The prison quest, p.21
The Prison Quest, page 21
She looked at Taff. “Which attribute helps with knives?”
“Depends what you want to improve,” Taff replied. “Strength will help you deal out more damage per hit, but dexterity will help you score more hits, plus it’ll give you a better chance of inflicting critical wounds.”
“Right,” Cody said. That settled it; dexterity would help with her knife skills and improve her abilities as a sniper into the bargain. It was a no-brainer. She assigned both points to dexterity and checked the results:
Name: Cody Milbourne
Level: 7 (5% to lvl 8)
HP: 52
Stamina: 52
Strength: 12
Dexterity: 19
Constitution: 15
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 14
Charisma: 8
Skills: Sprint (2)
Stealth (2)
Knives (3)
Sniper (5)
Hawk-Eye (2)
Awareness
Pistols (3)
Night Vision
Enemy Weakness
Items:
Combat knife
Ancient Sniper Rifle
Ancient Pistol
Poison Blade
12X Healing Drafts
Flashlight
Tattered Scarf
Worn Goggles
Wallet: 110 credits
Crime: Murder
Sentence Remaining: 39yrs 359days
Cody smiled as she read down the list, pleased with each achievement, but her face fell when she reached the last line. Her sentence was still there, hanging over her. Forty years. The thought of it still made her blood boil.
“We should get moving,” Taff said. “There could be more bandits out there, and we don’t want to give them time to regroup. Ready?”
Cody checked the wound on her leg. Her pants were still ripped, but since she’d leveled up, the skin had healed completely. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
“You go ahead,” Azden said. “I’ll watch our backs.”
Taff led the way into the street, pistol in hand, and Cody followed with Azden close behind. They crept down the quiet road, keeping close to the buildings and checking every alley they passed. The place was like a maze, the narrow side streets offering plenty of prime spots for an enemy to lie in wait. But the only bandits they saw were lying dead in the dust.
“Take anything that looks useful,” Taff said, gesturing to the bodies. “They won’t have anything to interest me, but you look like you could use some armor.”
Cody glanced down at her torn and bloodied shirt. The fabric had been threadbare when she’d first worn it, but after her run-in with the cavelings, it was barely recognizable as real clothing, and Taff was right; some armor would be handy.
She stepped over a few bodies, scanning for anything that looked better than the gear she already had. Most of the bandits were in a sorry state, and some were armed with weapons that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a museum: battered swords, maces, and improvised clubs. But she spotted a couple of shiny pistols and took them, along with some body armor, then she checked her UI:
You have collected:
2X Basic Pistols (+1% damage), 1X Basic Body Armor (+10% Defense), 25 credits
If she was reading the message correctly, the new guns could do more damage than her current pistol, and since her ancient handgun had let her down by running out of charge, she decided to make a swap. With no place to trade weapons, it wasn’t worth lugging around a load of obsolete gear, so she tossed her old pistol onto the ground and grabbed a decent holster from a bloodied bandit before stowing her new guns. She donned the body armor, adjusting the leather straps to pull the padded steel sheet tight against her chest. The armor’s leather covering was dented and scored, but it was still in one piece, and it was better than the pierced body armor she’d seen in the Firebrand market. I mustn’t rely on the armor too much, she told herself. There are plenty of weapons that’ll go straight through it. But it would offer some protection, and at least it wasn’t too bulky. She flexed her arms and found she had plenty of freedom to move.
“Now you look the part,” Taff said with a smile.
“Er, thanks,” Cody replied, but she wasn’t convinced. While Taff carried off her devil-may-care outfit with a certain swagger, Cody was just glad that mirrors were in short supply in Fortress Forty-seven. She cast around for a jacket or a coat that might cover her tattered clothes, but the bandits’ clothes weren’t much better than hers. She spotted a dark jacket on a man roughly her size, and she kneeled beside him. The jacket was in reasonable condition, but as she pulled it free from the dead bandit’s arms, his body rolled over and his head lolled to one side, revealing a sharp gash across his throat. Cody gasped.
“What’s up?” Azden asked. “Squeamish?”
“No,” Cody snapped. “But it looks like Deadlock’s been busy. This guy’s throat has been cut.”
