《did u get the code?》
Chapter 1
Did u get the code?
Charles Pakito glanced at his phone screen as he waved his state-of-the-art holographic security card over the entrance sensor one more time.
The red light blinked, as if mocking him. His jaw tightened and his sweaty fingers clenched on the sleek plastic. He should have expected this. June 21st was the worst day of the year for him. Everything went wrong on June 21st.
He glanced at the burnished brass sign next to the door. It read: Matthew and Jacinta Cinco Student Residence, and a poster below announced: Home of Cinco Gaming and Antipode University¡¯s Pre-CollegeVideo Game Design Program.
He sighed in relief. He was in the right place. He hadn¡¯t gotten lost and ended up at the wrong building with a few minutes to go before the biggest event of his short, eight-grade life. For once, he hadn¡¯t been that much of an idiot.
He switched the plastic grocery bag from one hand to another and wiped the security card on his shirt. Maybe that would would help. This wasn¡¯t that complicated. All he had to do was figure out how to get into the dorm. He¡¯d been in the program almost a week now. He should be able to figure this out.
The red light blinked again.
He threw up his hands, almost dropping the bag with his precious supplies. The brand-new, high-tech building was named after billionaire Matthew Cinco, the founder of Cinco Computing and Antipode University¡¯s most famous alumni. He topped the World¡¯s Richest list, and his photograph was in all the biggest video game magazines. His impressive piles of moolah had funded both the building and the G&T program. Apparently the billionaire money didn¡¯t got that far, as they still had a crappy card sensor and a bucketload of tech bugs.
But it didn¡¯t matter. Charles was still excited to be here. He wasn¡¯t sure how he¡¯d gotten an all-paid scholarship to Antipode College¡¯s highly-coveted gifted and talented video game design program¡ªhis test scores were high, but his grades left a lot to be desired, to put it mildly¡ªbut. somehow, he¡¯d scored an invite. It was a dream-come-true for a game-obsessed kid like him.
Particularly since, yes, he had absolutely gotten the super-secret video game code. His friend Stephen, better known by his gaming handle, Scales, had emailed it to him. He couldn¡¯t wait to try it out.
Who would have thought a quick run to the campus store would be such a hassle? He''d expected to dash in and out and make it back with plenty of supplies for the beta-testing marathon. Instead, he was standing in front of a wall of glass, juggling bags full of potato chips, microwave mac ¡¯n¡¯ cheese, and soft drinks, as he fought the security card deathmatch. The cloudy sky turned the glass into a mirror and his figure-- a skinny boy with dark hair, tan skin, dark eyes and a hoodie pulled over his head, looked downright pathetic.
After a long, seemingly-eternal minute, the speaker on the wall made a crackling sound.
"Come in, son," the security guard said, as he buzzed Charles in.
A human rescue, finally.
"Thanks, Mike" Charles said, almost dropping a bag as he pushed open the heavy glass door. "I owe you one."
The foyer was all metal and glass with futuristic furniture and an abstract, wave-like sculpture that was titled ¡°Ambitious Advancement¡± but was widely known among the students as ¡°the exploding toilet.¡± The room was cold and stark and the only touch of warmth was an old photo of donor Matthew Cinco with his wife Jacinta. The picture had been taken many years ago and Mr. Cinco was wearing an ill-fitting blue suit with an oversized tie that matched his wife¡¯s unfashionable floral dress. The vintage photo was decidedly dorky, but sweet, and the bright smiles of the happy couple were a stark contrast to the sharp-edged, reflective surroundings.
The heavy-set African-American man smiled at Charles as he sat in his usual spot behind the gleaming metal guard desk. ¡°Whoa, slow down. You have a good fifteen minutes to go. And you''ll owe me a thousand by the time this program is done. They aren''t fixing the card readers until regular classes start in September. Are those Ding Dongs for me?¡±
"Of course.¡± Charles handed the blue and white plastic package over, glad he¡¯d remember Mike¡¯s favorites. "They had the chocolate creme ones today."A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"Those are the best," Mike said, his grin growing wider. "Thanks, man. I''ll need these to get me through the next batch of security patches. Forget the technological mumbo-jumbo. Give me Ding Dongs any time."
Charles glanced at the screen in front of the guard. "The program is still acting up?"
Mike sighed. "Always. I know the new Cinco system is supposed to be the best, but so far it''s just bug after bug. There''s a rumor they are getting hacked too."
"There''s always bugs,¡± Charles said, heading for the elevators. ¡°And there¡¯s always hackers.¡±
"You''re not wrong about that, dude. By the way, you may want to take the stairs today. If that elevator gets jammed again, I¡¯ll have to call the fire department and then you¡¯ll definitely be late for the log-in time.¡±
"Thanks for the tip," Charles, said, turning towards the emergency stairwell.
The last thing he needed was to spend June 21st stuck in an elevator eating sour-cream-and-onion potato chips while everyone else logged on to the system in time. He held on to his bag and pushed open the heavy stairwell door with his shoulder. Today was an unlucky day for him and he was taking no chances.
He reached the fourth floor, breathing hard., kicked open the stairwell door and headed down the long, painfully fluorescent hallway. The corridor was lined by bleached wood doors, each leading to a single-occupancy dorm room and there was a common area at the end of the hallway. He didn¡¯t see his friend, Stephen Smith¡¯s wheelchair¡ªStephen, or Scales if you went by his gaming handle which Charles often did, was probably already logging in. He could, however, see Grace Chamorro, class rich girl and teacher¡¯s pet extraordinare, holding court in the common area.
He quickly turned the other way. The last thing he needed was a lecture from Grace. He sneaked by the RA¡¯s room, making sure no one saw him and turned the corner, finally reaching his room. He slumped against the door, mentally high-giving himself. If the resident advisor had seen him, she would have made him join the group. That was the problem with living in the shallow end of the autism spectrum. Everyone kept trying to teach you to play well with others. Luckily, avoiding people was his superpower and he¡¯d reached his room without meeting a soul.
Like all the dorm doors, his entry had a multi-media screen in front. It was currently lit up with congratulatory messages from friends who had also gotten into the program, texts, and greetings from his far-flung family. Being in a high-tech college dorm was, he had to admit, pretty cool, even if there was the occasional glitch or two.
His mom was back in the Caribbean with her family and she''d sent a bunch of "miss you, Chavo,¡° ¡°TQM,¡± and "are you okay?¡± texts and messages. He winced as he saw them. TQM, the text contraction for ¡°the quiero mucho¡± was such a typical mom move. She¡¯d added ¡°I know you¡¯ll do well. De tal palo tal astilla.¡± The apple doesn¡¯t fall far from the tree.He erased the board, making sure no one was around to see this.
His much less embarrassing sister was in Peru with the Peace Corps and she''d sent various selfies with her team. She seemed to be having fun building latrines in Machu Picchu or something like that. No "are you okay" message from Carla though. His sister seemed completely oblivious to the significance of the date. Maybe she¡¯d forgotten, although that seemed unbelievable to him.
But he didn¡¯t begrudge Carla her oblivious enjoyment. He wouldn''t be in Peru or in Puerto Rico this summer, but he was expecting to have fun too. This year, he wouldn''t let June 21st get him down.
An image flashed through his mind. He and his sister Carla sitting around the neighbor''s kitchen table, watching as the police walked in and out of their house. Their mom sat with the neighbor in the living room, trying to hide her tears. The kitchen television was set to cartoons, studiously avoiding the local news. Ben 10 saved the universe in the television, while the police crawled in and out of Charles'' house, slowly dismantling his world.
His neighbors had put a bowl of plain potato chips in front of them. He didn''t remember eating them, but by the time their mom took them to the airport the chips were gone. He must have eaten them somehow. He remembered licking the crumbs off his fingers as his mother explained that they would not be seeing they father for a while.
¡°A while¡± turned out to be a lot longer than anyone had expected. He still couldn¡¯t eat plain potato chips. The mere thought of them made them nauseous. Sour cream or bust.
He shook the image out of his head. He wouldn''t think about that today. This June 21st would be different.
And that was due to the because of the big white box covered with labels that sat in front of his door. The labels said ¡°confidential,¡± ¡°experimental,¡± and ¡°must sign NDA before opening.¡± He wasn¡¯t sure what an NDA was--non-disclosure agreement?--but his mom had signed a bunch of papers when he¡¯d gotten into the program, presumably it had been in there.
She must have signed it because without it he wouldn¡¯t be able to take part in the highlight of the summer program: a chance to beta test Cinco Gaming¡¯s new product: the Legends of the Universe virtual reality game.
And the chance to use the special code. He didn¡¯t know where Scales had found it, but it was supposed to¡ªdo something amazing. Some fantastic upgrade or a new character or something like that. Cinco Gaming was known for its out-of-this-world special content, so it was bound to be special. Just being able to test the new VR system would be awesome, and the super-secret code made it even better.
A flash of light made him look back up. His door screen was now glowing brightly, the words "Did you get it?" scrolling across the screen. The signature read @raptorscales.
Charles smiled. Oh, yes, he''d gotten it.
This June 21st would be different. It would be awesome.
Chapter 2
¡°You¡¯re late,¡± Scales¡¯ distinctly high-pitched voice echoed from the speakers in the dorm room. ¡°My game system showed up five minutes ago, and I can''t wait to get in.¡±
Charles smiled. Scales was as devoted to video games as he was. He was a freak about weaponry and was as obsessed with firepower as Charles was with strategy and gameplay. They¡¯d bonded as soon as they¡¯d met at the start of the program, which would reassure Charles¡¯ mom who desperately wanted him to find a friend. Sure, they didn¡¯t socialize much outside video games and Charles knew little of his family or background, but he didn¡¯t care. What else was there to know? Scales had the muscle, at least in video game format, and Charles had the brains. They were the perfect gaming team.
