Survival Queen of the Frozen Wastes novel Chapter 25

Chapter 25 Steel Spears

This way I won’t take up much room.

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Back in her old world, Riley had been the kind of person who watched cat videos until three in the morning. She’d virtually fostered about a million digital kittens. And now, here in the frozen apocalypse, she had a real one. A shapeshifting one.

“Oh my God…

The sound that came out of her mouth was somewhere between a gasp and a squeak.

Before she knew it, her hands were moving. She scooped up that tiny ball of fluff.

The feel of it?

Better than silk. Warmer than any hand warmer she’d ever owned.

Riley couldn’t help herself. She buried her face in that little belly–it smelled faintly of flowers-—and breathed deep. Then she rubbed her cheek against that fuzzy little head.

“You are the cutest thing I have ever seen!”

The kitten in her arms went completely rigid.

It–no, she had turned into a cat to save space. Not to get… well… manhandled like this.

The kitten froze. Turned her head away stiffly. Those pink ears flattened back against her head. And her eyes? They held this very human expression of total embarrassment. If she’d been in human form right now, her face would’ve been beet red.

Feeling that little body go stiff, Riley’s brain finally caught up with her.

Wait.

This looked like a cat. But inside? That was a person. A young woman.

Had she just acted like some kind of creep?

Riley coughed. Awkward. She loosened her grip and set the kitten back on the pillow.

“Ahem. Right. Sleep.”

She made a sleeping gesture–probably looked guilty as hell–then yanked the covers up and rolled over. Trying to pretend that didn’t just happen.

The kitten stayed on the pillow. Blinking. Confused but also kind of wary, like she was checking to make sure Riley wasn’t going to pounce again.

After a minute, though? The warmth from the bedding won. She curled up right there by the pillow.

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Chapter 25 Steel Spears

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The bedroom was warm as spring. The little white cat–Sylvie–was already balled up, soft purrs rumbling from her tiny body.

Riley stood there for a second. Pulled the covers up around the cat. Then turned and quietly slipped out. The heavy wooden door creaked open. Freezing wind hit her face, carrying ice crystals.

“Whew.”

Camp rules kept it from being truly cold, though.

The bonfire still burned bright in the courtyard. But at the edges of the light? Right outside that wooden fence? Shadows moved. Lurked.

“Groan…”

In the fire’s glow, Riley could see purplish–gray arms reaching through gaps in the fence. Clawing at nothing.

She didn’t move. Just watched for a while.

Yeah. There it was.

Those Ghouls were slow. But more importantly? They couldn’t see her. Not through the fence.

“Safe zone. System protected.”

She filed that away.

Camp was secure for now. She didn’t go back inside. Leaned against a porch post instead and pulled up her interface.

The survival count in the corner made her stomach drop.

“Current Regional Survivors: 3082/10000”

One night.

Just the first wave of Ghouls, and over a thousand people had vanished from a region that started with four thousand.

She tapped open “Server Channel“.

Late night. But everyone was awake.

“Thought I was dead. Thing almost had my throat. Thank god someone yelled to stay inside the fence!”

“There’s screaming everywhere out there. I can’t even look.”

“What kind of sick game is this? Freeze, starve, now monsters? They trying to kill us all?”

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20:16 Mon, May 4

Chapter 25 Steel Spears

“Quit crying. Save your energy.”

“Need weapons. Real weapons. Got materials, who’s selling?”

Riley scrolled through. Reading the desperate requests.

Lack of weapons.

That was the big problem. The one thing everyone had in common.

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Most people only had those basic stone axes or stone spears from day one. Low durability. Pathetic damage.

Against Ghouls? Might as well be throwing cotton balls.

Riley’s hand drifted to the axes at her waist.

She was lucky. And unlucky.

Unlucky–that “Unlucky Fool” title.

Lucky because that same title gave her all–around stat boosts. Strong body. Paired with good weapons? Ghouls weren’t that hard.

“Can’t expect everyone to have my setup though.”

She pressed her lips together.

Watching those numbers keep dropping? Felt wrong.

Not just sympathy. Practical. She needed these people alive.

Her cursed luck meant she’d never find the good stuff in crates. If she wanted to live comfortable– upgrade stuff, grow food, build–she needed other players out there scavenging. Then trading that stuff to her.