It would have seemed silly to me a week ago, but it didn’t now. I wanted to be remembered for my benevolence, especially since he’d died smashing through troops that would have cut me down in a heartbeat.
[Beverly Hills] has become a friendly zone. As the commander who liberated it, you have been given higher access. Your [Schemer] archetype means that this access comes in the form of a tactical advantage.
Before I could work out what that meant, I felt as if my attention was being dragged somewhere else. When I stopped fighting the diversion, I was rewarded with a strange out of body experience as my vision swept up through the top of my skull.
And then I was staring down at myself. It was as if I was seeing the battlefield from our perspective of a bird or satellite, and my allies were both flesh and blood and little red blips on the map at the same time.
This new Point of View was exactly the sort of thing that would have helped me direct the battle I’d just taken part in but, as useful as it was, I didn’t foresee needing it. I had to get to Silicon Valley, and with dawn on the way right now that meant that every instant in the game I needed to be heading in that direction.
Another battle would slow me down way too much to get there. Still, I was thankful for anything the game gave me. It was probably a top down view like this that had dominated Briggs’ attention. Maybe when I’d revealed myself on the hill just before I’d lunged at him I'd appeared on his map. It made sense, and it meant that the Trampler’s timely arrival had been even more important. He must have arrived after the map updated, sliding in under the radar and ruining the plans Briggs had so carefully laid out.
I scanned the battlefield from my new perspective. Even though I was certain that any pockets of resistance would be swiftly dealt with, I was surprised to see the occasional green blips pop up on the map. It didn’t take long for the red dots to overwhelm them…
I doubted I could spot a stealthed adversary on the map, but I did think that whatever my army saw would be updated live. If someone wanted to remain hidden, they were going to have to find a way to conceal themselves from every pair of eyes under my command.
Good luck with that…
Now that I was starting to think of myself as a battlefield commander, in charge of soldiers willing to place themselves under my leadership, it was time to start looking to the future. I needed to get to the Computer Science Museum in Silicon Valley. I still didn't know exactly what time it was, but the mountains to the east of us were already glowing as if they were on fire. Sunrise wasn't far away, and here in California it happened all at once. One moment the sky would be pink and orange and then the next would find wide beams of sunlight streaming down from the top of the Rockies.
I didn't for an instant think that we were going to be able to beat the game, whatever that meant. I didn't even know how much of the game there was to beat, to be honest. For all I knew, every other state in the union was still held by Survivors. Even California might be, since this battle had only been for Beverly Hills.
Wait a minute. I was being stupid. Headshot had given me an advantage just now and I'd only been smart enough to use it to see my immediate area…
I concentrated on the map once again and focused my will on pulling back my vision back, trying to go higher and higher. It worked, and I watched as Beverly Hills shrunk below me. Los Angeles did too, and after a couple of seconds I was looking down at a topographic map of the western coast of the United States, complete with pulsing red circles that I assumed correlated to the size of the Zombie population in that area.
Once my own army was about the size of a dime, I let my vision hang there. Los Angeles had a red dot about the circumference of a nickel, and so did San Diego. Down near the Mexican border, there were a couple of dimes on either side of the Rio Grande, but what really drew my attention was Northern California. There were two huge, pulsing red dots as big around as quarters up there. There were slowly heading toward each other, destined to merge in the next couple of hours.
That was where I wanted to go, where I wanted to take this army, or at least as many of them as would follow me. I pushed the view back down to as close to ground level as I could and saw that the green blips were gone. The Survivors in Beverly Hills were gone, and my numbers had swelled.
Now all I had to do was work out how to give the order to move out…
Player Riode11 has accepted your invitation to rejoin Headshot and their [Trampler] is now fully healed and back under their control.
Good! He’d bailed me out and I was glad I could do the same for him. Besides, I couldn’t think of a better bodyguard than that hunk of muscle and flesh. I absolutely wanted him between me and whatever perils I was going to be facing as I tried to storm through to the Silicon Valley. I’d have to pass near the other Zombie armies already there and, even though I knew they’d be friendly, that many players in one place surely meant they were looking for a fight, especially at this late stage of the game.
I looked down into the pool and saw that the Trampler was whole again. He stood up, the surface of the water barely reaching his waist. He looked down at me and grinned, a joyous, crazed and awful smile that I returned wholeheartedly. I gave him a thumbs up, and he gave me one back.
It was good to have friends in this game, if only for a little while. At least I knew his player name, now. I supposed later there’d be a way to get in touch with him on the forums. I still felt bad about having used his corpse as a shield and a food source, but I’d only done what I had to do to survive.
For an instant, the futility of it all flashed across my mind again, but the impervious, ever-present weight of the indestructible backpack and the precious cargo within reminded me that I had a solid goal ahead of me. And not just a goal. A reason. A purpose. It wasn't as if I'd be rich if Sasha did make good on her plans to pay me, but I couldn't lie about the fact that it would absolutely make my life a hell of a lot easier. It would mean that I could see a movie every now and then, or eat something other than pizza on Friday night. I could stop grasping for every single hour of overtime they offered at my job and maybe read a book.