"Why haven''t you tried it yet?" Charles asked, as he put away the chips and drinks.
His room was small, about the size of a small closer, and it barely fit a bed and a desk, but it still had space for a small mini-fridge where he could keep drinks cold. With the plaid comforter and messy pile of textbooks, it looked like your typical college dorm room. The one thing that set it apart was the large screen on the wall. That was the second defining feature of the Cinco dorm rooms--they were completely interactive. Charles could attend lectures, submit assignments and watch movies from the giant screen.
And he could also try out his new toy.
"I''m trying," Scales moaned. "But that talk on video games story design went into overtime. The Cinco Gaming guy kept going on and on about how much research goes into their storylines, and how realistic they try to be, and how they bring experts in to help out, and blah, blah, blah. It started out interesting, but then turned into a two-hour-long Cinco ad. I guess that¡¯s the price we pay for being in this program.¡± He sighed into his headpiece, the sound echoing through the room. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m still slogging through the legal disclaimers. Isn''t it enough that I had to take a physical to qualify for this project? I also need to drown in legalese? Don¡¯t they know who my dad¡ª¡°
An awkward silence fell.
¡°Speaking of dads,¡± Scales said. "Um, condolences and all that stuff, dude. I know the anniversary is hard."
Charles instantly regretted sharing too much personal info in the group chats. He¡¯d been explaining why his game was off last year. Scales had commiserated and revealed he¡¯d lost his mom when he was young. Charles supposed it was the kind of sweet bonding moment you were supposed to have with friends, but he still regretted. It was probably no big deal, but his father¡¯s arrest and subsequent disappearance had made national news. There was always a chance that someone could use the info to dox him. He trusted Scales, but one couldn¡¯t be too careful these days.
Being Gabriel Alejandro Pakito¡¯s son in real life was bad enough. He didn¡¯t need that kind of stigma in his online existence, and he particularly didn¡¯t need it in the Cinco Gaming community. If it got out that the son of one of the company¡¯s most notorious saboteurs was attending a middle school summer program sponsored by Matthew Cinco things could get ugly.
"Not a problem," Charles replied, as uncomfortable with the emotional turn of the conversation as his friend. "I''m going to stay busy today."
"Good," Scales replied, sounding relieved. ¡°Pretty nice of Grace to arrange for this. It gives you a distraction at least.¡±
¡°It was,¡± Charles admitted. ¡°How in the world did she manage it?¡±
¡°Well, her dad did, but she was the one who came up with the idea and pushed for it to be part of the middle school program.¡±
¡°Must be nice,¡± Charles replied, trying to imagine being able to get your parents to bring cutting-edge virtual reality technology to your summer camp.
He failed. He was definitely not in that category. He had a feeling Scales was, though. His friend had the self-assurance for a rich kid and the program staff seemed to treat him with kid gloves.
And he¡¯d gotten the code. That took clout.
¡°Time¡¯s running out.,¡± Charles said, turning toward far more important matters. ¡°I¡¯m going to start setting up.¡±
"Awesome,¡± Scales blurted, eager to skirt the topic. ¡°I¡¯m so excited to finally play Primemonger. The character design looked fantastic in the leaked videos, and that Megatech emerald axe is sweet. I wonder if the code gets us something even better.¡°
Charles laughed, happy to be talking about the game again. "Oh, please. He''s just a Tarzan rip-off with a big stick."
"Shut your mouth," Scales said. ¡°He¡¯s much cooler than Tarzan. He''s a Black Panther rip-off with a high-tech treehouse in the jungle and dinosaur pets. This dude is T''Challa with dinosaurs.¡±
¡°It¡¯s a glorified Jungle Hunt,¡± Charles taunted, mentioning the 80s game Scales adored.
His friend was a true video game history nerd. His apparently wealthy parents had financed a huge collection of retro game hardware, and he spent most of his free time in obscure web forums discussing bygone games. Talk about useless knowledge.
¡°That is more accurate than you realize,¡± Scales said in his most pedantic tone. ¡°Jungle Hunt included pioneering parallax scrolling techniques that gave the 2-D game a sensation of depth and realism, just like Legends of the Universe is breaking new ground in virtual reality with its new hardware.¡±The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Charles groaned. Scales always had some arcane little bit of video game trivia he could pull out of a hat to score a point.
But Charles was ready to counter Scales¡¯ trivia. ¡°It¡¯s Tomb Raider with dinosaurs.¡±
His comment was greeted by offended silence.
¡°Ouch,¡± Scales said. ¡°That hurts, man. The only good thing about that game is the soundtrack and Lara Croft¡¯s English accent. I have a copy of Angel of Darkness and it¡¯s unplayable. Primemonger may not have a cool lizard accent, but he is the bomb, and is much cooler than that crap cowboy you like."
"Hey, at least I can aim,¡± Charles replied, laughing.
A love of vintage Western movies was the one good thing his dad had left him. Ranger, the sharpshooting sniper class Legends character suited him perfectly. Scales, however, disagreed.
"Who needs to aim when they can crush?" Scales replied. ¡°Your Clint Eastwood clone is so fragile, he can¡¯t even take a fall.¡±
That was Scales in a nutshell. He didn''t care about strategies or skill, all he wanted was big weapons and big explosions. This game would hopefully deliver both.
¡°You don¡¯t need a lot of HP if you don¡¯t rush headlong into trouble,¡± Charles said.
Scales laughed. ¡°Trouble is what makes life interesting. And dude had healing ability which comes in handy.¡±
Charles rolled his eyes. The one drawback to playing with Scales is that he was an adrenaline junkie who leaped head-first into any adventure and usually got killed early as a result. That kind of impulsivity didn¡¯t win you games.
¡°PrimeMonger has minor healing ability,¡± he countered. ¡°That¡¯s barely better than your average healing tonic. Ranger has a cyborg arm with built-in blasters and multiple rounds. Now that¡¯s impressive.¡±
¡°Please,¡± Scales scoffed. ¡°PrimeMonger has two sets of cyborg claws that can slice through anything. Both hands. That¡¯s exactly 100% percent better.¡±
Charles laughed, giving up. He wasn¡¯t going to convince his friend.
"Well, I better go meet my crap cowboy," he said. ¡°At least some of us appreciate the classics.¡±
"And I''ll keep signing releases. Good thing, I¡¯m a minor and don¡¯t actually have the capacity to sign my life, what there¡¯s left of it anyway, away. Good luck, see you in the game.¡±
The dorm speakers went silent and he was left staring at the white box.
There were no distinguishing features¡ªno labels or signs. If he didn¡¯t know better, he would have thought its contents were completely uninteresting. It didn''t even have instructions.
He opened the box--
And stared at a block of styrofoam, or at least something that looked like styrofoam. A disappointed sigh escaped him. Gee, they''d packed this up tight, hadn''t they?
He fought to get the protective layers out. There was a lot of environmentally-conscious plastic substitute here. He finally peeled the foamy exoskeleton out and unwrapped the contents of the box.
It was a helmet¡ªa shiny metal helmet with a visor and ear flaps. The contraption was surprisingly light¡ªit felt more like rubber than metal¡ªand he fought the temptation to throw it at a wall and see if it bounced.
Grace wouldn''t like that. Her dad worked for Cinco Gaming, and he¡¯d been the one who¡¯d arranged for the G&T program to test the system. She''d been ridiculously proud of the web-like design when she''d shown it off yesterday in the cafeteria, touting its light weight and comfortable fit.
"You won''t even know it''s there," she''d said, her hazel eyes shining with excitement. "And you''ll feel like you''re really in the game."
That had seemed an unlikely proposition at the time, but it was a lot more plausible now.
He reached into the box and extracted the gloves. They had a similar web-like design, like something Spider-Man would wear. Presumably, there was a controller in there somewhere, but it was difficult to tell. They just looked like very sophisticated mesh gloves.
He pulled the gloves on. He flexed his fingers. The gloves felt normal, like regular gloves, except more expensive. They were soft and he feared they would slide right off the helmet when he reached for it, but they didn''t. The grip was true. His excitement level rose. The gloves made him feel like a superhero
He examined the interior of the helmet--glossy gray mesh, smooth visor, no visible electronics.
Very nice. The only operating part seemed to be a small button on the side. He pushed it very gently.
And jumped as the screen on the wall flashed to life, almost making him drop the helmet. He clutched the equipment, feeling his heart beating frantically in his chest. The words "I''m in, dude!!!!!!" scrolled across the wall.
Apparently, Scales¡ªthe ultimate exclamation point addict¡ªhad finished the legal stuff.
"Last one in is a rotten egg!!!!" the screen screamed.
Charles smiled. His friend''s enthusiasm was contagious.
He pressed the small button on the side of the helmet again. For a second, nothing happened, then the screen in his room went dark.
An upbeat melody rang out from the speakers. A sea of stars appeared on the screen, followed by bright white letters.
"Welcome to the Legends of the Universe," they spelled.
"Hello," a melodious voice rang out from the speakers. "Welcome to the Cinco Gaming¡¯s Legends of the Universe, a groundbreaking experience in gaming."
Charles smiled. They thought highly of themselves didn''t they? Guess you had to, if you named your gaming world Legends of the Universe. Now that was raising the bar.
"You may now put on your helmet," the voice continued.
