“That felt good. I didn’t expect this game to be so hard!”
“Me either,” I admitted. “That was one hell of a tutorial quest.”
“So I guess yours was different than mine?” Paul said. “You’re a human?”
“Yeah, man, but I escaped from the bandits and leveled up.”
“Oh, me too!” Paul said. “The box just popped up when I finished the quest. It says, ‘Choose your class: Bruiser, Botanic, Irradiated, Mindslayer, Shapeshifter.’”
“Those are totally different classes than what I got!”
“I guess because I’m a mutant. I think I’m going to go with Mindslayer. That sounds cool as hell.”
“I don’t know what I’m going to pick,” I said. “Assassin or Techie sounds cool.”
“Yeah man,” Paul said. “I wish we could make multiple characters. I want to play all of them.”
“You’d have to get your hands on another Metaticket somehow.”
“Those things are selling for like $500 online now! Can you believe that?”
“It’s crazy,” I said.
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. That never used to happen, back when I lived down the street from him and we could hang out in person. Phone conversations just weren’t the same.
“I guess there’s no chat in this game,” Paul said. “At least I can’t figure out how to open it.”
“Yeah I couldn’t find anything like that. Maybe you have to be close to somebody before you can talk to them?”
“So we need to meet up,” Paul said. “Do you have any idea where you are?”
“I don’t know, man,” I said. “I’m on a highway in the middle of nowhere. Haven’t seen any signs.”
“There’s not a map or something in this game?”
“I didn’t see one. Maybe you have to unlock it?”
“Guess we’re just going solo for now then,” Paul said. “Let me know if you figure anything out.”
“Alright,” I said. “I plan on playing most of the day.”
“Me too, dude. The game is awesome so far.”
“Yeah, I don’t even know how they made some of this stuff. The graphics and AI are incredible.”
“Yeah,” Paul said. “It’s really cool.”
That silence crept in again. Time to go.
“Alright man,” I said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Cool, see ya.”
We both hung up quickly. I had to admit I was disappointed. I wished we were playing together. We had been best friends since middle-school, and he was the only person I’d ever met that was as good at video games as I was. I mean, we played through Contra on 2-player, without the Konami code.
It wasn’t cool to say that I missed him, but I did.
I took a drink of my grape Slice and then turned back to the monitor. Time to choose a class.
Level 2
Perry
1
You have chosen Techie as your class.
Choosing a class gives you a permanent upgrade to several statistics, as well as access to specific class powers when you attain 4th level.
+1 Dexterity, +1 Intelligence
+2 Driving, +2 Hacking
Boothe nudged Pug’s body with his foot, rolling it over. The small man’s head had shattered on the pavement upon impact, spilling red chunks onto the road. As unappealing as the idea sounded, Boothe thought that he should look through the man’s pockets for any useful supplies. He found a wad of money, and a holster and cartridge belt with several .38 rounds still tucked inside.
ITEMS OBTAINED
Holster (Snub-nosed .38) – Misc. Equipment
Durability 60% - Value $3
When worn on your belt, this holster allows you to carry your pistol as a sidearm into battle.
Cartridge Belt - Waist Slot
Durability 40% - Value $4
Item Slots: 4
Ammo Capacity: 25
A belt that can both keep your pants up, and allow you to carry extra cartridges into battle. Holds 25 cartridges of .38 caliber.
Gained 15 Ammunition (.38)
Gained $28
Boothe looped the belt through the holster and around his waist. He loaded the revolver with ammunition and slid it into place, then tucked the money into his pocket. He wished he could have found some usable armor on the man, but Boothe was much too tall to fit into anything that Pug wore. Scraping along the highway had made most of the clothing useless anyway. Still, Boothe would have to find some way to replace the rags he was wearing very soon.
As he rose to his feet, a blinking green light caught his attention. On the side of Pug’s goggles, an LED flashed.
He reached down and grabbed the goggles, pulling them off with a snap. Seeing the man’s eyes for the first time, Boothe jumped back, momentarily startled. The right eye was wide open and seemed to be staring at him. Bloodshot red, the eyelid had been cut off. Pug’s left eye was a pulpy tumorous mass, still oozing yellow pus and blood. It stank of infection and rot.
Boothe backed away from the man, both to avoid the horrifying sight, and to escape the awful stench. As soon as he stepped away, vultures descended on the corpse. Three of them with wingspans wider than Boothe was tall, ripped into the meat with hooked beaks. Bones cracked and tendons tore. Black feathers blocked out the bloody mess that remained of Pug’s body. Boothe ran away from the horrible feast, continuing down the road he had been traveling, looking back often to make sure the birds were not following him.
Only when the vultures were out of sight did he slow down and examine the goggles in his hand. Even though they were covered in the dead man’s blood, Boothe could tell that they were some kind of advanced technology. There were four buttons on the right side and the lenses themselves looked like no glass that he had ever seen.
Boothe used the bottom of his shirt to wipe the goggles out as best he could. His clothes were already filthy, what was a little more blood? He’d wash up if he ever found a place with water.
When he was satisfied that the goggles were clean enough, he slipped them over his head, pulling them tight against his eyes.
