Despite all my desires for a proper weapon, and how thrilled I was at finding this store, the biggest blade I’ve ever held was a steak knife. As we head back to the car, I take the dagger I claimed out of its sheath and take stock of how it feels in my hand.

  It feels a little out of place, but mostly, I like it.

  Ryder pops up beside me and I almost drop it.

  “Oh my god, Ryder, you can’t do that when I’m holding something this sharp.”

  “Sorry, Jane. Ooh, I like the handle on that one. I think I like the handle on mine more—hey!”

  I did not realize Ryder had claimed a blade for himself. I snag the sheathed weapon right out of his hands. “Absolutely not.”

  “You get to have a proper weapon! Why can’t I?”

  “Because you’re nine and just as likely to stab yourself as a monster. Besides, you have your fire. You should be practicing that.”

  “Jaaaa-aaanneee,” Ryder whines.

  I pull his chosen blade into my inventory. With an extra thought, I label it in my head as ‘future gift for Ryder’ and my subconscious knows to put it into my regular inventory. Just because I’m not letting him have a blade now doesn’t mean I won’t agree that he should have one later. “You didn’t put any into your weapons stash, did you?”

  “No,” he grumbles. “Game didn’t give me one.”

  Interesting. “Because you’re a mage class, not a fighter. You don’t need a weapon. You are the weapon.”

  He scuffs his shoe against the ground and mutters a “Fine.” I’ll take the win when I can get it.

  “Maybe when you’re older.”

  “Like when I’m ten!?”

  I glare at him out of the corner of my eye. “Maybe for your sweet sixteen.”

  He makes a face. “I guess it’s nice to know you think we’ll live that long.” He hops and takes off, running to Beaker’s side, pestering him with questions.

  I don’t know if Ryder’s comment makes me want to laugh or cry.

  We all load back into the Volvo and take off again. It takes a while, but I realize that my internalized map of the address that Sutherland gave me is off—I’m pretty sure my aimless driving is heading in the complete opposite direction.

  Hopefully, Sutherland’s precog knew that we weren’t going to make it to his address today.

  Around the corner is the new Costco. I figured a Costco would be a terrible place to loot during the first few days, so we stayed away. I guess we can go in now. There’s agreement around the car, so I pull into a spot and we all climb out of the Volvo.

  “Hey Jane,” Beaker asks, “you’ve been using your baseball bat and I just thought that was an aesthetic choice. But with how excited you were about that knife store… why didn’t you just find an axe? Like of the wood-chopping variety?”

  I come to a grinding halt.

  It takes a few steps for the other four to realize I’ve stopped. They all turn around to face me. “Because I’m super dumb sometimes, Beaker,” I say, not a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

  Holy fucking shit. Why didn’t I go find an axe somewhere!?

  “I went looking for some the first time we were at a Home Depot,” Nancy says. “They were all long gone.”

  My gaze whips to Nancy. “Seriously?”

  She shrugs. “I assumed you did the same. Why wouldn’t you have thought of it?”

  “Believe it or not, this is my first time living through the apocalypse. I think it’s perfectly reasonable that I didn’t think to go looking for an axe.”

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  Savannah lets out a small giggle.

  “At least we were able to grab some back there,” Beaker says, since there were a few hatchets and axes in the blade store.

  “I didn’t even think about fire axes when those were staring me in the face,” I mutter, feeling a little embarrassed.

  Now that I’m thinking about it, I also remember that sledgehammers and handsaws exist. Or a chainsaw! I’d have looked so badass wielding a chainsaw against a monster. I got so tunnel-vision with my sports equipment that it didn’t even occur to me that there were more normal ways to produce a blade.

  I drag my feet as we head into the Costco. All this does is prove to me how incapable I am at running any sort of community. Ryder goes running off once we’re inside, Nancy drifts away, and Savannah grabs Beaker’s hand and drags him down a separate aisle. I wander, my brain a million miles away, and when I finally turn up an aisle, the first thing I see if a boxset of knives.

  “Funny,” I tell the universe.

  When Nancy finds me later, I’m sitting in a corner with a bag of Skinny Pop that missed getting scooped by previous looters. “You’re spiralling,” she chides.

  I shrug, shoving a handful of popcorn in my mouth.

