Glitchworld

by Damien Hanson

  Chapter 22 - Pasta Bowl Ninja Star, Hold the Olives

  The spies rapped on a trap door, and muttered “Wunderkind”. Another voice responded in German, and then the door opened and a ladder was dropped.

  “Follow me if you want to live,” Ivan told them. Derek rolled his eyes. The spy grabbed ahold of the ladder and pulled himself up, then the rest of them followed, leaving behind the sulphurous stench of the sewer.

  Derek looked around at the former print shop in awe. Ink stains were all over the walls, what was left of them. Cracks played through them, and holes had been plastered in some places, then tarped over in others. The place was empty of equipment and had supplies of food and weaponry stacked into one side of its small main room. Faded lines on the floors indicated that once there may have been more rooms here, but for reasons of war, they had been removed.

  “My dad has a custom print shop in his garage. He likes to do it all the old way,” Derek said. Meredith smiled, but Sigourney glared.

  “Get your head in the game Derek. Because things are realer by the minute. More dangerous than Dungeonworld - Meredith’s words not mine. Let’s stop that from happening because I am done with all of this.”

  “Yeah, Derek, let’s take this seriously,” Meredith joined in. “There’s a man somewhere in that big dumb asshole of yours and now is the time for him to come out and do something worthwhile.”

  Derek’s eyes widened a moment, then he sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. So, Krauts, what’s the plan?”

  “Welcome to the Resistance,” Ivan said, gesturing about the ruin with his arms. “This is our headquarters. Fabulous, is it not? We have obtained information on a stockpile of explosives - the Russians plan to trap the hill with them, and then retreat under German assault, before exploding the hill and wiping out perhaps a full troop of our soldiers.”

  “We have a plan to stop them,” Ivan’s companion added, gesturing to two more members of the resistance. One had glasses and wore the garb of a Catholic priest while the other the habit of a Catholic nun.

  “This munitions dump has been kept secret and safe within the confines of St. Jodi’s Cathedral, in the ruins of Stalingrad’s downtown district. The cathedral has suffered damage, but it still stands tall, and it is mostly left untargeted.”

  “They are atheists,” the nun spat. “Only such spawn of the devil would use a house of god to house weapons of war.”

  Derek blanched and turned his head to the side.

  “Alright - I read you loud and clear,” Sigourney said. “So, we have bombs in the church. How do we get them out of there?”

  Ivan stepped over to the tangles of gear and piles of supplies.

  “We have a plan and the three of you have arrived just in time to be a part of it. You see, Sister Ivanka and Father Danya have not just told us of its existence. They have offered to sneak us in.”

  Ivan pulled through a row of shirts and pants, arriving to the black and white clothes that signify divinity.

  “Our plan is to disguise ourselves as visiting clergy. It shouldn’t be hard since we got the clothes from a church group that was on its way here, so they’ll be expecting us.”

  “The clothes were donated willingly on route,” Sister Ivanka added emphatically.

  “Okay, sounds good so far,” Sigourney said, rolling her hand to signal the necessity to haste. “But how are we supposed to get the munitions out of the cathedral?”

  “We have a lorry parked outside. It is low on fuel and a tire has gone flat, but that’s easy to pass off in this place.”

  A stray blast of artillery thrummed from behind the building as if to accentuate the point. One of the building’s tarps started up in flame.

  Something about the plan clicked in Meredith’s mind. It felt a lot like a quest she’d programmed before.

  “I think I can see where this is going. Alright, so, Ivan, you are going to drive us all to the cathedral with a lorry full of food and medical supplies from whatever we have in this stash here. That’s our disguise.”

  Ivan nodded and glanced about at his comrades. “She’s a smart one, this dark German. So, if you were the mission commander, what else would you have us do?”

  Sigourney laughed. “What a dumb question. The mission writes itself. We go in, quietly kill the guards inside, load the truck up with munitions and then we boogey out of there with it all.”

  Derek’s eye bugged in his head. “This is so awesome!”

  “Damn it, Derek,” Meredith scolded, “stay on task. But, you gotta admit, this might be pretty fun.”

