by Noah Barnett
There was another pause in the fighting, so he crouched next to the pillar and smiled to himself. Well, well… he'd done considerably better than he thought he would. By the looks of things at least four people remained. There was Charlie, the girl, and from the sounds of combat two others on the opposite end. He wished he had a watch. The red line was a clear indication of how much time was left, but it would be nice to know exactly how long the match had been going.
A funny thing happened then. Charlie stood next to the man he'd killed, and the Five-Seven pistol began to glow. After a second it vanished in a twinkling of light, but the corpse remained. That was curious. He’d have to ask Elva about that later.
Charlie decided to risk the dash to the central hoist. He jinked left around the pillar and over a small railing. The girl near the boom aimed at him but he dodged putting the hoist in the way. Once there he considered his next move. He could climb the crane ladder for a height advantage, but that would expose him to multiple attackers. Charlie had the advantage right now, so it was better to wait for the others to push his position. He crouched next to the railing and glanced over the edge. The girl was aiming at someone on the other side as she fired three or four shots.
He used both hands to grip the pistol as he rested his forearms on the railing. Slowly he squeezed the trigger as the girl looked in his direction. Elva barked, and the top of her head disappeared in a spray of brains and red mist.
"Damn, that felt good," he thought to himself.
She'd been something like forty feet away and mostly behind cover. There was less than a minute remaining, and he moved to the hoist ladder. The red circle was only twenty feet away as he began to climb. A cab came into view. The front window was broken which had let rain water into the compartment. Someone on the other side was climbing up the second ladder. A new woman stopped partially above the gangway, but she still had a few rungs before reaching the landing. Charlie quickly fired several shots through the cab. Shattered glass flew outward as his bullets punched through the thin metal, and the girl dropped below.
Charlie reloaded with his last full magazine, while the final player moved around the base. Following the noise he crept to the edge of the gangway. A bullet ricocheted off the metal as he tried glancing over the side, and shrapnel slapped against his cheek. Quickly he pulled back to the control cab as something hot and wet ran down his chin. Reaching up he wiped at the liquid, only to discover it was his blood. That had been a mistake to peek over the edge. One that almost cost him the game. He didn't need to kill her personally, the circle would do that for him.
Seconds were left and the red circle was within touching distance of the hoist. Nearby the metal ladder rattled as someone quickly climbed it. He didn't peek this time. Instead, he knelt next to the edge and pointed the gun straight down. He fired off four rounds and withdrew. Below a body hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Darkness followed after a few more seconds.
[Match Complete]
CHAPTER SIX
Second Match
The taste of victory was sweet on his tongue as he entered the lounge. The other nine players were already in the elevator. It closed and ascended, which was fine. Charlie wanted to check his new stats. He strolled magnanimously around the large central couch to the nearest console. Placing his palm on the face it activated with his information.
_____________
Player ID - NA1339872
Registered Competition Name - None
Clan - None
Hours played - 13
Wins - 1
Losses - 1
Kills - 4
Deaths - 1
K/D Ratio - 4.0
Battle Rank - Bronze Three
Player Score - 1013
Credits - 10742c
At last, his money problems seemed practically solved with one win. He'd also jumped two ranks to Bronze Three. Silver no longer seemed so far away. Soon he'd have a new contract slot and the ability to pick a primary weapon. He sat and rather awkwardly opened his dump pouch to retrieve the extra ammo. Charlie was still riding the combat cocktail and his fingers felt clumsy as he started to reload Elva.
"During the last game, I saw a gun disappear after the player was dead."
"We always return to our Meister's," Elva said into his ear. "The developers want to make the game Digital Entity friendly. Your original character is kept safe. A clone is spawned at the needed location with any items on you." Elva added, and Charlie reached up touching his cheek which was no longer bleeding. Did that mean there was a half dozen dead Charlie's out there?
"Thankfully these precautions became unnecessary with the advent of Avatar 2.0," she continued when he didn't respond.
"Digital Entities… Avatar 2.0?" He asked in confusion. The words were foreign to him.
"You may have heard of them as ghosts," she replied. Ahh, yes he had heard the rumors, but never met one personally. That was what his roommate Alex had gone off chasing. They were people who'd uploaded their memories online. The problem was you had to die while logged into a game. Talk about burning the bridge after you. In America, it was next to impossible to obtain the modded dive-gear necessary for the transfer. If a person started to have a medical alert the systems were designed to eject the user. Even having an accelerated heart rate was enough to get you booted from the game.
"Avatar 2.0 added a unique encryption algorithm to the memory upload. Digital Entities cannot have their personal data read or altered. Useful for the game developers who wished to draw in these individuals." Elva continued as if she were reading from a promotional pamphlet.
"You're gushing," he interrupted.
