Team Deathmatch: Killstreak

by Isaac Stone

  Time slowed down and he thought everything through before he did it. This wasn’t an online game where there would be no surprises, this was a whole different beast. No objects that fell from the ceiling or unexpected people in the room. Lucky. He heard the click of a magazine as it was inserted into a rifle. Kurt took a deep breath. Kurt brought up the rifle to shoulder level and starred through the scope. He needed to act fast when the door opened or he was out of the tournament before he could make good on the cash out.

  Kurt raised one booted foot up in the air and aimed it at a location below the doorknob. He tightened his muscles and slammed the boot hard as he could into the door.

  It flew open to reveal a thin young woman who carried a sniper rifle. Their eyes locked and she melted into a fiend from the nether regions of hell. It was black uniformed creature with maggots for a face and wore an iron cross. Kurt blinked and the Nazi Zombie stayed in its fiendish form.

  He squeezed the trigger and it was torn in half by seven well placed rounds. Kurt wanted to be sure.

  Kurt swept the room with the gun barrel, ready for anything that might try to take him out. He couldn’t find a thing. He kicked open the doors to the bedrooms and bathroom, but nothing. The creatures hadn’t sent more than one sniper into the room. This was the main reason the gamer unit on the ground couldn’t advance.

  He glanced out the window. The last stragglers of the beleaguered unit were inside the building. Good. It meant he’d achieved his primary goal. Kurt lowered his rifle and looked at what was on the floor and bed.

  There were at least three rifles and one grenade launcher. Whoever placed this sniper up here wanted them to hold off the gamers for as long as they could. There was plenty of ammunition for each of the weapons. Kurt thought about blowing this cache up too, but decided he didn't have the time.

  He went back down the hall and looked out. Silence.

  All was quiet across the street, although it was possible the sniper over there realized the building was wide open for attack. In most cases, the sniper would fall back and find another position. He didn’t know what they used over there, but Kurt bet the same tactics were followed.

  Kurt worked his way down the stairs to the main floor of the hotel. It was in a horrible state, no matter what part of it where he walked. He could hear the staccato fire of automatic weapons in the distance and the crack of single shots above him. Somehow, the unit pinned down by the sniper he’d eliminated found a way upstairs and was busy taking out the hellspawn one at a time.

  Four of the men he’d met earlier stood in the former lobby of the hotel and looked at him as he came down the staircase. He saw them with his scope’s IR mode, which he switched off the moment he was on the floor. There was plenty of sunlight that filtered down from the busted ceiling glass.

  “Good job on the sniper,” the man who was acting commander said to him as they met-up for the second time. “We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. Hope that triggered some points for you bro.” He carried his rifle across his chest.

  “What about the building across the street?” Kurt asked him. “There was a sniper or two in it as well. You have any of your people concentrating fire on it?”

  “I’ve got three guys on it,” he explained. “We wanted to come over here and make sure this location was secure.”

  “Any more gunfire?”

  “Just our guys taking out some stragglers. I don’t think any of them put up much of a fight.”

  “Sniper over here was alone,” Kurt explained. “I didn’t see anyone else after I dealt with it.” He looked the lobby up and down, and then returned his gaze to the acting commander. “Just where the hell are we? This hotel couldn’t be built in a short time and Ares couldn’t wrap it with this much of an illusion.” The AI system was limited by how much power it could generate.

  “My best guess is somewhere south of the border. There are a number of places he could lease from the government of Mexico. Could’ve been a tourist area before the fuel crisis. Abandoned township or small city that was easy to map and mask.”

  “I thought our literature said it was inside New Mexico.”

  “Do you expect Rashid to be truthful about everything?”

  Kurt nodded. It was a good point. Why share too much information? After the game was over, Rashid could reveal the real location and his reasons for using it. If nothing else, it kept the fanboys away who wanted to get in on the action.

  There was a large commotion outside and the men in the lobby dashed out to see what it was taking place. Kurt followed them.

