Fragged

by Zachariah Dracoulis

My trigger locked back.

  Ammo depleted

  “Shit!” I yelped as I switched back to my shield right as Gren hit me, pushing me back through the dirt, my feet struggling to grip the loose earth.

  I laughed a little as he drove his fist into the shield, the flimsy-looking metal absorbing every last bit of the force.

  The others were still shooting him, but he was clearly far more interested in getting what he couldn’t have. I actually remember briefly thinking about how human that made him before one of his mighty swings sent a decent-sized crack up through my shield, wiping away the little smile I’d gained from my confidence in the shield.

  “Okay, guys,” I said nervously as I tried to hold it together against Gren’s continued smashing, “it’d be great if you could put him down now…”

  “We’re trying!” Chad growled, “Fucker’s a damn bullet sponge!”

  Unsurprisingly, I was starting to panic, but I wasn’t about to go down without a fight either.

  I waited until Gren’s fist pounded the shield and used the two second delay before the next one to roll backward, switch to my lever action, and take aim.

  The lumbering Alpha was riddled with bullet holes, his skin had become stained with his blood, and he looked about fifteen times angrier than when I’d last seen him.

  My finger squeezed the trigger almost automatically when the bastard made a move for me, the bullet hitting him in the chest with enough force to stop him in his tracks while I slammed the lever down and up with a flick of my wrist.

  Blood sprayed over the back of his head as the others fired another volley into his back, sending him stumbling toward me right as I pulled the trigger, catching him right between the eyes and blasting a baseball-sized hole out the back of his head.

  Great job, you just robbed some poor clan of their leader. You do realise that they could’ve grown to be just as human as you, right? I suppose that’s not saying much though.

  +1 Firearm Skill

  Firearm Skill: 10/100

  Looks like you’re getting pretty proficient with firearms, been having fun killing poor, defenceless creatures from a distance have you? Anyway, you now know enough about guns to reload most of them with a great deal more speed, as well as utilising some as single-handed weapons.

  Level Progression: 140/150

  Gren fell to his knees, blood still spouting out of him like water balloon that’d been attacked with a needle, while I pushed down and pulled up the lever on my rifle without having to hold it with my other hand.

  “I reckon I should saw the butt and barrel off when we get home, make this thing a bit more versatile. What do you guys think?”

  “I think you need to get the fuck over here and help us bolster this fucking wall!” Chad roared from where he and the others had formed a shield wall.

  I pulled out my shield, smiling at the fact that I was allowed to keep my rifle in hand, and ran over to join my clan, sliding on my knees toward them before locking my shield down in between Pete and Paul’s.

  The Rabids started their charge and I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I rested my rifle atop my shield and aimed at the nearest of the barbaric men.

  “Hey, guys!” I shouted with a smile over the roars of the Rabids, “You know what this means?”

  “That you’re a fuckin’ idiot that’s gonna get us all killed!?” Chad barked back.

  “Exactly!” I laughed, “And it’s gonna be so much fun! Take ten alive, fuck the rest!”

  “Do you really think there’s enough time?” Pete joked.

  “Honey,” Miles said, anxiously twisting his club as the Rabids got within ten feet of us, “for you, we’ve probably got too much time.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Well, that was fun while it lasted,” Miles said as he clubbed one of the semi-conscious Rabids over the head, “wish it’d gone a bit longer though.”

  “Said every one of your ex-lovers.” Pete replied under his breath.

  It was true, the fight was over quicker than I’d expected, lasting no more than twenty seconds as the lower level Rabids had failed to put even a dent in any of our shields, including my compromised one, before we’d put them down.

  “How’s that raft coming along?” I asked Paul, who was crafting in front of the cave, before Pete and Miles could chuck another shit-fit.

  “It’s comin’, it’s comin’…” Paul droned in response, “Still don’t know why I have to do this.”

  “I’ve explained it a dozen times, it’s gonna make it a lot easier to move all these Rabids if we can just load ‘em onto a raft and drag that back home.”

  “Yeah, I get that. I wanna know why I have to do it.”

  “Because the rest of us have more important shit to do.” Chad said as he came out of the forest, “No Metois anywhere nearby.”

  I nodded in thanks and smiled at him, “How do you think it went?”

  “The shield thing?” Chad asked as he looked around at the bodies, then shrugged, “Yeah, I reckon it went pretty well. Still don’t know how it’ll hold up against a Metois squad though.”

  “Hey, if it’s anything like this then I’m completely confident that we’re gonna be able to win this thing.” Pete said, shooting me a smile as he did, “Zo seems to know what she’s doing, and I trust her judgement.”

  “Raft’s finished.” Paul chimed in before I could thank Pete for his vote of confidence.

  I looked over at the loosely bound bits of wood with pride, “Alright then, let’s load these guys up and get back to Home Base. Zoey’s Fighters,” I said, pausing for dramatic effect because why not, “let’s go to war.”

  FRAGGED 6

  Chapter One

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  After a great deal of deliberation, and no small amount of convincing myself the job was too hard, I decided that I’d leave the task of domesticating the nine, presently unconscious Rabids to the Js and the girls.

