Lucas pulled the Mustang around onto the highway, and sat there, waiting for Boothe and Scarlett to join him.
“A douchebag,” Caden agreed, walking up behind them, “and an idiot.”
“I can’t disagree,” Boothe said. “Still. One hundred dollars is a lot of money.”
“You can beat him,” Caden said. “Not in a straight race. His car is much faster than yours. But you’re smarter. You’ll figure it out.” He patted each of them on the shoulder and said, “Be careful,” before heading back into the building.
Scarlett handed Boothe the key to the Falcon.
“You want me to drive?” he asked.
“I saw the way you drove last night. You’re better than I am. I probably shouldn’t have gotten us into this, but I’m sure you can handle it.”
“Okay,” Boothe said. “I’ll try.”
They got into the car and Boothe pulled over next to where Lucas sat in his Mustang.
“I’ll give you a one-minute head-start,” Lucas said. “Since you’re driving such a POS. Consider it a handicap.”
“No need,” Scarlett said. “We’ll beat you straight.”
Boothe sighed again. She turned to him and shrugged apologetically.
Lucas just laughed. “On the count of three then.”
As he counted down, Boothe glanced over at the camera feed from his drone. The robot floated just over the right side of the car, camera aimed directly at Lucas’ dashboard.
“Zoom in,” Boothe instructed, quietly.
“What?” Scarlett asked, but he ignored her.
The drone’s camera zoomed in, so that Boothe could read the Mustang’s instrument panel.
Boothe smiled. They had already won – this wasn’t even going to be a race.
“Return,” he said and the drone flew back down and landed in the back seat of the car.
“…One…” Lucas continued counting. “GO!”
4
Lucas slammed down on the accelerator and his Mustang launched forward, picking up speed quickly and zooming off into the distance.
Boothe, on the other hand, steadily pressed on the gas, slowly bringing The Falcon up to cruising speed.
“What the hell are you doing?” Scarlett asked. “He’s getting way ahead! You need to gun it!”
“We’re fine,” Boothe said. “He’s an idiot.”
“I know! That’s why we have to beat him!”
“We will.”
Boothe took the car up to sixty-five miles per hour and kept it steady there.
“So you’re not even going to try to catch up to him?” Scarlett asked.
“I got a good look at his dashboard back there,” Boothe said. “He didn’t fill up at the station. He’s barely got an eighth of a tank. That car probably has about a sixteen-gallon tank, so roughly two gallons in it at the most.”
“He’s going to run out of gas,” Scarlett said, finishing Boothe’s train of thought.
“Right. Twenty-five miles to New Wichita. At his speed, he’s getting maybe 8 miles per gallon. He runs out before he gets twenty miles down the road.”
“What if he slows down when he gets ahead of us?” Scarlett asked. “Conserves gas.”
“You really think he’s going to do that?” Boothe asked. “I get the feeling that he’s the type of guy who is going to try to get there as fast as possible, to beat us by as much as possible.”
“Yeah,” Scarlett said. “Me too.”
“Besides, if we lose, it’s only a hundred bucks.”
Scarlett leaned back in the passenger seat, propping her feet up on the dash, ankles crossed.
“Do you have a hundred bucks?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he said. “It’s not polite to ask friends about their finances.”
“You had like three dollars yesterday,” Scarlett said. “What did you do before I logged on today?”
“I went on a quest for Cliff back in Perry. Killed some huge mutant termites.”
“Gross,” Scarlett said.
“Yeah, but Cliff paid me well, and I found a dead player down there and took his stuff.”
“A dead player?” Scarlett said. “They leave all their stuff when they die?”
“Yeah, he’s the second one I’ve found.”
“That’s pretty messed up, right? Like, if I died, I wouldn’t be able to play anymore and any other player could just take all my stuff.”
“I guess,” Boothe said. “Just don’t die.”
