Ghouls'n Guns Page 9

  “It seems like we are locked in, or something, buddy,” Zeke’s voice said. He sounded shaken, like he did not believe his own words. “We tried to log out and we couldn’t. Like there was some kind of glitch with the immersion software. It looks like we are stuck here for the moment.”

  Davidoff sat up and opened his eyes, squinting around. They were still in the military compound, high above the forest below on their lone pinnacle of rock. The world had returned to what it was. The fading and the pixelated graphics had died down, leaving the sharp realism of Code Red’s proper design.

  “Well, come on,” Davidoff said, trying to stand. Zeke grabbed his hand and hauled him up to his feet, helping to right him. All around, the chemists were either intently watching the pair or else peering into blank space.

  “If it is just a little glitch in the software,” Davidoff said, squinting up at the sky, “We should try again.” However, even as he spoke he doubted his own words. He remembered how hard his immersion suit had fought to keep him in place, to keep him trapped here. He remembered how viciously the system had seemed to reject their request to log out.

  But we have to try, he thought to himself, closing his eyes.

  This time, it was worse than before. The same process happened. The same fuzzy screen, the same fight as his immersion suit clung to him. It held on more tightly, however, squeezing so hard that he nearly passed out as he tapped the “log off” button. He felt his eyes popping and his ribcage being compressed. It was so bad that he was sure the suit had severely bruised his ribs, so much so that they would still hurt him afterwards.

  He landed once more in the compound, with Zeke staggering away from him at his abrupt arrival. The world dimmed and faded; every line broke and every surface turned to pixels, random colors buzzing away as random noises bellowed over a low static in his ears… his knees gave way and he fell, everything fading all over again…

  ***

  “It happened the same way, again?” he whispered, coming around once more.

  “It did,” Zeke replied. “I think we are locked in for sure.”

  “There are chat boxes, there must be,” Davidoff said, sitting up and fingering his ribs. “Let’s see if we can speak to someone. We can see if other users have had the same issue. We can check with the help desk to see what the hell is going on.”

  As he stood up again, he saw Zeke’s face. It was white, terrified; his old friend looked truly panicked. Of course he is, Davidoff thought, and the full impact of their situation dawned on him: they were trapped inside a game. A game! As it hit him, he staggered, his knees buckling slightly.

  “You OK, pal?” Zeke asked, and Davidoff nodded.

  “Yeah, just trying not to panic,” he replied. “You know?”

  “Yep,” Zeke said. “I know.”

  Deep breaths. Come on, now, Davidoff told himself. He tried to disappear to the main menu to search out the chat rooms. However, when he closed his eyes, nothing happened. Now he could not even access the other parts of the game. He could not leave his avatar’s body; he could not log onto anything.

  Zeke opened his eyes a few seconds after Davidoff. “You too, huh?” he said, trying to sound light-hearted. However, the fear on the face of such a big, imposing man as Zeke was enough to undermine any amount of bravado.

  “Yeah,” Davidoff said. “I think we’re properly stuck. And I think we might be alone.”

  “Not necessarily,” Zeke muttered, eyeing up a group of chemists a hundred yards away. They were all staring into space, as though in a trance. Zeke bunched his shoulders, made sure his weapons were all loose in their holsters, and made to stride over to the scientists.

  Dr. Finkelstein intercepted them half way towards the group, walking up to join them. “Leave them to it,” he said. “They are trying to contact various servers to see what the issue is.”

  “They… what? They can do that?” Zeke asked, and the doctor shrugged.

  “We are all AIs,” Dr. Finkelstein said. “We have access codes and enough free will to ask questions.” He smiled at them. “We’re not just dumb programs. We are programmed to adapt. How else could we keep track of your narratives, and the quirks of individual players? But now it is time to break character and forget the narratives. Protocol demands that we help you.”

  Before either Davidoff or Zeke could respond, however, the bark of rapid machine gun fire sounded from the forest below. Zeke swore as Davidoff grabbed his luger from its holster, spinning on the spot to face the direction of the sound. “The perimeter is breached,” Dr. Finkelstein said. “Everyone!” he called out. “Battle stations, please. This is not a drill.”

