“Killing is not the answer today,” Chu said. “The shark blocks our path—this is the problem to solve.”
Mitch knew she was right—the shark must have known exactly where the team wanted to go, and was now guarding the far end of the valley, the door’s white light barely visible under its belly.
“C’mon, Spit,” Punch yelled to Mitch. “You wanted to know what a second chance looks like? Looks a lot like this. What’s the plan?”
Mitch looked to his old team, each ready to fight. Each waiting on his word. He watched the shark as it treaded in mid-air with slow swings of its massive tail and flutters of its fins, blocking their only way out. The beast dove down, grabbing a fresh breath of sand and jetting the dust out into the air through its blowhole with a bellow, its eyes glowing red.
Armored on the outside, but a sweetheart on the inside.
“Chu’s right—we don’t need to kill this thing, we just need to get to the doorway,” Mitch said. “We’re going to need a distraction. Give me all the weapons you’ve got. I’ll head out to the flank and shoot everything. That should grab its attention, get it to swim right at me. The rest of you make a run for it.”
“No way,” Fuse said. “We stick together.”
“It’s the only way,” Mitch shot back. “Fuse—I need you to lay down a path of grenades between the shark and where I’ll be standing. This thing sucks in sand as energy, as its oxygen. If we can get it to suck in just one grenade, it should be enough to ground it, at least for a few seconds. Then I’ll run for the door.”
Mitch reached into his bag and brought out his one remaining code package, nodding to Punch to do the same. “If I get stranded, I can always get back. You’ve still got your extra package, that will get the team back to Skirmish. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Gimme that,” Dozer said, snapping the package out of Mitch’s hand and tossing it into her inventory. “You’re not going out there, idiot. I got this.” She began reloading rifles, bringing out a small personal arsenal.
“Doze,” Mitch said. “I can do this. I have the most time left on my clock, this has to be the plan. I owe you guys—way more than this will make up for. You’ve got to trust me.”
“Yeah, I trust you,” she said. “I trust that you’re missing something. You can’t put up enough firepower to distract this thing. Only I can. I’m not doing this for me, this one’s for the team. And by the way, you don’t owe me shit. You don’t owe any of us. You came back—that’s more than anyone else would have done. Now, quit falling on your sword and be a goddamned leader.” She loaded her rifle with a final slap of a magazine into place.
“Always been the first one in,” she said with a laugh. “Always wondered what it’s like to be the last one out.”
THIRTY-SIX
What is Plan B?
MITCH WRAPPED his fingers around the corner of the pillar, leaning past the edge and feeling the scrape and grit of coarse sandstone across his fingertips. Chu and Punch held silent behind him, angling for a good view of Fuse and Dozer as they crept across the other side of the hall.
The sand shark held firm at its post, guarding the glowing white doorway that hid the promise of leveling up, and more importantly, getting home. Mitch checked his mission timer—if they could get past this final beast in the next few minutes, they’d have a full two hours left to track down Red Code. Mitch knew he’d need all the time he could get to save the virtual world he’d learned to love. He’d depended on Skirmish since he could remember—for all the ups and downs, the good and bad that came with any kind of life, But now, for the first time, Skirmish needed him.
The sand shark blew out another echolocation blast, the thin white waves bouncing off pillars, searching through the darkness for something out of the ordinary, anything that moved. Anything that breathed. Mitch saw a small cloud of sand a few inches tall spout up past the final pillar on the far side of the hall. There, Fuse crept across the sand with arms full of explosive charges, tossing them with careful underhand strokes like water balloons, positioned in a line straight between the sand shark and Dozer. Each landed with a soft plop, enough to stick the landing, but not enough to alert the shark of what was waiting for him.
After the final charge had been laid, Fuse gave Dozer a fist bump and a pat on the shoulder, retreating along the edge of the wall, and back to the rest of the team. “She’s ready to go,” he said, finding a spot behind the group.
“You think she can pull this off?” Punch asked.
