by Arthur Stone
The streets were dark. The raging fires had covered the world in smoke by day, but now they lit the sky in a crimson glow. Still more shooting, sometimes nearby and sometimes far off. Screams of pain and terror, carnivorous roars and rumbles—they all sounded quite different down here than they had up above. Rock paused in the bushes by the entryway for a minute before making his way. He went for the only thing he knew: the bridge, some unknown distance away but hopefully straight down the avenue.
Rock didn’t waltz straight down the avenue, of course. It was too wide, too open, and all perfectly visible from both sides. And most of the noises came from that avenue. He moved alongside it, cutting through yards and parking lots and over fences and bushes. As he went, the feeling that a river ran somewhere nearby grew stronger and stronger. Even if he had to divert his course, he would have little trouble finding it. A riverbank was the best landmark of all.
Unfortunately, Rock never made it to the water. Perhaps he was only a few feet away. His sense of smell still worked, and he was picking up the familiar aroma of fresh water. But he failed to pick up what was coming for him. Nor did he hear it. His ears and eyes had served to warn him so many times, inciting him to dodge into a hiding spot at the first sound of clinking, stomping, slapping, knocking or, worst of all, noiseless movement betrayed by nothing but shifting specks of darkness.
The largest predators of all were out on the prowl now.
A bus appeared out of nowhere. Rock had heard its engine roaring, but he was certain it would go out, either by disappearing into the distance or by shutting off abruptly, accompanied by a sickening smash, gunshots, brakes screeching, and an inhuman roar. He had heard all variations on the theme by now. These monsters had no problem with ordinary cars. Anyone driving needed an armored vehicle.
This one was armored. It whipped onto a side street from the main avenue, the same side street where Rock had been crouched behind a parked van, intently studying a little shop across the way under the light of some enormous fire miles off. He yearned to stock up on water, and his stomach was starting to insist that it wouldn’t mind a snack, either. Of course, the store was closed, and no employees were visible inside, but Rock didn’t mind. The prevailing economic system had shifted from cash to “take whatever you want.” Assuming there was anything left.
His thoughts on looting the shop were cut short by the squealing brakes as that vehicle whipped around the corner—and began firing rapidly from its roof-mounted machine gun. By the light of its powder flash, Rock could see that it was very similar to the minibus Rock had seen near the construction site where he had encountered the soldiers. It had the same kind of steel plating and grating covering all the windows. He hadn’t seen any weapons on the vehicle back then, but they could have been hidden.
Something else was following the bus. The powder flash gave only very limited light, so Rock couldn’t see any details. Only a gargantuan black mass, impossibly fast and agile for its size. It was loud now, and undeniably deadly. Despite the hail of machine gun bullets coming at it from a hundred feet away—an easy distance even for an inexperienced shooter—the beast continued charging the minibus without so much as hesitating. The vehicle could not outpace the monster, which was going to catch it in a matter of seconds. Turning down this alley was the driver’s fatal mistake. The vehicle had lost too much speed on the turn, and there was no time to accelerate back up.
Suddenly something flared brightly behind the bus, between the monster and the intersection, and a projectile like a huge flare zipped towards the monster. It struck it in the back, deafening the area with an explosion. For a moment, it was bright enough that Rock got a good look at the creature.
He wished he never had. He would choose to lose his memory again if he could, to forget the sheer terror of the thing.
It was a good hit. The beast collapsed to the ground. Now Rock realized that the brute’s maneuver around the turn had been calculated, allowing it to slow down as a man with a grenade launched leaped out and hit the monster in the back. Taken up with the chase, the colossus had failed to see the exit.
Now the vehicle was slowing, the machine gun on its roof cooling down. A powerful spotlight kicked on and illuminated the carcass. The riders must have been turning to pick up the brave man who took the thing out.
