by Dan Thomas
Max stopped and turned to the sneering face, “Mamba forgot his tools.” Max gestured to the box. “That turret’s going to malfunction at some point if they’re using it heavily.”
“Why should you take it to him?” Bullet57 asked, strutting forward. “Especially if it looks like you’ve been messing with the rest of the base.”
“Mamba asked me to help him mend the valve,” Max said innocently. “Because he trusts me.” He turned to carry on toward the center building.
“You can’t go inside the command tower,” Bullet57 said as he caught up with Murf and grabbed hold of the tool kit.
“Mamba’s going to need help.” Max wrestled the toolbox out of Bullet57’s grasp, spun around, and continued toward the tower.
“I’ve been here longer than you, I’m trusted here!” Bullet57 grabbed Max by the shoulder and swung him around. Pulling back his arm, he launched his fist at Max.
Max ducked and swung the toolbox at Bullet57, narrowly missing him. But as he stepped backward, he lost his balance and fell onto his back. Bullet57 sprang forward, grabbed hold of the toolbox, and took off at a run, disappearing around the front of the command tower.
Max placed his hands on the ground and pushed himself to his feet, scrambling in the same direction Bullet had gone. He needed to make sure Bullet got that box to the top of the tower.
He came around the front of the command tower, just as the large door swung closed. From the other side, Max could hear muffled shouting.
Max rushed forward and pushed open the large door, revealing the chaos within. He glanced up to see Bullet57 scampering up the stairs and through the hatch on the ceiling, slamming it closed behind him. Max then turned his attention to the scene in front of him.
From what he could see of the large area within, the rest of the core Ravagers were rushing up the ramp away from the vault. Remington paused at the base of the slope behind everyone else to throw a spear. Before he could turn to run up the ramp, four almost dog-sized Coelophysis leaped on him, taking him to the floor.
He yelled out as they bit and clawed his back. Suzaro swung a club, knocking one of the dinos to the floor, the others capered back out of reach, allowing Remington to scramble up the ground on all fours.
Max backed away from the door as the Ravagers rushed up toward him.
“Get back!” Suzaro yelled at him, waving her arms. “We can’t get to the vault! Get to the storehouse and get some fucking weapons.”
“I’m going to skewer each and every one of them and feed them to the raptors. How the hell did they even get in?” Remington said hotly as he ran past Max, who dodged out of the way as two more Ravagers pushed past him, heading for the stables.
Max turned and ran after them. “Is anyone still in there?” he called over.
Remington paused and glanced back at the tower. “Only Raollin, the moron followed us down, but he’s dead. Got brought down and had his throat ripped out.” He curled his lip up in disgust. “And Mamba, but he’s locked himself off at the top.” He turned and carried on to the stables, pointing at Goose and Nik to follow him.
Max turned back toward the command tower. At the top he could see Mamba seated in the gun turret, Bullet57 diligently stood nearby.
Max dropped his gaze, looking past the tower and to the group of noobs filing out of the storehouse, wearing much more armor and sporting weapons from bows and slings to spears and swords, led by Striker and Rednex.
“Where the hell are you, Chopsticks?” Max muttered as he watched the attack force running for the tower. “Come on.” He slipped his hand into this pocket, closing around the trigger.
He could see the mix of eagerness and apprehension in the faces of the fifteen or so noobs as Striker and Rednex quickly organized them into a semicircle around the closed doors of the command tower. Those with ranged weapons stood back, while everyone else held fast closer to the door, weapons poised.
“All right, everyone!” Rednex yelled as he cocked his gun. “They’re shut in there for now, but we can’t let those dinos get up to Mamba on the turret, and we’ve got to get to the vault before whoever’s attacking makes it to the gates.”
“So, get your asses in that tower and kill those bastards now!” Striker yelled, holding his axe high.
A chorus of whoops and yells filled the air.
“Come on, then!” Striker yelled and charged forward, followed by his squad of noobs.
