What now? The last thing I want to do was follow that guy, but he'd come from the direction that obviously had Survivors as well.
I shrugged. There was no doubt that I was overthinking this. Whichever direction I went, there would be guns. And bats. And itchy trigger fingers and arms ready to swing.
There was no safety in Headshot
Chapter 6
HUNGER flashed across my vision, the word so big and bright that it actually made me recoil in surprise. At least it was getting smaller and more dim every time I blinked, which was a small mercy that I was more than happy to accept. Finally, the word lodged itself on the left-hand side of my vision, just above my experience bar.
And then a new menu popped up, translucent enough that I could still see the alley through it. I imagine that the developers of Headshot were doing everything they could not to obscure my vision. There was no way a Survivor who paid that much money wanted to get killed while they were reading about their brand-new shiny abilities, after all.
You are Hungry! Be careful. As a free play Zombie, your hit points will continually erode unless you eat. You should do everything you can to find food! It is only through the flesh of the living that the dead may continue to roam.
As soon as the menu went away, a new, red bar appeared above the one that displayed my experience. That must be my hit points. The bar had a number at the end of it, too. 2/5…
Just great. Of course the Zombies had hit points in the Beta, but this new Hunger component was a wrench in the works. Prior to this, you could ramble along as a Zombie for miles and miles, if you needed to, without ever having to stop and think about having to grab some food along the way.
Not any longer, it seemed. I guess that made sense too. On the free to play forums of Headshot there were always a few people who bragged about their killer strategies, which was usually just to turn log in and head for the emptiest spot in the country they could possibly find. They claimed that, even though they might level incredibly slowly since they were so far away from the vast majority of Survivors, at least they made it to the end of the week.
Letting cowards like that hide for much of the game had been a ridiculous game mechanic, and even though the new Hunger mechanic was currently affecting me I had to applaud the programmers for working out an easy way to solve the Beta BS.
Now, zombies had to stay near their food source unless they wanted to waste away to nothing.
Good.
I frowned. It was 4:15 in the morning. I'd been in the game for a lot longer than I’d thought I would be, but I couldn’t pull myself out. Not yet. The world I was inhabiting was addicting, and I could hardly leave now.
For a start, I had no idea if my hit points would continue to erode once I logged out…
But the guys who’d made the game wouldn't let me die while I was back in the real world, would they?
I frowned, imagining the disappointment of tens of thousands, more like hundreds of thousands or maybe even millions of people as they came back into the game on Tuesday only to see that they were already dead, their player bodies having wasted away because they left them for more than six hours or whatever.
That didn't make sense but all I could do was shake my head. Probably the Hunger would stop affecting me once I logged off.
At least I hoped so…
I supposed that I could cross that bridge when I came to it to it. Even though I’d already had to give up on whatever sleep I was going to have before I had to head to work in the morning, I wasn’t ready to log off just yet. I had another half hour in me at least, and maybe, if I pushed a little bit harder, I could make it to level 2 before I finally had to call it quits.
Something moved in the shadows ahead of me, and I froze again. I was impressed at how still I could be, when I had to. It was as if I was a statue, and the fact that I couldn't feel my pulse or hear my heart beating in my ears or even breathe made me feel…
Well, I suppose this was as close to immortal as any of us were going to get. I could imagine standing like this for days and days, watching the world go by, waiting for the perfect moment for a Survivor to lose their concentration and stumble within my grasp, only for my soon-to-be-hopefully sharp claws to tear out their throat as I ended their game and choked down their raw experience with a few gulps and swallows.
The movement came again, and I stared into the shadows as hard as I could, again glad that my Lowlight Vision sharpened the edges and kicked up the contrast of everything I saw. The Survivor obviously eyes like I did, because I’m sure that he would've recognized a body hiding in the shadows when he’d gone by. At least Zombies had a few advantages…
There it was. Twitching nose and glistening eyes. A rat poked its head out from a moldy stack of newspaper I couldn’t read and stared at me. I started to turn around, to go the other way as I exited the alley and then I stopped. Maybe…
I was probably too slow to catch it. I didn't really trust my reflexes yet, and if I chased it away I'd never find out if this worked. But I had an idea. Instead, of trying to catch it with speed I didn’t possess, maybe I could use the cunning that I did. I lay back down on the ground and extended my dead hand, keeping my fingers open and my palm up toward the night sky.
Sure enough, thanks to a friendly AI that ideally rewarded new ideas and a little bit of ingenuity, after thirty seconds or so I heard the rustle of the animal’s approach. A moment later I felt it pad across my palm. There was a tug, and even though I couldn't feel any pain I imagined that it was sinking its sharp little teeth into my thumb. Quick as a whip, I brought my fingers together and caught the rat in my iron grip, squeezing until I felt the bones crack and the thing go lifeless in my grasp.
Once I was sure it was dead I opened my hand again and looked at the little body. He actually looked surprised. I don't know how much of this game my own brain was supplying and how much was prompted by a nimble AI but it was doing a damn good job of being visceral and realistic.
