by N M Tatum
Reggie, Cody and Joel picked off the bugs without having to step away from the tent. Sam chased them down, venting her frustration on the ShimVens in profoundly gruesome ways. The guys almost started to feel sorry for them.
With the bugs dead moments later, Reggie set about soothing Sam with a ball of homespun sugar thread before she turned homicidal. He recalled all of his one summer’s worth of experience to make her a mound of pink cotton candy.
She shoved a handful of it into her mouth. She seemed pleased at first, but quickly grew irritated.
“You must have made it wrong. It dissolved before I could eat it.”
“No, it’s supposed to do that,” Reggie said. “It’s just sugar. It dissolves as soon as it gets wet.”
Sam scowled. “Torture.” She dropped the cotton candy on the ground and set her death stare on the guys.
They said silent prayers that she would kill them quickly.
Then Reggie got an idea.
“The gift shop!” He yelled it like it was answer to a riddle. The others looked at him like he’d uttered nonsense. “It’ll have candy. Gift shops always have candy. Chocolate.”
Sam seemed to fall into a trance, like the mere mention of the word had hypnotized her. She snapped out of it. “You’ve bought yourself a stay of execution. Where is this gift shop?”
Cody looked over the schematics, but Joel spoke before he could locate it.
“The exit. They always put the gift shop at the exit. You have to walk through it to get out, and tired parents have to drag their kids past toys and candy before they can leave.”
“And they call me merciless,” Sam said. “Let’s move.”
“Wait,” Reggie said. “We have to go through the whole park before we get to the exit, anyway. We can take out the ShimVens on the way. Clear the park, get some candy, get out of here. What do you say?”
Sam considered it. “We move quick. Split up. Turn on the power to the entire park and flush out all the creepy bastards at once.”
The guys did not want to split up. But the alternative was worse.
“Okay,” they all said at once.
“I’ll post up on the top of the roller coaster,” Joel said. “Pick them off with my rifle.”
Cody raised a tentative hand. “Can I make one amendment to the ‘flush them all out at once’ plan?”
Sam snarled at him, but did not otherwise object.
“I’ll bring the power up one section at a time, starting in the front of the park, and flush them all back toward the exit. The swarm will come charging straight at us.” Cody raised his eyebrows and waited for a response.
Sam nodded.
Cody realized then how absurd it was that he took that as a victory, winning the right to stand on the wrong end of a bug stampede. He pulled the park schematics for the team to see. “I still think we should split up, though.” He traced three separate paths from the park entrance to the exit on the map. “The bugs will follow one of these three routes. Reggie, Sam and I can each post at one of these intersections. If we get overwhelmed, we can then fall back to the exit, regroup, and take the swarm together. Don’t start with our backs against the wall.”
“Smart,” Reggie said. “Joel can still provide overwatch support.”
Joel shivered and cast Reggie a longing look. “I love it when you use tactical lingo.”
The team split up and headed to their designated locations. Reggie, Sam and Cody all stood at intersections of the same path, so they could look to the side and see each other.
Cody directed Joel to the access ladder for the rollercoaster, an old, wooden ride called Rolling Thunder. Joel slung the sniper rifle over his shoulder and climbed up over seventy feet. The tracks were wide enough that he could walk comfortably, but the lack of railings and the faster winds at that height had him walking slowly and steadily.
He leaned forward and bear-crawled up the slope in the track. The incline was enough that he would have toppled over backward had he tried to walk it. Once he reached the top, he drew his sniper rifle, pressed the button on the stock to extend the barrel, and laid on his belly.
“I’m set,” he said.
“Roger,” Reggie said.
Joel made an exaggerated moan of pleasure. “Love that tactical talk.”
“Gross,” Cody said. “Bringing up power in the front of the park. I’ll bring the rest up in thirty-second increments. Should see some nasties in a couple of minutes.”
