And speaking of front doors, this one was going to be an issue. The lock on the door was pretty intimidating, but when Sasha stepped up next to me and shielded the little flashlight so that she could shine it in the window we both saw that the front door only let you into an airlock set up. Three feet inside was a whole other, even stronger door. This one was outfitted with a far more professional lock.
I looked over at her, and she wrinkled her nose. Further inspection revealed that they had one of those cages set up just inside, the same sort of thing that you might find in a high-class jewelry store. I know they were just supposed to be selling cheap electronics, but this type of security said that there might be something a lot more valuable inside.
Whatever these guys were selling, they certainly weren’t taking any chances with unwanted visitors.
The ax wasn’t going to work. She needed something that was more suited for the job, but even if she did manage to find something as perfect as a crowbar I didn’t think there was any way that she was going to get through that second lock with it.
Sasha second-guessed herself, taking a step away from Reboots shop front and looking at the other buildings. A shoe store, a delicatessen, a place that sold clothes to women who were pretending to be twenty-five years younger than they were; those were the prospects, and there was nothing anywhere near as good as her initial selection. Reboot was on the corner, and it gave her a good view of the Museum if and when she needed it. The dark windows were an obvious boon, and the store was small enough inside that it should be easy to defend.
Hell, for all I knew it might be easy to escape from as well if there was a simple way up on that second floor. From there she could climb to the adjacent rooftops and slink away if things went bad.
Since the front door didn’t look like it was going to work, Sasha and I both headed around the corner to see if there was another way in. Well, I was seeing this place for the first time, but when I glanced over at her and saw the determined set to her jaw, I realized that she knew there was a second entrance. The fact that she’d spent so long at the front trying to work out a way in didn’t bode well for our chances back here, though.
I knew that she didn’t want to give up on this place, but that meant that she didn’t have a whole lot of options. And more to the point, she didn’t have a lot of time. It was almost 4 in the morning. The later in the day it got, the more crowded it would be as people continued to flood into the game. Standing around outside with nothing more than an ax in her hand and a treasure trove of knowledge strapped to her back was a good way to get taken out.
It was damn hard for me to be a spectator. It made me antsy. I’ve never been the sort of person that could happily watch someone else play a game. No way. No matter how carefully they selected their path or how little damage they took on the way to their goal, it was impossible for me not to see a million ways that I would’ve done something different.
Even if my choices weren’t better, I still couldn’t understand why the other guy had opted for his way instead of what looked obvious to me.
Even though I trusted Sasha’s decision so far, it was hard for me to accept how close she insisted on being to the museum. Yes, I had no personal ties to it she did, but even so, she had to see how much danger she was putting herself in. And even if that didn’t faze her, she was jeopardizing her guild as well.
Deep Dive wasn’t going to stop looking for her. If I had my way, she cut and run right now. Anyone that she was tied to would be yet another way for them to trace who she really was, and the last thing she needed was additional vulnerabilities like that.
There was no guarantee. Even if those guys in the helmets were looking for, she was being stupid by not being concealed already. Sasha prided herself on not letting her emotions get in the way of her decisions, but she was tying yourself to this location because of its nearness to the computer Museum, and she knew that she didn't cut and run fast somebody would end her, and all this would be for nothing.
As I rounded the corner, I saw that the door back was going to be a challenge for a whole different reason. The door was sturdy and made entirely of metal. There wasn’t a window, and the hinges looked like they would take a stick of dynamite to remove.
That wasn’t the most interesting thing, though. That was mounted on the wall just to the left of the door, where a keypad stared back at us expectantly.
I was already used to having access to Sasha’s abilities, and I scanned them quickly. It took me a couple of seconds, but when I found a listing for Hotwire at 44%, I felt like I was on the right track.
It wasn’t great, but it was something.
I waited for her to work that out too, but instead, when I turned around to see what was holding her up, I discovered that she was heading back to the front of the building again. Curious, I hurried after. She must see that the back way in at a higher chance of success then busting in the front, right?
What the hell was she doing?
When she crossed the street and chucked the backpack into the bed of a pickup truck with four slashed tires, I had an inkling. But when she dragged the tarp that had been crumpled up back there over her prize to conceal it, I knew what was up.
Death for the survivors wasn’t permanent on Sundays. She was banking on the ability to return here if something happened to her, hoping that she’d be able to find the backpack after she respawned if she was unlucky enough to catch a bullet to the spine or a lead pipe to the back of the head.
It was as necessary as it was clever, and the fact that it hadn’t crossed my mind reminded me exactly how little I knew about this side of the game. Zombies didn’t have an inventory. Our weapons were our bodies and our minds, and the game was designed so that if we chose to focus on the mental, we gave up the physical and vice versa. Our power was in numbers, but Survivors were much fewer and far between.
It was a difficult mindset to get into, at least for me.
