I cursed as I cradled my broken finger, relieved to still be alive. Pain from the back of my leg burned, and I tugged at the shotgun with my left hand. It took some work with only one decent hand, but I eventually pulled the shotgun from the bear’s mouth. Then I snarled disgustedly when I noticed the weapon’s barrel was crumpled and bent from the impact of the bear’s jaw closing down upon it.
I dropped the now useless shotgun as I sarcastically asked the deceased bear, “I don’t suppose you at least have any loot?”
When a window popped up over the bear, I was only half surprised.
Welcome to video game world.
The window contained a stack of bear meat and a juvenile bear pelt. With a thought, my Inventory window opened, and I tried to shove the loot from the window over the bear into my Inventory with a dragging motion. Only the bear meat moved into my Inventory window, so I tried again.
This time the loot window flashed red, and a new notification popped up.
Juvenile Bear Pelt corrupted due to incomplete System integration. This item is not available to be looted.
I sighed. That figured.
Painfully, I pushed myself to my feet with the ruined shotgun. My right index finger was a swollen mass of dark blue and purple flesh, but I could still move the rest of my hand without too much pain. I’d have to splint it with the first aid kit I kept in my car with all of my extra gear.
Then I paused, looking at the title of the loot window that still hovered over the bear.
Black Bear Cub.
Cub.
About the time I pieced together that this was bad news, an earthshaking roar echoed distantly through the forest. The rumbling sound vibrated in the hollow of my chest, and I heard the pain and anger that filled the bellow.
This time, I didn’t even try to locate the source.
I turned and limped into an agonizing run.
Chapter 3
My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I stumbled through the woods on one good leg, all too slowly navigating the path back the way I’d come. The enraged roars grew closer as their source crashed through the forest behind me. I could only imagine how large the creature pursuing me must be as I heard trees shattering and the lumbering footfalls of the massive creature. I dared not look back and pushed myself to move faster.
I reached the edge of the forest and staggered across the unkempt lawn. When I got to the broken window, I placed both hands on the windowsill, and my broken finger screamed at me as I vaulted up into the house. A few pieces of glass dug into my hands, but I was far more worried about the roaring monster chasing me than the pain in my hands.
I turned to look back at the forest just in time to see an even more massive bear burst out of the treeline. If the juvenile bear had been the size of a small pony, this bear was sized more like a truck. A lifted, extended cab, heavy duty truck with dual rear wheels.
Just like the younger bear, the enraged mother was completely fixated on me, and the beast’s eyes blazed red as the creature charged forward.
The house shuddered as the beast impacted, and I stumbled backward as cracks appeared around the window through which the bear’s head jutted into the house. The massive jaw snapped shut a foot shy of where I stood. I smelled the nauseating carrion scent of the bear’s breath, even over the chemical smell that still permeated the house.
With my pistol lying discarded somewhere back in the forest, I lacked a ranged weapon to fight the massive creature. I sure as hell wasn’t going to try to hit the thing with my extendable baton or a folding pocket knife. Instead, I grabbed one of the cans of paint thinner from where they were stacked along the dining room wall. As hard as I could, I flung the can at the bear. The can crumpled as it collided with the bear’s snout, and the liquid inside splashed out over the creature. The bear snarled and pulled back slightly.
I scooped up another can and launched it at the bear, followed quickly by two more. Each impact drenched the bear further, and it flinched with each impact, the harsh chemical smell clearly leaving it unsettled but not actually causing damage.
The bear rallied and launched itself at the window again. The house rumbled dangerously, and the corner of the window gave way as the bear pushed to get farther inside. I backed up toward the kitchen, away from the bear’s snapping jaws.
I continued to throw cans of paint thinner at the bear, which only enraged the beast further. All signs of intelligence had fled from the bear’s eyes. It was consumed by the desire to tear me apart. The maddened creature had pushed its shoulders completely through the wall, wedging itself inside the building as it strained to reach me.
As sickening as the bear’s breath had smelled, the eye-searing fumes of meth lab chemicals were building up again now that the window was plugged by a bear with its fur matted down by paint thinner. Then I paused, struck by inspiration despite the thrashing beast that continued to force itself through the side of the house.
“This is a bad idea,” I muttered as I pulled the emergency flare from my belt.
I removed the end cap and flicked open the striking surface on it. I gripped the flare tightly with my right hand pointing away from my body, then I ground the striker against the end with a flick of my wrist, just like lighting a giant match. The flare ignited with a hiss and filled the room with an infernal glow. Flame streamed from the end of the flare, and the bear jerked its head away as it recoiled from the sudden bright light.
I stepped forward as the bear struggled to retreat from the flare in my hand, but it had pushed too far into the house and was stuck in the window frame. Finding that retreat was not possible, the bear lunged forward once more. I activated Hinder, now that the bear was so close, and the beast slowed just enough that I dodged as its massive jaws snapped shut right in front of me. Then I lunged forward and stabbed the lit flare into the bear’s snout.