Tense, Max watched on as Striker barged the door open, and as if it were a floodgate, a wave of the Coelophysis surged forward, leaping almost head high as they clawed their way up the bodies in front of them. Others darted between legs as they ran through the bottleneck of the door and into the light. The charging group’s momentum changed as everyone tried to back away before being caught up in the sea of green-bodied dinos, many tripping over each other and the Coelophysis, including Striker who was immediately covered in a swarm of biting lizards.
There was a flurry of arrows and stones launched at the horde. The cacophony of shrieks was lost for a second in the loud crack of a gunshot. Max could see several of the dinos go down, struck with arrows, but it didn’t seem to make a dent as the forty or so dinos spread out.
They ran erratically through the storm of projectiles, most of the lithe dinos were unscathed as they pounced, latching onto armor the Ravagers wore, their narrow jaws snapping at exposed flesh as their victims tried to bat them off.
Striker managed to get to his feet, shaking off the Coelophysis trying to hold him down, hacking at one by his feet with the axe. Recovered from the shock of the aggression, most of the other noobs were also wrestling the dinos off each other, trying to club or spear them.
Max glanced over at the stables, his grip tightening around the trigger in his pocket. Pez was running late, which meant that all eyes were focused on Chopsticks. And if he didn’t do something, his dinos would be beaten back inside, and Max wouldn’t be able to blow the turret, which Mamba was pointing as far down as he could to get an angle on the attackers.
The figure of Chopsticks appeared in the doorway, atlatl in hand. With a flick of his arm holding a small length of wood, a slender spear shot forward, hitting one of the noobs with such force that it pierced straight through them, sticking into the ground a few feet behind.
“Chopsticks!” Striker bellowed.
Chopsticks stepped out into the light, hanging the atlatl on his belt, and pulling his hunting spear from his shoulder. “Striker! How’s it going, dude?”
“You son of a—” Striker dodged out of the way of a dino which lunged at him. “I’ll fucking tear you limb from limb!”
Chopsticks put a hand over his heart as he walked, calmly stepping over the body of a Ravager slain by one of his dinos. “Oof. Mean words hurt my feelings.”
“You never should have come here,” Rednex leveled his gun at Chopsticks across the melee. “After we’re done here, we’re going to level your base to the dirt.”
Max flicked off the safety and squeezed the detonator.
The top of the command tower was consumed in a fireball as the explosion ripped the building apart, sending flaming metal and powdered stone high into the air which showered down over the base.
Everyone close to the tower ducked at the ear-splitting explosion, all eyes turning to where the gun turret had been. With a cracking sound, the stonework began to come apart as the tower collapsed from the force.
Even the dinos spooked at the crumbling building, everyone quickly retreating from around the base of the tower.
Everyone except Chopsticks.
Like a loaded spring, Chopsticks shot forward with the dust cloud, skewering Striker in the chest with his spear. As Striker hit the ground, his hands grasped around the shaft of the spear, Chopsticks whipped his obsidian axe off of his belt and launched it at Rednex as he ran from the explosion, hitting him in the back where the razor-sharp blade sank past his armor and into his shoulder.
With a roar just heard over the rumble
of falling stone, Striker twisted his body, putting Chopsticks off-balance, and pulling the spear out of his armored torso, throwing it to the ground as he leaped to his feet. He lashed out with his metal axe; Chopsticks leaned back, easily avoiding the blow.
The dust cloud enveloped the scene, and Max lost sight of everyone except Rednex, who was pulling the axe out of his armor, and a few of the noobs who had moved away from the tower.
“Who are they?” Max heard one of the noobs ask as they coughed on the dust.
“I think they’re from the Coprolite Crew, remember we stole some dinos off of them a few weeks ago?” another answered.
“They are,” Rednex said, pulling a bandage out of his bag. “And we’re going to do more than steal a few dinos after this little stunt.”
“They’re coming from the west!” someone shouted from the walls.