“I don’t see that as a problem,” Fuse said. “There’s a high probability she’s actually excited about it.”
Dozer signaled the team and sprang into action, switching over to full attack mode, sending the dark hall into a rainbow of yellow and orange as her guns went hot. A machine gun in her right hand and her signature shotgun in her left, all accompanied by a warlord’s scream rolling like a tidal wave from her throat. She leaned back, finding her balance against the recoil, keeping her aim fixed on the sand shark’s right side. The shark bellowed, swooping through the air, gaining speed and swimming right into her line of fire. Its tail swiped the sand with a massive push, leaving the white doorway open and unguarded.
“Stupid fish is taking the bait,” Punch said, creeping forward into the shark’s wake. “Dozer’s going to pull this off.”
“It still has to eat a grenade for this to work,” Mitch said.
Dozer sprinted as she kept her fire steady, repositioning both guns over her shoulders and shooting backwards, still screaming her war cry. The sand shark picked up steam, bucking up and down with each flap of its tail, but staying well above the sand and the line of grenades hiding below.
“It’s not diving,” Fuse whispered. “Why isn’t it diving?”
“Why ... isn’t ... it ... diving?!” Dozer yelled between breaths, still shooting backwards, dodging Fuse’s explosives with every other step. “Get to ... the door ... you assholes! I’ll loop ... back around! Meet ... you ... inside!”
“She’s right,” Punch said, walking over towards the door. “We’re not doing her any good here.”
“We’re not leaving her behind,” Mitch said. “This time, we’re staying together. Time for Plan B.”
“We have a Plan B?” Chu asked.
Mitch left the relative safety of his pillar and looked up to the ceiling—a thick, stone roof about three football fields in length. The ceiling was constructed from sandstone, with a handful of tiny skylights revealing glimpses of constellations twinkling high above.
“New plan, Doze!” Mitch yelled. “Run the shark into the pillars!” The shark turned an eye at the sound of Mitch’s shout, but continued its path back after Dozer.
“That’ll bring the whole roof down!” Dozer yelled.
“Exactly,” Mitch shouted back, his voice echoing down the hall. “It’s the only chance we’ve got.”
Dozer dodged left, jetting between pillars and sliding down into the center strip of the hall. The shark picked up speed, but the faster it swam, the more it began to lose control. It turned a sharp left to track after Dozer, drifting with momentum, sliding sideways and shattering through the middle two pillars in its path.
The structure shook at its foundation as giant chunks of sandstone fell, breaking across the shark’s spine. The roof strained against its own weight, releasing the tension with a spiderweb of cracks, sending entire sections of the ceiling falling into the chamber below. The creature’s moan echoed through the hall, shaking the sand under Mitch’s feet.
“Swing back to this side!” Mitch yelled. “More pillars!”
Dozer was already two steps ahead of him. She ran across the center strip and clear over to the other row of pillars, snaking her way in and out, still shooting both barrels back at the beast. The shark, now back at full speed with its mouth wide open, dive-bombed and crashed through the supports, ricocheting, spinning and broadsiding the side wall. It bellowed, its neon lights blinking wildly. The roof began to buckle, larger
pieces now cracking off the center ridge, falling all around them.
“Get back here, Doze!” Punch yelled. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”
Dozer threw her guns off to the sides and tore down the side strip, running right at Mitch. He could see the walls flexing, the pillars bowing behind her as the sand shark’s massive form—its mouth still opened wide—closed in behind, running through pillars every twenty feet with massive booms. The beast didn’t even wince at the impact from each stone support, leaning into them, knocking them over like bowling pins. The far end of the building began to crumble, falling one section at a time.
“That thing is too fast,” Punch yelled. “She’s not gonna to make it.”
Dozer was still a hundred feet away—the shark right on her heels—when Mitch saw the trail of light fly across his shoulder. He ducked, glancing back up to see an arrow, flying fast and true, spinning with something tied to the arrowhead. It spun into the glowing, orange mouth of the sand shark, finding its mark with a wet thunk at the back of its throat.
