Quest Call

by Kirk Dougal

  The knife bit into my side with a rush of pain. He pulled it out and struck again and again, each time shoving the blade deep into my flesh. I tried to move the shield between us but his arm was under mine and all I could do was trap him there, stopping the next stab but holding his knife in my body. It was a poor trade. A shiver shook my body and black circled my sight.

  But my attacker ran out of air before I ran out of blood. His eyelids fluttered then closed. He stopped struggling against the shield and his hand dropped from the side of my head where he had been alternately pushing and clawing. I fell forward off his body and rolled to my back. The grass was cool against my skin, and I realize that almost all of my armor was gone.

  Spots danced through my sight, black against the smoke and glimpses of blue sky. One spot fixed itself in the middle of my gaze, holding steady in the center and growing larger. I ground my teeth together, willing myself to remain conscious. Then the growing spot opened its mouth and screamed.

  It was the dragon.

  I stayed on the ground and waited until the punishing winds had passed. The gales whipped the flames, swirling smoke into streams of grays and black. The sounds of fighting still reached my ears, one man yelling while metal clashed with metal. I thought I heard, though it may have been more of a hope, the sound of a thrumming arrow split the air. Cries of “Bretonia!” floated by me and still more screams of anguish. DeBrest popped into view, leaping forward on the attack, then retreating in defense. I wanted to help him. Spoon had told me I needed to help the duke, but my body remained still, unable to go to his aid.

  A groan nearby, followed by soft swearing, caught my attention, and I let my head flop to the side.

  A Farwolaethan was kneeling beside Trellac. Most of my companion's shirt was soaked with blood and from his lack of reaction, I had no doubt that most of it was his. His hand rose and slapped at the soldier's arm, feebly pushing it away. The attempt drew a punch, crashing across Trellac's jaw with a dull thump. Then the man went back to pulling at a ruby-plated necklace that appeared to be attached to Trellac's chest.

  My heart skipped, starting a new ache to go along with my other wounds, and what blood I had left boiled. I rolled to my knees, pushing off the ground to get first one foot, and then the other underneath me. My left palm was on something round and hard, and I grabbed it as I rose up, a spear dragging grass across the ground as I stumbled forward.

  I could never call what I did an attack. It was more of a barely controlled fall with a spear leading the way. The Farwolaethan was so intent on ripping off Trellac's necklace and finding his IP tag that he did not hear me staggering toward him until the last moment, glancing up and giving me a good look at the stunned expression on his face, the spear diving into his chest, my weight the only muscle behind it. I fell to my knees with both hands gripping the spear shaft, pushing the soldier away from my downed companion, someone who I had misjudged so badly.

  Trellac coughed, liquid rattling in his lungs.

  “Samson,” he said, blood flowing from his mouth with the words. “Agent Joey Sampson.”

  “I'm sorry, Trellac,” I said, too weak to notice I used his avatar name. “I thought…I thought you were…”

  He shook his head and tried to smile, but it melted quickly. “Tower's orders. I couldn't tell you who I was either. Just supposed to help when I could.” He patted my back, his hand tapping lightly on the tattoo of massive werewolf head he apparently knew was there. “I hope someday I can tell my dad I got to work with The Beast. He always loved The Kindred.” He winced as a wave of pain raced through his body. “They don't tell you about this part at Quanti…” His voice trailed off.

  I leaned back, my vision blurring. I had pulled some major screw ups in my day, but this had to top the list. Trellac was the one person I could rely on inside Quest Call, and I had been suspicious of him from the start, putting my trust in Pagul instead, a man who turned out to be a traitor and possibly in league with the terrorists. I wiped my eyes with the back of a hand and stared into the distance, time moving in stops and starts, unsure of how long I remained still. The smoke swept to the side enough that I could see the castle walls. The dragon was circling overhead, but that was not what caught my attention. On one of the main towers flanking the gates to Dinas Farwolaeth, a man stood alone, his hand raised high with a light shining from one of his fingers.