Rednex looked up, then glanced back at the shadows of combat visible through the clearing dust. “Fuck! You guys, come with me!” He ran for the damaged west tower, bandaging his shoulder as he ran, six of the noobs following behind.
Max stood, at a loss for what to do. He could see Striker and Chopsticks duking it out around the crater where the remains of the command tower had slumped into the underground area. Chopsticks had retrieved his spear and was using it to keep distance, jabbing forward to score small cuts on Striker, who was desperately looking for an opening in Chopsticks’ guard, while fighting off the Coelophysis at his legs that tried to overpower him.
The rest of the dinos were still busy harassing and attacking the noobs, some of whom were fleeing for the walls toward Rednex.
For a moment Max thought that Chopsticks was going to be able to take Striker down this early into the assault when movement from the stables caught his eye.
The two recruits who followed Remington had saddled up two of the raptors and were sprinting across the base with the pack of Deinonychus toward the fight.
The raptors showed none of the apprehension the players had, the lead raptor ruthlessly snapping up one of the Coelophysis, stamping its killing claw down onto another.
Chopsticks stabbed down at Striker’s leg, sending him to his knees, before turning just in time to parry a blow from Goose, who swung a club from the back of his Utahraptor as it ran past.
Keeping his spear high to ward off the dinos and players, Chopsticks backed up toward the rubble of the tower, the Coelophysis that were left breaking away or letting go of anything they were fighting and following after him.
They all scrambled up the debris, disappearing down into the crater as arrows and stones from slings fell around them.
One of the Deinonychus, thirsty for blood, clambered up the debris after them and dropped down into the crater.
There was a blood-curdling scream that Max could only imagine came from the medium-sized raptor being eaten alive by twenty or so little mouths.
As a gunshot sounded from the wall, Striker picked himself up off the ground, looking at the carnage around him. Three of the noobs lay dead among the small bodies of the Coelophysis. Most of the other Ravager combatants were wounded, some much more severely than others, and all caked in dust, blood, and sweat.
A small object appeared in the air, arcing high before falling back onto the ground with a sound like shattered glass, flames roaring into life where it landed, rapidly scorching a patch of ground only a few feet away from the scene of the skirmish.
“Get back!” Striker shouted, and everyone close to the tower ran back as another flame bomb landed with a blaze. “Rednex!” he called. “Do you have an angle on him from up there?”
From on top of the wall, Rednex looked down toward him. “No, they’re too deep! You might want to get up here, we’ve got incoming!”
Striker pointed at the two players on top of the raptors as they sniffed at the bodies. “You two, make sure Chopsticks and his swarm don’t come back out of that pit.” He turned back to the remains of his original squad. “The rest of you, come with me!” As Striker swept his gaze over the base, he did a double-take as his eyes landed on Max. “Murf! Don’t just stand there! You’re with me!”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, there was a crack that sounded like thunder from the west wall. Rednex was waving his hands and pointing, moving everyone away from the tower and the spreading flames while keeping up a steady rate of fire down at the attackers.
Another boom sounded, and Max could see the top of the western lookout tower beginning to shift as the damaged stonework failed to support the weight of the structure, even with the scaffold. Everyone along the walls ran farther away from the damaged tower as it tilted forward, collapsing on its weakened foundations, taking down a section of wall on either side with it as it crumbled to the ground, throwing up another cloud of dust.
Max turned at the sound of thundering footsteps. The Majungatholus charged out of the stables, Remington sitting in the saddle, storming across the base toward the breach in the wall.
As the dust began to settle again, Max could see the bulky silhouette of a dino standing on two thick legs. It raised its head and let out a booming roar. A second, larger shadow joined beside it, opening its jaws to duet the terrible sound that Max imagined an earthquake would sound like.
“Pez,” Max breathed as he watched Abe and Lis look down into the base with hungry eyes that glinted through the settling dust.
Remington’s hulking dino responded with a bellow that ripped through the air, Max covered his ears from the deep call ending in a grating screech.
