by Wyatt Savage
The man used his shirt to wipe a line of dirt from Jackie’s face. Jackie noticed that everything was powerful about him. His large, hunched frame; his square head; his mallet-sized hands. He was the kind of person who communicated more with looks than with words, and she realized that he was a person of high station, likely a honcho in one of the powerful cartels.
“What are you doing here, senora?”
“Trying not to get killed.”
“You are not doing a very good job.”
Jackie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. All she could manage was exasperation as she sucked in a deep breath, trying to gain her bearings.
The man continued, “Do you know that the game has started?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know that it is being scored?”
She nodded, fully aware of her value or lack thereof, as a means to level up. Despite everything that had happened so far, the fact that she’d been reduced to nothing more than a point value still shocked her more than anything else. Nothing she’d done in life had led to a different result. Everyone was worth the same, no matter how hard they’d worked, sacrificed, and given to others.
“Twenty-five points,” he continued. “This is what your life is worth.”
“I know.”
The larger-than-life man nodded, allowing a brief smile. It only lasted a second, and he returned to a serious demeanor. “I did not get a chance to introduce myself before…when you saved my son,” he said, pausing and allowing his eyes to show gratitude. “My name is Armando Buarque de Macedo.”
“I’m Jackie.”
“You are a medical professional, yes?”
“Yes, sir.”
Armando smiled. “Thank you for what you did before. Thank you for saving my son, Miguel.”
“How is he?”
A pained expression gripped Armando’s face. “He is with his mother and God now.”
Jackie remembered that the boy was not between the ages of eighteen and fifty-four. Not in the range to participate in the Melee. How could it be so arbitrary? How could it be so unfair?
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be. You gave him back to me for a while longer and that meant everything. There was, how do you say, time for…closure.” Armando turned and looked at the other people still kneeling, including Jorge. “You must go away from here now, Jackie. This is no place for someone like you.”
“I don’t know where to go.”
“The wall.”
“I can’t,” she said.
“You have no choice. Did you not receive the vision from the Noctem? All of us have 19 days to reach the Great Pyramid of Giza, the center of the Earth. That is where the victors, the winners in the Melee will be recognized.” Armando swept his hand. “There is nothing left here but death. Ordinarily, you would die here, but I hold a certain amount of, shall we say, sway, and can grant limited dispensations because you saved my son.”
Jackie pointed to Jorge. “He’s with me. He’s a good person.”
“Good person?” Armando repeated as if it was a slur. “That doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Please.”
Armando considered this, then flicked his wrist and shouted at the police. One of them grabbed Jorge and hoisted him to his feet.
“What about the others?” Jackie asked. “Will you give them mercy.”
“Mercy is not mine to give,” Armando replied.
Armando signaled for everyone to move back. He walked alongside Jackie, who was stricken with a coughing fit.
“You are sick,” Armando said. “I can read your numbers.”
“I can’t read yours.”
“When you have enough points you can block others from seeing yours. You are infected.”
Jackie nodded. “Trust me, I’ve noticed. Unfortunately for two of your foot soldiers, they didn’t.”
“You need to heal yourself,” he replied, ignoring the dig.
“I don’t have enough points,” she replied.
“I know. But I will help you get all the points you need.”
Armando whistled to one of his men, who handed him an olive-colored cylindrical object. He held it up for Jackie to see.
“Do you know what this is?”
“No.”
“A grenade. An explosive.” Armando pointed to a circular pin on the grenade. “You pull this and throw it.”
“What happens then? How is this supposed to help me get a medpack?” Jackie asked.
“It goes boom,” Armando said, flashing a dark smile. He angled his chin back toward the other people who were still kneeling. Several of them had begun muttering prayers. “They are dead anyway, Jackie.”
“You want me to kill them?”
“I want you to release them and heal yourself, so that you can continue doing good, saving lives.”
The other people were herded together and forced at gunpoint down into a shallow pit. They truly were helpless and would be dead soon at the hands of the marauders or others. They wouldn’t last long now, no matter how much they might have deserved mercy.
Jackie wanted to scream and shout and protest what was happening, but what good would it have done? She was a stranger in a foreign land, out of weapons, out of luck, and slowly running out of time. And Armando had a point. Death was omnipresent. The still, small voice that had come to her before whispered in Jackie’s ear, reminding her that there were only the hunted and the hunters, and better that the prey die quickly than suffer a gruesome, lingering death.
She coughed again and this time, the ball was almost entirely full of blood with little bits of viscera mixed in. The worms were more numerous, larger, and one of them opened up a hole in her hand with its tiny teeth and burrowed down under her index finger.
She took the grenade from Armando. It was cool to the touch, the surface rough, covered in a layer of thick paint.
The other members of Armando’s group—the crooked cops and the armed civilians—scattered, knowing to avoid what was about to happen. Armando placed his fingers on Jackie’s hand, helping her pull the pin as the other voice came to her. “Wait three seconds,” the voice said to her. “Just three seconds and they will be sent on to their rewards.”
