The Last Player Standing: A Dystopian LitRPG Novel
Page 12
My pistol clicked on the last shot. I dropped the spent mag and replaced it with a fresh one. I then found the catch release with my thumb and the big pistol quaked in my hand as the bolt slid home, chambering a round. As I looked up, I spotted a few more players coming from the west. They started to climb the hill, stopped partway up the slope, and brought their assault rifles to bear on our SUV. The big pistol boomed in my hands as I fired a quick series of double-taps at the players. Each took at least one bullet to the head.
“Let’s get the heck outta here,” I said.
“No argument here,” Jennifer replied.
This time it was me who climbed behind the steering wheel. Once Jennifer got in the backseat and swung the door shut behind her, I shoved the SUV into gear and jerked the wheel to the side. The big car started rolling down the slope.
I gunned the vehicle and it raced down the hill, tearing into the loose, grass-choked ground and spraying gouts of earth from beneath the tires. I felt the rear end of the car begin sliding and steered into it. The four-wheel drive straightened itself and the vehicle shot forward.
Some of the other players opened fire on our escaping vehicle. The bullets of various calibers struck against the body of our vehicle. Only then did I realize the SUV had bullet-resistant glass and reinforced bodywork. Dimples appeared on both sides of the SUV as bullets hit the car and ricocheted, shooting sparks in the air.
Still, our car wouldn’t be able to hold against such violent onslaught for long, that was for sure. Giving in to the constant fusillade of full metal jacket rounds, the rear window had already spiderwebbed. We had to get out of this place as fast as possible.
Once we reached the bottom of the hill, I shifted gears until I had the car moving flat-out. There were lots of players around the hill, but luckily, most of them were fighting among themselves, ignoring our escaping vehicle. I was pretty sure many of the players weren’t even aware that the loot from the supply drop was in our SUV.
In the rearview mirror, I saw Jennifer used another auto-injector on herself, probably topping off her character’s Health. She then thrust the top half of her body out the roof hatch to man the .50-caliber machine gun. A second later, I heard the huge deadly weapon roar to life. My girlfriend aimed for other cars, trying to inflict as much damage on them as possible so that they were unable to chase us.
We finally hit a gravel road. I whipped the steering wheel to the side, turning the car sharply to the left. Thrown in the opposite direction, Jennifer grabbed the round edge of the hatch to prevent herself from being yanked from the car.
I straightened the car, but then the car got stuck. The tires on the big vehicle spun for one horrifying second, then the SUV gained purchase and the car was moving again. I revved the engine and our battered car lurched forward, racing down the road and picking up speed.
I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw two pickup trucks hit the road, get into a single file, and race after us. Each vehicle had a swivel-mounted machine gun mounted in the bed. The leading car was red, the other one white.
I spun the steering wheel, rounding a sharp bend in the gravel road. Jennifer was trying to bring the machine gun to bear on the leading car. She didn’t have a clear angle on the vehicle, but fired anyway, the rounds shattering a side window of the adversary car and stitching an irregular line of bullet holes along its right side.
Once around the bend of the road, I stomped the gas pedal to the floor, regaining speed and driving away from the hill. Still, the two pickup trucks were still tagging us. A player manned the machine gun and opened fire on us. Jennifer ducked inside the SUV to avoid being hit. Some of the enemy’s bullets smacked into the rear window, causing more cracks and obscuring my rear view.
However, the gunman more often than not missed the SUV, so Jennifer got back to the machine gun again and returned fire.
The gravel road was bumpy, filled with numerous shallow ruts and holes, causing the SUV to bounce as it hit each bump. Due to the bumpy ride, Jennifer was having a hard time aiming at the car behind us.
Finally, one of her shots caught the gunman in the chest, causing him to fly backward out of the truck’s bed and tumble down onto the road. The driver of the other car––white-colored truck––didn’t have enough time to steer around the fallen player. The car bumped as its four tires rolled over the body.
Jennifer had the trigger on the machine gun held down, pouring a devastating stream of fire into the leading car. I saw a crimson haze appear in the vehicle’s cab as my girlfriend’s slugs thudded through the truck’s windshield and lodged themselves in the driver’s chest.
Out of control, the leading truck veered off the gravel road. As its wheels hit the ditch along the left-hand shoulder of the road, the vehicle rolled over, then settled onto its roof. The car slid a few feet across the earth before coming to a rest.
The occupants of the other car elected not to push their luck. The white car executed a tight U-turn and headed back the way it had come.
She climbed into the cab and sat in the front passenger seat.
“Looks like we’re out of the woods now,” she said.
“Yeah.”
Jennifer consulted her map to find some place where we could catch our breath after the recent intense gunfight and examine the loot.
As we drove on, I constantly checked the side-view mirror to make sure the white truck wasn’t chasing us. We followed the gravel road for a while until we reached some ramshackle wood house. I parked the SUV next to the building and we got out. First of all, we searched the place to ensure it was devoid of any players. There was nobody in the building. We also didn’t find any items, which indicated that someone had already looted the house.