I realized how little I’d pushed the system when I brought the body of the rat to my lips and gobbled it down in three wet, messy bites.
At least I'd been right about the taste. It was excellent. Not raw, since that word has no meaning to a Zombie. It tasted vital, and made me feel powerful as the energy that I'd taken into my body from the rat flowed through my limbs.
And sure enough, as I looked at the bottom left corner of my vision I saw my hit points climb back up to 4/5.
Congratulations! As a free playing Zombie you have discovered that eating meat is vital to your existence. A well-fed zombie is a zombie who will go far in this world. You exist to eat, and eat you shall!
Your experience points have risen by (2)!
I smiled, wiping away whatever gore I'd missed with my thumb and then licking it clean. I hadn't expected to get experience for the rat. I looked around to see if there were more, but there weren’t.
That would be too easy. Still, my experience points were (96) now. Almost to level 2 at least. I didn't know what the new level held for me. A new ability? Boosted stats at the very least, though I couldn’t expect to be kicking ass and taking names after walking for a few hours, dodging a fight, hiding from a Survivor and then eating a mostly defenseless rodent.
Deep Dive studios had change so much of Headshot with this new launch patch that it was as if I was playing the game for the very first time, aside from the basic mechanics. But I was pleased that I'd found a way to eat, though I didn't know when the next chance I would have to take advantage of it was.
Not that now was the time to go hunting for scraps. The Survivors would be spreading out from their massacre, and they'd be hungry for blood.
I made my way as carefully as I could to the end of the alley, looked both directions, and then slunk through the shadows and down an abandoned road, intent on heading further into Los Angeles and skirting the edge of the slaughter at the same time.
Chapter 7
Even thou
gh I'd told myself I'd only be on for another half an hour or so, that didn't turn out to be true. I was so eager to level and see what would happen next that I pushed on, too often watching the trickle of experience points I was getting simply for surviving in the game up till now.
(97).
And then, maybe half an hour later (98).
It was morning, both in the game and in the real world that I really should be returning to. In theory, I had to be on the train at 6:30. It took me half an hour to get to the station, which meant that even if I wasn't going to try and squeeze a few minutes of shut eye in, I didn't have that long before I had to go. If I was going to level before I logged out, I’d have to find something else to eat.
Besides, my hit points were already pushing me in that direction. I was down to 3/5, and I didn't like that, not one little bit. The hungrier I got the more desperate I was becoming, and I could already hardly stop myself from scanning the shadows with my Lowlight Vision, looking for another tasty rat or, dare I hope, a cat or something even larger.
I’d jinxed it, though. I was still looking at my hit points when it dropped to 2/5 again.
You are Hungry! Be careful. As a free play Zombie, your hit points will continually erode unless you eat. You should do everything you can to find food! It is only through the flesh of the living that the dead may continue to roam.
So far, I wasn't having any luck in my search. I didn't run across any other Survivors, though the sporadic and scattered gunfire in every direction told me that there were plenty around.
I couldn’t help but wonder how the remaining Zombies were doing and if any of them had leveled? I was sure at least a few had. While 90% of the ones back in that horde would've been butchered, I didn't think it was possible that all of the Survivors had made it out alive.
And that made me think about the real task at hand, like what kind of experience goldmine I’d get if I took one of them down? I couldn't even begin to imagine. It would be worth it, worth the risk and the worry that maybe you would never have a chance in this week's game, if you expose yourself to that much danger simply to take a bite out of one of those rich, greedy entitled bastards that had paid so much money to lord their status over us in this virtual world, just like they did in the one we’d left behind.
If I had the money, would I spend it?
I sighed. At least I tried to, but for a being that doesn’t breathe the act of dragging in useless air and then forcing it out seemed superfluous. It was hardly worth even asking myself if I wanted to one day play as a Survivor. There was no chance I was ever going to have that type of disposable income. And even if I did, there were so many things I need to buy before I threw that type of money away on a game. A car, for start. And then I could upgrade to a better house in a safer neighborhood, or maybe go back to school in the hopes of finding a higher paying job.
No, dropping that sort of cash on the pay-to-play upper tier of Headshot was a pipe dream and nothing more.
But I told myself that it didn't matter what they’d paid to play on the other side. If anything, it only fueled my hatred. It made me want to bite and gnash and chew. I imagined the look on that player's face when a lowly, free playing Zombie dragged them to the ground and ripped them apart. I could already see the rage-quitting tantrum on the other end of that virtual connection, and that made my mouth water even more.
I was hungry for that type of conquest. Just because those guys had money didn't make them better than me, and I swore to myself then and there that if I ever got the chance to prove it to them, I would.
After all, the only thing I was wasting in here was my time. If I could end their game early, I'd be pissing away their money, not mine…
(99).
I appreciated that the experience crawl continued, but if I had to rely on that as my only way to level, I doubted I would get much past level 4 or 5 before the end of the week. That wasn't the way to win.
