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Pangea Online 3: Vials and Tribulations

Page 15

by S. L. Rowland


  Dean kneels beside me. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t the bug creatures. This was done by some kind of horn or spear, not by a pincer.”

  “You’re right. We should get out of here before it decides to come back.”

  Dean scans his badge to enter the stairwell, but the door doesn’t open. “He must have been trying to repair it.”

  “Wait, try this.” I grab the badge clipped to the repairman’s chest. “Level-ten clearance.”

  Dean swipes the badge, but the door still doesn’t open.

  I take a look at the open panel. A couple of wires appear to have been severed. Thick gashes run through the metal door that covers the compartment. If we can use the tools to reconnect the wires, maybe we can fix the scanner and be on our way.

  A shudder runs through me as I pry the rubber gloves from the corpse’s hands. “Keep an eye out for anything coming down the hallway while I try to get this running.”

  Dean drops to one knee and focuses his attention down the hallway.

  Trying not to think about where the gloves have been, I slip my hands inside. I don’t know much about electrical repair, but this seems simple enough. Something ripped through the wires, so I need to put them back together.

  The sparks are caused by two severed wires that are barely touching one another. I pry them back and the sparks stop. The overhead lights also quit flickering and go to full-backup power, which is much dimmer.

  I search through the contents of the toolbox, finding a pair of pliers with insulated handles, a wire stripper, and a box of plastic connectors that I assume are for pairing the wires together. The wiring is mangled from whatever tore through it, so I use the wire stripper to remove enough of the insulation so that the metal ends can connect to one another.

  Next, I take the two same-colored wires and press them together. The wiring sparks as they touch, and the lights flicker to life overhead. My rubber gloves protect me from any voltage they might produce. I use the pliers to twist the wires together and then place the connector over the exposed wiring.

  Something crashes down the hallway, and Dean stiffens. The lights coming on must have disturbed whatever caused this mess.

  “We’ve got company,” he whispers as thunderous steps echo down the hallway.

  I run the badge over the scanner, but the door doesn’t open. “I need another minute to connect the second set of wires.”

  “Hurry up,” Dean snaps. “I can’t see it yet but it’s coming.”

  I quickly strip the last two wires and press them together. As I’m twisting the wires, Dean has a sharp intake of breath.

  “This is not good.” He says it so low I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or himself.

  I take a quick glance down the hallway just in time to see a massive beast taking up the majority of the tunnel and running toward us. It has a metallic silver body and eyes as red as rubies. Massive hooves thunder against the floor. Its head rocks from side to side, a shimmering horn reminiscent of a rhinoceros swinging like a pendulum.

  As soon as the wires are wrapped, I don’t even think about applying the connectors. I scan the badge and thank my lucky stars when the door opens.

  “Inside, quick!” I pull Dean in behind me as I rush into the stairwell.

  The door shuts moments before the space rhino smashes its horn into it, leaving a dent the size of my body in the metal. My pulse thunders in my ears as I take a step back and lean against the wall.

  “Close call,” I say between breaths. My fingers shake from the adrenaline pumping through my body. Funny how the excitement in my body outside translates in-game.

  “And not a moment too soon.” Dean grins. “That thing would have flattened us for sure.”

  The creature rams into the door again, startling Dean and leaving another giant dent.

  We hurry up the stairwell as the thuds crash against the door below, echoing all around us. We pass exits on each level until we reach the floor marked on the map. There are doors to both sides. The one on the left empties into the web-infested corridor. The one to the right parallels it with several storage rooms and stairwells connecting the two. If we can make it down the hallway to the right, we can reconnect with our original route after bypassing the nest.

  On full guard, we exit the door to the right. It’s void of killer insects and stampeding rhinos. Empty carts litter the hallway. They aren’t overturned or otherwise molested, just parked aimlessly. Even though it seems safe, I refuse to let my guard down. Dean and I keep our weapons raised as we hurry down the hallway, scanning entry into a storage unit.

