I knelt before her. “Erina, listen to me. My name is Ronin. Do you understand me?”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously but after a short while she nodded faintly in response.
I swallowed quickly, yet spoke slowly and with as much calm as I could force into my voice. “I’m going to get you out of here. You stay close to me, and I’ll protect you.”
“…Timmy….”
I frowned, then shook my head. “There is no Timmy.” Pointing behind me, I said, “That was Michael.”
She raised a trembling hand and pointed with a small finger toward the doorway to the apartment from whence she’d escaped. “Timmy….”
Holding onto my frown as I didn’t understand the reason for her insistent behavior, I stood up and walked to the apartment doorway. Looking to where she pointed, I noticed something lying on the floor not far from the body of her mother, and then reached down to pick up a teddy bear. I studied it for a short while thinking it was purely a co-incidence, before turning it over to see a fabric label stitched to its back with the name Timmy written on it.
Or maybe it’s not a coincidence, I thought to myself.
Thus far, The Game had proven to be disturbing on many levels. Finding a bear that I thought was lost long ago, reeked of a distinct awareness of my past, implying The Game’s creators knew me quite well.
“Bastards…,” I cursed under my breath. “This really is about me….”
Holding uncomfortably onto the bear, I returned to the little girl and squatted down before her. I looked into her eyes and suppressed a shiver before it could sprint through my body as I handed the teddy bear to her.
She took it hesitantly from me, then held it firmly against her.
I cleared my throat quickly. “You and Timmy are coming with me. We’re getting out of here.”
There was no mistaking the relief on her face as she tightly clutched the bear to her chest, but I saw something else too – the light of hope in her eyes – and the desire to genuinely protect her sparked into a fire deep within my chest. Clearing my throat again as distracting emotions welled up within me, I added, “Stay close to me. I promise I’ll protect you.”
Her lips trembled but she gave me a halting nod.
Reaching down, I helped her up to her feet, her little hand clammy to the touch. Behind a reassuring smile, I spoke softly yet firmly to her. “Remember. Stay close behind me.”
She nodded and clutched her bear again, the sight of which made my heart clench painfully, hardening my resolve and strengthening my will to see her safely out of the building…and to clear what I hoped was the final nightmarish stage.
I began walking forward at a slow pace, lightgun at the ready.
I no longer doubted that everything around me was real, but having seen the remains of the bridge and the thick fog that surrounded the island, I strongly suspected that the stages I’d travelled through were copies or replicas of the real environments. Yet regardless of what they were, I needed to complete the level and get out of this waking nightmare.
I tightened my grip on the gun as the first large scale group of undead made their appearance, emerging round a hallway corner like a flood.
Keeping my eyes and the lightgun trained on them, I spoke to the little girl breathing fearfully beside me.
“Erina, stay close to me.”
The zombies clambered over each other in their eagerness to reach us.
“Erina?”
I felt small fingers grab a hold of my trouser pant leg.
“No matter what happens, don’t let go.”
Taking careful aim, I fired a round into the closet target, a man dressed in each pajamas, jerking him to a stop. The next round blew a second hole in his head that the third mini-bullet widened. The fourth shot exploded inside his skull, and blood splashed out through the hole before the zombie collapsed face first to the ground.
I chose my next target, then the next, and the next, until dead corpses littered the carpeted corridor a couple of minutes later. When it was over, I lowered the lightgun and glanced down at the girl that had steadfastly remained at my side.
“See? There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Erina looked up at me with large brown eyes, and gave me a faint nod.
With some difficulty, I reached down and hoisted her up to my left shoulder, seating her on my bent left arm. “Hold onto me.”
The girl leaned toward me, and wrapped her arms around my neck for support while not letting go of her teddy bear.
Regardless of being hampered by her weight, and ignoring the muscles burning in my arms, I carried her over the undead, and then set her down after we’d cleared their bodies.
“Let’s go.”
Erina clutched my trouser leg, and together we walked at a slow pace down the corridor.
- VI -
Somehow, by some miracle, I succeeded in escorting the little girl out of the apartment complex. Surprisingly, she was not the only survivor. Along the way, we encountered people, about a dozen in all, that had not succumbed to whatever turned humans into zombies. I listened to their similar stories as they recounted fleeing or fighting off family members that abruptly attacked them with vacant eyes and hungry mouths. I listened but offered no comment, quickly concluding that I was an outsider not so much because I had been pulled into The Game, but by the fact that despite what was obviously a large apartment complex, a few of the survivors were acquainted with each other.
Possibilities tumbled in the back of my mind. Were they like Tabitha, innocent victims of the unseen Game Master who were pulled into The Game, thereby adding a degree of authenticity to what was already a highly realistic nightmare? I noticed they made no mention of being translocated into the apartment complex. Since it was such a noticeable event, I doubted they would keep it to themselves. In that respect, I was certain that Tabitha’s circumstance and theirs was markedly different while sharing something in common with mine.
It felt like an hour before we finally arrived at the ground floor lobby. By then I had used all the grenades in my carry-bag, and was down to a handful of ammunition magazines so I was relieved to find myself facing only ten or so zombies lingering in the lobby.