They grew silent after this, the only sound coming from the steady hum of the engine and the tires rolling along the road. The highway was clear and the cement still mostly intact. There were places that had cracked, allowing weeds to grow through the asphalt, but the drive was easy and they cruised along at a steady pace.
Boothe thought about the idea of him or Scarlett dying. If either one of them did, he would never even know who Scarlett was in real life. They might never be able to talk again. The idea was difficult to deal with. What if he had died against the mutmites that morning? She wouldn’t have known. She would have thought that he just hadn’t logged in to play that day. Unless the Friends list did something to notify you about a player’s death. There was still so much about this game that he didn’t understand.
He thought about asking for her phone number, so that they could at least contact each other, if something were to happen. That would be weird though right? Asking for a girl’s phone number in an online game?
“So what did you do today?” Scarlett asked.
“Just the mutmite quest,” Boothe said.
“No, I mean in real life?”
“Real life?” Boothe said.
“Well yeah,” Scarlett said. “This is going to take like twenty minutes - we can’t just talk about the game the whole time. Who is Boothe in real life?”
“Just a guy,” Boothe said. “I went to school today. I’m a senior in high school. What about you?”
This felt weird. He didn’t like talking about his real life. He just wanted to be Boothe here, not Bran. Still, he would like to know more about Scarlett.
“I graduated high school last year. I’m in college now. I had two classes today, then went to work afterwards. I had to stay longer than I expected, which is why I was late getting online.”
“What kind of job do you have?” Boothe asked.
“I work in an office,” Scarlett said. “Answering phones and filing paperwork.”
“You’re a secretary?” Boothe asked. He had a hard time picturing the battle-crazed woman he had seen blowing the heads off bandits the night before as a secretary in an office. He knew that the person who played Scarlett would not be the same, but it was difficult for him to picture anybody except her avatar.
“Administrative assistant, thank you,” she said. “Do you have a job?”
“No,” he admitted. “Though I’ll probably have to start looking soon.”
Scarlett nodded. “Yeah, it sucks, but I need the money. I’m still living with my parents, but I have to pay for school books and gas and stuff.”
“Yeah,” Boothe said. Then they grew silent for a few minutes.
“This world is huge, huh?” Scarlett asked.
“It looks like it’s roughly one-fourth scale of the real world. Perry and Wichita are real places, about one hundred miles from each other. Time seems to move at four times the speed as well, so one day in this world takes six hours of real time. It’s crazy the amount of detail that they’ve put into this game.”
“And barely anybody is getting to play it. Only one hundred invitations given out.”
“It’s weird right?” Boothe asked. “Like how is the game even going to make any money?”
“It’s won’t,” Scarlett said. “At least not like this.”
After nearly half an hour of driving through the flat countryside, Boothe spotted Lucas’ Mustang ahead, on the side of the road. He slowed a bit and had his drone scan the area, but didn’t see any sign of Lucas.
“Looks like we won,” Scarlett said.
“But where is he?” Boothe asked. Despite Lucas’ attitude and overall annoying demeanor, Boothe found himself saying, “I hope he didn’t get killed.”
“Yeah,” Scarlett agreed. “He owes us a hundred dollars.”
They continued driving north, until finally the city of New Wichita came into view on the horizon.
DISCOVERED NEW WICHITA
Boothe gains 200XP!
LEVEL UP!
Boothe reaches Level 5!
Ability point gained. Skill point gained.
Assign available points.
A mile of demolished buildings encircled a wall made from sheet metal, cement slabs, pipes, and whatever else could be put together. A few tall structures stood inside the walls, and the rest of the place was packed full of ramshackle houses and shops built from the remnants of other structures. Guards stood at set intervals along the top of the wall, rifles in hand, and robotic miniguns were mounted around the gate leading in.
“Well,” Boothe said. “We made it.”
“Yes,” Scarlett replied. “It’s very subtle, don’t you think?”