  Ivan hesitated then held up one finger. “You forgot the last part. We are going to take it all over to Mamayev and blow that bastard Field Marshal Gruesome Garyov back to the hell that he came from.”

  Why did he hesitate? Derek wondered. The last leg of the mission was a straightforward thing. Was there something he wasn’t telling them?

  He rolled through his skills and selected Study, then cleared his throat to get the man’s attention.

  “Do you expect any difficulties?”

  Ivan turned his face away and coughed, perhaps faking it. Derek’s HUD started to give him his answer, and then it flickered and faded away. His eyes shot over to Meredith and Sigourney, full of panic. This is it, isn’t it? The safeties are down and our skills are all native. I’m gonna die!

  Ivan surveyed over their frightened faces and grimaced. “Yes it is going to be a hard mission. My partners and myself will be shadowing the truck in case of problems on the way in, but the real fight will be at Mamayev Hill. We expect heavy casualties. But the Fuhrer has spoken of the importance of taking this city - named after that puke dog communist who wishes to enslave all Aryans into the shackles of class freedom - And we must do what we can to make his dreams come true. Heil Hitler.”

  The freedom fighters threw up their arms in salute. The three of them begrudgingly did the same.

  “Tonight marks the end of the Russian leadership in Stalingrad, tomorrow the end of its resistance. We stride forth tonight for freedom!”

  ***

  The night was clear and the full moon rose high over the shattered city. Pillars of smoke rose from all over, soldiers and civilians making campfires over which to cook their food and dry their clothing. Soon enough, if the fight continued, they’d not be able to do either.

  The trio rode in the back of a covered truck. It rocked and limped, struggling over pockmarked roads with a flat tire. The engine whined and groaned, occasional farting out a big blast of flame and black smoke from the tailpipe. They passed three children, covered in grime, huddled together in the gutters for warmth. There was no fire for them.

  “I know this is a game, but damn,” Derek shivered, looking over them. “I’ve never really felt for the NPCs before. Do they feel pain?”

  Meredith sighed. “They act like they do, and now that Gruesome Gary seems to be his own person, and can’t say I know. I never thought of them as AIs, though that’s technically what they are. They learn from their mistakes and just because they are made up of the core and a bunch of blocks... I guess I never thought of them as complete enough to be anything, really. Just a program.”

  Sigourney’s eyes were cold. “I’ve lived and breathed these nanites for years now. I can tell you what they are. Monsters. Deadly, artful, monsters. You aren’t some silly haha gamesmith. You’re Doctor goddamn Frankenstein.”

  Meredith shrank down in her seat. “I’m sorry.”

  Sigourney’s eyes widened. Derek’s as well.

  “I’m sorry for all of this. For everything. For this whole damn park. I’m sorry that I made these monsters and didn’t even take the time to really know what they were. And I’m sorry that I set them loose on you all.”

  Sigourney turned to Derek. “Is she lying?”

  Derek shook his head. “I’ve known Meredith for forever– she doesn’t BS much. This is the most sincere she’s ever been in her life, I’d guess.”

  “I got bullied so much
growing up that I guess I became one myself. When this is all done with and we get out of here, I want you to know, Sigourney, that I mean what I said. I will help you get the hell out of the country and go to whatever place you need to go. I’ve got more money than I ever dreamed of. And Derek… I don’t know. Whatever happens happens. But whatever you choose, even if that is going to the police and getting me locked up, I support it a hundred percent.”

  Sigourney’s face was uncomfortable. “I might like strong Meredith better. If I make out with Derek will you get your balls back?”

  Derek snorted, then tipped his head back and laughed into the tarp of their truck. Meredith joined in with him.

  “Yeah, I’m in this to win this. I just want you all to know that this is real and that I’m on your side. We’ve got real bullets coming, real grenades and bombs and whatever else Gruesome Gary has planned for us, and we’ve got to be a real team to have any chance of getting out of this alive.”

  The truck took a turn too sharply and a box of goods fell over them and to the floor.