  Outside, he found the rest of the unit shooting at the front of the opposite building. Ten or more Nazi Zombies ran from the main entrance and tried to escape the gunfire of the game players. Kurt brought the scope up to his level and sighted on one of them, but the thing fell to the ground before he could squeeze off a round. A second later, another one ran for the side of the building and he brought it down with a single shot from his rifle. The rest were mowed down by the unit. No more of the things emerged.

  “I thought you were supposed to be inside the building,” the commander snapped at his men.

  “We took the sniper out,” a young man in a blue jean jacket explained. “We came back out to see if you needed any help. Next thing we knew, these things streamed out of the front.” His eyes were a bit too wide.

  Kurt walked over and looked down. These were all of the dwarf variety and none of them carried a weapon. A chill went through his heart when he realized they were sacrificed for some other reason. Cannon fodder to distract the players and burn through more of their limited ammo. Sneaky. Diabolical. Badass.

  He looked up and tried to see if there was any more movement in the windows. It would’ve been a perfect way to lure him and the others out to the street.

  As he watched the windows for any sign of movement, Kurt heard the commander call out to him. “We’re moving on,” he yelled out. “You’re welcome to come with us. Not far to the final stage.”

  Kurt turned away from the window and back to the unit. “Thanks for the offer,” he called to him, “but I need to find some things out before I head that way. Good luck.” He returned to his study of the windows on the upper floor as he heard the boots of the men on the ground. Soon, they faded in the distance.

  Then he saw movement on the ground. It wasn’t where he expected it, but Kurt knew something wasn’t right about the last NZ assault. He brought up his rifle and clicked the visual enhancement on, as the movement was in the shadows. Something went between a burnt out vehicles and a side door into a building.

  Kurt walked over to the place he saw it. He kept his finger on the trigger just in case the thing made a run at him. He’d learned by now they could be unpredictable.

  To his surprise, two gnarled arms came up out from behind the burnt car body in a recognizable sign. Hands raised in the air, the rest of the thing rose up. Kurt still kept his finger on the trigger, as this could be a trap. The face of the thing had the appearance of rotted piece of cabbage. Bone was visible behind it.

  “English?” it said to him. “You speak English?” Kurt, who stood ten yards away nodded.

  “No shoot!” it shouted at him. “I have no guns. Please no shoot!”

  No Kurt was beyond confused. He didn’t think these things could speak, let alone beg for mercy. These were supposed to be creatures designed for the tournament that wanted to kill every human they could find. Kurt peered over his scope and looked at it carefully. This thing was still hideous to behold, that wasn’t an error in the scope.

  Chapter 15

  Somehow, Kurt didn’t expect to find a creature that talked in this place. It was one thing to see them as demons from the pit, another to have one plead for its life. He lowered his rifle and looked at the thing. Was this some new angle in the tournament? Kurt knew that the management reserved the right to change the rules at any time, but to do so would cause every gamer to leave. No one would have anything to do with a
game that didn’t have standard rules.

  “I find you Supreme Commander!” the thing yelled at him. “Please, no kill!” It seemed to shudder as he starred at it.

  “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now,” Kurt told it and realized how cliché that sounded. Where did he come up with these things?

  “I know where base is,” the thing said to him. “I find it for you.”

  Kurt lowered his gun further. Maybe this was Command’s way of keeping the game exciting. Right now, he didn’t have a clue as to what they had in mind, but he needed to find a solution. Maybe campaign mode had a bit more to it than he'd expected. He’d found out that the woman he thought was marriage material turned out to be plant designed to screw with the tournament and observe the game players. Although he was technically wearing a rubber suit with a helmet mask, this place felt very real.

  “You are the first one I’ve heard talk,” he told it. “Why have none of you spoken to us before?”

  “Because you try kill us,” it responded. “Why talk if you shoot us?”

  The sun was on its way down from the sky, but Kurt felt the sensation from it on his back. It never ceased to astound him how they could transmit sensory input across great distances.

