract to make some money by killing a witch, maybe even help some people and do some good in the process.  But instead of only one, two of the damn things had popped out of their lair, an abandoned building, and his entire team had almost instantly died.

I’m getting too old for this shit, he thought.  It had been about six years since Purple Rain, right?  He hadn’t celebrated any birthdays for a while, but he did the math in his head.  He was probably around thirty four years old now.  Time flies when you’re having fun.

Jake ran down the street on nothing but muscle power.  He was tempted to use his ki to move faster, but wanted to conserve energy.  This mission had already gone sideways fast, and the apocalypse had made him cautious if nothing else.  Suddenly, he skidded to a stop as one of the fissure witches stalked into the intersection directly ahead of him.  The creature slowly turned, opening its jaws in what might have been intended a grin, but missing cheeks and ravaged flesh made the expression look like a hungry leer.

The fissure witch had been human before, but was not some poor bastard turned into a monster on Purple Rain day.  Nope, this had been a normal, thinking person who’d decided to go all-in with something evil some time after Violet Rain.  Jake hated these types of monsters the most, because they were living proof of how shitty and selfish some people could be.

It really didn’t help that smart monsters were more dangerous, and fissure witches could still think like a human if they wanted to.

This witch looked like it’d been a man before it had turned.  Now it stood stooped, ravaged, with balding spots, stained teeth, missing patches of its face, and wearing nothing but dirty rags.  The thing’s hands had grown unnaturally long and ended in claws.  It actually looked a bit like a deformed zombie, except for the fact it crackled with magic.  Too bad for whoever this thing had been, they’d probably been hoping for a more regal or demonic appearance like some other witches had.  This one hadn’t been so lucky.  

Maybe this was why it seemed so angry.

As it raised a hand to attack, Jake flash-stepped sideways, first to a side street, then twice more to make distance.  Where he’d been standing moments before exploded and burned.  He was straining this ability to the max, but he knew how fast monsters could move, and all alone, even as a rank 7 adventurer, he didn’t stand a chance one on one against either of the two fissure witches his team was fighting.

He ran as hard as he could, rounding a corner, and waited to build enough ki reserves to fill his body with power.  After he felt his energy return enough, he jumped to the rooftop of an abandoned coffee shop.

After a whine of high-pitched magical static, he heard Hailey Brast’s voice in his left ear.  She had synced with the mystic communication node implanted there.  “Team, I got orders from Jake!  Landry needs to hold off the witch to the east, solo.  As soon as he is engaged and pisses it off enough, the rest of us are gonna dog pile the wicked witch of the west.  Also, be advised that firearms don’t work on these things, they have shields.  I say again, no firearms, they have shields, and we are low on ammo anyway.  It’s blades and magic for this op.  Brast, out.”

“Maybe we should have adopted callsigns after all,” muttered Jake.  He heard a feral growl below and managed to flash step to the next rooftop before the area he’d just been standing burst into green flame.

He caught motion out the corner of his eye, and turned in time to see Tracy Main effortlessly jumping between roofs as she ran to join him.  Tall and thin, Tracy’s red hair was tied back in a bandana, and her military-style clothing that the entire team wore as a uniform looked practically new.  Before Purple Rain, she’d been a hippy.  Now she was a hard-as-nails freelancer.  “What’s up, Main?” asked Jake.

Tracy wrinkled her nose.  “The one down there chased me around, but then just turned back and ignored me.  It was super weird.”

“That is strange,” agreed Jake.  “Let’s move.”  He jerked his head behind them, and led the way, jumping down from the roof to a parking lot below and adopting an easy jog.  The creature in the street on the other side of the buildings could move fast, but didn’t seem to like high places, so if it followed it would likely take the long way around.

“Guns don’t work on these witches,” said Tracy.  The wind mage scout was wrinkling her nose again.  “And that green fire stinks.”

“I agree, yes it does, and I already knew that.  Why does everyone keep telling me that these things have shields?”

Main shook her head.  “Jake, I’m not telling you, I was bitching about it.  This was supposed to be an easy job.”

“Yeah, well, nothing is ever easy.”

“I can’t argue with you there!”

As the two of them rounded a corner, Jake spotted Miller up on a rooftop down the street.  The bearded man waved.  He’d put his rifle away, some sort of pimped out AR platform that he reloaded .338 rounds for.  Now the sharp shooter held his tricked out crossbow instead.  Jake 

knew that the man had special bolts for the weapon, and some were blessed, charmed, or cursed.  Miller liked to be versatile.

In the distance, something new exploded, and it sounded even more destructive than usual, so Jake assumed Landry was tanking the other witch now.  If it was using more power to attack, the witch was likely even more pissed off than it had been before--Landry tended to have that kind of effect.

“As soon as Brast shows up, we’ll get started,” said Jake.  They didn’t have long to wait, since the nature mage came barreling around a corner a moment later, and the witch that Jake had just encountered was close behind.

