Glitch Book One

by Victor Deckard

  A thought crossed my mind. What if Kilgour was still there? It was unlikely, but I decided to check the room out anyway, just to be on the safe side. The last time he’d hidden himself in the darkest corner of the room, which was why I hadn’t spotted him.

  I checked the room to make sure nobody lurked in the darkness and then eventually walked over to the body. I was greatly disappointed to find out that Kilgour had picked up everything useful. There weren’t neither my resources nor the pieces of mosquito meat I’d gathered. The player’d taken away with him the pistol Moderate and the Fabric gloves as well. He’d left behind only all those things I’d gotten in the Training location, namely the standard clothing outfit, the pistol Newbie’s punch, the holster, and the bag. Those had been of no value to him so he’d decided not to weigh himself down with them.

  Footfalls came from somewhere outside the boutique. I got petrified for a moment. Then snatched the pistol off the floor and, taking care not to produce much noise, started for the far end of the room, rounded a big rack, and hid myself behind it. The footsteps were getting closer. The stranger was nearing the boutique.

  I held the grip tightly and got myself prepared for using my psi-powers. Also, decided to find out how many cartridges I had in the mag. Pressing the button, I checked the small holographic display appeared by the pistol. It showed none. The gun had none bullets left. Kilgour or some other player had taken all the bullets out of the pistol. I repressed a moan. The feeling of desperation washed over me.

  I tucked the useless pistol under the waistband at the small of my back and weighed up my options. If the stranger noticed me, I would employ the Shield and then use the Blow. While the player would be helplessly wallowing in the air I would switch on the Acceleration, burst out of the boutique, and take off.

  Seemed to be a good plan. Had to work out all right. Perhaps. In theory, it looked one hundred percent foolproof. But it could turn out altogether different in practice. Anyway, I had no time to think up a backup plan.

  The footsteps were almost on top of me now. The stranger seemed to be inside the boutique already. What to do next? To burst out of cover to take the enemy aback and charge him before he could recover from bewilderment? Or just to sit tight under cover and take action only if detected?

  Again, I chose to err on the side of caution and stayed put.

  It was very quiet for a few moments. Perhaps the player was looking around, the way I had on my having entered the boutique a minute prior. Then some vague sounds came. Rustle of loose clothing or something. I wanted to peek around the rack to see what the stranger was doing but didn’t dare. What if he could’ve spotted me? What if I wouldn’t have been able to get away from him? It was short of ten minutes since I’d revived and I wasn’t all that keen on dying again so I remained in a lay-low state.

  The rustling kept on sounding. The stranger might’ve been tossing my previous avatar. He shouldn’t have bothered. Kilgour had already collected everything useful I had.

  Then there was silence again. I tensed. What would happen next? What would the stranger elect to do now when he’d picked up nothing useful off my body? Would he just go away or decide to check the rest of the boutique?

  An uneasy silence hung in the air. No sound interrupted it. The player was probably peering into the dark corners of the room. He couldn’t clock me, for sure. Yet I felt edgy. The waiting seemed to be endless. It made me feel nervous. I almost couldn’t take it anymore and was about to burst from behind the rack and charge at the stranger.

  And then footfalls sounded again. I drew in a long breath and prepared myself for fighting. When I was about to leap from cover, I realized the footsteps were receding. The stranger was going away.

  Having awaited a little longer, I left my cover. The boutique was empty. I strode over to my previous body and examined it. The stranger had taken the holster as well as the bag. The body had on only the clothes from the Training location now. Deciding not to take it, I headed for the entrance of the mall.

  Out of the blue, gunshots cracked. Yet they were muffled by the distance. Whoever was shooting was too far away to concern me. Shortly afterward, it was quiet again.

