Ghouls'n Guns Read online

  “How long?” Tron asked. “How long until it is ready to be used?”

  “Ten hours at the current rate,” Jessie said.

  She apparently did not see the irony in the situation. That two missions had presented themselves, each with a ten hour time limit, did not seem at all strange to her. “The coding will be complete in seven hours,” she carried on. “And then the upload into physical form will take another couple of hours, and then it has been scheduled for distribution an hour after that, when they will have it all in position.”

  “That is a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?” Blight asked sarcastically, but Mara cut across her.

  “What do we need to do?” she asked Jessie. “How can we stop them?”

  “As I said, the AIs do not mind dying,” Jessie told them. “They are all backed up, anyway. But you will need to kill them. If you can bring the subways down, somehow, they will not be able to finish their work.”

  “But if it is all programming, won’t they have backed it up somewhere on the main server?” Mara asked. “They can just save it and retrieve it later.”

  “No,” Jessie said, sounding a little hopeful for the first time. “You must understand, this coding is anathema to the system and to every AI on it. There is nowhere that will accept it for storage, nowhere where they can work on it. They have created an isolated pocket under the subway, with no access in or out, otherwise we could deal with it ourselves. The only copies will be in that bunker. If you can destroy it and kill every program working there, it will be erased entirely.”

  “Well, then,” Mara said, finally accepting the reality and taking control of the situation. “We need two teams, don’t we, with detonation specialists on both? One can go up and blow the warlocks’ castle up, the other can go back down into town—covertly, because those suped up zombies will be everywhere—and bring the subway down.”

  “Agreed,” Davidoff said. “Me and Zeke can deal with the warlocks. We have gone up against them before, we know enough about how they fight. Zeke can rig the place to blow easily enough. Mara, you’re a ranger, you can get us in there. Tron, Blight, you guys go down into town. Get in, blow the place up, destroy all the servers, then get out again.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Mara agreed, though her voice was bleak.

  “Right, then, let’s get out of here,” Tron said. “We might as well tool up and make a start.”

  ***

  When they appeared back in the hangar, they all looked grim. A timer had started in the top right hand corner of Davidoff’s view, counting down from 10 hours. He assumed the others could see the same. The chemists and assistants all looked concerned, as well.

  Of course, they are worried for the sake of the whole game, Davidoff thought. If that virus gets out, everything will go to hell, and if the warlocks’ castle isn’t blown up, there will be no one left to defend them.

  Jessie gathered them all in a circle before they left to rearm themselves. “I have limited discretion,” she said. “But what powers I have, I will use to aid you.” She closed her eyes and they started to glow faintly behind her eyelids. Immediately, Davidoff felt a strange sensation, as though something large was welling within him.

  Of course, he realized. He saw his XP bar, previously at XP 155, shoot up. It went on and on, increasing by a dozen or so points every second until it reached 305. “It is as much as I am able to give in any one go,” Jessie said. “But you are all welcome to it. Use it well.”

  They all immediately went within themselves, all of them doing the same as Davidoff. They were looking through their stats and through the available upgrades they could buy.

  However, before he closed his eyes, Mara lent in to speak to him and Zeke. “Guys, I’m going to buy Medic and Explosives Master. I would recommend that Zeke also buys Explosives Master, and that you, Davidoff, buy Medic. That way, our chances of getting through this will be higher. We can patch ourselves up properly, not just applying bandages and lighter stuff like that. And we will have a greater chance of at least one of us being able to blow that castle up.”

  “Agreed,” Zeke said as Davidoff nodded. “Good idea.”

  So they each went into their profile screens, disappearing from the world for the moment. The timer was still present, though, counting the seconds, the minutes, until it was quite literally game over.

  Davidoff found Medic under his Skill options and bought it, spending 80 XP on the acquisition. He looked into it a little and saw that he could heal 500% the amount of HP with a field kit that he could before, and at twice the speed. With XP 225 left over, he looked at his stats, choosing which ones to buffer:

  Agility

  71

  Melee Weapon Skill

  48

  Ballistic Accuracy

  32

  Damage

  44

  Resistance

  32

  Initiative

  48

  Morale

  78

  HP

  420

  XP

  5

  Skills

  Ambidextrous, Knife Fighter, Acrobat, Counter Strike

  All his fighting stats were strong enough. And realistically, screw fighting well at the moment, he told himself. In all honesty, fighting flashy did not matter anymore. The only thing that counted until they got out of this nightmare game was survival. Therefore, he split his XP between his Resistance and HP, two of the most expensive stat lines to bolster. He spent 60 XP on his Resistance, buying himself +15, and 162 XP on his HP, buying himself +27 and leaving himself with just 3 XP left over to add to his next set of purchases.

