The Dead Scout's Handbook of Afterlife Survival

Chapter 48: Hero

About ten minutes later, three sets of footsteps clomped down the stairs carved between two shops. As with most startled transporters, time slowed and Sergei jogged to the stairway, peeking around it. He smiled and everything returned to its normal pace as Rebecca, Sam and a little, soviet bear girl descended.

"Howdy, comrades!"

"How's it g-going Sergei?" Sam said and gestured at the Russian girl. "She's w-with us."

"I'm Samantha!" said the girl in an astonishingly American accent.

"I am-"

"Sergei! He said your name. Are you one of those fast people?"

"Yes," Sergei said, feeling his chest puff out a bit. "Yes, I am."

"Wooooowww!" the girl's eyes danced.

Sergei laughed, crouched to a sprint and popped from place to place until Sam interrupted Sergei and the girl's amusement.

"Everything taken care of here?"

"Yes. Cayden kills Famine. I kill Death. Everything okay there?"

"Yeah. We made a magnet, and it chased War off. I doubt he'll be back," Rebecca sighed. "Pestilence was a matter of locating. I sent metal dust and shavings up into the air and it was pretty easy for Sam to track Pestilence in such a conductive space. Then I dropped a roof on her. Where's Cayden?"

"Took a sword to the belly and..."

"Again?" Rebecca asked.

"Yeah... he uh, he did on purpose," Sergei said as Rebecca's lips pursed.

"I wonder if Sarah was right about him."

"Well, I do not..."

"So I'm assuming he has healing?"

"Yes, he sleeps... whoa... your hands."

"Yeah. I'm going need his help when he wakes up."

"In the meantime, w-w-we should ch-check on the t-transporter."

"I got it," Sergei volunteered and with a flare of drama, settled into a sprinters start while seconds stretched to their limits. Popping up, he strolled toward the center of town. As is the case with most days where the tasks are done though the day's end is nowhere near, Sergei wouldn't rush. There must have been at least a few fire users here as the climate felt cool rather than frigid. The sun struck corrugations and dents in the roof tops, which in turn, reflected the walls with dazzling geometric patterns. The water, frozen in time, rested in the channels covering all surfaces, exploding into thousands of airborne droplets whenever the channels ended in a tiny waterfall to the next level. The sun refracted off the droplets, giving the appearance of millions of Christmas lights covering the city. Sergei watched the feathers of a blue bird overhead undulate almost imperceptibly in flight.

Feeling the sudden urgency of courtesy, Sergei jogged down the staircase. He realized his comrades wouldn't perceive the difference between five and ten seconds, but Sergei would, and that's what mattered. The low and infinitely long squeals and gasps of the city's many voices in slow motion never ceased to bother him and the sound of his footsteps hitting the ground failed to reach his ears. The slow world was beautiful, very unsettling, and made for a regrettably long workday. He reached the expanse of flat steel at the bottom of the valley and the towers rose in front of him. The cylindrical sky scraper blocked his view of the transport building on its bizarrely narrow pylon.

Sergei continued around the skyscraper and everything appeared to be in good order with the transport building, not even a scratch marred the support. The world sped up again as Sergei scanned the hillside in front of him for movement, ears ringing as sound encroached on him at full speed. Sometimes vision and hearing could be distorted by the sudden change of time perception, and Sergei's senses still adjusted to what was occurring. Below him, the floor vibrated as the pylon swirled with a deep, crimson red. It all went black.