Ghouls'n Guns Page 17

  There was a great explosion and the building’s remaining windows blew outwards. Most of the roof tiles either slid down or, around the immediate blast radius, leapt up into the air before coming down with a crash. The noise was intense and, as it died down, the unmistakable sound of feet slapping the pavement at speed arose.

  Five zombies came around the corner together, their mouths open, their rotting teeth dripping with saliva. They were mindless and hungry, creatures of pure, carnivorous rage, and they ran towards Davidoff at speed. He could hear more coming behind them, but he had no time to count or think. He had holstered his silenced pistol and his kukri when they got into the garage, knowing that if they were to get into a fight from then on he would want it to be as loud as possible. Instead, he brought out his Uzi and held it tightly in one hand as, with the other, he pulled out yet another grenade. He unpinned it with his teeth and rolled it, lobbing it under arm, down the street and into the zombies’ midst.

  The second explosion was louder and sharper than the first, unmuffled by the walls of a sturdy building as it was. It tore the five zombies apart, killing or half-killing and maiming them all.

  There was a crowd of ten or so behind them, further down the street, with a couple of large ghouls with long, sharp claws and fangs leading them onwards. They all ran almost impossibly fast, closing in on Davidoff. Zeke came to stand by him, however, with his own Uzi in hand, and the two opened fire, spraying bullets into the crowd as it grew ever larger and came in towards them. Five or six went down, though more came on and the majority of the assailants ignored the damage that the two friends dealt out altogether.

  Zeke threw a last grenade and then grabbed Davidoff, pushing him into the garage. “Now!” he roared as his grenade went off, ripping yet more bodies apart.

  They both hurried into the garage, the mob twenty feet behind them and running through smoke and trailing limbs, unheeding of their own safety. Zeke turned at the back door, letting loose another spray of rounds as Davidoff sped through, reaching the back wall and vaulting once more over it. Seconds later, Zeke appeared, his hands grabbing the top of the wall as he tried to heft himself up.

  Seeing him struggling, Davidoff leapt back up, grabbed his friend by the back of his jacket and pulled him over just as Zeke pressed a button on a radio controller clipped to his chest. Davidoff and Zeke fell down, landing hard before the wall as the largest explosion Davidoff had ever heard went off. The ridges of high granite that cradled the village rumbled and a few rockslides began to tumble downwards. The wall they were crouched behind rattled and most of the bricks on its top blew away. The bottom buckled inwards, just about catching the blast. Smoke and dust filled the air all around them and Davidoff and Zeke held their breath, kept their eyes closed, and waited a few seconds as their ears rang with something like a profound tinnitus.

  Davidoff felt a jolt, opened his eyes and saw Zeke prodding him, a grin on his face. Neither of them could hear anything over the ringing in their ears, but they knew the plan. They stood up and saw that only four feet of the wall remained. The whole of the rest had been sent flying. The garage was a mess of debris, with a few flames licking up here and there. Beyond it, the building into which Davidoff had thrown his first grenade had collapsed, as had the buildings either side of the garage. A few limbs poked out of the rubble, still twitching, and there was blood and bowels and body parts strewn everywhere.

  However, their foes were not all dead.

  A couple of ghouls ran up the street, towards them, and a half dozen zombies staggered through the mess, their hands outstretched and their eyes fixed on Davidoff and Zeke, hungry as ever. Davidoff felt a full 100 XP flow towards him from a combination of the sheer death toll and the skill of having set such an effective trap. But he had no time to gloat; he raised his Uzi as, next to him, Zeke switched his small, handheld Uzi out for his bolt rifle.

  Davidoff filled the closest couple of zombies with lead, ripping their torsos to shreds, as Zeke aimed at the nearest of the ghouls. It was a tall woman dressed in a few wispy scraps and with an eye missing, much like the first one they had met in Apocalypse—what seemed like so long ago. However, this one had an extra arm growing out of her shoulder. At the end of her regular arms, sharp claws snapped away, eager to join battle and break these two pesky interlopers apart. The other arm, the extra one, had a hand which gripped a large shotgun. As she leveled the shotgun, still running and resting its barrel across one of her claws, Zeke fired. His shot caught her full in the breast, sending her flying backwards with its stopping power and killing her outright.

