Rapture (Apocalypse Gates Author's Cut Book 1)
Page 9
“That could change things up,” Alvin muttered, imagining how it could help him. “All the extra carry space, would make looting easier.”
“You can use the fanny pack and the backpack at the same time. But you can’t equip any two of the same bag,” Scott provided.
“Sucks, but it makes sense from your point of view. Three grand seems a little steep right now, though,” Alvin replied.
“You are close to World Mode, which makes it very likely you will find things that you want to hold onto. You’ve already found the first way to make sure you can bring things back. Now think about carting things back here, then being able to store them to grab for later use while in the World.”
“Yeah,” Alvin agreed, weighing that option against upgrading his fanny pack and maybe getting a medkit. It was unlikely that he’d need to carry the bat now that he had a gun. He kept looking through the store as he turned the ideas over. There was a lot more available than there had been the first time he looked.
He paused again when he came to the medical section. “Seriously? A grand for the medkit, two grand gets you a regrowth kit that replaces a lost limb, and five grand gets you a health potion that will fully restore your entire body, replacing limbs as well?”
“Yes. It was decided to offer a cheaper option for those who experience limited damage.” Scott replied.
“Hmm, I need to think about this,” Alvin said as he sat on his bunk, mentally reviewing all the options he had seen so far.
As he sat there his mind came back around to his question about armor. He opened the store and found the search box, using it to search for armor he could afford. The results included denim and leather clothing, boots, and even some sports equipment. Frowning, he tapped on denim jeans to see what it would tell him.
Denim Jeans (common)
Armor: 2
Durability: 25/25
Upgradeable: 0/2
He tapped the denim jacket to check it next.
Denim Jacket (common)
Armor: 2
Durability: 25/25
Upgradable: 0/2
He then checked the leather jacket to see how it compared to the Denim.
Leather Jacket (common)
Armor: 5
Durability: 50/50
Upgradable: 0/2
He checked the boots as well just to see.
Hiking Boots (common)
Armor: 2
Durability: 25/25
Upgradable: 0/2
Combat Boots (common)
Armor: 5
Durability: 50/50
Upgradable: 0/2
“Okay, so armor does exist, but what does it do?”
“It adds to the amount of damage you can take to that area of your body,” Scott answered quickly, as if he had been waiting for the question.
“Wait, explain it better.”
“Look at your character screen again,” Scott told him, snickering just a little.
When Alvin focused on the image of himself, it zoomed in and had more information. Each portion of his body included a number in a small box. Currently, almost everything but his legs were at 3. The listing for his legs showed 3 (5). “So, the jeans are giving me two armor, to my legs?”
“That is correct,” Scott replied with a burr of humor.
“But they can’t be upgraded because they’re trash, unlike the common ones I can buy?”
“Yup,” Scott chuckled.
“Why is my back at a two?”
“You hurt it carrying someone not that long ago. It will heal on its own, it’s just slow. Heals about one point every three days or so.”
“Huh. What about head gear?”
Without waiting for Scott’s answer, he searched for head gear. He found everything from hats with no armor and helmets with armor. Those ranged from simple bicycle helmets that only added one extra Armor up to army issue combat helmets that added ten to Armor. “Okay, now we get to something that seems way more game like. Still stupidly expensive, but game like. I’m betting I can find some of this stuff out in the World, too.”
Scott was strangely silent on the matter, so Alvin continued his ramble. “As it costs so much to upgrade the items or to flat buy them I’m going to pass on armor and weapons for the time being, I think.”
“You might regret that. A smart player would spend all they could,” Scott told him. Alvin opened the store, upgrading his fanny pack and buying a bowl of sustenance. “You’re going back out again? Already?” Scott asked, sounding nervous as Alvin shoveled the tasteless sludge into his mouth.
“Sure am. I’ll be getting for the backpack next,” Alvin replied. He used the bathroom, then opened the job board. “Okay. Let’s see what the game wants to throw me next.”
Chapter Nine
When the light cleared, Alvin found himself in the back of a store. Shelves of boxes and products were smashed open all around him. Most of the boxes carried the name and logo for Val-Mart. Face palming slightly, Alvin shook his head, “Really, guys?”
Story Mission: The Zombies of Val-Mart.
The store is under siege from the undead. Get the People of Val-Mart to safety.
(All zombies love to shop at Val-Mart. At least 1 person must make it to a functional vehicle.)
Picking his way through the debris, Alvin noted that the dock doors were wedged tightly shut, along with the two walk-in doors. Boxes and pallets were piled into impressive barricades at each point.
Carefully moving through the debris that was filled with broken bits of glass, he made it to the doors leading into the store proper. He glanced through the small window in one door before he gently nudged it open. The smell of rot washed over him, making him wrinkle his nose. A look to the right revealed defunct coolers full of rotting meat, as he was right next to the grocery area of the store.
