The Living Hell, which according to Stu's ICON system was a Level 25 Mutate, immediately began attacking the Dealership -- roaring, swinging its huge tail, and sinking its teeth into anything it could catch. One of Madhouse's goons was too close to the creature when it burst out of the shipping container, and paid for it by being crushed to death beneath one of its clawed feet; another man was slashed open, practically ripped in half.

  The Wild Pack gangsters made no effort to combat the thing, however; their priority was escape. Madhouse had obviously intended to ride away on Luna's glider, but she had him pinned down behind that stack of cinder blocks -- every time he poked his head out she opened fire at him, blasting him with Stu's Midnighter. Stu wished she would give it up; he only had a few rounds left in that gun.

  Besides, the real threat here wasn't Madhouse or his men -- it was the Living Hell. How in the world were they going to kill this thing? Could it even be killed? The Brute had been a Level 10, and they had only barely managed to kill it. The rager, which Stu had struggled to subdue back at Southside Elementary School, had only been a Level 3. And mutates were, according to virtually everyone he had talked to, the most dangerous kind of zombie. One of these things had killed Virge, and Virge had had access to the ICON system and its special skills, just like Stu.

  Killing this monster was not necessarily his responsibility, of course. He didn't have to stick around for this; he could always grab Lucky and Luna and run them out of the Dealership, and leave the creature to the Pale Riders. That would probably be the sensible thing to do.

  He had been thinking a lot about bravery these past few days, however, and of what it meant to live in a world like this -- a world in the grip of a zombie apocalypse, where life was cheap, where violent gangs roamed the streets, and where good people like Lucky and Luna were forced to barricade themselves in fortified settlements like Harbor. Being thrust into this world, after growing up in a boring, safe, suburban neighborhood, where nothing bad ever really seemed to happen, had opened his eyes, forced him to think about things that he had never thought about before.

  What kind of a person was Stuart Brakely? He wasn't a coward, exactly, but he had spent most of his life avoiding difficulties, avoiding challenges, avoiding real responsibility. He had been content to spend his days watching TV and playing video games. He had never really engaged with the world; instead, he had done his best to retreat from it. He had always taken the path of least resistance.

  His family and friends had recognized this. Berly had recognized it; that was why she had dumped him.

  But he was in different world now, a world in which he had to face up to certain challenges. This was a world where things like cowardice and courage mattered, where death was always right around the corner, where desperate people were forced to do desperate things to survive. He couldn't run away from things here. He had to engage with this world. He had to start living a real life.

  And in addition to all that, he had Virge's ICON system stuck in his brain. The system gifted him with unusual powers, powers that he knew he ought to try to use responsibly. He could help people here. He could save lives.

  And so, even though his body was screaming at him to run and hide, he gathered up his courage and rose to his feet to face the Living Hell.

  The monster had just used its thick tail to demolish a ramshackle wooden dwelling, sending splinters of wood flying through the air. Stu raised the shotgun he had just commandeered from the Wild Pack thug and opened fire, hitting it in the side.

  It didn't even notice it.

  Stu realized, to his dismay, that the mutate's thick, armored hide had protected it -- the slug from the shotgun had merely bounced off it. Would a higher-caliber, higher-velocity gun work better?

  "Lucky! Your railgun!"

  The kid was still crouched down, however, and was looking up at him with wide eyes. "You're not really thinking about fighting that thing?"

  "We don't have much choice."

  "It's a mutate! Do you have any idea how tough those things are?"

  "It's a Level 25," he acknowledged, taking the railgun from Lucky's hands. He pressed the activation button on the built-in touch screen, as he had seen Lucky do many times; this charged the rails and caused the gun to vibrate slightly in his hands. Aiming it at the monster, he fired several shots, but these, too, merely ricocheted off the Living Hell's silvery scales. He handed the gun back to Lucky.

  "Nail said Madhouse was able to stun it with his Centurion rifle," the kid noted.

  Stu glanced at Madhouse, who was now firing back on their position with a pistol. He had the Centurion rifle slung over his back; Stu could just see it poking up over the man's shoulder.