  “Run!” Davidoff shouted, though he could still hear nothing. Zeke could obviously not hear, either, so Davidoff punched him in the shoulder and gestured towards the woods.

  Their part was over. They had killed a good thirty of the town’s inhabitants, and now they needed to get away while they still could. Zeke nodded, fired off one last shot which caught the other ghoul in the leg, and joined Davidoff. Together, they ran as fast as they could, back into the woods.

  ***

  They broke into the tree line, feeling good to be in cover as the town settled at their backs, dust and smoke still blowing freely in the breeze as distant moans and roaring underpinned it all. They stopped a few hundred yards in to catch their breath. Zeke doubled over, hands on his thighs, sucking heavily at the air as Davidoff gasped, closed his eyes for a second and processed everything that had just happened.

  “Are we clear?” Zeke asked. “Did we get out OK? Is anyone following us?” His words came in short gasps.

  “I think we’re fine,” Davidoff replied. He opened his eyes and peered around. He looked back the way they had just come and he stared into every corner of the surrounding woodland. “Nobody followed us. We’re good for the moment. Come on,” he said. “We need to get around to Mara.”

  They slung their bigger guns over their backs and turned from the smoking village, ready to jog back around to the rendezvous point. Davidoff equipped his silenced pistol in one hand, drawing his new machete with the other, as Zeke pulled out his smaller, handheld Uzi, reloading it and switching it to semi-auto. They did not expect to run into any trouble on their way to meet Mara, but they would not be taking any chances.

  Good idea, too, Davidoff thought, halfway around. He did not know why, but suddenly he felt a strange sensation creeping over him. It felt like he was being watched, or… like he was being stalked somehow. Like an animal, hunted by a larger predator. He gripped both of his weapons a little tighter, glancing about nervously.

  “You feel that too?” Zeke asked him. Zeke was also holding his gun at the alert and Davidoff holstered his pistol, switching it for his more powerful, more obvious luger. His friend’s eyes were wide and white, and his voice shook a little as they cantered along a small dirt track and into the last clearing before they would meet back up with Mara.

  “Yeah, it’s like…” Davidoff began, but he could not finish.

  Something moved, off to their left, in the direction of the village. It was a brief movement, a shimmer as a shadow passed from one tree to the next. They both turned to face it, holding their guns aloft. Zeke’s Uzi was ready to spray the clearing with hot lead and Davidoff was preparing himself for snapshots, for melee if necessary, cleaning up whatever Zeke left alive.

  The shape moved again, and the sound of splintering wood cracked out through the forest, audible even over the sounds of Zeke’s loud breathing and Davidoff’s own panicked heartbeat. Davidoff traced the movement with the barrel of his gun as Zeke held his Uzi straight forwards, gripped in both hands. “One of the ghouls?” Davidoff asked.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Zeke nodded.

  A short, squat creature emerged. It was smaller than Davidoff by a few inches but was horrifically well-muscled. Grey skin was stretched over the bulging chest and arms, and tattered old army pants covered its legs. Its face was a smiling grimace, as though frozen in place, with long, jagged teeth and small wh
ite horns sticking out all over its head. They all pointed upwards, and they carried on even down to his shoulders. It had a large axe in a loop in its belt and a sawn-off shotgun in its arms.

  “What do you want?” Davidoff asked.

  “Me? I just cause distraction,” it replied. “Brother says you cannot leave.”

  “Brother?” Davidoff said, before Zeke shouted next to him.

  Zeke turned and fired blind, releasing five or six shells, but then he was hurled backwards and went rolling across the clearing behind Davidoff. He landed in a crumpled heap and only just managed to get onto his knees in time to aim his gun. He fired a couple more shots and then went over once more as something flew around him, knocking him about.

  The muscular, squat ghoul laughed and aimed its shotgun at Davidoff.