Mitch looked back at Chu—her bow still at eye level, a satisfied smile across her lips.
The shark gasped, clamping its mouth shut just in time for the explosion. The creature split in half with a boom of sound and fire. The fireball in its belly burned bright as a giant chunk of roof fell down, squashing the two halves, pushing the creature deep into the sand.
The shockwave sent Dozer flying head over heels straight at the Nefarious team, knocking Punch across the room, smack into the wall. She looked up, breathing heavy, her hair smoking and slightly singed, with a sheen in eyes.
“I’m assuming that was you?” Mitch asked, looking back at Chu.
“Correct,” Chu said.
“What happened to sneaking?”
Chu just shrugged.
Mitch ran over to survey the charred remains of the shark, a tiny loot indicator trying to make its way out of the rubble. “I didn’t even know that shooting a grenade tied to an arrow was an option.”
“I knew this,” Chu said.
“Why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?” Punch shouted, peeling himself off the ground.
“You did not ask,” Chu said, nodding to herself.
The team left the remains of the sand shark behind, checking for bruises and heading for the doorway. As Mitch stood before the portal, the darkness was replaced with only pure, bright light. It stung his eyes, but felt strangely comforting—like it was bathing him, washing him clean. An energy from a strange world, an energy he knew was virtual, but for some reason, felt very, very real.
As Mitch took a step over the threshold, the rush of white turned to black as the second level loaded. He felt a cool breeze on his skin, opening his eyes to see a crisp mountain top with a handful of paths carving cross-cross patterns down the mountain side. A set of tattered flags of red and blue and yellow blew freely in the breeze. The entire Nefarious team rematerialized around him as he looked up to see the most beautiful status message he’d ever laid eyes on.
YOU HAVE LEVELED UP
The team exchanged a few quick fist bumps as they caught their breath. Mitch walked to the edge of the mountain, looking down at what the second level of Star of the North had to offer. The paths led down to a remote mountain village, with a series of waterfalls and scattered ruins dotting the landscape.
“Mitch, this is for you,” Dozer said from behind him, extending her unused code package. “But first … Mac’s trying to get a channel through. You need to come and hear this.”
Mitch approached the team, he heard a popping sound fill the air, like hail hitting glass. A Karma chat window appeared at the middle of the group. The communication came in loud and clear, or at least clear enough that Mitch could see a new sense of fear in the old man’s eyes, something Mitch couldn’t remember seeing before.
“Nefarious,” Mac said. “You must hurry. I need you here, now. It’s Skirmish—things have gone terribly wrong. “
“Of course they have,” Mitch whispered.
THIRTY-SEVEN
This Team Right Here
“IT’S RED CODE,” Mac said, a flurry of activity visible behind him in the chat window. “He’s here. He’s in Skirmish.”
“The code package,” Fuse whispered. “He managed to get back in one piece.”
“Our scanners have picked up the strongest signal we’ve seen since the Red Battle,” Mac continued. “The patterns match the disruptions we saw before—I have no doubt it’s him. He must have found some sort of portal or gateway past our defenses. Did you see anything? Any way he could have made his way in?”
Fuse began to answer, but Punch cut him off at the pass. “No idea. Haven’t seen him in a while. Not our fault. Definitely not our fault.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Mac said. “He’s back, and he’s at a power level that we’ve never registered before. It’s off the charts, maxing out every skill level.”
“We’ll be there soon,” Mitch said, holding up a code package for Mac to see. “We’re in the clear here, ready to demat back to Skirmish. Got the whole team, and we’ll get back with an extra code package to spare. What have you found? Any idea what he wants back in Skirmish?”