  “You don’t need to feel sorry for yourself.” She takes a seat beside me, leaning back against the scaffolding of the shelves and stretching her legs out in front of her. “No one expects you to have all the answers.”

  “I expect me to have all the answers,” I say, my mouth full.

  She leans over and bumps me with her shoulder.

  “I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” I admit.

  “For what?” Nancy asks. “For living through the apocalypse? For suddenly finding yourself the guardian of a nine-year-old? No one’s cut out for any of this.” She rotates, turning to face me. Her stare is intense. “We’re living in unprecedented times.” I think about that, about the truth of her words. And she reaches over and grabs a few kernels. “And you were doing just fine with your baseball bat.”

  “Imagine how much better we’d have done with an axe.”

  “Have you ever swung an axe before? You’d have sliced off Ryder’s hand.”

  “Sounds a lot like what I just said to Ryder.”

  “There you go,” she says, reaching for more popcorn.

  I snatch the bag away, giving her a fake growl.

  She giggles.

  Releasing the bag to her, I let out a sigh. “Okay, okay, I’m done feeling sorry for myself,” I tell her as I stand back up. I hold out my hand, which she grabs, and I hoist her to her feet. She passes the popcorn back to me, and I pull it into my inventory while I stride forward, heading down the aisle. “What have we found? Are we good to go?” I didn’t do any searching myself, but I trust everyone else to have gotten what we need.

  Nancy catches up to me. “Yeah, we got a few things. Is there anything you were looking for?”

  “What are you talking about? I deadpan. “I’ve been shopping this whole time.”

  She sighs, a sort of I-can’t-believe-I-have-to-deal-with-this sound. I find myself laughing, and she joins in.

  And then I trip, sprawling out into the middle of the aisle, as my head flares with a magic surge notification headache.

  I climb up onto my knees but collapse back onto my side, grabbing at my temples, as the headache squeezes my brain. Nancy is at my side in an instant, and somewhere in the distance I can hear her screaming Ryder’s name. “I don’t understand,” she says, and her voice seems a little closer. “I thought you were levelling up the Ability. I thought the headaches weren’t as bad?”

  “Maybe it’s a really big surge?” Ryder offers, his voice coming out of nowhere, his little hand wrapping around my side as they get me to my feet.

  The purple blooms across my map, and I lift my hand and gesture ahead of us. “Go, go,” I try so say. It might be a little garbled, but I think they get it, because the arms around me start helping me move through the aisle.

  “What’s happening?” Beaker asks, and a moment later I’m scooped right off my feet. My brain is still being squeezed and I drop my head against the man’s chest.

  His shirt still smells like detergent.

  “We gotta get back to the car!” Ryder says.

  The world shakes as Beaker hustles, and the jostling means I’m not able to make out what they’re saying. All I can focus on is the purple of the map, the haze that settles over the Costco and continues spreading outward.

  We head through the doors and the fresh air clears my head enough that I can tap on his arm, get placed back on the ground. Nancy and Ryder are back at my sides immediately. “Is the headache gone?” Ryder asks, his voice nearly a whisper.

  I shake my head, but that’s a terrible thing to do when you have a headache. Especially a magically-induced one. I cringe, grab at my head again.

  “Definitely not,” Nancy says. “Where’s the surge moving to?”

  “Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Savannah. Doubt she’s asking me.

  “It’s not,” I manage to say. “It’s just… getting bigger.”

  “Big surge,” Ryder says with validation. I can manage a smile and I squeeze his little hand, tucked in mine.

  Nancy hums. “We should get in the car anyways, so we’re ready to go in case it does move.” She starts moving again, and Ryder and I are swept up.

  Nancy gets me into the front passenger seat and runs around to take the driver’s seat. She’s talking fast, and I focus on it for just a second, to realize she’s explaining to Savannah and Beaker what’s happening. What it means. I keep my attention on the map, waiting to see if and to where the purple is moving. The car rumbles on beneath me, but I don’t give directions. There’s no directions to give. The purple doesn’t move.

  “I don’t understand,” I say, one hand still pressed against my temple. The pain is still there but it’s dulled just enough that I can think again. “It’s just spreading. How are we supposed to find an epicentre if it’s just spreading?”

  “I don’t know, honey,” Nancy says. “Just breathe, and we’ll start driving as soon as you tell us where.”

  A new wave of pressure in my head. I force out a breath. And we wait.