Ghouls'n Guns

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Ghouls'n Guns Page 8

by Jared Mandani


  “Let’s hope so,” Zeke beamed. “Anything to keep it interesting.” Then he stood aside, gesturing to the machinery inside the hut. “Look, it’s all done. I thought that I would give you the honors,” he said. “That button there should get through to the compound up above. And if they don’t answer, I’ve rigged the key-switch so I can open the gate from out here.”

  “Why don’t we just open it ourselves, then?” Davidoff asked.

  Zeke shrugged. “I figured it would be better to buzz them first. You never know what you might find up there.”

  “Fair point,” Davidoff replied. He pressed the button for the comms link to the compound. There was a microphone on the dashboard, hastily patched together by Zeke, and he spoke into it. “Hello? Hello?” he said. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  The speakers buzzed and crackled with static for a few seconds and then, just as Davidoff was about to try again, a hoarse woman’s voice came through. “Reading you,” it said. “This is Professor Indigo. Who is this?”

  “My name is Davidoff. Me and my associate were directed here from Dr. Finkelstein’s lab. Is he here?” Davidoff replied, unsure as to how much information he should be offering before they knew more.

  The voice went away for a few seconds and there was no sound other than the radio’s static. Then another voice came on. “Davidoff, is that you?” it asked. It was Dr. Finkelstein himself, sounding weary but relieved.

  “Yes, doctor,” he replied. “We’re here. One of the workers at the factory told us to find you here.”

  “My dear boy,” the doctor sighed. “Come on up, please, hurry up.”

  The gate buzzed and clicked and Zeke went to take a look at it. “It’s open,” Zeke called back. The magnetic locks had all been unsealed and only the chains and padlocks remained. Up ahead, they saw a couple of people emerge from one of the compound’s main buildings. They jumped into an open topped jeep and began to drive down to meet them. As they did so, both Zeke and Davidoff felt another couple of XP points adding to their total.

  I think that is enough, Davidoff thought. I can buy myself a decent set of new skills when I get the chance.

  ***

  The figures who came to open the gate for them were two women in camo clothing, each toting assault rifles. However, they did not have the bearing of soldiers. They were clearly lab assistants or similar, turned into fighters by recent events. They gave Davidoff and Zeke a warm greeting, however, and brought them up to the main compound.

  Dr. Finkelstein met them at the main building’s entrance, looking ashen-faced and frail. He had been through so much in such a short amount of time, and it was clearly wearing him down. However, he was very pleased when they gave him the sample they had taken from the warlocks. He beamed, blubbered his thanks and took them through to a makeshift lab in what looked like it had once been a hangar for military vehicles.

  Twenty or so men and women were in the lab, all of them in makeshift clothing and wearing weapons self-consciously. They were all equally as pleased at the vial’s recovery as Dr. Finkelstein himself had been, and all cheered when the doctor announced what it was.

  “And these two brave young men brought it for us, against all the odds!” Dr. Finkelstein said to the assembled crowd. He turned to Davidoff and Zeke, a smile playing on his quivering lips. “Now, perhaps, we can try to synthesize something. Perhaps there is a way out of this mess after all.”

  He gave the vial over to a woman dressed in a long, white coat and thick glasses. She began to decant the blood into petri dishes, delicately handling a pipette. However, before Davidoff and Zeke could see too much of what was going on, Dr. Finkelstein took them to one side and whispered to them. “What of my old lab?” he asked, his voice quavering slightly. “What of the plant?”

  “All in ruins, I am afraid,” Zeke replied, looking at the floor. “It burned down, fully. We only just got out in time. No one else made it.”

  The doctor nodded and sighed, his worst fears confirmed.

  “Still, there is hope now,” he said, clearly making a great effort to be cheerful.

  “Perhaps,” Davidoff said, still uneasy about the ghoul he met outside. He told the doctor about it, explaining in greater detail so as to bring Zeke up to speed as well. However, the doctor shrugged when Davidoff finished.

  “These creatures are mad,” he said. “And perhaps, yes, they are forming a grander plan. Who knows? But, either way, all we can do is fight. And if we have a cure, or at least some kind of chemical weapon to undermine their mutations, then we will be able to… we will be able to fight them off, even with our limited manpower.

  “Now,” he said. “Come with me. The army left in a hurry. There is all sorts here. I have money for you, and your pick of the military hardware we seem to have inherited.”

  As they walked along, following the doctor along a corridor off to the hangar’s side, Davidoff and Zeke both staggered slightly. They were both bombarded with XP. They each received 80 points for having completed the extended mission. Then, as they were led into a lockup, the doctor gave them each an envelope with $500 inside in cash.

  “And please, take whatever you can carry,” he said, switching the light on and revealing a large room filled with munitions. Most of it was decorative: large crates and guns with which they could not interact. However, there were plenty of smaller rifles, explosives and tools that they could pick up.

  Davidoff threw away his shotgun, knowing that he could not carry it alongside a larger rifle. To his side, Zeke was discarding his revolver, having no further need of it. Instead, he grabbed a small, pistol variant Uzi with several reloads and a large, chunky black modern pistol. He would be an absolute tank using either, Davidoff thought. That Uzi could mow down a whole rank of zombies, and the pistol’s stopping power would be horrendous.