Charles raised the helmet. Wait¡ªthere was something he had to do first.
¡°Code 556212014-dot-EXE.¡±
His words were greeted by silence. For a moment he¡¯d wondered if he¡¯d gotten the numbers wrong, and wasn¡¯t EXE a file tag? There was always the possibility that Scales had gotten it wrong¡ª
A long beep echoed through the room. ¡°Code activated,¡± the voice declared. ¡°Thank you.¡±
¡°No,¡± Charles said, laughing at the system¡¯s polite tone. ¡°Thank you.¡±
It was now or never. Wow, his hands were actually shaking. How ridiculous. He¡¯d played tons of video games in his life¡ªfar too many, probably. This was just one more.
Okay, it was very high-tech and the helmet in his hand was probably worth more than his entire family¡ªheck maybe his entire neighborhood¡ªbut no big deal, right? It was just a game.
He slowly placed the helmet on his head and everything went dark. Grace had been right, you could barely feel it there. What was this thing made of¡ªcobwebs and fairy dust? The tech was amazingly¡ª
Glowing letter appeared in front of him.
In memoriam: Jacinta Elena ¡°Jace¡± Cinco (1970-2014).
Charles sighed, tapping his gloved fingers impatiently as he waited for the letters to fade. Matthew Cinco started every single game with a tribute to his dead wife. It was sweet, but it lasted way too long.
He froze. He couldn¡¯t see anything, but he could hear Scales'' faint voice coming over the helmet''s interior speakers. His friend sounded confused, and Charles had a hard time distinguishing the words.
But it sounded like Scales was saying "something''s wrong."
Chapter 3
Something was definitely not right.
¡°Where did you get that code, Scales?¡± Charles muttered as he scanned the gamescape.
He was in the desert. Sand stretched as far as he could see. The sun gleamed on the golden expanse with only rocks and a few small, stunted plants breaking the stretches of scorched dust.
Oh, wait, that was probably a cactus.
He couldn''t quite tell because it looked weird. He''s seen the Legends of the Universe graphics in the many teaser trailers and leak videos that had come out in the past year. Legends was sleek. It had sophisticated facial animation and realistic movements. It had sweeping vistas with impressive buildings and shifting perspectives. It had freaking palm trees that waved in the breeze. It had sharp-needled walking cacti that looked like cool metallic porcupines, if porcupines were green and six feet tall.
That was one of the most popular game trailers¡ªRanger, the game''s cyborg cowboy, jumping over cacti and shooting with his cyborg arm. It was one of the most impressive visuals Charles had seen so far and he''d been hoping it would be a character highlight video.
But these cacti didn''t look like the Legends cacti. The shape was the same and he suspected that its role in game was similar to that of the Legends cacti, but it looked a lot more primitive--just a couple of ink strokes and shading without the sharp coloring typical of the Legends game.
Come to think of it, all the colors were a bit dull. The whole sandy expanse seemed to be composed of endless shades of sepia. It kind of reminded him of the creepy etchings his father used to have in his study. Those drawings, however, were old, and when he said old, he mean ancient. His father had been a professor of Latin American folklore at Antipode University and some of those things were ancient engravings straight out of Mayan and Aztec works.
And the soundtrack? This was a far cry from the Legends epic orchestra. This sounded like an Atari version of an old cowboy television show theme. Maybe it was a glitch. That would explain why Scales had said that something was wrong.
The other aspects of the game seemed fine. The sun was shining and he could almost feel the heat of it on his skin. The must be some kind of psychosomatic response. His brain expected heat and it created a ghost feeling.
It was eerily real, though.
So that part of the VR system worked. Now what about the rest of the game?
He pressed a button and a screen popped up in front of his line of sight.
Welcome to Cincoworld, Pak-Man.
Charles frowned. His username was correct, but¡Cincoworld? The Western-themed world in Legends was called Scorch Gulch. Why was he being welcomed to a place called Cincoworld?
It made sense in a way. The Legends'' big pitch was its five interlocked maps, each with a distinct environment and new threats and treasure. Each of the Legends heroes came from one world and they all joined forces to vanquish the big baddie that was trying to take over their universe.
So far, so simple. But what was with this name? Matthew Cinco named a game after himself? It sounded awkward, like it was the original name of the game, before the marketing mavens stepped in and turned it into something catchier.
The welcome screen disappeared and more letters coalesced in front of his eyes.
Character Selection Screen.
The letters faded and a procession of humanoid shapes took their place. He recognized a familiar poncho-clad cowboy in front, flanked by two more characters on either side.
Now this was more like it. These seemed to be the characters he''d seen in the trailer--Ranger the cyborg cowboy, Tekaneer the hacker pirate. Primemonger the lizard barbarian, Knightstrike the medieval warrior, Skinblade the ninja.
But they all looked different, just like the cactus did. It wasn''t necessarily bad, just a stylistic change. The basics were there. Each character was a different color and each color had an advantage and a disadvantage against other colors. Ranger was gold and he was strong against blue and weak against purple. Tekaneer was purple and she was strong against gold and weak against red. Primemonger was green and he was weak against blue and strong against red. Skinblade was red and she was strong against purple and weak against green. Knightstrike was blue and he was weak against gold and strong towards green. It was tricky to figure out, but there was a handy little circle chart on the upper left hand corner of his screen, in case he needed a reminder.
Now that he was getting used to it, the art even seemed kind of cool. Ranger looked a bit cartoony in the Legends teasers--just a shiny superhero in cowboy gear. Here, however, he looked rugged and simple, almost like a real cowboy.
Same with the other characters. Tekaneer was a blaze of cryptic lines, a cyborg eyepatch and a haughty expression. Primemonger looked a lot scarier as an old-fashioned line drawing, his eyes gleaming in a sinister manner. Knightstrike was a towering, shadowy figure with sharp armored edges, and SkinBlade was a short metal blur with cunning eyes.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Like Ranger, they all looked a bit more intense than the characters Charles had seen in the teasers. Tekaneer''s arrogance was clearer. Primemonger''s smile was more sardonic.
It was not, he had to admit, a bad change, but he wondered what caused it. Maybe they were beta testing a different version, or the visor changed the player''s perceptions?
Well, they''d been told to expect the unexpected. This definitely matched the brief.
He stared at Knightstrike''s outline. Charles had been attracted to Ranger''s character from the start. The lone wolf, Clint Eastwood type was his favorite heroic persona, and the iconic poncho and cigar didn''t hurt. Ranger looked like a character from the old Western movies he¡¯d watched with his father. That¡¯s why he¡¯d always been attracted to that particular avatar.
But Knightstrike was looking pretty neat right now. Charles had dismissed the character as a dimwitted tank type, but this design looked different. It looked darker.
And there was something to be said for dimwitted tank types. They had plenty of health points, not a bad thing to have when exploring unknown terrain.
"Scroll," he said, expecting the hero avatars to spin so that Knightstrike replaced Ranger.
But it didn''t happen.
He pressed a button. Nothing.
"Knightstrike," he said out loud.
Again, nothing. The voice recognition didn¡¯t seem to be faulty. The character, however, appeared to be locked.
Come to think of it, Knightstrike''s outline did look fainter than Ranger''s. Charles hadn''t given it any thought because all of the other characters were grayer than Ranger, so he''d assumed it was just how the hero carousel worked.
He tried again, ¡°Tekaneer."
Nothing.
He tried all the characters in turn.
Nada.They were all locked.
This made no sense. The whole point of this game was to be able to play all the characters. You needed to collect each character¡¯s power weapon during the game and then use them all in the last level. Locking the characters made no sense.
"Ranger," he said.
With that word, he was sent back to Ranger avatar. It appeared the voice recognition was working fine.
Letters appeared on the screen. You have chosen well.
Charles snorted. He hadn''t chosen at all. Ranger was his only option. Not necessarily a bad thing, since Ranger was the character he''d been attracted to from the start. The game, however, didn''t know that.
Why had it picked Ranger? Were all his friends stuck playing this character? Hopefully not. That would be a very frustrating game. Scales, for one, would be livid if he was stuck with the crap cowboy, as he called it.
The letters were replaced by Ranger''s smirking avatar on a slightly shaking screen.
Charles smiled. The avatar looked even more badass than before. Forget Knightstrike. This was his guy. However, there was a downside to Ranger.
"Stats," he said.
A set of letters and numbers appeared, glowing next to the cowboy''s head. They were, well, they could be better. They were based on a twenty-four point scale. Agility and Intelligence were both twenty-two. Aim was twenty-four. Those weren''t bad. But strength was a measly eighteen and health was a groan-inducing sixteen points. But his special moves were sweet. He had Dead On, which improved his accuracy and Two-Step, which let him do multi-step moves, like shoot two-handed or jump and shoot. They weren¡¯t as showy as Scales¡¯ Fist of Fury, but they should let him so some pretty cool stuff.
"Inventory," he said.
Symbols appeared, seemingly floating in mid-air. He had two healing potions and one healing pack. If the game mechanics remained the same, he''d be able to find more healing potions along the way. In addition, both Knightstrike and Primemonger¡ªone a paladin class and the other a shaman class¡ªwere healers. Once he found Scales he¡¯d be fine in the health department.
And, speaking of Scales¡ª¡°Chat,¡± he said.
More letters appeared. There¡¯s no one nearby to chat with.
Weird. Scales, Grace and the rest of the kids should be logging in as well. ¡°Do I have to be close to someone to chat with them?¡±
The character needs to be in sight range for chat to work.
