by Arthur Stone
It sounded simple, but few would be able to full off such a feat. Once Cheater was on the same floor as his enemies, he risked giving himself away, by sight or by sound. These were no noobs.
He could execute this jump as he had the last—but he didn’t. That wouldn’t be wise with a big machinegun in his hands, anyway. Beyond boosting his firepower, it also significantly shifted his center of gravity. He might just plummet to the pavement.
So he anchored the rope and tightened loops around his feet.
The plan reminded him of Nut and of his one and only interview for the group. Cheater was not about to go as far as the deranged sapper, but there were undeniable similarities.
He, too, planned to swing in and destroy those beneath him in the building.
Time for the final checks. Perhaps his calculations were off and he would drop too far, ending in a floor underneath the pursuit.
It was a risk. That would waste his opportunity, but alas, Cheater was no Superman. A group of players with above-average stats could create serious problems for him. No one on the Continent was omnipotent.
By design.
Cheater was beginning to partly understand the System.
That understanding came an instant before he released the concrete and sank into the void.
It was a short flight. Only about five feet, in fact. The window openings were tall enough that small errors in measurement were forgivable.
Cheater hovered upside down, holding out the machinegun and peering into the gloomy floor below. The two silhouettes highlighted by his final Flash of Omniscience were thirty paces away. He was in a non-standard position, though, and with an unfamiliar weapon. So he did not limit his shots to a couple of short volleys. He fired twenty rounds, riddling both of them.
Then he fired through the doors, hoping to catch other opponents with ricochets, but he did not do so for long. He released the machine gun and bent upward, grabbing the slightly protruding edge of the concrete slab. He hauled himself up. The cable itself gave him another point of support. Two seconds later, he was one floor above the foe.
Not bad. They were down two, before they had realized what had happened. No fireflies followed, nor return fire.
He considered the mission a crushing success.
Freeing his legs, he ran to the nearest utility shaft and collected the radio he had left. His gloating was unconcealed. “Looks like the anvil is having trouble, too.”
The answer came a few seconds later, in a voice that was tired but indifferent. “Yes, Cheater, inspiring. You’re even better than they say. You’ve caused us some inconveniences. But don’t rejoice yet—our problems are now your problems. Take a look outside. Remember, too, that this building was covered in glowing golden lights, and we fired every gun we had—but not a single infected took notice. Now come on, take a look outside.”
Cheater believed the man. He looked. Benz’s voice was just too confusing.
Leaning out the nearest window, he saw what the man had meant.
They all had a problem.
Chapter 28
Life Nine. Wrath of the Ghouls
Even novices knew that making noise was unwise in a city crowded with ghouls. Cheater had learned this on his own, and quickly, at the very beginning of his career on the Continent. He had managed to survive several difficult hours in the city, some of them at night. It had been his most serious test yet.
An unforgettable experience.
Sneeze? You’re dead. Cough? Dead. Flick a lighter in a room without full curtain coverage of the windows? Dead. Bad hygiene? Also dead. The infecteds had impeccable senses.
Cheater had been astounded when Benz’s group had fired their “loud” arsenal at him. Even the quietest guns were dangerous here, as bullet ricochets off of walls were hardly silent. The clicks of automatic rifles were also audible from a distance. This building was tall, and no ghouls were inside—but now everything would be heard for miles around.
Benz’s group now could not go unnoticed. Once he dealt with them, he would have to somehow deal with the infecteds.
The ghouls would come.
Yet he saw none of the beasts beginning the siege. Only on adjacent streets was their movement visible. Individual infecteds, pairs, and sometimes small groups, coming to investigate the noise. They were not rushing headlong; if anything, they were apprehensive. Perhaps the sounds had died down too quickly, or echoed down the streets, preventing the exact location of their source from being determined.
Cheater had, apparently, just spoken with Benz. He had been wrong—the leader was still alive. He had not been one of the two.
One had indeed been the sensor with the fireflies.
The other? The commander’s words had cleared up which role he had fulfilled.
What he had read and heard in Rainbow filled in the gaps. Users of these abilities were called mufflers. Their name was descriptive, and this man had been one. So Benz’s group was able to travel the borderlands without the need to use silenced weapons. They could shoot whatever they wanted, detonate grenades, sing songs, beat drums, and punch through concrete walls. Nor had they needed to worry much about night vision goggles. They could use flashlights, as long as they did not let their beams extend beyond the radius of the muffler’s skill. All sounds and light were suppressed, muted in the senses of anyone outside of the sphere of stealth. Creatures outside had heard and seen nothing suspicious.
