Apocalypse game, p.11
Apocalypse Game, page 11
“It’ll do.”
“Good, because there’s nothing else I can offer you.” he said, taking off his helmet.
Finn was younger than I expected, early twenties or so. He towered over me, probably at least three inches taller than I was, but he was built lean. He had short black hair cropped to his scalp on the sides with just a little on top, which paired well with his chestnut skin and handsome face.
The only thing that marred his face was a deep scar on the side of his mouth that turned part of his lip up into a permanent half-smirk.
He smiled at Adeline, his dark eyes lighting up with humor as he held out a hand. “Name’s Finn, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Finn. I’m Killian, and this is─”
“Adeline,” she said tersely, her finger resting dangerously close to her trigger.
She stared at his proffered hand until it became awkward, and he let it drop.
“Right. No hard feelings. Trust is a hard-to-find commodity these days. As I said, you two can take what you want from my squad.”
I turned to Adeline. “You want me─”
“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Gotcha.”
I left Adeline to handle Corporal Pretty Boy and went to loot the dead.
The practice, while macabre and gruesome, was necessary.
Despite the cool air, the blood had begun to dry under the beating sun overhead and stuck to my boots with every step, squelching. Bile rose in my throat at the sticky sound.
The stench of death hung in the air and only intensified as I got closer to the carnage. I breathed through my mouth and pried as much ammo from the dead as I could. Most of it was 5.56 rounds, which I could use in my rifle. But numerous weapons were lying discarded among the dead—all sleek and menacing.
The biggest was a massive machine gun, a belt of rifle cartridges snaking from its side. I bent to pick it up and grunted slightly. It was heavier than I expected, probably more than twenty pounds.
Weapon: M240 Bravo
The prized possession of the previous owner. He’s shouting obscenities at you this very second for daring to put your grubby hands on it.
Heavy. Too heavy for those noodles you call arms. Carrying this has a high likelihood of developing chronic back pain. Also, you just figured out how to handle a semi-automatic rifle. Learn to crawl before you wield high-powered machine guns.
Damage: 80-100 (Ballistic)
Ammo: 50 7.62×51mm NATO Rounds
Condition: Well-Kept (27% Firearm Failure, +10% Damage)
What’s up with the different failure rates? Most of the guns I own have a Well-Kept status, yet they all have different failure percentages.
Is it because this is a machine gun? And the rate of fire could cause a jam or something?
Laughter sounded from behind me, and I turned as Finn leaned against the hood of the car. His eyes met mine and lit up. “I’d leave Rickey’s Bravo alone unless you want him haunting your ass. He loved it more than his own life.” Finn paused. “But seriously, I wouldn’t carry it if I were you, heavy as sin, and eats through ammo like no one’s business.”
He stopped, lost in thought. “Guess I don’t need to carry these anymore,” he said as he pulled a large pouch from his heavy vest and tossed it aside. “I’d go for one of the carbines. From your Daniel, I’d say they’re more your speed.”
I knelt and left the giant gun where I’d found it.
He’s right, and so is the sarcastic description. Carrying that would probably mess up my back something fierce. But having one of the other rifles wouldn’t hurt anything.
I think all of these are fully automatic, not to mention the waste of ammo. I’m nowhere near a good enough shot to handle one right now.
Though there’s plenty of ammo and no way can I carry it all. Might be as good a time as any to practice.
I picked one up that looked like a modern version of the Vietnam-era M16.
Weapon: M4A1
Ah. A much better choice. The previous owner is only looking at you with mild disdain. Chambered for the same ammunition as your other rifle but can be switched from semi-automatic to full auto. Suitable for those moments when the only thing that can save your ass is a hail of lead and a prayer.
Damage: 40-50 (Ballistic)
Ammo: 30 5.56x45mm NATO Rounds
Condition: Well-Kept (14% Firearm Failure, +10% Damage)
It boasted a shorter barrel than my rifle and was far better decked out. Several attachments stuck out to me. It had a similar red dot sight to my Daniel but also had a vertical foregrip bolted under the barrel.
Even just picking it up, it was easier to maneuver than my current rifle.
It also had a silencer attached, which I grinned at.
I felt like a badass holding the weapon.
Since it had the same ammo as my rifle, I took it, promising to practice with it when I was done looting.
Finn had turned back to Adeline, who had thawed by a few degrees to the soldier, and they were discussing something that I couldn’t make out.
Why is it she gets to chitchat while I’m stuck pilfering the dead for their valuables…oh right, I volunteered, that’s why.
I stepped carefully over the mess of corpses and stopped a couple dozen feet away, where I only picked up the general whisper of their conversations.
Let her talk. I need to see about my Mantle.
Character Page
Name: Killian Dunn
Race: Human
Class: Demon Lord (King)
Health: 287/300 (330)
Level: 3
Exp: 12/371
15 Stat Points Available!
I added my new points to Strength, Constitution, and Wisdom. Five apiece.
Though I had no idea how my stats were looking since I was only level three, or how high they went or what the level cap was.
The Soul of the Demon Lord has tiers at the twenty-five, fifty, seventy-five, and one hundred levels. So that stands to reason one hundred is the level cap. But that still doesn’t tell me what the stat cap is.
