by Noah Barnett
"You mean you haven't noticed?" The older man asked in shock.
"No," Charlie admitted.
"Have you not questioned why this fair city is a paradise. The streets are free of litter. There is ample food, clothes, and luxuries, but not once have I seen a delivery truck on the road. Yet, all our battles take place in ancient ruins or sundered cities. Surely that should’ve made you wonder.” Montgomery said.
"I just thought it fit the setting."
"You have taken things at face value. I suppose that's to be expected of today's youth. The developers have hidden the lore of this world behind clues and subtle backdrops." Montgomery said finally stepping away from the young elementary schooler. He moved to put himself closer to Grace.
"Is that true, Elva?" He asked touching the frame of his pistol.
"They won't know either. I once spent four hours tickle torturing Grace to see if she would talk. Unfortunately, she divulged nothing but a torrent of squeals." He said gesturing to his weapon nearby. The girl blushed at the memory and flicked her fan open again.
"You were a brute," She said hiding her blushing cheeks.
"My true colors did shine that evening," Monty admitted.
"I still don't get it. You mean like… We're in a simulation within a simulation, and we fight out in the real world?" Charlie asked slowly. That was some double deep smoke and mirrors plot. It hadn't occurred to Charlie to question why there was electricity in town, but nothing outside worked.
"One of my personal theories, yes." Monty said doing his best to ignore Remy. The girl was standing on her tippy-toes trying to reach his magnificent white beard.
"Let's get into a match before Remy does something to get us all banned," Charlie muttered turning toward the console screens.
"Mustache ride…" Remy whispered following after Monty.
They started a match together. Charlie followed his companions into the elevator, which then descended. Remy continued to try and get past Grace, and the matron's eyes were starting to glow with the same dangerous glint Fara had just before she'd attacked Derek. Thankfully, the elevator disgorged them into the lobby before a blood bath started. Two other players were already waiting inside, and darkness closed in.
[Match Starting]
Charlie found himself looking upon the wizened face of Abraham Lincoln sitting in a larger than life chair. It was already evening on the east coast, and the setting sun was casting long shadows across the memorial entrance.
"Ahh, excellent. I had hoped it would send us to the Capital." Monty said from nearby.
"Why is that?" Charlie asked turning to the man.
"I've been here once before. There's an easter egg in the White House I wanted to check out. Last time I stumbled upon it by accident, but had no time to investigate." Monty said in excitement.
"Seen them, boring," Remy said from nearby.
"Well, don't spoil it for the man," Montgomery said.
"Seen who?" Charlie asked, but the older man only smiled.
"We're going to have to sprint there. The White House is about ten blocks away, and the wall will close in fast."
"What are you guys talking about?" The two men asked. Charlie hadn't paid much attention to the randoms, who were checking their rifles a few meters away.
"Sorry gentlemen, but we are taking the opportunity to investigate."
"You're running off?" They asked in disbelief.
"You can join us if you want," Monty suggested.
"Why don't we do this in a casual match?" Charlie asked jogging after the older man.
"They only show up in official games. That's been confirmed." Remy said from behind him.
Charlie jogged after the older man down the memorial steps. Soon they reached the avenue and quickly sprinted along the reflecting pool. Charlie was fast, but the old man reached the intersection ahead of them. He slid to a stop and glanced both ways. With barely a pause to catch his breath, he turned down the side street, and after ten minutes of sprinting they reached the White House. The marble facade was dark brown like a cigarette stain. Part of the iconic dome had fallen inside, and half of the structure was burned to the ground. The entire east wing was little more than a pile of blackened timbers. The tree's on the front lawn were twisted husks, and the ground was scorched glass. Charlie skidded to a halt seeing the damage to the iconic building. He'd seen Big Ben as a ruin, and watched Shanghai crumbled into dust, but it hadn't hit home like this.
"Technically, this is the third time the White House has burned down. It was torched in 1812 by British forces. Then the west wing burned to the ground on Christmas Eve in 1929." Monty said slowing to a jog.
The red circle was slowly closing in, but it was still a block away. They had some time to explore and get back. The gates to the front garden had been knocked over, and an APC was sitting on its side with spent bullet casings littering the ground around the wreck. Closer to the building two M1 Abrams sat in sandbag pillboxes. Both sixty-two ton tanks were missing their tops like someone had cut off the turrets and walked away with them.
"I've seen battle damage like this before." Charlie said moving closer to the vehicles. The cut looked like someone had melted the composite metal with a laser scalpel.
"Interesting damage indeed," Monty said stepping onto the porch. Remy continued to follow along in a half interested gait. She kicked a few bullet casings as she walked around the APC. Inside the lobby bullet holes and scorch marks crisscrossed the walls. Charlie was finally starting to see a picture form. He was reminded again of the missile tank back in that football field. It had been sitting alone in the gutted stadium surrounded by entrenched fighting positions as if they'd been making a last stand.
