by Isaac Stone
He waited and looked at the screen on the small box. It gave him a busy signal, but something was happening on his end of the control. Kurt looked up and saw the man on the ground stand up with a bloody head. He staggered off to the warehouse. As he did, three of the things with no face walked over and took him away. The man pointed back at the drone and screamed something they couldn’t hear from inside the drone. It was only then that Kurt recognized the tiny little mustache on the small man, and realized he'd blown his chance at the Fuhrer.
Four of the faceless things picked up BAR guns from the ground and began to walk in the direction of the drone. Kurt calculated they had moments before the things reached them. They had a lot less if the faceless ones decided to use those BAR guns right away.
Kurt looked down on the small screen and saw the word “accept” appear in green. He did a prayer of thanks and pushed a button on the box.
The rotors of the drone began to spin. They were at lift-off speed in 45 seconds as Kurt wanted to get the hell out of that place and as fast as he could. He felt the body of the drone vibrate as it lifted into the air. In seconds, they were rising into the sky.
Kurt looked down and saw the faceless ones raise their guns and take aim. However, the drone shifted to a new position. He struggled against the safety harness as it moved away from the warehouse and to a position out of range. They fired off a few rounds, but none was of any use.
Kurt was about to ask Bob, who starred out in amazement as the ground dropped, something about the possible location of his zombie fam when he heard the headphones squawking next to him between the chairs. He’d neglected to put them after during the capture of the drone.
He placed them on his head just to see what the hollering was over.
“Go for Silva,” he said.
“Goddammit you get that drone back down!” a voice yelled. “You have no right to steal company property.” Kurt recognized the voice as one of the Command operators.
“Could you give me some idea as to what’s going on down there?” Kurt asked the voice on the other end. “I took the drone because we were trapped down here and needed to get to the staging area. I understand the final push is on to get into that location where the transmitter is kept. I’m thinking it might be a good idea to fly over there and get ahead of everyone else. I thought this drone was in play,” Kurt looked out and noted the drone stayed still in the air space, a good two hundred feet off the ground.
“Damn you to hell!” the voice shouted. “I just got off the phone with Rashid himself. Do you have any idea how much of a mess you created by stealing that drone? I have a mind to cut the power and let it fall! How would you like that?” The speaker on the box almost burnt with anger.
“You are welcome to try,” Kurt spoke to the box. “I'm starting to feel like I was supposed to die in that ambush, quick and easy so nobody would be able to see through my eyes anymore. Those new zombies in the spawn point, they're game enders aren't they? You guys never meant for us to win.”
The speaker went silent, but Kurt knew it was only because the operator on the other end was furious over what happened. Now there was no way they could carry out whatever plan was in progress. A series of plans, perhaps. Plans that didn’t figure in a lone gamer stealing a drone and taking off with it. Right now, all Kurt had was time and he intended to stay up in the air until he had some answers.
“Okay, you bastard,” the voice said. “We can’t get the drone on line. However, you’ll have to bring it down eventually. Those batteries have a life to them and they’ll need to be recharged. Besides, all we have to do is kill the connection to your real body in that chamber and you’ll be stuck.”
Kurt smiled again. “You go right ahead and cut the feet,” he challenged the voice. “What do you think will happen when the world finds out you were ready to kill a gamer just so you could get the drone back? They'll sniff out whatever coverup you try.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m in deep stasis, shithead. You cut the connection line too quick, I could die when I snap back. And don’t try anything funny with Ares either. I’ve still got the case your man had when he tried to leave the drone.”
“Where the hell is Simon? That’s the man who the drone delivered.”
“Safe and sound on the ground, more or less.”
There was a sound from the other side of the drone and Kurt turned to face Bob who held the case in his clawed hands. Bob wanted Kurt to see, as the case was wide open. Either Bob was good with locks or someone didn’t lock it tight in the first place. He held the case open for Kurt to see the contents.