  For himself, he selected a larger Uzi, to be used as his main heavy weapon. It could shoot 500 rounds per minute, and each round would cause at least Damage 90. He also upgraded his pistol for one that could hold 12 rounds and could also do about Damage 90 or so per shot, but with much greater accuracy than the Uzi.

  I knew we would be hard hitters before long, he thought, smiling to himself. Add these to the increased marksmanship he was planning to buy with his XP and he would be devastating in combat.

  They hunkered down in the supply room, taking as much spare ammunition as they could carry, picking up a few more grenades and raiding the room’s medical supplies.

  Chapter Six

  They both wandered out of the main building, back into the compound. They had healed themselves up a fair amount. After a little rest, Davidoff knew he would be back up to 100% HP, ready in the morning to take on the next mission they fancied.

  All around them were signs of hastily erected fortifications. There were sandbags and crates built up, along with lengths of metal piping, wood and other detritus, to form makeshift walls. There were trenches dug out of the peak’s earthy sides and a couple of hefty machine guns had been set up in a bunker near where the road entered the compound. Hundreds of feet of barbed wire had been spooled out in a great ring, circling the perimeter, breaking only a few times to allow road and path access. “They mean business here,” Davidoff noted.

  “Yeah, I guess they really are scared,” Zeke said. “You can’t blame them, really, though, can you?”

  “No,” Davidoff agreed. “Imagine being trapped here? It’s a nightmare. Code Red have done a real number here. Best ever, I’d say.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right. It gives me the creeps, and that’s not easily done,” Zeke conceded. “How about we make some upgrades then log out? I’m shattered, I need some sleep.”

  “Sounds good.”

  So saying, they both shut their eyes and brought up the options menus. The world closed off to Davidoff immediately and the same screen from the very beginning appeared. His own body stood on the left hand side of the screen, with his stats taking up some
of the right hand. Beneath his stats, there were some upgrade menus to choose from: some gave him options to boost each of his stats by a few points, whereas a couple of others showed him new skills that he could buy.

  He had accrued an XP of 585 in the short time he had been here, largely thanks both to taking down the zombie elephant back down in the city and to his successful completion of their current mission. He scrolled through all of his options, seeing what he could buy, judging what might be the most useful to him in their coming fights.

  He wanted to increase his Agility, Melee Weapon Skill and Ballistic Accuracy, if he could. These would all allow him to make the most out of his new weapons. They would also mean that when push came to shove and he was fighting for his life, any attacks he made would come quicker and land more effectively.

  If I had been able to hit that big ghoul on the bridge a little more accurately, snapshooting it in the eyes or something, it would have been a lot easier, he thought to himself. He decided to portion some of his XP out over these stats after he had taken a look at the Skills options.

  Scrolling through the Skills menu, he found a couple of promising ones. Acrobat and Gymnast both looked good, though a little similar. Either one would allow him to move far more gracefully, jumping higher, landing more smoothly and so forth. Acrobat would also give him some decent flips and jump kicks, whilst Gymnast would grant him better balance and more accuracy when moving.

  He decided on Acrobat. The aerial kicks were too tempting. It cost him XP 210, leaving him with a remaining XP 375.

  Next, he found a skill called Counter Strike, which looked perfect for his style of fighting. It allowed for greater accuracy (anywhere from +5 / +20%) when you were being fired upon, and for greater counter attacks after a block or parry in hand to hand melee. It would give Davidoff an edge for sure. He was conscious earlier in the game that—whenever he was running through enemy fire, like when he was up against the warlocks, or when he was having to defend himself whilst throwing out attacks, like against the ghouls and especially the large ghoul on the bridge—he was losing a great deal of efficiency in his shots. Where he should be making critical hits, he was sometimes missing and instead hitting a less vital area. The Skill cost a whopping XP 300, however, which would nearly clean him out and leave him with a mere XP 75.

  But it’s worth it, he thought. I’ll be able to leap into battle, scoring critical hits like nobody’s business!

  He bought it, adding it to his profile and leaving himself with just that 75 XP left over to spend on boosting his stats. He looked into the breakdown of what each of the stats he wanted would cost to buff. Agility was relatively cheap: for each 2 XP points spent, he would increase his Agility by 1 point. However, Melee Weapons Skill and Ballistic Accuracy were more expensive: each 1 point he wanted to increase them by would cost him 5 XP points.

  It makes sense, he thought, they are far more vital in a fight than Agility or anything like that.

  Out of curiosity, he checked out the others. 1 point of Morale cost 2 XP points, whilst Damage and Resistance were each 4 points. HP was the most expensive, with 1 point of HP costing 6 XP.

  That’s good to know, he thought. With the new skills he would buy, he would be fairly well set as a fighter. The next big payload of XP could go on Resistance and HP, therefore, buying him a fair amount and making him a lot more durable.