ITEM OBTAINED
Recon Goggles - Face Slot
Durability 70% - Value $500
These goggles have many uses, from mapping technology to enemy tracking. Buttons on the side control Night-Vision, Thermal-Vision, and magnification.
With the goggles on, a compass appeared at the top of Boothe’s vision. As he turned his head, the compass slid from the left to the right and back again, showing which direction he was facing at all times. He could tell now that he had been walking north. In that direction, an arrow seemed to hover in the distance, pointing to a place just over the horizon. A label above it read “Perry (2.1 mi.)”.
“Who’s Perry?” Boothe asked nobody.
He reached up to try the buttons on the side of the goggles. The first nearly blinded him, as it turned the entire world a bright white. That would be the Night-Vision. The second changed the landscape into a colorful mixture of reds and yellows - Thermal-Vision. Finally, the last two allowed him to zoom in and out, magnifying his sight as if he were looking through binoculars.
These goggles were going to prove very useful. He may never take them off.
He continued walking north, towards Perry - whoever that was. The sun had risen to its peak in the sky and was now beginning its descent to his left. As he walked, the number next to the word “Perry” in his vision slowly rolled down from 2.1 miles to 1.5, and then finally to 0.5.
He saw Perry then. The name was written on a water tower rising from a collection of squat buildings and houses built around a central street east of the highway. Perry wasn’t a person at all, but a place.
A small gas station sat on the corner of the highway and the road that led to the town. Boothe knelt down and pressed the magnification button on his goggles, zooming in to take a closer look at the place. There were no cars at the gas station. No people either. Instead, the
goggles highlighted two large automated turrets mounted on top of the structure’s roof, one pointing north and the other south. Both had large-caliber miniguns rotating slowly, ready to fire. On the ground in front of the two gas pumps stood a huge robot. Humanoid in shape and at least two feet taller than Booth, the thing was all black steel and shining chrome, with exposed pneumatics and circuitry. Instead of arms, it had two machine guns mounted at its sides and a bandolier of ammunition looped around its back.
A sign nearby read Good Gas, Friendly Service!
With nowhere else to go, Boothe headed toward the gas station, hoping that the advertisement was true.
2
“Hello?” Boothe called, his voice dry and raspy. His hands held high, he walked towards the gas station. “Don’t shoot me please.”
With an audible whir of gears and servos, both the roof-mounted turrets and the machinegun-wielding robot spun towards him.
He ducked and prepared to run for cover, wondering why he had made this awful decision.
“Hello, [HUMAN],” the robot responded in a loud mechanical monotone. “Welcome to [CADEN’S OUTPOST], how can I help you today?”
Below camera lenses that served as the robot’s eyes, a series of green LEDs lit up, forming the upward-curving arc of a smile. Boothe’s goggles highlighted the robot in a translucent green halo, labeling it as friendly. That would have been helpful a few moments earlier, when his heart had been beating out of his chest.
Boothe walked towards the robot cautiously. “I’m new here,” he said. “Do you sell water or supplies?”
The robot stood silent for a moment, processing Boothe's question. “In the [STATION],” it said, pointing a machinegun arm towards the building. “We have [CLEAN WATER], some [REPLACEMENT CAR PARTS], and a large supply of [JERKY]. Make your way inside, [HUMAN], if you wish to purchase any of these things.”
“Thank you,” Boothe said.
“No [HUMAN]. Thank you.” With another whir of pneumatic pistons, the robot turned and set itself into place. It pulled its machineguns up, aiming out into the wasteland, on guard once again for any threats.
Boothe walked over to the station building. The windows there were covered in faded advertisements for sodas and chips that he had never heard of. A sign on the door read WE’RE OPEN in large print, while in smaller hand-written letters below, it said, -unless I don’t feel like it.
He pushed the door inward. A jingling bell that hung above the doorway announced his presence. Inside, narrow aisles cut between cluttered shelves filled with supplies, all lit by flickering florescent ceiling lights.
“No public bathrooms!” a grumpy voice muttered. “Otherwise, get what you want and leave your money in the box. Don’t try to cheat me - the robot will know.”
The voice came from a man who leaned back in a folding chair, a straw hat covering his face, and a single leg propped up on an overturned bucket. His other leg had been amputated just above the knee.
“I’m just looking for some water,” Boothe said.
The man only moved his finger, pointing towards a large metal keg sitting on a shelf nearby. A sign above read Water - $4 per gallon.
“Do you have bottles, or cups?” Boothe asked. “Anything for me to hold the water in?”
“Where’s your water skin, son?” the man said, finally lifting his hat to take a peek at Boothe. Now, with his face revealed, he looked to be at least seventy, with leathery wrinkled skin and a thick white beard over gaunt cheeks. His hair was matted and thin, with liver spots on his scalp visible through the strands.
“I don’t have one,” Boothe said.
“You new to the wasteland?”
“I guess so. I just escaped a couple of bandits south of here.”
“Damn bandits!” the old man said, sitting up and gripping his hat in his hand. “They’ve been worse lately. Attacking everything from Austin to Wichita. Killed a lot of good people too!” He spat a large wad of brown saliva onto the floor. “My name’s Caden, by the way.”