After we carried everything from the SUV to the house, we laid the items on the floor in the living room and examined them. There were two rare––“blue”––level 10 Kevlar vests, two rare level 10 combat helmets, a rare level 10 assault rifle, a unique––“purple”––level 10 shotgun, and a legendary––“orange”––level 11 pistol.
It was pretty darn good loot. In order to get it, we had put ourselves through the great danger, but the loot was totally worth it.
Also, since both Jennifer and I had stiffed a lot of players at the hill, we had gotten plenty of experience points. Jennifer had leveled up to 10 while I had leveled up to 11 since I had taken out more players than my girlfriend.
We changed into level 10 ballistic vests, discarded our old combat helmets, put on the new ones, and then checked out each weapon’s stats.
> Name: Eraser
> Type: Shotgun
> Rarity: Unique (purple)
> Level Requirement: 10
> Damage: 550
> Accuracy: 65
> Fire rate: 15
> Magazine size: 10
> Special quality: This shotgun had a 50% chance of placing a debuff Bleeding on a player
> Name: Predator
> Type: Assault rifle
> Rarity: Rare (blue)
> Level Requirement: 10
> Damage: 95
> Accuracy: 75
> Fire rate: 90
> Magazine size: 40
> Special quality: The selector switch could be thrown to the 3-round-burst mode to increase the assault rifle’s accuracy by 25 percent
> Name: Beast
> Type: Pistol
> Rarity: Legendary (orange)
> Level Requirement: 11
> Damage: 250
> Accuracy: 85
> Fire rate: 85
> Magazine size: 20
> Special quality: When you hold the pistol in both hands, its accuracy gets increased by 15 percent
Since Jennifer had told me that she felt more comfortable with shotguns than full auto weapons, she took the Eraser shotgun and I armed myself with the Predator assault rifle. Also, since Jennifer was level 10, she couldn’t use the legendary pistol yet. So I took
it as well and replaced my pistol by the Beast in the holster on my right thigh.
It was quite a gun. The legendary pistol had extremely good damage and fire rate attributes. Moreover, not only did the handgun have very good accuracy, eighty-five, but it also got boosted up to one hundred percent when the pistol was held in both hands.
Then Jennifer and I set about assigning our skill points we had gotten while fighting the players at the hill. I had gotten four levels, so I had four skill points to assign now. Jennifer leveled up to ten, so she had three unspent skill points.
First of all, I learned the Health Regeneration 2 skill from the fifth branch, which unlocked the level 6 branch.
> Name: Health Regeneration 2
> Description: Your Health regenerates over time at the rate of 15% a minute
> Cost: 1 skill point
> Note: You cannot learn Health Regeneration 2 if you do not have Health Regeneration 1 unlocked
I had three more skill points to assign, so I examined the sixth branch of the Skill Tree.
> Level 6 Branch:
> Skill #1
> Name: Tactical Reload 2
> Description: Increases reload speed with all weapons by 50%
> Cost: 2 skill points
> Note: You cannot learn Tactical Reload 2 if you do not have Tactical Reload 1 unlocked
> Skill #2
> Name: Health Regeneration 3
> Description: Your Health regenerates over time at the rate of 20% a minute
> Cost: 1 skill point
> Note: You cannot learn Health Regeneration 3 if you do not have Health Regeneration 2 unlocked
> Skill #3
> Name: Damage 3
> Description: You do 15% more damage
> Cost: 1 skill point
> Note: You cannot learn Damage 3 if you do not have Damage 2 unlocked
> Skill #4
> Name: Dodge 2
> Description: You have got a 10% chance of avoiding being hit by enemies’ bullets.
> Cost: 1 skill point
> Note: You cannot learn Dodge 2 if you do not have Dodge 1 unlocked
> Skill #5
> Name: Fast and Furious
> Description: The lower your Health the faster you move. When your Health is below 25%, you will gain up to an additional 25% movement speed and you will do 15% more damage
> Cost: 3 skill points
I spent one skill point to unlock Health Regeneration 3, which left me with two more skill points to allot. Since the seventh branch of the Skill Tree was now unlocked, I examined it as well.
> Level 7 Branch:
> Skill #1
> Name: Dodge 3
> Description: You have got a 15% chance of avoiding being hit by enemies’ bullets
> Cost: 1 skill point
> Note: You cannot learn Dodge 3 if you do not have Dodge 2 unlocked
> Skill #2
> Name: Recoil Reduction 1
> Description: Reduces weapons’ recoil by 5%
> Cost: 1 skill point
> Skill #3
> Name: Bombardier 1
> Description: Increases explosion damage by 10%
> Cost: 1 skill point
> Skill #4
> Name: Bone Breaker
> Description: Increases damage you do to players’ arms and legs. Also, the player wounded to an arm gets his or her reload speed decreased by 25% and the player wounded to a leg gets their movement speed decreased by 10% for a limited period of time
> Cost: 3 skill points
> Skill #5
> Name: Headshot
> Description: Headshots deal 5% more damage to the players wearing helmets
> Cost: 2 skill points
After giving the matter some thought, I used the remaining two skill points to unlock the Dodge 1 and Dodge 2 skills from the fifth and sixth branches respectively. When I leveled up another time, I would learn Dodge 3 from the seventh branch of the Skill Tree, which would unlock the eight branch.
