The First Player (AlterGame Book #1) LitRPG Series

by Andrew Novak

  "Jack! Jack the Tramp, wait!" the two behind him quickened their pace, catching up.

  The one lurking in the shadows also caught up with Jack. Well, here we go. When the shadow twitched, Jack jumped abruptly aside. The man, planning on landing on his shoulders, missed and crashed into the mud. Jack kicked him in the ribs, putting his whole weight behind the movement, increased by the heavy backpack. The poor fellow continued his flight, only now not from the top down, but across the ground. Then Jack spun to face the other two, throwing his arm up with the revolver in hand. They, already having gained some speed, stumbled as though they had bumped into an invisible barrier, then froze. One had a small hammer in his hand, the other was holding a large knife. Not enough. These guys didn't respect old Jack at all.

  "You got me mistaken for someone else, boys," he said quietly. "Who are you?"

  He retreated a few steps, to the one who jumped off the wall, and then kicked him again with his heavy boot. The jumper, who had been starting to rise, took it in the ribs, gasped and fell again into the dirt. That taught him – he didn't try again to attract attention to himself.

  "Cat got your tongues? Who are you?" repeated Jack. "When Smith and Wesson ask you, best to answer quick. These two have very little patience."

  "We had you confused with someone else," one said, his eyes never leaving the barrel of the gun.

  "We made a mistake," the second added. "Just a simple mistake, brother. Took you for someone else. We're going now, alright?"

  "You mistook me for a person without a revolver," Jack agreed. "But I see right through you. On the ground! Who sent you?"

  "Man, nobody. We came ourselves."

  Jack thought that if he shot one now, the other two would crack. But he hated to waste the ammo. It was unclear when he would be able to restock. He'd have to use threats, which took more time. By the end of the conversation, Jack knew that a gang boss who'd sent them – Jack's new acquaintances were his stooges – went by the name of Romeo. It didn't matter, because Jack was now looking around the ghetto, not just for Romeo's people, but at all who were able to hold a knife, hammer or a piece of iron. Because the alpha had upped the ante in his search for Jack: he was now promising two hundred panbuck, and such money could put the entire population of the Clusters on their feet.

  So even if he left Romeo a message in this alley in the form of his men's bodies, it wouldn't change anything.

  He had to not give a damn about the weight of the backpack and clear out quick.

  Only once outside of the ghetto, did Jack catch his breath and began his habit of slowly mulling over the situation. He decided that it was fortunate that he'd been seen with the heavy backpack. Now the best minds in the ghetto would definitely come to the conclusion that he was hiding in the Wasteland, and that was not a place where people would go, even for two hundred panbucks. There weren't that many Walkers. And they knew Jack well enough, so they likely wouldn't take the risk. Let everyone calm down a bit, and the couple hundred the alpha promised would be forgotten.

  Well, at least in Simon's House there were no surprises waiting. Lisa was where he'd left her, no stranger's tracks to be found. And the Great Mist Veil in Alterra also hadn't gone anywhere, as Lisa had said before leaving the game.

  Jack believed her, of course, but there was always hope for a miracle. Moreover, after jogging with the backpack, he needed a breather. So he switched on his console.

  ...And when he exited the cabin, the Dead Wind was still sitting in the fog. The goblins were still frozen on the on the deck, like little painted, green statues. On land, they would have found something to keep busy, but in the unfamiliar situation, there just weren't any pre-programmed actions for them. Jack listened to the waves lapping the sides of the boat and asked irritatedly:

  "'Dead Wind', what are we doing? How much longer do we have to hang around here?"

  I am ready to execute any order, master, the otherworldly voice of the ship replied.

  "Well, what about Gaerthon?"

  The Curse of the Great Misty Veil has blocked the path. It is not in my power to overcome the fog.

  Got it. The same line on repeat. The changes made to the script by the programmers of New Atrium had introduced algorithms that directed the Dead Wind into a mathematical stupor. A sort of division by zero.

  Jack sighed and went to explore the ship. The schooner was small. He already knew the deck and cabin. All that was left was to check the hold.

