Apocalypse Parenting

The second-largest Threat is coming under attack, and Eldest’s client is in the area!

It looks like you were right on its location, Radial. I was sure it was further south! Let me know what paperwork you want me to handle for you.

– Radio transmission from Voices for Non-Citizens

The gargantuan tree, the flash and flare of countless Abilities, the ponderously slow motion of a root ripping free of the ground and curling back in preparation for a strike… it was a scene that would make anyone stop and stare. A ring of upended and crushed cars, clearly thrown by the tree at the tunnel exit, did nothing to make the view less nightmarish, especially since one had somehow caught fire and was billowing ugly black smoke into the air. The area around the tunnel exit had been a mix of residential and commercial, but now it was all churned up earth and rubble, with the occasional flat patch of pavement only emphasizing the uneven surface everywhere else. Announcements from other team leaders and assistants bounced through my head distractingly, and illusory symbols that were likely meant to help direct groups through the chaos only added to the visual mess.

I felt like I’d emerged into the epic finale of some big-budget Hollywood blockbuster.

I’m supposed to find a safe route through that?!

Picking our route was supposed to be a privilege, granted partly due to Colonel Zwerinski’s trust in my judgment, and partly out of consideration for our group’s vulnerable younger members. The rest of the group leaders hadn’t gotten a choice: most had been ordered to fan out to the left or right. The Ground Team had instead been ordered to charge directly toward the tree.

Staying grouped up would have let us protect ourselves more easily from the tiny monsters, but the tiny monsters were almost a non-issue. They were easy to take out and any strike they landed could be healed in instants.

The roots and branches of the treezilla were far more problematic, ponderous immensities that would be near-impossible to block and were now largely immune to damage.

Even if we could have damaged them, we’d been ordered not to go out of our way to do so. The Ground Team would need to cut a hole through the outer bark, and there were apparently some barriers inside the tree that we’d need to destroy in order to reach the heartvein. The tree’s regeneration would hopefully have progressed enough while we ran through the tunnel that all of that would be possible, but if not, Colonel Zwerinski would be calling a retreat soon.

It would have been nice if we could have run more tests, but the ammunition for the howitzers was far from unlimited and we hadn’t been sure how much damage we’d be able to deal before the tree went immune. Since the shells were too large to fit inside a Minor Matter Replicator, every single one had been restored by hand. If we had to, we could repeat our barrage one more time - largely because we hadn’t been able to hurt the treezilla as much as we’d hoped - but doing so would leave us with almost none left to deal with future Threats or unpleasant surprises.

So, here we were, trying to spread out and dodge slow-moving limbs as wide as semi trucks as we pirouetted our way across a crazy death field.

Micah had been waiting for me near the exit. He backed up against me, hands held up near his face. He didn’t need to use his hands to cast his abilities, and we’d practiced doing it without motion, but he still fell back on using gestures when he could. “Mom? Which way are we going?”

I swallowed a moment of panic at the realization that I hadn’t yet figured that out. I haven’t been frozen for long. Analyze says I’ve only been out of the tunnel for five seconds, even if it feels like longer. Still, standing around won’t help. Let’s see… The middle is actually still too dense with people. Some of the teams that were supposed to go left or right didn’t go far enough. We should circle around. The right side is actually a little thinner. More of the branches on that side are still up, but I don’t know if that matters much… We’ll be within range for all the branches after we’ve gone 100 feet anyway. Right. Let’s go!

Floor 2! Circle around to the right. Follow the orange star symbols to help you keep your heading. BE AWARE OF YOUR SURROUNDINGS! It’s better to go the wrong way than to take a hit. If you see arrows on the ground, MOVE. Unless the treezilla is coming for you, don’t rush. Conserve your energy!

I made the announcement mentally, but I used my actual voice to talk to my sons. “Alright, boys. Stay close. Slow and steady. I’ll keep the birds off us; you two are on weasel duty.”

It was no accident that I’d assigned them the job that would have them keeping a closer eye on the ground while I focused on the sky. If me or anyone else with Basic Hologram saw something - there were three others in our assault force - we’d be putting arrows down telling people to dodge. It should be fine, if we were quick enough: each limb could hit an area hundreds of feet long but less than twenty feet wide, and even if they were fast, their size meant they took several seconds between starting their windup for a strike and actually striking.

The plan I’d discussed with Colonel Zwerinski was to try to keep our force dispersed, so any branch couldn’t attack more than four or five people at a time.

Dodging should be very doable, as long as our attentiveness and predictions are perfect, and everyone reacts quickly enough to the warnings.

The thought was a little hysterical. My memories of playing MMOs in college were full of times people had been too foolish or distracted to move out of clear and obvious danger.

People know the stakes are higher, I comforted myself. They’ll be more alert. And… the boys and I have our second of Invulnerability. I’ve coached them to be ready to use it. I just need to watch for the right time.

Something like Cassie’s Overlay would have been amazing for me here. I could have simply set it to predict impact zones and replicated any warnings it gave me with Basic Holograms almost thoughtlessly. It was an ability I’d considered taking, but ultimately decided against.

Eleven choices just wasn’t very many.

The screams from my left became louder as a root slammed downward toward a small group that clearly wasn’t going to get out of the way in time. A soldier I didn’t know made it underneath just in time, lifting his arms as if he had some hopes of stopping the implacable force, then vanishing as the branch smacked into the ground.

What the hell was that!? A deathwish!? I wondered. Wait… maybe he has Invulnerability? I know the Arsenal’s been trying to get it for everyone they could.