By the time I had all my skill points allocated, Jennifer had already assigned her own skill points.
“Time to hit the road,” I said.
Yet before any of us could move, there was a rumble of an approaching car coming from the outside. We jogged to the nearest window and peered out. A white car came into view, rounding a bend in the gravel road leading up to the dilapidated house we were in. I recognized the vehicle at once. It was one of the two pickup trucks, which had been chasing us earlier on. Seemed like they had decided to hunt us down after all.
“How the heck did they find us?” I asked. “I’ve been checking the side mirrors all the time, but nobody dogged us.”
“Duh, it’s a no-brainer, Jason,” Jennifer replied. “We just followed the road and stopped at the first house we came across. They did the same thing––took the road, reached the house, and spotted our car parked next to it.”
As the pickup truck drew closer, I realized the two occupants of the car were girls. One of them sat behind the wheel while the other one manned the .50-caliber machine gun mounted in the back.
“We gotta take them out quick,” Jennifer said.
She smacked the stock of her shotgun against the window, shattering the glass, then stuck the barrel out, and stroked the trigger. The shotgun boomed and bucked hard in her delicate hands. None of the pellets seemed to reach the vehicle, though.
“Dang, I’m out of range,” she said.
Jennifer looked at me. “Jason, don’t just sit on your ass! Get busy! Take those chicks out!”
“Jen, they don’t shoot at us. Probably they just want something from us.”
Her eyes were blazing with sudden anger. “Jason, are you stupid or what? Get ’em, now!”
Cursing under my breath, I lifted my assault rifle, the stock snug against my right shoulder, flipped the selector to full-auto, and dumped the whole magazine into the approaching car. I walked my fire up the windshield, yet none of my bullets hit the driver.
The bolt on my assault rifle locked open as I fired my last round. I ejected the empty mag, slid a fresh one into the well, and smacked the bottom of the mag to click it into place. My finger tapped the carriage release on my assault rifle and the bolt slid forward, chambering a round.
As I brought my weapon to shoulder level, I heard Jennifer scream. “Jason, get down!”
I saw the girl in the truck’s bed turn the swivel-mounted machine gun toward the window by which we were standing. Jennifer and I dived to the floor as the machine gun opened up and a tremendous roar came from the outside. The heavy-caliber rounds pervaded the room, ripping through the outside wood walls of the building.
“We gotta get outta here,” my girlfriend screamed over the roar of the machine gun.
We started crawling on our stomachs across the room, keeping below the hail of heavy gunfire.
The girl manning the machine gun kept laying down suppressive fire. The fusillade of full metal jacket bullets tore through the fragile structure. Glass shattered as wood and plastic housing materials were splintered under the violent onslaught. The furniture all around us disintegrated as the player let loose with another long burst of devastating fire. White plumes of plaster dust erupted from the walls. Stuffing flew from couches and chairs.
We scrambled down the short, narrow hallway that ran from the living area to the kitchen. However, there was no escaping from the chaos. The driver had to be driving around the house as the shooter kept firing, for the slugs were now saturating the kitchen instead of the living area.
The shooter dragged the weapon along the length of the wall, the bullets punching through and zipping above our heads. A refrigerator blew apart, a cheap clay vase on the counter exploded in a shower of chips, shelves fell off the walls as the bullets kept slicing through the outside wall. Some of the slugs tore through the flimsy curtains, setting them on fire.
We turned arou
nd and headed back the way we had come. Still, there was no point in returning to the living area. When we reached the corridor, we threw themselves against the inner wall of the hallway to avoid the furious spray of slugs.
The shooter walked her line of bullets along the inner wall. We ducked our heads as gouges and pockmarks appeared on the wall above us.
“Dang it,” Jennifer screamed as one bullet zipped past so close to her head that it singed her hair.
It was then that we noticed a basement door. We crawled toward it and tried the knob. It twisted easily and the door swung inward. We rushed down the stairs, crashed through the door at the bottom of the stairs, and burst into the basement. It was completely empty. A naked bulb hung from a cord. The light it was casting was weak but enough to see by.
We looked around the place. There was no other way out except for the door we had just crashed through. We had to get out of the basement before it turned into a death trap. We whirled around, dashed back toward the door, and started to ascend the stairs.
When we were halfway up the steps, the .50-caliber slugs tore through the basement door and slammed into the wall above our heads. We stopped dead in our tracks. The bullets kept coming and soon tore the door off its hinges. The bullet-riddled door skidded down the steps. We drew apart to the opposite walls of the staircase to let it slide past us.
Then the roar of the machine gun ceased. We waited a few seconds, pricking our ears up. I heard the soft padding of feet. Someone was creeping toward the entrance to the basement.
“Get ready,” Jennifer whispered as she lifted her shotgun and pointed it up the stairs.
Nothing happened for a couple of seconds. Then a hand thrust around the door frame and tossed a cylindrical object in the staircase. It clanked down the steps toward us. I recognized the object at once.