  Opening the hatch, he saw steps going into the dark belly of the vessel. It was unlikely that he would find anything interesting, but he still had to check it. The narrow space under the deck wasn't lit but, like all darkness in Alterra, it was still more or less possible to see. The hold was dead and sterile. There wasn't even any dust. When you found something ancient in Alterra, the programmers diligently depicted all signs of passed years. Rats, spiders, and bats inhabited abandoned ruins, so curtains of webs, rodent droppings, and so on would appear. But here, there was nothing.

  Jack went through the long dark hold, knocking his fist against the wood. Outside, waves slapped evenly and steadily.

  Then he scrambled up the mast. The goblins perked up a little – a new opportunity had opened up. Well, now they would be climbing the rigging and swinging on the lines. Maybe it would enliven the cold serenity and stillness on board the Wind?

  When they reached the top, he peered closer into the light gray shroud enveloping the vessel. Nothing. The Curse of the Great Misty Veil was extremely monotonous stuff. When Jack was about to descend to the deck, some movement appeared above. A dark shadow slid over the top of the mast, its edges moving slightly. It was, of course, Ruger on his gryphon. The shadow swam and melted into the colorless haze. The necromancer couldn't make out the ship in the fog.

  When Jack left the game, he already had a message waiting in the Shell from Egghead. Jack opened it with some apprehension. What if there was a long lecture on how to use the servers? That he sure as hell wouldn't understand? But Egghead didn't disappoint. Everything was short and mostly clear.

  What if the controls weren't like what the fat man's mysterious friend described? And if he couldn't find the right computer? Or if Vince had been wrong and the power supply didn't work? But it was anyone's guess. First he needed to get to ALCO. Only there would it be clear.

  "Well?" Lisa asked when Jack came back to reality and peeled off the virt-helm.

  "Everything in Alterra is the same as before," he answered.

  "What about Egghead? Did he tell you something interesting?"

  "He has an idea. Most likely, he spent a long time thinking how to best end my life. And came up with something that the rituals of Nightmare paled in comparison. I would even say, that you shouldn't go with me, but there's one problem."

  "That I'm an expert on sacrificial rituals?" Lisa guessed.

  "Goes without saying. Although, honestly, I meant that if I don't come back, you won't get back here by yourself. It's peaceful in the basement, but outside is the Blighted Wasteland. I really don't want you to go out without me. So we'll both have to go.

  "At the end of the day, we're a guild," she replied, thinking. "You're the Master, I'm your Deputy. We'll go together and deal with it. Yeah?"

  He nodded reservedly – hope for success was, frankly, weak.

  * * *

  The best time for a Walker to get under way was at noon. The heat was unbearable, the wind blew the dust across the Blighted Wasteland, which meant there was less chance of meeting with animals. Jack had sorted thoroughly through their provisions – what to leave in Simon's House, and what to bring with him. Lisa's foot still hurt but with a tight bandage she could walk. Overall, everything was ready, but Jack lingered. It was hard to make a decision because, when you applied yourself to the task, it was too late to turn back. He remembered Andrew Vigo, and this gave him resolve. That was all he need to do: decide and do.

  Finally he ordered Lisa:

  "Memorize the way. If anythin
g, come back here to the basement. Stay here for as long as the food lasts. I'm leaving a fair amount of provisions here. When they run out, go back to the ghetto. Find Shifty Peter. This is the best advice I can give. Tell him everything and..."

  "That's enough!" Lisa cut him off. "Nothing of the sort will happen. I'm not going anywhere without you. Better to tell me what you're thinking. And what's the problem?"

  "The goblins. We need to get to the server station of Alterra Conqueror, but some dangerous, goblin-like creatures have settled there. That's the problem."

  "You have a revolver."

  "Mm yeah. In fact, I have something better," Jack showed her the small device that he received from Egghead.

  It was a box with a plastic case twenty centimeters long. On one side was a lattice screen, like on speakers. On the other side were a couple of handles and a vernier dial. The numbers opposite the ticks of the round dial meant absolutely nothing to Lisa or Jack.