It became difficult to travel further inside the old mansion because of the damage. Entire sections had been blown out by grenades. Those strange straight black lines were all over, and Charlie wasn't quite sure what could’ve caused such damage. Remy continued to follow behind with a bored expression on her face.
"Which way was it?" Monty mused glancing down the hallway. The ceiling had collapsed halfway down, which blocked off access to the Presidential Wing. Monty ambled around the corner before spotting a side passage. "Ahh, this way." He said opening the way into a back stairwell which led up to the second floor. Someone had cobbled together a crude barrier of tables and chairs at the top of the landing, and Charlie struggled over the precarious pile. Monty in his excitement went ahead.
"There you are, you handsome devil." A distinguished voice said from around the corner. The Confederate paused next to a cleaning closet with a smile on his face. He pointed inside.
In the darkness, it was difficult to tell what Charlie saw. It appeared to be the remains of a futuristic set of body armor. Only it wasn't made for humans. He stepped inside the dim space for a better look. A clear face shield displayed the mummified head of an alien creature. To call it reptilian was a mistake but it's hard scaled skin had a greenish tint. It had two small predatory eyes under a ridged brow that were milky white in death. Instead of a nose it had two tiny slits. The creature's mouth was open in a final expression of pain, which showed teeth that were short but definitely carnivorous. The armored chest plate had been peeled open like a can of sausages. Inside was a blackened alien rib cage. Charlie was repulsed by the sight because it’s bones and vertebrae were in all the wrong places. Its guts had long ago decayed leaving the scaled husk inside the armor.
"It appears our friend met with a rocket propelled grenade," Monty said kicking the long green tube of a LAW launcher. "That probably damaged his suit, preventing them from finding him. They go to great lengths to collect their dead."
"Aliens?!?" Charlie asked in astonishment.
"An exciting development, no?" Montgomery asked with a sly smile on his face.
"Who are they?"
Instead of answering the old man turned and walked down the hallway. Charlie gave another glance at the alien corpse before trotting after the Confederate. They walke
d towards the ruined west wing. Most of the floor had collapsed, but the old man spryly leaped across the gap. Charlie was glad his Agility was higher than average. Several times he was forced to dash across a tiny space then throw himself over a gutted hole in the floor. After passing into the West Wing the old man dropped down to the first floor. Remy was already sitting on the Presidential Desk within the Oval Office. She kicked her red shoes against the ancient oak wood and toyed with her revolver. Next to the young school girl was a human skeleton, and it was the first time Charlie had seen one since playing the game. Despite all the destruction, all the ruin, there wasn't a single body. Now that he thought about it, the lack of any corpses was bizarre. This lone skeleton was headless, and it sat in the presidential chair facing the room. Montgomery moved to the table and pushed several stacks of water stained papers around. Finally, he picked one up, and held it out.
"You'll find the answer to your previous question here," he said, and Charlie took the sheet. It was made as if on an old typeset printer, and much of the document was damaged by water and time, but a few words had survived.
__________
Confiden…
Presidents eyes on…
Seek… elter in Langley. Craft like nothing… Massive… moon orbit. Satellites down, communicate by wire only. Roth dropshi… down, forces mobilized… Ship damaged in fighting. Cloning technolo… recovere… far adv...
Can't kill the Roth fast enough...
__________
"The Roth?" Charlie asked, and the older man smiled thinly. Monty scratched his mustache and smiled slyly.
"If they attacked us why aren't we fighting them instead of each other?" He asked in astonishment.
"Practice," Remy quipped still kicking her feet on the desk.
"I suspect the young lady is onto something. It may be why the late game is so focused on small squad combat." Monty said toying with more of the water soaked papers.
"Wait, where are they?”
"Another good question." The man said dropping the damaged documents to the desk. Charlie hadn’t seen anything resembling alien technology, ships, or that warrior back there.
"We won then. America fought them off." Charlie said defiantly. Of course America won, they always did in the movies.
"In one voice we cried out, we shall not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive!" Monty said dramatically. The silence lengthened as his words slowly sank in.
"Does that look like victory?" Monty asked pointing to the headless President.
The old Confederate took considerable pleasure in saying, "Happy Independence Day."
Charlie shook his head in confusion and turned away from the presidential desk. Aside from that single corpse, there wasn't any sign of fighting. He walked in a circle around the room with the paper, and re-read the missive several times. ‘Roth Dropship Crashed…’ If that was true America had accomplished something. The next part might be ‘cloning technology recovered.' Did all the alien vessels have that? If so it was no wonder they couldn't kill them fast enough. The aliens would just keep respawning, and Charlie tried to imagine what it would be like fighting waves of endless soldiers. Impossible, it would be like holding back a river. Charlie's musings were interrupted as the red wall appeared in the room coming towards them.
