Respawn: 18 and Up (Respawn LitRPG series Book 3)

by Arthur Stone

  Which would be sad, because it wasn’t very sharp.

  * * *

  Breathing raggedly, Cheater clutched at the roots of the trees as he climbed up to ledge at the edge of a sparse grove of trees. Once he was up top, he fell to his knees, wheezing loud enough to signal every infected within a mile around.

  He was ready. The journey had been rushed, but short enough. With his Hunger in the dumps and his Stamina still unable to recover, his Pleasure was suffering. Cheater needed to rest and enjoy a good meal, not compete in triathlons.

  What’s that? The green arrow in his field of vision was blinking unhealthily. He had not noticed that before, not for the entire time he had pursued it. Why had its behavior changed all of a sudden?

  Realizing, he perked up and hopped forward.

  The green arrow flashed one more time, then winked out. Cheater recalled the last and only time he had watched someone retrieving a personal cache. He looked around. Trees, bushes, sparse clumps of grass. The only object on the ground that could remotely be considered suspicious was a small mound of earth next to a charred tree stump.

  He set the cleaver to work. The dirt gave way twenty seconds later to reveal an absurdly long black plastic case.

  Cheater threw it open and pulled out a bow and three arrows with tips carved from the choicest fangs of elite ghouls. Only three arrows. Ammunition of all types required a special personal cache inventory cell, and for him, that cell had a limit of 170 grams. He had wracked his brains over whether to take a decent number of the lightest arrows or a paltry number of the most powerful arrows, capable of smashing clean through a raffler’s head when fired at close range.

  The choice had been a tough one.

  Returning to the ravine, he began to work with his cleaver again, chopping off the top of a young, thin tree, along with any undesired branches. Then, he placed he bow over the tree, so that its trunk ran between the bowstring and the bow itself. The weapon slid down to lie horizontally along the somewhat flattened stump. Nocking an arrow, Cheater prepared to draw the string, wondering to himself how this could possibly work.

  As a weapon, the bow is a study in paradox. It is difficult to learn, yet at the same time primitive. Show a child how to use it, and they understand immediately. Just hold it vertically with one hand, place an arrow against the string with your other hand, pull, and release.

  But shooting a reasonably large bow positioned horizontally is a trick. An impossible one when you are unable to hold the bow.

  Cheater’s hated cuffs prevented him from doing this. The chain was simply too short. He could hold either the bow or the bowstring, not both.

  And so, he decided on the bowstring.

  * * *

  Less than two minutes later, his pursuers arrived. They had nearly come before he was ready.

  Cheater drew the bowstring with both hands and tried to somehow aim as soon as he saw them scramble over the crest of the ravine’s slope. The bowshaft, hooked as it was around the shortened tree, creaked and strained, spun after the arrow was released, with nothing holding it to counteract the torque. Thankfully, it could not escape the tree, so it fell to Cheater’s feet.

  The archer picked the weapon back up as he kept his eyes riveted on his target. His Accuracy worked, and the arrow struck the distant pursuer clean in the chest. Light bulletproof vests worked well against the claws of young infecteds and against buck-shot, but it was only bare Kevlar without any kind of plating, and so it could not stop serious projectiles. The enemy fell backwards, and all motion ceased.

  Cheater had hoped the other would not immediately realize what had happened. Without knowing what had taken down his comrade, he should act as though unafraid of arrows.

  But that wasn’t what happened. As if he had eyes in the back of his head, he acted without looking back towards the noise of the falling man. Nor did he hesitate to respond. He raised his machine gun in a flash and took aim at Cheater.

  The target was still fussing with his bow. There simply hadn’t been enough time to reposition, re-nock, and redraw. Thankfully this man did not really want to kill Cheater, just cripple him, and so he did not fire soon enough.

  The two of them shot at the same time, the automatic rustling of shots muffled by a massive silencer, and the twang-slap of another novel tree-braced bow shot.

  Novel shots were Cheater’s specialty.

  With a scream, the machine gunner fell onto his side, shooting only once more—into the sky.

  Perhaps they would try something stronger than handcuffs next time. Two arrows, two corpses.

  Cheater considered his victory, even though his thoughts should have been elsewhere. The first bullet had found its mark. Passing right along his shin, it had left a deep gash before flying further on. It felt like the bone itself was undamaged, but it still hurt like hell.

  Cheater tried desperately to ignore the wound as he clumsily descended and moved to loot his defeated opponents. No victory message had shown yet, so it was likely that one of them was still alive.

  His cleaver would fix that.

  It was the closer pursuer, the one who had shot Cheater, who had died instantly. The arrow had pierced his cheekbone, driving through his brain, but the tip had not exited the back of his head, only created a bulge vaguely similar to a ghoul’s sporesac.

  The man Cheater had shot first was still alive. The one Cheater had taken his time to aim at, striving to line up the perfect shot in breathtakingly imperfect conditions.

  But the arrow had pierced the Kevlar and driven deep into his chest, damaging something crucial. He was only moving his head, and his breath sounded like a scared, hunted animal’s. His limp body provided further clues.

  Cheater crouched down, cleaver at the ready. “Paralyzed?”