  The chemists who were staring into thin air suddenly came back to themselves, their bodies reanimating. Most people began to jog into the compound’s main hangar, taking shelter inside. A few others, Dr. Finkelstein included, stayed outside, however. “This has always been our bolt hole, in case of emergency,” he told Zeke. “We have trained for this. Though the zombies should not be able to reach us up here, they are able to adapt their own code. It was always a possibility.”

  “What do we all do, then?” Zeke asked as Davidoff squinted off into the forest below. Trees shuddered around where the road should be, the squeal of tires could be heard, and bursts of gunfire were growing closer to hand and far more rapid.

  “We will man the main defenses,” Dr. Finkelstein said, handing them a bunch of keys. “You two, go to the main gate. If there are other players trapped in here, being pursued, you need to save them.” So saying, he went to join the others in operating the machine guns by the trenches. Looking up, Davidoff saw a few rifle toting members of the community coming out onto the roof, ready to provide yet more cover.

  Davidoff and Zeke ran over to the gate in the first perimeter wall. Zeke fumbled for the right key and opened it up, letting them out onto the road. From there, they jogged a minute or so down the hill to the main fence, before which sat the hut in which Zeke had worked his magic just a few minutes before. The gate was closed and chained, secured adequately enough against the outside world.

  Through the chain links in the outer fence, they saw a few zombies milling about in the woods. They looked like they were waiting for something and, sure enough, a minute later a jeep roared into view along the same road that had brought Davidoff and Zeke here. It was flanked by a couple of players on dirt bikes, the whole gang seemingly fleeing in terror.

  A horde of zombies was following behind them. However, where the other zombies they had met before were slow and shambling, with Agility and Initiative figures being laughably low, these zombies were all running. Davidoff looked at one and brought up its stats: it had an Initiative of 42 and a whopping Agility of 58.

  “God, what has happened to them?” Zeke asked.

  However, they had no time to dwell on it. The jeep was closing in on the gate and the bikes were struggling. There were zombies closing in on all sides. The ones they had seen first, skulking in the woods just beyond the perimeter fence, had begun to rush in to charge the jeep’s front whilst the flanks of the pursuing mob were nearly in reach of the motorcyclists.

  “Quick, the lock!” Davidoff shouted, but Zeke was already there. Davidoff holstered his luger and unslung his large Uzi as Zeke struggled to find the right key. He went through a couple, his hands shaking, but it was no good. The jeep was a couple of hundred feet away and closing.

  Zeke gritted his teeth, brought out his own, smaller Uzi and pointed it, muzzle flashing, at the lock. He tore it apart with two short barks, before pulling the gate open, discarding the chain.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  The jeep came speeding up to them, but there were too many zombies in front of it. It crushed a few, pulping them, but ground to a halt as their mangled bodies stuck under the wheels and the chassis. It revved, and its wheels churned, taking it forwards, but more and more zombies were piling in by the second. The three bikes had begun to swerve and we
ave, trying to keep away from the zombies as they crowded all around them. One biker was pulled off, disappearing into the horde, as the other two managed to make it around to the gates.

  “Open bloody fire!” Zeke shouted, hauling the gate open and then raising his Uzi.

  Davidoff did the same next to him, bracing the machine gun in both arms and pointing straight forwards into the churning mass. He squeezed the trigger even as Zeke’s own gun began to bark, and the bullets flew out, spraying through limbs, torsos and even a few skulls. The two friends walked forwards, spraying small bouts of suppressive fire into the zombies, tearing the front couple of lines apart as the jeep changed gear and climbed over the growing pile of corpses.

  This close, Davidoff could see through the jeep’s windows. The driver was a woman and there was a man sitting in the back, cradling his arm as if he was injured. Another figure sat in the passenger seat, aiming a pistol out of the window. Every couple of seconds, the pistol would flash and a zombie’s head would explode.

