by Arthur Stone
These were rank-and-file Spiders, trying to earn some spores. The smartest plan they could devise was blocking off a road. It was dirty, of course, but standard practice here. But if the group paid up immediately without any negotiations, the band would likely suspect that the Janitor and his team were up to something. Those in haste are either very rich, which may provoke a new level of extortion, or they have something to hide, so they are trying to hurry things up. This strategy was better. Politely insisting on a lower fee.
Normal behavior for honest players with nothing to fear.
The quasi began waving around with his paw, the one not holding a weapon, as he explained that the loot from a whole herd of infecteds was too much to ask of people driving along a public road available to all. The conversation stretched on for about five minutes, so it seemed that the man in the vehicle could not be moved.
Then, the chat blinked. They agree to accept forty.
Does that work?
Yes, we can handle that, March replied.
Janitor placed the promised price in his palm and stretched it out to the Spider. He began to turn—and froze. March realized immediately that they would not be able to drive past.
Something was about to happen.
The chat blinked again.
He says that if we want to pass he has to record all of our names in this big black notebook he has.
Say we’ll register in the stable. Why should we have to do it twice?
I already said that. But the man said it was procedure. I think my hesitancy has him on edge. He’s saying we all have to leave right now.
So then we are at odds, March concluded. Everyone! Take them out. Quickly!
Cheater, of course, had suspected this encounter would devolve into conflict all along, but the sudden turn still took him by surprise. How could he help take them out? Right out in the open like this? And how? He had a bow and a small bunch of arrows. The gun loopholes were not designed for archers.
So he didn’t budge—just waited. Perhaps he wasn’t even needed.
The quasi’s arm shot inside the cab of the vehicle like a striking cobra, seizing the helmeted man by the neck and yanking him out of the cab like the man was a two-week-old puppy. With a wave of his arm, he slammed the human into the pavement so hard that Cheater wondered how it did not crack.
The Janitor paid him no more mind as he bounded two steps further, raised his machine gun, and opened fire as he moved the gun in a horizontal sweep. The half-inch-caliber bullets speckled the garbage truck’s entire length at about a man’s standing kidney height. No man living in three dimensions could possibly escape unhit. At such distances, thin sheets of steel were no match for a weapon like the quasi’s.
In fact, they were no help at all.
The truck grew suddenly brighter as Tat kicked open the rear doors and leaped out. Cheater followed and skirted around the vehicle, arrow at the ready. His plan was obvious: no bow could pierce the garbage truck, nor the pickup’s armor, but it could kill the machine gunner.
He was too late.
The gun roared to live and fired a dozen rounds. At that distance, there was no missing, unless the gunner was both blind and deaf. Suddenly the pickup shuddered and was engulfed in smoke, parts flying in all directions, and the machine gunner disappeared at a speed approaching teleportation.
Claw was rushing the wreck now, shooting from his automatic as he went, which struck Cheater as an idiotic move. Nothing was left after the hit from the cannon.
A close explosion made him crouch down, instinctively. The quasi had already burned a full ammo belt on the garbage truck, but the group’s truck-mounted machine gun continued his assault. Of course, when you shoot a vehicle packed with ammo and weapons, anything can happen. One of the bullets hit something dangerous, and heavy sheets of steel were blown clear of the Janitor—missing him only by some miracle.
Roach was crouched nearby and was for some reason shooting at the burning carcass of the huge garbage truck. “Suck this, you bastards!”
“The hill! On that slope over there!” Hamster screamed from behind them, in desperation.
He was a sensor, and so could see things none of them could.
Cheater caught the suspicious motion out of the corner of his eye. It was movement by some figure lying on the side of the hill—the jerky movement of recoil as the hillman’s own machine gun opened fire. The man was so well camouflaged that none of them could have seen him until he began shooting.
Bullets pounded everywhere around, chipping the pavement and ringing against the truck. Cheater didn’t even have time to realize how useless running away would be. Realizations were a luxury he did not have time for.
Bow up, he released his arrow.
The machine gun fell silent, and the figure once again melted into invisibility as his nest grew shrouded by a cloud of earth and pebbles thrown into the air by gunfire from the party. Several of Cheater’s squadmates were firing.
Wasting ammo, as it turned out, since Cheater had not missed.
Personal victory: immune Gascap destroyed. Level 33, Humanity: low negative. Party victory! Eight immunes of various levels destroyed. For details on the stats of the destroyed infecteds, please see your personal log. Note: Not all opponents were aggressive. Not all such adversaries have a negative Humanity. As such, the party receives a penalty to experience earned for this victory. Players of the squad who directly destroyed non-aggressive targets will take a Humanity penalty. During battle, you displayed impressive speed, accuracy, agility, and reaction time. +34 progress points to Agility. +27 progress points to Speed. +263 progress points to Accuracy. +8 progress points to Reaction. +14 Humanity points.
The System considered the battle done. That meant they could relax—for now.
Cheater glanced at Roach. Blood flowed from the man’s pierced skull. There was no point to checking his pulse; besides, his icon had gone black.
