“Sorry buddy,” I said to it. “I’d pet you, but I’m allergic.”
Then the door opened, and Foster stood there. His hair was a mess and his eyes looked dark and tired. He was dressed in a plain white t-shirt and denim shorts. I’d never seen him wear anything like that to school before - usually he was the most well-dressed guy at our lunch table with button up shirts and khaki pants.
“Hey Boothe,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
He called me by my in-game name, but I barely noticed.
“I just came to check on you. You sick?”
“Nah,” he said. He opened the door and walked out onto the porch with me. “I’d invite you in, but my mom doesn’t like people to be in the house.”
“No problem,” I said.
He sat on the edge of the porch, with his legs dangling down. I sat a few feet away. As soon as I was down, the black cat crawled up into my lap. I tried to shoo him away, but the cat would not take no for an answer. Eventually, I found myself running my hand down his back. My eyes would be puffy later, and I’d likely start sneezing soon, but I couldn’t resist.
“So why didn’t you come to school?” I asked.
“Just didn’t feel up to it today,” he said.
“You want to talk about it?” I offered.
He looked at me hesitantly, but eventually gave in.
“I don’t want to turn this into a big sob story,” he said. “But playing with you guys has been the best thing in my life since you gave me that ticket. I hate being here. Hate living in this house, with this family. I don’t have the best parents. They’re always fighting and yelling - when they’re not berating me for one thing or another. Apocalypse 2020, and our little group, made me happy. There’s not much that does that these days.”
“Sorry man,” I said. “We’ll get another ticket soon and get you back in the game.”
He sighed and leaned back, lying flat on the wooden slats of the porch.
“I was just really looking forward to finishing the whole questline with you guys. Killing Orion, you know. I wanted to see what would happen.”
“Well you can still see what happens,” I said. “Scarlett and I have been planning on meeting up for the final battle. Playing side by side in real life, you know. She lives in Sherman, just an hour away from here.”
“Whaaaaat?” Foster said, his voice going high. “You and Scarlett are going to hook up in real life?”
“Well I don’t know about hooking up, but we’re going to meet. Do you want to come along with me? You wouldn’t be able to play, but you’d still be there at least.”
“I wouldn’t get in the way with you two?” he asked. “I don’t want to be a third wheel.”
“No, nothing like that,” I said. “It’s not a date. We don’t even know each other very well.”
“You’re awfully friendly in game though. I saw you two holding hands after that fight with Lucas.”
“In game is different. You know that.”
“I guess,” he said. “When is it going to happen, you think?”
“Soon. I don’t know for sure. Maybe this weekend.”
“Damn,” he said. “I wish I could play it.”
“I know,” I said.
He was still down, but he seemed at least a little more cheerful than when I had gotten there.
“You going to be okay man?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he said. “You better get out of here before my Mom gets home. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
I wondered what was so bad about his Mom seeing me there, but I didn’t ask. I guess you only ever see the part of a person’s life that he wants you to see. Like an avatar in a game, everybody has a character that they play when they’re around others.
I pushed the cat away, trying to remember not to touch my face until I could wash my hands. Then I said goodbye to Foster and drove home. When I arrived at my little house, in my boring neighborhood, I couldn’t help but feel thankful. My life wasn’t perfect, but it was good.
Dad’s car was parked in the driveway and when I walked in, he sat in our tiny living room, leaning back in his recliner and watching Walker: Texas Ranger on the television. Not my favorite show, but Dad loved it.
“Hey,” he said. “Just getting in from school?”
“Yeah, I was talking to a friend. You don’t have to work today?”
“They finally gave me a day off,” he said. “Amazing, I know.”
I’m not sure what made me do it, but I walked up to him, leaned down and threw my arms around his shoulders. I couldn’t remember the last time I hugged my dad - maybe before Mom died - but I felt like hugging him then.
“What’s this for?” he asked.
“Just thanks,” I said. “For everything. And I’m sorry I’m such a butthole all the time.”
“Not all the time,” he said, laughing. “Sometimes! But not all the time.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again.
“It’s alright son. Life is hard, and I know you’ve had a rough time. I love you.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
He patted me on the back and said, “Now get out of the way, so I can watch my show.”
I let go of him and stood up. He wasn’t watching his show though, he was looking at me.
“Are you crying?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “It’s just allergies, because I was petting a stupid cat earlier.”
I rushed off towards the bathroom, embarrassed.
“When you’re done crying,” Dad called from the living room. “Do you want to go out to eat somewhere? I’ve been dying for a steak.”
“Sounds good, Dad,” I said. “But I’m not crying!”
Level 13
Three Cells
1
“So anyways,” Boothe said, then took a deep breath. Forming the words was surprisingly difficult. He didn’t want to say it - wished that he didn’t have to. “We need a fifth member for Atomic Massacre and were wondering if you wanted to join?”