“Of course,” Taff said. “What do you think he’s been doing all this time—standing on the sidelines watching?”
Cody looked from side to side, but there was no trace of Deadlock.
“Unless your perception is much higher than I think it is, you won’t see him,” Taff said. “Deadlock’s stealth is supernatural.”
A shadow whirled and shifted at Taff’s side, and Deadlock materialized, his cloak flapping around his legs. “Why is it, that whenever you can’t see me, you start talking about me?”
Taff raised her eyebrows and grinned at Cody. “And you can always be sure he’s eavesdropping.”
Cody gave up on the jacket; it had lost its appeal. She stood and looked Deadlock up and down. What she wouldn’t give to be able to disappear like that. What enemy could stand a chance against Deadlock when he could move undetected? It had taken every ounce of skill and strength she possessed to win her last fight, but Deadlock could’ve slit the man’s throat in a second.
“Find anything interesting?” Taff asked Deadlock. “Anything I should worry about?”
The slurker shook his head. “A few nasty traps scattered around. I’ve disarmed them, but there may be others, so keep your eyes open.”
“Got it,” Taff said. “Any sign of the folks from Akbaz?”
“There’s a walled compound over by the far wall. There are no windows, so I couldn’t see in, but it looks like the prime candidate.”
“Sounds about right,” Azden put in. “Any guards?”
“Not that I could see,” Deadlock replied. “But there will be bandits inside, and they’ll be ready for us.”
“Agreed,” said Taff. “Deadlock, you scout ahead as usual. We’ll be right behind you. Azden and Cody, you’d better stay close.
Cody nodded. “Understood.”
Deadlock set off at a run and was soon lost in the shadows. The rest of the team crept through the silent settlement, heading away from the main gate until Taff held up her hand to call a halt. “There.” She pointed to a sturdy metal wall.
Cody ran her eyes over the bleak structure. This had to be the compound Deadlock had found. Its windowless walls towered above them, almost as tall as the outer defenses, and its upper edges were strewn about with razor wire and jagged spikes. The compound had a single door, and beside it, the remnants of a man trap lay scattered on the ground, its serrated jaws broken apart.
“Deadlock’s handiwork,” Taff whispered.
Cody said nothing. She strained her ears, trying to pick up any sound from within the compound, but the only noise was the whisper of windblown sand. The silence pressed in on Cody, her imagination hurtling into overdrive. Were they too late? Were the prisoners already dead? She glanced at the others, but their expressions gave nothing away.
“Azden, see what you can do with that door,” Taff said. “Cody, get ready to cover him.”
Cody shouldered her rifle and scanned along the wall, but no one appeared as Azden ambled toward the door. She watched him from the corner of her eye, holding her breath as he hauled the door open. Azden stepped back smartly, but there was no rattle of automatic fire, no savage yells or sudden alarms. Azden peeked around the doorway’s edge then waved to Taff and Cody, beckoning them forward.
They ran to join him, but they stopped short when they saw what lay beyond the door. The compound was empty. There were no guards and certainly no prisoners, just a flat area of sand surrounded by rows of metal benches, some of them raised higher than the others on a steep bank of packed earth. “They must’ve hidden the prisoners out back,” Taff said. “Look, there’s a gate on the other side.”
“Let’s go take a look,” said Azden, leading the way inside. Taff marched confidently across the sand, but Cody followed slowly, looking over her shoulder. Then she froze in her tracks. Behind her, the metal door was swinging shut.
“Hey!” she cried out, running back toward their only exit, but she was too late. The door slammed shut, the noise echoing from the compound’s walls, and as Cody reached the door, a metal bar slid from the frame and slammed home with a metallic clunk, locking them inside.
Cody grabbed hold of the steel bar, gripping it tight and trying to slide it back, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried shoving the door with her shoulder, but it was no use. She turned around. “We’re trapped. What do we do?”
Taff shared a look with Azden. “Get ready. This is going to be tough.”
“We could’ve used Kappa and Deadlock,” Azden grumbled, shouldering his weapon.
Taff checked her pistols. “No use wishing. We’ll just have to go for it.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Cody demanded as she hurried to join them. “What do we have to do?”