Note: This stressful situation has activated a new ability. Contact a healer, or determine your ability yourself. You receive 10 distributable base stat progress points as a reward.
This ability cannot be lost when your level drops upon death. It will always be yours.
Working ability name: Tranquility. This ability is activated when you clearly think or speak the phrase “Tranquility.” Whether you think or speak the phrase, you must do so firmly in order for the ability to be activated. You can always change the working name of your ability. This will also change the activation phrase.
Note: Your command will not work if your skill is not included in your list of active abilities! You can view your active abilities in the Abilities tab.
Ability description: for 6 seconds, all movement stops at the point of your choice. The point you choose is the center of a sphere one-half meter in diameter. Within this sphere, all movement ceases. Note: Tranquility does not affect the Brownian motion of molecules. Ability cooldown: 24 hours. Ability range: 15 meters. Note: These are the base stats of this ability. Real usage may vary.
Cost: 50 mana. Every 10 levels of Willpower adds 4 units of Mana Cost, increases the radius of the sphere by 5 centimeters, increases the duration by 0.5 seconds, increases the range by 3 meters, and reduces the cooldown by 15 minutes.
You have grown stronger. Keep it up!
Congratulations! This is your second ability.
What? A new ability? Fantastic! But he would deal with it later.
Fatso bent over Roach’s body and tried to shout over the rumbling ammunition explosions still going on in the truck.
“Man down! Man down!” He yelled in earnest, as if everyone had to come help.
But the man hadn’t just hurt his leg or something—his brains were literally blasted across the pavement. Haste did nothing to help such victims.
Button was out of the truck already, slowing her run as she arrived.
“Calm down, I’m here.”
Cheater was about to ask why her presence should calm anyone, but she stretche
d her arms out over his body, opened her palms, closed her eyes tightly, and trembled slightly as she bit her lip.
Suddenly, she relaxed and stepped back, exhausted. Ammunition still popped and banged in the nearby garbage truck, but otherwise, there was silence. She nodded. “Done.”
Done? Roach’s body began emitting a thick smoke, which soon covered it completely for a few seconds.
Then, a coarse curse emerged from the cloud, and the dead man stood up, trying to brush his own entrails from his clothes.
“Motherfucker, what the hell? I burned a life all the way out here? I knew this was a mistake. I never should have hooked up with this crowd!”
Roach pushed past the dumbfounded Cheater and disappeared behind the truck.
Cheater stared at the place of the man’s temporary demise. Not a single drop of blood. The only remaining hint of what had happened were the small whitish holes left by the bullets that had struck the pavement.
Tat approached as if nothing had happened. “See? I told you you were being stupid.”
Cheater nodded. “Yeah. So Button is the most valuable fighter we have. Even if she never shoots a single bullet.”
The girl nodded. “She’s a priestess. That’s a rare gift. Trying a border crossing without a priest is tantamount to willful suicide. The party will die, one by one, until no one is left. Especially one as weak as ours.”
“What does that look like from the other side?”
“You’re dying, as usual. But then a message appears in the darkness: ‘The player Button is inviting you to respawn directly onto the field of battle.’ You have the option to accept, or to decline. If you choose the latter, you respawn in a newly rebooted cluster. Just like a normal death.”
“How long do you have?”
“Until your body is destroyed. Although, if the blackness has taken you, you’ll auto-decline. Strange questions to ask, Cheater.”
“What?” Cheater blinked.
“At a time like this. We have other things to worry about.”
“So what should I be thinking about?”
“About how we’ve barely started and already bumped into trouble. If any of these players managed to get a chat message off, all of the Spiders in the area are coming after us right now. But even if they didn’t... Then they will as soon as they respawn.”
“But this place is surrounded by black clusters. Chat doesn’t go through those,” he protested.
“Sure, but the Spiders hold an important stable down the road. There’s got to be some kind of communication link set up. Regardless, if they don’t know about us already, they’ll be hearing the news soon.”
Chapter 6
Life Seven. A Roundabout
“What is there to discuss?” Roach huffed. “We barely pull out of the driveway and already I’m down one life. How far did we get? Two miles? Maybe three? And this is just the start! Soon they’ll swarm us like flies. The longer we stall, the worse it’ll be. Let’s turn around and get out of here before they block off the road! Then we scatter. Split up.”
“You know, if you talked less, people might actually think you’re smart,” Fatso muttered. “March says we keep going, and March is in charge. If you disagree, you can leave on your own.”
“And where will I go? Across the black? You ever been in the dark clusters, smart ass? But here we are, stuck between them along one line and between packs of spiders along the other. We’re in deep! I knew I should have stuck to my gut and never joined such a sucky party...”
Cheater only gave the conversation half an ear. The rest of his attention was focused on his loot: a light machine gun. It was a simple weapon. No magic tricks. Most likely a reboot of a cluster with a military base had brought it in. It wouldn’t handle any mods, sadly. However, its former owner had taken good care of it. It came with four belts of ammo, and only one of them was partly used.
At least Cheater didn’t look like a beggar now, as he had before, when all he carried was his bow.