The beast was much larger than the minibus, an overgrown elephant crossed with a giant rhinoceros and then genetically modified into a super-monster. But it wasn’t dead. It had just taken what was probably an anti-tank round to the chest, and yet a couple of seconds after the light hit it, it began to rise ominously, somehow still full of confidence, growling in anticipation. Rock was certain it would crush the attacking bus now. The vehicle had such sad aerodynamics that its zero-to-sixty was about as good as a teaspoon’s. The monster defied Rock’s expectations and pivoted, charging away from the vehicle.
Apparently, it was sorely offended at being shot in the back.
The machine gun revved up to life again, but the creature ignored the bullets slamming into it and even bursting into sparks against its armor, if Rock’s vision could be trusted. The light was limited, and everything happened too fast to see well, anyway.
Someone running away, trying to hide behind a building. It catching up to him. A scream, a human body hurtling fifty feet through the air and slamming into the pavement, then rolling with a metallic clanging. The monster stopping, growling, slowly swaying, moving towards the limp body.
Those in the vehicle realized that it was their turn. The engine roared and the machine gun continued to fire, the spotlight went out, and the bus turned into a yard, where more shots rang out—doubtless another encounter.
But Rock was not watching the bus. His attention was fixed on the monster and the grenadier. For some reason, the fiend was unsteady as it approached. It kept stopping and apparently trying to look behind it, then began to collapse, moving on all fours for the first time. When it reached the body, it growled loudly, bent further over, and hit the attacker so hard he flew another thirty feet down the alley, very close to where Rock was hiding.
Dammit, as if this wasn’t traumatic enough, now that thing’s going to notice me!
But no—it seemed the monster had spent the last of its strength on that final slap. Whether that had been a grenade launcher or something else, it had hammered this beast. It tried to stand but collapsed onto its side, then its stomach, then scratched its gargantuan claws noisily along the pavement as if it were moving forward, but it made no progress.
Everything went quiet then. The monster even ceased its rumbling.
Now that the car was gone, the place was as dark as before. Rock had not been the best at predicting the future in this world, so he was hardly certain that the monster was actually dead. Maybe it was just resting for a few minutes. Maybe it was even considering Rock’s own hiding spot right now. So he made no hurry to leave.
“Hey, you there...” said a voice in agony.
It was the grenadier. Rock couldn’t believe it. How could anyone still speak after a maiden flight like that? The monster was just too strong, not to mention those claws. The man must be a clump of minced flesh shrouded in scraps of rags by now.
“I know you’re there, man,” the poor man continued.
Holy mother, I’m not imagining it. That mound of meat is really talking to me.
“Come... come over here. I have to... tell you something, please. Something important.”
Rock gulped and considered dashing off into the darkness, but then straightened and walked over to the corpse, like that jungle boy hypnotized by the boa constrictor. He simply could not refuse, even though his legs felt like they might object and suddenly tear themselves off his body to get away.
“Closer! Sit by me.”
In the dense clouds covering the night sky, a red moon crept over the buildings, illuminating what could hardly be called a living man.
His legs were bent unnaturally, clearly broken in multiple places. His
arms had been either torn clean off or crushed and bent behind his back. Snapped ribs stuck out from his clothes and vest like broken pencils, his skull was crumpled, and a single eye pushed out of its socket stared at Rock.
How could he still be alive? How could he be talking?
A hole in the nightmare’s form opened, and the voice continued.
“Zero? Is that you? Alive? Never made it to the bridge, huh. Well, I’m dead. We didn’t know what we were dealing with. Elites were here, and so many others. Never been like this before...”
It was clearly one of those strange soldiers he had met near the unfinished high-rise, but he had no idea which one. No one would even recognize him as human at this point.
Rock nodded and forced himself to speak. “Still alive, and heading to the bridge, like you told me. Forgive me, but I’m not in debt to you for anything, so I’d better go. You made a lot of noise, so who knows what’s on the way.”