The view from the top of Rolling Thunder was astonishing. Joel had to consciously tell himself to focus, or his attention would falter and he’d gawk at the park. The things I could do with my own amusement park… He followed the lights, scanning the area for signs of ShimVens, but he began to daydream.
Exterminator wasn’t exactly his dream job. Pro gamer was at the top of that list, but amusement park owner was right up there, too. The noise, the flair, the lights, the fun. How could anyone not love it here?
“I’m getting bored,” Sam said.
Movement caught Joel’s eye. “ShimVens coming your way.” He squeezed the trigger and watched one of them explode.
The swarm came at them like a herd of buffalo being run off a cliff, frantic and wild. Reggie squeezed the trigger and didn’t let go, dropping dozens of them. Cody turned a handful at a time into paste with his scatterblaster. Sam became a windmill of death, twirling her sword and slicing the bugs to ribbons. Joel continued to pick them off one at a time until they stopped coming.
Finally, the swarm was dead.
“All clear,” Joel said, his voice high with the sound of surprise. “For the first time ever, we didn’t need to use the backup plan. We really are pros.”
Reggie shrugged. “So, what do we do now? Just clock out and get paid? No apocalyptic surprises?”
“We could,” Joel said. “Or I can cross something off my bucket list.”
Sam was already on her way to the gift shop.
“Guess that answers that,” Reggie said. “Let’s go wild.”
Chapter Five
Eden. That was the only way to properly describe it. Paradise. Joel had stumbled upon heaven on Earth. He spotted it from atop the roller coaster.
“Guys.” His voice was tight and barely contained, like a bomb that was about to go off. “I think I’ve found something wonderful.”
He climbed down from Rolling Thunder and burst into a sprint. He wound his way through the rides, taking corners at breakneck speeds until he saw it.
He skidded to a halt at a pavilion that rang with the bells and beeps and boops of yesteryear, a vintage gaming haven. The Joyous Joystick Arcade. It was packed with classic cabinet games, the kind only found in museums or in the possession of hardcore collectors: Rampage, Donkey Kong, Galaga, Mario Bros.
Even…
Joel’s heart leapt into his throat. His all-time favorite, most lusted after game. The one he pirated when he was seven. He’d searched an entire summer for a sim of it online. When he finally found one, he’d had to trade an entire cache of pirated movie files for it. But he’d gotten it.
Double Dragon.
The beat ‘em up that gave rise to the entire beat ‘em up genre.
“Guys, I need your assistance on the double.” Joel chuckled at the unintentional pun.
The guys responded with understandable concern. Joel only stoked their sense of urgency, demanding that they hurry. Sam mumbled about Twix and Charleston Chew and said something that sounded like “Fuck off”.
Joel paced, but never took his eyes off the glorious game. If he only came out of this job with this one prize, all of the shit he’d endured would be worth it.
A flash of movement caught his attention. He turned, expecting to see Reggie and Cody, but found something much smaller and hairier. A creature that looked somewhat like a honey badger sauntered out from behind one of the games. It was the size of a skunk and seemed curious, like it hadn’t been expecting to find a man standing there, pining after an old video game, but
wanted to know what the big deal was. It moved closer to Joel, slowly at first. The closer it got to him, the faster it moved, like it had made up its mind on the situation. And the situation was dinner.
It bared its teeth, razor sharp and hard like diamonds. It let out a rumbling growl that rose in pitch to a vicious hiss. It lunged, and Joel moved on instinct. He leapt back, drawing his pistols as he fell. He managed to get off a shot, grazing the creature along its left flank. As Joel slammed onto his back, the creature skittered out of sight.
Reggie and Cody arrived, their sense of urgency now totally appropriate.
“What is it?” Reggie asked, his submachine gun held tight to his chest. “What’s wrong?”
Joel’s face had gone white as a sheet. He fumbled with his words as he tried to put them together into a coherent sentence. “A goddamn skunky son of a bitch came at my face. Almost died for fuck’s sake. Fucking Double Dragon.” He failed.