So he¡¯d have to find his friends. Okay. That shouldn¡¯t be a problem. Scales would be in the jungle-like Primal Peninsula hunting dinosaurs, and living out his Black Panther fantasy. All Charles had to do was head there.
"Scroll," he said, trying to figure out what he would need for a trip to Primal Peninsula.
The rest of his meager inventory circled in the air--cans of baked beans, a winter poncho, a gun--
Wait, a gun? It was a nifty 1873 Colt revolver, but why did he need it if he had the cyborg arm with all the firepower anyone could ever--
He examined the avatar again. The cowboy''s left arm was covered by the poncho. It was almost as if he had no left arm at all.
Which he probably didn''t. Charles sighed. He had a sneaking suspicious he knew what was going on. He raised his right hand. The avatar imitated his motion. That arm worked fine.
He raised his left arm. Nothing.
He sighed. This must be his tutorial--a chance to get to know the game with an introductory adventure. Oh, joy.
And he thought he knew what the tutorial objective was: Find the cyborg arm. It was kind of clever when you thought of it. He liked games where they gave you a lot of character storyline and going through the origin of the cyborg arm was an excellent tutorial. Kudos to the game designers for thinking this one up.
"Map," he said.
The avatar, the stats and the inventory were replaced by a two-dimensional map of the area. It wasn¡¯t very detailed, but it gave him a general idea of where he was. This area was called The Wastelands, which was appropriate since there seemed to be composed of a whole lot of desert, a decent amount of cacti, and a small town called Scorch Gulch. The town had a saloon, perfect for getting information, a church, which seemed like a likely source of healing potions, and a blacksmith''s shop.
He smiled as he moved the cursor over the blacksmith¡¯s shop. An arm-like silhouette appeared above it.
Bingo. All he had to do was head to the blacksmith and pick up his arm. Tutorials were usually dead easy, so this shouldn¡¯t take too long. As soon as he had his weapon, he¡¯d be ready to head to the Primal Peninsula, find Scales, and¡ª
He peered at the shop icon. It seemed to be glitching, pixelating and un-pixelating and changing its shape until it turned into¡ªa skull?
It was a stylized skull, one of those Dia de los Muertos calavera designs with the empty eyes that drew you in. He¡¯d had one at home once, hanging next to the china cabinet in the dining room, and it had always creeped him out. This one had a crow¡¯s beak, which was different.
Glowing green letters floated in front of him.
Username @Virus: Get Out While You Still Can.
Chapter 4
¡°Chat with username @Virus,¡± Charles barked at the computer as he trudged through the sandy landscape.
There¡¯s no one nearby to chat with.
¡°He just sent me a message,¡± Charles replied through gritted teeth. He¡¯d been having this conversation for the past ten minutes and the computer kept playing dumb. ¡°Let¡¯s try again. Chat with username @raptorscales.¡±
The likeliest explanation was that his friend was pranking him, but that would mean Scales was in Wastelands, which would be nice. It would certainly break the monotony of the tutorial.
There¡¯s no one nearby to chat with.
He sighed. So much for that idea. Walking was...walking. Not the most interesting part of the game, for sure. The desert vistas were surprisingly compelling given the hand-drawn art style. The cacti looked appropriately prickly and the sand gleamed under the scorching sun. The VR interface was amazing. He could almost feel his avatar''s boots sinking into the sand as he walked.
But he was still just walking.
The monotonous feel was somewhat lightened by the soundtrack, which keep looping through various cowboy movie themes. It wasn''t that bad, now that he was used to the tinny, retro sound.
It was appropriate to the setting, if a little stark. His only companions were a bunch of tumbleweeds and some hares off in the distance. The rabbits looked like they had horns on the top of their heads¡ªjackalopes? This game seemed to have cryptids and mythological creatures, which was something the scifi-themed Legends of the Universe did not have. The heroes in that game fought aliens.
The fantasy theme was nifty, at least as far as the cute bunnies were concerned. The creepy calaveras were another story.
He stopped and examined the herd. They seemed to be dragging something. Should he go and investigate or¡ª
A figure appeared in front of him, startling him.
Like everything else in the game, it looked oddly hand-drawn. It was an old man wearing a tattered cowboy hat, a leather vest, jeans and cowboy boots. He looked like a stereotypical rangy cowboy except for one thing: He was a robot.
The old man tilted up his hat and smiled, his robot eyes glowing red. "Welcome to the Wastelands. You look like you are new around here. I am Win Chester and I can show you around, or answer questions."
Ah, this must be the tutorial. Tutorials were short sequences at the beginning of games that allowed the player to get familiar with the system. The old man was an NPC, or non-playing character, he likely had a limited amount of information he had to impart.
And his name was a pun. Win Chester or Winchester the name of an Old West gun manufacturer. Ha ha. Very funny.
This game was a riot. Not.
The old man turned and pointed at a couple of faint shapes on the horizon. "The town is over there."
Charles peered at the horizon. The shapes could very well be houses or shops, But they looked far away. Was he going to have to spend half an hour trudging through the desert? That would get old real fast.
"You can get there faster by using your boost,¡± Win said.
Instructions for using the boost appeared in the air, telling Charles he had to press the controller''s directional buttons twice. The tutorial was useful, at least.
"The town has an apothecary where you can find healing potions, a saloon where you will find food and water, and a blacksmith who can provide weapons and cybernetic parts." He glanced at the left side of Pak-Man''s poncho. "I can''t help but notice that you are missing a little something there, ha."
The old man''s laugh was more like a bark, but it got the point across. He was supposed to go to town, get used to his avatar''s movements and gather some supplies.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
"Follow me," the old man said.
Then he started walking towards the buildings in the distance, his shadow lengthening in the harsh sun.
Charles didn¡¯t follow him. He didn''t have to go, of course. He could just quit.
This wasn''t the game he''d agreed to try. Heck, he couldn''t even figure out what it was. It wasn''t a glitch. It was an entirely different game, one that looked old and outdated. On that involved a ton of boring walking and weird glitches.
How had this happened? He was curious. He couldn''t deny that.
Sure, he could quit, like that Virus person wanted him to do. But..he never quit. He always played through, no matter how terrible the game was. He always stuck it out.
And Scales was somewhere in here. He couldn¡¯t quit before his friend. He¡¯d never hear the end of it, particularly if Scales turned out to be Virus, which seemed likely. Scales would never let him forget he¡¯d been scared off by a little crow skull.
He followed the old man, boots sinking in the sand.
But the walk went pretty quick, thanks to the boost. They had to jump a ravine, which taught him the jumping sequence. They had to avoid some tumbleweeds, which taught him how to move sideways. He had to shoot a rock, which taught him that he needed a weapons upgrade pronto because his avatar¡¯s revolver had great aim, but wimpy firepower.
Hopefully, the blacksmith''s shop would be able to fix that.
By the time they reached the town fo Scorch Gulch, he was dangerously low on hit points¡ªthose tumbleweeds could do real damage when they hit you¡ªbut he knew all the basic moves.
"I bet you want to head for the saloon," the old man said. "You should have enough money for a healing potion and some water. It should get you back to your maximum health."
Yeah, probably just enough money for that. That was the magic of the tutorial. It kind of walked out through the game and gave you the basics for survival and little else.
The town was your stereotypical Western ghost town¡ªa couple of wood buildings, a sandy street, and a pair of bored-looking horses. One of the buildings had a sign that read "Saloon."
"Let''s go get some water," the old man said.
They headed for the saloon. It had, of course, swinging half doors and he got a little thrill stepping through them. The bartender stood behind the bar, polishing a glass. He was dressed in a white shirt and black pants. A group of cowboys were playing cards in a corner. One was dressed in a long, embroidered overcoat with a cloth hat and a tie, and was likely a gambler character.
Charles examined the characters. ¡°I don¡¯t suppose one of you is called Virus by any chance?¡±
He got no response. They were all NPCs who had limited dialogue.
¡°No one by that name here,¡± the bartender said. ¡°Just Gambler, Deadmark, and Sneakerette, our regulars.¡±
"Those gentlemen look like bad news," the old man said. "But you could earn some gold playing against them."
Ah, so that was how he would earn money for the potions and weapons. He had to play poker. That sounded boring. Why would anyone put a card game into a first person shooter game?
"Or," the old man continued with a smirk. "You could try to steal it."
Charles smiled. Now that was more like it. Let''s learn some stealth moves.
They stepped up to the bar. Different bottles appeared in the air--water, lager...cactus juice?
"Nothing restores HP like cactus juice," the old man said.
He wasn''t wrong. The cactus juice would give him 50 HP. It would also cost 10 gold nuggets, which was all he had in his inventory.
He pulled up his inventory and clicked on the gold nuggets. The gold symbol disappears and was replaced by the cactus juice bottle. He clicked on it and watched his HP shoot up.
Well, that was all the gold he had.
He glanced at the card table. It was time to get some more.
He examined the players from under the rim of his hat. The Gambler was a new character, but the others weren¡¯t. The woman, dressed in a red Victorian gown with a matching cowboy hat, resembled one of the the Legion of the Universe characters, Sneakerette. Maybe it was an older version of the character. If so, she¡¯d be super agile and cunning.
Not the best theft victim one could pick.
The Gambler was also not a good choice. He looked sneaky and hyper-aware. Charles wasn¡¯t sure what the consequences would be if he was caught stealing, but he didn¡¯t really want to find out this early in the game. The Gambler was also a purple character. Charles¡¯ gold cowboy would be at a disadvantage.
That left the third player.
The large, blond man looked very intimidating. Like the woman, he bore a more-than-passing resemblance to one of the Legion of the Universe characters, Deadmark. If he was an older Deadmark model, he¡¯s be strong and quick, but not too bright.