  “Looks like it. I can’t feel anything below my neck, and my little figure in the menu is all red, except for my head.”

  “I can’t leave you alive, you know. But I can give you an easy death, at least. Or I can just leave you here. After dragging you over to an anthill and shooting up in the air a few times. With the silencer off.”

  “You don’t look like the sort of man who likes to do nasty things like that.”

  “So I do things for what, love? No, I’m willing to do anything to get what I want.”

  “What is it you want?”

  “The answers to a few questions.”

  “Well, hurry it up. I feel like shit.”

  “How’d you find me?”

  “Lark saw fresh tracks. He’s better than a hound dog at following people.”

  “That’s not what I mean. How did you find me in Pyramid?”

  “I didn’t. The elders made that decision. I don’t even know how you ended up in the vehicle. They brought you with a bag over your head.”

  “The elders?”

  “Pyramid’s Tarantula set up the team.”

  “Tarantula? What the hell is that?”

  “Are you kidding me?” the man looked genuinely surprised.

  “I’m a newcomer.”

  “Not quite a moron, though. You should have heard, around the stables.”

  “I don’t go to stables very often.”

  “There’s a spider tattooed on my arm. Do you know what that means?”

  “It’s a gang symbol. The Spiders. Like a local biker gang.”

  “This is a good place for bikers. Lots of open space.”

  “Right. Good place for a gang.”

  “Come on, we’re decent people,” the wounded man said with a grin, and then a hoarse cough. “Tarantula is a title. The local boss, Pyramid region. I don’t know what you did, or to whom, but you’re in trouble. Deep trouble. We know what drives you, and we know what you look like. You should give yourself up, if you ask me. And if you bring me in alive, it’ll count in your favor.”

  “You carted me down the road for a whole day. What the hell do you need from me?”

  “No idea. We waited half a day for our escort. But there
was some kind of screw-up, like there always is on the Continent. So we took you north on our own. There were people up who paid our people for you to be delivered alive. You know better than I do who they are. Nobody tells me anything.”

  “So you took me north for half a day?”

  “Half a day since when? I was hired in the morning. They pulled me right out from under the blanket where I was plugging this check. Then we went to wait for that escort for half of the day. After that, yes, we took you almost straight north, along the safest roads.”

  “Not so safe after all, I guess.”

  “You’re right about that. Not a safe road in this whole damn world. So, how about we negotiate your surrender?”

  Cheater shook his head.

  “Sorry, but that’s not an option.”

  “Too bad. I still don’t get how you pulled that off. Your hands are cuffed, and to work a bow, you need both hands.”

  “That reminds me: Any chance you know how to get cuffs off?”

  “Yeah, I do. Just pull this arrow out, give me some lifejuice, and wait twelve hours for my spinal cord to heal. Then I’ll take them off.”

  “You take me for an idiot.”

  “It was worth a shot,” the man grinned.

  Cheater stood and pointed the rifle at his head.

  The man closed his eyes.

  “Glad you could spare a bullet. That’s kind of you.”

  “You’ve earned it,” Cheater said as he squeezed the trigger.

  Personal victory: immune Hound destroyed. Level 29, Humanity: low positive. Personal victory: immune Handy destroyed. Level 28, Humanity: low positive. +5 progress points to Strength. +20 progress points to Agility. +40 progress points to Speed. +9 progress points to Endurance. +29 progress points to Accuracy.

  That was that. Another victory. Thankfully these opponents had been less serious. Not quite level 20 yet. Perhaps all of the stronger candidates had been taken out of duty by the explosion of the day before. Cheater’s trail would go cold before backup could arrive, and players with tracking abilities would no longer be able to find it.

  Of course, he was still cuffed, with a wound on his lower leg. But now he had some gear, weapons, and provisions. After picking the best items, he would leave immediately. One more silver lining, too: he now knew which direction they had taken him.

  Chapter 21

  Life Seven: More Digis

  The chat blinked impudently as Cheater was crossing a wide highway. It was too open, but also too long to move past any other way. He had sat in the bushes by the roadside while a couple of stronger runners had passed by, and then he had booked it to the other side.

  The message was March saying hello.

  Cheater should have been the one to send the first message. He needed to remember to check the chat system more often. The black clusters between two areas were variable, so there were often windows for communications that popped up.

  “Good morning, chap. Well, I know it’s day for you, but since I just got up, I still consider it morning. And I’m talking to myself here, so, good morning. After all, you’re playing the quiet game again. Are you back in the hospital? What happened this time? Penile amputation with complications and a subsequent coma? I understand, buddy, I do. I’d be upset after something like that, too.”

  “No hospital this time. And I still have all my parts, except some skin from my leg. And a lot of blood is missing, I guess.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything? You hate me now?”

  “I tried to write, but our chat was grayed out. Black clusters between us.”

  “How’d you find black clusters? The day before yesterday, we said goodnight and you pranced off to some pretentious hotel. There aren’t any dead clusters within howitzer range of Pyramid. It’s the ideal place for clear communications.”

  “I ended up farther away.”

  “What brought you out there?”

