Power Fantasy

by Scottie Futch

  That wasn’t going to be something he could handle. He tried to get them to separate by running them into various areas to break them up, but it didn’t work well. They always gathered back together.

  Suddenly, he turned a corner around the building and came face to face with a dozen more of the monsters. The mission window reappeared, announcing that he had taken too long and made too much noise. More zombies had appeared.

  “Shit!” he exclaimed. He did his best to fight through the new horde but did not come out unscathed.

  Battered and bruised, though thankfully unbitten, he managed to take down a few more of them. Unfortunately, now there were more than there had been at the store originally!

  Taking them down a few at a time was a sound plan, but it would take too long if he was doing it alone. He could not ask for help, so he had to get creative.

  The gas station did not afford many opportunities. He couldn’t get inside to find anything useful, and there were no more cars in the area. Scott continued to try and cull the horde, but as the minutes passed more and more zombies trickled into the area.

  It was inevitable that he lost his footing and fell. A searing pain raced up from his ankle, as he tried to stand up. He was stalled just long enough to see the others rush from the bus to try to help him despite his earlier request. They did not make it in time. Desperate flailing did not hold back the horde, and he was torn apart.

  Sometime later he awoke with a gasp. Strangely, he was not back on the bus. Instead, he found himself standing in a column of light, but all around him was impenetrable darkness.

  Two message windows appeared before him. One showed his auto-save back after the escape, as Shit-do loomed in the background. The other showed him an image of him sitting on the bus a few minutes ago.

  “The hell?” he asked softly. There was no sense of danger in this place. There was no sense of much emotion at all, for that matter.

  It did not take him long to realize what this probably meant. He had died. This was how he would choose his save and load options. He touched the screen with the scene on the bus from a few minutes ago.

  He awoke with a gasp. Now that he was back on the bus, the sense of calm that he felt during his loading scene decision was gone. Tears welled up in his eyes, to the shock of the onlooking survivors.

  Scott rubbed at his eyes then shuddered in an attempt to regain his composure. It was difficult. The memory of those bloodstained teeth tearing into his flesh was quite visceral.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Otakun. “Weren’t you going on your mission?”

  Scott nodded to him. “Already did once…. It didn’t work out so well for me. Need to try a different tactic.”

  “Didn’t work out so well?” asked Momoko. “What do you mean?”

  “I just got torn apart, alright…” said Scott with a bit of heat in his tone. “Was doing well, but the plan I had was taking too long. Trying to pick them off on the outskirts then running them around didn’t work.”

  “After a good five minutes, a dozen more showed up. Every few minutes more would trickle in…” said Scott. “I have to take them out faster.”

  “Do you have to do it at all?” asked Momoko. “Resources are great, but do you even know if it’s worth it?”

  Scott shook his head. “If it was just for points I wouldn’t bother.”

  He rose from his seat and sighed. “At least I can try again.”

  “Are you crazy?” asked Momoko.

  “Yeah. I have to be,” agreed Scott. “I don’t have the luxury of staying dead. If I don’t want to get stuck in an infinite death loop later, I need to be as strong as possible.”

  Those words said, he tried to make a new quick save. Thankfully since he hadn’t started the mission yet, he was allowed to make a new quick save. He left the bus and rushed toward the chatty zombies. They had gotten much close to the bus this time, due to the extended conversation.

  Round two of Scott versus the zombie horde started much the same as round one. He killed off the three closest zombies while the others backed away on the bus. Afterward, instead of trying to pick off stragglers he wandered the area searching for anything of use. The zombies naturally began to gather into a larger group, but no matter what happened he needed to scout the area. His seemingly eternal nature afforded him opportunities for information gathering that would be impossible for an ordinary man. He felt the need to make use of this most epic of cheat powers. It was not like he had any other sort of plot armor that a normal protagonist might possess.

  “A ladder leading to the roof, but it has a locked grate over the lower rungs…” mumbled Scott while zombies shambled toward him nearby.

  He trotted around the building, narrowly managing to avoid the reaching hands of a few lingering zombies. There was nothing of particular use, at least not against this many zombies. It wasn’t until he bumped against one of the gas pumps in a bid to juke a lustful office worker zombie that something interesting happened. A message window appeared!

  Resource Collection Point Located

  You have discovered a resource collection location. If you spend the [500] world points necessary, you will be able to activate this collection point.

  Notable Resources at this Location: Fuel

  Scott couldn’t do it now, because he barely had the time to juke another set of zombies. However, fuel could turn the tide of this battle if he could manage to do something good with it.

  He rushed around the side of the building then investigated the open dumpster he had scarcely checked before. Inside, he noted several glass bottles and some rags among the otherwise useless trash. “Yeah… Hell yeah.”

  Scott lead the zombies off down the road a short distance, the horde growing larger little by little, but then ran back to the gas station. His energy points depleted from before, he was exhausted doing only that much. Still, he had secured enough time to at least attempt to make use of the fuel point.