He looked down the first few aisles. The entire right side of the store was devoted to groceries. To his left, the baby section gave way to clothes and other household goods. He could hear voices from further in the store, seemingly in argument. He wondered how to introduce himself, as he obviously hadn’t been here when the people had barricaded the store.
The parts of the store he could see had been pretty thoroughly trashed. He went towards home goods, where the voices seem to be coming from and away from the stench which was making him slightly nauseous.
Rounding an endcap, he found a group of ten people all standing around an eleventh person laying on the ground. Keeping his hands in plain sight as two of the people were armed with pump shotguns. He coughed gently, “Excuse me, folks.”
Both guns came up, while others with bats turned while raising them. A guy in biker leathers spoke up as the tableau held, “Who are you and how did you get in?”
“Call me Al. I came in from the back of the store. That isn’t the real point, though. What’s wrong with that guy?” Alvin motioned to the guy on the ground with his chin.
“He was bitten, so we’re waiting to see if he turns.” A painfully skinny blonde, who screamed meth addict to Alvin, replied to him, her voice reedy and thin.
“A bite doesn’t do it,” Alvin replied. “Dying does. Doesn’t matter the cause, once you die, you rise.”
“How do you know that?” A black teen with saggy jeans and backwards cap asked. “You know what this is all about, nigga?”
“No, but how many have you killed in the store and how many of them had been obvious bite victims? Better yet, how many had no marks of trauma at all?”
“Hold up,” the biker barked. “You saying the barricade in the back of the store is breached?” That caused a worried murmur to start up, “Shut it, the lot of you.” The crowd clammed up instantly, telling Alvin who was in charge here.
“No, it’s still intact, for now. I can try to explain, but it won’t make any more sense than dead people standing back up. Let’s give him some first aid, if he was bit by a dead body he might still get an infection and die. If he dies he comes back, so let’s try to
stop that from happening.”
“Please,” a girl about eight years of age cried, “I just want daddy to be okay.”
The biker glared at Alvin, then glanced at the little girl before motioning to a Hispanic guy. “Ramone, bandage him up. Try to kill any infection first. The rest of you go back to your stations. You mister, you come with me,” the biker said, his eyes focusing on Alvin.
Alvin watched as most of the people split into groups of two as they wandered off while Ramone knelt down to begin doctoring the bitten man. He followed after the biker as the man brushed past him.
They stopped next to the sporting goods section, which was the most ransacked section Alvin had seen. The biker leaned back against what used to be the knife display counter. “Tell me what you meant about not understanding.”
Alvin raised a brow, “Okay. But if you think I’m crazy, it isn’t my fault.” Alvin began to relay his story, being interrupted by questions from time to time. Alvin didn’t include the part about upgrading his gun, though.
“If your story is true, you have a bat in that fanny pack. Pull it out,” the biker finally said when Alvin stopped.
Alvin pulled the worn bat from his pack, earning a soft whistle from the biker. Alvin put it away while biker seemed to be lost in thought for the moment. “This is all a game to some sick fucks. All of our misery and suffering here is for them to get their rocks off. That kind of pisses me off.”
“I don’t blame you. I also have no idea what happens to you all if I die. This whole world might cease to exist or it might continue until the zombies win.”
“Fuck a duck,” the biker sighed. “I’m Randy. I had to organize this collection of people. There are easily a few hundred zombies milling around outside the building. If what you say is right, we just need to get to a car that will run and leave for you to win. However, I would like more. I want to get them all out with the canned food we have.”
“I don’t fault your wants. Is there roof access from inside?”
Randy gave him a false smile, “Yes there is. You going to go shoot them? You’ll run out of ammo and they’ll just keep coming.”
“I didn’t tell you everything, Randy. Why don’t you come up on the roof with me? You can see about spotting some older vehicles we can use to get you all gone. In the meantime, you can have them get the supplies ready to move.”
Randy grunted, eyeing him, “You are not going to listen to me, are you?”
“Not likely, unless it gets me out of here faster,” Alvin replied. “You want out, and I want you to get out. It will be a winning situation for all of us. Tell me where the roof access is and I’ll head up there.”
Alvin followed the directions he was given. He paused as he came around the corner to find the meth addict blowing the teen in the back of the customer service area. “That gives a new twist to service with a smile in this store,” Alvin commented as he moved on past them.
The kid’s eyes snapped open in surprise. “What are you doing…” The meth addict didn’t stop what she was doing though, making his statement fizzle as he wasn’t long from the finish line.
“Going to the roof for a party. Not as fun as yours but infinitely safer. Make sure to give her whatever she agreed to as payment or she might cut you,” Alvin commented as he grabbed the ladder and started climbing to the roof.