  “You reckon we’re ready to get out there huntin’ for the Metois?” Pete asked as I emerged from the cabin with a fresh shield.

  “Definitely,” I replied confidently, looking over my battle-ready clan, “I’m done sitting around waiting for the Metois to find us. It’s time for us to take the fight to them.”

  “As long as you’re the one saying it, I’m sure it’s a good idea.” Pete said more apprehensively than I would’ve liked, “Keep in mind that this still has to be a guerrilla op though. No sense in letting them know we’re comin’ until we’re on top of them.”

  I didn’t like being told to remember stuff that I’d brought up on our trek back home, but at the same time I understood that Pete had a whole lot more riding on the fight than most of us did.

  “Don’t worry yourself ‘Duke’,” Chad chimed a tad too mockingly before clutching his fancy rifle to his new chest plate, “we’ve got enough ammo to go round-for-round with whoever’s in the forest.”

  I’m happy to say that my optimism was clearly contagious with everyone but Pete, though I must say I wished that everyone had been at least a little more forward-thinking.

  Years of media consumption had taught me that the pessimist was right most of the time, and I’d always looked at the chipper twats as a pack of morons.

  However I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were going to continue on the up-and-up for Zoey’s Fighters, especially following our long bout of bad luck, and with my newfou-

  “You alright there?” Paul asked concernedly, snapping me back to reality.

  I struggled to think for a few moments, my brain lagging in sending its signals to my mouth as I stood there with my mouth open in a fly-catching gape, “Huh?”

  Looking back, maybe I wasn’t the person that should’ve been in charge. Zoey’s Fighters probably could’ve used someone with more-

  “Hello?”

  “Sorry!” I shouted, my brain finally starting to make the li
ttle connections necessary for me to not constantly drift off into absent thought.

  I’m not sure why it was that I kept losing track of my thoughts, it was like there was something that I was trying to remember that was somehow affecting everything else in-

  “So…” Miles trailed off, “we’re gonna die today, aren’t we?”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, not realising that I’d spaced out again.

  “Because you- with the- ugh… Let’s just get going.”

  I wanted to say something about me being the leader, and that I was the only one allowed to give orders in our little group, but I quickly decided that it was in my best interests to stop-

  “Okay, yeah, I see what I’m doing now.” I said with a nod while biting my upper lip, “Onward.”

  And with that we started our hard trek out into the forest, my clouded mind struggling to stay on course as I did a quick scroll through my inventory while staying at the rear of the pack.

  “Any particular direction?” Pete called from the front.

  “We’re followin’ the rex’s path.” I replied, “I figure the Metois’ll be smart enough to avoid him, meanin’ we’ll be able to spot them without walking right into ‘em.”

  That was the plan anyway, stick to a pre-determined path that didn’t require me to make any tough decisions about which way to go.

  Again, maybe I shouldn’t have been the one in charge of the clan, but I successfully rationalised that one of the biggest parts of being a leader was the ability to allocate tasks better suited to others.

  Yeah, I kind of felt like the worst manager in the world after thinking that, but I was also struggling with what Zoey’s Fighters were becoming.

  Our numbers included an ex-Metois member, a stupidly well-armed former rogue entity, and three people who, in the past, had struggled to stay friendly with each other despite years of friendship.

  Oh yeah, and we were about to go to war with one of the biggest clans in Thren.

  “You guys feeling pumped?” I called out in the hopes of receiving a resounding, Spartan-like ‘Ahoo! Ahoo! Ahoo!’

  Instead all I got were a few shrugs and Paul muttering about something to do with us all dying.

  “Your pessimism is widely appreciated.” I grumbled back as I did my best and failed to not get catty.

  What? My default mode is bitchy, you can’t rightly blame me for being me, can you?

  “I really need to get out of my head…” I accidentally mumbled.

  “What was that?” Chad asked as he joined me at the back of the group.

  “Nothing.”

  “Well that’s a load of bullshit, isn’t it?”

  I rolled my eyes exaggeratedly and smiled, “This is gonna to be a long trek if you insist on trying to pull feelings out of me.”

  “Pull ‘em out of you?” Chad chuckled, “You’re already putting your feelings out there, as you always do, you’re just not givin’ any reason for them.”

  “Do I have to?” I asked with all the maturity of a toddler.

  “If you want us to get through this alive, then yeah, little bit.”

  He was-

  “You’re right.” I blurted out before I could get stuck in another one of my mental conversations, “I just… I don’t know what it is, but ever since the Rabids I’ve felt kinda…”

  “Insular?”

  “Exactly. My brain just keeps going off-track and forcing me into these moments where I zone out.”

  “Like some part of you just wants to get away from the fact that you’re actually expected to lead now?” Chad suggested with what, to my complete surprise, sounded like genuine concern for me, “Look, I know we haven’t been the easiest group to lead, and this is the toughest thing we’ve had to do so far, but you’ve just gotta make sure you know within yourself that this is the same as everything else we’ve done.”

