Code Jumper
Page 7
Hugo let out a sigh at that, then nodded, “Alright, I’ll just go get it then.” he let out dejectedly.
I honestly felt bad for the guy, but at the same time what was I supposed to do? Hang out at his place for the rest of the evening instead of celebrating another day well done?
No, it was for the best if we continued on the path of professionalism that Hugo’d started us on once he’d started turning our small operation of Code Jumpers into a criminal empire of hackers.
“Hey,” Kathy whispered, “I’ve been thinking, should we like… do something for Hugo?”
“Like what?” Brendan asked like the caring sweetheart he was.
“I don’t know, maybe some kind of dinner or something? Something that isn’t too big, but also something he’ll really enjoy.”
“Well,” I said before anyone else could jump in, “what does he like doing? I don’t think he’d enjoy some fancy dinner or anything like that. He may have money now, but that doesn’t mean he’s gone all pretentious on us.”
And with that, I had contributed and therefore was a part of the planning process and not just some useless bystander, like Tony.
What? I can do nice things for selfish reasons.
“Paintball?” Brendan suggested, “It’s always fun, and since Re.Gen dropped it’s only gotten better, especially now that it’s just mostly little kids and crazy paramilitary dudes.”
Ah, nothing quite like shooting a mouthy little prick in the back of his head followed by getting ambushed by a bunch of amphetamine riddled guys waiting for when the Russians finally come.
“Paintball works for me.” I said as I reminisced about bored make-out sessions that almost always ended with one or both of us getting shot to bits.
Kathy regarded my smile with confused amusement for a few seconds before shrugging, “I’m happy with it too, Tony?”
“As long as I don’t get stuck on the other team with a bunch of randoms, I’m up for it.”
“Aw, but shooting you is half the fun.” Brendan half-joked as I silently cursed my poor luck.
“It’s decided then,” Kathy said happily, “we’re taking Hugo to paintball. Next week sound good?”
We responded with an almost creepily simultaneous nod before looking around curiously.
“Hey…” I trailed off as I looked over the couch, “Hugo’s been gone a while, hasn’t he?”
“Now that you mention it, yeah, I think he has…” Kathy replied concernedly, “Hugo? You okay?”
She didn’t get a response.
“Hugo? Is everything alright?”
Again, no response.
We all looked at each other for a few seconds before Brendan, after opening and closing his mouth a few times, whispered “You don’t think he’d..?”
“No,” I replied as surely as I could, “no, I… He has been a bit down lately, hasn’t he?”
“Hugo!?” Tony bellowed as he shot out of his chair.
My heart was thumping at about a million miles an hour, and my throat felt like it was about to close over. I couldn’t deal with something like losing Hugo, not when things had been going so well for so long.
And then it happened.
Everyone fell silent.
We were all frozen in place.
“You guys seeing this?” Kathy asked.
“Yeah…” Tony muttered, “yeah, I think so…”
I don’t know whether it happened between a blink, or if it just happened instantly, but all of a sudden Hugo’s house turned into a decrepit, post-apocalyptic reflection of itself.
The fire was weak, the windows were boarded up, and we were all wearing these old, cold weather clothes with pistol holsters strapped to our thighs and various two-handed weapons slung over our backs.
Want to know the weirdest part about it all though?
I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Hey guys, look,” I said, pointing at my left leg, “my leg’s bac-”
“Shh…” Brendan ordered as he got to his feet and unslung the pump action shotgun that was over his shoulder, “Do you hear that?”
I didn’t hear anything at first, save the crackle of the fire and the whistle of cold night air rushing past the broken windows.
“Wait…” I whispered as I too got to my feet, pulling out my pistol in the process while trying to tilt my head toward the source of the sound, “Is that..?”
“That, my dear friends,” Kathy said as an excited little grin spread across her face, “is a zombie.”
FLASHBACK TWO: BOOGALOO
So, there I was with a strange man in my apartment who, up until a few seconds prior, had had a gun stuffed down the front of his pants, and apparently he wanted to shake hands.
“You gonna leave me hangin’?” he joked as I stared blankly at his hand if only so I wasn’t tempted to look at and, subsequently, make a move for his gun.
Instinct finally took over and my hand shot up to meet his, squeezing it firmly before shaking twice and breaking away like my dad had taught me on my first day of high school.
“Quite the grip you got there.” Hugo said as he flopped down onto the ground, where he let his hands fall onto his pointy knees, “Take it that that’d come with the territory.”
“What territory?” I asked passed an embarrassing prepubescent squeak.
The uncomfortably laidback man replied with a chuckle and a smile, “Imma go ahead and assume you’re just stressed out and not trying to pull the wool over my eyes.”
Have to admit that his unironic use of the phrase ‘pull the wool over my eyes’ settled my heart rate a bit as it helped cement the idea in my mind that he wasn’t nuts, he was just older than me and hadn’t quite learned that in civilized society we don’t greet people with penis guns.
“Wait…” I muttered as the wheels in my head finally started turning, “you mean my job?”
“Job? Ha!” Hugo laughed, “Is that what you think stealing money from people is? A job? At best it’s a high-paying hobby.”
