The world had become more black and white. As Governments created phenomenal debts and Global Companies accrued significant assets, the world started to change. Some tried to make the world better; others didn’t care if it burned as long as they got their share. Religions too became more polarized. There were those who cared for the sick and the poor and there were those who set people on fire. Somehow they all managed to do it under the ever-widening umbrella of religion. Being independent and free-thinking didn’t cut it in the big wide world anymore. Sooner or later you had to choose a side. Apathy was off the agenda too. There were too many people with too much power. You found who you wanted to be with or they found you. Ghost still wasn't entirely clear whether he had found Gideon or Gideon had found him. But for now at least they were on the same side. Unfortunately, Ghost wasn't entirely sure whose side Gideon was on. As was his nature, Ghost had decided to wait patiently and see, but acknowledged that whilst Gideon was helping him he was an asset.
Amber re-loaded the shotgun.
Ghouls would have heard the blast. Whether they’d attack was another matter.
She looked at Ghost and tilted her head slightly “Stay or go?”
That was the question. They couldn’t handle a large pack of ghouls. But then ghouls didn’t tend to be organized. Given that they didn’t already have dozens pouring into the room and none could be seen out of the windows, Ghost was thought it was likely that there weren’t that many here. But then Ghost knew better than to trust in what was likely.
The question people normally asked Ghost was "If you can manipulate the present why don’t you win the lottery?!”. His usual answer was the most obvious; because he wasn’t the only person who walked Schrodinger’s Way. If all that did tried to influence the numbers they would just ended up pulling against each other as they would all be choosing different numbers. Now, if they all agreed on the numbers that would be different! But in order to agree they would have to be able to identify one another; that could mean serious repercussions.
“Stay.”
They moved into the next room. Bottles of chemicals were everywhere. The labels had deteriorated over time, but still there were possibilities.
On the far side of the school, in what had been the music room, a pack of ghouls paused as they heard the shotgun fire. The room was in pieces. Ghouls didn't just destroy things, they then destroyed the remains and the remains of the remains, until the room made even most sloppy teenager look positively organised by comparison. Ghouls took no pleasure or joy in anything; they destroyed because it was their nature. Anger literally flowed through their veins clouding their vision with hatred and fury. Yet for some reason they were drawn to the instruments. Flutes were smashed against drums, symbols were thrown across the room. The cacophony of broken instruments was mindless, but they never tired of it. For now the shotgun noise didn't interest them; it was far away and they were too caught up what they were doing.
Ghouls didn't prey on each other; there were no weak ghouls. The change strengthened tendons and sinew but atrophied muscles, such that the weightlifter and the geek were indistinguishable afterwards. Their paralysing touch didn't affect other ghouls either. No one was quite sure why, and it wasn't particularly safe to ask. The most common theory was that the changes to the body and brain made them immune. Elves were also immune to the effect; however again no one was quite sure why. The only thing that was said with any conviction by rather annoyed elves was that it was not because their brains had atrophied; indeed if anything, they claimed it was because their brains had evolved beyond human limitations. Naturally humans weren't convinced.
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