Melee

by Wyatt Savage

  “I can’t see very well, Sue,” I said.

  “You have the option of enhancing your vision,” Sue replied.

  Before I asked how, a box popped up on my HUD with an icon for a device that looked like a set of night-vision goggles. I mentally clicked on the box and my vision became monochromatic and tinged green.

  “You have the ability to upgrade to a system that uses a digital complementary metal-oxide semiconductor imaging sensor.”

  “I literally have no idea what you just said.”

  “A full-color system that turns night to day.”

  “Do I have enough points to get that?”

  “No.”

  Grumbling, I noticed an image of a hammer next to the night-vision goggles icon. I highlighted the hammer. “What’s that?”

  “Another participant mode.”

  “What?”

  “Builder’s Mode, for lack of a better word.”

  “What does it do?”

  “Provides an upgrade to the participant which allows him or her to build things in rapid fashion using tesseracts and other materials.”

  “Do I have enough points to get that?”

  This time Sue didn’t respond, but the box next to the icon blinked, revealing that it would cost 300 points to obtain the Builder Mode. I was too poor to afford any of the cool upgrades.

  I blinked away the boxes and stared through my new, oldschool night vision. It took me several seconds to adjust, but then I got the hang of it.

  I crabbed back, running down over a dirt path and skidded to a stop when I saw the figure emerging out of the brush.

  The one moving toward me with menacing purpose.

  The one holding a gun.

  18

  I brought my shotgun up into the face of a woman.

  It was Noora.

  Her clothes and face were smeared green, and she clutched her own gun, a weird-looking thing that was obscured in the gloom. Still, the weapon was aimed at my head and I scanned the shortened version of her stats which read:

  Species: Homo Sapiens

  Level:1

  Class:Fighter

  Health:8/10

  I flipped off my night vision and saw a nasty gash on her forearm, which had diminished her strength. She was down two health points.

  “Put the gun down, Noora.”

  She shook her head. “You first.”

  My gaze narrowed and I saw the gun appeared to be made of orange plastic. The sight of the gun triggered a SecondSight prompt that blinked:

  Nerf Zombie Strike – Survival Systems Scavenger

  I lowered my shotgun.

  Good lord, Noora was actually trying to use a Nerf gun.

  “That’s not even a real gun,” I said.

  She lowered her gun too, and I grabbed the thing away from her. It was indeed a Nerf rifle. Completely harmless.

  “Don’t kill me,” she said.

  “I won’t,” I replied.

  “I’m only worth 25 points anyway.”

  I tossed her faux gun into the trees. “What happened?”

  She slumped against a tree and slid to the ground. “I h-heard those people, the neighbors, that m-mob coming for you,” she said. “I heard that siren and saw the lights and then it happened.”

  “What?”

  “Before I help you my p-parents just e-exploded,” she stammered, rubbing her face, wavering on the edge of hysteria.

  “Same thing happened to mine.”

  “And then that voice—”

  “Sue.”

  She looked up, her eyes glazed with exhaustion. “What?”

  “I call mine Sue.”

  “I don’t have a name for mine yet,” she said, her voice hitching with grief. “Jesus. Should I?”

  “Your choice.”

  “The voice said the game was beginning, and that in order to reach another level, to make it out of the game alive, I’d have to kill people.”

  “Apparently those are the rules.”

  “Then I don’t want to play.”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  She shook her head. “We always have choices, Logan.”

  “Then I choose to get the hell out of here.”

  “What does it matter?” she asked. “Why not just end it now?”

  “Because I’m not giving those alien fuckers the satisfaction and I promised my dad I wouldn’t give up. I’m gonna make them pay for what they’ve done.”

  “You can’t beat them.”

  “I can sure as shit try,” I said.

  I started moving down the path and she called out to me. “Where are you going?”

  “My old store. Barry’s Market. You know it?” I asked.

  “You mean that crappy dollar store down the street?”

  “It’s not that crappy,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know it,” she replied with a nod.

  “You can come if you want. I’ll keep you safe as much as I can. You can hide out with me.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’m gonna sit here for a while,” she said.

  “You might die if you do,” I said.

  “Maybe that’s for the best,” she said, a faraway look in her eyes. “I mean look at me. I’m not cut out for this.”

  “Don’t give up,” I said. “No matter how bad it gets, do not give up. You might be surprised at what you’re able to do.”

  I held her look and she nodded.

  Leaving Noora there, I navigated via the HUD, tiptoeing out of the woods and took stock of my surroundings. There was a sidestreet in front of me that ran east to west. Off to the east was another neighborhood, and to the west was the strip center where the store was.

  I crouched in the shadows and waited for something to happen.

  It didn’t take very long.

  Several large machines rumbled past. A phalanx of pimped-out SUVs and trucks on huge tires that were full of men and women in all sorts of battle attire, and what looked like homemade armor.