Or maybe I’d invest it. The only thing I was sure about was that I wouldn’t be giving any of it back to Deep Dive studios. Maybe I was done with the game after this week and maybe not, but there was no way I was going over to the Survivor’s side.
Riode fell into step on my right-hand side as I walked away from the pool. Behind me, I heard the troops that weren’t part of my honor guard tear the mansion apart, beam by beam.
As this sign of the Survivor oppression came tumbling down, we made our way back down the hill. I was surprised at how many zombies we had. And it wasn’t just the sheer number of them that impressed me... There were so many different types as well. Even after I saw the Flicker, the Speed Demon and the Trampler I’d convinced that I’d seen everything the game had to offer.
But I was dead wrong. There were Zombies with extra limbs that had clearly been somehow grafted on to their twisted bodies. As I strode past them I could see how mismatched they were, though all of their limbs seem to work. A few of them had modified themselves to become climbers, or to crawl on six or eight limbs instead of walk.
There were still the now-familiar Tanks and Runners, but the only Zombies I saw that looked like me didn’t strike me as schemers. They were something else. All of them had long lines of AI minions behind them, and I could see right away that they could control them far better than I ever had. In fact, right before my eyes one Puppet Master transferred some of his more damaged minions to another one. The new owner made the AI clasp all of their hands together, some walking backwards to accomplish the move.
Then, he climbed up and made them carry him in his new vehicle made of dead Players…
A few of the other Zombies liked that. They waved or cheered at the Puppet Master in his odd chariot, and occasionally another Zombie would even come over and donate a minion to them so that his chariot g
rew ever larger. I shook my head, smiling at his ingenuity. He sure knew how to travel in style, all given that.
Travel. That was what I needed to set my attention to. It was dawn now, and I blinked in the bright sunlight and headed North before taking another moment to mentally look at the map and zoom out. Those two quarter size circles in Northern California had merged in the time it had taken us to get down the hill, and now they were as big as a silver dollar. They'd been gently pulsing before, but that was different too. They were flashing white now, and the only pulse I could see was the diameter of the circle as it shrunk and grew as the army no doubt took losses and absorbed the Survivors they Infected.
They'd found more than a battle, that was for sure. They'd found a war, and as I pushed my troops on to greater and greater speeds, I wanted nothing more than to join them.
Would you like to initiate a Horde? There are sufficient numbers now for the Tireless March effect to begin. You can travel at twice the speed of those in the Horde, and as the Vanguard you will decide their destination.
That was exactly what I’d been hoping for, and I selected Yes. I needed that speed boost, and once it kicked in and I discovered I could think about a place on the map and we’d be on a sort of autopilot, I could relax.
A little…
It wasn't as if Deep Dive studios had everything together, but it was absolute basic game design that as a population dwindled they’d want to keep the remaining population in contact with each other, especially in a game that revolved around combat.
As my Horde grew, so did the variety of zombies around me. Those extra limb ones were still here, and so were the other ones I was used to. I saw another Trampler off of the freeway, happily laying waste to something. He didn't join us, but that was okay. I only wanted people who were dedicated to the cause, and if he wanted to spend his last hours for the week shredding downtown LA, more power to him.
There were Zombies that seemed to breathe, panting out a foul-smelling, faintly green noxious gas that billowed out of their mouths and rolled down their bodies to pool at their feet. I could only imagine what breathing that in would do it to a Survivor, since I noticed that the heavy vapor would pool in the shallows of the cement and make it smoke and pit. They were clearly corrosive, and I didn't envy anyone trapped near enough to them to be forced to breathe the same air.
There were others, too. Some with narrow bodies and grotesquely swollen skulls. I had no idea what their powers were, but the way the veins bulged in their bulbous heads and they occasionally pointed off towards building, only to have a nearby Runner dash off and tear a Survivor from a hiding place.
Somehow, they were able to see things I couldn't. I didn’t know how, but I was glad they were around.
As the freeway become more congested with abandoned vehicles I had my Trampler take the lead. We were moving quickly thanks to the Horde buff, which let him clear a path even faster. We were making good time, but I became obsessed with that top-down strategic view that I got access to now. It was easy to lose myself in it, to stare down and watch our red line snake North toward the battle that still raged.
We had to hurry. We had to. I couldn't imagine what I’d would do if he got there and the Zombies were dead, the victorious Survivors standing over their bodies, waiting for us.
At this rate, I didn't even see how we could make it to Sasha before the servers closed, but as our Horde grew we were picking up speed. I was never that great at math, and it didn't help that I didn't know the exact parameters of how large we needed to be in order to go fast enough to make it.
I couldn't bother with those calculations. We’d either get there or he wouldn't. There was no other destination that interested me, and the backpack carried an item valuable enough for me to risk wasting the last few hours I had in Headshot this week.