  He sighed. This was a terrible idea, but... "All right," he said. "I'll try to distract the Living Hell. You and Luna work on getting that Centurion rifle away from Madhouse."

  "I think that's going to be easier said than done," he muttered.

  "I think so, too," he muttered back. Discarding the shotgun, he raised his aluminum baseball bat -- Excalibur -- and ran straight for the monster.

  The beast spotted him almost immediately, its red eyes glinting. With remarkable speed, it swung its tail around, attempting to slam him with it. The tail was as thick as the trunk of a small tree, and if it had hit him it would have caved in his chest and sent him flying a hundred feet, but Stu, faster now with his Speed Freak skill, was able to avoid it by ducking beneath it, and then rolling out of the way when it came whipping at him again. The tail did, however, strike the windows of the car dealership, shattering them, and raining glass all over the scene.

  Stu was close enough now that the Living Hell couldn't hit him with its tail, so it changed tactics, trying to slash at him with its sickle-shaped claws. Stu managed to dodge these slashes as well, but just barely, and when it came at him again, its claws ripping at him like a velociraptor, he was forced to try to defend himself with the bat, bringing it up just in time to block another slash. The impact was tremendous. Stu was able to hold on to the bat -- again, just barely -- but the force behind the blow knocked him back, sending him skidding over the dusty pavement. Having gained some distance, the monster once again tried to crush him with its tail, forcing him to retreat from it.

  The thing was fast. Even with his Speed Freak skill, he couldn't quite time its attacks. And it was strong, too, and big, ferocious. It was like trying to fight a goddamn dinosaur. Had this thing really been a human at one point? What kind of infection was this, that it could transform a human being into a beast of this size?

  He threw a glance in the direction of Lucky and Luna. The two of them were working their way around a series of wrecked cars, trying to get closer to Madhouse -- who was still pinned down behind the cinder blocks, but who was now taking potshots at them as well, trying to maneuver his way to Luna's glider to make his escape. Stu was worried for the siblings; a single stray bullet could end either of their lives. And he had seen Madhouse fight; the man was formidable. Could they really get the Centurion rifle away from him?

  Unfortunately this seemed to be the only solution available to them at the moment -- the Living Hell was roaring and rampaging through the Dealership, and it was liable to kill everyone in the settlement if it wasn't stopped, along with the unsuspecting Pale Riders.

  Stu forced himself to focus on the monster. The thing had to have a weakness. Its armor protected it from gunfire, but it wasn't armored all over its body; its eyes were still vulnerable, along with its snout. Could he hit it with his Dead Aim skill? Could he kill it, or wound it at least, by throwing a knife in its eye, as he had with the Brute? The rager he had fought back at Southside had managed to deflect the knife he had thrown at it, but he was faster now.

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  He still had a couple of four-inch-long throwing knives on his belt; he pulled one out to test its weight. He could throw the knife from here, and hope that it found its target, but he would have a better chance of hitting the thing, and of doing some real damage, if he got closer. So, taking a deep breath, he once again gathered up his courage and rushed towards the reptilian monster.

  This time it tried to stomp on him with its enormous forelegs. Stu dove out of the way, hopped up on the hood of one of the junked cars, and readied the knife, but the Living Hell was faster than he had expected; it whirled on him, its jaws snapping, which forced him to jump off the car and retreat. Then, to Stu's amazement, it lifted the entire car off the ground, sending it hurtling end-over-end, in the direction of Lucky, Luna, and Madhouse. All three of them were forced to abandon their positions to get out of its way, which only added to the danger and confusion of the scene.

  Now caught out in the open, Stu had no choice but to make a break for it. With the bat in one hand and the knife still in the other, he started running, turning a corner around the big dealership building while leading it away from Lucky and Luna. The creature was a wrecking ball; it destroyed everything in its path. Fortunately most of the people of the Dealership seemed to have left the immediate area, or to have taken cover elsewhere.