“Me, join up with you losers?” Lucas replied. He looked over at the rest of Atomic Massacre who stood a few yards away. They had all felt sorry for Lucas. He lost his entire team, and half of his face, in a heroic act and after the battle, he had started doing short solo quests to help around the Palisades. The way he moped around the tower, it was obvious that he was depressed about losing his opportunity at taking on Orion. The group had decided together to give him a chance, but then nominated Boothe to make the invitation.
“Sure, why not?” Lucas answered.
“Cool,” Boothe said. “Try not to be an ass.”
Boothe turned back to join the others, but before he could walk away, Lucas grabbed him by his shoulder.
“Seriously,” Lucas said. “Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. Come on.”
So Lucas followed him over to the others and officially joined the group. Caustic was gone, which sucked, but they had made a new friend from an old enemy and now they had a full team again.
The Palisades had taken heavy damage from the attack, but was undergoing repairs quickly. The Eagles had come together to help with the cleanup - many travelling all the way from New Wichita, others coming from the nest that had been established in Mesquite by Orange Horizon - Paul’s team. The holes in the side of the building had been boarded up and stabilized, the field east of the tower had been cleared, and the corpses had been incinerated in a large ceremony that brought tears to many eyes.
It didn’t matter that it was a game. It didn’t matter that these weren’t real people, real lives, or real bodies. Players or NPCS - either way, they were friends who would not be here anymore. Even if the players were to come back as another character, it wouldn’t be the same.
Atomic Massacre - Please Report to the Conference Room as soon as possible.
They walked to the new conference room which had been established on the first floor after the second-floor conf
erence room was decimated by the same explosion that blew up Abigail’s office.
Abigail stood behind the podium, her arms crossed in front of her. The chairs were arranged into three rows of five, with the front two rows already filled, leaving the last for Atomic Massacre. Seated in the front row was Chaotic Decay, the team of mutants and robots led by the rocket-launcher wielding man named Hugo. He gave Boothe a nod of acknowledgement as he passed.
The second row contained Orange Horizon. Boothe wondered why they were here, when they had their own base in Mesquite. Cthulwho sat in the middle, chatting with the rest of his team. He stopped his conversation when Atomic Massacre entered and said, “Hey Bran,” when Boothe walked by.”
“Hey,” Boothe said.
“How’s it going, traitor?” Scarlett said with a slight smile.
“Hey Scarlett,” Cthulwho said, his green skin turning slightly pale.
Once everybody had taken their seats, Abigail shut the door and pulled down the screen on the wall behind the podium. Then she pressed a button to turn on the projector and began speaking.
“First, I want to thank you all on the hard work you have done getting this base back to operating standards. We lost many people in the battle here, but their deaths will not be in vain. We are nearly ready to launch our attack against Orion.”
She pressed a button on the podium and a blurry image appeared on the screen. The figure in the center of the picture appeared to be at least seven feet tall, with bull-like metal horns above his head that made him look even larger. Every inch of him was covered in steel plates, so that Boothe could not be sure if he were a man or a mutant or a robot. Anything seemed plausible.
“Thanks to Chaotic Decay,” Abigail said, “we have our first look at the Bandit King Orion.”
At another press of the button, the image moved. It wasn’t a still photo, but part of a video with no sound. The armored figure fought solo against a group of twenty bandits.
“Notice how bullets never penetrate his armor, and blades break against the metal plating. Explosives barely move him, and acid does not seem to have any effect at all. This bandit even tries to use a flamethrower. You would think that the heat would cook whoever is inside that armor, or damage the machinery if it is robotic, but Orion does not seem to feel any pain or slow down in any way.”
Boothe watched as the monster on the screen ignored all the attacks from the bandits. A blade extended from his right hand. Fire shot from his metal boots and he glided across the ground towards a cluster of bandits before viciously slicing them to ribbons. He spun and held out his left hand and his wrist exploded silently, sending out a cloud of smoke. A dozen small missiles spiraled through the air, separated and flew towards the bandits, turning in mid-air to seek them out. Then all at once, they detonated, filling the air with a bloody red mist. With only a few bandits remaining of the original, now cowering in fear, lightning arced between Orion’s horns, spreading outward in a crazy cluster of bolts. The video began to get snowy, horizontal lines breaking apart the image, then it all degenerated into static.
“I guess now we know what happened to the bandits that fled from the battle,” Scarlett said.
“He likely has many more offensive capabilities that we have not yet seen,” Abigail continued. “This was all the information that Chaotic Decay was able to obtain- and far more than we could have expected. Thank you again for risking your lives getting that close to Dallas.”
“I just wish we had been here to help,” Hugo said.
Abigail pressed a button and the image on the wall changed to the map of the area surrounding Dallas.
“Since we have received this video, I’ve had our best people working on finding some way of equipping us to fight Orion. They tell me that they can manufacture armor-penetrating bullets that should be able to break through his plating, but they need Tungsten. The mineral is not produced naturally in this region of the world. Before the Apocalypse, it was imported from other countries and used for military purposes, along with some alloys used in manufacturing various products. Our people have found a few places that are likely to have caches of tungsten.”
