Deadhead: A Zombie Apocalypse LitRPG Novella

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Deadhead: A Zombie Apocalypse LitRPG Novella Page 6

by David Payne


  “Are you infected if you get blood in the eyes?” I asked.

  “Yes you are son, and you have about two days to find the antidote.”

  “Antidote?”

  “Yes”, he continued, “some scientists managed to discover an antidote in the months after the outbreak. It protects against infection and can take away infection. They may have some stock at the town but it will come at a price.”

  Shit, I was already down one life and here I was the fucking walking infected.

  “Then we better haul ass people”, said Ted. “We don’t all want it to be all over when we’ve barely started now do we?”

  We strode forward past the old man.

  “All the best my friends, good luck. You will need it in these times.”

  _________________

  Just as we were approaching the woods the old man had told us about, the GM appeared in front of us.

  “Congratulations. You have completed level one”, he said. “You have all done well to get his far, I can tell you many players did not wish to come back after they had experienced being eaten alive. One willpower point will be added to all of you, on top which you have five other points to be allocated as you see fit. Those of you who killed over fifty zombies may add an extra point. You are all now level seven.”

  Damn, just a kill count of forty nine. I would be one short.

  I decided to add to my strength and agility, always important in battles, of which there would surely be many to come.

  Level 7

  Mana: 17

  Strength: 13

  Endurance: 10

  Speed: 10

  Agility: 12

  Willpower: 9

  Intelligence: 10

  Luck: 8

  “So what’s the objective of the whole game exactly?” Sara asked. “I mean, what are we trying to do exactly in the zombie apocalypse? Just get as high a kill count as possible, or is there a specific quest?”

  “You must discover that for yourself”, said the GM, “all will be revealed in due course.” I wasn’t sure if the AI was self aware or not, but the expression on that face gave the impression of somebody who enjoyed being all vague and mysterious.

  “Your physical bodies must all rest now. The game will pause and you will resume in six hours exactly, so get the food and rest you need. You must be back in six hours, or you will be ejected from the game.”

  This was a GM who really laid down the law.

  ________________

  I laid the helmet onto the bed, and then lay back to stretch my limbs. I had never felt the need to stretch so much in my life. I wondered how long I had been lying there completely unmoving. What was the time scale from virtual world to real world? My stomach was rumbling, which told me it had been hours.

  I got up to walk around the room, my body welcoming being active again, it was then that the door opened and in popped a small, neatly dressed man whom I assumed was one of Tony’s minions.

  He was carrying a tray on which there was a large sandwich which looked to be filled with several layers of salad and meat, potato crisps, and a large bottle of fruit juice.

  He laid it down on the table, and then walked away without saying anything.

  “Excuse me”, I said. “I, um, can I leave the room? Is there a toilet nearby?”

  “Yes, you can do whatever you like, just be sure to be back in six hours, best get some rest.”

  It was as he shut the door that I started wondering what would happen if anyone playing the game didn’t get enough to eat or sleep while playing? Could some serious mental or physical damage be done? This was the criminal underworld after all, and perhaps they weren’t too big on health and safety regulations. I guess we had all made a choice to come here.

  I sat down and tucked into my meal. It tasted just as good as it looked.

  ________________

  I decided to take a stroll around the place before getting some sleep. As I stepped out into the corridor, I was greeted by the sight of a man with a damp patch in his trousers, being dragged along by two heavies. The man could hardly stand and had bloodshot eyes that made it look as though he had not slept in days. His white shirt t-shirt was soaked in what I assumed was sweat, and the smell confirmed that the damp path in his trousers was what I thought it was.

  He mumbled something unintelligible. I strained my ears but it was like trying to make out what a drunk guy was saying. I stuck my back to the wall to get out of their way, the heavies barely acknowledging me as they dragged him past me then past several working girls who were standing in the corridor. They barely paid the scene any heed, as if they were used to this kind of thing.

  “Hello my friend.”

  It was Tony.

  “What…”

  “Oh, that guy just got eaten alive I believe.”

  “He’s playing Deadhead?”

  “Yes, he was playing Deadhead.”

  “So, what was wrong with him?”

  Tony shrugged his shoulders.

  “I think sometimes the trauma in the game affects the real world body, like if you piss your pants in the game you piss your pants in the real world. It’s different for everybody. To be honest we haven’t really figured everything out yet. But hey, it’s not like anybody is going to sue are they? Anyway, don’t worry Joey, I know you’re a tough son of a bitch. I bet you can take anything this game throws at you.”

  He was right of course, what was anybody going to do if this game traumatised then for life? Take them to court? Had anyone ever sued a drug dealer if they’d bought a bad batch? Then something else occurred to me.

  “So, you said he was playing. Are there others left, I mean, besides just the three of us?”

  “Ha ha! Now that wold be telling Joey my boy! Telling you something like that would just be against the rules.”

  As he spoke two figures appeared from out of a door down the corridor. Vince had a young, scrawny guy with glasses by the scruff of the neck. Tears were streaming down the guys’ face, along with blood from his nose.

  “I’m…s…sorry…I’m…”

  “Yeah, you are sorry aren’t you! Fucking pussy ass little motherfucker!”