"I'm sorry, I just get excited by the topic."
"Why is that?"
"Because the next step might be more intelligent and permanent NPC personalities," she replied and Charlie smirked. He suspected she was programmed to say that. It would be interesting to see how NPC's continued to develop. After he had finished loading the last magazine he pushed it into Elva's mag well. Gripping the slide he pulled back to rack the weapon. Then took a moment to reload an extra round into the mag before holstering her.
The elevator door opened at his approach, and he slapped the controls as he entered. It ascended and deposited him in the noisy game center. Everywhere a line stretched to use a console. Gun Meister was getting more popular by the day, and Charlie had noticed the influx of new players over memorial weekend. He got behind two people discussing stats.
"Endurance is the new meta," A heavily armored man said. His swat suit was high necked and flared into a pair of Kevlar pauldrons. The helmet was off revealing a mop of red hair, a roguish nose, and bright red eyes. His chest was festooned with ammo pouches, grenades, other equipment. He must have had a max strength score to carry all that gear.
"Your hit points only last until I get a shot on you," the female player replied. She grinned wolfishly and patted the high caliber sniper rifle across her chest. She was thin, even more so than Charlie with a considerable amount of skin showing. Garish tattoos covered her arms in a pallet of different styles, while her legs were a mural of grinning skulls. She had on light green armor with leather pants, kneepads, and thick boots. Across her back she carried a folded ghillie suit.
"What about you?" Someone asked. Charlie continued to eye her tattoos half in appreciation. They must have cost a fortune in credits, and he considered getting some of his own.
"Hello?" The voice asked more loudly, and Charlie finally noticed both players looking at him.
"Huh? Oh, umm… I guess it depends on the situation." He replied. Charlie hadn't thought much of his stats since starting the game. He'd been concentrating on learning how to play Gun Meister.
"Look at him, he's still a bronze. The guy doesn't even know." The girl said rolling her dark gray eyes.
"Everyone has a right to an opinion," The first guy said in his defense.
"Mine are average," Charlie admitted. Unlike many, he hadn't maxed any of his a
bilities.
"A Jack, huh. I started off like that." The first guy said.
"Jack?"
"Jack-of-all-trades. Means you can fill multiple roles if needed. I'm a tank, Val here likes to think she can snipe." The armored man said gesturing to the woman.
"A better shot than you'll ever be," she scoffed. The girl shifted her weight and put a hand on her bare hip.
"I don't need to be a good shot with Vodka here," he mused. He patted a large weapon that was now visible. It was some kind of Russian-made machine gun. "She'll remind you those tree's you hide behind are concealment not cover." The man added with an equally ferocious smile.
The line moved, and the two veteran players started a match together. Both continued to bicker as they walked towards the elevator. A team game? Charlie wasn't opposed to working with others. He stepped up to the console, activated it, and selected ‘Quick Team-Match’ from the options.
"Please enter Lobby 108," it said.
Charlie returned to the elevators and went down. The lounge was lit by neon blue lights, which was different than the solo competition rooms. There it was a deep crimson color. Sitting on the couches, a group of scantily clad women talked. Charlie scanned the small room but there wasn't another male present. The women were clothed in nearly identical black bikinis.
"Where are your Meister's?" Charlie asked.
"We are the ‘players’ you misogynistic ass," a dark haired girl snapped.
"We're all girls, here," another said.
"Girls… give me a break. Only if you mean guy.in.real.life," a short girl said in derision. This third woman had teal hair and a flat chest. Like the others, she was dressed in a ridiculously tiny bikini. He pointed at her recognizing the smurf from his first game. Charlie had expected the player to already be silver.
"You."
"I surrender," she mimicked, and he flushed in annoyance. It was his first game, how was he supposed to know everything. She laughed slapping her knee.
"Really? He tried to give up?" The others joked.
"Too bad you aren't on the other team. Would have liked trying to kill you." He said moving into the room. A clock started above the main screen, and counted down from two minutes.
"What's that?" He asked pointing to it.
"The huddle time. Each team gets two minutes to discuss general tactics. How do you not know this?"
"I've only done death matches. Won my first today." He said a little smugly, but they clapped condescendingly. "Screw you all," he muttered moving to sit down. They laughed again and he crossed his arms over his chest. After this, he was going back to death matches, because it was easier to deal with other players by exchanging bullets.
"Is there a plan?" A dark haired girl asked.
The leader pointed to Charlie and said, "Mr. Deathmatch and Remy can go right. You two flank left, and I'll take the center."
The others seemed fine with the arrangement, so Charlie was stuck with the teal haired tit-less wonder. The timer ran down to zero and darkness settled in.