Inside it was ten bars of adamantium. Simon was a bagman of some type who transported the bars to those faceless things in the warehouse. Kurt reached over and picked up one of the bars. It had weight. This was real adamantium, not some simulation created by Ares. Kurt placed the bar back into its case. That was far too valuable a substance to just be a prop for the game.
“Alright, Command,” Kurt spoke into the microphone, “I think I see part of the problem here. We got the case open, and you sent your man Simon here with some awful pretty trinkets for those things down in the warehouse. Now, tell me, why would a bunch of bots need all that precious metal? Did they plan on doing some upgrades?”
The headphones exploded with more expletives than Kurt ever heard before.
“So are you going to tell me what is happening down there?” Kurt asked him. “Because I can forget about that whole line of conversation and go after that grand prize. Good luck covering that up if I win it fair and square.”
“Guess again, asshole,” the voice snapped. “What makes you think that Rashid will give it up after you’ve stolen his drone?” Kurt heard a little chuckle over the line.
“Besides,” the voice continued, “it’s all about to come to an end anyway. So you can stay up there until your fucking props jam.” Kurt heard a disconnect on the line.
He was about to ask the voice what he meant when the signal was broken. It seemed he had all the high cards with the adamantium bars and drone that could hover for a long time. Kurt was ready to try to reestablish contact with Command when Bob pointed at something on the ground. He turned to look.
The columns of hellspawn sent out by the warehouse were on their way back. And they did not look victorious.
Kurt could see them limp as they came. The images of wounded Nazi Zombies flipped in and out, as Ares tried to keep the illusion active. However, behind them was something else. Kurt, however, couldn’t see what it was all about just then. But it didn’t look good, something was driving the zombies back.
Chapter 17
The drone continued to hover for another five minutes while Kurt tried to look out and get a bearing on what he should do next. Kurt heard a yelp from Bob and turned to look at the creature. He still had issue with being in the same space as a beast that wore an SS uniform and resembled a fiend from the worst recesses of the inner mind.
Bob gestured down to the ground and Kurt leaned over to look.
On the ground, a small detachment of NZ’s were in process of pushing Bob’s wife and what he assumed to be kids into the back of a truck. They’d located Bob’s family, but now had to get them to safety. The sun beat down from the sky and Kurt could feel it on his bones, no matter where he was located.
Kurt grabbed the navigational override box and began to check it for coordinates. It was hard to understand, but he didn’t have the time to figure out where they were located in the real world. Once he was given the numbers by the system, Kurt punched in the numbers he needed to get the drone to land in front of the truck. He wasn’t sure how good the coordinates were, but he lacked the time to check them. Kurt prayed to the Goddess of Fortune and hit the “enter” button.
The drone began to descend from the sky a bit too quick for his tastes, but at least it went in the right direction. Kurt removed his earphones after Command quit screaming at him and could hear the blades change pitch. The drone ma
de for the truck on the ground and soared over the top as it left a shadow in the wake. The truck driver, one of the big faceless things in a brown uniform stuck what resembled a head out of the truck. The truck stopped.
Kurt could see it in front of him as the drone came down. They landed fast. The final ten seconds of the descent were so quick that Kurt thought it would have a hard landing, but the drone sensed the ground beneath it and slowed down. It still managed to land with a loud thump. The blades began to slow down, but Kurt didn’t notice any damage lights come on. He knew it was built to take a hard and fast landing.
By the time, the door swung open on the side of the drone, Kurt had his safety harness off and followed Bob out with both guns ready. Neither of them had any idea how many of the faceless things were in the truck, but they had to move with speed.
Kurt swung up his assault rifle and stared through the scope as the faceless thing tried to lean out of the truck and shoot at him. He dropped it in one shot and managed to get the second creature as it dropped from behind the truck.
Bob already had the pistol out and shot at the cab on the truck with both hands gripped around the pistol. He didn’t have a lot of range with the thing, but at least he managed to take out three of the faceless things as they tumbled out of the truck.
