Instead, I opened my eyes and saw only brown water and the murky depths of the Los Angeles River. Maybe Survivors could get diseased, although I supposed that even this disgusting water would take more than a week to kill them. Still, for a game this realistic I doubted that you'd want to be plunging into the frozen depths willy-nilly. Maybe I couldn't feel the cold, but I had no doubt that they could.
I looked up toward the water’s rippling surface and was immediately blinded. Why was it so damn bright? For second I was confused, squinting into the glare as I tried to work out what was happening. It had taken me almost 45 minutes to get home on the train, and now that I looked at the clock down in the HUD I could see that it was only 5:50 PM. The sun wouldn't set until 7:30, but the buildings around where I was should be blocking a lot of the light.
So, what the hell was happening?
I never thought I’d be grateful that I only had a few abilities at my disposal, but the at least it meant that it didn’t take me very long to figure out that the problem was my Low Light Vision. I didn't think I could turn it off, and if it was really going to amplify light in all situations it was going to be a pain in the ass.
Yet another reason to probably get back into the real world until it was dark…
But I didn't. I was too curious about how the game had progressed while I hadn’t been in it, and I was already jealous of all that I'd missed during the day when I had to go to work. So, I released my grip on the crack in the cement that I’d been locked on to all this time gently crawled to the surface as slowly as I could. I broke the edge of the water like a knife, and even though I was being careful I was surprised at how well my Zombie body was responding to my commands. I didn't make a sound, and aside from a few drops of water sloughing off my flesh and hitting the river’s surface, I was absolutely silent.
Now that I was exposed, I was getting nervous. I whipped my head around, trying to look in every direction at once. I didn't see the dreaded glint of a sniper’s scope from the top of any of the skyscrapers. There weren’t any yells or shouts of Survivors. I didn't see any movement at all, other than the sluggish flow of the river at my back.
Good. The fact that I didn't see any Zombies in the immediate vicinity either probably meant that my secret hiding place was still just that; a secret. I meant to keep it that way too, so I hurried away from the water as quickly as I could, climbing that wall I'd thrown myself over before. I’d fallen last time I’d done that, and that reminded me about my hit points. When I glanced down at them I saw that they were still at 7/10, the same as they’d been when I logged out.
Well, at least the game had been telling the truth about that. Headshot could explain it away easily by saying that Zombies can hibernate or whatever when they stop moving, but at least I wouldn't have to worry about constantly logging back in with an empty stomach and having the annoying Hunger mechanic force me to chase any and all prey I laid my greedy eyes on.
Even so, I should probably find some food. I didn't want to get my hit points lower again, and if I waited until I was in the red to hunt something, I'd be shooting myself in the foot.
I looked both ways up and down the street and when I saw nothing, I crossed it.
That was a mistake. A Survivor stood up from where he'd been crouching behind a parked car. I don't think he’d seen me come out of the river, but I’d probably been spotted as I climbed the wall. He'd seen me coming and hid, and now that the initial shock of his sudden appearance had washed over me I had the presence of mind to see if I could take him out before he did the same to me.
He gave me a little smirk. The cap he was wearing shaded his eyes from the sun, and I noticed without dwelling at it that my vision had gotten used to the glare of the sun. It wasn’t perfect, but at least it was no longer blinding me. The Survivor had what looked like a stubby little pistol pointed in my direction, his finger on the trigger.
Should I charge him? I still had that Lunge ability to play with, though I didn't really know what it did or how it worked yet. I cursed myself for not taking the time to at least check out the forums before I’d logged back in. Surely there would be Zombies who’d share some of the basics with each other, even if they were like me and too selfish to talk about tactics like hiding places.
But then again, maybe not.
The Survivor was no more than twenty feet away from me, and now that my vision could finally focus on him I could even see the little red bar above his head. Those would be his hit points. There weren’t any numbers though, so he could have 10 or 1000 for all I knew. He hadn't lost any, and judging by the snarl on his face and the way he was pointing the gun at me, it was my turn to be on the end of a bad situation.
On the edge of panic, it was all I could do not to just run for my life. Except, I couldn't really run… All I could do was this crappy shamble, which meant there was no way I could get away from him. If I fled, all I’d do was earn a clean shot to the back of my head instead of a hasty one if I rushed him.
So be it. I growled and darted at him as fast as the game would let me.
He was expecting that. Why wouldn't he be? Zombies were enemies that went right after their prey, and I hadn’t worried him at all by trying to close the distance.
What neither one of us he was prepared for was the howl that split the air, tearing down the street and setting my teeth on edge. It hit me like a wave, and made my muscles tremble with a viciousness that reminded me of all things predatory.
That howl hurt, but it was hungry, thirsty, needful sort of pain. It swelled the strength in my limbs and gave me a sense of power that I hadn't possessed a moment before.
My vision flashed, and I saw messages scrolling past along the right-hand edge of it.