  However, his new stats were much improved. He would be far harder to kill now than he had been before:

  Agility

  71

  Melee Weapon Skill

  48

  Ballistic Accuracy

  32

  Damage

  44

  Resistance

  47

  Initiative

  48

  Morale

  78

  HP

  447

  XP

  3

  Skills

  Ambidextrous, Knife Fighter, Acrobat, Counter Strike, Medic

  Next, he came back into the hangar. Blight and Tron were still disengaged, still using their XP in their profile screens, but he accompanied Zeke and Mara to the munitions supply room. Inside, he saw that it had clearly been replenished: they had taken an awful lot of gear out to help with the defense against the zombies, but the stocks were up to full again.

  “Probably a quirk of the coding.” Mara shrugged when he mentioned it to her and Zeke. “They probably expect to get lots of groups coming through here once each, not the same lot going again and again. Each time we shut the door, it probably resets itself for the next lot.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right,” Davidoff agreed. “That’s worth bearing in mind for the future.”

  Before, when he had been loading up in here, he had cared only about maximum damage output and had aligned his choices with his favored fighting style. Now, however, much like with his choice of stat boosts, he cared more about surviving than anything else. So too did Mara and Zeke, by the looks of things.

  They all headed straight for the armor section, pulling out everything they could possibly wear: knee pads, shin guards, arm guards and padded, fingerless gloves all gave them between +8 to +20 Resistance to the relevant areas. There was a choice of helmets, from lighter ones given over to better visibility and maneuverability to heavier, clunky ones which covered the whole head and left very little awareness. Zeke chose the latter, knowing that his role would always be heavy support and fireworks. Davidoff and Mara chose lighter ones, however, with a plasti
c visor covering the top halves of their faces and leaving their vision relatively unimpaired. Their mouths were also free, so that they would be more audible—they would be great if they needed to use their better stealth capabilities to scout ahead, talking without having to shout.

  The helmets gave them each +12 Resistance (with Zeke’s giving him +16 Resistance) as well as immunity from concussion. Finally, they picked out some body armor, with Kevlar plates over all the vital bits and a fine mesh weave for the rest. Light and durable, they would sacrifice a small amount of Agility (-6) for decent defense at +20 Resistance to the chest and abdomen, and +18 Resistance against attacks to the groin and back.

  Then they set about taking medical supplies, gathering the best they could come upon. Mara and Davidoff both found med-kits with pain killers, bandages, tourniquets and medicines. One use of the kit would arrest any bleeding and would give the recipient +5-10% health back which, for them now that they had equipped the Medic skill, meant more like +25-50%.

  Perfect, Davidoff thought, nodding to himself. The kits would be good for five uses apiece. They should keep them all going for a good while yet.

  Finally, they raided the stores for weapons as the other two came in, looking a little dazed from taking on their upgrades. Davidoff was happy with the way that his Uzi had worked against the zombie attack, so he kept it and took ten new, full clips for it, throwing them all into a large, military rucksack. His luger was also serving him well and he found five reloads for it.

  His handgun was giving a bit much kickback, however, throwing off his aim a bit in a fast-paced firefight. He discarded it and found himself a different model, one with less power and range, but still with a decent enough Damage characteristic at 80, depending on the shot he scored, and with 10 plus 1 rounds loaded at full capacity. It was less damaging than the pistol he had just discarded, but it would suit his play style a bit better. He took six reloads for it.

  His kukri was still a favorite, but the military knife was unnecessary, he was finding. It was rare that he needed a knife in each hand, and so he was finding himself relying more and more on his luger and kukri combo. He packed his knife away in his back and equipped a sharp-looking machete from the storeroom, strapping its sheath onto his belt, ready to draw effortlessly. It would do more damage if ever he needed to just hack away at opponents, and it would help to keep them at arms’ length. Even with his Knife Fighter and Counter Strike special abilities, he was leaving himself vulnerable to damage by fighting quite so close to the action as he had been doing so far.

  Finally, he, Zeke and Mara checked the explosives. The other two were trying on armor, leaving the corner of the storeroom containing all the explosives free for them to browse. Davidoff had never been into explosives and he would not know what to look for. The specs for each showed Average Damage, Blast Radius, Concussive Force and so on, but it was all really quite meaningless to him. Zeke, on the other hand, frowned in concentration as he searched through a couple of different options, clearly weighing them up carefully, knowing exactly what he was seeking.

  “Here,” he said at last, handing a small box of plastic explosives each to Davidoff and Mara. They bent to store them in their rucksacks as Zeke explained. “They’re pretty useless against infantry, at least compared to a grenade or something with a greater Average Damage and Blast Radius. But their Concussive Force and Pliability make them perfect against structures. A deep little boom from the tiniest crack and a whole building will collapse. If we wire them up all around the main struts in the castle’s foundations, it won’t last long.”

  Then he searched through a little more and passed them each a few grenades with Average Damage 180 and Blast Radius 5m. “These will do us against any hordes,” he said. Then he gave them another box of explosives, these ones a different type of plastic explosives with Average Damage 210 and Blast Radius (*). “They’ve no blast radius to speak of on their profile, of course,” he said, “but the more you put down, the wider the area, and you can set them to a timer. If we can lure a load of those warlocks into its path, bloody boomtime, I’m telling you.”