  After a short while, I saw an entrance to a sport store up ahead. I drew level with it and came to a halt. I was unsure whether I should check the store out or get out of the mall ASAP while I could still. I’d be done for if I met Kilgour or other aggressive player again. On the other hand, the sport store might’ve held a shoulder bag or warm clothes. I gave the matter some more thought and decided it wouldn’t hurt to check the store. It wouldn’t take long to perform the search, what with any useful and interactive object being illuminated. I just had to watch out for any danger and I’d be alright. After convincing myself of that, I entered the sport store.

  The room was huge and wrecked. I walked forward looking around. Racks, shelves, and mannequins were scattered all over the room. Bike trainers were piled up in the corners. Big holes gaped in the ceiling and under them chunks of concrete lay on the floor.

  Some muffled sounds came from somewhere in the room. I slackened my pace and taking care not to make any noise moved on. The sounds were getting louder and clearer as I drew closer. Soon afterward, I realized they were voices. Some persons were talking to each other. Once I turned around another pile of debris, I saw three players.

  Two of them had their backs to me. The two guys were extremely alike as two peas in a pod. Both had on knee-high boots, pants, leather jackets, and hoods over their heads. All their clothes were black-colored. The players held assault rifles in their hands. Even the guns looked the same. Their appearance clearly indicated they were outfitted in excellent body armor. The players were level 5 each.

  In front of them on his knees was the third player. I looked at him and saw his stats appear in my HUD.

  > Name: Flynn > Level: 4

  He had his left arm in front of his face while his other hand was put on the back of his head. He stared at the crystal embedded in his flesh. On the floor beside Flynn lay either a small assault rifle or submachine gun. I couldn’t make out the stats of the gun from where I stood, yet I made an educated guess that the weapon was common, otherwise the twosome in the leather jackets would’ve taken it.

  “Can give you only twenty pieces of chitin and ten stones,” Flynn uttered in whimpering, plaintive voice. “Don’t have nothing more.”

  “You’ve gave us no nothing useful so far,” One of the two players grumbled in a rude response. “So why shouldn’t we just whack you?”

  Obviously, Flynn needed help. Yet I wasn’t going to render him any assistance. Even if I’d had bullets, engaging these two black-clad jerks would’ve been amounted to committing suicide. I’d better go away before the players noticed me. I started slowly for the exit.

  Flynn turned his gaze away from the crystal and put his left hand behind his head as well, showing total submission and obedience.

  “Finish him,” One of the couple ordered. The other one instantly brought his assault rifle up to the eye level and had Flynn’s head lined up in his iron sights. Flynn opened his mouth, making as if he wanted to say something, but then he spotted me. The player turned his head slightly to one side and his eyes met mine.

  “Hey, you!” He yelled to me. “Help!”

  The others reacted instantly. They looked around and brought their weapons to bear on me. Skull-designed balaclavas concealed their faces, revealing only their eyes.

  Taking advantage of not being now watched, Flynn reached for his weapon with his right hand. I had to admit that the skulls were acting well-planned and organized. They whipped their rifles around and cut loose with short bursts, striking Flynn in his face. The guy tumbled back and went completely still, dead. The skulls whirled around to have me lined up in their iron sights.

  It was difficult to make out what had happened first. Either the gunshots rattled or I utilized the Blow psi-power. Either way, the couple were lifted off the floor as they were disch
arging their rifles in short, controlled bursts. I wheeled around and took off, rounds bounded off the floor around me. I employed the Acceleration, yet my movement speed didn’t change a bit. What the heck?

  Before I could figure it out, something exploded and the ground shook. Some invisible force snatched me up one meter in the air and then flung me back down. Pain exploded in my whole body as I slammed into the floor. I rolled over onto my back to see my legs peppered by shrapnel.

  Dark energy kept holding the skulls in the air. Still, they didn’t seem to be having any trouble with that at all. They were blasting away at me ceaselessly. Only then did I employ the Shield. Rounds beat on the power surface as I tried to get to my feet but to no avail. My legs refused to cooperate.

  The shield was fading away. A few more hits and it’d be destroyed. I made another desperate attempt to get up. This time I managed to do so. Yet my legs hurt as hell and were barely able to hold my body. I started for the exit, staggering and rocking from side to side.