“It’s an instance fight,” Taff said. “There’s no way to avoid it. Whatever comes through that gate, either we kill it, or it kills us.”
A roar echoed across the compound and Cody stared at the gate. Made from thick steel bars, the gate was surely made to contain some dangerous creature, and now she knew why the compound had bothered her so much when she’d walked in: the flat area surrounded by benches was an improvised arena, and they’d just walked onto center stage.
With a screech, the metal gate swung open. Time stood still. Cody’s breath caught in her chest. And then the creature lumbered into view. Three times Cody’s height, its misshapen body was almost human, but it had the bulk of a bear. Dressed in rags, the creature had the scaled skin of a lizard, and its head was hairless, its hideous face wide. Sharp teeth poked from its crooked mouth and its dark eyes were soulless and rimmed with red. Its mighty shoulders bulged with muscles, and its thick neck was corded. In each meaty hand, the beast carried a rough wooden club, the weapons made more deadly by the hunks of jagged metal jutting from their edges. It lurched forward, and Cody gaped at the creature’s long, sinewy tail, its tip armed with curved spikes.
“Shit!” Taff hissed. “Look at its level.”
Cody tore her eyes away from the creature’s weapons and read:
Mutant, level 50.
Level fifty! Cody took a step back, her rifle unsteady in her hands. She looked over her shoulder to the door. Taff had said they must stay and fight, but what if she was wrong? What if they could climb the walls or shoot out the lock and open the door?
“Don’t panic, Cody!” Taff snapped. “We stick together. It’s a higher level boss, right? Just use the standard method.”
Cody’s heart pounded. “What? I don’t even know what that means!”
“It means you keep out of its reach,” Taff said. “Don’t let it hit you, but you must keep firing at it. We need to wound it as many times as we can. Use your sniper rifle and do as much damage as possible. Got it?”
Cody shook her head. There was no way they could defeat this monster.
“I said, have you got it?” Taff demanded. “We need to work together, Cody, or we’ll all die. Focus. We need you.”
“All right,” Cody said. “I’ve got it. I’ll do what I can.” She aimed her rifle at the beast, but before she could even check her scope, Azden opened fire with his assault rifle, blasting out a blistering stream of plasma bolts, his shots thudding into the creature and erupting in showers of sparks. At the same time, Taff produced her pump-action shotgun and started shooting at the beast’s head, keeping up a relentless stream of gunfire and sidestepping after each shot. The mutant shambled forward, baring its teeth and letting out a thunderous roar of rage. It brandished its clubs, swiping at Taff, but she was moving too quickly for the creature, and its blows found only thin air.
Cody hugged her rifle tight against her shoulder, but her hands trembled and her scope was useless. She fired, but her shot was too high, skimming the top of the creature’s head and careening off its scaly skin without leaving a mark. “Goddammit!” Her sniper rifle wasn’t built for close combat, but her pistols wouldn’t cause enough damage. She had to use her rifle, but she needed somewhere better to shoot from: some place where she could take aim and be sure of a hit. The mutant was concentrating on Taff and Azden, so Cody risked a look around, and something glowing to her right caught her attention. When she’d entered the compound, she’d noticed some of the metal benches were raised up on a bank, and now they were outlined in blue as though glowing from within. What did that mean? Was it some kind of clue? She wasn’t about to go and sit down in the middle of a fight. She turned her attention back to the creature, but a notification appeared in her vision:
Skill used: Awareness.
Awareness? Cody looked back at the blue-lit bench. If she used the back of a seat to steady her rifle, she’d be able to make better shots. And the higher viewpoint would help too. The metal benches might even provide enough cover to confuse the creature.
She sprinted for the benches, scrambling up to the highest position she could find, then she kneeled down to ready herself, centering her scope on the creature’s forehead. Perfect. Cody let out a slow breath and fired. Her plasma bolt smacked into the beast’s skull, right between the eyes, but instead of a gaping head wound, the impact produced only a sizzling pop, and the mutant shook its head as though irritated by a fly. It let out a cry of rage and renewed its attack on Azden and Taff, hitting out at them with its huge clubs.