  Without waiting, Dean immediately starts opening the crates.

  “Nice.” He moves on the next one. “Nice!” He closes the lid and moves to another. “NICE! Esil, we just hit the motherload!”

  “What are you talking about?” We’ve barely gone through any of our grenades and are well-kitted with the weapons we have now. I lift the lid and immediately see what he is talking about.

  Weapon. Plasma Minigun.

  Only two of the miniguns fit inside the crate. Long slate-gray cylinders poke out of what looks like a miniature jet engine. There’s a handle on top and a trigger mechanism at the rear. The portable turret looks like it could wreak devastation on anything in its path.

  Even though it’s powerful, the weapon is way too cumbersome and would only be practical against an unintelligent horde.

  The second crate only has one weapon inside. It’s bigger than the minigun and has a base for mounting.

  Weapon. Plasma Turret.

  The turret is even better than the minigun for stationary fighting because it can turn on a swivel, and due to not having to carry the weight of the weapon, it can be more precise and easily maneuvered.

  The final crate is filled with weapons no one would ever use on a spaceship.

  Weapon. Missile Launcher.

  Several long cylinders are packed to one side. Each one is mounted with a digital display for tracking enemy movement. Half a dozen rockets are placed vertically in foam. These are clearly designed for targeting aircraft or vehicles, not for fighting in close combat on a spaceship. One of these could probably rip a hole in the hull.

  I close the lid and turn back to Dean, who has pulled the turret base from the crate and is trying unsuccessfully to lift the turret itself.

  “What do you have in mind?” I have an idea of what he’s planning, but I want to let him formulate it himself before I offer any input. I reach into the crate and grab the other side of the turret, helping Dean mount it on the base.

  “I think the turret is our answer to clearing the hallway.” He checks the clamps on the base and moves the turret back and forth on the swivel. “If we position it in front of the door then we’ll be able to rip through the swarm as they come in. One of us can stand behind and take out any stragglers that might slip through.”

  “What about the other weapons?”

  He shakes his head. “The minigun is too bulky. If one of us got swarmed, then we’d be dead weight. With the turret, it’s easy to abandon if we have to. And the rockets are just as likely to blow us up as they are the insects. What do you think?” He looks at me expectantly.

  “Sounds like a mighty fine plan to me. So, who’s taking the turret?”

  He grins. “I really want to let this baby sing.”

  I laugh. “Go for it.” I equip my plasma sword. “I’ll handle anything that makes it past you.”

  We slide the turret to where it’s positioned directly across from the door and move the rest of the crates against the far wall. It’s about to be open season on anything that steps inside. Dean takes position behind the turret. One hand rests on the trigger and the other on a handle for aiming. A digital sight sits on top of the turret for advanced aiming.

  “Are you ready?” I ask.

  Dean nods, and I scan the badge. The door slides open with a whoosh and for a moment there is nothing but silence. I activate the blade on my plasma sword and take my posit
ion to the right of Dean. I’m strictly support in this scenario. If anything makes it past the turret, I’ll slice and dice it.

  A faint buzz comes from down the hall, growing louder by the second. All of the insects must have been waiting outside of the elevator shaft expecting us to return.

  Before they even enter the room, Dean already has the turret whirring to life. After a second, the turbine emits a bright glow and I’m forced to look away. As the turbine spins, it spits out beams of plasma in a cylindrical pattern. At full speed, the beams look like a continuous stream of glowing white energy.

  The first insects to enter the doorframe are obliterated instantly. Flakes of shell flutter through the air like ash on a windy day.

  The turret lets out a dull whine as it sprays plasma like a water hose. Dozens of insects die in a flash, vaporized by the steady beam. I’m sure that even if they wanted to turn away, the brightness of the plasma draws them in like moths to a flame.

  One insect flops to the floor, its body severed in half by the turret. It crawls forward on its two remaining legs, pincers grasping. The tips of its wings were also incinerated, making it impossible to fly. I stab it in the head just as another half-incinerated beetle clanks against my helmet.