  Once prompted, he paid the world points necessary. A light blue column of light appeared around the fuel pumps and a new message window appeared.

  Fuel Collection Point Unlocked

  You have unlocked a resource node. This resource node will provide resources for you which must be purchased with item points. Resource allotment measurements will be in your native measurement system.

  Resources Available

  [1] Gallon of Fuel

  Cost: 10 item points

  Production Time: 30 seconds

  [5] Gallons of Fuel

  Cost: 40 item points

  Production Time: 140 seconds

  “Shit! It’ll take time to produce…” Scott looked at the approaching zombies. He had led them away a good distance, but it would take less than a minute for them to return.

  “Have to buy time while the gas is produced,” he mumbled.

  Scott splurged forty points for five gallons of gas. A gas jug faded into existence with a timer displayed in the air overhead.

  He rushed off to redirect the horde as best he could. Unfortunately, there were no nearby drop offs or anything else that he could use to do heavy damage to them before he could try chucking a few Molotovs. Doing that near a gas station was reckless at best, but what else could he do? Well, other than give up and just leave with the others.

  Scott ran the zombies in circles, but their numbers continued to grow. There were not a massive number of them in the area to begin with, but there could be as many as eighty of them now.

  Once about two minutes, by his estimation, passed he trotted slowly back to the fuel point. His stamina was not exactly that of a high-end athlete to begin with and his lack of energy on top of it were taking their toll.

  Hands shaking, he picked up the fuel jug and sighed. “Damn this thing is heavy.”

  A new message window appeared to him a moment later. This time it provided information about the fuel jug.

  Instant Resource Carrier Creation

  If you choose to acquire fuel without t
he use of a normal canister, an instant resource carrier will be generated. This item cannot be refilled, and it will disperse once the remaining fuel is utilized.

  If you choose to acquire fuel via a normal canister, you may refill that canister at any time. Item points will be charged based on the amount of fuel required to top off the canister.

  He dragged the fuel over to the dumpster and fished out all the bottles and rags that he could find. The zombies were still a good distance away, but they would not take long to arrive.

  He was able to make three Molotovs before he was forced to stop and try to get into the convenience store. There was bound to be a lighter inside.

  Scott glanced over to the oncoming zombie horde then shuddered. Cool Under Pressure certainly helped, but that sort of thing would make anyone shiver. He tried to push open the door but found that it refused to open. On the verge of breaking the door down, he suddenly realized that he had not tried something. He pulled on the door handle and the door opened quite easily.

  “Fucking zombies had me thinking this was locked!” While some of them could talk to a limited degree, this group was filled with idiots. They had tried to force their way inside, but none of them had realized that they could just pull the door open. The handle was designed in such a way that it would be difficult to accidentally pull it open as well, so that made it extra difficult for them.

  “Hey! Anyone in here? This is your chance to run for it!” cried out Scott as he walked inside. No one answered him immediately, not even so much as a moan. With a shrug, he turned toward the nearby merchandise. He didn’t have time to search for survivors who weren’t willing to speak up at the moment. He had to deal with the horde.

  “Mother fucking dead, fucking fuck!!” shrieked a high-pitched voice off to the right. A guy wearing a bandana sprung out from behind a bunch of drink boxes and lunged at Scott.

  Exhausted from running around, Scott was sluggish in trying to defend himself. He managed to partially block the knife, but it plunged deeply into the meat of his arm. This time it was Scott’s turn to scream.

  The pain shocked him, even with his special trait. The knife was ripped from his arm causing another searing pain. He tried to fend off his attacker, but the bandana clad weirdo attacked him like a man possessed. As Scott lay dying in a pool of his own blood, he barely had time to register the fact that the man’s skin had a greyish tinge and he had been sweating profusely. He was turning. There were no survivors in this place. Just one desperate man slowly losing his mind.

  The dark world pierced solely by a single column of light appeared once more. Scott looked around, while he allowed his nerves to be calmed in the serene atmosphere. He still shuddered whenever the memory of the knife re-emerged, so he opted to stay in this place a while.

  Beyond space. Beyond time. This was an endless existence. It was a place of finite choices but infinite nature. At least, those were the thoughts that whispered inside his mind.

  “Man,” whispered Scott in a nearly emotionless manner. “This is what it’s like for normal people, huh?”

  It wasn’t the respawns that he referred to in that moment, but the ease in which one might die in that world. Without his ability to respawn he would have lasted a good ten minutes according to that first day. It was no wonder that the flying spaghetti monster, or whoever was really behind all of this, had given him infinite respawns. A normal guy had no plot armor. He could, and obviously would, die at any time. The closest thing to plot armor that he had in his possession was his save points.

  Admittedly, that was a powerful bit of armor! It also led to situations where he could be driven insane due to constant deaths. His acquired trait was obviously helping him to deal with things, but it was not perfect.

  “Remember,” he whispered. “No matter how strong I get. I need to remember how hard it is for normal people to survive. It’s no wonder they would do anything they need to do to live.”