Boothe assigned his points before they drove in, putting a point in Aim (so that maybe he could hit something with his new pistol), and a point in Hacking (so that maybe he wouldn’t set off any more alarms.)
Then he gave the guards a wave as he drove through the gate and into New Wichita.
Level 5
New Wichita
1
The street going into New Wichita curved right into a nearly empty parking area surrounded by three buildings.
The first was a four-story parking garage. A gate blocked the way into the place and an automatic ticket booth stood in front of it, with a sign proclaiming Long-term Storage - $1 per wheel, per week. To Boothe, the garage looked completely vacant.
Next to it was a car lot. The sign above it read Granny Mojo’s Car Emporium, along with a subtitle below saying, Best cars in the Wasteland. There were a few cars of various makes and models in front of the building, and through the glass windows, Boothe saw more on the showroom inside. There were sports cars, muscle cars, vans, trucks, and motorcycles. All of them were modified in some way, and none looked entirely new.
Finally, the last building was a garage with two open bay doors in the front. Inside, Boothe saw a truck up on one of the lifts and a small crew of mechanics working around it. The walls were lined with tools and equipment. The sign above this building was a simple piece of black sheet metal with the words “Randy’s Garage” spray painted on it in green.
“We should stop there to fix the car,” Scarlett said, pointing to the garage. “You mind going half on the fee?”
“Sure,” Boothe said. He drove the Falcon up to the unoccupied garage and parked at the front. When they stepped out, a man in greasy denim overalls walked up to them.
“You need repairs?” the man asked. “That’s a nice Falcon you got there.”
“Are you Randy?” Boothe asked. “Caden, from Perry, sent us here.”
“Randy’s dead,” the man said. “Dropped a car on his head, popped it like a melon. I’m his son, Todd.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”
“T’salright. Want me to fix your car?”
“Yes please.”
Todd walked around the Falcon, checking out the body, then lifted the hood to take a look at the engine as well.
“Gonna take a day,” he said. “And $200.”
Scarlett looked over to Boothe. “You okay with that?”
“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” he said.
“Nope,” Todd said. “We’re the only garage in the area.”
“Okay then, we’ll leave the car here and pick it up tomorrow,” Boothe said.
“Alright buddy,” Todd said, holding his palm out. “Hand over the keys and we’ll get to work. Payment due on pickup.”
Boothe put the key to the Falcon in Todd’s hand, then he and Scarlett walked away. She turned back and looked at the Falcon wistfully several times as they made their way through the parking lot.
They walked into the inner city of New Wichita. Here, vehicles were not permitted. The paths were narrow and crowded and Boothe saw several other players wandering around - some were talking to vendors, or running towards a destination. Others were jumping around like mad men, bouncing against stalls and buildings. Boothe wondered what was wrong with those people.
“Where are we heading?” Scarlett asked. “I want to find a quest. I’m ready to shoot something and we’re going to be broke after these repairs.”
“I’m supposed to meet a friend here in a bar called The Eagle’s Nest,” Boothe said.
“A friend?” she asked. “A real-life friend?”
“Yeah. He started in a different place than me, so we hadn’t been able to meet up yet.”
“Oh,” she said. “Okay.”
Then they saw a sign, hanging from a building down the street - a wooden placard with an eagle on it, wings spread and two beer mugs clasped in its talons. A crowd was gathered outside the place, sitting in tables underneath a canopy. Boothe and Scarlett walked past them and through the entrance to see even more people clustered around in groups, talking and drinking.
“Wow…” Scarlett said.
The place was so much different than The Depot back in Perry. It was a bar, sure, but it was at least five times the size, not counting the outside area. And this place was busy - not just with NPCs, but with players too. There were at least fifty players here, all easily identifiable by their mismatched clothing and arm tattoos. Some were human, like Boothe and Scarlett, but others were robots in metallic bodies with a wide assortment of attachments and modifications. Still others were mutants with a near infinite variety of abnormalities. One had an extended canine-like snout, while another had green skin and a cluster of tentacles hanging down from his chin.