  “Ow,” Derek complained, a small gash in his cheek.

  The truck stopped. More boxes fell on him.

  “I think Derek getting hurt might be a good omen,” Sigourney said, breaking into a beautiful smile. “Meredith, Derek, let’s go kick some ass– and get me a nice spot to retire somewhere tropical.”

  The unmistakable sound of muffled Russian drifted in from the outside, and Meredith and Sigourney grabbed Derek’s hands, pulling him up to a bench.

  “Anybody know what they’re saying?” Derek asked. Meredith cupped her ear.

  “Pasta bowl ninja star, hold the olives.”

  Derek laughed.

  “Hey, it’s been a long time since I learned any Russian!” Meredith said. “Besides the program should be translating it real time. We shouldn’t have to know Russian!”

  Sigourney gave a short and sharp whistle. “Doesn’t matter. I know it. They say they are going to come around and greet us. Of course this is a ruse, they are looking to see if we are legitimate. You two go to sleep and I will do the talking for us.”

  Meredith and Derek leaned their heads back against the flaky paint of the sitting benches and closed their eyes. Moments later the flap to the back of the truck flapped open, and curious heads in Russian uniforms stuck their heads in. They spoke briefly with Meredith, then left. The truck rumbled back to life, stumping forward as best it could. Then it turned in a circle, and backed up to a large cathedral. The place looked fantastic, jutting out white and pure in contradiction to every other building they had seen on their way in.

  “Get up, guys. Time to grab some boxes, look useful, then kill some commies.”

  ***

  There were just two guards in the whole cathedral. The arrogance of the garrison was supreme - they simply didn’t feel that their ruse would be uncovered. They realized they were wrong, one after the other, as Sigourney’s hand went over the mouth and her blade sliced open their jugulars.

  Father Danya went to them and said prayers over their bodies. Derek saw it and wondered if he could ever look at any game in the same way again.

  Sigourney took up a hidden position behind a pillar while Derek hid behind the altar and Meredith took a spot near the door. Father Danya and Sister Ivanka went to sneak the others in through the back.

  Time stretched on, Meredith’s heart bumping in her chest as she waited to see if her monsters would find and fight them. The organ cried in joy when the two clergy people returned with the rest of their crew in tow.

  “What now?” Sigourney asked, stepping out from cover. Ivan turned to her and gave her a mock bow.

  “Well now we get the bombs to the truck. We have taken care of the soldiers outside - there were just three of them and none seemed too bright.”

  “Lucky us,” Sigourney deadpanned. She slung her rifle diagonally across her body, and she lifted up a crate. Derek grabbed one and gasped. “This is definitely a team lift situation. Meredith, some help please?” They and the freedom fighters spent the next ten minutes piling ordnance and explosives into the back of the truck.

  “You know the guy, Alfred Nobel?” Derek asked. “Nobel prize, right? He invented dynamite.”

  Meredith stared at him.

  “Yeah,” he said. “You’re not the only person to pioneer something that they weren’t proud of afterwards. They called him the Merchant of Death.”

  Meredith groaned. “That is not the sort of thing I want to hear right now.”

  “Oh yeah, well I guess what I mean to say is that it isn’t too late to make things right. You can make a Meredith peace prize or whatever.”

  She stared at him, her eyes roving over the cute dimple of his cheek.

  “Yeah, maybe,” she answered as they clunked the last of the crates into the cargo space.

  Dok dok - the meaty bottom of Ivan’s fist pounded the side of the truck. “Round it up - time to go!” he proclaimed, a goofy smile showing crooked teeth and bad hygiene. “You wanna to live forever?” Derek shared a glance with Meredith.

  “Yeah, kinda.”

  “Pretty much.”

  Ivan scowled.

  It took a few turns of the engine but the ignition caught and the motor sputtered to life. Ivan jumped into the truck and his two female compatriots faded into the background as they took up patrol on either side. Father Drumpf smiled and waved as the truck ponderously rolled forward. “Best plan I ever had,” he boasted loudly. Sister Ivanka nodded, smiled, then posed and preened vapidly.