The Abelisaurs lowered their bodies, braced for the approach of their much larger adversary, guttural rumblings coming from their throats.
The Majungatholus reached the breach. Even without climbing onto the rubble, it was almost able to reach Abe as it slammed its jaws shut, Max feeling the sound more than hearing it.
Abe pulled his pale head back well out of the way of the attack, before bringing it back down. The sun glinted off of the armor running from his head down his back as his skull crashed against the snout of Remington’s mount, whose wide head bobbed from the impact.
Unperturbed, it stepped up onto the mound of debris, already beginning to tower over Abe, who arched his neck, looking for a weakness he could spring forward at.
Lis snapped her jaws as the Majungatholus came close, pushing Abe back, but she couldn’t squeeze between Abe and the wall to reach her mark.
From her back, Pez shot his rifle up at the wall, returning fire at the flurry of arrows that rained down on the two dinos. Although most of the projectiles glanced off of his armor, they were still scoring a steady stream of cuts down Abe’s bare flanks, Pez twisting his body around to avoid being hit.
Max could also see some of his friend’s raptors around the legs of the two Abelisaurus, sizing up whether they could dart past and into the base.
He could hear Remington shouting something as the dinos stared off against each other, but he could not make out what he was saying over the stamping of huge feet and baying of the dinos.
His attention was quickly pulled away from the wall to a commotion much closer to him.
“Shit! Fire! Fire!” Chack screamed from around the side of the remains of the command tower.
Max ran over to where Striker and his noobs had been moving toward the breach.
“No no no no!” Striker broke away from his squad, running for the forge. “NO!”
Chack backed away from the storehouse, which was streaming out thick black smoke. The hot embers from the grass fire Chopsticks had started had blown toward the storehouse, igniting something within.
“I didn’t realize it would spread so fast! I didn’t even get a chance to try and stamp it out,” Chack said.
Striker put both hands behind his head, glancing at the standoff between the giants at the wall. “We don’t have much water left! We’ll have to, I don’t fucking know, we’ll have to shovel the wet dirt from the farm onto it.”
“I’ve got it!” Max yelled
as he ran past them, heading for the forge. “I think there’s some water in here!” He didn’t wait for a reply as he darted inside, beelining for the alcove full of materials.
He grabbed two of the lidded clay vessels from one of the shelves, the weight of them telling him they were full. Hoping he’d grabbed the right ones, he sprinted back out, not even looking at Striker as he ran toward the storehouse.
“Murf! Wait—!”
But he was already inside.
Smoke had filled the room within, the acrid black gas hit him like a brick wall as he watched the growing flames through watering eyes.
The blaze had taken hold quickly, tearing through the flammable supplies that had been so carefully stored dry after the leak he had caused.
Coughing and spluttering, Max weaved his way through the various piles and barrels of resources, tools, and ammunition toward the raging fire.
Fighting every instinct to run away from the heat, to escape the choking smoke that was draining his stamina and health, Max instead threw himself at the fire, the two clay pots grasped tightly in his arms.
His vision was filled with hues of orange and red as he felt Murf’s body burning before there was a blinding light, and his whole world turned black.
Chapter Fifty-Four
As soon as the respawn timer appeared over the inky blackness that filled his vision, Max tabbed out to the account management screen. Two names appeared on the overlay, the second slightly out of focus from where it wasn’t centered.
Max selected Murf, which brought up details such as when it was created, the amount of time played, and the fact that he was currently dead. He flicked his eyes up to the big red X in the corner, mentally selecting it.
Are you sure you want to delete this character [Murf]?
(This is a permanent action)
Max didn’t hesitate as he thought, Yes.
A small loading icon appeared for a moment before the previous screen reappeared, this time only showing the details for Holic.
Max let out a sigh, turning off the headset and pulling it off of his head. He got up off the sofa on stiff legs, heading for the kitchen area. His hands shook from adrenaline as he grabbed a glass and poured himself some water, gulping it down.