I was slightly hurt that he saw my profession as a hobby, and then I remembered that my job was mostly just making sure I didn’t take too much money from the one place during the hour or two I’d ‘work’ throughout the week.
“And what makes you so sure that we’re talking about the same thing?” I asked in a desperate attempt to pretend I was really boring and did some menial job with my hands.
“Dude, ain’t a hacker in the Valley that I don’t know about.” Hugo replied as he got to his feet and walked over to my fridge, “Now, let’s pretend you skipped over the bullshit and got straight to tellin’ me what you really do.”
I stayed silent for a few seconds as Hugo riffled through the various pizza boxes and tinfoil wrapped foods before deciding to settle for a beer.
“Alright, let’s pretend.” I responded as confidently as I could right before Hugo started downing the whole bottle.
“Good, that’s what I like to hear.” the guy who was quickly starting to remind me of my deadbeat uncle said before dropping back down and finishing hi-my beer, “First things first, is this what you want to do?”
That was the first time anyone had ever asked me that, so I was thrown off guard for a moment, but I quickly found my words again, “How do you mean?”
“Like… is this something that you’re doing so you can pay the bills ‘til you find a new job or..?”
“Yeah, no, this is what I want to do.” I replied, realizing for the first time in a long time that I actually enjoyed working as a hacker, “Couldn’t get into senior high, therefore I couldn’t get into college, therefore I couldn’t get into game design.”
“How come?”
An amused huff escaped me before I could stop it, “Look at me. Do you really think someone like me is gonna be able to get into any form of higher education?”
Hugo scoffed and rolled his eyes at that, confusing me until he finally asked “Because you’re black? Really? You’re gonna sit there and tell m-”
“Oh… Oh, I…” Hugo stammered.
I’d embarrassed him, which, in my mind, was a good thing. Gave me the opportunity to level the playing field between us and to get into a position where I didn’t feel so threatened.
“Get past it and ask me your next question,” I said as comfortingly as I possibly could, “I’m actually kinda interested to see where this goes.”
The guy was shocked at being told what to do, but he didn’t seem to mind it too much based on his smile, and it gave him the kick up the ass he needed to regain some of his composure, as much as one can when sitting on a mostly rotted floorboard like ones at the beach anyway.
“You ever heard of Re.Generation?”
THE OBLIGATORY ZOMBIE MODE
“Nope,” I said as assertively as I could with the sounds of the undead bearing down upon us, “I refuse to take part in this event.”
“You have a problem with zombies?” Tony mocked from where he stood by one of the windows, peeking through the gap in the boarding, “Is someone a wittle bit fwightened?”
“Yeah, and I don’t see why you’re not.”
Everyone in the room seemed slightly taken aback about my honesty, including Brendan, who I’d told I was scared of zombies at least a dozen times.
“Don’t get me wrong,” I blurted out in an attempt to defend myself, “I like gunning ‘em down plenty in games, but the idea of actually getting ripped to shreds by a horde of flesh-hungry people ain’t exactly something I take lightly.”
“Well just… don’t get eaten.” Tony said with shrug, “From what I can see they’re pretty damn slow.”
“Easier said than done,” I replied coldly, “and nine times out of ten slow means strong, and strong means these barricades ain’t gonna be worth shit in about a minute.”
It was at that moment that everyone decided to grow a brain and get on defending all the points of ingress and egress of the room we were in.
I refused to partake.
“Dude, get ready.” Kathy hissed as she aimed frenetically between each of the windows.
“No, I will not. I am going to wait right here and force myself to wake u-”
“Eddie, honey,” Brendan said sweetly, “if you don’t help us keep this room secure I’m leaving you.”
I hoped he was joking, but, based on the off chance that he wasn’t, I decided to suck it up and get ready for a fight.
Then everything fell silent.
The fire flickered.
The faint sound of rain began.
A thunderclap.
“Front door!” Tony roared over the splintering wood and moans that had started to fill Hugo’s house.
I spun toward the door, my pistol raised, and squeezed off three rounds in quick succession, hitting the gray, lumbering beast in the chest.
Cursing myself out for aiming in the wrong place, I locked the zombie’s head in my iron sight and pulled the trigger, hitting it in the cheek and taking off half its face as Tony fired with his bolt-action rifle, blowing the top of the zombie’s skull mostly clean off.
Five seconds into our little wave and we’d already lost one of the primary barricades. We were like the absolute worst ‘Let’s Play’ group in the world.
“Window!” Kathy shouted before opening fire with her DMR, “By the fireplace!”
The sound of shattering glass and guttural moans sent me into a sort of trance as I popped two shots into the creature’s head before it had a chance to get in through the window.
“Hey! I’m pretty good at this!” I shouted over Brendan firing his shotgun at whatever it was that was coming from the room beside ours.
It was actually turning out to be a pretty exciting experience. I mean, how many opportunities do people get to shoot their biggest irrational fears in the face?
“I’m really proud of you,” Brendan grunted, “but would you mind giving me a hand!?”
Without wasting a second, I turned and spotted the three zombies making a move for my poor, sweet Brendan as he struggled to fire his shotgun fast enough.