  And where was this place? He didn’t think they were in New or Old Mexico any longer. Deathmatch could be staged anywhere with the proper equipment and set-up. From what he could tell, this place was a great location. However, it could be anywhere on the planet.

  In the distance, he heard more gunfire. The thing before him cringed, if it could be called making a gesture. Kurt didn’t know if this meant the other team was near the final staging location or someone wanted to get rid of some old ammunition.

  “You have a name?” he asked the creature. He could hardly think it possible, but everything was supposed to have a name, or so he’d been told.

  “Bob,” it said to him.

  “Bob?” Kurt repeated back. Your name is Bob?”

  “Yes,” it responded. “That good American name?”

  “Bob it is,” Kurt responded to it. “Name’s Kurt, pleased to meet you.”

  It struck Kurt that, although “Bob” the hellspawn might be a valuable asset, he still needed to check in with Command and find out what to do about his prisoner. Supposedly, Bob was a mechanical bot with a computer-enhanced wraparound to make him fit in with the game scenario.

  He pulled the radio out of his pouch and had a look at it. And, wonder of wonders, the surface was illuminated, which meant it received signals from Command. Kurt held it up and looked at Bob.

  “Don't run,” he told it.

  Kurt flipped the send switch on the radio and spoke into it. “Command, this is Kurt Silva, do you follow me? I have a prisoner,” he spoke into it,” How copy?”

  “Repeat last,” the voice on the other end spoke. “Did you say something about a prisoner?” There was crackle and Kurt hit the send button again.

  “Affirmative, Command, I have one of the Nazi Zombies. It’s looking at me and asked for mercy. I'm telling you, it spoke, and I don't have much of an ear for accents, but it doesn't sound all that German.”

  “Describe the prisoner,” the voice on the other end of the radio spoke to him.

  “About five-nine, black Nazi uniform, tentacles where the nose would be on a normal man’s face and too many teeth for one mouth.”

  “Give us a second, Silva; we need to check on this.”

  Kurt kept his eyes on Bob and watched the creature squirm as it didn’t seem to like the kind of attention it received at the moment.

  A few minutes later the radio squawked and Kick hit the receive button. “Silva, the higher ups say work with it. If it offers help, take it. Keep us informed of all developments.”

  “Roger Command, Silva out,” he replied into the microphone.

  “Command out,” He heard a click and the signal broke.

  “Well, Bob,” Kurt said to the thing, “it appears you get to live a bit longer. They tell me go with the flow. So how come you were out here when all that shooting started?”

  “I come back for things,” it told him. “Guns shoot, I run. I end up here.”

  “Somehow, I don’t get the feeling you were part of that last outfit,” Kurt told it, "What brought you here?"

  “Needed to find something.”

  “Uh huh. Alright, Bob,” Kurt spoke, “Why don’t you take me to see this Supreme Commander you talked about?”

  “Now?” the creature asked him.

  “Yes, Bob, now.”

  “It far from here.”

  “I don’t care; we need to have a look. Please don’t run or I’ll have to shoot you. Now let’s go.” He motioned with the rifle, not sure if he should be laughing or frightened that he was about to be, by all indications, led to Adolf Hitler himself.

  Bob nodded in understanding and left the spot where he was hidden.

  He didn’t look much better in the sunlight than in the shadows, with bones protruding from his face. It was at this moment that Kurt realized the Ares AI was fully in control of the reality of the world around him. Whatever Bob really appeared to be, he would never know, so long as Ares continued to manipulate the appearance of everything.

  Bob. Yeah right.

  Playing a game with rules that changed was almost like real life. Get up, go to work, clock in and find out the boss has a new announcement. The division was sold last week to a new company and now you are working for people you didn’t know before. Next day you come in, half the plant, including you, was idled. You get to go home. Did anything change on your part? Did anything change on the market’s part? In both cases, the answer is no but too bad because your input doesn’t count.