Everything else had been destroyed along with the vehicles. Some of the ammunition was still popping as the fire in the garbage truck burned down. So much had been lost that they could have seized. Thankfully, the Spiders’ commander had set up that hidden firing point on the hillside. And Cheater had managed to down the gunner with a single shot. None of the rest had even complained, giving their tacit consent for the skilled archer to take all of the man’s loot.
Not that this machine gun was very good loot. Even the most generous merchant would likely pay no more than fifty spores for it. The pistol, on the other hand, could fetch a couple of hundred, if not half a thousand. Or even more. Paradoxes were commonplace in the Continent. It wasn’t plated in gold or inlaid with gems, but it had other qualities. It was a simple bot weapon. That class of weapon was guaranteed to take one mod and had a 50% chance of taking a second. A failure on the second mod, though, carried the risk of destroying the first mod or even permanently ruining the item. It was all up to luck.
Luck had favored the owner of this pistol. Favored them enough, anyway. Both modifiers had taken, and they had useful properties, not any of the garbage the System loved to dish out at times. One gave the muzzle velocity of the gun an extra 86 meters per second. The other reduced the weapon’s weight by 25%. The second property was so-so, but the first was excellent. Muzzle velocity reduced the gun’s dispersion and increased its penetration. Both were very important when fighting developed infecteds or armored human opponents.
The weapon’s recoil remained the same, as did its balance. It behaved reliably, despite its real-world design being ill-suited to such modifications. Here on the Continent, the laws of physics did not apply, or at least suffered from constant contradiction.
Modifiers were special items that could be picked up in gray clusters, or in some alien blackness Cheater had only heard rumors of. The search for such valuable items was fraught with numerous dangers, so even the weakest of them went for seven hundred spores, and that was at the best prices. Two would set you back nearly fifteen hundred. You might think then that the pistol would cost at least that much. But luck interfered. Adding mods to weapons was always a roll of the dice. It could fail, or work meagerly, or work wonderfully.
With Cheater’s new pistol, the result had been good, but hardly spectacular. That was why the former owner had declined to make the item a bound weapon. Binding was expensive, after all, and not worth it with such an item. Plus, he was no loner out here, but a member of a party. If he ended up dead, his partymates would make sure his items were not lost.
And so, he had made out pretty well. He shared none of Roach’s displeasure, and try to drown it out as it droned on. Still, there were some useful tidbits to be gained.
Roach was not the most amiable person, but he was right. This was not an auspicious start. The Spiders knew that a pack of their enemies was squished between black clusters. Trapped. Or they would know soon, at least. Nowhere to run, neither to the right, nor to the left. Ahead lay a stable cluster that would welcome Cheater and the others with open armories. Behind, a large region filled with massive manpower. They had an entire region under their total control, with their webs extending into the neighboring regions, too. Colossal power.
The party had to escape, and fast. Roach was right. But they couldn’t leave immediately. Hanging around near burning, crackling, exploding cars was a perilous activity, and it had taken its toll. Something massive had flown out of the flames and slammed into one of the truck’s front tires, ripping it to shreds. Replacing a tire on a heavy vehicle was not as simple as replacing it on a car. Clown, Physic, and Georgy were occupied with that very task, and the others could not contribute without getting in the way. They could only wait.
Cheater could feel the storm gathering. Squads of soldiers were hastily assembling into strike team motorcades up ahead of them, or behind them, or both. Just one of them would be able to lay the party out flat.
But the tire was already flat, so they had to wai
t.
* * *
The truck slowed down, but not enough. It shuddered hard as it veered to the right and hit unanticipated potholes. Cheater was nearly thrown onto Tat’s lap. Regaining his balance, he looked out one of the loopholes.
They had ridden off of the smooth highway onto an old dirt road running near a corn field.
It was one of the paths meant for slow-moving farm vehicles, and only during certain seasons. For a truck, it was bad news. The highway, of course, probably ran right to the stable. Right to suicide. Still, Cheater felt like it was too soon to veer off the road. Less than twenty minutes had passed since the cursed tire had finally been replaced, and Cheater had heard they still had forty miles to go. They had not had time for half that.
He turned to Tat. “Isn’t it a little early to get off the highway?”
She just shrugged at him. “I don’t know. Nothing in the chat. But I suppose it’s best to turn off early.”
“Huh?”
“Someone might be on our way to meet us. It wouldn’t take much to kill us all. A couple of trucks waiting in the bushes, pounding us with cannons as we ride by. I don’t know how good our sensor is, but they usually can’t detect things early enough when traveling at speed.”
“How can we turn off the road when we’re trapped by black clusters left and right?”
“This isn’t the black. Look, the corn is even ripe.”
“Right. I’m saying we can’t be off the highway for long.”
“We’ll see.”
* * *
Cheater leaped happily out of the truck and stretched his legs. The road had seemed longer than it was, with the endless vibrations.
Then, he circled the truck and joined the others. Everyone stood in a curved line in front of the cannon, staring forward in silence. Fifty yards ahead, the road sloped upward, and then everything changed.