The kid watched him with a shocked expression, trying to get his brain to work without blood. Alvin glanced down to see the small baggie of small crystals that fell from the kid’s hand as he tipped over the edge of his orgasm. Nodding, Alvin now knew why the addict had agreed to blow the teen.
Once on the roof, Alvin sighed, “Well, one of them is a waste and the other is just an addict. Oh well, more XP for me if I save them all.” He walked to the edge of the roof and looked down into the massive parking lot.
He could make out buildings stretching well off to the left. The store anchored one side of a shopping center, the parking lot for the entire place held a few hundred vehicles. It also contained more than a few hundred zombies, including some zombie children. He spotted a few dead animals lying amongst the cars.
“Animals aren’t reviving,” Alvin muttered as he took in the scene. He pulled his gun and chambered a round while he waited for Randy. He could see a number of older vehicles, but the one that really caught his eye was an old bus. It was painted up in garish tie dye colors, and looked like it dated from the seventies. “That looks like a good candidate.”
“The bus?” Randy’s voice came from behind Alvin.
“Yeah. It should hold you all easily and can probably hold the stuff you want to take. I’d also suggest that jeep over there. It looks like it has a winch on the bumper, which might be useful if the bus gets into trouble.”
“They’re separated by a lot of ground and zombies,” Randy commented. He eyed the pistol, “You don’t think you can clear enough of them with that, do you?”
Alvin turned slightly with a broad grin, “Let’s go over that way a bit. There are no doors under the point of fire then. Maybe that will help delay them.”
Alvin moved to the spot he’d picked, taking up a position with his body braced against the ledge. He held the position for a few seconds, then pulled back. Randy followed him over. “Hmm, this is going to take a bit. Think you can get the drug dealer to bring a few pillows up?”
Frowning, Randy cocked his head to one side, “Drug dealer?”
“The teen was getting a blowjob from the addict for a small baggie of meth when I came up.”
“Really,” Randy growled, his eyes darkening, “I’ll be right back.”
Alvin watched the upset biker go back into the building, then turned his attention back to the parking lot with a shrug. He was sure after a few minutes that the zombies were just mindlessly wandering at the moment. The first few shots would change that, though. He wished for a second that he had a rifle.
Glancing at his pistol, he frowned. His accuracy would suck until the zombies got close to the building. He wiped at his forehead, wondering what was taking Randy so long when he heard someone coming up the ladder.
The teen from before, sporting a swollen lip and a sour expression came up the ladder carrying a pillow. Alvin waited as the teen came closer. As the distance closed the teen met his eyes with hatred. “Here’s your pillow, asshole.”
“Thanks, dealer. Did your leader object to your extracurricular activities?”
“Fuck off. I hope you fall off and get eaten,” the kid brushed his hair back out his eyes then spat at Alvin’s feet before climbing back down the ladder.
“Yup, don’t care if I save him,” Alvin muttered, arranging the pillow as a cushion to brace his chest and arms on the lip of the roof. “Okay, let’s see what I can do.”
Taking aim at the closest zombie a good fifty yards away, Alvin took a steadying breath. “Hold up,” Randy called out, causing Alvin to lock up for a second. “I brought you some ear protection.”
“You just took a few years off my life,” Alvin replied with a deep sigh, taking the ear protectors and slipping them on. “Okay, starting up now.”
“I’ll just wait here, shall I?” Randy half-smirked, looking at the pistol.
Alvin ignored the comment and focused on the closest zombie again. He waited for the zombie to bump into the side of a car, which stopped it momentarily. He gently squeezed the trigger. The gun discharged, the recoil kicking the gun up and off line.
The shot hit the zombie in the chest, blowing a hole through its chest and splattering blood and gore all over the vehicle behind it. “Fuck,” Alvin muttered as the twenty closest zombies turned towards the store and started shambling towards them.
Aiming at the approaching zombie, Alvin fired again, this time blowing the left side of its head off. Alvin gave a small nod as he shifted aim to the next closest zombie and fired twice before he put it down. It took three for the third zombie, so Alvin dropped the empty clip into his empty hand.
“That is not
good marksmanship,” Randy said, loudly enough to carry over the ear protection. “Means you can only get nine with the ammo you have.” Alvin grunted as he slapped the empty mag back into the gun. “That clip is empty,” Randy told him.
Alvin took aim and fired, cleanly killing the zombie he was aiming at. He began to methodically fire shot after shot, taking up to three shots in some cases to kill the zombies as they came forward. As he dropped the clip for the second time Randy found his voice.
“What the fuck? How is that even possible?” Randy shouted.
“Magic,” Alvin replied as he put the empty clip back into the gun and fired again. “Bullshit game logic, whatever you want to call it.” He killed off the first twenty zombies then took a break, his wrists a little sore. “Break time.”