Was she a saint or a murderer? In a world where everything had been turned upside down, she wasn’t sure there was a difference.
Her mind went black. She tried to remember the words to one of the Beatles songs, but nothing came to her. She was shocked to find that she wasn’t anxious at all. A kind of strange serenity had come over her. What was she waiting for? What was she holding onto? A memory of her past life, of a world that she would likely never return to? Everything had changed and everyone was either dead or likely to be dead in the near future. She closed her eyes and tossed the grenade as hard as she could. The grenade corkscrewed through the air and landed in the shallow pit. The people reacted, screaming, and Jackie covered her ears as a strange thrill of transgression swept over her.
The resulting explosion silenced the screams. Jackie tottered and Jorge hooked his arm around her shoulder, steadying her.
“Congratulations,” Simon said. “You have killed seventeen level one participants, gaining four hundred and twenty-five experience points, with an additional eighteen minutes of survival, putting you at a cumulative total of six hundred and thirty-five. You’re exceeding even my expectations, and my view of you is already rather high.” There was a brief pause that sent chills down Jackie’s spine. “You must find a way to get to Level 2 of the Melee. Once you reach it, you will find that you can do things, incredible, otherworldly, and uncanny things that others would never be able to achieve. You are unique, Jackie.”
Jackie’s HUD blinked, flashing her new stats:
Species: Homo Sapiens (Leon, Jaqueline)
Chattel: 5.7 mm pistol; Roundworm Parasites
Health:8/10
Level:1
Class:Mage
Kills:24
Vital
s:BP – 123/80; T – 98.4; RR – 13bpm
XP:635
Jackie was flush with points, but she wondered if it was really worth the cost. She’d seen enough suicide victims burdened with guilt to know that victory wasn’t always a good thing.
Armando helped her and Jorge into a large SUV, which quickly drove off across the desert. Despite having escaped certain death, it was impossible for her not to feel regret for how she’d achieved it.
10
Upgrades
The SUV blasted down a dirt road, headlights out, carving through the inky blackness of the Mexican countryside. The rear of the SUV had been modified so that three people could be seated forward and facing two people who sat with their backs to the driver. Jackie was in the back next to Armando and Jorge. Two of Armando’s guards, men covered in spidery tattoos on every inch of exposed flesh, sat across from them on the other bench.
“My people have examined the information from the Noctem,” Armando said, staring out the window. “If true, over eight million people have already died.”
Jorge made the sign of the cross. Armando wagged a finger. “But in Mexico, the losses are much less, at least for the time being.”
“Why?” Jackie asked.
“Because this is a tough country, doctor,” he replied. “Anyone can live in America. Pardon me for saying that yours is a lovely country, but a soft one. You have to have a certain…mettle to live here. My people are no strangers to hardship.”
“Why did you help us back there?” Jorge asked.
Armando tapped Jorge on the forehead. “A caballo regalado, no se le ven los dientes.”
Armando looked to Jackie. “This means you don’t check the teeth of a gifted horse. Be thankful for the gift, don’t look for what might be wrong with it. Do you understand what that means, Jackie?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. Hopefully your friend understands it too.”
“Yes, sir, I do,” Jorge quickly said.
Jackie stiffened. There was a flash of pain in her right eye and a warm liquid rolled down her cheek. Armando reached out and grabbed the end of something protruding from her eye. It was the tail of a worm. Grimacing, Armando withdrew the worm from Jackie’s eye, which burned and blurred. Armando tossed the worm out an open window. “You need to heal yourself now,” he said.
“How?”
“Ask your voice.”
“Simon?” Jackie said via Mindspeak.
“Yes, Jackie. How may I be of assistance?”
“I need to heal myself.”
“You cannot completely heal yourself yet. As I related before, you have been infected by the Vermis Monstrum. A robust bacteria—”
“I know all of that,” Jackie snapped. “I meant, I need something to help me in the short term.”
A status message appeared on her SecondSight HUD, a collection of holographic images that floated in the air. There were magazines of ammunition, grenades, cutting instruments, battle helmets, a few pieces of ordinary body-armor, gloves, boots, what looked like a first-aid kit, and other items that could be obtained for minimal points.
Above these items were various other classes of weapons and gear that could only be obtained with many more points. Stuff like battle suits of all shapes and sizes, machine guns, rocket launchers, laser guns, jet packs, tanks, armored motorcycles, and all kinds of exotic weaponry. Additionally, there were icons for blocked-out items under the heading, ‘Ragetags.’
A box blinked over one of the first-aid kits. Jackie mentally selected it.
“Please confirm selection of Rejuv,” the prompt said.
She selected yes and the prompt noted that she was allocating twenty-five experience points to acquire the meds. Instantly, she felt a warm current flow over the entirety of her body. Her coughing stopped, as did the sensation of things crawling under her skin. Her HUD stats reflected the change:
Species: Homo Sapiens (Leon, Jaqueline)
Chattel: 5.7 mm pistol; Roundworm Parasites
Health:10/10
Level:1
Class:Mage
Kills:24
Vitals:BP – 121/80; T – 98.1; RR – 12bpm
XP:617
“Why are the parasites included as chattel?” Jackie asked via Mindspeak.