  Finally, he hefted out a small-sized but clearly very heavy casing. “I’ll carry this one,” he told them, putting it into a specially reinforced carry case that he had found. He loaded it into his rucksack with a smile on his face. Only someone of his immense size and strength could happily heft it around with them for long. “Blast Radius 20m, Average Damage 150 and Concussive Force of 25. To give you some context, those little grenades you’ve got have a Concussive Force of 8, while that first box of plastic explosives had a Concussive Force of 15. One of these,” he said, patting his bag where he had just loaded the box, “right in the middle of the place, will be epic.” He smiled, clearly enjoying himself despite the peril they were all heading off to face.

  “Is that all, then?” Mara asked. She had chosen her kit, adding a sniper loadout to her automatic rifle, which she was putting away. Ready to go, she was clearly impatient to be off and disinterested by Zeke’s geeky pleasure over the hardware.

  “Yeah,” Zeke nodded glumly, his fun undercut. “We just need to pick a vehicle and we are good to go.”

  “Come on, then,” Davidoff said, watching his timer. Fifteen minutes had already passed and it was counting down all the time. “Let’s get a move on.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Remember, keep to the main road,” Mara told them all before they drove off. “I’ve rigged mines and pit traps over the rest of the peak. It isn’t safe to pass.” Then she jumped up into the front passenger seat of their truck, next to Zeke, whilst Davidoff climbed up onto the back.

  Though there was a cramped little space in the back of the car, behind the front seats, for him to hunker down in, the back of the truck had been replaced with a gun turret, loaded out with a minigun and some other accessories. He jumped up onto it, grabbing a hold of the minigun’s handles, and lowered himself behind it. He was fairly well protected in his perch, with a clear sight all around. A lever rotated his seat around most of the cockpit, allowing him a 270 degree arc of fire with the gun. The minigun had a rate of fire of 4000 per minute, with each hit doing around Damage 130. A mean piece of kit if ever he had seen one.

  As well as the minigun, the structure had an RPG launcher attached for heavier hitting. Each grenade had a Blast Radius of 3m and did an Average Damage of 200. With eight shots per reload, and three spare reloads within easy reach, the truck could do some serious damage. Though he was not the best shot, he was the most defensible. If anything jumped up on them, Davidoff would do much better at fighting them off, so he was the obvious choice for gunner as they went up through the mountain roads. Besides, they would need Zeke’s driving skills on the rough terrain, and Zeke would need Mara’s navigation skills to direct them. Apparently, as a tracker, she could find a point on a map and arrows would appear on her screen, showing her the best way to go like a satellite navigation system in the real world.

  So I’m up here, in danger and out in the cold, while they sit comfortably having their little road trip, Davidoff thought, settling himself in. Well, at least I’ll get more action, he told himself, before realizing the predicament: action was best avoided nowadays. He was still having a hard time convincing himself that it was all real, that they were not just off on some adventure in a regular RPG.

  The going was a little rough. They followed the main road for a few miles up into the mountains. After that, however, it turned into a bumpy dirt track. The truck had good suspension and four wheel drive with plenty of torque, but it was still a little juddery up in the gun’s cockpit. Davidoff felt himself being shaken about as mile after mile flew rattled along past. He had no idea how far they would actually end up driving up here, but he was certain it would be a lot more than the sixty miles as the crow flew that the map had given them.

  Every so often along the road, Davidoff noted signs of mutation. At one point, as darkness fell, he noticed green lights flickerin
g off in the forest’s depths. Strange noises sounded out and he kept his eyes peeled, his finger alert and ready on the minigun’s trigger. The truck’s headlights were bright, illuminating everything up ahead, and there were a couple of small spotlights on the rear, allowing Davidoff to see everything up to about 20m away in pretty decent detail. The minigun turret also had its own light, pointed to align with the gun itself, so that he could always make out whatever he was shooting at.

  It came in handy pretty soon, unfortunately.

  Zeke had turned off the main track and onto a smaller, even bumpier one that climbed up a very steep hillside. They rolled and bounced upwards through the darkness, crushing stones beneath their wheels and working the engine hard to keep their ascent going. However, there was a sickly, yellowish glow coming from far off into the trees on the truck’s right hand side—Davidoff’s left. He swiveled the turret to look, beaming his light through the woodland and squinting to see what he could make out. He was cold and his breath came in ragged pockets of steam, his nerves tight as his hands shook a little.

  There was something moving out there, though he did not know what it was. He spotted a couple of shapes flicker in and out of the light, moving too fast to be the regular zombies and too smoothly to be the suped up, improved ones. Then, as the truck approached the top of the hill, a light appeared on their other side. “You getting this?” he whispered to his radio.

  “Yeah,” Mara’s voice came back. “I’ve got them covered on my side, you keep yourself pointed the other. We’ll be out of this stretch in a couple of minutes. Let’s hope they keep their distance, whatever they are.”

  “On it,” he replied, signing off. He looked around and saw Mara’s rifle pointing out of her side window and he rotated the turret the other way, keeping his light straight, seeming to be illuminating the whole damned forest.