Stat Page
Strength: 20
Constitution: 15
Perception: 0
Endurance: 0
Agility: 0
Wisdom: 15
Charisma: 0
As I checked my Mantle once more, I noticed the health bar had increased by fifty points, putting my health at three-fifty, which was boosted by the Well-Fed bonus to three eighty-five.
Nearly four hundred health seems respectable. Though, I don’t like zeros on the board. I’ll need to bring the other stats up soon.
While Adeline conversed with Finn, I had nothing better to do, so I dropped my bags and tried out my new gun. I aimed at one of the few non-busted streetlights overhead and fired.
Three blasts shook my arm with a single depression of the trigger and shattered the glass casing over the bulb. I was surprised. The gunfire was louder than I expected, given the silencer. It did a lot to mask the noise but was still clearly an audible gunshot.
So, movies and video games lied to me about how silencers work. That’s disheartening.
I lowered the gun and flipped the safety. It had a selector on the receiver to toggle between semi-automatic, burst, and fully automatic. I flicked it on semi and walked back to Adeline.
Finn nodded with approval at the gun in my hand. “That’s Jared’s M4. You have good taste.”
“I was surprised by how noisy it was, even with the silencer.”
Finn laughed loudly. “That’s because silencers don’t exist. They’re called suppressors, and unless you’re using a specific type of ammo, they only reduce the noise of gunshots by a marginal degree.”
“Then what’s the point?” I asked, looking down at the gun.
“So you don’t go deaf when you shoot without wearing ear protection,” he said, tapping his ear. He smiled when he dropped his hand and held it out to me. “Your name was Killian, right? It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” I said, shaking his hand.
When we let go, I turned to Adeline. “We’d better get off the street. I don’t like how out in the open we are.”
“Good point,” she said, grabbing her gear by her feet.
“It was good to meet you, Finn,” I said and turned away.
“Hold up, Killian. If you don’t mind, I’d like to propose a temporary alliance. One man alone in this city isn’t the kind of daring adventure I signed on for.”
“Hmm,” I rubbed my chin.
It’s not that I don’t trust Finn, but I don’t trust him. He’s got too much poise for the apocalypse. Or maybe I’m just jealous of his good looks.
Still, it’s not just my call on this one. Adeline deserves a say as well.
“Adeline, what do you think?“
“I don’t know. I mean, another set of eyes wouldn’t hurt, as long as we don’t get stabbed in the back.”
Finn chuckled and held up his hands. “I don’t have the patience for deceit. Too many lies to keep track of, and it just makes my head hurt. Though neither of you have any way of believing me.”
Adeline shrugged. “Let him come. He starts acting sus, I say we shoot him.”
“Is that your response to everything?” I thumbed back to Adeline. “Don’t mind her. She’s kind of nice when she’s not acting like a psychopath.”
Adeline chucked a piece of loose concrete at the back of my head.
“Ow! Jesus, Ade. That freaking hurt,” I said, rubbing the back of my head.
“Serves you right,” she said, jogging to catch up with me as we hopped onto the sidewalk and took a side alley in between a hardware store and a clothing store. She turned and glanced at me, narrowing her eyes. “Wait, did you just call me Ade?”
“Seems easier than Adeline. What, don’t like it?”
“It’s not that,” she mumbled. “I’ve just never had a nickname before.”
I smiled. “Well, now you do.”
“Thanks, Kill.”
I cringed. “I appreciate the sentiment, but please, not that.”
“You don’t like it?”
“Not since kindergarten. It makes me sound like a wannabe goth vampire…or a Demon Lord.”
She laughed. “Yeah, definitely wouldn’t want to make you sound like the Demon Lord. How awful would that be?”
I giggled alongside her, and we exited the alley, snickering our asses off while Finn stared at both of us with a confused expression playing across his face.
The street we exited onto was less run-down than most we’d come across—only a few broken doors and not one busted window. Even the cars on the street were intact, nestled in their parking spots. It was a pleasant change of pace from the turmoil we’d just come from.
The three of us stopped for a moment and walked into an abandoned Starbucks across the road. The door was open, but I guess people had more important things to do during the apocalypse than steal coffee, so it was mostly unlooted.
As I pushed the door open, I was greeted with the strong scent of roasted beans that had sunk into every piece of furniture and the walls themselves. It was a wonderful, familiar scent, and I basked in the normalcy of it for just a moment.
“Ooh. I love their coffee,” Adeline said, taking a deep breath.
I snorted as I went behind the counter and was delighted to find that everything still worked.
The power is still working, but how long can that last? Sooner or later, something will break down, and with no one to fix it, that’ll be it.
Best enjoy it while we can.
“Eh. They actually make terrible coffee. It’s always burnt,” I said. “And they never bother to care enough because it’s a coffee shop that doesn’t actually sell coffee.”
Finn laughed. “Uh-oh. Looks like you touched a nerve, Adeline.” He glanced at me with humor in his eyes. “So what do they sell, if not coffee?”