Cody pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What now?”
Joel pushed himself into a sitting position. He still had his blasters drawn and ready, expecting the creature to reappear any second. After several failed attempts at speech, he caught his breath and told the guys what happened.
“That doesn’t sound like a ShimVen,” Reggie said.
“No shit,” Joel said. “If it was a ShimVen, I would have said it was a ShimVen.”
Cody was crouched a few feet away. “Blood. The trail leads that way.” He pointed toward the center of the pavilion.
“Then I suggest we go that way,” Joel said, pointing in the opposite direction.
“We should figure out what it is,” Cody said. “We weren’t hired to kill ShimVens, we were hired to get rid of an infestation. This new creature could be just one member of a colony. If we leave a colony behind, we won’t get paid, and all our time and resources will have been a waste. And we don’t have enough money to fuel the ship and get off this planet.”
Joel sighed. “Why must my dreams always become nightmares?”
They followed the trail, Reggie taking point and the others watching the flanks. They were finding only small drops of blood, so they knew the thing wasn’t hurt too bad. Which meant it was probably still in killing shape.
The trail went cold by Space Invaders. The guys struggled to focus on the task at hand and not the games.
“It will be a truly cruel twist of fate if we die in a vintage arcade,” Joel said.
The snarl from beneath the game added an ominous undertone to his comment. The guys nodded to each other. Reggie kicked the Space Invaders cabinet.
Even injured, the creature moved like lightning. It was barely a blur of fur as it scurried out and charged at Cody. Cody’s curiosity at seeing the creature Joel had described was instantly overwhelmed by his desire to not get mauled. He squeezed off two rounds from his scatterblaster, pocking the concrete floor with holes, but putting none in the animal.
It weaved through the shots like Pac-Man would through a maze while evading ghosts. It lunged at Cody, mouth wide, ready to swallow him whole, like he was the cherry.
Reggie appeared out of nowhere, slamming the butt of his gun into the side of the beast. With a sickening crack, the animal slammed into a Rampage game and slid to the floor. It still only took a moment before it got back to its feet and locked Reggie in its sights. It snarled—a different kind of sound than before, not just wild and untamed. This one had intention behind it.
These creatures were vengeful little bastards.
Before it could act on its spiteful intentions, Reggie opened fire, obliterating Rampage. The cabinet game splintered and sparked and died. Reggie didn’t have time to mourn, as the beast dodged to the right. Without letting off the trigger, Reggie followed its movement. He left a trail of holes in the floor.
Joel sucked in a breath as his eyes jumped ahead in Reggie’s projected trajectory. Split seconds passed, and Joel saw the terror that would come. The absolute tragedy.
He shouted, “No!” and grabbed Reggie’s arm.
Reggie let off the trigger, and the creature disappeared under a different game cabinet.
“What the heck?” he demanded. “Why’d you stop me? I almost had it.”
Joel pointed to the game cabinet currently serving as the creature’s safe haven.
Reggie shrugged. “Yeah? What?”
He may as well have spit in church.
“Are you shitting me?” Joel gestured to the game again, as if it might elicit a different response. “Double Dragon! The king of beat ‘em up games. The reason I love gaming so much. You guys know how much I love this game. I even own the movie! That terrible, terrible movie.”
“You love it so much that you’re willing to risk our lives to protect it?” Cody asked.
“Yes,” Joel answered without hesitation. “Yes, I very much do.”
A boom of force and noise rushed through the park, followed by the smell of smoke and a chemical stink. Something had exploded somewhere. The guys looked at each other, all thinking the same thing: Sam.
Reggie was about to speak, though totally unsure of what he was going to say, when the furry creature reappeared and alleviated him of the burden. It caught them unprepared, focused more on the game than on what was living underneath it.
The small beast rushed at Reggie and clawed his ankle. The pain was so quick and fierce that it dropped him to one knee. He screamed out as he tried to swing his submachine gun around and catch the beast in his sights.
