Muttering voices and shuffling feet made Father turn with the shotgun raised. All of the isopods, including Pleven, stood in the doorway. Father immediately lowered the shotgun.

  “He’s dead?” an isopod asked.

  “Yes.” Father walked at them, expecting the isopods to part and let him through. Instead, they just all stood still. “Excuse me.”

  “Oh.”

  Isopods bumped into one another as the group shifted and attempted to move aside. It took a minute for them to actually create enough room for Father to push through without knocking any of the small creatures over.

  He left the confused employees of Trash Co. behind and ventured back to his car. Sirens wailed in the distance, still too far to be of any concern. As soon as Father slumped down into the driver’s seat, he focused on the little glowing mark in the corner of his vision.

  Abilities:

  Hurdle

  Javelin Throw

  Hammer Throw

  High Jump

  Sprint

  Endure

  Father rubbed at the injury on his head. Of everything that had changed or disappeared after dying, the forehead injury was the one constant. Even if he braced or flinched as soon as he respawned, he still always hit his head on the steering wheel.

  “These are just for track,” Father said. He poked Hammer Throw.

  Hammer Throw

  The ability to throw anything on the end of a chain, rope, or other tether device great distances.

  Does not include hammers.

  “How is any of this going to be helpful?” Father started the car, glanced at the group of isopods that had followed him out, and put the car in drive.

  The abilities weren’t quite what he was expecting, but he was sure there was something useful about them. Maybe there wasn’t. Father pulled away from Trash Co. and headed back to the main road of the trench. It was a long drive to the Reef.

  He stopped at a stop sign, glanced down at his fuel indicator, and sighed. He did have some wallets, but stopping to get gas while covered in blood was maybe not the best idea.

  Sirens grew close enough that the flashing red and blue lights shone on the algae-covered walls.

  Father put his car in park.

  If he wanted to leave the trench without difficulty in the future, he had to consider stopping the receptionist from calling the cops. Maybe it was one of the isopods, but they seemed too confused or weird to call the police.

  For now, instead of stopping to get gas and getting in a situation in which he might get caught unaware, he could just take a police car. They were in better shape than his car, especially after he had crashed it into the lobster.

  As much as he wanted to believe this life was the life where he would save his Son, Father knew he would likely die again and have to find new solutions. Killing pigfish just for a car was maybe not his best idea, but it also wasn’t his worst. They weren’t his friends. They weren’t his allies. As far as he could tell, most of the pigfish, especially in the Reef, were just paid off by the Hardbody Crustaceans anyway.

  A police car sped through the intersection, turning on squealing tires, and stopped in front of Trash Co. The isopods flinched back, but just stared at Father’s distant car.

  He only had enough gas to get part way to the Reef.

  “Anything to save my Son.”

  Father put the car in drive, cranked the wheel, and turned through the intersection. He floored it, sending the car speeding straight at the pigfish. The wheel popped over the sidewalk, almost swerved out of the control, then plowed directly into the unsuspecting fish.

  Pigfish and isopods tumbled through the water as Father slammed on the brakes. He climbed out of the car with handguns ready. His aim had improved over the various lives in which he had used guns, but he was still far from accurate. The first three shots from each gun hit random isopods, which finally caused the little creatures to scurry away.

  Both pigfish had time to pull out their own weapons and fire. The chaos of the situation caused them to shoot almost as poorly as Father. A few bullets grazed his shell as Father emptied his left gun, finally killing one pigfish.

  The second pigfish had a well-placed shot that bore a hole through Father’s left leg, just below the hem of his shorts. Father fell against the side of his car and put a bullet through the last pigfish.

  Blood leaked into the water and waves of nausea passed through Father. He hadn’t died from a pigfish, so he wouldn’t get a debuff. With some effort, he pushed himself up and looked at his leg.

  A lot of blood was flowing from the wound. A lot. Too much.

  Bleeding out could still count as dying from a pigfish, and that debuff was too severe to deal with again. He would never reach the Reef with so much attention on himself.

  Father put the handgun against his head.

  What was a checkpoint for if not trying again?

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Return to Checkpoint 1 or Return to Start?

  Father floated in what felt like an infinite void of nothingness. The only thing in his vision were the words floating before him, but even as he tried to move his arms or wiggle his legs, nothing happened. He was in some space in between death and life, or something. Every other death had led abruptly back to life. This was the first time he had existed somewhere in between.

  It was only a matter of focusing on the words Checkpoint 1 that caused reality to appear in the distance. It zoomed closer like he was falling. Then sensation returned and Father screamed. His stomach lurched as he plummeted through the void toward the corpse of Mister Logs.

  Returned to Checkpoint 1.

  Beginning Run 16.

  Attributes set.

  Strength 5

  Endurance 15

  Agility 30

  Intelligence 0

  Luck 0

  Class set.

  Athlete.

  Father turned away from the corpse of Mister Logs. He wasn’t sure if it would count as another run if he didn’t return to start.

  None of those athlete abilities had actually helped him during his little shootout. Either he needed to actually activate the abilities for them to do anything or they were even more useless than he had originally suspected.

  If another run or two didn’t work, he would just return to the start and fight Mister Logs again to choose a new class. Resetting his attributes might also be necessary, but he had grown used to the high agility.

  Father turned to the isopods. “If you don’t run away, I’m going to shoot you.” He aimed the shotgun.

  The isopods started screaming and running. It mostly involved them bumping into each other and crashing into the wall, but after a minute they managed to clear out of the lobby.

  Father walked out to the lobby, nodded to the receptionist, and waited at the curb as the police sirens grew ever closer. The police car stopped right before him with their window rolled down.