“Because, as you have seen, it is possible to weaponize them.”
“Will I start feeling them again?”
“Yes. Once you amass one thousand experience points it is possible to acquire a Rejuv that will completely heal you.”
Armando removed his hat and stared deeply into Jackie’s eyes. He took up her hand and felt her pulse.
“Better?”
She nodded. “Yeah, for the moment.”
“Good, because there is not much time. Soon we will go our separate ways and I need to prepare you for what is to come. Then, my debt to you will have been paid in full.”
“What’s to come?”
“You will see.”
The SUV ascended a mountain road before entering an immense compound perched on the lip of a huge apron of jagged rock. Jackie thought it looked like the lair of a villain from a superhero movie.
“So, what’s a person got to do to buy a place like this?” she asked.
Armando grinned. “I am a businessman.”
“Business must be good.”
“Muy Bueno,” Armando replied.
“May I ask another question?”
Armando chuckled. “I like you, Jackie. I really do. But there is a problem with asking too many questions. Do you know what it is?”
“No.”
“Sometimes you get answers.”
Everyone exited the SUV and Armando gestured for her and Jorge to follow him. They stood on the edge of the rock, which afforded a breathtaking view of the valley, and the cityscape that was barely visible, dozens of miles in the distance. The horizon glowed with a lurid, orange and reddish light.
“The world burns,” Armando intoned. “The world burns and the aliens laugh.”
“There is nothing that can be done,” Jorge said.
“Not true,” Armando replied. “We can prepare, arm ourselves, and fight.”
He turned and whistled to his men, who powered up a series of spotlights that illuminated a metal dome, a bunker at the base of the compound’s main building, a home that was made of stone, metal, and wood.
The guards opened the doors on the dome to reveal stacks of weapons, ammunition, equipment, and other goods—enough for a long siege if anyone tried attacking the compound. Armando led them inside and stretched out his hands.
“All that I have is yours,” he said. “Take as much as you can.”
Jackie began perusing the racks of assault rifles, pistols, shotguns, even a grenade launcher or two. Information appeared on her HUD concerning each weapon. She couldn’t make up her mind what would suit her best.
“Do we have time before I decide?” she asked. “There’s so much, and we’re not even sure what we’ll be facing.”
“We’ve only got four hours left,” Jorge said, holding up a cylindrical grenade launcher. “Four hours to reach the wall. I worry we may not have enough time.”
“What if I showed you a shortcut?” Armando asked, with such confidence that it felt more like a statement than a question.
Jackie looked over. “You know one?”
Armando nodded. “I have maps and directions. The shortest distance between two points, between here and the wall, is a straight line.”
“Where is that line, senor?” Jorge asked.
Armando pointed up. “In the sky.”
They moved into the heart of the compound’s main house, what Armando referred to as his hacienda. The great room was circular, centered by a huge stone fireplace that was blazing away, and the walls were constructed entirely of thick glass that Jackie reckoned was probably impervious to small-arms fire. Several women and at least a dozen heavily armed men milled around in the background, moving between rooms, never botherin
g to look over. A middle-aged woman conversed with Armando and then exited only to return a few moments later with food: meat marinated in spices and wine, pickled vegetables, and cakes made from cornmeal. Jackie devoured the food.
Armando then motioned to an older gentleman with white hair, who approached holding an electronic device in the shape of a U. Jackie had never seen one before, and marveled not only at its shape, but its iridescent color and lack of exterior markings.
“One of my men bought this with his experience points,” Armando said. “It’s a wonderful device.”
“What does it do?” Jorge asked.
The man with white hair ran his finger down the side of the device and it hummed to life, giving off an emerald light. The light coalesced into a spiral beam that shot into the air to create incredibly detailed, three-dimensional images of the surrounding countryside and something else.
First came an image of the wall, black as pitch and impressive in size. Other structures were visible, including the black spire that Jackie had seen back in Mexico City. Armando circled his finger and a final structure became visible, a huge, sweeping construct made of translucent, interlocking horizontal and vertical towers. It reminded Jackie of a massive hashtag symbol that floated above the world. On the edges of the strange building were wing-shaped towers that jutted out at odd angles.
“What is that?” Jackie asked.
“I have asked and have not been given its name,” Armando said. “But three of my men ventured into it. One returned.”
“What did he say?” Jorge asked.
Armando made the sign of the cross. “Before he went on to his reward, he said that it is the key to everything.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a shortcut to level two, a way to bypass level one entirely.”
“If it’s a detour, why isn’t everyone using it?” Jackie asked.
“Because there are levels and regions within it,” Armando said. “And there are things on each level and within each region. Terrible things.”
“Monsters?” Jorge asked.
“Yes, that,” Armando said. “And traps, and mirages, and deceptive things designed to lead the unwary astray.”