And, thus, the least likely to notice the loss of the gold bag next to his feet. He was also gold, just like Charles¡¯ Ranger. That meant Charles had no advantage over him. Not good, but nowhere near as dangerous as the Gambler¡¯s purple energy or Sneakerette¡¯s bloody backstab.
If he sneaked past the table and snagged a bag¡ª
He jumped as something hit the bar next to him with a resounding thwack. He turned to see a long, thin knife with a carved jade handle sticking out of the wood, still vibrating from the strength of the throw.
¡°Not so fast, cowboy,¡± a drawling voice said.
Chapter 5
¡°You look like you¡¯re new here,¡± A tall woman with dark hair and a green eyes leaned on the bar counter next to him. ¡°I am Madame Jade.¡±
This was another Legends of the Universe NPC. She was a powerful ninja mastermind in Legends, but her character design in this game was quite different. She was dressed in a green kimono and and an updo hairstyle held by green chopsticks that he was 100% sure would turn out to be stiletto blades. The boots and the guns at her hips were the only concession to the Western background.
Her lips curved into a vaguely threatening smile. ¡°Would you like to join in the game? Don¡¯t worry, you won¡¯t find any nasty rebels here. The Queen has no power in the Wastelands.¡±
She fiddled with the jade-handled revolver at her waist.
Queen? That must be the game storyline. Legends had something like that, A queen fighting an alien wizard of some sort. These guys must be on the wizard¡¯s side.
Charles moved the cursor over the NPCs, trying to figure out their stats. Ouch, 25% additional damage from Deadmark, 100 points in poison damage from Madame Jade and Sneakerette, and a 30% decrease on defense from The Gambler.
Odds of survival: 0.
Glowing letters appeared on his screen. Accept side quest?
Heck, no. Charles almost sprained his thumb as he hurried to press the ¡°no¡± button. No suicidal side quest. No way.
He had a different idea.
Madame Jade shrugged and returned to her game.
Charles drank his cactus juice and waited for his chance. When the Gambler finished the round and the players leaned in to pick up their winnings, Charles struck. He walked forward and hit the ¡°stealth pick¡± combination as he quickly walked out of the saloon. He snuck into the apothecary next door and checked his inventory.
Yep, the bag was there. He had one hundred gold nuggets now.
He looked around. The old man was gone. Maybe that was the end of the tutorial. If so, he was on his own now.
Like the saloon, the apothecary had a counter and a selection of bottles. He walked up and labels appeared in the air¡ªhealing potion, sleep potion, double healing elixir.
The prices were listed below the labels. Ouch, that pouch of gold would not last long.
He didn¡¯t know how much gold he¡¯d need to buy the cyborg arm, so he only bought two healing potions¡ªer, bottles of cactus juice. He could always return to the apothecary and buy more if he needed to.
Or so he hoped.
He looked out. The coast was clear, with only a few lonely tumbleweeds rolling down Main Street. With a couple of button pushes, he exited the apothecary and headed for the blacksmith¡¯s shop, glancing back at the saloon as he did so.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
It seemed quiet. The old man had not come out.
He shrugged and kept walking. The blacksmith¡¯s shop was at the end of streets. Two haphazardly-drawn horses stood in front, chasing flies away with their tails.
One of them had a saddle, which raised the question, could he ride a horse? He wished the old man were here to answer that question. So far, the game seemed pretty slow. A horse would likely speed things up.
But first, he had to get the arm.
The blacksmith¡¯s shop¡ªa wood structure with a furnace, and anvil and a ton scrap metal lying around¡ªwas unoccupied.
It was definitely, a working smithy, although not a stereotypically Western one. There was, for example, a box with two grenades in a corner, not your everyday cowboy weaponry that was for sure.
But, then again, cyborgs weren¡¯t typically Western either.
He stepped close to the grenades and they disappeared, reappearing in his inventory.
Good, his current weapon was a basic six-shooter. He could use some additional firepower. These would come in handy, particularly since he¡¯d found grenades in the smithy, but he hadn¡¯t found a cyborg arm.
He scanned the room. Tools hung on the wall and one section had posters nailed on it. Bounties were offered for the capture of various NPCs, a stagecoach company needed help fending off cyborg bandits, and a nearby town was being hounded by a shape-shifter and was offering a huge reward for getting rid of it.
He examined the posters, torn pieces of paper nailed covered with gothic lettering and nailed to wood slats. The biggest one was a sepia etching of a lady with an elaborate haired-do topped by a tiara. It announced: The Queen Lives!
More game story. He glanced at the other posters. These must be side quests. Once the player got the cyborg arm, he would be able to pick a new adventure. The shape-shifter one looked interesting. He clicked on the poster with the werewolf picture.
Ready for an adventure? Help the kind folks of Valle Escondido fight off the dreaded chupacabras and earn big rewards and eternal gratitude. Difficulty level: High.
Charles smiled. Now that was a cool adventure. However, he would need the cyborg arm to vanquish a high difficulty target. Where was it? There was a space on the wall that looked like an arm, but it was empty.
The cyborg arm silhouette, however, was still there. Had someone taken it?
Or something.
He checked the dirt floor. Yep, sure enough, there were foot prints.
Rabbit prints.
The stupid jackalopes had taken the arm. He chuckled. This was almost too silly for words. Was this game for real? He was going to have to chase rabbits to get his arm? It sounded like something out of an old Bugs Bunny cartoons.
It couldn¡¯t possibly be this way.
He walked around the smithy, turning over boxes and looking into wooden barrels. He found a Bowie knife and added it to his inventory¡ªone could never have too many knives.
But that was it. No cyborg arm.
He was going to have to go hunt rabbits. It was ludicrous. A memory popped into his head. His father reading a book about old Guatemalan legends. A story about a trickster rabbit stealing something.
He shook his head and the memory faded away. Not for the first time, he considered just quitting this game. The visuals were bizarre. The soundtrack was old-fashioned. The plot, what there was of it, was weird.
He could just take off the helmet, turn off the game, and send a nasty e-mail to the developers. They deserved it, for sure.
He walked out of the blacksmith¡¯s shop, determined to quit. Two grenades and a six-shooter were not worth all of this hassle. He¡¯d take Scales¡¯ teasing. Anything was better than this relentless tedium.
Then he saw the horse.
It was still haphazardly drawn It was swatting flies with his tail. It was also, he thought, periodically spitting at the ground.
And it was also a cyborg. The body and part of the face was that of an organic horse, but the legs and the right eye were definitely robotic.
He grinned. What would it be like to ride a robot horse?
Only one way to find out.
Chapter 6
It turned our riding a horse was easier said than done.
Riding a horse with only one arm was no joke. Riding a demon horse from robot hell with a nasty sense of humor was even worse.
Untying the beast was easy enough. Getting on the saddle was another thing altogether. He fell on his face on the first try. He fell on his butt on the second try. He was left hanging from he stirrup on the third.
And the darn animal seemed to be laughing at him. It was hard to tell because the face was so oddly drawn, but the glint on its metal eye was unmistakeable.
The horse was laughing at him.
After losing several hp in this endeavor, he gave up. He stood back and looked at the steed. It was not in very good shape. The metal was rusted, the cyborg eye was cloudy and the tail seemed to be missing its fuzzy tip. That¡¯s why it was having so much trouble swatting the flies.
Darn, it wasn¡¯t even that good of a horse. Why was he trying so hard to ride it?
Charles shook his head. ¡°I must be nuts going through so much trouble to chase a couple of rabbits across the desert.¡±
The horse¡¯s ears perked up.
Charles laughed. ¡°It¡¯s almost as if you could understand me.¡±
The horse tipped its head.
Charles stopped laughing. It couldn¡¯t understand him, could it? The horse was an NPC, just like the old man. It had a set number of responses. It must be automatically responding to something he¡¯d said.
But what had he said? He¡¯d talked about riding across the desert, trouble¡and rabbits.
¡°You want to go chase rabbits?¡± he asked.
The horse¡¯s eyes narrowed.
Yep, it was definitely the bunnies.
The horse tipped its head back and looked straight at its broken tail.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
¡°Did they steal your tail off?¡± Charles asked.
The horse nodded.
¡°They took my arm,¡± Charles said. ¡°If you agree to let me ride you, I can take you to them and we can both get our stuff back. Deal?¡±
The horse looked uncertain.
Charles swatted a fly. ¡°Think about it. You won¡¯t have to worry about insects any more.¡±
The horse looked back at its tail. Then it looked at the flies.
Then it nodded, its robot eye gleaming.
¡°Great,¡± Charles said, approaching the horse¡¯s side again.
He pressed the jump and ride combination with caution, unsure as to whether the horse would drop him on his butt again.
But it worked. His perspective changed and he found himself on top of the cyborg horse.
¡°That¡¯s more like it,¡± he said, settling into the saddle. ¡°Hey, we could make a good team.¡±
The horse snorted.
It was fantastic. He could see farther out now. He could see Main Street vanishing into the horizon. He could see the cactuses that surrounded the town. He could see the tumbleweeds receding into the distance.
¡°Don¡¯t knock it,¡± he replied. I should give you a name. How about Silver?¡±
Another snort. The horse shuddered, as if threatening to shake him off.
Charles took back every single bad thing he¡¯d said about the game. This interaction was pretty sophisticated. It was almost as if the horse really were communicating.
¡°Okay, fine, how do you feel about Diablo?¡±
That was the name of the horse in the original Ranger video game, the one that had been discontinued decades ago. It probably wouldn¡¯t be recognized by this game, but¡ª
The horse whinnied.