Without realizing it, Cheater had removed this unnatural protection from the building with his first volleys. The subsequent rounds, when he had attempted to strike other foes, had alerted the nearby monsters to the presence of prey.
They had not yet figured out where the noises had come from, but their search would not take long. Ghouls came from all sides, and soon they would ascend. Every speck of dust would be sniffed, and the scent of the humans would be detected. As they rose from one floor to the next, more and more of the players’ trails would be picked up. The scent of fresh gunpowder. The spent shell casings. The stains of blood, which for some reason the System did not always convert to black dust.
Such obvious signs of prey would arouse the walkers, and the runners, and the monsters. Once they started grumbling, more and more would come. A horde would emerge from the city. Cheater had heard one story of a similar building, attacked by ghouls. The players had barricaded themselves up on the roof, but the horde packed into the building so tightly that it collapsed under their weight.
He had considered it a fiction. Now, he was not so sure.
“You happy, Cheater?” the radio asked.
He moved away from the window. “I didn’t intend this.”
“Few consequences on the Continent are intended. I offered a reasonable solution, by the way. You have chosen this yourself. So, are you satisfied?”
In reply, Cheater waxed philosophical. “My satisfaction matters to you? OK, then, I’ll attempt an answer. We all die, Benz. Many times, over and over. I have died, as have you. This is only scary the first time, and then, it becomes habitual.”
“You’re right. None of us are strangers to perishing. So let us team up. Together we can kill more of them than we could separately. It will be easier to deal with them without constantly fearing a shot in the back of the head.”
“No pact,” Cheater replied firmly. “We can make some provisions, but if you try to ascend the building, I’ll have to kill you.”
“Do you really think that scares us? Death is death, no matter who it comes from. We don’t mind, but you’ll be dying for the sake of Gang and Bling. Do you even know who the bastards are?”
“No idea,” Cheater said. “I know who you’re talking about, but I wasn’t in charge of recruitment. They were just some random last-minute additions, for one crossing.”
“Random? You’re strong players. Why would you take people you don’t know?”
“Party policy,” Cheater mumbled.
“Bad policy. Look at what it’s gotten you into. Gang—or Gangre
ne, as he calls himself these days—has a price on his head in the North and the West. The NPCs have a bounty on his head. NPCs hate moral monsters who do bad things to the digis whenever they come upon a fresh cluster. Especially when those digis are cute, underage digis. Sick players who behave worse than animals. They even excuse their own behavior by saying that the digis are going to turn into ghouls anyway. So, why do you associate with them?”
“I’m no digi, but I would shoot the bastards doing that,” Cheater answered honestly.
“Anyone would shoot them. But the NPCs have a special hatred for them. You can guess why. Gang was so viciously pursued by them that they drained a bunch of his lives, forcing him to move up north. There, he found a way to link up with a healer. Girls come in all kinds, just as guys do. Including the type who can be easily subjugated. Now, she follows him around like a doll on a leash. Once he brings her east, he will continue to sell her. I’ve heard a lot about you, Cheater. I don’t believe that you and Gang are on the same side. You yourself said that you didn’t like the man, so why are you doing this to us?”
“We are not on the same side, that’s true,” Cheater admitted, “but you should have said this from the start. Now, it’s empty chatter. We would have been happy to negotiate. But you started shooting. That’s not how things are done. Your people shot my party up. You’re not the first to do so, and you won’t be the last. We don’t talk when that happens. We shoot back. We might talk later, with any prisoners that survive.”
“Hah! As if you would give up the three of them after our conversation in those circumstances.”
“Probably not,” Cheater admitted. “We didn’t set the terms here. Shooting first is not the way to negotiation. As long as they’re a part of the party, they are treated like party members. We might kill them ourselves, but that will be an internal decision.”
“So why don’t you?” Benz asked.
“We didn’t know these details. We thought they were just vagabonds. Your Mark was noticed too late, and even then, we didn’t know why you had placed it. I’m not the one to talk to here, anyway. I’m not in a position to resolve such questions. But there might be other resolutions. We could discuss a ransom. You get paid off, and you leave. That’s not a bad option, as far as I see it.”
“You would pay us off?” Benz said, surprise audible in his voice.
“I don’t know. As I said, I’m not the one who decides. It’s worth a try. There might be other ways out, too. For now, the ghouls are the matter at hand. Do not begin to climb up. I’ve already killed one of your groups, and hit yours pretty hard. Stick your nose up here, and you’re dead.”
“No one on the Continent is immortal.”
“I know. But don’t pretend you don’t believe me. There are probably many lies told about me, but much of what is said is the truth. I have learned and grown much more since whatever rumors you heard last, too. Hold out below. Not one floor higher.”