  But Davidoff was fast. As the ghoul squeezed the trigger, Davidoff fell to his knees, tucked himself over and rolled forwards. He felt a few stray pellets of buckshot rattle over his body armor, no doubt tearing a few holes in his overcoat, but he was unharmed. He came up to kneeling, his machete discarded on the ground and his luger aimed, held in both hands, straight forwards. He squeezed the trigger and felt the kickback as his gun’s roar echoed around the woods. The muscular ghoul took a step back, a bullet wound torn through one of its large pecs, its grin still plastered in place. It sank down as Davidoff stood up, preparing a killing head shot before turning to deal with whatever was attacking Zeke.

  However, before he could fire, something hard hit him across the back. Then, as he tumbled forwards, the breath knocked from his body, the same thing cracked across his ribs, throwing him backwards as he felt a couple of bones being bruised. Even through his combat gear, whatever it was that was attacking him was managing to cause some fast damage.

  Davidoff rolled over backwards, coming to his feet with sore bones and muscles but with adrenaline pumping, removing the worst of the pain and keeping him sharp, keeping him focused. Whatever was attacking him was moving with great agility and speed, and he just managed to see the outline of a small figure before it danced out of his vision once more and another crack lashed him in the left knee, dropping him. He managed to stagger upwards, onto the other knee, though the pain was intense. He had lost -60 HP, which was not a big deal, but with his knee busted up he also noted that he had lost -23 Agility.

  The outline came in again as the sound of gunfire and then melee fighting broke out near at hand. This time, however, Davidoff impressed himself. His Counter Strike ability seemed to kick in all at once and, as whatever had been hitting him came in again, Davidoff brought an armored arm up to block, before catching the weapon, all in one swift movement.

  The weapon was a quarterstaff, simple wood but used to devastating effect. The wielder was the small ghoul from the town, the one he had seen and had known immediately was in charge, clad in black robes and with a wicked gleam in its eyes. In almost the same movement as his block, Davidoff twisted the staff, pulling the small ghoul over to one side, and raised his luger, letting off a couple of rounds.

  The ghoul was almost faster than he could follow and, as soon as the bullets left the luger’s chamber, it reacted. Still clutching the quarterstaff, seemingly playing tug of war with Davidoff in an odd parody of a child’s play, the ghoul ducked and swerved, dodging the first bullet instinctively and removing most of the damage from the second. Rather than catching the ghoul fully in its unarmored chest, the bullet merely grazed the flesh, doing only Damage 35. This left the ghoul with HP 186 / 221. Moreover, it seemed thoroughly unconcerned about the pain or the danger. Rather, it tugged its staff free and somersaulted over Davidoff, cracking him in the back of his helmet as it did so.

  Davidoff fell forwards, dizzied by the blow, and caught himself on the ground. He rolled over, facing upwards, and leapt to his feet. His knee throbbed, as did his ribs and his head, but he was captivated fully by the fight. The ghoul before him cartwheeled and flipped, dodging from side to side, trying to get close, unable and unwilling to stay still for even a second. Davidoff kept his eyes on it as best he could, backing away and trying to find a bead on it.

  Behind the little ghoul, its brother, the brawny, muscular one was locked in combat with Zeke. Both were similarly strong, similarly tough, and had much the same HP. Zeke had better Defense however, due to his armor and his upgrades. They tore lumps out of each other, thumping and pounding, throwing one another down like wrestlers. Their weapons had long been discarded, though both bled from a couple of bullet wounds, and they carried on unarmed, using fists and feet. Davidoff fired a round at the smaller ghoul, missing entirely and making it hop backwards, retreating. Then, as Davidoff took a punch to the side of his helmet that looked like it would lay him out, the little ghoul leapt in once more towards Davidoff, laying strike after strike, splintering a couple more of his bones and causing Damage 103 with a flurry of blows.

  Davidoff reeled away, dazed and unsteady, his gun held quite limply in his hand. The staff came up again, this time jabbing him painfully in the chest with its tip, knocking him backwards as a large shape came in and out of view. Davidoff was spinning, then he was still, lying on the ground as the little ghoul ran in.