"Looks like our time is up. Should have been paying more attention." Remy said from the desk. She hopped down onto the stained carpet and holstered her revolver. Charlie dashed for the destroyed windows, but the border closed over him. He saw red for a moment before darkness encroached.
The door opened into the private lounge. Montgomery’s face was blanched and he was using the wall to support himself.
"Monty!" Charlie called moving forward to help the man, but he held out a hand. Montgomery pushed from the wall and turned towards him. With a set face he straightened his gray officer's jacket.
"Sorry, you had to witness that," he said in a controlled voice. Remy came in through another private door. She searched their expressions then moved into the lounge.
"Are you alright?"
"The excitement has drained my reserves. I'm not doing as well as I first thought," the man admitted. Monty turned still stiff backed and walked to the leather couches. He sat and placed his rifle carefully on the seat next to him. Then he turned and said, "I might have to pass on another match. Sorry for dragging you out here."
"How's your treatment going?" Charlie asked feeling for the man. He was obviously still in some pain.
"Badly I'm afraid. This new one is a stubborn demon."
"Have you considered getting digitized?" Charlie asked tentatively. The Confederate removed his gray hat and held it in his trembling fingers.
"I've tried to get into the research programs, but they won't have me, not with so much cancer riddling my body. They're probably afraid it's reached my brain, which makes me Persona Non-Grata. All I can do is undergo the treatment and pray it works." He said setting the hat carefully back on his head.
On the television screens, two men were desperately fighting against a group of five. They were running down a side street in a leap frog fashion. One remained behind aiming a vector submachine gun down the alley.
"I have a friend who works at a ghosting farm. It's run out of the Caribbean Islands." Charlie said to the older man. "He sent me a brochure. It's expensive, no… that's too kind a word for how much it costs to get in, but I could send it over to you." Charlie continued and the man looked intrigued.
"I would have to take a close look at it." The man said stroking his beard. Despite himself, he seemed very interested.
"They refer to it as a retirement center and elders resort, but they digitize people," Charlie warned and they exchanged contact information.
The two last randoms became cornered in a blind alley. Several flash bangs landed next to the dumpster they hid behind. In the bright flash, four enemy soldiers moved in. The two fired blindly around the corner hoping for a kill. A fifth person climbed onto a crashed delivery van near the alley entrance. He fired down on the duo striking one in the temple. The man collapsed to the crack pavement dropping his SMG, and the second teammate didn't last much longer.
[Match Complete]
[Team Loss]
"You fuckers cost us the game," a man spat from behind them. Charlie turned and saw the red faced player coming toward them.
"Sorry," was all he could manage at the moment. He was more concerned with his new friend than the loss of one match.
"Grace, let's head home," Monty said touching his rifle.
It began to glow. The southern belle appeared and took Monty’s hand. They stood and started toward the elevator. Monty tried to hide it, but much of his weight was carried by Grace as Remy and Charlie followed. He was done for today because he wanted to send the brochure over, and search for information on the aliens.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Love Bites
The smell of expensive coffee was the main reason Charlie came to this cafe so often, and he stopped in the doorway to breathe it in. It was an edgy, ‘I'm smarter than you' coffee shop. No less than six college students were typing away at ultra-slim laptops, and pretentiously ignoring one another. He stood for a second drinking in the atmosphere. When his lungs were suitably saturated, he advanced on the coffee counter. A barista was idly cleaning the machine, but she smiled pushing a lock of her purple hair back behind an ear.
"A large vanilla Mocha with whipped cream," He said withdrawing his wallet.
While she was making his order, he turned scanning the tables. He noticed Jennifer from work sitting alone in a back booth. She was dressed in a savagely tight black business suit. After the initial hopeful exchange a month ago they hadn't talked much. Jen had gone back to sucking blood and flaunting red dresses. Charlie had murdered and killed his way through several Silver ranks. The rest of his time was spent screwing Elva. Still, their working relationship had improved to t
he point where they'd formed a tentative acquaintance.
"Your order," the barista said sliding the paper cup across the counter. On the lid, the barista had written his name with little red hearts, which was a sign he came here way too much.
Charlie took his cup and headed toward the back of the cafe. He was about to sit down with Jennifer when he noticed her eyes. They were red rimmed with a smear of black makeup, and it was obvious she’d been crying. He steered himself instead to a table nearby and hunkered down. Jen held a mobile phone with a distant expression on her face. Her drink sat forgotten as she stared at the screen. Charlie was curious and worried at the same time. He'd enjoyed a burgeoning friendship with Jennifer, and something was going on.
Closing her red eyes, Jennifer dialed a number, and waited while it rang. Her voice was surprisingly normal for how much the phone shook. "Hey," she said keeping her introduction short. Charlie was close enough that he could just make out the person on the other end.