The team’s coms specialist had her butterfly knives out, but she wisely wasn’t fighting, just keeping as much distance as possible.  The moment she spotted the other group members, she headed directly for them and threw a hand behind her, tossing a packet of seeds that exploded into a colorful smoke screen.

“Take positions!” shouted Jake.

The Grasshopper Mice knew exactly what to do, and by the time the witch cleared the smoke, all of them had readied themselves.  The moment the creature became visible, it was hit by a cloud of flies, courtesy of Hailey Brast, which all melted the second they made contact, turning into a sticky, viscous glue.  The witch’s magic shield--common for powerful creatures and adventurers--could stop bullets, but didn’t work well against slower moving objects or certain types of magic.

Tracy Main moved to position at one side, flanking as she used her wind magic on street debris, sending them flying at monster’s feet.  The attack didn’t trip the creature, but it was distracted for a moment.  A second blast staggered it further and completely stole its attention, long enough for Miller to take a shot.

A crossbow bolt sprouted from the creature’s chest and a second later, the witch burst into flame.  The projectile’s fire enhancement had ignited the oil the monster had been covered with.

As the witch thrashed around, Jake waited patiently for his team to weaken it further.  Tracy Main threw a powerful blade of air that was mostly stopped by the witch’s barrier, but some managed to push through and cause damage.  A moment later, another crossbow bolt slammed home into the monster’s shoulder.

Good enough, thought Jake.  He thoughtfully hefted his saber before energizing his body with ki, strengthening his muscles, organs, and bones, then flash-stepped forward.  Flash step was a beginner ability for eastern magic users and cultivators, but was difficult to master.  Jake had a long way to go before he could ever be considered a master, but he seemed to have a knack for the ability.

His sword swung with superhuman speed as he passed by, and one of the witch’s arms fell to the ground.  It screamed, turning, but had been too slow.  Jake wore several enchanted rings on his fingers that he could push power through to generate effects.  A wave of force shot forward from his hand, hitting the witch in the chest at the same time that Tracy Main finally successfully used her wind magic to trip the thing.  

The witch fell backwards, and a new pack of seeds thrown by Brast burst into green vines that began wrapping the creature up.  The witch fought it, and would eventually escape the tangle.  Jake saw the monster turn and realized the target was about to try running away, which meant they had limited time to kill it now.  He would have liked the thing to be weaker first, but they didn’t have time with Landry distracting the other one by himself.

He flash stepped forward, expertly attacking with his saber as he did so.  Training with weapons at high levels of speed and movement had been incredibly difficult, but necessary.  After the apocalypse, the number of adventurers who’d accidentally committed suicide attempting to use flashy abilities they hadn’t mastered yet likely approached the number killed by monsters.

His saber hit the witch’s head with a sick crunch.  Normally, the monster might have been able to dodge, or defend itself, and if so, Jake might have been in trouble.  He would be a lot stronger these days in hand-to-hand if he hadn’t actually started off as a magic-focused adventurer.  Since the first couple years of his post-Purple Rain life had been spent understanding magic, he still hadn’t progressed very far with his cultivation discipline, either.  Eventually, he would attain a much stronger body if he kept practicing cultivaiton.

But learning about magic had allowed him to discover one of the greatest side benefits of his new energy style.

He pushed ki through one of his magic rings, a potent weapon that normally would allow the user to fire off one spell with a long recharge time, almost a week.  Instead of using it as intended, Jake was able to pump ki into the ring, converting his own energy to charge the magical effect with a high rate of efficiency.  An icy spear of freezing magic burst from the ring, hitting the witch in the chest, and Jake swung his saber again while he pushed ki into the blade.

The mighty cut almost severed the witch’s torso, and it collapsed without a sound.  Miller whistled and lowered his crossbow.  “Wasn’t that a bit overkill?”

Jake shook his head.  “No way, we still need to bail out Landry.  Sometimes nuking these fuckers from orbit is the only way to be sure.”

The rest of the team politely chuckled at the old joke, and they all moved toward the sound of combat to save their comrade.  From the rear of their formation, Brast said, “Once we had that mob where we wanted him, it went quick, huh?”

“Yeah, it was supposed to be like that from the start,” said Main.  The wind mage was checking a burned portion of her armor and sucked her teeth.

“You all seem fairly relaxed for a bunch of adventurers with one team mate still fighting a mob by himself,” said Jake.

“Yeah, well, it’s Landry out there.  He’s too big of an asshole to die,” said Brast.  The nature mage spit.

As the others muttered agreement, Jake sighed and nodded.  “Yeah, he’s an asshole, but he’s our asshole.  Let’s bail him out.”

Miller smiled.  “You go it, boss.”

***

“Seriously, you all sure took your fucking time to show up,” growled Calvin Landry.  This was probably the fifth time he’d brought the subject up to complain.  The Grasshopper Mice had been bickering the entire way back to their Forward Operations Base, or FOB.