  The turret rattles and Dean curses as the steady stream of plasma grinds to a halt. Beetles flood the enclosed room and I slash at everything within striking distance. The air is so dense with insects that I can’t even see Dean among the chaos.

  My plasma sword cuts through the bugs with ease, but there are so many that their severed body parts make it impossible to move without falling. Green ichor obscures my vision and the health readings inside my helmet flash orange and yellow along my exposed limbs. My haptic suit clenches around my arms and legs as pincers catch me in their violent grip.

  The turret was a good plan, but we didn’t anticipate it overheating. Dean can’t be faring much better. I listen for his screams, but I can’t hear anything over the scraping of carapaces and the fluttering of wings.

  I struggle as my health readings continue to plummet, but I know it’s useless. We didn’t even make it through the first stage of the tournament. Dean is going to be so disappoint—

  There’s a loud crash of splintering wood and the familiar whir of a turret cannon. Beams of plasma speckle through the insectoid horde.

  Drawn by the light, the beetles release me and surge toward its deadly embrace. I finish off the lingerers with my sword and slash at those hovering in the air nearby.

  I crawl to the door and scan the badge, stopping the influx of beetles, though I’m sure there can’t be many more outside. The floor is a slushy mixture of guts and shell, both crunchy and slippery at the same time. I take a moment to regain my composure and search for Dean among the chaos.

  I’m unable to spot him, but I do find the source of the plasma beams. They shoot out of an exploded section in one of the crates.

  Genius! He must have blown it apart from the inside.

  Thirty seconds later and we’ve finished off the last of the insects. When the whir of the minigun fades, it’s eerily quiet.

  My boots slosh with each step until I’m hovering over Dean. He breathes heavily, lying on his back with the minigun draped across his torso. He pushes it aside and I extend a hand to help him up.

  “How’d you manage to pull this off?” I ask.

  He slouches against the crate. “I panicked. I couldn’t find my weapon. I tried to escape through the other door, but you had the badge.” He shakes his head. “In that moment, I just wanted to be safe, so I climbed into one of the crates.”

  He frowns. I know that look. He’s disappointed with himself in spite of it all.

  I place my arm on his shoulder. “Hey, it doesn’t matter how you ended up in there. It saved both our asses.”

  “Easy for you to say. You didn’t run like a little kid. Everyone watching is going to see it.”

  I shake my head. “Don’t sweat it. You ran. So what? If you decide you want to keep streaming after all of this, your viewers are going to see you make some big mistakes. But this isn’t about them. This is about me and you. Sometimes you have to run so that you can live and fight another day. You want to know the truth? When I was buried under that mountain of creepy crawlies, I gave up hope. I thought we were out of the competition. I thought it was over. And then you saved us. Whether you planned to or not, you’re the reason we’re still in the tournament. Now, let’s grab our gear and finish this thing.”

  He stares at me with a blank expression for a moment, then his mouth curls at the edges. “You’re right. You might want to clean up a bit, though.”

  I look down at my body. My bodysuit is in shambles, pieces of ripped cloth hang off me in ribbons. I’m covered in enough slime that I could probably slide on my stomach down the tunnel. The gray material is stained green and red as my blood mixes with the insects’. Dean has fared much better standing behind the turret and minigun.

  I do my best to wipe the slime from my faceguard. “Gather your weapons. We need to finish off the last of the bugs on the other side, then we can get going.”

  We gear up and exit into the web-covered tunnel. The remaining insects are easy enough to finish off with our plasma rifles. The entire corridor gives me the creeps with the way the webbing drapes over everything like a sinister snowfall.

  My helmet guides us down the tunnel and eventually, the webbing fades away. Creatures scramble in the vents as we pass underneath. A blob of slime blocks the entrance to a stairwell, but our plasma grenades clear the area with no resistance. We climb a few dozen floors before being led into a new tunnel.

