[Player Log Start!]

[Log Holder: Benedict Carrey]

[Level: 1]

Ben lay awake that night, her thoughts worked into a jumble so tight that sleep was a faraway thought. She wanted to ask Terry more questions, get him to explain the process a bit more, even ask how he had managed to get into a situation as cushy as this, because surely no one could be as lucky as this, right?

Most of all, she wanted to take him to her brother, and get him fixed.

She could still feel the detritus under her fingernails from the attack. It wasn’t the kind of thing that simply went away, even after two years. No matter how many rotters she’d taken down since then, and how easily it had come to her, that first, familiar face continued to haunt her.

He had looked so alive when it happened. The infection hadn’t spread far. Just enough to get into the brain, and that was all it took to completely destroy her brother, leaving nothing behind except a soulless husk intent on killing her and the guy who had been trying so hard to keep them both safe. A husk that only Ben could have put down.

It would have destroyed her enough as it was, they barely had the presence of mind to pack essentials as they ran for the one place they could think of, leaving her brother’s body bleeding out on the floor, brains oozing out through the cracks in his head, dark red tinged with sickly green. The sight alone promised to remain in her thoughts for the rest of her life. Sometimes, she found herself tracing feathery touches over her skull, imagining the green swirling inside, pulsing and yearned to come out. For her to set it free with a single, easy blow.

She wasn’t going to do it. But the thought still persisted.

Two days after the incident that plunged her into the deep end this new world, she found her brother again. And it ruined her all over again.

He was standing there, in a street, wandering around with a hoard of other rotters. No hint that the last time she’d seen him, there had been a lamp halfway through his head. It was a sight so disconcerting, that for a moment she thought that Gerard had never even been in their apartment. That he’d always been out here, looking more rotter than ever.

Except, a long, sticky strand of brain-fluids dripped from a bald patch in the husk’s head. Where there should have been a crack, it was sealed tight and perfect.

Ben would come to realize later that rotters could regenerate. It was the worst news of her life.

As if some god out there had risen specifically to spite her, Gerard’s body continued to stalk her throughout the years. No matter where she went, how high up the building was, how many evasion tactics she employed, he would always invariably show up while she was hunting for resources. Those sunken eyes boring into her face, even though they didn’t seem to react to any light.

So, she turned tail and ran further afield. Food and water were scarce in the town, anyways. It was more practical to be a coward.

In the murky darkness, someone shifted towards her right. Given that she was sharply aware of Tench sleeping on her right, her first instinct was that a zombie had somehow broken into the place. Then her mind caught up with her, and she remembered that there were a lot of people around now. Probably someone shifting in their sleep.

Except the sound of movement didn’t stop, and the creak of mattress springs was soon replaced by quiet pats on the linoleum floor. They weren’t asleep, whoever it was.

Unable to contain her curiosity, she pulled herself up, too. Over by the area humming with electronics and refrigerators, there stood a short figure, illuminated by the light from inside the fridge. The silvery blond hair shown off from the light made it clear that it was Michael. Helping himself to some water with shaking hands.

“Hey.” She whispered, trying not to disturb the other five people, resting peacefully. Wow, six people. All in this wacky adventure together. She didn’t know how to feel about that.

Her cautiousness didn’t do much good, as Michael jolted and dropped the glass. Thankfully, it was plastic, otherwise it would have been a disaster.

“Why would you sneak up on my like that?” He asked, screwing the cap of the water bottle back up, “That was mean.”

“I was trying to be considerate.” She replied, “Just wanted to… check in on you. How’re you doing? The Sub-Level go alright?”

It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, their biggest concern was getting Michael back from that Warp Point. Now, the rules had changed entirely, and so had the Game’s priorities. Ben hadn’t even had time to pause and consider how bad it must have been for the poor guy, being left in the lurch like this.

To her surprise, a small smile crept over Michael’s face, “Yeah, I think it went alright.” He confirmed.

