Two weeks.
Jake could track time properly now. Sort of.
He counted rest periods. Counted how many times the horde stopped and started. Used that to estimate days.
It wasn't perfect. But it was something.
Two weeks since he'd reached 10 EP. Two weeks of hunting whenever Kazhor left the horde.
And in those two weeks, Jake had learned something important: Hunting was hard.
Not the killing part. Once he caught prey, his wight strength made killing easy. Rabbits couldn't fight back against frozen hands that didn't feel pain.
The hard part was opportunity.
Kazhor didn't leave often. Maybe once every three or four rest periods. And when he did, he was usually only gone for an hour or two. Maybe three if Jake was lucky.
In that time, Jake had to:
Stand up (resisting the rest command)
Find prey
Stalk it
Catch it
Kill it
Hide the evidence
Return to position
All before Kazhor came back.
"It's like a really messed up speedrun. Zombie Murder Simulator. Any% world record."
The thought made him want to laugh. But dead faces didn't laugh.
Day thirty-three. Or what Jake thought was day thirty-three.
The horde rested. Kazhor rode off.
Jake stood and immediately started scanning. His dead eyes swept the landscape, looking and searching for anything he could hunt.
A fox was moving about fifty yards away. White fur barely visible against the snow.
"Too far. I'll never make it in time."
But he tried anyway. Walked toward it with steps that were faster than before. His gait was improving gradually.
Forty yards. Thirty yards.
The fox noticed him and its ears perked up. It stared at the shambling corpse approaching.
Twenty yards.
The fox's body language changed completely. It tensed up, suddenly alert. This wasn't prey. This was something wrong. Something dead that moved.
Fifteen yards.
The fox ran.
Jake broke into an awkward jog. His frozen legs pumped mechanically. Faster than a walk but nowhere near a proper run. His joints moved stiffly, each step jarring and uncoordinated.
But foxes were fast. Way faster than wights.
The fox hit full sprint in seconds. Its white form blurred across the snow, paws barely touching the ground. It zigged left, then right, then left again in evasive maneuvers.
Jake tried to follow and changed direction. His foot caught on an ice ridge.
He went down hard. Face-first into the snow. Arms splayed out. One leg bent at an awkward angle.
The fox disappeared over a ridge.
[+0 EP]
Jake lay there with his frozen face pressed into frozen snow.
"Strike one. Try again tomorrow. Or whenever the next chance comes."
He pushed himself up. His bent leg straightened with a grinding sound. No pain. Just inconvenience.
He walked back to the horde and sat down. Just in time. Kazhor appeared minutes later.
Day thirty-five.
Another chance. Kazhor rode off.
Jake spotted a rabbit immediately. Close. Fifteen yards.
He approached carefully and slowly, trying not to spook it.
Ten yards. The rabbit kept digging.
Five yards. Still digging. Its little paws scraped at the frozen ground, looking for something. Food. Shelter. Anything.
Three yards.
The rabbit's ears twitched. It looked up.
Saw Jake.
Its eyes went wide. Prey instinct kicked in.
Jake lunged with his arms outstretched, diving forward.
The rabbit bolted. Straight toward him. Between his legs.
Jake's hands closed on empty air. His body crashed into the snow where the rabbit had been.
He rolled over and watched the rabbit sprint away, its white tail bouncing.
"Strike two. It went between my legs. Between my LEGS. Outsmarted by a rabbit."
Jake lay there for a moment, staring at the gray sky.
"This is my life now. Getting dunked on by wildlife."
Day thirty-seven.
Kazhor left. Jake found two rabbits fighting. Or mating. He couldn't tell which. They were rolled up together, kicking and biting each other.
He approached from downwind. Well, from the direction the wind was blowing. Did wights have a scent? He didn't know. But it seemed smart.
Ten yards. The rabbits were still distracted and completely focused on each other.
Five yards. One rabbit had the other pinned. They thrashed in the snow.
Jake took careful steps and placed each foot deliberately. Quiet. Patient.
Three yards.