Hell, it wasn't even the way to survive.
I wondered what sort of experience we were worth to the Survivors. I had no doubt in my mind that killing a higher-level Zombie was worth a bigger experience bonus than a low one, but how many level 1 Zombies did it take to level a newbie Survivor to level 2? Five? Ten? Twenty?
And meanwhile, all I could do was slink through the shadows and hope that I found something worth eating, and even as that thought passed my mind I saw a flicker of red in the lower left is my hit points dropped to 1/5.
Warning! You are now Very Hungry! Your situation is getting dire and instincts are taking over. Your speed will increase by (2) when in the presence of suitable prey, but you will find it extremely difficult not to pursue it. Beware, for at this level of hunger your actions and intent are not always your own. Eat and return yourself to a state of health!
I rolled my eyes. That was new too. I didn't know exactly what it meant, but I had a fairly good idea. If I didn't eat soon I was liable to dart out of cover if I saw something that looked even remotely edible, and the last thing a stealthy person like I was trying to be needed was for hunger to be controlling my actions.
I wondered how much the survivors knew about my abilities. If I had to be honest, probably not very much. Those rich guys and girls who play on the Survivor side generally tended not to know a whole bunch about peons like myself. And, judging by the hatred and trash talking in the forums, even before these abilities had been introduced there was no love lost. If all Zombies were given the same skill tree, and I wasn't sure if that was the case, then there probably wasn't going to be a lot of sharing of information between factions. We despised them, and they ached to bring us down.
So, I pushed on into the darkness, though now and then when I turned myself to face the East I couldn’t help but see that dawn was well and truly here. Even though the skyscrapers of Los Angeles dominated the skyline, the sun was already cresting the mountains that separated California from the rest of the country.
I was torn. I really, really needed to get to work. Maybe I should stop moving and just find a place to lie in wait. As quiet as I was trying to be, I suppose there was a chance that I was scattering the AI in front of me, driving whatever vermin would normally be my prey out and away. I had caught that rat by laying still, after all…
It might've been a good idea, but the game had other plans. Sure enough, at the end of the street where the road opened up, I saw it. Another rat, this one far bigger and far meaner looking. It saw me too, and despite the aggression I saw in its eyes the damn thing turned and raced along the gutter.
I chased it. I didn’t have a choice. All of a sudden my legs were moving, and the increased speed made me feel like I was sprinting. I couldn’t stop and I couldn’t slow down. That Hunger mechanic had kicked in, and I wasn’t much more than a passenger.
Without so much as a glance in that direction to see if the way was safe, I turned to the left and pursued it, managing to just catch sight of the rat's tail as it disappeared into a pile of garbage. I practically dove after it, and even though I felt the tug and bite of its teeth and claws, after a moment I had grabbed the rat around the neck and, with an almost absent shake of my wrist, snapped it.
The first one had taken me three bites, and even though this one was far bigger it only took me four.
I was famished.
I watched my health increase. My hit points quickly went back to 5/5, and I felt my mind being fully allowed to once more take complete control of my own actions.
Something else happened too, something I'd almost forgotten about in my hunger.
My experience bar flashed and the message appeared in my vision, overlaid against the brick wall in front of me.
Congratulations! You have achieved level 2. Your hit points are now (10). Your speed is now (4). You have learned the new skills "Grasp" and "Lunge". Would you like to activate these skills now?
I nodded, worried that if I said yes out loud like I had last time that a Survivor would overhear me
.
Grasp and Lunge sounded pretty good. I didn't know exactly what they would do, but it was probably going to be self-evident.
I was also completely drained. The sun would be fully up soon, and if I didn't log out I was going to be a useless at work. I consoled myself by trying to believe that now was a good time to log out. I wasn’t Hungry anymore and, as the sun came up and the day began, the Survivors were going to be out in force. Maybe the early, eager players had been out looking for an experience advantage to hunt low-level zombies, but a new and altogether more cunning version of player would be during the day, hunting through the city when every advantage was theirs.
I willed myself to leave the game and was surprised when, instead of my bedroom coming back to life in front of my eyes, a message appeared across them.
Warning! You are attempting to log out. In the release version of Headshot, Zombies who are logged out remain in the game. At your level, they are motionless. Your hit points will not erode, but you WILL be vulnerable to attack. You should hide before you log out! Find a place and pray that it is safe.
Shit.
Chapter 8
It wasn't exactly like I just stood there in the street and got pissed off, but I was furious. My hands were folded into fists and for a couple of seconds all I could see was red. How was this fair? And where was I supposed to hide? It was pure, unadulterated bullshit, just one more way that the Survivors were going to have the edge the entire game.
I tried to calm down. Partly I was just panicked because I’d spent the whole night in Headshot, which meant that I was going to be late for work if I didn’t log out now. I suppose I couldn’t fault the game for catering to the only players that forked out cash for the privilege of playing.
Headshot: One in the Gut (Book 1 of a Zombie litRPG Trilogy) Page 3