YOU ARE UNDER THE EFFECTS OF HOWL
EXPERIENCE GAIN X 2
SPEED x 2
HIT POINTS X 2
ALL HITS ARE AUTOMATIC CRITICALS
I didn't know how long this buff was going to last and I sure as hell wasn't going to wait around to find out. The crack of his pistol cut through the air right after the Howl did, but because of my shiny new speed boost I wasn't where he'd shot at anymore.
At least, most of me wasn't… The bullet tore through my bicep, and I saw a blinking 6 at the bottom left of my vision. That would've take me down to one hit point if I hadn’t had my hit points doubled by the Howl. Thanks to whoever or whatever had buffed me, I was sitting at 8 hit points, which was plenty.
As I raced forward, he tried to aim at me again. Before he could pull the trigger a second time my Lunge kicked in, letting me leap forward with a burst of speed blinding speed that allowed me to cover the last ten yards unscathed. A moment later I saw how powerful my Grasp ability was as my hand locked on his wrist and I felt the bones beneath my fingers bend and then break.
The pistol clattered to the ground. The look of fear on his face was… Well, it was delightful. There’s no other way to put it. The terror he felt with me hanging on to him turned out to be everything I'd ever wanted in the world and more.
And, as I reached for him with my other hand, trying to grab his neck and drag his face towards me so that I could bite off a piece of it and let him watch me swallow it down, he went from terror to absolute catatonic, mind-numbing, abstract horror.
I was surprised that he still had the wherewithal to fight back, but he managed. Fueled by panic, he shoved me away with his good arm before I could bite him. I didn’t let go of his shattered arm, but I did stagger back. I might be strong, but the Survivor stats were still built to fight off one zombie. I was only level 2, after all. Judging by the slice of hit points I'd taken off when I’d broken his arm, this guy wasn't going to go down without a fight.
Once again, I was reminded of the fact that he'd paid a lot of money for his position in the game, and he wasn't about to give it up without turning this into a knockdown, drag out fight. It would be a long, boring, most likely embarrassing week before he could log in and
play as a Survivor in Headshot again, and even though I was still holding onto his wrist, his free hand dragged a big, serrated survival knife from his belt and jammed it into my side, right between the ribs.
Lucky for me, there was nothing vital in there anymore. He should have gone for my skull, since the knife wound had only done 3 more points of damage to me. That brought me down to five. It wasn’t great, but it sure could have been worse. I had used my abilities though, and when I tried to make another grab at him I discovered that latching on to him with my other hand was much harder than it had been the first time. There was obviously a cool down on the Grasp ability, and it wasn’t over yet.
My left hand was still holding on to him and I wasn't planning on letting go. If he killed me, then at the very least he’d be stuck dragging my dead ass around until he used that knife to cut himself free of my grip. Maybe I’d manage to slow him down enough that someone else would get him. Maybe I’d get some credit or experience for that, and maybe I wouldn't.
But I wasn't going to let him go. No way.
Both of us heard the movement and the footsteps at the same time. His eyes went wide and he tried to tug himself away, but my Grasp was way too strong. I may not have been that heavy, since I was mostly a skinny bag of bones and skin, but I planted my feet anyway and held my ground, doing my best to anchor him in place.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Zombies circle us. They were suddenly everywhere, closing in fast. More of them were coming around the corner, and still more from alleyways and nearby shadows.
I grinned at the guy I was holding, and I could plainly see that the fight in him was gone. He just wanted to run. What good was whatever experience points he would gain by killing me if he got torn to pieces because he waited around to do it?
That was when I saw the truth of it. The realization that hit home right then would change the way I played the game, but I didn’t know that then. The Survivors would be, for the most part, cowards. They'd shoot at us from afar, but when things went bad they’d turn tail and head for the hills. And why wouldn't they? What did they have to lose?
Everything. Everything they’d paid for.
But the Zombies, my happy horde, we were free. We didn't owe the game anything, and if we could band together like this and take one down, then we’d win simply because a Survivor lost.
The guy was freaking out now. He actually tried to turn around and run even though I was still hanging on to him, but by now I could feel that my Grasp ability was ready again. I reached up and knocked his baseball cap away from his head, weaving my fingers through his unwashed hair and grabbing the back of his skull in a grip that I was sure would be enough to turn bones to powder.
He'd have to tear his entire scalp off he wanted to get away.
The Zombies were almost close enough to grab him now. Some of them were faster than I was, even with the Howl buff still active.
I dragged the Survivor down to the ground by throwing my weight to one side, and then I simply held on for dear life as my allies closed around us and swarmed, biting and gnashing and clawing.
He begged.
He screamed.
He died.
That was when the feeding frenzy began in earnest. I still had a hold of him with both hands, so I hauled myself closer and took a huge bite out of the meat of his shoulder, swallowing it down in one messy gulp.
My hit points went up by 5. My experience went up by15, but there was more to it than that. It felt good, like something I’d been craving my whole damn life and had only just been allowed to gorge on.
And he tasted even better.
I took another greedy bite. I was aware of the experience and the healing, but all that mattered now was the meat, the gristle, the blood and the screams.