  A cry rang out, and my head turned, slowly, creaking through the motion. Two more soldiers in black emerged from the grass and charged toward me. I reached down for the end of the spear, still sticking from the body of the last man. My bloody fingers curled around the shaft and pulled.

  I fell forward across Trellac's body, my strength gone. I glanced toward the attacking soldiers, preparing for the pain while the black crept in on my sight, gaining speed. Maybe I would be out of Quest Call and back at the hospital before the first spear struck my body. It would be a lot more pleasant to talk to Callie than be run through.

  The last thing I saw was dark red cloth moving in front of my eyes.

  Chapter 24

  I kept my eyes closed, but I could tell that the lights were on in the hospital room. The pillow was soft beneath my head, and I wanted to enjoy the feeling for a few more seconds before I entered the real world again, not looking forward to the debriefing I would need to have with Agent Tower. I had no plans to hold back, however. It was at least partially his fault that Samson had been killed inside Quest Call for a second time, and I had been lost as well.

  A horse neighed and my eyes flew open for a moment, then squeezed shut, blinded by the full light. When I tried again, I cracked them open slowly, adjusting before I stared around.

  Above me was not the fluorescent lights I expected, nor did I catch the familiar odor of disinfectant and air freshener, neither of which usually covered up the stench of disease and death. Instead, I saw the sky, blue and patched with clouds. The air was fresh with just a hint of the horse I heard before.

  I sat up as the wagon I was riding in creaked, swaying from side to side across a rocky road that grated against the wheels. I twisted to see who was driving and sucked in a breath as pain shot through my side.

  “Be careful. You'll rip open the knife wounds again, and Bree is too worn out to do anything else for you right now.”

  The voice was familiar, but my brain was still moving too slow to put a name to the driver.

  “Where are we?” I eased back to the floor and lay flat.

  “Halfway up the White Mountains and headed toward a pass over the top. Trying to make it back into Bretonia so we can lick our wounds and make a new plan.”

  I grunted as we hit a particularly deep rut and the wagon bounced through the depression.

  “Not what I expected. I thought I would wake up…” I stopped. No one could know about the hospital or my life—my real life—could be in danger. I had already watched someone try to steal Samson's IP tag inside Quest Call, so whoever was behind Dinas Farwolaeth knew how to find people outside of the game.

  “You thought you were going to find Dr. Jensen hovering over you in the hospital. Or maybe Nurse Gminsky.” The driver laughed. “I'd be disappointed, too, if you found me when you were expecting her. But it was damn close, RJ. I thought you were dead for sure.”

  The voice clicked into place, and I sat up again and turned, wincing through the pain in my side. “Card? Why are you inside here?”

  “Apparently, saving your ass. You were going down for a reset when I found you on the battle field.”

  I thought back to the last minutes on the plain in front of Dinas Farwolaeth. Trellac's death, knowing Pagul was the traitor, seeing the man on the wall—it was all there if I fought my way through the fog in my mind. Then I remembered the two soldiers charging and waiting for the spears to piece my body. Then, a red robe covered my vision.

  “That was you,” I said, staring at the deep red robe Card was wearing. “You killed the two men with the spears.”

  “Actually, n
o. Saleene and Bree killed them before I had a chance. I held off the dragon so we could escape.”

  I crawled forward, banging my knees on the wagon floor until I reached the front and stared out past Card. White-capped peaks perched above us, drawing closer with each sway of the wagon. The air was already cooler than the furnace the plains had offered, but I knew it would get much colder before we crested the top. I also knew there was going to be damn little to eat and even less shelter on this side of the mountain.

  “Who else made it?” I was afraid to hear the tally but I needed to know no matter how bad the news.