  As Bob took Kurt through the outskirts of the town, he remarked to himself at the detail of it all. Even if the buildings were computer enhanced wraps, it still left a lot of poles and wire to cover. He thought about touching some of these buildings, but decided against it. Kurt continued onward behind Bob, always his eyes on the creature. He didn’t trust Bob to do what he promised and for obvious reasons. Right now, all Kurt wanted to do was to find this place and perhaps get a quick way to the final goal of the game. If this helped him find a solution, maybe even kill Hitler, so much the better. Perhaps he'd finish with the tournament in the bag after all.

  At last, Bob took him up to a place that appeared to be a warehouse of some kind. So far, Kurt hadn’t seen one street sign on any of the buildings. Why this was, he couldn’t understand. Surely, Ares could scramble them if it could create an entire world out of scratch. Wouldn’t it have been easier for Ares to scramble the signs into some kind of unreadable language? He thought about asking Bob where they were, but decided it wasn’t important. Besides, what motivation would Bob have to give him? This assumed he would even understand the question. Kurt wasn’t sure Bob even understood English that much. No reason to slow things down to explain them.

  “Here is Supreme Command,” he told him as they walked up to the warehouse. Kurt still held the gun in Bob’s direction.

  The headquarters of the Supreme Command, if that is what it was supposed to be, didn’t seem very impressive. It was made from corrugated metal and didn’t have any windows or doors on it. In the heat of the sun, this was something to keep in mind. Kurt noticed power lines that led up to it, but couldn’t tell if they were live ones. Since power was nominally supplied to these buildings, it was safe to assume the lines were still hot. He didn’t feel like touching them to find out.

  “So how do we get in here, Bob?” Kurt asked the small creature. “Don’t get any ideas about taking me through a dark passage. I have night vision on this scope and you’ll not be able to move fast enough.”

  Bob walked him around the side and put up something that registered as a hand to get him to stop. He motioned for Kurt to walk slowly. Kurt took his advice and peered around the corner of the warehouse.

  There was a huge door to the front that was open.
Kurt could see one column after another of Nazi Zombies march into it. It reminded him of something he saw years ago on an old video.

  They backed up to another building across from it. This new location was much smaller than the one Bob wanted him to see, but it allowed him a chance to observe the action that took place inside the larger one. In a few minutes, they’d found some crates to hide behind that were out in front of the second building.

  Kurt, one eye still on Bob, placed the scope of the assault rifle to his face and looked into the building where all the Nazi Zombies entered a few minutes ago. Inside the building was a vast assembly of the creatures, all of whom seemed to be drilling in formation for something. Kurt watched as an entire detachment of the things marched out in front of a few officers and practiced their maneuverability skills in an open area inside the warehouse. There were easily a hundred or more of them. Against the remaining game players, even from the Top Hundred, it would be a beast of a battle. He wasn't sure how many player were still standing, but as long as they hadn't gone all PvP on each other prematurely there should be at least forty or so, maybe more. Kurt noted military trucks parked and ready to go. The NZ’s had plenty of ammunition and weapons. All they lacked was a target, but one was forthcoming. And it didn’t take a born genius to know where those armed columns would be sent at any moment.

  A few of the officers went over some maps with the enlisted men. Kurt didn't know what the Nazi Zombie equivalent might be in the ranks. It was hard to tell what they were supposed to be since the uniforms didn’t make sense and the faces were so messed-up. He saw a shimmering of one column. It turned human for a few seconds, and then shifted into the form of a dozen hell creatures. Ares had a problem and couldn’t figure out what form to use. Unless they were hellspawn shapeshifters, the concept of which made Kurt's brain hurt. Better to shoot everything in sight.

  It was plain as day that these armed NZ’s were about to attack the position held by the game players as they swarmed to the final staging area. Kurt didn’t know what they were doing right now, he didn’t even know what they planned to do, but it didn’t matter. So many Nazi Zombies could take down the forty or so gamers who were probably left, if most of the teams had fared about as well as his own, hopefully a bit better. What was the reason behind this and why had Rashid hid so many of them? It bothered him, as it was crucial that the game players clear the NZ’s out of the town before they could even attempt to win the game. This really was going to be a meat grinder that came down to the last player standing.