  His choices made, he confirmed his purchases. He spread everything quite evenly, taking an extra 5 points each on his Melee Weapon Skill and Ballistic Accuracy, costing 50 XP all told. He then spent 20 XP on Agility, increasing it by 10, and leaving himself with a remaining 5 XP to bank for next time.

  After everything, he looked at his new profile:

  Agility

  71

  Melee Weapon Skill

  48

  Ballistic Accuracy

  32

  Damage

  44

  Resistance

  32

  Initiative

  48

  Morale

  78

  HP

  420

  XP

  5

  Skills

  Ambidextrous, Knife Fighter, Acrobat, Counter Strike

  It all looked good. His combat skills and firefighting skills would be greatly improved, and he would be faster, lighter on his feet and more nimble than ever. A proper ninja, he thought to himself as he logged out of the options menu and returned to reality in the compound.

  He watched Zeke for about thirty seconds. His friend was standing completely still with his eyes closed and a dead look to his muscles. He was frozen in space, clearly still looking through his own options menu. Then, with a sigh, he opened his eyes and his body reanimated once more.

  “All good?” Davidoff asked him.

  Zeke nodded, smiling. “Yep, I got me some good stuff,” he replied. Davidoff took a quick glance at his friend’s new profile, looking at benefits he had taken from his XP.

  Apart from a couple of minor tweaks to his stat line—a slight increase to his Melee Weapon Skill, Ballistic Accuracy and Initiative—the main changes to Zeke’s profile were in his choice of new Skills.

  He had taken on two new ones. The first, Marksman, gave him an extra 5 / 15% accuracy when aiming with a gun sight, which was how he usually used his powerful bolt rifle. It would make those deadly shots even more devastating. The other Skill was Brawler, a seemingly odd choice—it gave him an extra couple of points in resistance, and more chance of parrying, against melee attacks. Zeke would not usually go for any kind of close combat Skills. However, he was clearly spooked from having had to get up so close and personal with some of the ghouls they had faced.

  Fair enough, Davidoff thought. It’s all useful.

  All told, he liked the look of Zeke’s amended profile:

  Agility

  32

  Melee Weapon Skill

  34

  Ballistic Accuracy

  62

  Damage

  54

  Resistance

  54

  Initiative

  68

  Morale

  62

  HP

  455

  XP

  11

  Skills

  Engineer, Heavy Weapons Specialist, Marksman, Brawler

  They would be able to go on to a campaign of really decent fights, he thought. “Same time tomorrow, then?” he asked. “Get some sleep and then we can try out our new moves?”

  “Yeah, sounds good,” Zeke replied. “I’ll text you in the morning when I’m about to log on.”

  That being said, they both prepared to exit the game…

  ***

  Davidoff exited his character screen and went back to the home screen, the very first thing that any player logging in saw. It was from here that both he and Zeke began their quest, seeking out the initial ghoul before selecting their characters. It was from here that he was to log off.

  However, as Davidoff clicked the button which read EXIT, the screen blurred. It did not let him exit, but rather just made everything fuzzy for a couple of seconds. Where he should have felt his immersion suit loosening, readying to release him, he felt it pinch in around him even tighter, jealously holding onto his body.

  “What the—” he muttered, then he stopped, choking, as the suit clutched onto his ribcage.

  The home screen clicked back into focus for a split second, so crystal clear that it was jarring, before disappearing entirely. Davidoff felt as though he was falling, like the pit of his stomach had dropped out even as the immersion suit clutched a tight hold of him.

  It sucked him back into the game, dropping him with a hard crash back to where he had been standing in the military compound.

  Dav
idoff tried to stand but fell over, staggering. The earth beneath his hands was cold and he scrabbled through it, disoriented, sick feeling. The suit relaxed a little and he took great gasps of air, filling his lungs. The hardware did not need to hold him anymore, he realized. The software had fully abducted his consciousness and it would not let him go.

  Zeke landed next to him, heavier and only half-conscious. He too staggered, managing to get up onto his hands and knees as he choked, spluttering and pale as death. His body buzzed a little, snapping into a pixelated state first, before coming back into focus. This happened a couple of times, and Davidoff could only assume that the same thing had happened to him.

  He could hear footsteps coming from the compound’s main hangar, and he could hear raised voices. Looking up, he saw the chemists running towards them, Dr. Finkelstein in the lead. They all looked terrified and they were all crying out, shouting. As he watched them, however, Davidoff’s vision clouded. It refocused, and then it clouded again, over and over as the world closed in.

  Finally, as the world around him shattered into pixels, a few words flashed up in a text box, a few feet in front of him.

  USER ERROR: AI INTERFACE TAKEOVER

  Then, with a final sigh, both Davidoff and Zeke passed out, lying down in the pixelated dirt as the chemists clamored all around them. The tips of their shoes were the last thing that Davidoff noticed before closing his eyes and releasing himself. He heard their voices growing dim before everything disappeared.

  ***

  “W-what has happened?” he whispered, begging the air with his eyes still tightly closed. It could have been seconds or it could have been hours since he passed out. He had no idea; he had completely lost his bearings. “What the hell is going on?” he asked, his voice coming a little stronger now.

 

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