  “Not many.” Card clucked to the horse and shook the reins as the grade increased. “Saleene and Bree, of course. Hell, even I had trouble keeping track of them. They would pop up in one spot, kill a couple of men with their arrows, and then disappear into the grass again. That's how they got the two spearmen in front of you. Duke DeBrest made it as well, but he took some pretty good damage. He's in decent shape now, though. Bree said the rest of his injuries can heal on their own without her help. He's riding back trail on us right now, watching out for any pursuit.” Card paused staring off to the side before continuing. “That's it for our group.”

  I let the amount of devastation sink in. Remembering the number of Farwolaethans who attacked, and also the number of the Horde who deserted and ran into the castle, I was surprised any of us made it out alive.

  “Our group?” I asked. “Did some of the others make it out?”

  “I doubt it,” Card said, shaking his head. “A couple dozen of DeBrest's army took off across the plain. Riding, running, crawling—they were getting out of there any way they could. But after I stalled the dragon from roasting you, the beast took off after them. Easier prey, I suppose. We found a little depression to hide in so Bree could heal you and DeBrest as much as possible, and then we rounded up some horses and this wagon and headed out. We traveled through the first night without stopping to put as much distance as possible between us and the castle.”

  “All night?” I asked. “How long have I been out?”

  “This is the end of the third day.”

  I swung a leg up and over the seat and plopped down beside Card. It was my first time to see his face, and I nearly burst out laughing at the chest length beard, gray hairs bristling out with streaks of black mixed in. At least he was not wearing a big floppy hat. He handed me a flask, and I swallowed some water before another question popped into my thoughts.

  “How'd you do it, Card?”

  This time he did laugh, the same genuine belly shaker he had used in the hospital when he told me about Quest Call, knowing how much it would bother me with my hatred of fantasy games.

  “I'm a wizard, RJ! A war wizard to be exact,” he said. “A damn powerful one, too, if I'm to be any kind of judge.”

  “No,” I said. “I figured that much out with the beard and the robe and the whole dragon thing. How'd you get to be a wizard and be on the battlefield when we needed you?”

  Card's grin slowly drooped, leaving his lips pressed together in a white line.

  “When Agent Samson reset, he was damn near hysterical. Said he had to get back inside to help you. He claimed that Farwolaeth had to be the place where the terrorists because there was too much going on there for just regular game action. He went on and on about the men knowing how to find the IP tags.” He stopped for a few seconds.

  “Agent Tower was pretty excited by the time I made it to Samson's room. Turns out, he was on another floor in the same facility as you and they sent for me right away. Conway was pretty pissed, as well. Doc had to give Samson a sedative to calm him down, and she demanded to be put inside to help you. We decided it was better if I came instead.”

  We rode in silence for a while. I was still wrapping my head around everything that had happened, but I was not so preoccupied that I did not realize Card had ducked my main question. That bothered me. Inside the games, he was as much my partner as Jim was on the outside. The bottom of the sun was just starting to dip below the mountain peak when I could not hold back the question any longer.

  “You still haven't told me how you got into Quest Call on the battlefield.” I tried to keep my voice level, but I knew the words were clipped short.

  “We grabbed the closest character with enough power to help you,” he said. “The war wizard was in pause mode, and I used a potion to transport to you.”

  The heat in my cheeks was replaced by icy cold, anger transforming to disgust. “You thruffed another player's avatar.”

  “I know!” Card said, his voice rising to a shout as he faced me. “Tower was desperate. Hell, I was desperate! Do you think I ever wanted to do that to someone? Do you think I would've if the stakes weren't so high?”

  He turned forward, but I could still see his jaw moving, grinding his teeth. Thruffing was one of the worst things a player could do inside a game. Worse than theft, worse than hacking, thruffing someone's avatar was held on the same level as rape in some players' minds, taking control of someone's creation by force. Gamers who were caught doing it were ostracized and usually banned from playing by the companies in charge. As upset as I was about what had happened, Card appeared to feel as bad or worse.

  “Maybe Samson can restart as Trellac and come back inside so you can leave before anyone knows,” I said.