One rabbit noticed. Froze mid-thrash. Stared directly at Jake.
The other rabbit noticed too. They stopped fighting immediately. Survival instinct trumped everything else.
Jake didn't wait. Rushed forward. No finesse. Just speed.
He grabbed and caught the closer rabbit.
The other rabbit fled. Smart.
The caught rabbit screamed. That high-pitched shriek that rabbits made when dying. It twisted in his grip, surprisingly strong. Its claws raked his face. One claw caught his nose and tore it half off.
Jake held on. Got his other hand on it. Squeezed.
The rabbit bit his finger hard. Its teeth scraped bone. But Jake's grip didn't loosen.
He squeezed harder. Felt its ribs crack. The rabbit's struggles weakened. Then stopped.
[+1 EP]
[Total: 11/1,000]
Jake stood there, holding the dead rabbit. His nose was hanging by a thread of frozen flesh. Black blood dripped down his face.
"Eleven EP. Getting there."
He hid the corpse. His nose regenerated as he walked back. Bone, then cartilage, then frozen flesh. Back to normal in minutes.
"One kill in four days. Need to be faster."
The pattern continued.
Some days, Jake got lucky. Prey was close. Kazhor was gone long enough. Everything aligned.
Day thirty-nine. Another rabbit. This one was young and small. It tried to run but Jake was faster. He grabbed it, squeezed, felt its tiny ribs break.
[+1 EP]
Day forty-one. A fox appeared. This one was smarter than the first. It didn't run immediately. It circled, staying just out of reach, testing him. Jake waited patiently. The fox made a mistake and came too close. Jake lunged, caught its tail, pulled it back. The fox twisted, bit, clawed viciously. Drew black blood across Jake's arms. But Jake held on. Got his hands around its neck. Squeezed until it stopped moving.
[+2 EP]
[Total: 14/1,000]
Day forty-two. Another rabbit. Quick kill and clean.
[+1 EP]
Other days, no opportunities. Kazhor didn't leave. Or left but no prey nearby. Or prey was too fast.
Day forty brought nothing.
Day forty-three. Saw a rabbit but couldn't reach it in time.
Day forty-four brought nothing either.
[+0 EP]
[+0 EP]
[+0 EP]
It was frustrating. Slow. Grinding.
But Jake kept at it.
"This is what I do. I'm a software engineer. I know grinding. Spent six months debugging legacy code last year. This is just... zombie grinding. Same concept. Find bug. Kill bug. Get points."
The comparison was stupid. But it helped.
Day forty-five.
Kazhor rode off. Jake stood.
And saw something new.
Not a rabbit. Not a fox.
A bird. Large one. White. Sitting on an ice formation twenty yards away. Some kind of arctic bird. Hawk, maybe? Or an owl? Jake didn't know birds.
It sat motionless with its head swiveling occasionally. Watching for prey of its own.
Jake had seen birds before. Usually frozen and already dead. But this one was alive and preening its feathers.
"Birds. I haven't tried birds yet."
He approached slowly. The bird watched him with black eyes.
Ten yards. Still watching.
Five yards. The bird ruffled its feathers and stood up on the ice.
Three yards. The bird's wings spread slightly.
Two yards.
The bird took off. Wings flapping. Rising into the air.
"Damn it. Of course. Birds can fly."
Jake watched it go. It circled once, then landed on a different ice formation farther away. Still watching him.
"Unless..."
An idea formed. Fuzzy through the fog, but an idea.
"Next time. If I can get close enough, maybe I can jump? Wight reflexes are slow but... maybe?"
It was worth trying.
Day forty-seven.
Another bird. Different spot. Sitting on the ground this time, tearing at something. Frozen meat. Probably another animal's kill.
Jake approached carefully and slowly. Each step was deliberate.
The bird was focused on its meal and ripping with its beak. Not paying attention.
Ten yards. It didn't notice.
Seven yards. Still eating.
Five yards. The bird's head came up. It saw him. Eyes focused.
Three yards. The bird stood. Wings spreading. Preparing to take off.