  Tony physically booted the snivelling retch in the backside as Vince hauled him by.

  “Goddamn that guy. Perma-death happens and he starts spitting the dummy out and breaking equipment. You know these helmets cost some serious dough. Vince had to give that guy a friendly little reminder that this isn’t gaming at home in his bedroom. You just do not trash what doesn’t belong to you. It’s against the rules. It’s bad fucking manners.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” I decided to refrain from telling Tony that I could sympathise with the feeling of being so angry that you wanted to break equipment, and that maybe he could show a little restraint toward gamers who had lost the plot.

  “So anyway”, said Tony, swiftly changing the subject. “You got less than six hours. What do you want to do? Want to try some of the ladies? There’s a discount for gamers.”

  “Um no, I better get some sleep, I think my body needs the rest.”

  “No worries, you catch your beauty sleep. If you need any help when it comes to getting the helmet back on just press the button in the table, somebody will be with you. Good luck my friend. Level up and all that.”

  With that Tony slapped me on the shoulder and walked away, leaving me to mull over everything I had just seen. I did have the option of quitting, of saying to Tony right now I didn’t want to play anymore. I stood there for a few seconds, then went back into my room and shut the door.

  ______________

  Level 2

  Objective: Find the antidote.

  We were marching at a brisk pace through the woods, in the knowledge that if we didn’t want to be in ‘situation fucked’ (Ted’s words) on level two, then we had better hurry it up. The thing was, we were not being told just how many levels there were, which was no doubt all part of the fun.

  There was a dirt road which
ran right through the forest which we were sticking too. We hadn’t come across any zombies yet although we were all keeping our eyes peeled, squinting into the dark recesses among the trees for any movement. I breathed in the refreshing green scent of the forest. I had never been much of an outdoors person, but this was a scent that made me feel…was alive the word I was looking for?

  “What you thinking about?” Said Sara.

  “Nothing much.” I responded.

  “Nothing much huh?”

  “So what did you do in the real world?”

  “Um, well…” I didn’t want to tell her the truth, even though I had been blunt with her earlier about why I was here. I felt like I didn’t want her to know I didn’t have a job and just spent all day gaming. The truth was, I had hardly ever had a real conversation with a female in my life. They didn’t want to know me at high school, and it was pretty much the same after I had left.

  “Uh, computer programmer.” I lied, then quickly changed the subject. “So are you real?” I blurted out. “I mean, you didn’t answer earlier. Are you a woman? You know…”

  “What’s it to you? What do you care if I’m a three hundred pound fat guy?” She gave me that knowing smile again.

  “I don’t…I mean I do…I mean…well…just curious you know. I’m just making conversation…like people do, like asking them what they do for a living and all that.”

  “Ha! Of course you are. Well Joe, yes, I am a girl, and I am about thirty. I’m a part time check out girl at the local supermarket and a full time dreamer. I’m always dreaming of a better life, getting away from it all. I want to get away from the life where you spend the week doing a job you hate and then get drunk at the weekends and that’s as good as it gets.”

  “So that’s why you game?”

  “Yeah, you feel like somebody when you conquer a world don’t you?”

  “Yes.” My god. I was actually relating to another person.

  “That was why I wanted to do this game. I heard about it from a friend, that this was like life itself, and then she told me about the money. This was my chance, my chance to…”

  Ted stopped and raised his clenched fist all of a sudden. I had seen enough war movies to know that meant we were to stop and be silent.

  “What…” Sara started, but I put my finger to my lips. Perhaps she hadn’t seen the war movies I had.

  And then we heard it. Was there another horde of undead coming our way? Ambling or running through the forest? My hand went to my pocket to bring out the nail.

  But then I heard a roaring, a bellowing of sorts. It was not the moans and voiceless rasps of the undead, it was an animal of some sorts, and it seemed to be coming from up ahead of us. Underneath the roar there was something else, like some high pitched screeching…I couldn’t place it.

  “Let’s take cover”, said Ted.

  We scampered off the road and into the trees, taking cover behind a fallen tree in the semi-darkness.

  “What the fuck?” Ted said under his breath, as we peered through the branches.

  We were looking at a lion. An actual-well, a very good virtual-lion was the source of the animal roars. I thought for a second. Where was this game set? I had assumed the United States, which would mean no wild lions. Perhaps this one had escaped from the zoo, or perhaps the game was a composite of the real world. Whichever it was we were still looking at a lion, and it was hurt.

  The king of the beasts was limping along, unable to put his weight on his front right paw and the famous lion mane was covered in red, as was much of the rest of his body.

  “Should we do something?” Said Sara

  I checked his stats.

  Lion

  Level 3

  Mana: 8

  Strength: 5

  Endurance: 5

  Speed: 4

  Willpower: 5

  Intelligence: 4

  Agility: 4

  If our stats at the start were the baseline for a human, then a fit lion would surely have had some stats way higher than ours, but he was in real bad shape. Was this a challenge of sorts? Would it be best to help him-however we’d do that-put him out of his misery, or just ignore him?