That was when I realized that there was only so much of him to go around. It didn't matter who killed them. It didn't matter who’d done the work and who hadn't, and the Zombies clawed and flailed at each other as each of them tried to get as much of the Survivor down their gullet as possible.
Maybe we could kill each other. Maybe I'd lose hit points if I didn't keep eating, since this press of undead humanity was closing in all around me and surely about to do damage.
The only way I could ensure my survival was by gobbling down as much of this stricken, gutted Survivor as I could.
And I did exactly that. I ate until my teeth glanced off of bone.
We all did, and when that was all that was left of him we fought over the bones so that we could crack them open and drink the marrow.
And when he was gone, we smiled at each other and licked our lips, ready for more.
Chapter 12
We’d been like sharks, only instead of circling with our dorsal fins breaking the water, we’d spent our frenzy pulling and tearing the Survivor apart up thing until he’d fallen apart in our hands.
Now that it was over, I had a fleeting feeling of fullness. That didn’t last for more than a couple of seconds, at which point I was struck by an odd sort of focus. Everything jumped into stark detail, and I felt my body change around me.
Congratulations! You have achieved level 3. Your hit points are now (15). You have learned the new skill "Infectious Bite". Would you like to activate this skill now?
All around me the other zombies seemed to be paused, too. There was drool running forgotten down their mouths and their eyes were lost in empty, blank stares. For a second I thought something had happened to Headshot, since just about all of the players near me seemed to be affected.
Was the game starting to go down? I tried to imagine hundreds of thousands of players suddenly dumped back into their bodies. It would be a PR nightmare if ever there was one. Lag would be bad enough, but a server failure would be talked about for weeks….
But after a second I worked out I was really happening. Just about everyone involved in this feast had leveled up at the same time I had. They were reading the game’s messages too, consulting their menu and probably try to work out whatever the new abilities they’d gained actually did.
That got me to thinking. I had no way of really know anything about the level of the other players. To my eye, we all looked about as identical as a pack of skinny, decaying, flesh-eating shamblers can. Headshot made it clear the first time you logged in that you’d be a Zombie versions of yourself, but that wasn’t saying much. Supposedly our eyes and hair would be the same color they always were, but once you get past all of the nonsense ways we got caught up in style, all the consumer brands we adorned ourselves in with, everybody looks the same when they’re just a bag of bones.
The rags that hung off from our slender frames were enough to show me that we weren’t just the same game model used over and over, but as I watched the horde of Zombies around me I realized that I really was just another member of a faceless mass.
If we were all standing in a line in front of a big mirror, I'd probably have to move, maybe even wave at myself in order to figure out which one I was. The team at Deep Dive studios said that was a good thing. It would be hard to grief anyone over and over, across multiple weeks if the Survivors didn't really know which one you were. You wouldn’t get any of those camping your house and waiting to knock you down and teabag you, at least in theory.
There'd been a whole bunch of speculation that eventual Downloadable Content they'd be offering would be primarily made up of ways to differentiate yourself from everybody else. Maybe a hat that was permanently stuck to your head would be thirty dollars, or an emblem tattooed on your chest would be fifty.
But so far, all of those guesses had been wrong. Each of us looked pretty much like the other, and even though it was weird to be robbed of my identity like that, in a way, I embraced it.
There were probably thirty Zombies here now, and as I picked myself up off of the ground and continued to look around, I noticed something else.
Some of the zombies were getting bigger…
It
was actually happening to one guy near me as I inspected him, and I took a few steps closer to watch. He fell down to all fours, his Zombie face making a hideous grimace as his eyes practically bulging from his skull as strips of renewed muscle and sinew crawled around beneath his ragged skin to attach to his bones, bulking him up considerably. We were all so skinny that I wondered how we had enough sinew and fiber to move, but this guy’s mass was doubling, tripling, probably quintupling right in front of my eyes.
In the space of ten or twelve seconds, he went from weighing about 120 pounds to something more like six or seven hundred. He was an almost instant monster, towering head and shoulders above the rest of us. His eyes swam with what looked like a river of clotted blood that ran from left to right, and when he looked at me all he could do was grin and flex one of his bulging biceps in my direction.
Holy crap. That was new.
He strutted past me, more than happy to bump me out of the way. I let him. After all, what was I supposed to do about it? I watched him go, and as I did I saw that of our crowd of thirty maybe two or three others had also changed in the same way. That made a total of four big, beefy Zombies if I counted the one I’d just watched metamorphize.
It must be a new sort of archetype they’d gained access to, some skill or ability they could pick that I hadn't yet unlocked.
I watched my other allies closely, trying to discern if they had gone through any changes that I didn't notice but if they had, it was too subtle for me to notice.
As I was scanning my compatriots, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. It wasn't movement. No, it was something else.
It was a distinct lack of movement…
On the top of one of the buildings I could see a figure staring down at us. He was absolutely motionless, and I had a feeling that the same statuesque presence that he was currently displaying was something I’d possessed when I'd frozen earlier when the first Survivor had gone by me in the alley.
Headshot: One in the Gut (Book 1 of a Zombie litRPG Trilogy) Page 5