  The Shield popped. I recreated it at once. Then tried to utilize the Acceleration once more. No dice. My movement speed remained the same. What the feck? I glanced at the UI.

  > Mana: 125/400

  The level-one Acceleration psi-power used up only seventy-five mana points. So how come couldn’t I employ it?

  Only then did I notice a digit 2 above the Health bar. Level 2! My character’s level was 2! But hadn’t I leveled up to 3 not long ago? What had happened? Why had my level dropped down? Because of having been smoked by that freaking player, Kilgour? Seemed to be the case. After being killed, I lost some of my experience points. Due to that, the skills I unlocked after having leveled up got unavailable again. Now I had to be grinding again, i.e. had to be killing numbers of mobs to get exp and level up to 3 again.

  Skulls destroyed the Shield. I reactivated it and checked my UI. I had only twenty-five mana points left. It wouldn’t be enough for anything now.

  On looking back over my shoulder, I saw the duet standing on the floor already which meant the Blow psi-power had terminated. Then one of them discharged an under-barrel grenade launcher. A high-explosive round leapt from the muzzle and smashed against the Shield, going off. Two more grenades followed the suit, each one weakening the Shield further. The next round that hit the power dome obliterated it. I kept on running, or more specifically blundering for the way out of the sport store, although I was all too aware that it was no good. Another blast and all went dark before my eyes.

  I revived in the same Resurrection Pod I had the last time. I climbed out and looked myself over. Other than the underpants, I had nothing on now. That made my blood boil.

  Goddammit! I had no vehicle, no weapon, and no clothes now. No jack-squat! I’d lost all few items I’d had. On top of that, I had my level dropped down from 3 to 2. Now if I even found all the resources needed for building a fire pit, I wouldn’t be able to create it, since I no longer had the necessary skill. And the Acceleration psi-power couldn’t be utilized any more, which left me unprotected against enemies’ attacks. I wouldn’t even run away from an aggressive player were they to encounter me. More to the point, I had no money. Didn’t even learn yet how to earn it in this game. But even if I had some, it were probably of no use, since I found no vending machine thus far.

  So what the heck was I going to do now?

  Chapter five

  On top of all hard times I was having in the last thirty minutes, it began to drizzle. Boiling clouds loomed overhead. Seemed like it was going to escalate into a downpour. If that happened, I’d be done for. It was cold in the street and if it’d rain to boot I’d surely end up freezing to death.

  Looking around, I stepped back inside the building with the Resurrection Pod I’d left a couple of minutes before. I was still racking my brain trying to decide what to do next. Was there any point in returning to the shopping mall? The huge building seemed to attract many players. Perhaps there were a lot of goodies respawning all the time. But was it worth it? Without any armor or weapon, I’d be a sitting duck there for other players.

  After having been turning the thought over for a while, I decided not to get back to the mall. The chances of finding something useful in there were virtually nil, what with all those players swarming the place.

  The rain worsened. Heavy drops lashed the sidewalk. It wasn’t a flat-out downpour yet, but it was pretty close to it. I wasn’t all that keen on leaving the building. But I had no choice but to do so.

  Once I mustered up enough nerve, I split the building and directed my gaze toward the shopping mall. Making sure no player was around, I whirled around and strode off quickly. I looked back over my shoulder from time to time to see if anyone followed me.

  Up ahead was an alleyway. As I drew level with it, I looked inside. And saw another player.

  > Name: Flynn

  > Level: 3

  The same player who’d gotten executed by those two black-clad player killers. The guy was turned sideways with his hands fumbling in a trash can in front of him. He had a machine gun hanging on one shoulder.

  Bending over at the waist, Flynn inserted his hands even farther into the can and then pulled out some tattered clothes. He gave it an once-over and dropped it to the ground. I noticed that an outfit he had on wasn’t much better than the rags he’d just discarded.