  “We got a call from this address. Do you know what’s happening?”

  Father reached inside with his handgun, pressed the barrel against the pigfish’s head, and killed both in a few simple shots.

  “No abilities needed.” He tossed the corpses out, looted ammo, and climbed into the driver’s seat. A quick glance at the dead pigfish made Father’s stomach churn a little.

  Once he finally saved his Son, if the loop ended, Father knew he would be arrested or executed for everyone he was killing.

  “Anything to save my Son.” He put the car in drive, turned off the siren, and drove away from Trash Co.

  Getting to the Reef wasn’t complicated. It was only a matter of time and patience. The police car drove well and didn’t have any of the same clanking concerns that had found him stranded at a gas station in what felt like a few lifetimes ago.

  Father slowed upon entering the Reef. He took the bridge carefully, ensuring he wouldn’t smash into a building on the other side. It was into the afternoon by the time he arrived, which meant the city was far more alive and busy compared to his previous visits. Driving straight from his home had him arriving at the Reef before noon. Now, leaving Trash Co. after the checkpoint, he would always be arriving after noon.

  Signs provided the names of the streets, but not the regions or neighborhoods. Father rolled alongside the curb, squinting and trying to find his location. Mister Logs had said the Hardbody Crustaceans operated out of the Buttress, but Father didn’t have the slightest idea as to where that might be.

  Some patrons of the streetside restaurants gave him odd looks as he rolled by. He hadn’t previously considered how out of place he would look while driving a police car. Father wouldn’t cover his muscular body with clothes, so he just turned his gaze away from the onlookers and pretended as if he belonged.

  The Reef itself didn’t appear to be a haven for the Hardbody Crustaceans. There wasn’t a gang member on every corner and nobody was harassing him. Originally, he had suspected it would be a swarming mess of shellfish and angry cod. At least it would have been easy to find where to go.

  There was likely another checkpoint or two elsewhere in the world, but where and who was entirely a mystery. If checkpoint one gave a class, what could the other checkpoints give him?

  Every part of the system, from the attributes to the classes and the respawn, was still mysterious and Father was afraid to ask or investigate. If he mentioned the respawning to someone, would they be able to intervene? Was anyone else in the system?

  All questions that would need to be answered by someone eventually, but Father had to find someone to ask first. People already seemed to think he was crazy and he didn’t want to give them more reasons to worry.

  He finally pulled the car over at the edge of a blue coral skyscraper. A multi-tiered parking garage stretched out from the building, but instead of cars occupying the half-cement, half-coral structure, a group of Hardbody Crustaceans stood around a few barrels that glowed with warm light.

  It was an opportunity to get some directions, practice using his abilities, and get some revenge.

  Father put the car in park and flicked on the lights. Red and blue flashed across the hardened faces of shellfish and some scraggly fish that Father didn’t recognize.

  A particularly rough looking blue crab said something to his comrades before walking away from the group. A large gun stuck out of his waistband, making an odd bulge in the blue crab’s pants. Father wasn’t familiar enough with guns to recognize what the Hardbody Crustacean had, but he figured a gun was a gun and his shotgun and handguns would do the same job.

  “You ain’t from the Reef,” the blue crab said as he approached. His eyes flicked to the side of the police car. “What’s a trench pig doing here?”

  “I’m looking for the Buttress.”

  The blue crab nodded to his hand, which firmly gripped the gun in his pants. “Who’s asking?”

  “Father of the sexiest lobster.” Father aimed his shotgun. “Where’s my Son?”

  The blue crab started to pull his gun free. Father immediately pulled the trigger, and nothing happened. He pumped the shotgun and pulled the trigger again, and still nothing.

  Father shifted his grip on the shotgun, preparing to throw it at the blue crab.

  Javelin Throw

  Father focused on the words as they appeared. Instead of a simple toss out of the window, his shotgun suddenly became a true projectile. Even while sitting and throwing awkwardly, the shotgun left the police car with enough speed to toss the blue crab onto his back.

  The crab pulled the gun free and sprayed bullets wildly into the water as he fell. That spurred the rest of the Hardbody Crustaceans into movement. Father opened the door, pulled the handguns free, and put a bullet into the blue crab before he could get to his feet.

  Father turned the guns toward everyone else and started firing. He only shot a few times before both guns clicked, and he hadn’t hit a thing. Father fumbled with the guns, trying to eject the magazines.

  One dropped out, but he hadn’t grabbed the spares from his passenger seat. Father adjusted his grip on the empty gun, hoping to see another ability prompt. Nothing appeared, so he just chucked the gun toward the charging Hardbody Crustaceans.

  A dozen pissed off fish and shellfish were running directly at him with bats, crowbars, and knives, and Father had nothing. He shifted his stance and sighed.

  Sprint

  He activated it and wailed as his body was launched forward faster than he had ever run before. The group was suddenly right before him, raising weapons to beat Father to death.

  Hurdle

  He felt his body bounce, though he wasn’t in control at all. It was like occupying a vehicle controlled by a professional athlete. Father sailed over the entire group and landed perfectly on the opposite side.

  All of that was great for avoiding the obvious imminent death he was about to face, but none of the athlete abilities, besides maybe javelin throw, seemed to assist in fighting at all.

  A cod grabbed the gun from the dead blue crab.

  “Wait,” Father said.

  A spray of bullets hit nearly every bit of Father. No hurdling, high jumping, or sprinting could help him survive.

  Return to Checkpoint 1 or Return to Start?

  Returned to Start.