Cody’s heart clenched. If a headshot from a sniper rifle couldn’t slow the creature, then what chance did she have? But she fought down her fears, recalling Taff’s instructions: Keep firing…work together…focus. Cody blinked the sweat from her eyes and tilted her head back to her scope. Yes. She could do this. Back in Firebrand, she’d spent long hours on the shooting range, and now, the weight of the rifle felt good in her hands. Her muscle memory kicked in, and the weapon became a part of her, an extension of her body. She had the skills she needed and a team alongside her. Eventually, they would win; nothing could stand against a constant barrage of fire forever.
She tracked the mutant’s movements with her rifle, firing a volley of shots, all of them hitting the creature’s head. The beast roared, and for a brief moment, it looked up from Azden and Taff, turning its head slowly, its dark eyes narrowed. Cody centered her scope once more, but in that instant, the mutant glared directly at her. And then it let out a hiss and flicked its tail.
Cody kept her eye pressed against her scope, watching in horror as the creature’s tail whipped in her direction. A handful of the mutant’s spikes came free and flew through the air, their curved edges catching the light as they hurtled toward her. She ducked, throwing herself to the ground, and the spikes thudded against the metal bench in front of her.
Keep firing, Cody told herself, and she peeped over the bench, readying her rifle. The mutant was once more flailing with its clubs while Taff and Azden darted around it, both blasting away with their weapons. Cody glanced down and found five spikes, each longer than her hand, buried in the bench. Bright green liquid leaked from each spike, bubbling as it ran down the metal, etching brown lines of rust into the steel. Poison! If just one spike had hit her, she’d have died an excruciating death.
“Stay clear!” Azden bellowed. “I’m going berserker.”
Cody held her fire, unsure what Azden meant, but Taff leaped back from the mutant and dashed toward a row of benches, diving for cover behind the metal seats. Cody ducked, but she made sure she could still peek down into the arena. She had to know what Azden was going to do. She had to see for herself.
Azden stopped shooting and stood still. His assault rifle vanished, then he stretched out his arms, his muscles taut, glistening with sweat.
“No,” Cody murmured. “It’ll kill you.” But Azden was unafraid. He lifted his chin, opened his mouth wide and let out a mighty battle yell, the veins in his temples bulging as he bellowed at the sky. A red glow formed around him, a haze of pulsing light, and then he was transformed. A massive gun appeared in each of Azden’s hands, and he became a blur, a force of nature. He moved like a demon, flitting from place to place, his arms whirling as he fired. A torrent of dazzling plasma blasts spewed from Azden’s guns, and the mutant reeled, staggering backward. The creature growled, lifting its clubs high, but it hesitated as if dazed, shaking its head. Azden’s rasping yell filled the arena, and the bark of his gunfire boomed from the compound’s walls. The creature was wounded now, charred hunks of scaly skin falling from its chest, its arms, its back. But the mutant’s injuries sent it into a frenzied rage, and it fought more fiercely than before, jabbing at Azden with its club again and again. Azden dodged every blow, but the creature turned and lashed out with its tail, unleashing a dozen poisoned spikes. Cody gasped, but Azden leaped out of the way, his body twisting in midair, and the spikes thudded harmlessly into the ground.
Cody chose her moment and loosed a couple of shots at the monster’s head, but despite her rounds finding their target, the mutant fought on, lumbering after Azden as fast as its thick legs could carry it.
How much pain can this thing stand? Cody asked herself. It has to give in soon. But it was Azden who faltered first. He staggered to a standstill, his arms limp by his sides, his shoulders sagging.
“Cover me!” Taff yelled, and Cody took aim. The creature had his back to her, and Cody fired a volley of shots into the back of its skull. The mutant turned, and its dark eyes found her, its glare sending a chill down Cody’s spine. She fired again, but the creature advanced on her, its club raised. Cody sent a volley of shots into the creature’s head, but they didn’t even slow the mutant down. It reached the first row of benches and seemed confused, but not for long. One blow from its club smashed a whole section of seats to the ground, and the creature clambered over the wreckage, trampling it down. It caught its foot on a damaged seat and flew into a fury, striking the ruined benches with its clubs, reducing them to a tangled mass of scrap metal.