I found the closest in my sights and fired, successfully catching it right between its eyeball and the bridge of its nose, before turning to my next target and pulling the trigger to no avail.
“I’m out of ammo!” I shouted over to the guys as I started myself down in the hopes of finding a clip hidden away in one of my pockets.
“Then use the SMG!” Kathy shrieked angrily, reminding me that I had an extra gun.
“Oh, right…” I muttered before slotting my pistol in its holster and slinging the SMG off my back.
My wasted few seconds in searching for ammo had proven to be more dangerous than I thought as the last of the shuffling monsters made its way right for me, Brendan having killed the other one with the last of his shells.
“Shoot the damn thing!” someone shouted from behind me, forcing my finger to squeeze the trigger and… well, at least I killed the zombie too.
“Oh. My. God!” Kathy cried out as she saw what I’d done.
“It was an accident!” I yelled back defensively.
Curious? I don’t blame you.
Turns out that when you try and put all your strength into making sure your bullet hose doesn’t blow holes in the roof, the gun can find exciting new directions to go in, like sharply to the right where your boyfriend was standing.
“Is he okay?” Tony called over hopefully as he put down another zombie that had meandered through the doorway.
“He’s got about ten holes in his face and chest, so I’m gonna go ahead and assume no.” Kathy snapped before turning her attention back to her window which, in the time she’d spent looking at Brendan’s corpse, had become more of a large, zombie spewing portal.
Zombie Spewing Portal, that’s actually a pretty cool name for a metal band.
Anyway, back on track.
“I’m out of ammo!” Tony shouted before starting to use his gun as a club, “How’re you guys holding up!?”
My answer came in the form of my SMG clicking uselessly as I used the last of my ammunition to mash one of the five kitchen zombies’ kneecaps into a puree of bone and muscle tissue.
“Yeah, I’m screwed too.” Kathy let out with a tired grunt before plowing the butt of her gun into one of her zombie’s teeth.
We were on our last legs, my little group of generic undead groaners continuing to shuffle toward me as others joined them from whatever part of the house they’d broken in through.
“This is kinda like Thriller!” Tony cackled as he brained another zombie, “Except, you know, less dance-party-ish! Am I right? I said, am I-”
“As someone who’s presently struggling with one of his greatest fears,” I barked back before using the side of my SMG to smash a zombie’s nose into its skull, causing it to collapse backwards like a meaty beanbag and trip up two of the other monsters, “and the fact that he just killed his boyfriend, you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t find your ancient reference funny!”
That’s when my luck finally ran out.
I’m not sure when Kathy had succumbed, but once she had the horde had been quick to take the opportunity to move on me.
I didn’t even know they were behind me until the first one had taken a massive bite out of my shoulder before using its strength to knock me to the ground, where one of the tripped zombies laid on its belly like an eager alligator waiting for the foolish antelope to get too close.
Kids, if you have a choice, don’t be an antelope. Being an antelope sucks salty balls.
Also, you ever wonder what it’s like to have your face bitten off?
Fun fact, it’s not pleasant.
MIND-HACKED
The last thing I remember before waking up on Hugo’s floor was Tony screaming like a l
ittle bitch while I screamed like a manly man.
Yes, there’s a difference.
“How many you kill?” Hugo laughed from behind his camera as I woozily rose to my feet, “Brendan was tellin’ me that you had some trouble using the SMG?”
“Brendan… Brendan dead… Brendan dead friend…” I mumbled while struggling to stay standing, my words slipping out of me like molasses as my eyes adjusted wildly to the lighting.
“No, no Brendan is not dead.” Hugo clarified for me before setting his camera down on the bench and helping me shuffle toward the couch, “At least not up here. What’d you guys think? Pretty cool, huh?”
“Wha…” Kathy, who was sitting to my left, trailed off, leaving her jaw to hang open as he mouth seemingly gave up on words before she could even finish one.
“What happened?” Hugo asked for our barely conscious group, “Well, that’s simple, you guys didn’t make sure I hadn’t tampered with your drinks.”
My brain immediately went to all the stuff I’d ever read about LSD mind control experiments, but then it got distracted about something to do with the fact that penguins should be called ‘irds’ because they can’t ‘bird’.
“Am I soup?” I asked fearfully.
“No,” Hugo responded as respectfully as he could, “I promise you’re not soup Eddie.”
“Oh… okay, good…” I replied, not entirely convinced that the meanie who’d put things in my drinky sweet was telling the whole truth, “I-I don’t wanna be soup…”
“Soup!?” Tony shouted excitedly, “Is there soup?”
“Settle down.” Hugo said with his finger to his lip after taking note of how startled the rest of us had been.
“But I want sou-”
“No soup for you!”
Once it became clear that Tony wasn’t going to continue interrupting Hugo about soup, he pressed on with explaining just how we’d all ended up in a post-apocalyptic world.
“As I was saying, I slipped you a little something in your drinks.” he said, reminding me of that one time we’d had ‘shrooms together for the fifth time, “That little something, my dudes and dudette, was a bunch of some delightfully fun brain hackers.”