Flames burst up from the point of impact and raced to cover the bear in a living blanket of fire. I stumbled backward, repelled by the heat, and the bear howled as it reared up. The creature shook its head up and down, first off the ceiling then the floor, in an attempt to extinguish the searing flame. The only thing the flailing beast accomplished was spreading the conflagration around the chemically infused room.
I coughed and struggled to breathe through the smoke as I crawled through the kitchen and out into the hallway. Behind me, the blaze caught on the floor and climbed the walls. The bear wheezed and whined from the midst of the inferno, the broiling air searing it from the inside as it breathed.
I dragged myself around the corner of the hallway and pushed myself back onto my feet as I neared the front door. I turned the door handle, but before I could pull the door open, the house shook as the chemical stockpile in the kitchen exploded. I glanced back down the hallway, then barely squeezed my eyes shut before a wave of flame washed over me.
The searing force bashed me face-first into the door, and I felt my nose shatter an instant before the door gave way from the force of the explosion. I was flung from the house, airborne momentarily before skipping off the roof of the orange sedan and crashing onto the cement driveway with an impact that drove the air from my lungs. My momentum scraped me along the concrete before I slowed to a halt a few inches from the street at the end of the driveway.
I gasped and rolled onto my side as blood from my broken nose streamed down my face. On my status in the corner of my vision, my health pool blinked red for long moments before it slowly ticked upward. I lay there gulping air for several minutes until I finally caught my breath and my health no longer sat in the red.
An experience notification blinked in the corner of my vision. The angry mama bear must have died in the explosion, just before I was thrown from the building. I was only still alive because of the increased Constitution from leveling up earlier.
I sat up and looked at the house. The building blazed merrily, and smoke billowed into the overcast sky. Other smoke trails, some near and some far, reached skyward. Gunshots echoed in the
distance as the apocalypse spread its misery liberally, and I had the feeling that many would not live to see tomorrow.
Chapter 4
I opened the driver’s door on my Explorer and leaned inside, having finally made it back to my car after looting what was left of mama bear. Most of the body had been consumed by flames from the still burning meth lab, but I’d added a few more chunks of bear meat and strips of bear pelt to my Inventory, in addition to some sharpened claws and a handful of giant bear bones.
I had a hunch about what would happen, but I slipped my key into the ignition and turned it anyways.
Nothing. Not even a click.
I sighed, disappointed but not surprised. One of the drill instructors during Marine Corps Recruit Training had often spouted a platitude that applied here. I could almost hear his voice shouting in my head, “Once is coincidence, twice happenstance, but three times is enemy action.”
After the taser failed to taze and I found my smartphone dead, I’d suspected that anything electronic would be fried. With no phones, there would be no calling for help. Everyone in the world was now on their own with only the resources and people they could reach quickly.
Things clearly worked differently now.
It might have been about a half hour since I had blown up the house, and in that time, my broken finger had set itself and my shredded hamstring had knit itself back together.
I grabbed a granola bar and a water bottle from my center console, then I closed the driver’s door and walked around to open the back of my Explorer as I snacked. My vehicle was a used police interceptor model and the rear bed contained a low-profile vault system. I twisted the combination dial on the vault and the lock clicked open, which allowed me to pull out a padded drawer filled with weapons and ammunition.
A sudden chill ran down my spine and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. I felt the odd sensation of being watched.
I grabbed a Colt 1911 pistol from my armory drawer and slipped in a loaded magazine, then I spun around with the pistol at the ready as I looked for whoever was watching me. My eyes carefully traced over the houses in the neighborhood, but nothing stood out. I waited for several minutes before the sensation finally faded. Whatever had been watching me was gone, but I had seen no sign of it.
Without being able to do anything about the mysterious watcher, I slipped the pistol into my empty thigh holster before I replaced the 9mm filled magazines on my utility belt with .45 caliber ones. Once finished with the ammo, I looked over the rest of the drawer. I doubted that most of the less-than-lethal options I had would be of much use in this new world. I still had a few decent choices though.
A sheathed combat knife replaced the empty taser holster on the chest of my plate carrier, and I pulled the pouch with the zip-tie restraints off my belt, leaving it on top of the weapons vault. The dead flashlight, useless taser cartridges, and empty flare holder joined the pile of discarded gear.
I dug through the accumulated junk on top of the vault and pulled free a small backpack. The khaki-colored pack was my bug-out bag and was filled with a first aid kit, a change of clothes, a few military surplus Meals-Ready-to-Eat, and a stainless-steel water bottle. I strapped a tactical axe to the side of the pack before I swung the bag onto my back and tightened the shoulder straps.
Next, I lifted a Remington 870 breaching shotgun from the vault and settled the sling over my head. If I ended up in a situation where I needed to drop the weapon, the sling was designed to pull it out of the way so that I could still use my hands without losing the gun.