  “Other people. Bad people. They grabbed me right from my hotel room. Stunned me, put a bag over my head, and drove me out.”

  “I knew all those ‘safe zone’ advertisements were a lie. Nothing is safe in this world.”

  “It was the Spiders. They were hired to nab me. Either they didn’t fall for Tat’s explanations, or they just figured things out for themselves. Unless they just happen to grab everybody who’s similar to me and drive north to deliver us to their client. That’s where they were taking me, north, but I managed to escape on the way.”

  “Escape the Spiders? Oh wait, yeah, I forgot: Lucky Boy.”

  “I’m still cuffed. I can’t figure out how to get the cuffs off. And I don’t know quite where I am. Can you help me figure it out?”

  “Ah, so I’m your personal map manager again? You could try buying your own maps for a change, you know.”

  “I did buy a few, but they don’t cover this far out. North wasn’t my plan, you know.”

  “Wasn’t your plan. Hmm. Well, yeah, you’re up north. A little bit east, too. But just a tiny bit. You’re nearly a hundred miles away from Pyramid. Pretty far.”

  “It could be worse. I sure don’t need to go back to Pyramid again. Ever.”

  “I agree. The Spiders are strong here. Unpleasant guys, and this place is a major nest. But that means you’ll have to get out of her entirely. This whole region is full of Spiders. I advised you to level up to level 20 and then try to get a post with some traders heading to a neighboring region, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, that is no longer my advice. Forget it entirely. Bikers are just guys on motorcycles. But the Spiders are a whole organization. Professional and pretentious like you’ve never seen. They were the ones who first organized a trade route between regions. It’s under their complete control. All traders who use the route pay them protection money. You understand what I’m saying.”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s too bad you had a fight with them. The northeastern route would have been passable without any trouble.

  “I’m not going northeast.”

  “What? But what about Kitty?”

  “She’s due east of here. Three borders out. I have to cross two full regions. The sea is to the southeast, and everyone says to stay away from saltwater entirely. Razers. And if I go northeast, that’s three regions, four borders. And it’s a greater distance to cross.”

  “Better to add a thousand extra miles than an extra border, believe me.”

  “Northeast means a thousand extra miles and an extra border. No sense even considering it.”

  “Maybe, but you could cross a couple of those borders with the merchants. That’s a big boost to your chances. And you’re less likely to run into a razer. They hardly ever show up in the North. The South is a different matter.”

  “But I’ve heard that both regions aren’t considered particularly full of razers. They exist there, but only thinly. After all, they don’t like the black clusters, and there are plenty of black clusters there.”

  “Right. Even more the farther north you go.”

  “And up north I have to avoid every human I see, since the Spiders are numerous up there and in the region I’ll be heading to. That’s my suspicion, anyway.”

  “Which is a correct one. The iron horse riders have built a mighty business on clearing out several wealthy military clusters up there. They keep any outsiders, well, outside. Don’t even think of hitting those clusters. Some of the locals even have a thriving production process going on. There’s a factory up there that comes in on resets full of ammunition casings for all kinds of weapons. So these people make the final product there.”

  “So the area has a product that’s in demand, but with the components needed for its production scattered among a few neighboring regions.”

  “Right. That’s where the trade caravans operate. The casings can be reloaded several times before they reach the end of their life. Profitable business. They have a bunch of other ventures, too. Some of them even sell radspores from poisoned clust
ers. The Spiders are everywhere both here and there, so I think you need to figure out how to deal with them.”

  “How? By killing them all? What other option is there? Alright, well, I’ll take your advice. Better start sharpening my ax.”

  “Maybe there’s another way. You’re a secretive type. Do you have a big bag of choice spores hidden somewhere, by any chance? The Spiders here aren’t interested in flies. They’re just interested in money.”

  “First off, I’ve already lost a lot of time. Secondly, why should I pay off a gang when I’m not even guilty, when I owe none of them anything?”

  “This world is cruel and unfair. Get used to that. Nobody cares whether you’re to blame or whether you’ve been framed. Pay them off before they turn all their resources against you.”

  “There’s one more thing. I’ve pissed off one of those rare monsters who has a much bigger sack of spores than I do. One of the most veteran players here.”

  “Nice.”

  “He has major connections. I can’t believe he managed to organize my kidnapping so quickly. So I’m going to continue moving slowly east. And around level 25, I’ll make my first attempt to get across. Maybe I’ll get lucky again. But if not, at least I’ll have some personal experience of the place.”

  “Go on, then. The quicker you get wiped out, the faster these stupid thoughts will flee your head. Oh sure, I know you’re an idiot, but even idiots usually have limits to their idiocy. Going across multiple regions for the sake of some woman, now that’s idiocy unbounded.”

  “Thanks for your kind words. One little question left. An important one, though. Do you know how I can get a pair of shackles off my hands? I thought about shooting the chain, but that seems dangerous. The ricochet could go anywhere, and obviously it’d be point-blank.”

  “You’re in cuffs?”

  “Nope, just planning to them it out someday. Yes I’m in cuffs! I’ve been dragging this chain along ever since I escaped. Since yesterday evening. And they’re getting pretty tiresome.”