“I’m Boothe.”
“There’s water skins on the shelf over there. Five dollars, and you can even fill it for free the first time.”
“Deal,” Boothe said. The water skins were leathery bags that looked like they might have been made from some animal’s stomach. Boothe grabbed one from the shelf and filled it with clear water from the keg, then took five dollars from his pocket and put it into a tin box on the counter labeled MONEY.
A plastic container next to the money box contained strips of brown meat simply labeled Jerky – 2/$1. Boothe was afraid to ask what animal the meat had come from. Then, his eyes were drawn to a workbench behind where Caden sat. Machine parts and computer components covered the surface - circuit boards, gears, small engines, and a variety of tools.
Noticing Boothe staring, Caden asked “You interested in machines?”
“A bit,” Boothe said.
“You have a drone, yet?”
“No. What’s that?”
Caden reached into a box below the workbench and pulled out a small robot. He put it on the counter in front of Boothe and with the flick of a switch, lights along the side of it activated and the thing rose into the air a few inches above the counter’s surface. It had a camera on the front, a small satellite dish on the top, and a propulsion system below which hummed softly, keeping it aloft. Two short robotic arms extended from the sides, each ending with a tiny pincer-like claw.
“This little baby,” Caden said. “Can do a lot of things for you. You can fly it around to get a better view of the battlefield, or you can use it to hack computers and activate mechanisms from a distance. With a few upgrades, it could be used to attack enemies or heal allies as well.”
“How much is it?” Boothe asked.
Caden sighed. “Tell you what. Since you’re new around here, I’ll help you out. If you do me a favor, I’ll give him to you for free.”
“What kind of favor?”
“There’s supposed to be a package in town waiting for me. It’s a little hard for me to get over there right now though.” He nodded down to his amputated leg. “If you go pick up my package, then bring it here, I’ll give you the drone.”
NEW QUEST: A Helping Hand (or Leg)
Caden has asked you to retrieve a package from Perry, and deliver it to him.
REWARD: Basic Drone
DO YOU ACCEPT?
“Sure,” Boothe said. “I can do that.”
“Great!” Caden handed Boothe an envelope. “Just give this to Wulfa. She’s a merchant in town, usually hawking wares at a table on Main street. She’ll give you the package.”
“I’ll head that way now then,” Boothe said. “Thanks for the help.”
“You’re welcome, son,” Caden said with a smile. “Hurry back.”
Boothe walked out of the gas station, the bell jingling once again as he exited the building, and turned east towards town.
“Thank you for your business [HUMAN],” the robotic sentry called from behind him. “Please come again.”
3
Boothe spotted Wulfa as soon as he walked into Perry. She was the only person on the street, standing behind a wooden stall covered with supplies. She was tall and thin, covered head to toe in loose clothing. Her shirt and pants were white cotton bound by a cord around her waist, and a white scarf was wrapped around her head and face, obscuring her features. The combination of the clothing, her wisp-like build, and the eerily empty street behind her, made her look like a ghost from a distance.
“New blood!” she called as Boothe walked into town. “You lookin’ for a deal, new blood?”
Boothe walked up to her stall and handed her the envelope that Caden had given him. “You’re Wulfa? I’m supposed to pick up a package,” he said.
“Ah yes,” Wulfa replied in a deep, raspy voice. She reached down below the counter and came back up with a large box in her hands. “You can take it now, or I can hold it for you ’til you’re ready to leave town. Maybe you want
to have a look around first, huh?”
Boothe glanced at the empty streets and dark, crumbling structures pieced together from the remains of the former town. What was there to even see here?
“There’s not much,” Wulfa said, as if reading his mind. “But you might check out The Depot. That’s where most folks gather. You could browse through my own wares as well, of course. You look like you could use some new clothes - getting a bit ragged there.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Boothe said. “What do you have that I can buy for $20?”
“Ah, new blood…” she sighed wistfully. “You should never tell a merchant how much money you have. I’ll be nice though, since you’re obviously a bit soft upstairs. For your twenty dollars, I’ll put together a small Starter Package for you.”
She picked up a black cotton shirt and a pair of blue jeans from the table. “An outfit, to replace your rags.” She placed a hunting knife on top of the clothing. “A new weapon to help you survive the monsters that roam the wasteland.” She placed two small tin boxes next to the pile. “Medical kit to patch yourself up, and an extra for when those monsters undoubtedly put some more holes in you. And lastly, a little bonus from Wulfa - don’t blow yourself up.” She placed a hand grenade next to the collection.
“For twenty bucks, it’s a bargain,” she said. “I suggest you take it.”
“Deal,” Boothe said, and took Pug’s money from his pocket to pay for the equipment. That left him with only three dollars. He needed to find a way to make some more money, fast.
“Enjoy,” Wulfa said, sliding the equipment towards him.
ITEM OBTAINED
Basic Outfit - Clothing slot
Durability 100% - Value $10
Max HP +1
These clothes won’t stop a blade or a bullet, but they’ll cover your skin and offer you some small protection from the harsh environment of the wasteland.
Apocalypse 2020: A Wasteland LitRPG Page 2