  I assumed he had been attacked by zombies and had somehow escaped, but then I realised there were small holes all over his body, as if he had been somehow punctured by lots of needles, red rivulets dripping down his yellow hide.

  And that screeching was getting louder and louder, it was emanating from just up the road where the lion had come from. He tried to limp along faster, but it was to no avail.

  All our eyes were now trained on the road, our hearts pounding as we awaited the visual to match the sounds.

  Rats. Hundreds. Thousands. A seething black river pouring down the road. But these were no ordinary rats. These were zombie rats.

  The flaring red eyes of thousands of tiny black flesh eaters were fixed on their prey. Clearly the lion had escaped their attentions earlier, but now he was all theirs’. These rate were not ambling along. I knew rats could scurry quickly enough in the real world, and it appeared these rate were sped up rather than slowed down by their undead state, drawn by the blood of their quarry.

  Several of the undead rodents stopped suddenly, frenziedly lapping at the lion blood in the road, the rest scurrying over them in their haste to get to the source.

  This reminded me of one of those nature programs you saw on TV of an army of ants marching across the jungle floor. An ant by itself was no more than a nuisance and could be squished with minimal effort. But a whole army of ants? No matter, how big, mean and tough you were, you got the fuck out of the way.

  As the horde descended on the unfortunate lion, I had the presence of mind to bring up the stats. I was obsessed with seeing the stats, it was like a physical need.

  Zombie rat

  Level 1

  Mana: 2

  Strength: 1

  Endurance: 7

  Speed: 20

  Agility: 8

  Willpower: 9

  Intelligence: 5

  Zombie rat horde

  Level 50

  Mana: 10 000

  Strength: 50

  Endurance: 14

  Speed: 20

  Agility: 25

  Willpower: 15

  Intelligence: 5

  Even injured the lion could have made a meal of one of the rats with his mighty jaws (though swallowing undead meat might not be good for his health) but against the horde he was doomed.

  Sara gasped, Ted swore, and I just looked on as the rats at the front propelled themselves up off their tiny feet and through the air into the huge body of the lion.

  The beast threw his head back and roared in pain as they struck him, the little fuckers clinging to him like leaches. He tried snapping at them with his jaws, flicking at them with his tail, but anything in his limited arsenal was pretty much useless now.

  The rest of the horde caught up with him, the first wave clamping their tiny jaws onto his paws, the next wave climbing over them and gnawing at his legs. His anguished cries were getting louder and louder, merging with the rat screeching to create a hideous cacophony of animals sounds echoing throughout the woods.

  They clambered up his legs, onto his body, joining the others already hanging from his sides. With horror I could see that some of them were actually burrowing into his body, their zombie teeth cutting like a buzz-saw, creating small holes through which their heads and then entire bodies disappeared into.

  The lion collapsed onto his side and was instantly swarmed. In seconds there no yellow in sight, there was only a black writhing mass in the shape of a lion, with the occasional jet of red high into the air as the mini flesh eaters feasted.

  “Those fuckers are like fucking piranhas”, said Ted. “They’ll have all that stripped to a skeleton in no time.”

  More and more were arriving, snapping at each other as they fought for the limited amount of flesh.

  “We best get of here, I don’t know if these fu
cks have a sense of smell or not, but I’d rather not stick around to find out.”

  Sara and I nodded our heads in agreement. We took our leave, keeping low and quiet.

  Just before we were out of sight of the carnage on the road, I saw that some of the undead rodents were now scurrying over a white ribcage. Ted was right.

  So, animal could be zombies too. This world had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

  _________________

  Dayton: Population 3043

  So had said the sign when we got to the town. In a piece of dark humour, somebody had written, ‘kinda sorta’ next to the population number. No doubt a not to subtle nod to the fact that the townspeople were dead but on their feet.

  The old man we had met had told us this was civilisation, but we saw now sign of it. We were in the town centre, which was a literal square, with roads in all directions. Right in the centre of the square, was a statue of a historical figure that had been of no doubt much importance to the town’s residents.

  Several zombies were milling around the statue. Were they holding onto some past life memory?

  Their attention was now on us, and thankfully there were no runners, only walkers.

  We strode up to them, as they shambled toward us, and plunged our respective weapons into their eyeballs. Green circle to red and drop down dead. Single shambling zombies had never been much of an opponent in any game. Like the rats, they were a problem in numbers.

  I wiped my nail upon the sports top of the dead walker, the hundred dollar shirt now just a rag for cleaning blood off weapons.

  “How’s everybody’s mana?” I asked. Mine was down to twelve. I could feel something coming on, like when you had the beginnings of cold and didn’t feel too bad yet, but knew you were about to get a whole lot weaker.

  “Eleven”, said Sara.

  “Twelve”, replied Ted. “We need that vaccine, or whatever you call it, but there ain’t no son of a bitch here.”

  “Let’s go exploring”, I said. I suspected we were meant to explore. While I mainly liked blowing stuff up, I had always liked the gaming element of entering a house, or turning a corner, not knowing what you were going to find. I had the sense that what we were looking for, one way or another, was in these seemingly deserted shops that had once been thriving business, but were now just broken windows and empty shelves, no doubt looted when the whole thing had kicked off.

 

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