“Let me guess,” Cthulwho interrupted. “They’re well defended and you want to send one group to each target to retrieve them.”
“Yes,” Abigail said. “But that’s not all. Chaotic Decay’s recent surveillance mission not only captured images of Orion for the first time, but they also discovered a way into the domed base, and a way to lower the force-field. When we have these armor-piercing rounds, we will be completely ready for our final assault.”
“Holy crap,” Scarlett said. “That soon, huh?”
“That’s right,” Abigail continued. “However, only one cell will lead the mission. You three are the highest ranked cells in the organization, so it is only fitting that one of you is chosen. How do we choose though? We could just pick the currently highest rated, which would be Atomic Massacre, but that doesn’t seem fair since both Orange Horizon and Chaotic Decay are newer cells and have soared up the rankings so quickly. Given another week, either one of them could pass Atomic Massacre up.”
Boothe wasn’t sure that was a fair assessment, but he kept quiet.
“So, we’ve decided to make this mission a sort of race. Our people have determined that each of the cache locations is roughly equal in distance and difficulty, so whichever cell gets the cache and returns to us first will be the one chosen to lead the mission against Orion.”
“A race?” Braddock said. “This seems like it would use up our resources unnecessarily. Why can’t we all three infiltrate the dome?”
Abigail narrowed her eyes at the robot. She did not like to be questioned. “The way into the dome is small, so a larger force would likely not make a difference. We also do not know if the path is clear, and we would prefer not to send all three of our most valuable teams into what could be a deathtrap.”
This seemed to satisfy Braddock, at least temporarily.
“When do we start?” Scarlett asked.
“The dossiers are already on the table in front of you. The race begins as soon as you come forward and choose one. Good luck.”
With that, Abigail turned and walked out of the room.
The teams looked back and forth between each other, wide-eyed. Then all at once, they rushed towards the dossiers.
2
“The Dallas Zoo?” Boothe asked. “Why would there be tungsten at the Dallas Zoo?”
He and Scarlett sat in the front of the Falcon, while Lucas rode in the back. Braddock and Mariko followed behind on their motorcycles.
He went through his menu quickly as he drove, allocating the points he had received last session to Dexterity and Driving - he might need them very soon.
They had taken the dossier without even looking and dashed down to the parking garage, figuring they would find out where they were going along the way. They needed to win this race. The other two teams drove behind them at first, but eventually they veered off into separate directions.
“I don’t know why it would be at the zoo,” Scarlett said, “but that’s what this dumb dossier says!”
Boothe didn’t even need to use the in-game map to get there. He’d seen the signs for the zoo along Highway 35 on the way to his new house from Austin. It was hard to miss the enormous metal giraffe statue in front of the place. He knew exactly how to get there in real life, so he knew how to get there in the game.
“Follow me guys,” he said into his headset. “I know the way.”
Boothe headed west on 635, looking for the intersection with I35 south. A couple of minutes after getting on the highway, Braddock said “Watch out guys, we got incoming.”
Bandits in two trucks with miniguns attached to the top pulled up behind them. The trucks were both huge - they looked like the kind the military uses to transport cargo. A man with welding goggles and a near toothless smile rode on the top of one, operating the minigun, while the second seemed to be completely automat
ed, operating on its own. The miniguns spun, blasting a stream of bullets towards them.
“Mariko pull back,” Braddock said. “Let’s see if we can get behind them!”
Boothe watched them in the rearview mirror. Braddock and Mariko both swerved to the side and put their brakes on, but the drivers in the trucks weren’t fooled. The one with the robotic turret swerved and slammed into Braddock’s motorcycle, sending the smaller vehicle flying. He flipped over the handlebars and landed somewhere along the side of the road.
“Braddock!” Boothe called. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Braddock said, his voice strained. “Keep going, I’ll catch up.”
The man with the goggles spun his gun to follow Mariko. She steered to the left, barely staying ahead of his stream of bullets, and moved close to the truck in an attempt to get out of the gunman’s line of fire.
Lucas took the rifle off his back and stood up in the back seat of the Falcon, rising up through the open roof. He aimed, and fired at the bandit with the goggles, blowing the top of his skull off. The bandit slumped down in his seat and the gunfire from that truck stopped.
Meanwhile, Boothe sent Marty towards the automated turret on top of the other truck. Its aim was still locked onto the Falcon, bullets slamming into the armored car, quickly wearing it down. With a jerk, the Falcon shuddered and slowed a bit - one of the bullets must have hit something vital.
Marty hovered through the air and connected to the circuit boards of the turret.
Hacking (85%) - SUCCESS!
Boothe quickly gave the command to overheat the turret’s processors and a moment later, after Marty was clear, it exploded, turning the entire truck into a blazing chunk of metal. The driver screamed and dove out, tumbling across the asphalt. His truck veered in the opposite direction, slammed through a guardrail and down a hill out of sight. The explosion that followed sent a blast of hot air rolling outward, pushing the Falcon sideways. Boothe struggled to keep control of the car.
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