  Thinking he might have a better shot at the creature if he climbed up on the wall of stacked-up cars surrounding the settlement, he ducked out of the monster's sight as it was crashing through a shanty and quickly scrambled up to the top. He ran along these makeshift walls, keeping pace with the Living Hell as it stormed through the Dealership. From here, he could see that a dozen men, dressed in black leather and riding gleaming white motorcycles, had just cruised in through the open gate. Their engines rumbled ominously.

  These must have been the Pale Riders. They were outfitted with all manner of weapons -- rifles, shotguns, even swords and axes -- but the Living Hell caught them unawares. The monster surged towards them, sweeping through the broken homes and tents, its decaying wings flapping uselessly on it back.

  Stu, seeing the danger, propelled himself forward as fast as he could. He managed to get just a bit ahead of it; then, skidding to a stop, he drew back his arm and used Dead Aim.

  The blade flew through the air, as straight as an arrow, and struck the monster in the pulsating orb of its left eye. It crashed to a stop, roaring in pain.

  The knife had hurt hit, but it hadn't killed it. Stu, taking the bat with both hands, decided to push his luck. Leaping off the wall of cars, and using gravity to add extra force to the blow, he slammed the bat into the Living Hell's alligator-like snout.

  The monster crumpled to the ground, falling onto its belly. But Stu, who had jumped off the twenty-foot-high wall of cars, hit the ground hard, too, after flailing through the air. He landed on the cracked pavement, dazed, his hands still vibrating from the titanic blow he had just delivered. Somehow, the bat was still in his hands.

  He looked up at the Living Hell, which was right in front of him. Had he killed it?

  No, he hadn't. Blood was coming out of its nose, but the "Level 25 Mutate" identifier was still hanging over its head, and even now, it was shaking its head to clear it. It got to its feet and roared right in Stu's face; he could smell its hot, fetid breath. The knife was still stuck in its eye.

  And then it snapped at him. He swung the bat at its mouth, just before it could clamp down on him, and hit one of its huge, pointed teeth. He might have loosened the tooth, because the monster reared back and cried out. Stu stumbled away from it -- he was far too close to this thing -- but not quickly enough; in a half-blind fury, the monster attacked him, one of its claws slashing at him. As before, he managed to deflect the blow with the bat, preventing the razor-sharp claw from cutting into him, but the impact sent him tumbling through the air. He crashed into one of the ramshackle wooden huts that been constructed in the Dealership's parking lot, breaking through a wall and collapsing the whole thing. He was covered in dust and debris.

  And this time he was hurt. His right arm, which he had used to catch the blow, was numb -- his fingers felt like wood -- and he was bleeding from his side. What's more, he was dazed and dizzy, and after finally managing to climb out of the rubble and onto his feet, he staggered and stumbled around.

  He was starting to hear gunfire again now -- the Pale Riders had started firing their guns at the Living Hell. They were disorganized, though, and not really taking the time to aim, which meant that most of their bullets simply rebounded off the monster's incredibly thick armor. Recovered from Stu's blow to its snout, it started chasing them, shrugging off their gunfire and swatting at them like a huge cat. One man was thrown from his motorcycle; two more simply ran away in a panic. Another man -- a man in his sixties, with long white hair and a long white beard, who looked like a living scarecrow and who was holding a rifle with a bayonet affixed to the barrel, was trying to rally the others, booming at them in a deep, thundering voice, but few were listening to him.

  Stu wasn't sure how much more he could do here -- confronting the Living Hell directly was foolhardy. He needed that Centurion rifle.

  He was just about to turn around, to check on Lucky and Luna, when suddenly Luna's glider came flying out from around the other side of the office building, its back end swinging wildly. It clipped the corner of the building, and then careened off course, banging into other cars and oil barrels. Wiping the blood and sweat from his eyes, Stu saw that Madhouse was behind the wheel, but that Luna was in the vehicle with him, struggling with him, trying to buffalo him with Stu's Midnighter. Madhouse, who also appeared to be wounded, was desperately trying to keep control of the glider.

  ...Which was headed right for Stu.

  He had only a fraction of a section to get out of the glider's way. But he didn't get out of its way. Instead, seized by a sudden impulse, he waited for it to fly close, called upon his speed to get the timing right, and hurled himself into the back of the convertible. His landing was less than perfect -- his foot snagged on the door as he made the jump, which caused him to crash-land face first into the cushioned backseat. His Excalibur-brand bat went flying out of his hand as well. But he was in.