  However, as if in slow motion, the little ghoul became distracted, its little beady eyes alight with rage and fear. A little way away, Zeke was kneeling on the other ghoul’s chest. He pounded it a couple of times with a meaty fist, though Davidoff noted that none of his attacks were doing much damage. Realizing that he needed to end the fight quickly, and that he would not be able to beat the vastly strong ghoul in melee, Zeke unclipped a grenade from his belt, unpinned it and, with a roar, thrust it into the ghoul’s open mouth before jumping away.

  The little ghoul watched, rage bubbling up inside it. The air around its body began to crackle with electricity as it witnessed what was happening to its brother. Davidoff rolled away, trying to get as much space between himself and the explosion as possible. And yet, a few seconds later, he still felt the buffeting air pressure as the grenade went off. It caught him up, causing another 50 Damage, and pushed him away as parts of bloody body matter fell in drops and chunks all over the clearing.

  The little ghoul cried out, roaring, and turned its attention on Zeke once more. Crackling, a lightning storm playing around its body, it became a blur. It streaked towards where Zeke was lying, stunned by his exertions and the explosion itself and, as he tried to fend it off, its attacks came thick and fast. A whirlwind of strikes came and the electricity engulfed them both, crackling through Zeke’s body over and over again.

  Davidoff was not finished yet, though. He managed to stand, shaky and unsure, and he raised his luger as the ghoul fought on, heedless of anything but revenge. Davidoff limped in towards the fight. Thanks to his Brawler Ability, Zeke was managing to hold his own, catching the ghoul’s strikes in the least damaging way, even managing to get the odd swipe in at his assailant. The electricity was doing him in: every second or so it flashed over him and he lost a dozen HP points, as well as a fair degree of his accuracy and a few points from his Agility. But he saw Davidoff coming, ignored the wounds he was taking and shoved his body forwards, knocking the little ghoul flying. It landed in the dirt, sprang up again and was about to leap in for the final attack. By now, Zeke only had HP 134 left, and a few more strikes would kill him off.

  Davidoff squeezed the trigger and the ghoul fell backwards, its chest concave, watery grey blood spilling out and soaking its robes. Davidoff squeezed again and the ghoul’s head blew apart. It landed, its body ruined, dead, in a pile of its brother’s own entrails, and Davidoff keeled over. His XP soared up to 285, combining a large bonus for having killed such a dangerous foe with the previous XP awarded to him, but he didn’t care just then. He sat in the squelchy mud and closed his eyes for a few seconds, lost in the sheer exhaustion of it all.

  ***

  “What is this mess?” a voice asked a few moments later. Davidoff was hardly conscious after the little gho
ul’s beatings, and he had no doubt that Zeke was in an even worse state.

  “There was, there was…” he began, but another voice spoke over him.

  “It was them,” the voice said. It was cool and deep; a woman’s voice spoken in somber tones.

  Davidoff looked up and saw two figures standing over him. He blinked a couple of times and everything became a little clearer. Mara was one of the figures, on the left, and she was looking around the clearing in shock at the carnage that had been wrought here. The other figure was a young woman with long dark hair and a serene expression on her face. “Two small ghouls, one incredibly strong and the other quick and nimble?” she asked.

  Davidoff nodded. “Yeah, they jumped us just a few minutes after the explosion,” he said.

  “Yes, it is like them to have survived,” the newcomer said. “They are very tough mods… were very tough mods. They ruled the town with an iron fist and kept us all in chains for many days. It is an impressive feat to have bested them. Most players would have gone down to them.”

  Davidoff coughed and a little blood dribbled down his chin. Likewise, Zeke, lying a few feet away, groaned and sputtered. His face was bruised and bloody, and there were many gashes and dents to his clothing and kit. Mara looked in bad shape, too. She was cradling one arm that looked like it had been torn from its shoulder socket and a black welt was rising beneath her eye. Her lip was cut and her hair was matted with blood.

  “The ghouls did a number on all of us,” she said. Indeed, she only had HP 123 left. They were in no fit state to continue their mission and, as he levered himself gingerly to his feet, the full gravity of the situation dawned on Davidoff.