It liked the name. How odd.
But maybe not so odd? This game seemed to be a mix of old Cinco Computing art and concepts. Maybe it made sense.
But that was enough thinking.
He looked out and, there, beyond the cactuses, he could see the jackalopes. They jumped and disappeared into the sand.
¡°There they are,¡± he shouted. ¡°Behind the cactuses, Let¡¯s go.¡±
Diablo reared, the front legs lifting off the ground. Then he leaped and took off at top speed.
It was exhilarating. The buildings zoomed by and then there was just desert and tumbleweeds. Diablo wove through the cactuses like the demon he was named for, the sharp spikes coming perilously close to Charles¡¯ skin.
¡°Whoa, be careful,¡± Charles exclaimed.
The horse paid no attention, racing through the plants without a care. In a couple of seconds, they found themselves on top of hill looking down at a canyon.
That¡¯s what he¡¯d seen the jackalopes had been headed down the canyon. There was a small path. It was big enough for him, but far too steep for a horse.
¡°I don¡¯t suppose you have rockets?¡± he asked Diablo.
The horse shook his head.
¡°Looks like this is the end of it for you, then¡± Charles said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, a deal¡¯s a deal. I¡¯ll get your tail back.¡±
The horse looked skeptical, but he let Charles climb down without a mishap. This part of the gamescape was rockier than the town and he had to jump down a few boulders to reach the path.
When he reached it, he found a sign¡ªa calavera with a beak shape¡ªetched in one of the rocks.
Virus.
Chapter 7
There was no message from the weird Virus guy, and no sign of Scales or anyone else, just the lonely symbol carved in a rock.
If this was a prank, it was an extremely drawn out and annoying one.
He shrugged and climbed down the hill as quietly as possible. He could race down, but he wasn¡¯t sure what kind of a foe he was facing. Presumably this wouldn¡¯t be a strength challenge. He probably had to sneak up on¡ª
The ground crumbled under him and he scrambled onto a nearby ledge. Rocks and dirt flew around him.When he looked down, he saw a deep crevice where his feet had been.
All right. It was also an agility challenge.
He jumped onto the next ledge, half-expecting it to give way. It didn¡¯t and he leaped onto the next one.
The rock broke off and slid down the hill. He was almost thrown off, but he manacled to regain his balance and hang on. After a nerve-wracking second, he found himself surfing down the rocky slope.
He used the controls to guide his rock down the hill. A too-slow response meant that his rock smashed into a nearby boulder or a cactus, incurring damage. A too-strong response meant that he leapt out of the path and had to find his way back.
The ride was bumpy, but exhilarating. He had to hand it to the designers. He¡¯d been in surfing simulations that weren¡¯t this much fun. A particularly close shave against a razor sharp saguaro took his breath away, and by the time he successfully maneuvered his slab onto the bottom of the hill he was out of breath and down a couple of HP.
He was also out of jackalopes. His gun was out and he was ready to fight, but there was no one there.
The rabbits had scurried away. All that he could see were the shadows of their horns, hiding between the rocks. Funny, it seemed the horns were mechanical parts, not organic.
He¡¯d been following cyborg jackalopes. Figures.
But the rabbits had left something behind. The treasure he sought was half-hidden behind a rock, the metal covering gleaming in the sunlight.
It was his avatar¡¯s cyborg arm.
He was excited, but disappointed. This hadn¡¯t been as hard as he¡¯d expected. The rock surfing had been fun, but the jackalopes hadn¡¯t put up much of a fight. Was this the best the game could do? So far, he¡¯d acquired a bag of gold, multiple healing potions¡ªhe refused to call them cactus juice anymore¡ªand now a robot arm. Hopefully, this was just a super-easy tutorial. This game wouldn¡¯t be that much fun if it turned into a monty haul.
That¡¯s when his screen turned red.
He¡¯d just taken a hit from the back. A big one.
He ducked behind a boulder and assessed the damage. It hadn¡¯t been a kill shot, but it had wiped most of his HP. He quickly consumed his two healing potions.
He winced as a rock blew up next to him, shards of stone flying everywhere. Then another. Whoever was shooting at him had a lot of firepower.
This tutorial wasn¡¯t as easy as he¡¯d though. He had to take out his attacker pronto or he¡¯d be toast, but all he had was a revolver and a couple of grenades. Both seemed puny next to his opponent¡¯s pulverizing weaponry. This was going to get interesting.
He glanced around the rock, tying to identify his enemy. All he saw was rocks. Big rocks, small rocks¡ª
And a very large figure in a brown duster coat and a cowboy hat dodging between them.
It was Deadmark, the gambler he¡¯d stolen the gold from, and he had a shotgun, a very large shotgun.
He turned to scan the ravine, and Charles noticed a large symbol etched on the back of his leather coat. It was the same crow calavera symbol he¡¯d seen on the rock. Was this the Virus guy?The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
But he didn¡¯t have time to figure it out. Deadmark stepped forward and words appeared in front him.
¡°You think you can take my gold and take it to your Queen?¡± Deadmark snarled. ¡°You picked the wrong victim, rebel.¡±
Then he aimed and shot a nearby boulder. The rock was immediately pulverized.
Whoa. Another hit from that baby and Charles would be jackalope kibble. Well, they probably vegetarians, but something like that. His crappy six-shooter revolver was no match for that shotgun. With the cyborg arm, he might have had a chance, but his limb replacement was lying on the sand a couple of feet away.
He was trying to come up with a plan¡ªmaybe use the grenades¡ª when a message came through the game¡¯s com system.
Username Virus: If you know what¡¯s good for you, quit now. You are not supposed to be here.
He frowned. Who the hell was Virus?
And why was he asking Charles to quit? After what felt like an eternity walking through the desert and chasing mutant bunnies, the game was finally starting to get good. Sure, his situation seemed dire, but he wasn¡¯t quitting now.
Also, he wanted that arm. The Legions of the Universe Ranger had a machine gun embedded in the arm, a laser, and even an expandable chainsaw. That was super cool. Did this Ranger have a similar feature? That was worth exploring.
Deadmark blew up another rock. The vibration reverberated around the valley. That was a pretty cool trick.
And, speaking of tricks, he would not be able to shoot his way out of this with his gun, but the grenades had possibilities. If he distracted Deadmark with some explosions, he may be able to reach the arm, hide behind the one surviving boulder, and use the arm¡¯s weaponry to finish the baddie off.
¡°No one steals my gold,¡± Deadmark shouted.
Another rock blew up to Charles¡¯ left. He was rapidly running out of options.
It was time to act.
He launched a grenade, and sprinted toward the cyborg arm with his gun drawn. Deadmark took some grenade damage, but still managed to raise his shotgun. Dreading another hit, Charles launched another grenade.
Explosions rang out. Charles got two shots off his gun and then reached the arm.
Then screen went dark.
Charles cursed under his breath. Had Deadmark killed him?
Glowing letters appeared. Do you wish to acquire the DeathShot 7500 limb replacement system, Pak-Man?
What the heck? Of course he wanted the arm. He was going to be jackalope chow without it.
He frantically pressed the pick-up-treasure button combination, trying to get his hands on the arm as quickly as possible. After an impossibly long period of time, the letters changed.
DeathShot 7500 acquired. Thanks for joining the game.
Good gravy, this game was messed. Why was it making such a big deal out of this? He¡¯d stolen a bag full of gold with a heck of a lot less drama than this.
Finally, the game arena returned. The cyborg arm appeared on his avatar, all shiny metal and flashing lights. He raised it and aimed it at Deadmark.
But he was too late. The shotgun was aimed straight at him.
He stared helplessly as Deadmark pulled the trigger and the world dissolved in darkness.
Everything was black.
Wait, not red. Black.
But red was the color of death. Black was¡ª
Charles pressed the buttons that activated the cyborg arm. He didn¡¯t know why, but he was pretty sure that he now had a chance.
The black faded aways slowly. It was a cloud of some kind. When it dissipated, it revealed Deadmark¡¯s prone body on the sandy ground. The villain vanished slowly, leaving behind a bag of gold.
He got up to grab the gold, but he wasn¡¯t fast enough. The bag disappeared before he could reach it.
¡°Payment for services rendered,¡± a saucy female voice said.
He turned to find a pirate figure dressed in a corset vest, a flowing skirt, and high-heeled leather boots. The costume was not very appropriate for fighting, but that was probably fine for this character. Tekaneer was a hacker and a sniper. She didn¡¯t do much hand to hand fighting, even though a mean-looking cutlass hung from her hip.
But the cutlass was her weapon of last resort. Tekaneer¡¯s primary weapon was the blunderbuss in her hand, with that she could hack an enemy and make their weapons and other equipment malfunction.
That was likely what had just happened. This Tekaneer had hacked Deadmark¡¯s shotgun, creating a cloud of black and letting Charles bring down his enemy.
Was this another NPC? If so, was it friend or enemy? Would she attack him now that Deadmark was neutralized?
Tekaneer¡¯s eyes narrowed. Oddly enough, she didn¡¯t seem to have Tekaneer¡¯s cyborg eye. The equivalent to Ranger¡¯s cyborg arm, the eye allowed Tekaneer to discern weaknesses and strength in other characters and pitfall and opportunities in the gaming environment. Without the eye, this Tekaneer was compromised.
But that didn¡¯t make her blunderbuss any less deadly.