  Most of the machines were covered in metal scrap or mesh and the people inside, including those in the truck beds, opened fire on anything that moved.

  I saw them let loose with a minigun that shredded a quartet of cars filled with people trying to flee the neighborhood, while others fired grenade launchers at houses, as people jumped down from the trucks to cut down any survivors with automatic weapons or machetes.

  “Points, baby!” a rotund man strapped inside a flamethrower screamed as he hopped out of a truck. “Oh, yeah, it’s all about the points, motherfuckers!”

  The man, who was a hundred and fifty feet away, fired up his weapon and barbecued a car filled with teenagers who tried to swerve around him. The car, in flames, slammed into a tree and exploded as the rotund man was engulfed in a cone of bluish-yellow light.

  “What’s happening, Sue?”

  “The participants are fighting each other. You may be able to use that to your advantage.”

  “I meant about the big guy with the flamethrower.”

  “He appears to have acquired enough experience points for a purchase.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “As I noted before, you can exchange experience points for weapons, gear, and enhanced skills.”

  I watched as the rotund man laughed and held up his hands.

  Something glinted and then came a burst of light.

  The rotund man vanished for an instant, only to reappear entirely encased in what looked like a chrome battle suit, his head hidden behind a helmet with a black visor. On his back were strapped two enormous tanks, and in his hands was a firing shaft tethered to a metal conduit that connected the shaft to the tanks.

  He laughed and opened fire with the weapon, flaming balls shooting out of the end of the firing shaft, setting a stand of trees on fire. The man pumped his fists and as I narrowed my gaze, his stats popped up on my HUD:

  Species: Homo Sapiens

  Level:1

  Class:Fighter

  Ragetag: Immo
lator

  Health:10/10

  Ragetag Attributes: Orbital Hellfire mechanical incendiary device allows user to fire streams of liquid fire at distance of 55 meters; adept in ranged combat and close assault.

  The man climbed back into his truck, which sped off.

  “That participant just acquired an Immolation Ragetag,” Sue said.

  “Let me guess. More rules?”

  “Upgrades…perks you might call them,” she said. “There are an infinite number of Ragetags one can acquire in exchange for points during Level 1, including, among others, Drift, Bounder, Immolator, and Hater.”

  “What’s Hater?”

  “A Ragetag is a force-multiplying mode that places the user in a trance-like state of fury where he or she is immune to death and insensitive to pain for precisely four minutes. The Hater Ragetag brings with it certain…kinetic properties, and increases brute strength and destructive power. Be aware that it is fast-acting and eventually reduces stamina.”

  “How much do the tags cost?”

  “Each one is a different price. For instance, Bounder, which enables the user to jump twenty feet into the air, costs one hundred and seventy-five points.”

  “That’s the most expensive?”

  “The least.”

  Great. If I wanted to improve my situation I was going to have to find a way to get some serious points.

  “There is a vehicle approaching,” Sue said. “An automobile driven by three individuals, one of whom is pregnant.”

  “So what?”

  “If you destroy the vehicle you can obtain 100 experience points.”

  “But three people only equal 75 points,” I said.

  “There is a bonus to killing someone who is with child.”

  “How can someone be with child when you have those age requirements?”

  “They are not yet born so they are worth extra points.”

  “That’s sick.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “There’s nothing to understand. It’s sick, insane, disturbing to even think about killing a pregnant lady. There’s no fucking way I’m doing that.”

  “There are also bonus points for killing those who are different, neuro-atypical for instance.”

  “What?”

  “Handicapped.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “And additional points for destroying what your people call hospitals, places of worship, rehabilitation facilities, libraries…”

  “There’s nobody who would destroy those kind of places.”

  “It is already happening,” Sue replied. “In Washington, D.C. for instance, an entire hospital full of sick and wounded was liquidated shortly after the Melee began. Over five thousand points were awarded to the responsible participant.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  “Because there are always some who find themselves in the Melee, Logan.”

  She continued to prattle on about this and I was silent, shaking my head at the notion of how anyone could snuff out a hospital. Slumping to the ground, I ran a finger down the .45.

  “You guys are fucked up, Sue,” I said.

  “I do not understand.”

  “You, the Noctem, you’re…evil.”

  “I am one with the Noctem, but not Noctem.”

  “Then what the hell are you?” I asked.

  “Something else entirely.”

  “Then why are you working for them?”

  “I am not from this world or even one in this galaxy. My people were conquered long ago, my lands destroyed, my offspring kidnapped. I was killed, but my spirit was captured. They have the ability to do that,” Sue said. “They can kill and capture you at the same time.”

  “God…”

  “My future is one of everlasting servitude.”

  “I guess…I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. That is the way of the universe. The Noctem have a creed: Soon all shall know the peace of the great void. True virtue lies in the shedding of blood. The engine of the universe is lubricated with the souls of warriors.”

  “That’s the worst creed I’ve ever heard.”

  Sue was silent and I brooded on her words. “You said something, Sue.”