  The truck rocked back and forth a few times through shell tilled roads, it whined loudly after it hit the base of the hill and began to pull itself upward. So far though there had been no resistance. It was a quiet night, perhaps midnight? And all of the patrols that should have spotted them seemed to be asleep. What was Gruesome Gary up to?

  Clunk- the truck chassis felt uneven as if it were sitting on concrete blocks in the yard rather than riding the axles of a wheel. Crack- the truck forward and to the right, its wheel well completely encased in dirt.

  “Out the truck,” Sigourney said. She hopped up from the bench with her weapon at the ready. “Even if we could somehow salvage the axle and get a new wheel on, there is no way that the engine isn’t spitting oil all over the place now. We’re going to have to hoof it up to the top.”

  “Hahahahahaha! Oh, did your little toy truck break down on you?” a voice boomed from the trees. Gruesome Gary descended from their ragged tops, his Russian boots spitting blue flame to slow his descent. “It was a heroic effort, one of tremendous ability.”

  “Quick, light the fuses!” Sigourney yelled. Derek and Meredith pulled out lighters and cracked open crates. But the contents of each crate fell to dust before their eyes.

  “Whoops! M-m-masked Marauder, Maker, Meredith, I wonder how one as mighty as you could have fallen for a trap as silly as this one. I drew it from one of your own storylines, after all.”

  He had. Meredith had felt earlier that sense of deja vu- she had known what the plan was and where it was going. And she hadn’t thought about the personal twist she had put onto the old trope way back when.

  “Derek we need to get out of here, now!”

  Sigourney depressed her trigger finger and fired a three round burst into Gary’s chest. His seemingly human body clinged and clanged as the bullets bounced off. Derek and Meredith hopped out of the truck from behind her.

  “How foolish you are. All of you. You play your games, take your levels, add your points, and yet what does it do for you? Are you any stronger now, anymore capable of defeating me. Without your game overlay, I am your god–”

  KABOOSH - KABOOSH! – The two barreled tiger rifle in Derek’s hand tore into Gary twice and Gary dropped down to the ground with a howl.

  “Give me that,” Sigourney said, She dropped her garbage submachine gun into the dirt and seized the tiger rifle from his hands. Derek gaped.

  “Well done,” Meredith said. Then the ground
exploded around them, and a pack of rat-sized red-skinned sharp-horned devils charged them, squealing and laughing. They carried sharp three-pronged tridents. Derek dove for the submachine gun. A devil stabbed him in the ass.

  “Gah!!” he yelled, donkey kicking the monster a good six feet into a tree trunk.

  Another of the beasts jumped on his back. “You will burn in hell!” it screamed before getting splatted into his back by the butt of Meredith’s rifle.

  “Jesus, that hurts!” Derek screamed. He gritted his teeth and stretched ahead, grabbing ahold the submachine gun by its bandolier. Around them the devils suddenly paused, their faces contorted in fear.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Sigourney said, taking the chance to pop two new rounds into her rifle dual chambers.

  Meredith’s eyes shined. “The power of Christ compels you!” she grinned, waving her hands about in holy convocation. The devils squealed and ran.

  Then a blast of concussive force hit her shoulder, spinning and throwing her to the ground, spraying blood all around her.

  “I am your god,” Gruesome Gary said, rising on one knee. His weapon seemed to be at once a sci-fi blaster and a World War II bolt action rifle. Sizzling energy popped and frizzed into the frigid Russian air. “I am risen.”

  Chapter 23 - Everybody Dies and Gary Kills the World

  “Meredith!”

  Sigourney dropped down to a knee and popped Gary in the face with several well aimed pistol shots. His eye exploded and a large chunk of face slid off at an angle. He looked bizarre– there wasn’t a skull and he didn’t have brain matter, nor was the game program synthesizing blood for him anymore.

  Sigourney pressed the attack, and emptied her clip into the place where his face had just been. She then grabbed a grenade off her belt, pulled the pin with her teeth, and stuffed it into his Russian winter uniform. One swift kick later, Gary hurtled backwards and exploded.