  “There are too many!” Zeke shouted over it all. They were cutting through the zombies from fifty yards away, causing chaos. Every few seconds, Davidoff saw his newly depleted XP score increase until, within a short time, it was back up to XP 50.

  But they were struggling. For every lone one zombie they killed, more and more poured in behind them from the woods.

  All at once, the jeep broke free from the mass and hurtled for the gates, passing Davidoff and Zeke. The bikers managed to push through at the same time, though one looked badly hurt. The other bike lay abandoned, in the middle of a dozen or so zombies a hundred yards off. “Get back!” Davidoff shouted. “Get back to the compound, we need to retreat!”

  Zeke nodded and began to back away. With one final burst, he emptied his clip and then turned to run. Davidoff did the same, cutting through three more zombies near at hand before throwing his own gun over his back. He pulled out his luger and his new pistol and turned to dash back up the road, through the gate. As he turned, he snapshot at a couple of the closer zombies, catching them with critical hits to the head.

  My aim has improved, he thought, smiling despite himself. His XP had been well spent.

  Up ahead, the bikers had made it through and were charging up the road, catching up with the jeep. Zeke was pulling one gate shut, as fast as he could even as the front line of zombies began to jog towards him. Now or never, Davidoff thought, breaking into a run. His speed had improved, his boosted Agility making its presence known.

  However, he was not fast enough.

  A dozen or so zombies managed to get to the gate before him, blocking him off entirely. He could not get through. He shot three: one through the head, another in the back, just between the shoulder blades, and another in the top of the spine. They all went down, two dead and one nearly gone. But he was on them before he could make any dent in their numbers. He could hear Zeke on the other side, roaring as he fought them, but these ones were far too fast. Even with his Brawler Ability and his monster strength, Zeke would not last long.

  Davidoff got to the back line of the zombies as even more ran along behind him, catching him up. As if by instinct, knowing that he could neither barge through nor stand and fight, Davidoff jumped. Before, he would have been able to jump up to the zombies’ shoulders, possibly breaking through a couple. Now, however, without trying, he jumped clear over the first one, turned in midair, performing a back flip as the world span around him, and he landed towards the front of the mob.

  Surrounded by them, and still acting as if by instinct, he jumped again, straight away, kicking out to either side with both feet. He caught two zombies mid-chest and sent them falling backwards. As he landed, he brought up his guns, knelt down and fired off five rounds, clearing yet more away. Then he was up on his feet once more, jumping backwards over the last two. With a final flip, he cleared Zeke, who was busy laying about himself with the butt of his rifle—his melee weapons seemingly lost in the scramble.

  “What the…” Zeke began, following as Davidoff jumped over him.

  Then Davidoff was on the ground, his guns holstered and an unpinned grenade in each hand. “Leg it, Zeke!” he shouted. His friend dropped his opponent with a swipe of his meaty fist, turned and took off. As he passed Davidoff, Davidoff threw the first grenade high over the fence to land outside. Then he too turned and ran, letting the other grenade fall at his feet.

  He overtook Zeke within a couple of seconds, but both men made good time. As they bailed, both grenades went off. The first one buckled the fence a little, but took enough zombies with it to reward Davidoff with XP 13, whilst the second threw a geyser of undead into the air, bringing him a further XP 16.

  The second gate was up ahead, leading into the compound itself, whilst the last twenty or so zombies left standing were running along behind them, eager to catch up. As they came towards the gate, three figures came out, all dressed in biker’s leathers and toting automatic rifles. Two had their guns at the ready whilst the third kept hers over her back. In her hands, she held an RPG launcher which she directed at the rear of the zombies.

  “Duck!” she shouted, and Davidoff and Zeke threw themselves to the ground, hands on their ears, knowing what was coming next.

  The faint hiss of a rocket’s trail flew over their heads, landing with a ferocious roar, exploding as dramatically as Davidoff’s own grenades had done. Seconds later, the two others opened fire with their rifles, shooting bursts of two or three shots at a time apiece on semi-automatic, placing their shots with deliberation.

