Apocalypse game, p.29
Apocalypse Game, page 29
“I’m level nine, no new skills,” Adeline said.
“Same here. Level nine, almost level ten.”
Damn, has the Charisma boost really helped me that much? I shook my head. It also helps that I didn’t have half my levels stolen like they did.
Though the pace at which I was leveling was impressive, I also didn’t need to let myself out-level my party. That would only come back to bite me in the ass when it really counted.
“Word of advice, guys. I’d start dropping some points in Charisma. I’m nearly level thirteen. Which puts me a good bit ahead of you.”
“Already planning on it,” Adeline said.
“Well, hell, I can’t be the weakest link in this party, so you know I’m in,” Finn said.
“Good.” I rose and glanced at them. “Let’s go deal with the tamer and link up with the soldiers.”
We crept through the side rooms until we got to the central portion of the mall where we’d last seen the man who controlled the Carnival Beasts.
But there was no one there when we returned.
“I don’t like this. Where is everyone? We should have seen someone by now.”
My instincts screamed at me, and I cursed. “This has to be a trap, retreat─” I began but was interrupted by the thump of boots echoing throughout the desolate mall.
Well over a dozen men appeared from the surrounding stores, all of them pointing a variety of weapons at us. The man from before stood in the center of the crowd.
“Ding, ding, ding. Give the man a prize.” He smiled at us, still superior. “I’ve got to give you props for defeating my playthings and without losing any of your party.” He gave us a mocking clap. “The boss would like a word. So, you’ll be coming with us.”
The men quickly advanced and took our guns before we could think about resisting. If we fought, they’d shred us in seconds.
“Guess we have no choice.” I couldn’t stop the cheeky grin on my face as I spoke and held up a Vulcan greeting. “Take us to your leader.”
Chapter 20- Where to Draw the Line?
They took our equipment and supplies before they bound us with zip ties. The men kept their guns jammed against our spines as they marched us deeper into the mall.
Three men ran ahead while the others spread out and kept an eye on us. We passed even more empty stores; most of the clothing shops had been ransacked, as well as the single sporting goods store. But beyond that, it seemed the rest of the outlets had been spared from the looting.
I paused as we took a right, heading deeper into the mall.
They’re taking us to the food court. It’s in the center of the building and could be easily fortified.
My hunch was soon proved correct as we rounded another corner and were met with a miniature camp.
The once circular food stalls were still present but were augmented with welded sheets of metal and wooden supports. They’d added to the area and fenced off the entire section. They included a few makeshift barricades and even a gate. The once chain-link fence was bolted with hunks of metal and tire strips, and it swung open at our approach.
The men led us past dozens of people, not the gang members or hardened thugs I expected, but ordinary people.
What the hell is going on here?
These don’t look like a gang. They look like refugees.
In the center of the room were three rows of metal tables and benches. The tamer led us to the center most table where a long-haired man sat, eating a bowl of soup.
“Boss,” the tamer said with a nod, motioning to us.
That’s Salvatore?
He was younger than I was expecting, maybe late twenties or just a little older. He had sharp features, and his hair was thick and dark, though not nearly as dark as mine, and it fell to his shoulders. He wasn’t built large, but there was plenty of lean muscle on him, and he had a calmness about him that unsettled me.
“Thank you, Matthias.”
Salvatore stared at me with chocolate brown eyes that matched his hair almost exactly. He had a piercing gaze and a thin, angular nose that led to a scowling mouth, his pale lips grimacing as if he were in pain.
He set his spoon down and pushed his bowl aside as he directed us to sit. “Please, have a seat,” he said, his voice a warm and husky contrast to his unsettling demeanor.
“Don’t think you’ll leave us much choice in the matter, so why the hell not?”
We did as instructed and sat down. The moment we did, the men with their guns halfway through our chest cavities backed off, and I breathed a mental sigh of relief.
If they haven’t shot us yet, then we might be able to talk ourselves out of this mess. Though, if this turns into a fight, we’re outgunned, but not entirely outmatched. We’re strong, but Demon Form is powerful enough to catch them by surprise if I time it right.
I can turn the tables if I can capture Salvatore. Finn can tank the bullets with Abyssal Armor and Void Shield while Adeline turns the court to the deepest level of hell.
I kept a smile off my face and stared at Salvatore, waiting for him to speak.
He drummed his fingers on the table and glanced at each one of us. “I’d like to ask who you are, but I can guess. Reynolds’s attack dogs. But you’re not soldiers.” He motioned to Finn. “Not all of you, at least. Mercs, then.”
“Something like that. We were hired to put a stop to your activities, but I’m no one’s dog,” I said.
“You’re right. Dog was too generous. They’re loyal, at least. If you fight for money, then you’re nothing but a scavenger, fighting over whatever scraps you can.” He scowled and held his hands out. “Does this look like scraps to you? Like hell we’re going to roll over so you can pick this place clean.” Salvatore paused as he looked at us once more. “If you’re mercs, then Reynolds won’t care if I end you. Though why send only three─”
He snapped his fingers and whistled three times, one low and the others higher in pitch. The entire camp became a hive of activity. Everyone bustled about as they grabbed weapons and threw on body armor.