  This one is slimmer than the others, clearly not designed for transport. Sleek white walls stretch in perpetuity to both sides.

  I stop in front of one of the many doors lining the corridor. “These look like rooms for the crew.”

  Each door has a scanner and a peephole. I attempt to enter one of the rooms, but I’m met with “Access Denied.” Apparently, level-ten access isn’t good enough to enter personal quarters.

  “You think there’s anyone inside?”

  “Of the original crew? I doubt it. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here. Who knows what kind of creatures could be hidden within.”

  We’re making our way down the corridor when something rams against one of the doors. The sound is so unexpected that I jump. A moment later, something smashes against the door to our right.

  “That’s our cue to get moving.” I take off running down the corridor.

  Dean follows closely at my heels. More rumblings thunder all around us as creatures wreak havoc on the other side of the doors.

  Then a bone-chilling sound stops me in my tracks. A loud hiss lingers in the air as the doors behind us open simultaneously.

  A large figure steps out into the hallway. A reptilian humanoid with slick green scales looks in our direction. It has a thick tail that touches the ground, black claws on the tips of its fingers, and a head reminiscent of a T-Rex. It flashes rows of dangerous teeth as it snarls.

  As we stand frozen in shock, more of the creatures step into the corridor. Tongues lash out at the air as they taste our scent.

  “Run!” I yell.

  I pry a plasma grenade from my vest, activate it, and toss it over my shoulder. I glance back just in time to see it explode, knocking several of our reptilian pursuers against the wall.

  “Toss everything you’ve got behind us. We can’t stop and fight, but we can slow them down.” I activate another grenade and let it fly.

  “On it!” There are faint beeps each time Dean activates a grenade.

  Every few seconds, an explosion rumbles behind us. I don’t dare to look, only focused on the map before us. If we can make it to the end of the corridor, there’s a stairwell waiting for us.

  Growling and hissing mixes with the sounds of explosions and bodies hurled against the pristine white walls. Dean’s feet patter behind me. The beeping of plasma grenades speeding up just
before they explode might be the final note to a chaotic symphony if not for the thunderous pulse pounding inside my ears.

  A dark figure emerges into the tunnel a hundred yards in front of us. A scaled version of a wolf with barbs running down its spine lowers its shoulders as if ready to pounce.

  Please don’t move, I pray silently to myself. The creature is far enough away that we’ll be able to make it into the stairwell, but not if it attacks us.

  The closer we get, the deeper the creature sinks into a pouncing position. Its shoulders rock back and forth as it watches us hungrily. I can sense an impending lunge.

  We’re a few yards from the stairwell entrance when the creature lunges. I activate my plasma sword in one hand and equip the badge with another.

  The cat-wolf-reptile is mid-air when I drop to one knee. The green ichor from our battle with the beetles allows me to slide with surprising speed along the slick floor. I use my free hand to scan the entrance to the stairwell and extend my sword, ripping into the creature’s body as I pass underneath. The creature collapses to the ground, and Dean makes it safely inside.

  He stands in the doorframe with the door propped, waiting for me. I crawl to my feet and run to him, ready to unload my plasma rifle on the pursuing reptilians, but they swarm the dead creature, feasting on the easy prey.

  The door closes with a clank, and I lean against the wall.

  “Another close call.” Dean squats and presses his head to his knees. “This is way more intense than any of the training we’ve done.”

  “No, it’s not.” I shake my head. “We’ve battled aliens, escaped from dinosaurs, hell, we even fought a dragon. Not that it ended well. The only thing different is the pressure you’re putting on yourself. This is still just a game.”

  “I know. I just—” He stands back up. “I just really want to win. I want to prove that I can be more than what I am.”

  “Hey.” I step in front of him and my faceguard isn’t more than an inch from his. “You are more than you think you are. Regardless of how this ends. Just take it one step at a time. I know it’s easier said than done, but try to enjoy the experience. This is your first tournament, after all.”

 

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