  "It's Egghead's idea. Alphas from New Atrium developed this device in case they needed to go out into the Wasteland. This think emits a subsonic sound. It... well, we can't hear the sounds, but it works quite well on hounds, for example. It causes many different, strong emotions – from horrified panic to frenzied aggression. But the problem is that the alphas tried not long ago to reach the server station and they had this device. But the goblins who captured the Alterra Conqueror building aren't like ordinary creatures. They... They seemed almost like people to me. No, not at all like us. Dumber, but we come across complete idiots among us. So, it's unclear how the subsonic sound will work on them."

  Actually, everything was even worse. Judging from the fate that befell the squad of technicians, instead of panic, it caused them to get aggressive.

  "But I also have my own idea, in addition to what Egghead suggested," Jack finished. "Okay, enough talk. Let's go."

  When they came to the surface, he walked around the ruins and made sure that there were no traces that might give away the presence of the basement. Then he estimated the direction and walked off across the gray plain. He set a moderate pace, so Lisa could keep up.

  "Are you memorizing the way?" Jack asked. "Could you complete this trip back in the opposite direction?"

  "Yep, all here's memorized. Everything is gray, there's dust everywhere. If I go by these signs, I can't go wrong."

  Judging by Egghead's map, they had already walked most of the way, and when they walked around the flat, gray rock face, it hit Jack. That familiar, unpleasant cold in his gut. The feeling didn't bode well.

  "Stop!" he shouted at Lisa and began to scan the area.

  He didn't see anything... no, there was definitely something! Gray, dusty drifts twisted and snaked around the players, moving the tufts of colorless grass. So what tipped him off? Suddenly he heard a hoarse, staccato yipping somewhere off away from the rocks and turned back toward it. Wild dogs, that's what it was. And they were approaching.

  "Keep close to me," Jack began to peel off the straps of the backpack that held Egghead's device. "It's starting."

  "What's starting?"

  He didn't have a chance to answer. With a hoarse whine, something jumped down on him from the tops of the cliffs.

  Jack twisted, slipped, and fell to his knees. Lisa screamed. The backpack bounced off to the side together with the large dog. Luckily, it hadn't managed to sink its canines into Jack's head.

  The beast immediately jumped on the man again and they rolled in the dust. They couldn't stay here, but who knew that the dogs could be so quick-witted! While Jack had been listening to the sounds of the pack, the alpha had climbed to the top of the cliffs and...

  He kicked the dog away with his feet, grabbed his fallen spear. The other dogs were running toward him. The alpha leaped again, but Jack met it with a strong jab to the face and almost put out its. The beast growled, backed away, and jumped again – and received a blow across its crown with such force that the spear cracked. The pack was already very close. It stretched in a wide wedge, and it was clear that Jack couldn't cope with all the animals. Suddenly, something changed. The alpha spinning in place, whimpering and howling, then it turned and rushed back. The wedge broke. Their whining rose and the dogs rushed after their leader. They had only just hurtled at Jack – and after second, had turned tail back.

  He turned, knowing beforehand what he would see. Lisa stood behind, spear clamped under her arm, Egghead's device in her hands. She was gazing at it in curiosity. Then lifted her head and explained:

  "I just turned it on... I thought it might be time to test it, yeah?"

  "Good idea," Jack could only say.

  The pack ran farther and soon dissolved into the gray landscape. He tapped his spear on the earth and, while he waited for his heart to slow down, added:

  "You did good. Now we keep going."

  At least, the test was successful. The device had worked. Fear chased off the dogs as it should. It was a shame, though, he couldn't ask the technicians from New Atrium what they thought about it. That's what Jack pondered all the rest of the way.