I scoffed. “They sell mocha-frappe-crappuccinos to gullible white girls who say they love coffee, but in reality, all they really like is sugar and milk. And despite that, they’ll bend over backwards, insisting that it’s coffee so they don’t have to admit to themselves that they’re actually drinking a milkshake at eight o’clock in the morning.”
Adeline laughed. “Hey, what can I say? They’re addictive.”
“So is cocaine.” I smiled. “Now. Let me show you what a good cup of coffee can taste like when you don’t burn the hell out of it.”
“As long as there’s at least a little cocaine in it,” Finn said.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
I set a large pot of coffee brewing and snagged a plastic-wrapped Danish and devoured it while Adeline and Finn sat at a table.
He unslung his bag and quickly dug out something blocky sealed in brown plastic.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“MRE,” he said. “Nerves had me skipping lunch, and with all the adrenaline, I’m ravenous.” He quickly tore it open and removed a bundle of cardboard or plastic wrapped containers.” He picked up a small rectangular bar and grinned. “Here, Killian, your reward for letting me tag along.”
As he held it out, I grabbed it with a shrug and checked it over.
“An energy bar?”
“A First Strike energy bar,” he said with a laugh. “Don’t knock it. It’s basically a delicacy. Put a little peanut butter on it and warm it up and I swear, it’ll change your life.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I said, stowing it away before turning to him once more. “So, what happened out there, Finn? What were you doing?”
“Extermination,” he said as he prepared his meal.” My captain sent my squad to clear the Sewers, which has become a nesting ground for those monsters. But obviously, things didn’t go according to plan. When we arrived on site, we found a large group on Flint St. Sergeant Holt split our squad into two fireteams to pincer them. I was designated Team Leader and took my team to head off the other side, but something went wrong, and by the time we maneuvered around, they’d started attacking, and we rushed in to support. You both know what happened after that.”
“Unfortunately. I’m sorry about your friends,” I said.
“Thanks.” Finn let out a sharp breath, placing his palms flat on the table. “Though they weren’t the first comrades I’ve lost since this nightmare started, and they won’t be the last.
“But what about the two of you? What are you after that’s worth braving the streets during the apocalypse?”
“Supplies,” I said around a mouthful of pastry. “We need better gear and hoped the military would have what we needed.”
He was silent for a second before he realized what we were after. “You guys want in Fort Alexander?”
“That’s the plan,” Adeline said before turning to me. “Hey, Killian, toss me one of those.”
I grabbed a few more pastries and threw them to her while Finn fiddled with some green bag from his MRE. “Well, what do you say, Finn, want to help us?”
He pondered a moment as he scratched at his stubble. “I can’t help you break into the fort if that’s what you’re thinking, but I do have another idea. Intel put the numbers in the Sewers at a couple dozen or more, but with my squad wiped, I can’t do it alone. And I can’t go back unless it’s reporting mission success. I won’t.
“So how about you two help me complete my mission? You’re clearly talented enough, and I’ll let you have the reward for completing it.”
Without warning, a blue screen flared to life across my vision.
Extermination Quest: Surf and Turf!
Eliminate the infestation of Charade Beasts in the Sewers under the city
Difficulty: Medium
Reward: 532 Exp
250 AC
“What do you think, Ade?” I asked.
“I could go for some crab legs,” she said with a laugh.
Chapter 9- Crabfest
The soft chime of the coffee maker sounded throughout the small café, and both Adeline and Finn jerked at the sudden interruption, going for their weapons while I roared with laughter.
“Easy, guys. Don’t shoot the coffeemaker,” I said, still shaking while I poured a cup. “Want any?”
“God yes.”
“I’d love some.”
I brought the entire pot over to the table and set it down on a bed of napkins while I went and grabbed three large ceramic mugs with the coffee shop logo and name in soft green letters. I poured mine and let the others handle their own.
Adeline took hers black while I added only a little sugar and cream, but Finn poured copious amounts of both into his.
“Don’t worry about the Charade Beasts. Diabetes will kill you long before they get a chance,” Adeline said as she took a sip.
“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Finn replied, taking a huge gulp. “Liquid ambrosia.”
I nursed mine for a while and thought about what our plan of action should be.
Unfortunately, I haven’t been living in this world as long as they have. I don’t have a head for this yet. I think I’m supposed to be the leader of this merry band, yet I’m the one with the least experience, and I don’t have any clue on what to do.
And I can’t forget my end goal. I need to find some way to end the world.
With such an evil and audacious goal, I should be twirling my mustache while petting a hairless cat. It seemed an impossible task, one that I had no idea how to go about starting, let alone completing.
Worry about that later. Let’s work on getting our bearings and grinding some levels. We can tackle the end of the world when we know we aren’t going to die from making a stupid mistake out there.
Both Finn and Adeline have more experience in this world than I do. Let’s try asking them for advice.
I looked up from staring off into space as Finn finished telling the punchline to a joke. Adeline choked on her coffee and nearly did a spit take. When she’d stopped laughing and wiped her mouth, I spoke.
“Okay, so this quest, do you two have any ideas on how to go about it?”
Finn wiped at the corner of his eyes and smiled at me. “A bit too serious, aren’t you, Killian?”