[Match Started]
The setting sun hung just over the horizon. Charlie found himself within the end zone of a football field. Behind them the tall goal post stood like the statue to a forgotten deity. An explosion had destroyed half the stadium seating, and what was left had been ruined by fire and age. In the middle of the field, a gutted tank sat. A twisted partially melted radar dish sagged at its side. The missile racks atop the turret were black from fire. Surrounding the vehicle were a half dozen sandbag entrenchments. The rest of the field was torn up from a heated, and ancient battle. Grass and weeds struggled up out of the scorched ground.
Someone jabbed him in the side with an elbow. "Look lively," a girl said jogging by. Two other women were already running towards the tank. Remy slapped his ass before taking off herself. Charlie started after her as she casually zig-zagged through the grass. Across the field he could just see the heads of the other team already running forward.
Twenty yards short of the center Remy jumped into a shallow depression. He was tempted to continue another few feet to a pile of sandbags, but several bullets cut through the knee high grass close by. He abandoned that idea and quickly jumped into the shallow depression. Remy was small enough she could kneel and look over the lip, but Charlie had to lay on his back or expose most of his body to fire.
Remy withdrew her .500 Smith & Wesson Magnum, which was now painted black with white skulls over the frame and barrel. A low-profile ghost ring sight was mounted atop. She raised herself up a little and fired once. A flame blossomed before the barrel as it went off. Remy made an annoyed sound, shook her head, and sank back.
"This is going to be a long match," Remy groaned relaxing against the dirt.
"I thought you'd be silver by now," Charlie said.
"I got up to Bronze Four easily enough, but players quickly became better shots. Philip here is good at scaring the new fish but he draws in the sharks. Lost several matches while I was reloading." She said flicking open the cylinder. From within her skimpy bikini top she withdrew a fresh cartridge and inserted it.
"Why did you start over when you can just reset your stats?"
"I was platinum, but I lost my rank due to team killing. I had a flamethrower and a grenade launcher. God those were the days. The pain threshold is set quite low but people would still writhe after I lit them up. They'd scream too, that was the best part. I loved the smell of burning napalm and the delicious aroma of cooked meat." Remy said caressing the hand cannon in her grip like a lover as she spoke.
"Ok…" Charlie said. This girl was starting to sound like a freak. She pressed the pistol to her face rubbing it around her cheek.
"When I lost my rank they kicked me from the clan. Tried to join other groups but they called me some very mean names, so I was stuck going solo or reset my character. Now I get to be a cute little girl." She said with a flourishing smile. Charlie stared at the strange woman in bewilderment.
"But... you’re a guy?"
"Duh, 99% of the girls in this game are."
Remy caressed the revolver. "Hey Philip," she cooed. "How about you change forms for a quickie. We have a few minutes to burn." She asked in a coaxing voice. What the hell was this girl saying? They were in a firefight. Remy licked the barrel of the revolver before Charlie turned away. Definitely a full blown weirdo.
"Oh come on," she said in feigned annoyance. Remy purred as she pressed the gun to her face again. In a silky tongue she said, "I’ll let you do butt stuff… You know you love it."
Charlie screamed. He'd had enough of being in this fox hole. At this point, he would rather risk enemy fire than spend another second with this girl. He stood and sprinted towards the nearby sandbags. Ahead of him, two heads appeared looking in his direction, but he focused entirely on reaching cover. Bullets churned the grass around him, before one caught him in the side dropping him to the ground. He struggled to gain his feet but his right leg refused to function. Charlie pulled himself through the grass toward cover. The two enemies stood trying to get a shot, and bullets continued to kick up dirt around him.
A massive boom sounded nearby, and the head of one of his attackers disappeared in a cloud of red mist. The other quickly dropped below sight level. Slowly Charlie managed to crawl behind the sandbags. The pain was like someone insistently poking him with one of those joke buzzers. It wasn't bad, but he couldn't move his right leg in the slightest.
"Thanks for baiting them," Remy shouted from the nearby foxhole.
"Sure thing," Charlie muttered. He’d just wanted to get away from that girl, and getting shot at was not a part of the plan. He glanced over the sandbags. The ruined tank was still about ten yards away. To his left, the girls were exchanging rounds with someone. The enemy team was down a person, but his leg was crippled and steadily leaking red fluid. He'd already seen some gruesome scenes. Enough to become desensitized to the sight of blood.
The buzzer went off above, and for another minute nothing happ
ened on either side. Charlie put his back to the sandbags and glanced over again. He considered crawling the rest of the way to the tank. It wasn't far but the ground around it was a scorched no man's land. The tank was melted from the outside like a wax candle left in a summer window. The sand around the vehicle had turned into black glass.
A rock landed nearby making him jump. He looked back to see Remy doing hand signs. She pointed to herself, then to the tank, and finally with two fingers toward the enemy. Charlie hoped she wanted covering fire because he nodded.