“Fine,” the commander allowed. “But let me make one request. It’s in my interests and yours both.”
“What is it?”
“I’ve been in these situations and know what happens next. They’ll come up for us, not just up the stairs, but also up the walls. Those who climb the outside will be the strongest. On the twenty-third floor, a ledge extends out which will allow us to easily control the north wall. You can work the other three walls from the roof. Perhaps you could manage the fourth, too, but then you’d be in line of sight of my people on the ledge. I doubt you’ll want to do that, even if we swear on all our remaining lives that we won’t harm you.”
“I’m not known for trusting people,” Cheater said.”
“I know. “So, that’s all I ask. Keep a watch on those three walls, and the roof will be the best place for that.”
“I’ll try. No promises.” Cheater reluctantly began to head upstairs yet again.
This was the fifth time, now, that he was passing through these floors. How many thousands of steps had he taken this night?
And how many more would he take before it was over?
* * *
Mildly put, Cheater was not eager to help Benz and his team hold out. And it wasn’t just that he didn’t trust the bounty hunters to keep their word. Yes, they had probably devised some sort of trick, but on the Continent, that was normal. In their place, he would also have tried to seize any day which presented itself.
Cheater simply had no reason to be here. Offering himself up to the ghouls was pointless. Wasting a life for the sake of experience points was not his way.
Not that there could be much experience to be gained. It was unlikely that many ghouls would climb the walls. The creatures would flood the bowels of the building and push up that way—except, perhaps, for dire elites. Neither the flood nor the dires could be held back for long without heavy weapons. Benz was clearly not telling Cheater the whole truth.
But why? Simply because they were enemies? Why should Cheater even participate in this? They could figure it out without him; he needed to escape as quickly as possible.
He could not go down. From the roof, he could see ghouls piling inside the lower floors. Many were on the streets around it, as well. At least two hundred were visible from his vantage point. That was only one side.
The real fun would start once the infecteds undeniably detected the players.
Should he hide and wait for the ghouls to clear the building? How would he do that? Chameleon was a wonderful skill, to be sure, but it could not save him now. At close range, he would be noticed, so he would have to move to a safer area. Movement would, of course, be impossible. The infecteds’ eyes were particularly attuned to movement.
In addition, why would they need to see him? They could easily smell or feel him. Knowing them, not a single corner of this structure would go unscoured.
He had to leave, not hide.
How? As he had noted before, he could not fly.
Could he move laterally, then? How? Jump outward? The nearest building was fifty yards away. No Strength value could clear that.
What if his destination was not a building? There was a huge tower crane a bit closer, noticeably taller than his roof. The problem was its arm was pointing in the wrong direction.
The hook at its end, though, was lowered ten floors down, hanging on a thick cable. If Cheater reached it, he could climb that cable. This far above the ground, and with the Chameleon effect active, the monsters might not notice him. He would have to move slowly.
How could anyone jump slowly? Plus, his Agility and Speed were not high enough to make it. Even if he applied a buff from the Unnamed One, he would fall short.
Somehow, then, the hook must come to him. How? He could tie his rope to an arrow and make an accurate shot. Right out of a cheap action movie. But pulling the rope towards him would simply pull the arrow out—if not immediately, than soon afterward.
It looked very heavy, too. He was not strong enough. He would have to jump.
There were many other obstacles between him and completion of his plan.
He had to think quickly. The roof trembled underfoot, and an explosion threatened his eardrums. The building was shaking, and a cloud of dust rose up from the elevator shafts.
Cheater jumped in shock. The hell?
Benz sent him a message. “No worries. We’re clearing out the stairwells and sealing the shafts. Please watch your three walls.
It was then that Cheater realized that he was wrong about the enemy commander and his supposed lies. Shooting the creatures off the walls would be essential. With the ruined stairwells and other passageways, the outer walls would now be the easy way up. Benz’s group had come prepared. They had explosives, and they knew how to use them. Perhaps some shafts and passages running up through the building would remain open, but they were no longer the primary path.
The beasts noticed the sapper’s work immediately. It attracted them to the building. No slow movement now. No sniffing the area. The whole mass began to move.
Many hundreds of ghouls rushed to the unfinished building.
For some time, Cheater watched the infecteds jostle each other as they scrambled to squeeze inside door and window openings. Apparently they really did intend to bring the building down with their weight. More and more of them appeared from adjacent streets. The whole neighborhood was coming.
The moment of escape had passed. Even if he figured out a way to the crane now, it might trap him. He could not descend it, with the whole area around it teeming with ghouls. Perhaps he could relax in the control booth while the infecteds finished off Benz’s group and then scattered.