Salvatore pointed the finger at us. “You’re not alone. Which means we have trouble coming.”
They’re more organized than I was expecting. But makeshift barricades and improvised body armor won’t be enough to stand against Moore’s squad. Not unless they have some more unique classes up their sleeves.
Things were busy in the camp, and no one was paying attention to us beyond Salvatore. If I was going to make my move, it would have to be now.
“Are you planning on killing us?” I asked.
“Of course. It’s nothing persona─“
Before he could finish the sentence, I shifted to Demon Form. The zip ties binding my hands snapped in an instant as I leapt to my feet and reached over the table and grabbed Salvatore by the throat.
His eyes widened in shock at seeing my eyes blacken and horns sprout from my head.
“Well, I’m afraid I have a problem with that,” I said as I hauled him out of his seat, cutting off his airflow.
The crowd of people stopped at my sudden outburst, and they stared in shock at my demonic visage. Each held guns in their hands, but none dared move while I held Salvatore.
I wrapped my arm around his neck and shouted at the crowd that stood in slack-jawed terror. “Our weapons will be returned to us. Now!”
Like a gunshot, they scrambled and went to retrieve our belongings. When they returned, one man meekly set the bundle of guns and supplies on the table in front of us and backed away.
Finn gathered them and passed them to us. I slung the SMG on my back and grabbed my pistol, placing the barrel against the back of Salvatore’s head.
“Alright, tell everyone to drop their weapons in a neat pile,” I demanded.
Salvatore risked a look back and shook his head in wonder. “She was right. I owe her an apology.” He turned around and addressed the room. “Everyone, do as he said. Drop your weapons.”
They all slowly lowered their guns, dropping them in a disorganized pile on the table in the center of the room. They followed Salvatore’s orders without question. Which meant they had absolute faith in him.
It was actually rather impressive.
“Can I stand up now?” Salvatore asked when the last of his men had disarmed.
“Yeah, but if you try any─“
“You’ll shoot me and slaughter everyone. I know the drill,” he said and stood up. He looked back and smiled softly. “The man with the horns. I didn’t think you were real. I guess I should be thanking you.”
“For what?”
“For saving me,” a voice spoke from the far edge of the room.
A woman walked in, and I knew her at once. Though she looked a thousand times better than the last time I’d seen her. Her thick brown hair was combed, and her heart-shaped face was smiling, her dark eyes staring back at me.
I laughed. “You know, you owe my friend here a new pistol.”
She smiled. “I never managed to thank you for saving my life and for rescuing me from those men.”
The sight they left flared to life, and I didn’t want to remember the broken and bleeding woman on the stained and soiled mattress, who was now in front of me, shoving that memory into my face once more.
“Yeah, don’t mention it,” I said. “Never got to know your name, though.”
“Never got to know yours either,” she said with a laugh. “I’m Clara.”
“Killian…it’s good to see you looking better.” I dropped my Demon Form and looked over to Finn and Adeline, who still had their weapons pointed at the group. “Put your guns down, guys. We’re not going to fight them.”
“Are you sure, Kill?” Adeline asked.
I nodded. “Look at this place. These aren’t gang members. They’re refugees. We were played, or at least misinformed.”
“Captain Reynolds wouldn’t do that,” Finn said.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said, turning to Finn. “But I’m not going to slaughter innocents for a few experience points and coins now, are you?”
He shook his head.
“Good.” I motioned to Salvatore. “Truce?”
He thought about it for a second before nodding. “Truce.”
Extermination Quest: Shop Till you Drop Failed!
I lost a good bit of experience and coins, but at least I’ll be able to sleep at night.
We holstered our weapons and sat down at the table while Adeline and Finn introduced themselves.
Clara kept stealing glances my way, and I had to ask. “What, do I have something on my face?”
“You have horns and black eyes. What are you?”
Salvatore looked up from saying something to Finn. “I would very much like to know that as well. I’ve seen some unique classes before, but none such as yours.”
Telling them would only lead to conflict, but I was damned tired of hiding, of being ashamed of the decision I’d made.
Besides, we have the upper hand here. If this does go south, then we can handle it. But I need to find out if people can work with me, even after knowing the truth, or if that’s an impossibility.
It was a gamble, but as I discreetly drew my pistol under the table and thumbed the hammer back, I was calm in knowing that I was at least stacking the deck in my favor.
I sighed. “I’m the Demon Lord.”
Salvatore went rigid.
Clara didn’t say anything, but everyone in the back started freaking out and went for their weapons on the table.
My pistol went to Salvatore’s forehead. “Can we not do this dance? I’m getting fucking sick of it.”
Salvatore nodded and whistled again to his men, and they stopped trying to go for the guns. “No one do something stupid and get us all killed.” He rested his palms flat on the table and leaned back. “You’re the Demon Lord, but what’s the Harbinger of the Apocalypse doing storming a mall full of survivors? Why rescue and treat my sister?”
“Clara’s your sister?”
“She is, and she told me you personally carried her from the garage and took care of her.”
I thought she was asleep through all that.
“She was hurt and in a bad situation. How could I have left her like that? I may be the Demon Lord, but I’m still human.”