Now that the only thing she had to carry was the ax, Sasha was free to be a bit more mobile as she headed further up the street, away from the museum. I had no idea what she was doing, but she obviously did because she made tracks straight for a big older model 4 wheel drive Range Rover that was parked less than a third of a block away. I thought she was going to inspect it, maybe see if there was something worth stealing in the glove compartment.
Instead, she brought the ax up over her head and then sent it crashing down, aiming for where the hood met the frame. Once, twice, and then again and again. I already knew she was strong, and now that I saw what she was doing I worked out why she’d wanted to go for an older vehicle. The chance that it had a working alarm system was less.
Even when she missed her target, she was doing enough collateral damage to aid her cause.
Melee Weapon (Edged) increased to 19%
Melee Weapon (Edged) increased to 20%
That was encouraging, too. Even though we both knew that there’d be some arbitrary maximum to how high combat skills could be leveled out of combat, and with the skill that low I sure hoped that she was never going to need to take a swing at a moving target. Still, it was good to have the free increase.
Melee Weapon (Edged) increased to 21%
As she leveled up her ability the ax’s blows slowly became slightly more accurate, and after a few more heavy swings Sasha was able to remove an ugly, jagged rectangle of metal from the hood. It wasn’t the perfect way to work, but it was more than enough room for her to reach in and disconnect the battery.
Even something as simple as that had taken some doing. Now that I knew what she was going for it explained why she had wanted to work on a four-wheel-drive, as well. They generally required more power to keep going, and therefore this particular piece of equipment would put out a bit more juice.
Engineering (Mechanical) increased to 38%
She was using the little LED flashlight to light her workspace, and I leaned in to watch. There were plenty of wires in there for the taking as well
, and Sasha made a point of gathering up as many as she could and wrapping them in a tidy loop around her left wrist for later.
I was still able to share her user interface, which was incredibly helpful as I watched it highlight a few other useful components in an effort to be useful. The higher her corresponding skill the more aid it would offer, but even now I saw that it was pointing out things that she would otherwise have missed.
Ever resourceful, she grabbed everything that it pointed out.
When at last her pockets were full of random components and the big battery was cradled in her hands as well, she tucked the ax under her arm and headed back to the rear door of Reboot. Once she was there, she set the battery down, and after that, all it took was a relatively light but extremely precise tap with the ax to pop the keypad open and expose the wires within. The little unit wouldn’t be the same, but Sasha was looking to make an omelet and was more than willing to break some eggs along the way.
Sasha mentally summoned up her Engineering menu, her attention gliding down the list I’d scanned a few minutes earlier. I knew she was looking for her Hotwire skill. The game’s messages had a way of pressing into our awareness, so instead of really “reading” them, it was more like she and I were both remembering them, even if they happened to be full of new information that we hadn’t heard before.
Hotwire: Start a car, overload an electrical system, the sky is the limit. If you want to electrically tamper with a closed system, this is the skill for you!
She nodded to herself and then focused on the keypad.
If you’ve got the proper equipment, your chance of using hotwire on this object successfully is 44%.
Sasha sighed. She wasn’t very happy with the chances. I didn’t blame her. Having less likelihood than calling the correct side of a coin when you flipped it was not exactly the kind of odds you were hoping for. Still, it was way better than nothing.
She bent down, uncoiled the wires from around her wrist and then attached them to the terminals. After that, she lugged the heavy battery above the ground cradled it in one arm before carefully hooking the leads up to the keypad. Just before she completed her attempt, I watched her close her eyes and mutter, “This had better work.”
Even though she’d been bracing for something like it when the shower of bright sparks shot up her arm she let out a little yelp and jumped back.
No good, apparently. A second later Headshot was more than happy to announce the news.
The Hotwire attempt has failed. Would you like to do it again? This time your chance of success is 34%.
Sasha was obviously determined to make this work, and she didn’t hesitate before she took the end of the now-melted wire and gingerly held it to the terminal once more. As before, the willing battery pumped power into a chunk of tech that didn’t want anything to do with it. The sparks were worse this time, and with them came the unmistakable aroma of singed hair as Sasha was forced to slap at a few spot fires that had begun along the front of her coveralls.
You guessed it. The Hotwire attempt has failed. Are you sure you would to try? This time your chance of success is only 19%. Maybe you should get better at this before you try again, don’t you think?
Sasha grit her teeth. Judging by the way the percentages were dropping, this would be her last realistic chance to hotwire the keypad. Even if she succeeded, which I was beginning to have severe doubts was going to happen, that would still only supply power to it.
After that, she’d have to take her chances at hacking the fucking thing. Morbidly curious, I glanced at what her skill was in that. 32%.
Shit… Maybe we’ll be taking an ax to that front window after all…
Even worse, I could tell from here that the battery was getting pretty damn hot. It was cradled against her body in one of her arms, and some of the fire that I had assumed had been caused by the cascade of sparks just now had actually originated at the electrical source.