In a matter of moments, they’d taken control of the vehicle. Kurt followed Bob as they ran around to the back of it.
Pistol raised in the air, Bob ripped away the tarp that covered the rear of the truck. One final faceless thing in a brown uniform almost shot him, but Kurt had the rear of the truck in his scope. He squeezed the trigger twice and the thing fell off the truck as both bullets struck home.
Before Kurt could catch up to him, Bob was already in the back of the truck. Kurt, rifle still in firing position, came up to the rear and looked inside.
Bob was reunited with his family. Considering all of the tentacles in play, it looked disgusting.
He was hugging all four of them inside the truck. Through the haze of the enhancement Ares slapped on the scene, Kurt had the suspicion none of this was invented for the story. He heard a sound that could be crying, even though the entire family resembled hellspawn.
Once again, Kurt was struck that robots don’t cry. They didn’t have any emotion; just ran whatever programs assigned to them. Something had gone off the rails here, but there'd been so much weird in the last hour of his life that Kurt just went with it, trusting in his rifle to get him through.
Bob pulled his clan out of the truck and ran with them to the drone. Before Kurt could object, he had the door to the rear of it open. When Kurt walked up to the drone, Bob had them all safely packed in the seats behind the front ones they’d used.
“Take back,” Bob told him.
“I have no idea where to take you,” Kurt explained. “The map doesn’t list any place you would want to go.” At least not for rogue robots, "Your AI is glitchy Bob, or some sloppy story mode that was never perfected got activated, I'm not sure, and Command isn't exactly cluing me in, because to the outside world this looks like a daring rescue op."
“Where you found me,” Kurt heard Bob speak. He seemed serious.
“That I can do, it’s close enough,” Kurt told him. “Don’t know what good it will do you, but it’ll get you out of this place.”
The two of them climbed into the front of the drone and buckled into the harness. Kurt took the navigational box out and found the original location where Bob first appeared. A few figures were entered into it and the rotors began to increase in speed.
A few minutes later, the drone was on its way down the location where he’d met Bob. It was rocky terrain and he didn’t think it could land, but the drone came down without much of an issue.
There wasn’t even a bump this time as it landed, although the terrain was rough and filled with rubble. The drone’s rotors slowed down and Kurt waited until they were stopped before they left. The moment the two of them were outside, Bob went to the rear door and opened it. Kurt stood aside as an over-joyed Bob brought out his wife and kids.
“Nice family you have there,” Kurt lied as they were reunited. He wished Bob could speak and tell him what they all looked like without the Ares visual wrap. Kurt didn’t think they were bots built for the game by now, or at least ones that weren't supposed to be in this scenario, perhaps a discarded and half-written side quest. As a matter of fact, he didn’t even know what they were supposed to be.
“I guess this is where we part,” Kurt started to say to Bob. “Can’t say it wasn’t fun, don’t understand how you fit into the big scheme of things, but I've got a tournament to win, or at least try to survive.”
Kurt heard a scampering sound and looked up to see twenty or so game players march down the street toward them. This had to be the force that had delivered the beat-down to the creatures sent out by the Supreme Command in the warehouse.
None of them appeared to be unscathed. It must have been a hell of a fight. As Bob ran to hide his family in the spot where Kurt found him, the first of the gamers walked up to Kurt, gun in hand.
“So where the hell is this place the rest of those things are holed up?” the man asked Kurt. He appeared to be about 25 and carried a small machine gun. Kurt couldn’t tell what make it was.
“Just up ahead,” Kurt told him. “What the hell happened to you guys? Is this all that’s left?”
“All we got,” the man told him. “Every squad, unit or duo. I’m calling the shots, by the way. You can call me Jim, because everyone else does. You’re Kurt, right?” Kurt nodded.
“We heard you had a drone? A private message that got sent to all of us, but not from Command, we thing it was from Jesse Arkansas. This the drone by chance?”
“This is it,” Kurt responded.