“Regardless of what you are, you have my thanks. Though I don’t know if I should let you walk out of here. I’m grateful, but you’re set to destroy the world. It’s worth the risk to my life to try to stop you.”
I pressed the barrel hard against his forehead. “Don’t try it.”
Before he could say anything else, two suppressed gunshots echoed through the mall, and Salvatore smiled. “How about we save the threats until after we deal with your friends? What do you say?”
Side Quest: The Tables Have Turned!
Deal with the invading military presence
Difficulty: Hard
Reward: 2247 Exp!
1,000 AC!
Oh hell, why not?
Let’s see if we can’t talk our way out of this. I scoffed. Hopefully, my Charisma is high enough.
The soldiers used suppressors, but Salvatore’s men didn’t have such luxury, and their deafening gunfire resounded throughout the mall. It bounced off the tile and echoed, making it hard to pin down, but Salvatore stood and led the way as we followed close behind him.
He pulled two pistols from a hidden holster at his lower back. Berettas. Though they were modified with extended magazines, foregrips, and muzzle brakes.
I smirked. “You had those the entire time?”
Salvatore chuckled, flashing me a fierce grin. “Didn’t think I was just going to sit there and let you execute me, did you?”
I laughed. “Can’t really argue that one.”
He grunted, picking up speed. Salvatore barreled forward at a breakneck pace, and we had to sprint to catch up.
The gunfire thankfully drowned out our footsteps on the tile, so I didn’t have to worry about turning the corner and catching a surprise face full of buckshot.
We ducked through what used to be a candy store that was under renovations when all this started. The dark-tinted glass kept us out of eyesight while four of Salvatore’s men crouched behind a cobbled-together barricade and took potshots at the soldiers.
We rushed through the store and out the back. Salvatore was hoping to catch the soldiers off guard and ambush them, but I still wasn’t sure what was going on.
Reynolds could have just been misinformed. And he’d better hope that’s the case, for his sake. But I don’t want this to end in a river of blood if I can help it.
“Let me talk to them,” I said.
He cursed under his breath. “Fine, you get one chance.” He held up a finger. “One.”
I nodded, crept forward, and peered around the hallway. Only a handful of the men were here, but Staff Sergeant Moore was leading them, angled low over the half-moon welcome desk. It was old, solid oak, but whatever kind of ammo Salvatore’s men used, it was effective.
Bullets ate up the wood but couldn’t manage to puncture through. Neither side gained traction, each popping up to fire off a few rounds and retreating. With the open nature of the mall, there was no additional cover, and this had turned into a battle of attrition.
Until the soldiers brought their skills to bear.
Moore held out his hand and primed a Phantom Grenade. It glowed a soft blue, and he hurled it at the barricade and ducked.
“Shit!”
I grabbed the others, and we hit the deck as the explosion went off. I’d already been on the receiving end of one of the grenades before, but it wasn’t a feeling you got used to.
The shock wave rolled over us, shaking my chest and causing my heart to skip a beat while my ears rang. Bits of tile and wood flew over us and clattered around the store. Glass shattered as a wave of pressure thrummed through the floor.
As the blast subsided, the four of us got off the ground and went to check on the others.
The metal barricade was gone. Only splintered and cracked fragments of steel remained, splashed with blood and viscera. Salvatore’s men were nothing but hunks of too pink and red meat, their lifeblood splattered across the ground, walls, and once clothing stores. The nearby windows had been blasted apart, allowing blood to splash across every garment displayed in the storefront.
I was stunned at the sight of it, human beings weren’t meant to look like raw hamburger meat covered in tomato sauce, yet that’s exactly what stared me down as I rounded the corner.
All we need is some really long pasta, and we’ve got spaghetti.
That thought made me want to laugh until I choked or ran screaming from the room, but I shook my head and stepped from the storefront towards the staff sergeant.
Moore turned as glass crunched under my steps. He leveled his rifle at my heart before he realized it was me and relaxed slightly.
“Ah, kid. I was wondering where you ran off to.”
“Staff Sergeant,” I said and gestured in horror at the gore in front of us. “Stop this. These people aren’t criminals. They’re survivors. There’s no need for any of this.”
“Not criminals, you say.” He chuckled and reloaded his weapon. “Salvatore and his men have been stealing supplies for weeks, encroaching on our territory and taking from us. I’d say that makes them criminals.”
“So just trying to survive in this nightmare world warrants a death sentence? These are innocent people!”
“They’re our enemies,” he snapped. “And Captain Reynolds won’t stand for it any longer.”
I paused. “So Reynolds knew?”
“Of course he did.” Moore rounded up his men. “Now, I’m done talking, merc. Help or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me.”
Finn stepped forward. “Staff Sergeant, you can’t just slaughter these people.”
Moore’s eyes grew cold, and he spoke with calm calculation. “We can, and we will, and I won’t be questioned by a fucking deserter.”
“We’re not going to let you go on a killing spree,” I said, holding my voice firm. “It’s not going to happen.”
He laughed, and cruelty spilled from his voice as he gripped his rifle tight, just itching to make a move. “Try. I’d love the excuse to gut the lot of you.”