Since The Game began I had taken down hundreds of the creatures, yet I was far from inured to the killings. I understood it was a matter of survival, literally a case of life and death, and though I could not remember the faces of those I’d dispatched into the afterlife – nor did I wish to – I felt a little piece of me chipped away with each undead life that I took. As the pieces fell, what they exposed underneath was something – someone – that I did not recognize.
With the zombies in the lobby dead, I waved the group onward, including Erina who would run to me as soon as the coast was clear. Exiting the building, we descended a short flight of steps down to the street, and I stopped to gaze upon our surroundings.
Night had fallen, but the overcast sky hid the stars.
A faint mist blew over the deserted street lit sporadically by streetlights.
I looked up to see enormous megascrapers towering around us.
Somehow, I had the impression we weren’t standing in Ar Telica city, yet the buildings triggered a not so distant memory.
“…could they be…?” I wondered softly. “Could they be the buildings I saw from the plaza…?”
I had the impression there were more buildings curtained from view by the mist and darkness, but I lacked the will and the strength to investigate whether that was true or not. My arms were so tired they hung limply at my sides. My right index finger was numb. I could no longer discern when I was depressing the trigger. My legs trembled as I stood on the sidewalk, and eventually they gave way, leaving me with no option but to sit on the cold, moist ground. The carry-bag slipped to the sidewalk beside me, yet my right hand stubbornly held onto the lightgun even as I doubled over with my arms wrapped around my knees. I struggled for air as the shakes made me tremble all over, and my heart continued to ra
ce as though it refused to believe that the fight was over, or perhaps it was smart enough not to count its chicks before they hatched.
However, when I looked up I was shocked to see myself alone on the sidewalk, and the street was empty.
The tenants and the little girl, Erina, had vanished.
I straightened slowly as a chill ran repeatedly through my body, then rose to my feet and carefully looked both ways down the street.
Had they been translocated? If so, why I hadn’t I felt anything? Whenever the process took place, I was tossed about like a soda bottle tumbling down a trashcan. However, the survivors had vanished without a trace in the short while I took my eyes of them.
I left the carry-bag behind, but carried the lightgun with me as I walked to the middle of the street, and then turned about in place, hoping to hear something loud and distinct announce the end of the stage. However, only deathly silence greeted me, and I began to fear in earnest that I was trapped here. Yet the prudent side of me restrained me from crying out to someone – anyone – for help so I stood in silence for many minutes, waiting in vain for the woman’s voice that would announce the end of the stage.
Fear ebbed away, replaced by despair.
I sat down on the cold street, and started to laugh.
It began with a chuckle, then grew and climaxed with a raucous laugh that would have convinced anyone hearing it that I was deranged. When I calmed down minutes later, I sat cross-legged on the street and pondered my situation while staring off into the distance between the megascrapers. On a whim, I looked down at the lightgun resting on my lap.
I slowly became convinced that escorting the survivors to safety was the main objective, yet it was safe to assume I’d failed to clear the stage because I left something unfinished.
In my mind, I retraced my steps until I arrived at the beginning of the stage.
So that’s it….
I shook my head despondently, then released an unabashedly weary sigh as I rose to my feet, and then walked back to my carry-bag discarded on the sidewalk. Ejecting the half-spent magazine, and replacing it with a fully loaded one from the carry-bag, I slung the bag’s straps over my neck and across my body. I still trembled a little with exhaustion as I looked up at the permaglass entrance to the residential building’s lobby.
No choice but to go back.
Walking into the apartment complex, I followed the trail of bodies I’d left behind when I first cleared a path for the surviving residents, and eventually returned to the ninth floor where this stage of The Game had begun for me.
The corridor was just as I remembered it.
The corpse of the fat man rested on its oversized gut, and the body of Erina’s mother lay spilled half way out of the apartment’s gilded doorway.
Stepping up to her, I regarded the dead woman for a short while, but she failed to marry up with my memories of my mother.
It’s not her. It never was her. There was no reason to feel unsettled.
I took a deep breath, and raised the lightgun in a two-handed grip. I pressed down on the trigger until I saw the targeting light beam shine out, but was puzzled to see it skittering about nervously until I noticed how badly my hands were shaking. I was mildly surprised to realize it wasn’t exhaustion but a sudden onset of anxiety that made my hands tremble. Taking a number of deep breaths failed to appease my nerves, so I swallowed instead and decided to get this over with before the situation fully overwhelmed me.
With the lightgun ready to fire, I walked over the woman’s corpse, and then down the apartment hallway and into the living area. The signs of a struggle greeted me. There was furniture overturned and strewn about. The toddler was still lying on the ground, and missing a large part of its head through which its bodily fluids trickled onto the once pristine carpet. I doubted no amount of cleaning would ever remove the stains.
Listening to the stillness within the apartment, I cocked my head, then turned toward a hallway leading to what I believed were the bedrooms and bathrooms.
Giving myself a few moments to gather a little more resolve and a modicum of courage, I walked to the end of the hallway and faced a locked door.
Something or someone had tried smashing their way out. The frame was warped and the middle of the door was splintered out toward the hallway.