Jake lunged and threw himself forward. Arms reaching. Diving through the air.
His hand caught a wing and grabbed feathers.
The bird shrieked. A piercing sound, different from the rabbits' screams. Louder. More aggressive.
It flapped its other wing. The wing in Jake's grip flapped too, pulling hard. The bird had strength. Way more than Jake expected.
Jake's grip slipped. The bird pulled away.
No. No, he'd come too far.
Jake grabbed with his other hand and caught the bird's body. Pulled it down to the snow.
The bird fought. Oh, it fought. Its beak stabbed at his face repeatedly. Sharp and designed for tearing meat. It punched holes in his frozen cheek. Tore at his eye. The blue glow flickered.
Its talons raked his chest. Sharp claws meant for catching fish or small mammals. They tore through his ragged furs, ripped into his frozen flesh. Black blood sprayed.
One talon caught his wrist and dug deep. Scraped bone.
But Jake held on. Used both hands. Pinned the wings. The bird couldn't fly if it couldn't spread its wings.
It thrashed. Pecked. Scratched. Drew black blood from a dozen wounds.
Jake squeezed harder and harder.
The bird's beak opened. Closed. Opened again. Gasping.
Then went still.
[+2 EP]
[Total: 16/1,000]
Jake lay in the snow, covered in black blood, holding a dead bird. His face had holes in it. His eye was damaged again. His chest was torn open with frozen ribs visible.
But he'd won.
"Two points! Same as a fox! Birds are worth two points!"
He looked at the bird. White feathers stained black and red. Bigger than he'd expected. Probably weighed as much as a rabbit.
"Okay. New priority list. Birds and foxes are worth 2 EP. Target those when possible. Rabbits are backup."
He hid the bird's body and returned to position. Sat down.
His wounds were already regenerating. The holes in his face filling in. His eye reforming. His chest knitting back together.
Kazhor appeared minutes later. Didn't notice anything.
Jake sat perfectly still. Empty stare. Mindless.
"That was worth it. Two points. Definitely worth the damage."
Over the next week, Jake hunted whenever possible.
Day forty-nine. Rabbit. Routine and quick.
[+1 EP]
Day fifty. Missed a fox. It was too smart and stayed out of range. Jake tried for twenty minutes but couldn't close the distance. Kazhor would be back soon. He gave up.
[+0 EP]
Day fifty-one. Another bird. This one was easier. He knew what to expect now. Grabbed it before it could fly. Pinned the wings. Held on through the pecking and scratching.
[+2 EP]
Day fifty-two. Rabbit. Quick kill.
[+1 EP]
Day fifty-four. Nothing for two days. No opportunities. Frustrating but unavoidable.
[+0 EP]
Day fifty-five. Rabbit. Clean kill.
[+1 EP]
[Total: 22/1,000]
Twenty-two EP. 2.2% control.
The fog was still heavy. Still thick. But definitely lighter than before.
Jake could hold thoughts for longer now. Could remember sequences of events. Could plan maybe two or three steps ahead instead of just one.
"I'm getting better at this. Faster. More efficient. The first few kills took forever. Now I can go from standing to killing to hiding in under twenty minutes if the prey is close."
Progress. Real, measurable progress.
"Need 978 more EP. Still a long way to go. But... but I'm moving. I'm not stuck. I'm grinding forward."
He looked at his frozen hands. Stained with black blood and animal blood. Dead hands that moved because he willed them to.
"Birds are 2 EP. Foxes are 2 EP. Rabbits are 1 EP. If I average 1.5 EP per kill... that's about 650 more kills. If I get one kill every two days... that's 1,300 days. Three and a half years."
The math was depressing. But at least he could do basic math now through the fog.
"Unless I can hunt bigger prey. Wolves. Maybe even that polar bear if I get strong enough."
It was something to aim for. A long-term goal.
"One point at a time. That's all it takes. Just keep grinding."
The horde sat in the snow. Mindless. Empty.
But Jake Morrison was not empty.