As Boothe and Scarlett took the place in, the tentacle-chinned mutant walked towards them.
Boothe, unsure of the mutant’s intentions, reached down and put his hand on his pistol. When he touched the handle, a robot rolling past on tiny wheels reached over and put metal claw-hand on his shoulder.
“If you draw your weapon in [THE EAGLE’S NEST], you will be removed from the premises.”
Boothe pulled his hand away from the gun. At least he knew that the mutant wouldn’t likely pull a weapon on him either.
“Bran?” the mutant asked, the tentacles wriggling below his chin, as if each had a mind of its own.
“Yeah,” Boothe said. “That you Paul?”
“That’s me,” the mutant spoke with an awful British accent. A red and yellow striped scarf was wrapped around his neck and he wore a long brown overcoat. “My name on here is Cthulwho. Yours is Boothe, I presume?”
“Yeah,” Boothe said. He motioned towards Scarlett “This is Scarlett. Scarlett, this is my friend Paul.”
“It’s Cthulwho,” he corrected. “Cthulhu because of the tentacle-face, and Who, because Dr. Who is the best.” He took a little bow towards Scarlett and said, “Nice to meet you madam.”
She rolled her eyes, but said, “Nice to meet you too.”
They sat at a table, then Boothe and Cthulwho began exchanging stories about what they had done so far. Cthulwho had started off in some caves to the west of New Wichita, close to Colorado. He took a guard job with a caravan that drove him to this place. Since then, he had done a couple of small quests around New Wichita, but had mostly been talking to other players around the city.
“There’s more than a hundred players in the game now,” Cthulwho said. “There has to be. They must have given away more tickets. I’ve seen over a hundred in this bar alone.”
Scarlett had been quiet through much of the conversation, but now she spoke up.
“Can we do a quest or something?” she asked. “I haven’t gotten to shoot anything all night, and I’m getting bored.”
“There’s
a notice board over there,” Cthulwho said. “Why don’t you go pick out something for us, love?”
She sighed and stood up. “Don’t call me love,” she said, walking away towards the board.
“So how long have the two of you been together?” Cthulwho asked.
“We’re not together,” Boothe said. “We’re just friends.”
“That’s what I mean, you bloody git. How long have you been questing together?”
“Two days now.”
“She seems wicked cool. You don’t know her in real life?”
“No,” Boothe said. “Quit talking about her, she’s coming back.”
Scarlett returned with a sheet of paper in her hand.
WANTED
A small group for a dangerous infiltration quest. Contact Victor at The Eagle’s Nest for more information.
REQUIREMENTS - Level 4, 3-5 in group, Hacking skills
REWARD - $1000
“A thousand bucks?” Boothe asked. “Holy crap.”
“I figured $1000 split three ways is a pretty good payday for us,” Scarlett said. “And you have hacking skills, so we’re all set there.”
“Sounds crackin’ good to me,” Cthulwho said. “I’ll group up with you two then.”
Cthulwho requests to join your group.
Boothe clicked accept, and then added Cthulwho to his Friends list as well.
“What exactly do you do?” Scarlett asked Cthulwho.
“I can disable enemies with long range blasts,” he replied. “And I can read people’s minds.”
“You better stay out of my mind,” Boothe said.
“Don’t worry Bran, nobody wants to see the dumb thoughts that go through your head.”
“Okay,” Scarlett said, “Let’s find this Victor guy, I’m ready to get going.”
“Oh I know who Victor is,” Cthulwho said. “I’ve seen a lot of people talking to him about jobs.” He pointed over to a man in a business suit who stood near the door. Among all these people in leather, spikes, and pieces of armor cobbled together from a multitude of different sources, the man in a normal business suit stood out.
Together the three walked over to him.
Apocalypse 2020: A Wasteland LitRPG Page 10