I unslung my carry-bag, checked the lightgun was loaded, chambered, and that the safety was off, then aimed the weapon at the door lock and fired half a dozen rounds that exploded and destroyed the latch. Retreating a couple of steps, I waited with the lightgun aimed at the door for a response from inside the room.
Unexpectedly, there was none and I feared I’d made a mistake, though I was compelled to follow through on my decision to return to the apartment.
With my heart pounding loudly and a grimace born from exertion, I stepped forward and kicked the door into the room. It swung upon and then forcefully banged against the wall before rebounding partway.
As I’d suspected, this was the apartment’s master bedroom, and peering inside I saw smashed furniture, bedside lamps on the floor, a tallboy toppled over and resting against the king-sized bed, and the folding doors of a walk-in wardrobe torn free of their guide rails.
I found my quarry in a dimly lit corner of the room, huddled between the bed and surrounding walls. Circling around the foot of the bed, I kept the lightgun’s targeting beam centered on the bundle of limbs that trembled violently.
The undead man, dressed in torn clothing, glared at me with sunken, glazed eyes, its face shredded by its own hands probably in a fit of some sort. Be it rage or despair, it didn’t matter to me, only the fact this was final boss I needed to defeat to end the stage and exit The Game. But now that I was close to winning my freedom, the tension and anxiety within me swelled and strangled my voice. I had to swallow twice before I could utter a word.
“Can you understand me?”
The creature with the appearance of a man continued to glare at me.
“Is this real?” I asked it. “Is everything here real? What city is this? What world—?”
It leapt at me with a strength and speed not demonstrated by any of the undead I’d encountered until now. I fired and spun away, hoping to avoid the bulk of its body. To my surprise, I did better than avoid it, evading its outreaching arms completely. However, I lost my footing and landed on my back with a dull whump that stunned me and left me winded for precious seconds.
The zombie crashed into the wall across the room, then fell heavily to the floor on all fours. Turning toward me, it reared back like a predatory beast preparing to lunge at me again.
I sat up out of sheer desperation, and fired without taking the time to aim, striking the undead man in the face and neck with a rapid succession of mini-bullets that tore away flesh and bone with every explosion. Angered and in pain, it reared back again, using a hand to shield itself. I kept the trigger down and the targeting beam centered on its hand. In seconds there was nothing left of it but a mangled bloody mass of flesh and bone that hung limply from its wrist. The zombie howled in pain, something I’d never seen the others do before, then broke into pitiful cries as it shied back away from me. Encouraged, I continued to fire away into its body, though I was supposed to be aiming for its head.
The zombie continued to retreat by crawling on its back toward the hallway.
I stopped firing while I scrambled to my feet, but then quickly resumed emptying the magazine into the pitiable creature. Having regained the upper hand, I became more selective with my shots, and crippled its legs by targeting its knees, but as I aimed at its right arm, I noticed something clutched in its hand.
A photograph? Why would it hold onto that?
Shaking away my confusion, I aimed at its elbows, firing multiple rounds into one and then the other. The explosive tipped mini-bullets bisected its arms, and again the room’s walls reverberated with the zombie’s cries, and I feared it would attract the undead I’d failed to kill that still lingered within the apartmen
t complex. Feeling the frantic need to silence it, I crouched over it and shoved the lightgun’s muzzle into its open mouth with as much strength as I could muster, breaking its teeth and jaw in the process.
“I’m sorry,” I muttered under my breath.
The zombie’s eyes glared with pained fury at me, and I started to squeeze the trigger, but this time I was held back by the accusation I read in its eyes. It held me responsible for the calamity that befell the apartment and its residents.
“You blame me for this nightmare,” I told it. “You may be right. After all, I chose to step into the booth and play The Game. I didn’t know what I was getting into, but I guess there’s only one way for me to find out the truth behind it”—I pressed down on the trigger—“and that’s to end this here…and now.”
I held the trigger down for long seconds as the lightgun discharged round after round into the zombie’s mouth and neck. The tiny bullets detonated and blew away its spine and neck musculature, effectively decapitating it. I squinted and ducked away as blood, bone, and soft tissue sprayed into the air with each explosion that caused the body to jerk on the floor like a dying fish. When I stopped firing, certain the undead was quite dead, I stared with a heavy heart at the corpse and then reached down to pull free the photograph it clutched in its right hand.
The photograph showed a smiling, cheerful family. Seated between her parents was Erina clutching her teddy bear, and beside her sat her toddler brother, Michael.
Again I felt ill, not just physically but emotionally, and the photograph fell free of my limp fingers.
Fluttering like a falling leaf, it landed on the dead zombie’s chest.
Retreating unsteadily away from the corpse, I staggered to the doorway, and then leaned my back against the doorframe. I was tempted to slide down and sit on the floor, but when I looked out into the hallway, I began to fear the outcome should the undead make a sudden and unwelcome appearance. My location wasn’t favorable with only one way in or out, and I was down to three full magazines, so I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of having to shoot my way out of the apartment.
Gun Princess Royale: Awakening the Princess, Book One Page 12