  I wasn’t sure how the guy would react if he spied me so I decided to err on the side of caution and began to slowly retreat doing my best to walk as quietly as possible. Flynn suddenly turned his head. Probably, he’d seen me in his peripheral vision. Our eyes met. We just regarded each other for a couple of moments. Then the guy reached for the machine gun.

  I broke into a run, employing the Shield. Stomping heavily on the sidewalk, Flynn burst out of the alleyway and gave chase, discharging his weapon on me. Rounds beat at the power dome, yet inflicted too little damage on it.

  I had plenty of mana points so I could employ the Surge or Blow if he gained on me. But after looking back over my shoulder, I saw the gap between us gradually widening. Either I had more points assigned to the Agility attribute, which was closely tied to a character’s movement speed, or I ran faster than he did due to my carrying absolutely nothing.

  Either way, the player pretty soon receded out of sight. I ran around the streets for a few minutes more, making it more difficult for him to find me. Then I finally slacken my pace, slowing down from a sprint to a pretty brisk jog. Flynn was nowhere in sight. Seemed like I gave him the slip. After the Fatigue was fully depleted, my legs began to hurt and my movement speed slacken off to a stride. I couldn’t even jog now.

  After meeting Flynn, I resolved to enter all the alleyways I encountered and delve into thrash cans.

  It was getting darker. And colder. The rain continued to strike against the sidewalks with undiminished force. My body was trembling. The Freezing attribute increased up to fifty percent already and kept on raising. Eventually, I found dirty, tattered, worn-to-rags pants with scores of patches having mismatched colors.

  > Name: “Shabby pants”

  > Armor type: Outerwear

  > Rarity: Common (white)

  > The player’s required level: 0

  > State: 45/75

  > Physical resistance: 1

  > Fire resistance: 0

  > Frost resistance: 1

  > Corrosive resistance: 0

  > Electrocute resistance: 0

  Guessed it was better than nothing. I put it on. Other than the pants and piles of garbage, which, luckily for me, gave off no smell, the trash can held nothing useful.

  A sound of gunshot reached my ears, the bark echoed off the surrounding houses. That scared the heck out of me. Ducking behind the trash can, I even turned on the Shield. But I wasn’t being fired at. Gathering up enough nerve, started for the way out of the alleyway. I hunkered down and gingerly peeked around a corner.

  I sweep my gaze around the street. Nothing suspicious caught my eye. Neither players nor mobs were aroun
d. There was seemingly nothing out of the ordinary at first glance. But then I observed a splayed body across the street approximately one hundred meters away from where I was squatting. Around the corpse lay scattered scores of various items.

  It made me happy to begin with. I felt like bursting around the corner and dashing toward the pile of items before another player could beat me to it or the owner of the items could make it over there in time to retrieve his belongings. Yet I didn’t budge, for in the next moment another thought struck me out of the blue.

  Who had wasted the player? And where had the killer gotten to? What if he or she holed up in one of the surroundings buildings to keep tabs on the street in order to smoke another random player passing by and relieve him or her of their possessions?

  While I was contemplating my theory, a short player with a black bandana tied around his head appeared in the street. He has level 5. The gamer casually walked down the street, looking around nonchalantly, his assault rifle hanging from his shoulder at the ready. From his behavior it was obvious that the guy wasn’t the killer. He didn’t have the slightest idea about the spread-out body nearby and the possible danger of being killed right around the corner. So I lingered in my hidden place to see how this was going to play out.

  The dead body was partly obscured by a big rusty bodywork of a car, so it wasn’t until the player drew almost level with it that he saw the corpse. The player instantly looked around vigilantly. Still, he failed to spot me. Concluding that he was all alone, the guy walked closer to the body and crouched down by it.

  In a second a thundering gunshot cracked across the street. The guy with the bandana was hurled backward and slammed against the sidewalk. He didn’t even get a chance to scream, the bullet killing him instantly. The sharpshooter must have been a high-leveled player armed with an extremely powerful rifle. Around the guy with the bandana appeared a few items dropped from him.