“Unfortunately, I think so,” Mac sighed. “We’ve got a scanner lock on him, been tracking his location. What we know is that he’s jumping between missions, exploring, but only selecting the top levels. Users are reporting missing accounts in some of those sectors—too many to be a coincidence. Good accounts, some of the best. High-level saves, well-known teams. There are more disappearing every few minutes. It took us a while to figure it out, but his pattern suggests he’s—”
“User data,” Mitch said. “He wants information. He’s starting a collection.”
“That’s what we’re thinking,” Mac said. “He’s been absorbing the win wires—the game logs from every campaign level win—from top users’ histories. Taking it all, leaving their avatars drained, just as digital shells.”
“Why would he fight his way all the way back to Skirmish for game data?” Punch asked. “Is that really worth the trouble?”
“It’s completely reasonable,” Fuse said. “Red Code was created as a virtual world builder. He knows how to build landscapes, characters, plot, and game mechanics. But for all the worlds he’s built, he doesn’t know how players will respond to them.”
“With enough data,” Chu added, “Red Code can build artificial users—thousands, millions. Run them through new worlds, make his worlds better. Make his worlds come alive.”
“And drain Skirmish of its lifeblood in the process,” Dozer said.
“We believe that’s his plan,” Mac said. “We’ve been evacuating Skirmish players from the platform as fast as we can, but there’s never been a breach this big. We’ve never had to pull billions of users out of the game at once—it’s taking some time.”
“And he’s picking off the best ones that are stuck there,” Dozer said with a shake of her head. “What an asshole. Wait a minute ... we’ve run into this douchebag a few times now. Why hasn’t he tried to grab our data?”
“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Punch asked. “I, for one, am offended.”
“Must be the concentration of power,” Mac said. “Here in Skirmish, he’s as strong as he’s ever been. With power brings new abilities.”
“Red Code has leveled up,” Chu nodded.
“Yes, it appears that way,” Mac said. “That’s why we need you back. But—and this is crucial—as soon as you rematerialize in Skirmish, you need to quit your game sessions. We can’t have Red Code get to your win wires—you’d be a gold mine for him. As soon as you land, log out, and get back to Karma HQ. We’ll figure out our next steps from there.” An assistant emerged in the video chat picture, leaning in to whisper in Mac’s ear. Mac nodded and shooed the man away. “I have to continue evacuations. Activate the code package and get back to Karma—we need you here, now.” The window clicked closed, disappearing into thi
n air with a flash and spark of light.
“Let’s head out,” Fuse said. “You heard the man. Mitch—activate the code package.”
Mitch’s mind swirled—flashes of Red Code, Mac, millions of innocent Skirmish players, and the team standing all around him. Mac wanted them back in Karma HQ, but Mitch knew they’d be worthless there. He knew he belonged somewhere else.
He knew what he had to do.
“I can’t,” Mitch stammered. “I’m not going along with you, not to Karma HQ, anyway. I’ll take you back, but once we land in Skirmish, I’m staying in. I’m going to end this.”
The past few days had turned Mitch’s world upside down, but even with his brain spinning, he had no second thoughts about what had to come next. Mac wanted them out of Skirmish for one reason, and one reason only: to keep them safe from Red Code’s path of destruction. Mitch could already hear Mac’s explanation in his head; he didn’t have to hear it from his lips. “I’ve asked too much of this team already,” he’d say.
“I feel like we’re not learning from our mistakes,” Punch said, stroking his beard. “Going after Red Code when we can just … leave? Isn’t this exactly what we just did back in NeverRise?”
“No,” Mitch said. “The difference is that I’m going in alone. You head back to Karma HQ, just like Mac said. This is my fight.”
“Bullshit,” Chu said. She stepped to Mitch and pointed a finger in his chest. “The Nefarious Five is a team. Teams stick together.”
“Chu’s right,” Punch said. “Sometimes she talks like some weird back alley virtual reality fortune teller, but she’s absolutely right. The Nefarious Five sticks together. Through thick and thin, in sickness and in health. Except for that one time when Mitch left us for years and years, but we’re going to look the other way on that one. Doesn’t really fit the narrative.”
Side Quest Page 22