  When the fumes looming over the horizon came into sight, he moved even slower, changing direction several times and watching out for the round geyser holes as they went. Finally, he had come to what he was looking for – an area free of puddles and holes. All around them it was chock-full of breathing, bubbling mud holes. Jack had explained to Lisa beforehand: go slow and step carefully, so as not to disturb what lurked under the ground. Now he told her to stand in the middle of the chosen site, and he once again bypassed the smelly, gas-spewing holes. Having come to a decision, he picked up a stone and hurled it at one of the holes. The dirt, seemingly lifeless, began to move. The puddle seethed, swelling into a bubbling mass. Several shoots appeared. Not a plant, not an animal, Jack couldn't figure out what it was.

  Tentacles covered with viscous mud fell out from the puddles, shifting around. Unable to find anything worthy of attention, they slowly, as if not believing their bad luck, pulled back in.

  Lisa only gasped when this abomination, splashing sludge, shot from the depths. It left a strong first impression.

  "You will wait for me here," Jack instructed her. "Sit on the ground. If these things show up, then better to lie down. Make no sudden movements, no stomping, no noise. Just keep quiet. From here, I go alone."

  "Why? It'd be better if I were with you..."

  "Yes, it would be better, but right now, I'll probably have to run," Jack pulled off his backpack. "And you can't run with a bad foot. So wait here. I'll be back soon."

  She did not argue and Jack was grateful for it. Carefully avoiding the holes, he made his way through the haze toward the building. He looked back. Lisa was sitting in the chosen area, clasping her knees. Seeing that Jack had stopped, she waved. Jack sighed and continued on.

  The wreckage lying in the hollow at the airship crash site was just as Vince had left it: sprinkled with dust but otherwise the same.

  The hairy, two-legged creatures were nowhere to be seen, but Jack kept the revolver and Egghead's device ready, just in case. He walked past the gate, along the enclosure, and stopped, taking stock. How many individuals were in their pack? He'd soon find out. Jack turned on the device and stared at the wall.

  He didn't have to wait long. A burly goblin, as Jack christened these creatures, flew at the enclosure and growled, showing fangs. It moved very fast. The last time Jack had encountered one of the creatures, it had been worn out from tangling with dogs, but this one was fresh and peppy. A second, a little smaller, appeared next to it. The first, barking angrily, turn in direction of the new goblin and swung its paw. The smaller goblin fell without a sound. He began to roar on that side of the fence. Apparently, he was being scolded by his own leader. A few more voices joined the growling. Then came yipping, screeching and whining. It looked like the hairy goblin fell on some relatives. The fought, grappling in the landfill and engaged others.

  "And there's that increased aggression," Jack muttered and t
urned the dial, increasing the signal strength.

  In response, the yard on the other side of the fence was filled with a new explosion of hoarse cries. Males snarled, pups squealed, and female howled.

  Jack slowly backed away. This movement drew the attention of the leader sitting on the fence, who had been distracted by the events in the yard. The goblin jumped and, in one fell swoop, covered a third of distance separating them. Jack raised his revolver and, when the beast prepared for a new jump, he fired two bullets. One in the head and one in his hairy chest. The shots tossed the goblin back, into the ground, but three more had jumped the fence. Lightning fast, as if they had been catapulted. Jack didn't wait for them to sort things out, and just ran. Goblins howled when they saw the dead leader and rushed after him.

  The runners were so-so, moving in long jumps, but before each leap, they braced themselves, crouching, and lost time. But the length of their leaps was impressive. The Wasteland goblins roared no worse than the troll from the wild lands.

  Jack looked back on the run. The distance between them was rapidly and steadily decreasing. The procession of pursuers stretched all the way back to the fence, the last had just cleared it. Ahead of the rest, were the largest ones. The device had worked very well on them. The senseless, dumb aggression was thick. It filled their red, bulging eyes, and hoarse snarling ripped forth from their deformed, hairy snouts. Jack shot a goblin who had outrun the rest. It howled and rolled, but was able to stand on its paws and carry on, limping.

  Two, breaking ahead, were only a dozen yards behind. Another two or three long leaps... Jack jumped over a geyser with bubbling foam. Where the behemoth that could sense blows on the ground should have been dwelling. Losing his footing, he fell to his knees but immediately rolled to his side. A tentacle struck the ground. Spraying clumps of slime all over. The tentacle rolled in the dust.