[Player Log Start]
[Log Holder: Verity Monroe]
[Level: 1 – Boss Stage]
Verity had warned them. She had warned them. Now everything was on fire and it was all their fault.
Actually, that wasn’t necessarily true. If things were on fire, it might have made things better. Because then the zombies would be dying from the fire. And if it was one thing these zombies weren’t doing, it was dying. They weren’t freaking dying.
Okay. Take deep breaths. Step back. Let her explain how it started.
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She got taken out of lockup three days after the others. Turns out, they weren’t big on judiciary systems here. And Marc wasn’t ratting her out to them, either. So, she was free.
“You don’t look too happy about it.” Jared told her, once she was back at her normal posting with the foraging group. Now that the Console was out of their reach, they would have to rely on the more normal and inconvenient ways to find food. At least there was no shortage of food in the forests.
“What makes you think I’m not happy?” Verity groused, kicking off one of her shoes with such force it clanged against the wall of the caravan. Terry and Asadullah winced at the sound, and Michael looked at her reproachfully over his sunglasses.
“Okay, maybe that was a bit uncalled for.” She relented.
“I thought you didn’t like being tied down?” Jared asked, “Aren’t you happy about being let out?”
Asadullah frowned, “They were tying you up? That’s not ethical, you realize-”
“Figure of speech, Asad.” Jared told him gently, “We meant, like, being told to stay in one place is a problem for her. And it should have gotten worse from the small space, so what’s the deal now?”
“Have you forgotten what I’ve been raving about this whole time?” Verity asked, patience running out with every careless word. They didn’t have time for this. They didn’t have time to be looking for food. Who knew if food was something any of these people would even need after this? It was all wishful thinking.
“Right, right, the Boss Fight.” Michael agreed, “We understand what you’re saying. And we’re preparing for it, too. But right now, there’s nothing we can do except for waiting.”
“Waiting.” Verity spat, “That’s all we ever do! Waiting and grinding and racking up points upon points, what else is there? We’re supposed to save a world like this?”
“We’re not supposed to save anything.” Asadullah reminded in a neutral tone, “Terry is supposed to be doing that. We’re… backup, if you want to give it a name.”
“Backup?” Verity asked softly, betraying the seething rage that bubbled under her surface, “If we’re backup, then we should be covering his ass, shouldn’t we? I don’t see us doing that by just waiting.”
“Okay, yeah, I see where you’re coming from.” Michael agreed, “But I don’t see us doing anything until the action dies out.”
They had a point on that front, she had to admit, but the thing that stuck out to her was a more important complaint, “You aren’t telling them about the attack that will come here.”
The accusation hung in the air, uncomfortable. No one wanted to meet her eye. Michael looked away bodily. She was right. They weren’t going to say a thing.
She had realized that when they hadn’t spoken up about the Boss Fight the minute she had begun ranting about it. The Mobs, in their silent, pre-programmed manner, had ignored her and not allowed her to spread the word when she was in lockup. And now that she was out, she needed to find someone who was an NPC, not a Mob and warn them.
But how was she supposed to find one?
“Terry.” She whispered, turning towards him, “You said that you knew people in the Cure-Making section who were definitely NPCs. Could you arrange a meeting for me?”
Terry took a shuddering breath and nodded. He didn’t sound happy with that, though.
“They might.” He whispered, “If I put a good word in for you…”
“Yes. Do that. They sound like smart people. Easy to listen to reason.” Verity nodded.
“Don’t let her force you into doing anything you don’t want.” Asadullah told him gently.
“Everyone has to do things they don’t want to if we want to make this work.” Verity frowned, feeling more than a little uncomfortable at the implication that she wasn’t in the right here. She wasn’t pressuring him into doing anything bad! This is what simply had to be done.
“That’s… true.” Jared agreed. His voice was cautious. Walking on eggshells.
“I don’t mind.” Terry whispered, “Whatever helps us.”
“And how’s the cure coming along?” Michael asked, all polite friendliness.
Terry brightened up, much more excited to talk about his passion project, “Showing the results of Derek greatly improved their opinion of my research. Someone came in recently, with a fresh bite, but… they transformed before we could administer it. Before, we had a type of surgery set up to get the fungus inside the nervous system, but it seems to be taking too much time.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Why not just implant it into everyone before they get bitten?” Verity asked, “Prevention better than Cure, you know?”
Terry looked at her as if she had lost her mind, “If the nervous system isn’t damaged in anyway, then the fungus rises up, overtakes high brain function, and leads the people to the most fertile area for it to feed off once it had sucked the person dry of nutrients.”
“…What?” Verity frowned, alarm flashing through her, “You’re putting that in people?!”
“When they’re about to turn into zombies.” Terry explained, as if that made things better, “There’s a tight window between ‘human’ and ‘zombie’ that we need to hit, otherwise the cure won’t work.”
“The cure… doesn’t work on zombies?” Jared asked, “Doesn’t that go against the whole point? What about Derek?”
“The experiments get them to level up.” Terry replied, “That’s about it, as far as I can see. Heightened intelligence, better dexterity, and more strength, but no sense of self. No memory. No sentience. Not like how our simulations and animal tests are working out. It doesn’t work with rotters. But it will with humans.”
“But we’re trying to solve the Apocalypse.” Michael told him slowly, “Even if no new zombies are being created, what about the rest of the zombies? It can’t be considered a real end of the apocalypse if the threat of uprising is still there.”