“There’s an elite over there. A serious elite. Only thing that might come is another elite. The smaller ones won’t come. And there aren’t many elites in these parts. So please... help me.”
Rock didn’t know what to say to that. The guy was way beyond bandages and aspirin. But the corpse seemed to be talking sense, even though Rock didn’t understand. He added, “I can hold out one minute longer, maybe two. I have to. Get my knife... go over to the ghoul... and get the pearls. You can have all the rest, but bring me the pearls...”
Rock shook his head. “I don’t get it. What ghoul? What pearls?”
“Goddammit, that’s right. You’re a zero.”
“I know.”
The dying man sighed, his one eye bulging. He strained his form and rattled off, in a remarkably normal voice, “Take my knife and go up to the elite. It’s got a fungus on the back of its head, like a big mushroom on a birch tree. It’s covered on the top and sides with bone, but there’s a way to get to it from below. Cut into it and pull out everything you find inside. Pick out the shiny balls. You’ll see what I mean. They’re round and warm to the touch. Beautiful things that come in black, red, even green. Put them in my mouth. You can take the rest, but give me the pearls. There’ll be plenty of things in there, enough for you and me both. Come on now... get going...”
After bolstering himself for that speech, he had no strength left. The words he had spoken must have been crucial. Rock looked around the broken chest of this man who refused to give into death and shook his head. “No knife here. No nothing, in fact.”
“In... my left boot, I have another one... Flashlight in the right...” the man said this so quietly that it took some guesswork to figure out what he said. Both of his boots were intact, and Rock seized a short knife from the left and a pencil-thin flashlight from the other, then got up. He fought back his apprehension, trying not to let his teeth chatter as he walked towards the dead monster. Still not quite convinced he was dead.
The beast was enormous. He knew that, and yet it surprised him. As he approached, it seemed five times bigger than it ever had. By this point, Rock was wound up tightly enough to snap like an overtuned guitar string.
Its angular head was the size of a large refrigerator. If the man hadn’t told him where to look for this mysterious fungus, it might have taken him an hour or more. Rock located the sac and placed his stool leg—the only weapon he had managed to find in the apartment—onto the pavement.
He shone the flashlight at the right spot and tried to cut into the dark bone-hooded mass. It didn’t work. The knife just scratched it. Cursing softly, he put the flashlight into his mouth and used both hands this time. The placement of the fungus was inconvenient. It was accessible only from below, and the sharp horny peaks sticking out of several places in the monster’s head got in the way. He instinctively poked into one of the many grooves that split the “mushroom” into lobes. It took considerable effort, but at last the point of the knife went deeper.
A few seconds later, the sack was open, split along the same groove that had first accepted the knife. There was no blood, not even an unpleasant smell, but Rock wrinkled his face in disgust as he plunged his hand inside. He found a tangled mass of dry fibers inside, crumpled it into his fist, and pulled it out.
At that moment, the beast shuddered, and something like a sob escaped the monster’s open mouth. Rock leaped back so suddenly that his knee screamed, caused him to lose his balance and slam his tailbone right onto the pavement.
He didn’t even wince. The situation was so nerve-wracking that pain had retreated to some unknown place. Rock wanted to follow, too, before any real trouble began. But after nearly giving Rock a heart attack, the beast was silent. For some reason, the man knew that was its end. He realized what had troubled him so much as he inspected the rear of the beast’s head, too. It had been the quiet echoes of the creature’s mighty heart. He had heard them subconsciously, too subdued to notice, but there. Now, they were gone.
The dying man wheezed, as if urging him own. He didn’t have long now. Rock snapped to attention and dumped the mass of black webbing onto the pavement. He sorted out the small objects inside. There were dirty green ovals that looked like tiny grapes. One or two hundred of them, in fact. They didn’t look like pearls, and he could hardly imagine pouring all of them into the dying man’s mouth. Dozens of pea-sized balls came with them, but they looked too plain, like they were just made of tightly pressed sugar. Then there were objects that looked like grains or nuts, and rough star-shaped objects disturbingly similar to tiny Christmas cookies.