“We moved directly there.”  Brast was sharpening her butterfly knives.  Tracy Main was driving, and the rest of them were in the back with all their gear on, ready to jump out in case of trouble.  This was how they usually traveled if they were near an infected area.

Landry didn’t seem convinced.  The big black man ran a hand through his close-cropped hair and adjusted his bulky armor, a composite of thick titanium and kevlar that would be far too heavy for an unenhanced human to wear.  “That fucking witch almost got me like four times!  I didn’t ask to be the highest ranked person in this bullshit outfit.  My job is to tank the fucking monsters while you kill them, not go off on my own and almost get my balls singed off.  Why do--”

“Quiet Landry.  We’re almost back to HQ,” warned Jake.

“I don’t give a fuck,” muttered their tank.

“Oh really? You should know by now that the Company folks have zero sense of humor and a lot of opinions about acting professional.  I want to get paid, do you?”  Jake gave him a level look.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.”  Landry spit over the side of the truck.  They were only moving around thirty miles per hour at the moment--driving slowly was another way the group lowered risk while traveling in hostile territory.  Where they were now, formerly somewhere in Ohio, was mostly tamed, and adventurer activity was heavy due to the government-funded FOB, but the group had a motto about being careful.

“Stay careful, stay alive,” said Miller with a smile.  He had his prized rifle in his lap, ready to be used.  His crossbow was on his back.

“And paid,” chimed in Brast.  She sheathed her butterfly knives.

From inside the truck,  Main smacked the back of the cab before yelling out the window, “Something is going on up there, at the gates!”

Jake stood, and sure enough, there was a massive amount of activity in front of the FOB.  He narrowed his eyes, wondering what the hell was happening.

The Grasshopper Mice were only a C rank group, rated that way based on the level of the monsters they could safely handle.  Since they were low powered for their rank, normally they tried to deal with a single C level monster, or maybe even lower level mobs like zombies, or a few ghouls.

Mobs, though Jake and sighed.  Gamer slang had become much more common now after Earth had changed.

Before the truck could even reach the gates, some of the Company officials who ran the base, a few government types, and some soldiers flagged down the truck.  An important looking man with a clipboard walked up and asked, “Who is in charge here. What group are you?”

“Jacob Mazzariello, and we’re the Grassshopper Mice.  What is going on?”

The man’s voice was grim.  “You haven’t heard?”  After Jake mutely shook his head, the man said, “Our scientists have detected a stabilized tear in spacetime nearby.  It could be an invasion, the real deal.  Every single fighter from the FOB is being conscripted.  We leave in about an hour.  Reinforcements are inbound but we’re emptying out the FOB to serve as a quick reaction strike team and to recon.”

“Conscripted?” gasped Brast as the man with the clipboard walked away.  The official, likely a government employee, also likely trusted they’d find someone else to ask any further questions.

“Are we gonna dip out?” whispered Miller.  “Like, try to get the hell out of here?”  Landry looked like he agreed with that plan.  Miller patted his rifle and said, “We’re good, but if this is real, we’re being sent as pawns.  The big guns aren’t here yet, right?”

“No, we should stay,” answered Jake, shaking his head.

“Why?”  Main wrinkled her nose.  Behind her, Landry was already nodding his head and met Jake’s gaze.

The big black man said, “What the hell, Jake?  We should get the fuck out of dodge.”

Jake sighed.  “How are you so sure we could even get away?  But that smug guy with the clipboard said it’s a real tear, like a portal.  Look at all of this activity!  This has to be the real deal.  And if the tear is close, and a big enough threat they’re strong-arming everyone at the FOB to deal with it--Think about it.  There hasn’t been any politicking, and we haven’t heard about this until now.  We’ve only been gone for two days.  This s-tear is probably a big one.  If it’s not dealt with, we might all die anyway.

“But s-tears can’t be that serious, I mean--” began Brast.

“What about Mexico?” asked Landry.  Brast’s mouth shut with a click.

“We can’t let this place become like Mexico,” said Jake.  “We don’t have much civilization left as it is.”

“But we’re only a C rank group!” protested Brast.

“Every little bit might count,” said Miller.  He sadly shook his head.  “I think the boss is right.”

Landry sighed.  “Me too.”  He spat.  “Dammit.  I hate to admit it, but me too.”

“Me three,” said Main from inside the truck.

Brast made a face.  “Well, at least we should get paid.  We’re pretty much broke now.  Neither of the witches had cores, magic stones.  Two C mobs with no cores.  Terrible luck.”

“Our luck might get worse,” intoned Landry.

“Now why would you say that?” asked Miller.  He frowned and asked,  “Why do you always gotta be such an asshole, Landry?”

Jake tuned them out.  His eyes were on the eastern sky, and the clouds gathering there were giving him a very bad feeling.