Charles raised his cyborg arm. His arm was precisely the kind of item that Tekaneer could hack, but if he hit her before she recharged her blunderbuss¡ª
¡°Oh, please,¡± The Tekaneer rolled her eyes. ¡°I have a recharge pack, you idiot.¡±
She pressed the trigger and electrical charges crawled over Charles¡¯ cyborg arm. He groaned as his hp count plummeted.
The hack would leave him helpless for several seconds. Plenty of time for Tekaneer to kill him off.
Charles tensed, as the pirate stepped in for the kill.
Then a message came over his com system.
Username @BucARoo: How did you get here, Charles?
Chapter 8
Wait, the Tekaneer wasn¡¯t an NPC? And it knew his name? Who could possible know his¡ª
Username @Pak-Man: Grace is that you?
He couldn¡¯t quite believe it. Grace¡¯s handle was @TheAmzingG. Why was she calling herself @BukARoo?
Username @BucARoo: Yes, it¡¯s me. Can¡¯t you tell?
Username @Pak-Man: No, your name is coming through as @BukARoo.
Username @BukARoo: Oh, for Pete¡¯s sake, really? That¡¯s an old login name. Let me fix that.
A couple of seconds passed. Charles hoped his avatar¡¯s impassive facade hid his relief. He was overjoyed to find Grace. It meant he wasn¡¯t alone in this strange world.
Username @TheAmzingG: Is it fixed?
Username @Pak-Man: Yes. What is going on, Grace? What is this place? And what do you mean by how did I get here? I got here the same way you did.
Username @TheAmzingG: *laughing emoji* I very much doubt that.
Username @Pak-Man: Are you the Virus person too?
Username @The AmzingG: No, who is Virus? Oh, man, we need to talk. Hold on, there should be a way of doing this in the game. Try calling up the play mode menu and picking ¡°game comm.¡±
Charles called up the play mode menu, and, sure enough, there was a ¡°game comm¡± command. How had he missed that when he first checked the menus? It would have saved him a lot of trouble.
¡°Does it work?¡± Grace¡¯s avatar asked in the game.
¡°I think so,¡± he replied.
¡°Yes, it does,¡± Grace said, a broad smile crossing the avatar¡¯s face. Then she glanced down at his cyborg arm and frowned.
¡°I see you got that,¡± she said, in a curiously expressionless voice.
¡°Yes.¡± He raised the arm and the sunlight made it gleam like gold. ¡°Isn¡¯t it sweet?¡±
Grace didn¡¯t answer. That¡¯s when he remembered that she didn¡¯t have Tekaneer¡¯s cyborg eye. And that wasn¡¯t the only thing that was missing. He glanced back at Diablo¡¯s rump. His horse¡¯s tail was still gone. The jackalopes had taken it, so it should be around here somewhere.
¡°Didn¡¯t you go through the tutorial?¡± he asked, looking around for a flail-like attachment. ¡°I got this old man called Win Chester and he told me where to find my arm.¡±
He squinted at a tumbleweed. There seemed to be something glinting under the thorny brambles. Was it¡ªyes, it was.
Grace rolled her eyes. ¡°Oh, I went through mine. His name was B. Lunder Buss, like my gun, and he told me if I raided a nearby medical ship, I could steal the eye. Then the parrots took if from me and led me on a merry chase. I still got it though.¡±
Raided? Oh, that sounded like fun. Tekaneer¡¯s homeworld must be a huge upgrade over the squalor of Scorch Gulch. ¡°You started in Islands of Terror?¡±
He walked toward the tumbleweed, reached out, and extracted was looked like a thin, flexible broom with a plug at the end. Diablo whinnied with glee.
She nodded. ¡°It¡¯s full of pirates and ships and krakens. That¡¯s where I found him.¡±
She looked up and put her fingers to her lips. A loud whistle pierced the air.
Charles followed her gaze, a black dot was circling above them, getting closer and closer. It turned into a dark bird¡ªthe plumage of a raven, but the body of a parrot¡ªwhich landed softly on Grace¡¯s shoulder.
¡°This is Polly,¡± she said, smiling at the bird fondly.
The bird¡¯s head turned and its purple eyes opened and closed rhythmically. That¡¯s when Charles realized that the feather and claws were metal.
The bird was a robot.
Charles raised a brow. Grace had not gone after the cyborg eye, but had captured herself a parrot, instead? That was questionable judgement. He¡¯d always thought Grace was a fantastic player¡ªone of the best he knew, but now he wondered.
She seemed to sense his disapproval. ¡°Hey, you kept the horse. I saw him when I arrived.¡±
¡°That is a mode of transportation. This is a pet.¡±
¡°Polly is a scout,¡± Grace said, extending her hand. ¡°She finds things out for me, and she has a nifty shield function. Can your equine friend block laser blasts? I don¡¯t think so.¡±
A cracker appeared in mid-air. She caught it with a smooth motion and fed it to the robot parrot. The robot pet guzzled them gleefully.
Charles walked over to his horse and fit the whip tail back on, felling as if he had definitely lucked out in the sidekick area. Diablo tussled his hair and Charles responded by patting his neck. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
¡°Good,¡± he replied. ¡°Can your bird find out what¡¯s going on? What is this game?¡±
His question was greeted by silence. The silence stretched and stretched, until Grace finally shrugged.
¡°It¡¯s an older version of Legends of the Universe,¡± she replied. ¡°A very old version.¡±
Well, duh. He had figured that out all by himself. ¡°How is it still working?¡±
Tekaneer¡¯s face hardened. ¡°Unclear. They gave up on it years ago because a contractor sabotaged it or stole the code or something five years ago. I think they may be trying to bring it back.¡±
The prospect seemed to worry her, but why¡ªCharles froze. Sabotage? Five years ago?
He didn¡¯t have to do the math for that. The numbers were imprinted in his head.
¡°Who sabotaged the game?¡± he asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
Another silence.
Grace shrugged. ¡°Who cares? The point is that you are not supposed to be here. ¡±
That¡¯s what the Virus guy had said that too. Charles looked around. Same weird graphics. Same odd cacti. Same sun, only slightly lower in the sky.
Only the sand was different. There was now a pixelated discoloration where Deadmark¡¯s body had lain. It was likely a glitch in the old program, but it felt eerie and faintly menacing.
¡°No kidding,¡± he said. ¡°Are you?¡±
That was a rhetorical question, but it resulted in another long silence.
¡°Yes, I want¡ªI need to play this game.¡± Grace shook her head. ¡°But I have no idea why you got sucked in. You should quit the game and reboot. Maybe then you can get back into Legends.¡±
Wait, he could be playing the most sophisticated gaming platform in existence and she chose this? That was weird. Some people, like Scales, were into retro and creepy stuff and would go out of their way to pick a game like this, but Grace Chamorro wasn¡¯t one of those people.
Grace was into the popular stuff that hat tons of purchasable skins and accessories. If it was new and it cost a lot of money to play, then Grace would be on it like white on rice. This wasn¡¯t her kind of game at all.
¡°Um, are you sure about this?¡± he asked Grace.
She was eyeing his cyborg arm, frowning. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.
¡°Yes,¡± she finally said. ¡°I have something I need to do. But you should go, or at least try to. Thanks for the gold.¡±
And with that she leaped onto a rock and started climbing up the slope, the skirt floating around her slender form.
Charles stood still, rooted to the spot.
That was it? She just left? Questions swirled in his head. What was this game? How had she known about it? What was it that she had to do? Who was the Virus player?
He stared at the silhouette grafted in the sand. The outline was starting to fade, but he could see traces of the calavera mark on its back.
Alejandro Pakito had disappeared after what had been described as an act of corporate sabotage on a game he had been working on. The police, his family, and his betrayed employer, Cinco Gaming, had searched for him in vain.
This was the game. It had to be.
And it was still around.
You don¡¯t belong here.
Everyone seemed to agree about that. He glanced back at the discoloration. It was still there, a somewhat sinister detail in the landscape. For some reason, it made him shiver.
Sure, he could log out, reboot, and then try to enter Legends. That¡¯s what made sense.
But he didn¡¯t want to leave Scales, or even irritating know-it-all Grace, alone in the game. No way.
¡°Wait,¡± he shouted, following Grace up the slope.
Luckily, Ranger had more speed and stamina than Tekaneer, and he caught up with Grace at the top of the slope. Diablo greeted him with a neigh.
His horse seemed to have made a friend. Grace, it seemed had also found herself a mount¡ªa black steed with a cyborg eye similar to her character¡¯s.
¡°I¡¯m not leaving,¡± he said. ¡° I want to play this through.¡±
Grace made a face. ¡°Why? The other game is much better.¡±
Really? Then why aren¡¯t you playing it? Why are you here?
He left the question unasked. After all, he was going to play it too, and he definitely didn¡¯t want Grace inquiring why.
¡°I like this one,¡± he answered.
That made her laugh, a sharp sound with a dull bitter edge to it, like stale sour candies. ¡°No one likes this one.¡±
He couldn¡¯t argue with her about that.
¡°When why are you here?¡± he finally asked.
¡°I told you.¡± She grabbed her horse¡¯s reins. ¡°I have something to do.¡±
And she clearly wasn¡¯t going to tell him why.
You don¡¯t belong here.
Virus¡¯ words¡ªand Grace¡¯s¡ªechoed in his head. But he disagreed.