Aha. A shiny black ball, warm to the touch. And another two, one red and the other green in color. Since when did pearls come in these colors? Rock had no idea what any of these were, but these three were more like pearls than any of the others.
He started to suspect himself of profound naivete, though, as he searched through random garbage growing in a mushroom on the back of a monster’s head. What kind of moron was he? He could be looking for a decent weapon. The broken man must have dropped a pistol, at least. But now he’d be running around town with a stool leg, some underripe grapes, and meaningless yellow balls. What a find.
Rock did internally realize that all of these treasures, or most of them anyway, were probably quite valuable in this insane world, since they were coveted even by dying men.
But the realization could have come at a better time. The grumbling noise above his head made him forget everything besides his own mortality. Rock didn’t even have to look up to realize that one of those dark monstrosities had crept up to him, virtually silent despite its size, as the flashlight had announced the human’s presence to the entire neighborhood.
Assuming the dying man was correct, this monster would be as large as the one lying slain underneath him, since the smaller monsters were too scared to approach even the carcass of an “elite.” Without a moment’s hesitation, Rock rolled, hurling his flashlight at the new threat as he moved under the truck near the store. His tailbone clipped the edge, and his unhappy knee slammed into the pavement along the way, but a short moment later, he was under the heavy vehicle.
The move might not have saved him, but he knew it had bought him some time.
Until a savage blow struck the truck. With the sheer force of the blow, Rock was surprised the vehicle didn’t just fly off into the distance. He realized he had bought himself approximately zero seconds. If the creature lacked the strength to knock the vehicle away, it could still tear it to shreds. Nothing that stood between it and the coveted man flesh would last long.
So what do I do now? Climbing out from under the vehicle was surrender without a fight, plain and simple. But how could he fight that thing with just a knife and...
In his other hand, he held three balls, which he had reflexively gripped tight. One black, one red, one green. They seemed the least likely weapons in the world, but that man who had lain there impossibly crippled, somehow clinging to the very edge of the void, had urged Rock to take anything and everything he wanted except those pear
ls. And to put those pearls in his mutilated mouth.
His chance was slim, but it was still a chance. Some insane sadistic psychopath ruled this world, so who knew what strange unknown rules it might have? If it really was a game, which Rock still doubted, then gleaming balls that dropped from the head of a powerful monster might restore full health, give temporary invincibility, or even teleport the player to a safe place. Valuable possibilities indeed.
The truck shuddered from another blow and began to creak. The monster was turning it over.
The hell do I do? Which one do I swallow?
All at once? That was excessive, maybe. But it was more likely to do something helpful.
If it did anything at all. Perhaps the man had been gripped by a dying delirium and had just happened to find a bystander half-witted enough to listen.
The truck began to turn, and Rock threw all three spheres into his mouth, clench his eyes tight, and heard one stupid thought flood into his mind. Yuck, these are filthy. I forgot where they’ve been.
Nothing happened. He shrank back, preparing himself to be torn, shredded, crushed to bits, and smeared into a butter-thin layer of pavement paste.
Instead, his body convulsed into a single, unbearable cramp. The last thing Rock heard before collapsing into the familiar darkness was the cracking of his bones. They were broken by his own muscles, gripped by unimaginably strong convulsions.
Attention: you are dead. You have lost one Strength point.
Note: dying causes you to lose 5 to 50% of all base and auxiliary stat progress points, with a minimum reduction of 1. When you lose stat levels, you risk losing your main level progress and any associated achievements. Time to respawn: 102 seconds.
What the hell had that been?
Chapter 8
Life Four: Bridge of Wonder
Welcome, Novice. You are joining the Continent. Revive location: Cluster 197-33-91. Region: West Coast. Current revives remaining: 96 lives (initial value minus 3).