It was too fast. It was already halfway up Cody’s back. Cody’s vision went red when the thing sunk its teeth into his shoulder.
Joel screamed into his comm. “Sam! Where the hell are you? We are in desperate need of a ninja!”
No answer. She’s probably too busy stuffing her face.
Cody kicked his feet out and fell flat on his back, hoping to crush the animal beneath him. It scurried around to Cody’s front before that could happen. Then it leapt off him and soared through the air toward Joel.
Joel tried to raise his blasters, but the thing was too fast. It bared its fangs, prepared to sink them into Joel’s face.
He shut his eyes. He’d never get to play Double Dragon. Never watch with elation as his initials blinked in the top score spot.
He felt a hot splash across his face. He opened his eyes to see Sam, sword in hand, standing over the headless creature. Her clothes were torn. She was covered in cuts and bruises. She looked like she had been dragged behind a pickup truck.
“We have a problem,” she said.
Chapter Six
Ten minutes earlier…
Snickers. Twix. Twizzlers. Colorful foods in colorful wrappers. Most kids had a deep knowledge of such things. Years of Halloweens spent collecting and cataloguing and devouring them. Trips to the candy store to purchase them. A fat man in a red suit apparently shoved them in socks that hung by the fireplace.
But Sam had no experience with candy. When she was a child, she ate to survive, whatever she could get her hands on—which was mostly half-eaten food fished out of a dumpster. She understood now why she had never found any half-eaten candy.
As she’d grown and followed the path of the mercenary, she’d eaten so that her body would work at peak efficiency. This meant mostly nutritious shakes, taking in all of the essentials in one sludgy cup of beige liquid.
So as an adult, that first bite of sour gummy worm was a revelation, a truly eye-opening experience, a life-altering bite. Every successive bite of gummy or nougat or chocolate was equally as profound.
The shelves of the gift shop were mostly stocked. The place looked like it could have opened right now if they wanted to. She had her choice of candy, and then she had her fill. She’d just stuck something called a Charleston Chew in her face when Joel’s voice came through the comm.
“Guys, I need your assistance on the double.”
“Fuck off,” Sam said through her teeth, which were stuck together with chocolate. She sat on the stool be
hind the register, normally reserved for the employee. This was her store now.
She was on the verge of a candy coma, her blood sugar spiking and stomach rumbling, her mind clouded with artificial flavors and colors, when she heard a familiar scratching sound.
She brushed it off as nothing and leaned back on her stool, closing her eyes and drifting away.
She didn’t get far. The scratching returned, more present and forceful than before. Her instincts wrestled with her muddled senses, the battle-hardened disposition of the mercenary winning out over the lethargy of the newly-minted candy lover. She walked around the front of the counter, following the sound toward the back of the store.
A door stood between her and the sound. She pressed her ear to it and heard the muffled sound of skittering on the other side. Doubt nagged at her, though the tingling on her tongue tried to urge her back to the counter for another fistful of gummy bears.
She opened the door. It was dark, illuminated only partially by the light from behind Sam. Shadows crawled into the closet like specters. She reached inside, her hand getting swallowed by the dark, and felt for the light switch. She flicked it on.
Half a dozen ShimVens screeched their displeasure at the sudden burst of light. They ran around inside the small maintenance closet like blind chickens, crashing into each other and the wall.
Sam froze in surprise, expecting all of the ShimVens in the park to have just been slaughtered. By the time she recovered from her shock and drew her sword, the opportunity for a quick and easy kill had passed. The bugs had regained their bearings and were focusing their attention on Sam. They rushed her in a coordinated yet frantic attack.
It seemed an odd thing to think, but the bugs appeared wilder than normal. Not to insinuate that they were ever tame, but they typically moved with a focused intention—to kill their prey. These bugs didn’t seem to be attacking Sam so much as trying to get past her. She wasn’t their prey, she was a roadblock.