It was such a normal-kid reaction from these interdimensional travelers who were anything but, that Ben couldn’t help but needle him about his bashfulness, “Did you meet someone special?” She teased, “Looking forward to meeting them again?”

“No! She’s old.” Michael scoffed, before backtracking, “Well, not really, she’s like… twenty, maybe. But you know what I mean. It’s gross. But she helped me out, so that was nice of her.”

“Oh, sorry.” Ben cringed, “Just ignore that. Did it at least turn out better than Jared’s run?”

He laughed a little, “Funny story, I ended up in the exact dimension he did. We were wrong about the Sub-Level system.”

Wait, really? Ben wanted to ask him more questions about this. What was the quest? Who did he encounter? Why were the Sub-Levels being set up like this? The way it was going right now, there attention was split between fixing the ‘zombie’ apocalypse, and doing little fetch quests in this other dimension. Why couldn’t they just do things one at a time?

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

But Michael’s eyes were sunken and bloodshot, and he looked weak and tired. Now wasn’t the time to press him about such topics.

“Any reason you can’t catch any winks?” She decided to ask instead, “If your adventure was so great and all. You even became a sorcerer!”

“Oh, it was great.” Michael was quick to agree, “I just… I’m having trouble adjusting. When the notification about the stolen laptop popped up, I was convinced that it was another Player, just like I had encountered in the Sub-Level. But this guy, Terry, he doesn’t know the first thing about the Game.”

“Wait, hold on.” Ben interrupted, trying not to freak him out too much, “You met another Player?”

“Never saw them face to face, but I knew they were there.” Michael confirmed, “Were using Compulsion on Lucky.”

“Lucky? Lucky Paine? The one with the spider-chair?” Ben pressed, “You ran into her? Was she pissed at Jared, still? Are you okay?”

She had grabbed him by the shoulders before she could even think too hard about it, and the way he wiggled, the grip was tight. She pried her fingers off and tried to keep her cool, “Or, you know, tell everyone the whole thing tomorrow morning. That’s fine, too.”

“Sleep does sound good.” Michael confirmed.

“Yeah. It does. And I can’t get any with you two chattering away.” Asadullah snipped from his mountain of pillows. He’d taken every spare pillow and cushion. Some which weren’t even spares but had been relinquished to him by way of puppy dog eyes. Still, they didn’t seem enough to block out the sound of people talking several feet away.

“Sorry.” Ben whisper shouted back to him, but he didn’t acknowledge it.

Michael laughed politely and sidled away, giving Ben a quick wave before settling down to try and get more sleep. She didn’t know if he managed to get that sleep, but she at least fell into a sweet, dreamless sleep, so it was all for the best.

By the time she woke up, warm light was bathed on her skin, and a gentle breeze was dancing across her skin. Warm bed, soft blanket, cool air outside. It truly was a dream she had never thought would come true. Her eyes cracked open as she let out a content sigh and bent her back into satisfying arch.

A pair of orange hazel eyes were looking directly at her, barely three inches away from her face.

She screamed, backing away, and Terry jumped backwards too, looking around in a panic.

“Why did you yell?” He asked, speaking for once instead of signing.

“Because you were being creepy.” She huffed, “What on Earth were you doing?”

“Waiting for you to wake up.” He responded, as if that was the obvious answer. Then, sensing he had said the wrong thing, he looked away, rubbing at his neck, “I… haven’t had much human contact these past couple years.”

“Wow. I hadn’t even noticed.” She frowned. When his face crumpled, she immediately wanted to take it back. Poor kid was trying his best and here she was being a bitch for no reason.

“You’ll have a lot of contact now that you’re with us.” She said instead. A pitiful recovery. Yet, it seemed to do the trick, as he mustered up a smile, eyes drifting away.

“Right, well, we’re going to have to get started on… breakfast? Yes, mornings are for breakfast. We’re all pitching in for it. And then a debriefing to see what everyone has been doing so far.” He continued; hands aflutter.