I held my breath as the root withdrew, letting it go in relief when I saw the soldier still standing. The root now sported a jagged hole, and the soldier had a bloody gash along one arm.

Invulnerability. It must be… No way he’d have such minor injuries otherwise. He probably hurt his arm as the branch was pulling away.

The people he’d been protecting were in worse shape, especially one woman with pulverized legs. Still, only one wasn’t moving.

In the apocalypse, if you were alive, you could probably be saved.

Several able-bodied people ran forward before the treezilla could strike again. They lifted the injured victims over their shoulders - even the unmoving one - and carried them toward the tree, leaving the heroic soldier to stumble after them, looking dazed.

Stop getting distracted, I admonished myself. If you see a strike, flash some arrows and forget about it if it’s not nearby. You’ll do the most good that way.

Resolutely, I marched forward, aiming for a gap between the ruins of two buildings where untended grass and dandelions signaled that the ground was still traversable. I used Basic Hologram to put up a translucent orange star in the air, and was irritated to see several people change direction toward it who definitely weren’t from my group.

Don’t clump up, assholes! Don’t you dare draw attacks toward my kids!

I couldn’t think of any way to stop them, not in the midst of this chaos, so I kept my rage to myself and started to jog. We needed to move faster, even if most of the ground we’d have to cover was unreliable.

“Come on, boys. Gavin, take the lead. Stay close, but find a good path for the rest of us.”

Gavin’s tail and extreme levels of physical enhancement meant that loose rubble and unstable terrain held no danger for him, and he was always moving slower than his top speed. At my command, he scampered ahead, expression uncharacteristically serious.

Maybe I ought to have ordered our escorts to take the lead, but from what I’d seen, their physical synergies weren’t as extreme as Gavin’s. They could protect him by helping Micah and me keep Gavin safe from the waves of little monsters.

My section of fencing hovered over Gavin’s head, keeping the little flyers off his head while he focused his attention downward, carefully pushing on fragments of cement and splintered 2x4s, making sure they didn’t shift under pressure. Micah’s sparkling Shockwalls froze any of the weasels that went for Gavin, with my boys’ escorts sniping out the stunned rodents with a mix of abilities and gunfire.

I had to slow my jog intermittently as I climbed over ruins and picked my way through fields of rubble, but sending Gavin out ahead had helped us make good time and let me split my focus enough to watch for the devastating attacks of the giant tree. I knew it could throw things, just like its smaller counterparts, but it wasn't doing it much now that there were so many targets within easy smashing range. The roots - which smaller treezillas had used to grab and trip - were instead being used just like the branches. I’d put up warning arrows… four… six… several times, but I’d stopped watching the outcomes. I couldn’t spare the focus, mental or emotional: put up arrows, listen for crash, let arrows fade. Done.

The first time the tree targeted us, we were in a blessedly flat area. I saw it coming and put the arrows on the ground. Gavin escaped the area in an eyeblink, his tail wrapping around Micah and I and dragging us after him in a flat-out run that meant the strike hit almost twenty feet behind us. I was hit by a spray of dust and pebbles, but my enhanced physique kept me from suffering any harm. Our escorts made it to safety too, if not by such a comfortable margin.

Damn. Maybe Gavin should carry us the whole way? No. He needs to have his tail available to help him balance. He can grab us in an emergency. Plus, we need the whole group there. Getting to the tree ourselves but leaving the other parents and kids to fend for themselves… there’s no point to that.

We’ll be out of the roots’ effective attack range soon. They can’t seem to bend up enough to attack anything too close to the tree. Then we’ll only have to worry about the branches. Almost there.

Gavin dropped us and scurried ahead. He paused for a moment in confusion, then looked back to me for guidance.

One of the treezilla’s severed limbs was lying on the ground to our right. Even withered, it formed a vast, curving barrier we’d have to jump or climb over. Straight ahead of us was the ruins of what looked like a gas station, the wreckage of pumps splattered with the glistening sheen of oil. To our left was a pit, possibly left behind by the churning of the treezilla’s roots.

Not the pit. The gas station? No. Things are difficult enough without being coated in grease, and we can't spare the energy to Cleanse it away. One choice, here.

I lifted a hand, pointing at the fallen branch, and he leapt atop it easily before reaching down to help Micah and me up. Our escorts followed us up, some under their own power, some with Gavin’s assistance. I paused for a moment, using my elevation to get a better view of Floor 2’s team.

I can’t see everyone… but I don’t think we’ve lost anyone yet.

A little girl and her mother were running toward me, just barely behind my family. Gavin helped both them and the Turners over before hopping down to the ground on the far side. I could see the other two small kids and their families a little farther back, and Malia and her brother bringing up the rear. I didn’t see Malia’s dad, but he was probably hidden by the half-intact wall nearby. One of the soldiers jogging alongside Malia lifted an arm to wave me forward, and I nodded, following my sons down.

Good. He’ll be able to help people over, if anyone needs it. Most people ought to be able to manage this climb themselves, although it might be tricky. We just need to make it a little further. We can follow the other side of the branch for the next hundred feet, and that’ll protect our left side.

I’d barely started moving before I realized my mistake.

There was a long line of unbroken land next to the fallen branch, a smooth and inviting path that took us closer to the treezilla.

Unfortunately, that path was narrow, with the ruins of a burger joint and torn-up landscape hemming us in on the other side.

We had nowhere to dodge, and another branch was dropping toward us.