I suppose it was fitting. Biblical, really, that Deep Dive studios had decided that Sunday would be a day of rest so they could defrag the servers or reset the game whatever it was they did that was so damn important that it was worth kicking everyone off.
At least we didn't grow tired. At this stage in the game all of us were high enough level that we could really push the pace as well, and so we rushed up the freeway as quickly as we could. I could sense the desperation in the other players. Even though I couldn't speak to them, I didn't have to. They trusted that I knew where I was going, and I didn’t exactly think now was the time to tell them that their only real purpose, at least to me, was to make my Horde travel faster so that I could deliver a package before the server kicked us all out.
Deliver a package to a Survivor.
A Hacker Survivor…
No, I didn’t think they needed to know that part.
Chapter 50
I pushed us hard, and the day wore on.
I’d been wondering for the last few hours when it would happen, and when Sasha’s voice filled my head at last, I wasn’t surprised. Only this time, she wasn't talking to me. There was some type of signal bleed, crossed wires or something like they used to get back in the old days. I probably should have felt guilty for listening in on her conversation, but I didn’t.
Besides, I wasn’t doing it on purpose and I didn’t know if I could stop it, even if I wanted to. It was all consuming, and even though she sometimes faded in and out a little bit, as if we had a weak signal, I heard every word as clearly as if she were standing right in front of me.
She was talking to someone else, but I only got her side of the conversation. Was I in her head, somehow?
"He did it. At least, I think it's him."
Pause.
"I can't be sure. But I know he was in Beverly Hills, and that whole part of the map just went red."
Pause.
"No, there's nobody left. Even if there was, I don't think they'd be in a condition to answer. I’m guessing it was a bloodbath."
Pause.
"I don't know why he didn't, he just didn't. Or maybe Biggs made the call. Whatever the reason, they never went War Zone, so stop asking me, okay? I'd have warped in there if I could and gotten it back, but it wasn't an option. You guys are just going to have to listen to me and put a little faith in him."
I frowned. I didn't like the sound of any of that. I could be wrong, but if I had to guess the Eternals were doubting my ability to return the brick, and Sasha had even been willing to jump into Beverly Hills if their commander had accepted my request to make it into a War Zone.
What would have happened then? Would she have taken her damn brick and then swiped a vehicle in an attempt to make a mad dash back to Silicon Valley? And would I have been expected to protect her while she did it, since she had to know that she'd be throwing herself into the lion’s den by coming to Beverly Hills in the first place, since it was swarming with Zombies.
I didn't know. I was starting to wonder if she was on anyone's side other than her own, and I told myself over and over as I headed North that I should learn from her example.
The battle up there was still raging, which was a good thing. Unfortunately for me, it looked like the Zombies that were leading the attack were moving toward the ocean. I’d been relying on them to run interference for me while I tried to make it to the Computer Museum, and if they weren’t there it may mean that I’d meet Survivors ready to repel us.
We needed to fucking hurry, and the closer I got and the later in the day it became the more clear it was that we weren’t going to make it in time. Before I knew it was noon, and the hours continued to speed by without remorse.
I didn’t let that stop me. Instead, I pressed on even harder. Most of the Zombies sensed that I had some higher goal and stuck with me, even though I was sure that a lot of them would have rather spent the last few hours of their game this week wreaking havoc. No doubt they could see in my eyes that there was a promised battle ahead, but on the map I saw that the war we were rushing towards was continuing to drift West. The size of the circle was still fluctuating, bu
t it was larger now. The Zombies were winning, at least as much of a win as you could get when you only had eight or nine hours left before the game reset and the Survivors showed up again on Monday with every advantage.
And you'll be back to nothing, Ryan. Just like always, my brain wanted to finish, but I choked that thought down. I was tired of feeling sorry for myself. Even if the only thing I got out of this was the money that Sasha had promised me, it was a lot more than I'd begun the week with. It had cost me some days at work though, and possibly whatever was left of my relationship with Lori, not to mention the damage it might be doing to my body right this very second…
But I hoped that those things would eventually heal.
Despite my determination, I had no way of going any faster than I was. I could feel the seconds ticking down with every step. The sun crossed the sky and begin to sink into the Pacific. By the time the light was as red as blood, I was just about ready to admit defeat.
It would be close, but we’d fail. I didn’t slow down though, despite becoming sick with the certainty that the game would shut down the moment I laid eyes on my destination.
I didn't know what to do. All I could feel was despair, and as I urged my Horde on I felt myself butting up against the limitations of the mechanics of the game. We couldn’t go any faster than e already were. We were hardwired at this speed, and impressive as it was it simply wasn't going to be enough.
My mind was racing. I studied the problem from every angle, and all of a sudden it hit me so hard that I stopped in my tracks. The Horde did too, since they were linked to me. At least there was none of the bumping and shoving that there could have been. Their movement might have been tied to me, but as soon as we stopped they were scratching their heads and looking around with interest, trying to work out why I’d brought us to a sudden halt.
Headshot: One in the Gut (Book 1 of a Zombie litRPG Trilogy) Page 28