“We need to find some way to kill them all.” Asadullah agreed, “You think you can figure something out, Mister Zombie Expert?”
“Cure Maker, not murder maker.” Terry corrected, rubbing a hand over his cheeks, “But I think that I can figure something out using… fire toxin spores? No, actually, I think I should try out antibiotics first. Ditch the fungus for a little while. I’ve been indulging too much in that recently.”
“What?” Verity and Jared asked simultaneously, looking at him in bafflement, “What would those do?”
“The zombie bites are used to transmit bacteria which causes infections.” Terry reminded them, “I’ve told you this, haven’t I? A good dose of penicillin should kill them on the spot.”
“And you… didn’t think to test this before?” Asadullah asked, eyebrows scrunched up, “We could have done this ages ago! The zombies are such a problem.”
“It was a relief to just be able to trap one and kill it over and over again as a form of grinding, though.” Michael pointed out, “But, yes, we should try that. When do you think we can do that?”
“You need Derek for anything more?” Verity asked, “Because as far as I can see, if we manage to kill him now, then that means it’s super effective against every zombie out there.”
Despite her excitement, Terry’s mouth twisted down, and animosity rose from everyone around her. Terry shook his head, “I- we- won’t be doing that. Some other one?”
Ah, this was another appearance of his attachments to things which had nothing to offer him. And they’d only just escaped the consequences of his last attachment. She was still bitter about the Roiland situation, it was a mystery why no one else seemed to care as much as she did.
Still, they all simply indulged it without a second thought.
“Sure.” Michael agreed, “There’s a stockpile in the lab you mentioned, right? What’s the security on that? We could easily try it on them.”
“There’s a heavy duty lock.” Terry explained, not looking very certain about this plan, “Not computerized, either. But the windows from the third floor and above are easy to break into. If you can climb up there.” At his words, everyone turned to look at Verity, expectation gleaming in their eyes.
“I’m not going to…” She began to say, before giving up halfway through. What the hell, she knew they were going to have her do it anyway.
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It wasn’t hard to climb up through a blind spot in the building perimeter at ten o’clock in the morning. Maybe ten fifteen. She wasn’t sure. How long had it been since she saw a clock? Why did she even think this was ten o’clock?
Because the shift timetable had 10 o’clock listed as the beginning of Terry’s shift, which had started just now. The plan was to sneak in while he was holding court, grabbing a zombie and then pulling it into the maintenance closet nearest to the second floor stairwell. And then have him sneak in some kind of antibiotic during his scheduled first quarter rounds, just to see what would happen to the zombie.
Getting in was no problem at all. The ledges above the windows made everything so much easier than what she was used to. She just had to drop onto one, stick her foot off it to shimmy the window open, and then slip inside, easy as you please.
She couldn’t resist pulling a crouching spy pose when she landed, though, reveling in the sound of imaginary theme music. But soon she had to straighten up and get back to business.
Usually, allowing herself to be trapped in close quarters with a zombie would be unthinkable, but the zombies in the lab were a unique case. They had had their arms and lower jaws removed, making it easy for them to be led around without any trouble. As long as you didn’t kill them. According to case files, upon reawakening after their second death, the zombies regrew their missing appendages.
She could just hope that the antibiotics worked, even as she wrestled the zombie down the flight of stairs (not an easy thing to pull off, as zombies were bad at stairs) and into the maintenance closet that Terry had pointed out to her.
What was it with people sending her into maintenance places? She had had just about enough of them for a lifetime.
Thankfully, she didn’t need to wait long for Terry to show up, tablets of medication in hand to force down the test zombie’s throat. It sat for a second, twitching and gurgling, before slumping down.
[You have Killed the Zombie (Lv. 3)!]
[You have been Rewarded 20 Exp.]
[Zombie will revive in…]
Here, the normal green panel was glitched, the panel turning purple surrounded by question marks.
[?̶̞̋̄̂̚?̶̿̂ͅņ̵̝̒̈́̒͂e̴̍̔͝v̶̑̅̂ē̸̼̜͆͘r̸͋?̷̩͍͆̍̇̚?̷]
She raised a hand towards Terry in a high five, determined to take the win. All that bloody violence, these things could survive, but a tiny tablet took them out? She’d believe it.
And that was when the rumbling sounded. No, it wasn’t just a sound. It was a sensation, rippling through their legs and into the air around them. The sounds were screams, both human and… other. Verity didn’t need to hunt down an explanation this time. The panels appearing in front of them were enough explanation.
[King Zombie Has Called an Attack]
[Boss Battle Starting in 3…]
[2…]
“King Zombie?” Verity repeated, “The hell is a King Zombie supposed to be?”
“Don’t know!” Terry replied frantically, his voice fraying under pressure as he just resorted to making questioning hand signs.
Through the small window of the closet door, Verity could see even the test zombies marching, limbs and jaws regrowing for no discernable reason. Except to kill. At least the one with them was still dead.
“I don’t know what we should do.” Verity told him, feeling her blood singing from the promise of a fight. She couldn’t do that right now. Terry needed a reliable team player by his side, “But, you stay in here.”
And in the next second, she was springing outside, hands wrapped around reliable knives.
[1…]
[Boss Battle Start!]
First strike in, and already she was elbow deep in rotting viscera. She let a smile creep up her face.
[Player Log End!]