  “Not likely,” Card said. “His body reset and disappeared so that the terrorists would not be able to see his IP tag, so his avatar is gone. He will need to start over from the beginning, and that's if he'll even continue with the service.” He glanced at me, staring me in the eyes. “Someone fire bombed his house a few days ago. His wife and kids made it out okay, but the little boy had some minor burns and one officer on protection patrol was hurt bad. They're all in a safe house right now.”

  “Shit, does he know?” My first thought was that, of course, the FBI would tell Samson about the attack, but then I remembered the thruffing and wondered how far Tower would go to close this case.

  “They were going to tell him as soon as he woke up from the meds,” Card said. “But I know I would have a helluva time coming back inside if I thought my family was in danger out there.” He looked away. “So, you're stuck with me for the duration, RJ. We can't take the chance the real owner won't try to take control of this avatar again so I am going to stay inside Quest Call until this is done. Doc's got the juice turned up above legal limits to keep me in place.”

  So, Tower was willing to cut corners if he thought it was necessary. The situation must be even worse on the outside than I imagined.

  Chapter 25

  Card found a relatively flat place to pull the wagon to the side of the path before full dark settled over us and made it too dangerous for the horses to continue. We no more than stopped in the area and watered them before I heard another set of hooves approaching from below. Card hid in the shadow of a boulder while I crouched beneath the wagon, waiting for the rider to draw close. If this was not one of our group, he was going to need to handle the situation. I could barely breathe when I moved, and my sword was lost somewhere on the plain in the grasses below us. A little kid with a pocket knife could have taken me out right now, and I did not know if there was a damn thing I could do about it.

  The rider paused on the road, shifting in the saddle while the leather creaked. His horse snorted and stamped his hoof, but neither sound covered the slide of metal against a scabbard. The moon had not yet risen so I could not decide if it was the night playing tricks on my eyes or if the rider was a Farwolaethan dressed in black. If it was the second answer, then what had happened to DeBrest?

  “Is everyone just going to stare at each other in the dark? Or can we make camp and eat something?” Saleene's voice sounded from behind me, up the hillside a little, but definitely on the far side of the flat area.

  The rider near the road dismounted. “We can't all see like pumas in the dark, Saleene,” DeBrest said as he led his horse toward the wagon. “If I hadn't heard th
e horses, I would've ridden on by.”

  I crawled out from under the wagon as Card also moved closer.

  “That would have been embarrassing,” he said. “Trying to kill each other after everything else that has happened.” He chuckled quietly, and DeBrest joined him. They moved to the back and lowered the gate so they could reach the supplies inside. Their thoughts might have been on food, but mine were on more immediate matters.

  “Where's Bree?” I asked.

  “Waiting with our horses,” Saleene answered. A moment later, she gave a bird call, low and twilling, a sound more accustomed to deep woods far away. “I wanted to make sure camp was safe first. Your friend's right. We can't take any chances after the plain.”

  Hooves descended the mountain road. By the time the other woman arrived, Card and DeBrest had some food laid out. Travel biscuits and dried meat was the best we could manage in a cold camp, but after sleeping away the better part of three days, it tasted like a banquet to me.

  “There's not much left,” DeBrest said. The moon was now rising over the peaks, a thin sickle against the sky, but the little light reflected off the snow above us and added a glow that gave me enough to see him by. He was sitting on the ground, his back against the boulder Card had used for protection earlier. His shoulders slumped as he spoke.

  “It will do us no good to hunt until we're on the other side, even if we find something up here,” Saleene said. I saw her and Bree sitting, a pair of silver-haired shadows side-by-side near the wagon. “A fire would look like a beacon to anyone on the plain, and I don't want to know how fast that dragon can fly as far as we've run.”

  “We can't build a fire to cook meat, and I'm not ready to eat anything raw yet,” DeBrest said, his voice edging higher. “This gets better and better.”

  “I'm so tired.” One shadow laid her head on the shoulder of the one beside her. “I need to sleep before I try to heal anyone else.” Bree's voice rose and fell with each breath, as if the words needed to be pushed out with effort.