  “I said many things, Logan.”

  “About how the Noctem can kill and capture you at the same time.”

  “If they so choose, yes.”

  “What about the people who were turned into green dust?” I asked.

  “What about them?”

  “Have the Noctem captured them?”

  “Some, yes,” Sue replied.

  “What’s done to them?”

  “Certain ones are…repurposed,” Sue answered.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Their spirits are incorporated into larger constructs. Mostly what you might call biomechanical creatures.”

  “Monsters? They’re fucking putting dead humans into monsters?”

  Sue was silent.

  “Why the hell would the aliens do that, Sue?”

  More silence from Sue. I huffed and kicked at the ground, not wanting to believe it. Something screamed close by and I loped off, keeping to the shadows, trying to get to the store as fast as I could.

  I stole through an alley behind the strip mall, keeping to the darkness cast by the immense garbage dumpsters.

  The sounds of battle were all around: the chattering of automatic weapons, the periodic boom of shotguns, the concussive thud of bombs or explosives detonated. And coming seemingly from every direction were the sounds of screams and wailings and people calling out for someone, anyone, to end their suffering.

  Slipping through one of the alleys between the buildings, I stopped and peered out over the parking lot.

  Several junked cars were on fire and I could see people engaged in a running gunbattle down on the main drag, but otherwise the coast looked clear.

  I checked my cellphone, but there was no signal.

  Slinking around the side of a brick wall, I ran over to the front of the store and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

  “Hey!”

  I jumped a foot in the air.

  When I landed, I spun to see Lish.

  She was limping and her clothes, jeans and a tight compression-style shirt (with her American flag fist pin), were bloodsoaked. In her hands was an axe and the blade was shiny with gore. I scanned her with my HUD, but was surprised to see that her stats didn’t pop up.

  “What happened to you?” I asked.

  She waved a hand. “Don’t even ask.”

  She moved past me and used the other end of the axe to tap on the store’s front door. Something moved inside the store and I tensed. A silhouette rose up inside and approached the door as I white-knuckled my shotgun.

  Then I heard the sound of keys jangling and Dwayne’s terrified face appeared. I was surprised to see that he’d buzzed most of his hair off.

  Dwayne opened the door and we just stared at each other for several seconds.

  His glasses were cracked, his shoulder was oozing blood, and his stats showed that his health was 7/10 due to the shoulder wound.

  We hugged and then he motioned for us to get inside.

  “Hurry and up and get inside,” he said, catching his breath. “They’ll be back soon.”

  19

  Dwayne locked the front door and pulled several displays of Christmas ornaments in front to shield us from any prying eyes.

  “Okay, so let me be the first to say it,” Dwayne said. “This thing was way worse than I thought it would be.”

  “It’s going to get better,” I said.

  “How do you figure?”

  “Because the good people outnumber the bad.”

  He scratched his head. “Yeah, but what happens if the bad ones got all the guns?”

  The three of us moved swiftly down the edibles aisle and my HUD began listing everything in sight as potential chattel. We grabbed boxes of
crackers, cereal, sodas, and whatnot to snack on.

  I pointed a soda in Dwayne’s direction. “You said ‘they’ll be back soon,’ Dwayne. Who’s ‘they’?”

  “They is they, Logan,” he answered, pointing to his bloody shoulder. “The same ones that gave me this.”

  “Who did it?”

  Dwayne ripped open a box of cereal and poured some in his mouth. He chased the cereal with some Mountain Dew, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “A bunch of nutjobs in a tricked-out, armored Prius. A Prius for Crissakes! The jokers shot at anything on two feet. Thank God I only weigh a hundred and fifty pounds. Small target.”

  Several seconds of silence stretched between us.

  “They’re pitting us against each other,” Lish said. “Battle-royale style.”

  “If you want to make it out alive you have to get points,” Dwayne said, exhaling, looking utterly spent. He glanced at me and pointed at my clothes. “What’s that green shit by the way?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “The people who didn’t make the age cutoff,” Lish said. “Old people, children…”

  “My parents,” I said.

  “My nieces and nephews,” Lish said, blotting a smudge of green from her cheeks.

  Dwayne’s head hung. “I never even made it home. I was hanging out with friends when it happened and then my phone died.”

  “All the phones are dead.”

  “My folks, Logan,” Dwayne said, looking up. “They – I mean, they were over the cutoff…”

  “I’m so sorry, man.”

  “The fuckers,” Dwayne hissed, smacking his hands together, reaching for his vape pen. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the aliens might be inserting our dearly departed into the bodies of monsters.

  I set my shotgun and pistol down on the ground. Lish did the same with her axe. Dwayne placed the only weapon he had on the ground as well, a huge can of bug spray and a plastic lighter. “It was the best I could do,” Dwayne said. “I didn’t have enough points to get any of the cool weapons.”

  I flung a look at Lish. “You can buy things.”