  Back in his old life, death was considered inevitable but also some far-off date. Here, it could literally happen at any moment. While that was true in his original world as well, it never felt that way. Death was an incredible surprise that seemed to come out of nowhere. Here, it was a persistent and frequent event.

  The knife-wielding man in the gas station was deranged. He was turning, but he wanted to live. It made sense that he would attack aggressively. Scott still hated his fucking guts, but he could understand the guy.

  Instead of jumping back to the bus, he took a moment to think about what he had learned. The last round wasn’t useless. It told him how he could solve the problems evident in this mission. He could not beat the zombies fast enough with his brush axe, but Molotovs would make it much easier.

  The worst-case scenario would be that the station might blow up, but if he led the zombies away before he started chucking his explosives, they wouldn’t cause as many problems.

  Scott frowned, however. He had to wonder if the fuel would be enough. How flammable was it? It didn’t cite whether it was gasoline or not.

  He wracked his brain for a moment. How did he ensure that the Molotovs would be strong enough?

  Several minutes passed while he wracked his brain for any tidbit of information that he could remember about how Molotovs worked. He would not have a lot of them to work with, no matter what he did.

  If they were not going to be numerous, how about more powerful? “I think… leaving room at the top for the fumes to build makes it more explosive… I think.”

  “What else?” he was operating on secondhand Internet gossip, but if it was right then he had all the stuff he needed back on the bus.

  “Hey, yeah! That’s… Yeah,” said Scott. Thinking about it dredged up a vague memory from when he had gotten a little drunk one day and looked up how to make such things because of a game he was playing. “Two-thirds gas. One-third motor oil to make it burn hotter and longer… Only fill the bottle halfway so it's more explosive. That has to be it!”

  Thinking about it, he realized that he had everything he needed on the bus except for the gas and bottles. They had taken a little bit of everything including motor oil and transmission fluid on the chance they would need it for some vehicle or other. There were survival items as well; toilet paper, canned food, campfire lighters.

  He had not thought about the bus before, because he didn’t want to bring attention to it anyway. If he ran out with the items that he needed in a backpack… he could avoid dealing with the dying man in the store and get the party started.

  Scott made a few last-minute plans for how he would rush and juke the zombies then returned to the bus. He immediately updated his quick save then instead of leaving, he rushed to the supplies at the back of the bus.

  “What are you doing?” asked Momoko.

  “Getting what I need here, so I don’t have to deal with the asshole in the gas station,” said Scott simply.

  “What?” asked Momoko.

  “Who?” asked Jade.

  Scott tore open a plastic package and pulled out a pair of campfire lighters. He tested them to see if they worked while he answered their questions. “Yeah, infected survivor in the gas station killed me last time. Bastard came out of nowhere and killed me with a knife.”

  “I thought zombies killed you last time,” asked Momoko suspiciously.

  “That was the time before that,” said Scott in a simple manner. “This is round three.”

  “You’ve already died twice!” exclaimed Momoko. “Are you a glutton for punishment? Why go back?”

  “Found a plan that should work,” said Scott as he rifled through the bags in search of motor oil. He snatched up two of the three bottles and a plastic funnel. “Asshole ganked me before I could make it work.”

  “Why do you need a lighter and motor oil,” asked Jade suspiciously.

  Otakun chimed in immediately. His eyes bright he asked excitedly, “Are you going to make Molotovs?”

  “You damned right I am,” said Scott.

&
nbsp; “Aw, man! Can’t I come?” asked Otakun in a tone similar to a whiny, but happy, kid.

  “Maybe next time,” said Scott with a grin.

  “Right! Molotovs,” said Momoko bitingly. “How are you going to get the gas? The bottles?”

  “It won’t be hard,” said Scott. “I got it all before but couldn’t get a lighter because that guy got me in the gas station.”

  “Those zombies are kind of close,” said Summer nervously.

  “That’s my cue!” exclaimed Scott as he zipped his backpack closed.

  Backpack secured and brush axe in hand, he rushed off to the front of the bus. “Third time’s the charm.”

  “Lemme fuck your father!” growled a zombie in a whiny high-pitched tone as it shambled past the front of the bus. Scott had taken longer than he should have to get his supplies. However, he still had time to beat back and kill these first three zombies.

  He trotted forward then grinned. The bus pulled back, even as he raced toward the zombies. This time things would be different. He could feel the entire scene shifting in his favor now that he knew what to do.

  The next few minutes were a bit of a blur to Scott. He originally intended to get started with the gas right away, but the dead were heavily concentrated around the pumps. Instead, he spent those few minutes rounding up the zombies by making random noises. “Heya! Ho there! Here, stinky stinky…” and so forth.

  The zombies grumbled and complained about being horny the entire time. Some briefly tried to make out, but soon gave up because their hunger won out.

  “Raargh! I want WcDonalds,” moaned a fat zombie. The massive slab of rotting fatty staggered after Scott like he was a mobile happy meal.