¡°Fine,¡± he said. ¡°Then you may need some help.¡±
She laughed even harder. ¡°Really, cowboy? I was the one who rescued you. Have you already forgotten?¡± She mounted her horse. ¡°Go home, Charles, or at least try to.¡±
¡°No,¡± he said stubbornly. ¡°I have something to do too. I need to find Scales.¡±
Her head jerked up. ¡°Scales? He¡¯s here too?¡±
Her eyes widened in dismay. Charles recalled the faint voice he¡¯d heard when he¡¯d first entered the game. Something¡¯s wrong¡
¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°And I need to find him.¡±
Grace grew quiet. She sat on her saddle, staring down at the pommel.
¡°I¡¯m looking for someone too,¡± she whispered.
Charles¡¯ heart leapt. ¡°Well, we have something in common, then.¡±
She smiled, but it came out as a bitter grimace. ¡°No, we don¡¯t.¡± She paused and glanced down at his arm. ¡°At least, I hope we don¡¯t.¡±
The expression was gone in a flash, but the ghost of it remained. It didn¡¯t look like a video game expression.
It looked almost human, a very odd occurrence indeed, given how stylized the art was in this game.
¡°How did you guys get in here, anyway?¡± she asked.
Charles made a face. ¡°The same way you did. We got the code.¡±
Her brows furrowed in puzzlement. ¡°What code?¡±
¡°What do you mean? Scales gave it to me and I assumed he got it from you.¡±
Her eyes widened. ¡°He did not get any code from me. How¡ª?¡±
She broke off and glanced down at his arm.
¡°But it¡¯s probably too late anyway.¡± She pulled on her horse¡¯s reins. ¡°And you¡¯re right. You can help me.¡± She pressed her knees on the horse¡¯s flanks and he horse stepped back. ¡°And I can help you.¡±
The last words were faint and he wasn¡¯t even sure he¡¯d heard them correctly. Help him with what?
Charles grabbed Diablo¡¯s reins and mounted. By the time he was done, Grace was already heading down the road.
¡°Wait,¡± he shouted. ¡°Were are we going?¡±
Grace looked back, but she didn¡¯t slow down.
¡°We are going to rob a train,¡± she shouted. ¡°C¡¯mon, it will be fun.¡±
And then she raced away, a pixelated cloud of dust floating behind her.
Charles sat on his horse, staring at the dust clouds. This was why he liked gaming alone, or with Scales, who didn¡¯t run off, expecting him to follow, or ran off and immediately got into trouble he had to be saved from. He could just go his own way and find Scales.
But Grace seemed to know a lot about this game. She even knew about the sabotage.
And robbing a train did sound like fun.
¡°Lets go, Diablo,¡± he said, digging his spurs into the horse¡¯s flanks. ¡°Follow her.¡±
Chapter 9
The horse made a huge difference. Charles no longer had to walk and walk through mindnumpingly boring terrain. Now he raced through it on Diablo¡¯s back with a Magnificent Seven knock-off soundtrack playing in the background. It was exhilarating, if a little cheesy.
They passed several intriguing locales. There was an abandoned mine that looked like it might contain treasure. After that they saw a pioneer caravan, also a possible source of treasure and information. A group of horsemen in the horizon seemed threatening, but they soon outran them and they vanished in a cloud of dust.
In a normal game, Charles would have explores all of these side-quests¡ªthe mine, in particular, was very tempting. Grace, however, seemed set on getting to that train.
They got there in a couple of minutes. At least he assumed this was the place. As far as he could tell it was just a flat, sandy plain identical to the rest of the landscape.
Grace stopped and got off her horse. ¡°This is as far as we can go with the horses. We¡¯ll have to do the rest on foot.¡±
Charles¡¯ heart sank. He didn¡¯t want to leave Diablo behind. The horse, however, would not be able to climb on the train. He hadn¡¯t thought of that.
¡°Why does it have to be the train?¡± he asked. ¡°Why not try one of the other adventures. That mine, for example, looked cool. It could have treasure, or maybe even monsters.¡± He glanced back. ¡°There¡¯s a chupacabras out there somewhere.¡±
A monster would be perfect right around now. He could use a good fight after all that galloping. The jackalopes, he supposed, were technically monsters, but he didn¡¯t feel like they counted. They were just overgrown rabbits with robot antlers.
¡°What we are looking for is not in the mine.¡± Grace replied.
Charles frowned. ¡°How would you know? It could be there. We haven¡¯t looked¡ª¡°
Grace sighed ¡°You just want to keep the horse, don¡¯t you?¡±
Charles glanced back at Diablo. The horse whinnied, looking at him with woebegone eyes.
¡°Just take him with you,¡± Grace said.
She put up her hand and her avatar¡¯s face went blank for a second. A smooth black stone shaped like a horse appeared on her hand.
¡°Return,¡± she said.
And the black horse disappeared. The blank expression returned to her face and then the stone disappeared as well.
¡°They are just minions,¡± she said, her face returning to normal. ¡±Go to your inventory and find the amulet and they¡¯ll return to it. Then you can take them anywhere.¡±
Charles checked his inventory and found a shiny, horse-shaped stone. He clicked on it.
Diablo whinnied and then disappeared.
¡°There,¡± Grace said. ¡°Happy now?¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
He was, but he didn¡¯t want to admit it. ¡°The mine could still be worth it.¡±
¡°I¡¯ve looked,¡± Grace said. ¡°It¡¯s just bags of gold and boxes of dynamite.¡±
Charles laughed. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with dynamite¡ª¡° Realization dawned. ¡°Wait, you¡¯ve been there? You¡¯ve played this before?¡±
Grace sighed. ¡°Many times.¡¯
That explained why she knew so much about the game. ¡°I guess you must really like it.¡±
Grace grimaced. ¡°No, I dislike this game intensely. I just have to play it.¡±
¡°Why?¡± he asked.
¡°I just haven¡¯t finished it,¡± Grace replied. ¡°And to finish it, I have to find the Wastelands Power Weapon.¡±
Power Weapon? Charles perked up at the sound of that word.
¡°What kind of firepower are we talking about?¡± he asked.
¡°There¡¯s one for each world,¡± Grace said, instantly launching into trademark Grace Chamorro Lecture Mode. ¡°Each one is super powerful and enables a player to defeat the final bosses of the game. Without the special weapons you have no chance to win. Oh, and you need all of them, not just one. There are five levels at the end, and each level will require one of the Power Weapons.¡±
Too bad Scales wasn¡¯t here. He would be thrilled to bits to learn that this game had something called a Power Weapon. Heck, not just something, five somethings.
¡°That¡¯s fantastic,¡± he said. ¡°There was nothing like this in Legends of the Universe. They must have taken it out.¡±
¡°Yes,¡± Grace muttered. ¡°For a reason.¡±
¡°So, it¡¯s very hard?¡± Charles asked, thrilled to tackle a challenge.
¡°That¡¯s part of it.¡±
¡°And there¡¯s one for each world? Did you already get the Islands of Terror one?¡±
¡°No,¡± Grace said, her face falling. ¡°I¡¯m not leveled-up enough yet. That¡¯s why I came here to accumulate some XP. This is the easiest level.¡±
¡°It is?¡± Charles asked, aghast. He¡¯d almost failed the easiest level? Ugh.
Grace grinned. ¡°But I got something even better than the power weapon.¡±
Now that sounded interesting.
¡°Can I see it?¡± he asked. ¡°What does it do? How did you get it?¡±
She pointed to the sky.
A metallic figure flew toward them, its black feathers gleaming in the sun. It was the mechanical parrot. It circled around Grace a couple of times then landed gracefully on her shoulder. The gold head turned around with a clicking sound and the bulging metal eyes stared into Charles¡¯ eyes. The whole effect was both eerie and silly.
Charles shoulders slumped. This was the Islands of Terror super weapon? A cute little robot bird that looked like a prop from a failed Clash of the Titans and Pirates of the Caribbean crossover?
Grace doubled over in laughter. ¡°You should see your face right now. You look absolutely horrified. Poor Polly is not the super weapon, and she is not so bad. Actually, I¡¯m lucky I found her in that deserted rock. She comes in handy when scouting and she is a stellar thief.¡±
¡°Handy,¡± Polly said, her purple eyes glinting. ¡°Come in handy.¡±
¡°So what¡¯s the next weapon?¡± he asked. ¡°The titanium Colt .45s that Ranger has in Heroes of the Universe?¡±
That would be a disappointment, given that he already had a Colt. Presumably it would pack more of a punch.
¡°No,¡± Grace said. ¡°They have a shotgun instead.¡±
¡°That¡¯s even better,¡± Charles said, barely able to contain his excitement. He¡¯d been expecting a better version of his current revolver. A shotgun would be a huge improvement, particularly if it was an 1878 or 1883 Colt, which seemed likely.
The developers got his revolver right, so they would probably get the shotgun right too. The game looked rustic and unfinished, but it had killer research behind it.
¡°How do we get it?¡± he asked.
A mischievous smile crossed Grace¡¯s face. ¡°I told you. We rob the train.¡±
¡°Rob the train,¡± Polly said. ¡°Rob the train.¡±
Charles looked around. All he could see was sand, rocks, and a few cacti here and there. There were no tracks, no station, and no sign of a train anywhere.
¡°The weapons will be in the engine of the train,¡± Grace continued. ¡°We climb on it, grab the pistols, then¡ª¡°
¡°Climb on what?¡± Charles exclaimed, gesturing towards the golden emptiness around them. ¡°There¡¯s nothing¡ª¡°
That¡¯s when he heard it¡ªa sound rumbling sound that made the ground shake under his feet. He looked down. There, below the cliff they were standing on, the sand was shimmering.
The grains glowed and quivered. The rumbling grew louder.
And a train whistle rent the air.
Grace grinned. ¡°Here it comes.¡±