“We can’t get to the transmitter until all these freaks are dead. Well, dead or equivalent. What was that thing you were talking to?” Jim looked around to see where Bob had gone.
“That thing was Bob,” Kurt explained. “It was the name I gave it. I don’t think all these Nazi Zombies are bots meant for Killstreak, maybe some other development and they've been mis-allocated.”
“How could you tell with the visual wrap around them?”
“They don’t act like the Nazi Zombie bots. By the way, did Command tell you there tried to send a bag man here with a fortune in adamantium?”
“No, how did you find that out?”
Kurt took Jim over to the drone and opened the door. He opened the case they’d found and let Jim see what was inside.”
“Holy shit,” Jim spoke when the gleam struck his eye. “Why would they send someone in with this?”
“I have no idea,” Kurt replied. “Something we need to ask Rashid’s people when the tournament ends. I think maybe our collective boss is trying to scam his own tournament.”
“Maybe, as soon as we got that message from Jesse all of our Command coms went down.”
It was just as Kurt had thought. Once there was a possibility of the truth coming out about the nature of the tournament, Rashid slapped down hard on the sources that came out of the games. He’d locked down most of the information. Kurt wondered how Rashid managed to keep the coverage of the game moving along. Kurt imagined a legion of editors streamlining the feeds.
“We’ll deal with it later,” Jim announced. “Show us where that warehouse place is and we can bring this thing to an end. Ten million dollars is still ten million dollars.” By now, most of the other armed gamers were caught up to them.
Kurt led them in the direction of the warehouse where the faceless things were holding out. He didn’t know how this was supposed to go down, but there were quite a few of the enemy as opposed to the unit he found himself with at the moment. Jim had them break step as they came into view of the warehouse. No reason to make it easy to be recognized.
“What happened at the staging area?” Kurt asked Jim as they made their way to the warehouse. “I didn’t think any of you would make
it out. I saw those armored NZ columns leave. Appeared they had all the guns and ammunition they needed.”
“They had a lot of enthusiasm, and they had the numbers, but something wasn’t right with their weapons. We took out most of them and I don’t think more than half of them ever fired a shot. They didn’t expect it either. You could see the frustration as they tried to fire and nothing happened. Hell, it was a turkey shoot. Still, they had the numbers, so we didn't get out clean.”
It wasn’t so easy once they reached the warehouse.
A few of the faceless sentries spotted them and sounded the alarm. However, the gamers had the initiative and swept across the front of the building and into the perimeter of the warehouse.
Kurt saw three of the faceless ones rush out of the warehouse. He let loose with a barrage of gunfire from his rifle. He managed to bring down two while a third was taken out by a gun from the gamer side. The air was filled with the smoke of rifles and the sound of bullets being fired. In minutes, the front of the warehouse was pitted by the shells from the weapons of the gamers. They were ready to use their guns on anything that moved. Kurt saw one young man drop to the ground and open up on a faceless thing in a brown uniform as it charged at him. More gunfire raked the front of the warehouse as they moved closer. The players were losing team members sporadically, but they were positively massacring the enemy.
One inside the warehouse, the firefight intensified. Kurt watched through the scope of his rifle as small units of the faceless things attacked and counter-attacked while the gamers dug deep into whatever positions they could find. Kurt found an office of some kind and jumped inside. They were still far too close to the entrance of the building for him to feel comfortable, but it was the best he could do at the time. Kurt shoved aside machine parts as he cracked open the door and lowered the barrel of his rifle down at the enemy on the other side. Jim and two of the other gamers saw him and nodded in recognition.
To his horror, Kurt watched as a team of the three brown uniformed things began to bring up a 50-caliber machine gun to the front. It was almost an antique, but the heavy 80-pound gun still worked. One of them made certain the tripod was in place while another sat behind hit. A third readied the cartridge belt to be fed into the gun. So long as the belt could be fed into it, they had no issue laying down a field of fire at the advancing gamer forces. Worse, the machine gun could sweep across the back entrance to the warehouse.