  Luna was standing up in the passenger seat, swearing a blue streak as she battered Madhouse with the grip of the gun. Even she was startled to see Stu leap into the glider, however, her dark eyes widening in surprise. "Stu...?"

  Madhouse, on the other hand, was too busy fighting with the glider, and fending off Luna, to have even noticed Stu. They were still crashing into things, leaving dents and scrapes in Luna's poor glider and knocking them all around within the cab.

  And now they were headed for the Living Hell.

  Stu righted himself and stood up in the backseat. Using his Strong Arm-enhanced strength, he seized Madhouse by the back of his heavy coat, lifted him completely out of the seat, and hurled him out of the vehicle. The gang leader hit the pavement at a good twenty miles per hour, rolling over it, and coming to a stop not far from where the Living Hell was rampaging. A second later, Luna grabbed the glider's steering wheel with one hand, causing them to veer sharply to their right.

  It took her several more seconds to wiggle into the driver's seat and bring the glider back under control. It came to a stop about twenty feet away from a group of Pale Riders, led by the white-bearded man Stu had noticed earlier.

  The Living Hell was coming for them, the earth shaking with its every footfall.

  Madhouse was right in its path. He managed to get to his feet, but the Living Hell slashed him open in the next second, ripping into his chest cavity. Blood flew out of him, filling the air like a warm summer rain.

  Stu heard a voice shouting his name. Turning, he saw that Lucky was limping over to them, Madhouse's Centurion rifle in his hands. "I got it!" he shouted. "I got it!"

  The monster, having just disemboweled Madhouse, turned to look at the kid, its teeth bared. Luna screamed.

  Desperate to distract it, Stu snatched the rifle -- the one with the bayonet -- out of the hands of the old man who had been attempting to rally the Pale Riders. Heedless of the danger, he rushed forward, shouting at the beast, which swung its horned head around to face him. Stu thought it might try to strike him with its claws, or rip him to shreds with its teeth, but instead it lowered its head and charged him like a bull. Not knowing what else to do, Stu defended himself with the rifle, holding it up horizontally, and in the next instant, the monster's horns slammed into him.

  But he held his ground. With every last bit of strength remaining to him, and in full view of Luna, Lucky, and the Pale Riders, he singlehandedly held the two-ton beast at bay, straining against it, pushing it back.

  And then the rifle snapped in half, and he went flying backwards. The Living Hell lifted its head and roared up at the sky, its stunted wings fluttering.

  "Stu!" Lucky shouted again. "Here!"

  Stu turned just in time to catch the Centurion rifle, which Lucky had tossed at him. Praying that the weapon was charged up and ready to fire -- he had no idea how to operate this thing, apart from the pulling the trigger -- he lifted it to his shoulder, aimed, and fired.

  There was a slight delay, and for a split-second Stu was afraid that the gun wouldn't work. But then it started humming, and the humming rose steadily in pitch, and suddenly a blazing projectile, something like ball lightning, exploded out of the barrel and struck the Living Hell in the center of the chest. The monster stopped and began to shake, as though it had just bitten into a high voltage cable. It remained on its feet for perhaps two or three seconds, then fell, its legs giving out from under it.

  Stu wasn't about to leave it at that, though. He fired again, and again, hitting it with more and more of these plasmic blasts, until the rifle started beeping some kind of alarm and stopped working. Then, while the others watched in amazement, he picked up the broken rifle he had taken from the old man and drove its bayonet into the back of the creature's skull, pressing through its armored scales until it gave way, penetrating the monster's brain.

  And with that, his own legs gave out. Utterly exhausted, he fell away from the Living Hell, landing on his back, looking up at the sky.

  An ICON message appeared in front of his eyes:

  Level 25 Mutate defeated!

  Quest "Madhouse Mayhem" completed!

  Level Up! 10-18

  Critical Bonus!

  Gained 17 SP!

  Access Menu?

  It was the last thing he saw before he passed out.