  “Is it though?” I asked meekly, “I mean, look at what we’re doin’ man. Would anyone from the old crew try anything like this?”

  Chad thought on that for a few seconds, then shrugged and shook his head, “No, probably not, but they also all died in a compound that they seemed to want to keep forever at midrange at best. The old leaders had no interest in expanding or doing any more than what we were already doing.”

  “But how long did we survive in that clan?”

  “We survived a good long while I’ll give you that.” Chad responded, pausing as if it were the only thing he was going to say, giving me just enough time to lose hope before he pressed on, “However, I’ll add that we weren’t really living. I know that sounds tacky as shit, but the fact of the matter is that right now we’re about to go do some stupidly crazy shit so we build a stupidly huge base so we can run a stupidly massive empire.”

  I was happy to have his vote of confidence in my abilities as a leader, I didn’t fully understand where that new side of him was coming from, but I appreciated it.

  “Hey, Zo!?” Pete shouted, pulling my attention away from Chad before I could properly thank him for helping me get through my weird mental block, “I think you’re gonna wanna come see this…”

  “What. The. Shit…” I muttered as I reached the front of the pack and saw the dizzying display of carnage laid out in front of us, “What happened here?”

  “I’d say that our friend the t-rex found one of the Metois groups before we did,” Pete replied as he too struggled to take in the full scope of what was strewn around us, “made a bloody big mess of ‘em too.”

  “Why didn’t we get any notifications?” I asked concernedly as I started to fear that we’d lost communication with the game notifications.

  “We did,” Pete clarified, “I scrolled through the chat log and the death alerts are all there. Looks like it must’ve happened around the time we got into that fight with the Rabids.”

  “You reckon any of the gear’s salvageable?” Miles asked, joining the rest of the group as they formed a line to look on at what we’d stumbled upon.

  Pete shook his head, “I highly doubt it. Looks like most of these bodies were trampled, and the rest are mostly eaten. We could have a rummage if you want boss, but I think the sooner we press on, the better.”

  I totally agreed with him, but at the same time I felt like we were in a sticky situation.

  What were we supposed to do going forward? Head back and assume that we’d more or less ‘won’?

  No, it was just one team, there had to be others out there, and we’d find them if it was the last thing we did.

  “Hey guys…” Paul whispered, “Do you… hear something?”

  We didn’t have time to try and source the sound of rustling that Paul had brought to our attention, they’d already come out of the trees with the guns levelled with our line.

  “Put down the shields,” one of the Metois soldiers ordered, “and get your sorry hands u-”

  “Shield wall!”

  Chapter Two

  I’m not sure who gave the order, it may very well have been a panic response from me, but I did know that I was bloody grateful for it as Metois rounds started whistling toward us.

  “How’re your shields holding!?” I called out over the gunfire.

  “Strong on my end!” Paul shouted back.

  “Mine too!” Pete and Miles grunted in unison.

  The Metois were moving in closer, I could just make out their bodies between the gaps in our shields, and that’s when I realised we didn’t have a gunman.

  “Mine’ll be matchsticks in a few more seconds!” Chad yelped as a bullet whizzed by dangerously close to his face, giving me my shooter.

  “Alright then, you’re on offensive duty! Get that rifle of yours and lay down some fire!”

  He didn’t need to be told twice, and before long we’d formed a wall around him and let him get to work with dispatching the decent sized squad of Metois soldiers that had us surrounded.

  Birdie77 has been slain (World).

  “Good work!” Pete laughed as Chad d
ropped down and reloaded, “You reckon you have enough clips to get the rest?”

  “Fuck you,” Chad grumbled, “they’re really good at taking cover.”

  “You have a fire-and-forget machine gun! How are you having trouble hitting people?”

  “There’s a bunch of trees getting in the way.” Chad snapped before popping back up and firing in quick, three-round bursts.

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  “How’s that?” Chad asked snippily before reloading again, “Or am I still not performing to ‘the Duke’s standards?”

  “Nah, you’re doin’ pretty good, ‘cept for the fact that my shield’s got maybe twenty percent left.”

  “Same here.” I interjected coldly, the pissing contest that Chad was imagining having started to piss me off, “How many are left?”

  “I don’t know, three, four? Hold on.”

  Our gunman shot up and spun in a circle while firing with a continuous spray of bullets until the clip clicked empty.

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  “Three.” Chad said proudly, “There were three left.”

  “Well no need to be a pompous dick about it,” I snapped as we rose to our feet, cautiously looking around and waiting to see if Chad had lied, “good work though. How you doin’ for ammo?”

  “I’ve still got a few clips, but I wouldn’t mind gettin’ some mor-”

  “Say again, you found ‘em Cobra One?” a crackly voice asked through a walkie from behind one of the trees, “Cobra One? Do you require support?”

  We all waited, anxiously praying that the walkie had been dropped by one of the dozens of dead Metois.

  “Affirmative.” a frightened voice finally responded before peeking around the tree and sending a whole lotta lead our way.

  Without saying a word, we reformed the shield wall, but not before Paul caught a bullet in the leg.