Finally, I grabbed a pouch of 12-gauge shotgun shells and looped it onto my belt where the zip ties had been. I gave the back of my vehicle one last look before I slid the vault drawer shut then closed up the back of my Explorer.
With my mundane needs addressed, I brought up my new character sheet. The first thing I noticed was that next to each of my attribute scores was a second value within parentheses. The second number was significantly larger than the first and, after staring at the screen for a minute, I realized that they were the target values I needed to reach to meet the minimums for the Class. Only when I’d raised all of the stats to the noted value would I gain access to my Class Skills.
For now, I had two attribute points to spend. After the automatic points had been assigned from the levels I’d gained so far, my stats were currently almost evenly distributed. Since my gear strongly favored ranged combat, I decided I needed to maximize my dexterity and accuracy. I dropped a point each into Agility and Perception, then confirmed the selection.
Before I closed out of the character screen, I decided to experiment with one of my new Class Skills.
I activated On the Hunt, the Class Skill which allowed me to disguise various aspects of my status, and I changed my first name from Harold to Hal. The screen updated, but an asterisk appeared after my name.
I focused on the asterisk, and a notification informed me that only a penetrating Skill of a higher tier would reveal the information I had hidden.
Satisfied with my first experiment, I modified my visible class from Relentless Huntsman to Hunter.
I felt an almost inexplicable compulsion to hide my actual Class, and I figured that a hunter would seem less threatening to most people since it would also disguise my military background. A hunter should also be much more common since the first day of deer season was practically an official holiday in western Pennsylvania.
Finally, I modified my Status to disguise the fact that On the Hunt was activated and affecting me.
Status Screen
Name:
Hal Mason*
Class:
Hunter*
Race:
Human (Male)
Level:
2
Titles
None
Health:
120
Stamina:
120
Mana:
150
Status
Normal*
Attributes
Strength
15 (30)
Agility
13 (60)
Constitution
12 (50)
Perception
18 (40)
Intelligence
15 (40)
Willpower
16 (30)
Charisma
14 (40)
Luck
16
Class Skills
Hinder
1
Keen Senses
1
On the Hunt
1
Perks
Gut Instinct
Combat Spells
None
Finished with my changes, I saw that my health points had climbed back to nearly full, and my Mana points were maxed out. Satisfied with my changes and what I saw with my recovered health, I exited the status screen.
I twisted my shoulders from side to side, then bounced a few times on my toes as I ensured all of my gear remained secure. I froze in place with a sudden realization, then I looked at my left hand in wonder. Only now did I recognize that my nerve damage had disappeared when this game-like system started up. I’d been too distracted by fighting for my life and the novelty of the windows to notice that I had actually felt them with my left hand.
I was moving freely, without pain, and the numbness that had plagued my left side for years was gone! I flexed the fingers of my left hand tentatively as I rubbed the fingers over each other and reveled in the sensation. Then I ran my left hand over my face and tempered some of my enthusiasm. Though sensation had returned, the scars from the bomb blast still marred the skin of my face.
I looked myself over in the reflection of my car’s tinted windows.
Blood remained smeared across my face and had caked up on my shirt and vest. The left leg of my pants was shredded in a ragged tear from my butt to my knee, and my left cheek felt a bit breezy. The rest of my clothes were singed and had a few holes from where sparks from the flam
ing house had burned through. I reeked of smoke and charred flesh.
Despite my disheveled state, I felt better than I had in years. Something about this changed world certainly agreed with me, and part of me wondered if I would keep feeling stronger as I gained more experience.
The competitive side of myself that had once pushed me into becoming a Marine and through Recruit Training was coming alive again.
I needed more Levels.
Chapter 5
I left my keys on the driver’s seat of the unlocked Explorer before I walked down the driveway and onto the street. Maybe someone would find something useful inside someday. I probably could have taken more, but I had every reason to expect trouble, and I strongly believed in moving light when expecting a fight.
I followed the winding streets as I worked my way north through the neighborhood and onto Beechwood Boulevard. Pittsburgh was an oddly unique city. Sometimes the roads were laid out in an organized grid, then at other points, they twisted randomly. Often the turns were to accommodate the uneven or hilly terrain, but just as often, roads contorted for no reason.
I was surprised by how quiet the neighborhood seemed. Most people would have already left for work before things got weird, or they were still huddled inside their homes in the hope that this was all a nightmare.
Or they were already dead.
The sensation of being watched struck me again, and I looked around. This time the feeling lacked the hair-raising chill, seeming both less foreboding and more immediate somehow.
I glanced at one house and saw the large picture window that looked over the front porch was streaked with blood. An abnormally large Chihuahua stared at me from inside the window, its muzzle matted with blood that dripped out of sight below the windowsill.
Fist Full of Credits: A New Apocalyptic LitRPG Series (System Apocalypse - Relentless Book 1) Page 3