  Davidoff rolled over and took out his luger and handgun. His luger had three shots left in the clip whilst his handgun had only two. He used them well. Smoke was billowing from the grenade blasts and most of the zombies up close were pretty mangled. Four had died in the blast, another two were going down to gunfire as he rolled over and six more went down in the second burst of fire. All of them had been slowed, however, as the explosion had torn limbs apart or else had embedded shrapnel in their bodies. They did not take much killing, and Davidoff used his five remaining shots to blow the heads of three zombies as the newcomers took care of the rest.

  Then it was over. The zombies were all put down.

  Davidoff exhaled, as did Zeke next to him, and both fell down, lying on their backs in the dirt. They both swore to themselves and then began to laugh. No matter how scary their situation, no matter the uncertainty of being seemingly stuck here, a battle well fought is a battle well fought, and the adrenaline coursed through their bodies.

  Davidoff had earned another 66 XP in the fight, just by sheer headcount alone, whilst Zeke had managed 39. It all counted… it all still counted.

  Chapter Seven

  They stood up and brushed themselves down, the elation dying as they remembered their predicament. They were trapped in the game, still. A brief victory meant nothing when faced with such a dire situation as theirs.

  Before them, standing in front of the gates to the compound, the three gun-toting players were squinting off into the distance. “There were more,” the one on the left told them in a grim, husky voice. “In the woods. They attacked us at once. Suddenly, about twenty minutes ago, they all sped up and we had to run for it.”

  “We were in the city,” the middle one said, and as she spoke Davidoff thought that he recognized her.

  “Mara?” he asked.

  “Oh,” she said, looking down at him. All of the gunners had scarves over their faces and glasses or goggles on their eyes. Now, however, they pulled it all off and stood smiling. They were two of players they had met before, with whom they had killed the elephant, and a third newcomer. “Yeah, it’s you two, isn’t it?” she asked. “You remember Blight?”

  “Yep,” Zeke nodded. Blight was kneeling down, packing her grenade launcher into a case. She smiled up at them, tight and drawn, as she remembered them in the battle’s aftermath. “We’re Zeke and Davidoff.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Mara said. T
hen her smile dropped and she turned. The man beside her did the same and Blight hauled her case up, throwing it over one shoulder and leaning to one side to compensate for the weight. “We’d best get in,” Mara said as Zeke and Davidoff followed. “Jason was hit pretty bad and we have already lost Jeni.”

  “The other biker?” Davidoff asked as they walked through the open gateway and into the compound. There was a little blood over the ground and fresh boot prints had crushed it into the dust.

  “Yeah,” Mara said. “We were all in a small town just outside the main city when the zombies turned. They were coordinated, somehow, like they could think, like they had some kind of hive mind, you know? There were a couple of other teams, but they didn’t make it. We only just got out of there in time. We jumped into a new jeep and hot tailed it up here, with Jeni, a fella named Tron, and Arch here.” She nodded to the man, who smiled at them briefly.

  “We were dirt biking up the mountainside, tracking down a couple of ghouls who have been terrorizing the AI survivors,” Arch said. “You saw Jeni go down… and Tron is in here, with Jason,” he carried on, pulling open the main hangar door. He was short and stocky and Davidoff had no doubt that he was well-muscled beneath the biker gear. He would be handy in a fight, he briefly noted.

  The scientists and their staff were all milling about, looking panicked. A couple of makeshift beds had been put up, with medics bent over them. Jason lay on one, looking bad. His stomach was torn open and there was blood flowing freely everywhere. His face was pale and his breathing was shallow. He was unconscious, barely holding onto life as he bled out badly. He was down to 35 / 490 HP and he would bleed out fully in no time, unless they managed somehow to stabilize him.

  Davidoff frowned as the full implication of the situation dawned on him. Next to him, Zeke looked livid. Davidoff’s friend had clearly had the same thought as him. If they were stuck inside the game, then what happened when they died? Usually, in Code Red games, they gave you two options when your character died: go straight back in with a new life, but losing all of your XP and with your stats mostly returned to their beginner level. Or quit the game and come back later, but losing the progress you had made on your current mission.