Ben nodded, the normalcy of the suggestion almost foreign. Of course, they had morning meals all the time, but no one called it breakfast. Except maybe as a joke. But no, Terry was serious about this. There was an actual stove dragged in from the break room with several canisters of gas that they were cooking around. Verity was sitting cross-legged on a tall stool, stirring away at a pot with a long spoon.

“Porridge.” She explained, when Ben looked over her shoulder, “Asadullah’s making parathas, too. Supposed to be a filling food, apparently? I’m not sure.”

“I’ve managed to find enough clean plates and cutlery.” Terry added, “Set it up on the table, too. Grab a seat, or look for some spreads if you want.”

“Not the brown leaf sauce.” Asadullah added, working away at a ball of dough with single-minded intensity, “That won’t go well with it. I tried some of it and its awful.”

“How dare you, what did maple syrup ever do to you?” Jared asked, tipping a bottle of the warm pancake topping into his mug of coffee.

Tench snatched the mug out of his hand, “Yeah, you don’t deserve coffee or maple syrup.” He told him gingerly, reaching over to pour the sludge into a flowerpot. In a flash, Terry had darted over to block the mug with his arm.

“Don’t ruin the plants.” He warned, “Every single pot is used to further my experiments. Or used to grow my future stock of food, once the supermarket’s supply runs out.”

Ben was almost impressed, “You’re planning that far ahead?” How far ahead would that even be?

“More than a decade into the future.” Terry replied, as if he could read her mind, “Maybe more, but I haven’t been able to calculate exactly how long meat and foodstuffs stay. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t start learning how to farm at an appropriate rate.”

“Well, now you don’t have to deal with that now!” Jared rebuffed him, “You’re one of us, now.”

Terry frowned, looking around in confusion, “I am?”

“Of course.” Asadullah confirmed, “You’re going to save the world with us.”

The boy looked like a teal deer stuck in headlights, tucking his hands into his pockets as he began to mutter, “I… don’t know if I can do that. You’re going to go back outside soon, and it’s not safe outside.”

Silence. The hustle in the makeshift kitchen area screeched to a halt as they all turned to stare at him. It was expected, considering that they were all here specifically for Terry, and they were hedging all their bets on this guy. But the extra attention wasn’t helping him, as Terry withdrew into his oversized sweater in front of their eyes.

“I’m not… I’m not… I can’t.” His mouth snapped shut, eyes watering in obvious discomfort. This was unravelling quicker than she expected. They needed to do damage control.

Her eyes immediately snapped to Jared, who should be the one handling these situations. Yet, the boy was also frozen, looking completely taken aback. He wasn’t going to be much help. Maybe he hadn’t even considered the idea that someone wouldn’t want to save the world.

“We’re going to keep you safe, okay?” She decided to say instead, “I know it’s scary, but you have to do it. The rotters aren’t going to be anywhere near as scary when you have a person at your back.”

Terry didn’t say anything, biting at his lips as he kept his feet fixed onto his neon shoelaces. His hands reached up and began to sign, clumsy and shaking as neon green letters popped up under them.

“I can’t do this.” He explained, turning on his heel and rushing out of the expansive room.

There was silence as everyone stared at each other. Verity’s porridge was smoking and smelt just a little bit burnt.

“Fuck.” Tench whispered, burying his head into his hands, “This isn’t going how I expected it to.”

Ben could agree with that feeling. Her ears felt as if they were filled with cotton, blood rushing through her like a raging inferno. She didn’t want to be mad. This was an understandable way that Terry was feeling. He was entitled to be like this, after hiding for years-

But every other part of her had already come to a conclusion: Terry was a selfish brat, putting their own wellbeing ahead of saving the world.

He was so close to creating a cure for the zombies. To saving Ben’s brother. And he wasn’t even going to try.

“We’re need to fix this.” She announced. Her brother needed Terry’s cure.

[Player Log End!]