That was bad news, but it was nothing compared to what we both felt when an unfamiliar voice split the air like a knife behind us.
“Hey!”
Sasha’s heart caught in her throat, and she shrunk against the wall, hoping against hope that whoever had called out in the night was focused on something or someone that wasn’t her.
No such luck. “I’m talking to you, the bitch against the wall! What the hell do you think you’re fucking doing? You think I’m blind?”
She turned around slowly, trying as hard as she could to look innocent. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she had to respawn now, especially since she was still attached to the Computer Science Museum. If she had to restart, that’s where she’d warp back to.
The guy that had verbally accosted her was farther back in the little laneway that the door protected by the keypad looked out onto. There was a wicked sneer on his face, and he picked up the pace now that he’d given himself away. The guy had already been jogging, but that became something closer to a sprint.
I could sense her whole body tense as the fight or flight reflex that had been hardwired into us since we decided we deserved a place in the world boosted her adrenaline, narrowed her vision, opened her airways and tried to make her take action.
There might still be time to run, though she didn’t trust her stats. By the look of him, he’d sunk his points into way more of the physical abilities then she had. Sasha was strong, but the rational sliver of every humans’ brain that’s constantly crunching variables warned her that she didn’t stand a hope in hell of winning a foot race.
At first I thought that he was unarmed, but now that he was close enough to use it I saw that he had a stubby looking handgun clutched in his fist. He wasn’t waving it around or pointing it at her, but it was certainly small enough to have been stowed in the pocket of his urban camo suite, and he hadn’t bothered to.
Sasha’s experience told her that he’d elected the soldier as his archetype. She knew that, and the knowledge drifted into me. I thought that there was always a chance that he’d already killed a Survivor that had decided to be a soldier and taken his starting outfit, but for some reason Sasha doubted it.
Maybe it was the way he moved. I had to defer to her knowledge of Headshot, but I didn’t see how it mattered either way.
“Hi,” she said, awkwardly shifting the weight of the battery to the crook of her other arm so that she could wave in his direction. It looked like she didn’t see any point in being anything other than nice, especially since he clearly had the upper hand. If he wanted to, he could simply shoot her. Other than possible Guild battles later on, I doubted there would be any repercussions if he just put a bullet in her.
“Are you trying to break into this place?” he asked. The guy was a lot closer now, no more than fifty feet away and closing fast. We could see his name above his head, most likely because he decided that he wasn’t yet hostile: Reezer. If he had bad intentions, I’m sure that Headshot would have picked up on that and hidden his name to conceal him in our shadowy surrounds better.
“Yeah,” she answered. I guess there was no point in lying since he’d just about literally caught her red-handed in the attempt.
Reezer had a solid build, dark hair cut down in a shallow buzz, darker eyes and something shifty in the way his smile seemed to be commenting on everything without bothering to say a word. “Why bother?”
Sasha shrugged. “I thought it might be a good place to skill up, you know? I figured that it was quiet in there, and I had a couple of minutes to kill before the rest of my Guild got here.” I didn’t trust him, and I was glad that she’d just not so subtly let him know that she wasn’t alone. If a powerful Guild decided to make your life miserable, they certainly could.
Reezer chuckled. “But they aren’t here yet, are they?” He looked at her for a second while he waited for a reaction, but then he spoke before he got one. “A bunch of people are having problems logging in. Might have something to do with all that bullshit that went on last week, maybe. I guess it do
esn’t matter what. The point is, counting on your guildies ain’t gonna get you very far right now.”
Despite all that, now he had to decide if it was worth risking a week of being harassed just for a little time in the limelight now. I didn’t know which way to go, mostly because he looked to be one of those guys who didn’t think before reacting. It was obvious that he thought he knew better than everybody, in all situations.
His next words proved it “But you’re shit at playing, right? You won’t last long pulling shit like you trying to do with this door. I mean hell, I saw the sparks from more than a block away. And is that smoke that I’m smelling? Damn girl, I should probably have just stood back and watched you set yourself on fire for shit and giggles…”
“Maybe you should have.” She gave him a sidelong glance and trapped him with his ego. “It must be pretty easy to stand over there and tell me you know what you’re doing. It’s a lot harder than it looks, you know…”
“Bullshit.”
Sasha got a little more bold, rolling her eyes at him. “Says you. I’m the engineer. Trust me, soldier boy, this keypad is out of your league.”
Reezer didn’t like being spoken to like that, and when he stepped forward, I was pretty sure that was the end of Sasha. Instead, he reached out and snatched the battery from her. Sasha let it go. There was no point in a contest of strength, especially not when I got the sense that he was doing exactly what she wanted him to do.
Headshot_Two in the Head Page 11