Golden Row

Red Zone

1800

Back before the war, the golden row earned its name for the density of high-rise buildings rented by banks, companies and conglomerates. Chic boutique shops, jewelry stores and Michelin starred restaurants lined the avenues below. Now, the immaculate streets that would have been parked and traveled by expensive cars, sidewalks walked upon by the upper crust of society are now bare, covered with rubble, broken glass and extremely dangerous.

A corpse lay strewn in the middle of the street, face down, with a thin coat of dust covering his clothes. A figure darted from one of the buildings, its wide glass windows long blown out, and headed towards the dead man on the street. Shoulders hunched, rifle in his hands, he looked around the buildings looming over him with suspicion but went on ahead and nudged the corpse on the shoulder.

A gap toothed grin crept up his face as the body didn’t move. He laid his gun on the ground then unslung his backpack, laying it next to the rifle. The man then went on to go through the corpse's pockets and his bag, coming up with trinkets, bits of food and a bottle of clean water. He stashed it on his bag and searched for more only for him to pause. Feeling watched, he slowly looked over to the far building, eyes widening as he recognized a partial silhouette inside one of the restaurants. The man tried to get up and run but was too late. A round snapped and hit him in the forehead, punching a small hole and spraying shards of bone and mushed brain matter off the back of his head.

“I told you it wasn’t clear.” Arthur muttered, flicking through a grime covered diary they looted off a scavenger rooting around the back of the restaurant.

“We've been here for a while. Of course someone’s going to come by eventually.” Marcus replied, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the side. Shortly after they entered the raid, Marcus had started to have the shakes and so he had to smoke so as to not suffer much more punishing penalties regarding his character addiction. As he lit up, the cigarette's stimulant effect kicked in causing his heart rate to run faster which has an adverse effect on his aim.

It wasn’t as bad; given that he could easily mitigate it by bracing his rifle tighter on his stand as he took aim at the distant Scav. Looking outside, he scanned the surrounding windows for any changes but found nothing but the constant breeze blowing and the silence of a dead city.

“You should be glad with free kills whenever you get it.”

“That’s one way to say that I just shot another person in the head.”

“You’ll get used to it. Just keep in mind that they're all just codes and pixels.”

“I think I already am. I think I could see the point in that quote back then, something about its good thing that war is so terrible or else we'll all grow to like it too much or something."

"That's from Robert Lee. It is well that war is so terrible, otherwise we should grow too fond of it."

"Yeah, that. War is hell."

“Sherman. Not trying to put him down, but him saying that war is hell is just plain wrong. War is worse than hell. In hell, people you find are the ones who deserve to be there, sinners. There’s no kids and good people in hell. But war, War doesn’t care whether you're there fighting for your home, or there to take someone else's, or just caught up in the fighting. You're all part of the suffering, starvation, disease, violence and death. Shit.”

"I guess you're right." Marcus simply muttered, simply accepting since what the hell does he know? He then looked over to his friend and saw him still engrossed over the diary on his hands. "What's so interesting about that diary anyway?"

"Usually nothing, but sometimes, they contain some intel. Like this here, says some serious looking guys have been seen around the area. Says he's been watching them but can't find enough people to try and take them out." Arthur replied, flicking to another page. "And here we go, a sketch of the map. Conveniently. And it's close."

"Finally. So we moving out?"

"Mmm. Hmm. But first, equipment check before we go."

"Like we haven't done it many times already." Marcus scoffed, but followed anyway. He unslung the M4A1 Sopmod in a block II configuration Arthur gave as a gift. It was suppressed, along with a holographic sight with a co-witnessed 3x prism magnifier, PEQ-15 laser/illuminator attached to the quad rail handguard along with an extra light and a foregrip. He tested the light, and lasers, along with making sure that the batteries were all fresh.

He patted his vest, filled with 8 magazines, grenades, flashbangs and smoke. Level 4 plate inserts covering both front and back along with a level 4 shield generator attached to his hip, rated to withstand 10,000 joules of energy which is roughly equal to 3 rounds of 7.62x51mm NATO, powered by a disposable energy cell. It's also able to trickle charge lost capacity through a combination of absorbing solar energy and body movement using panels and a light weighted rotor, like the ones used in watches. He had a water bladder on his back attached with a hose and his pack, filled with extra water, food, ammunition and extra bags to carry loot, and an extra 200 round nutsack for Arthur.

Arthur was armed with a m249 saw, in the paratrooper version with a collapsing stock, shorter barrel, and a holographic sight. He changed from the tourist-operator style he had from back at the armory and changed to a more practical gray digital pattern, the same camo pattern Marcus is also wearing now. Arthur also equipped the same energy shield and plate carrier set up although in a different pouch configuration which was filled with grenade pouches and an extra nutsack on top to the one already loaded to his gun and a couple more on his pack.

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The caliber and set up commonality was something that could not be understated. It allowed Marcus to dip into Arthur’s ammo in case he runs out and vice versa. On top, the common gear allowed for easier friend or foe identification along with giving Marcus an easier time having access to Arthur’s gear in case the situation calls for it. He would know where the grenades, and medpacks would be located, right where he had his.

Arthur finished checking his gear the same time as Marcus. He looked over to his friend and both nodded, coming together and performed equipment checks on each other, making sure that none was missed. "I'll take front." Arthur said and led the way to the back of the restaurant, past the scavenger corpse they had killed and paused by the open door leading out to the rear of the building. He looked back at Marcus and nodded.

Marcus nodded back. With Arthur having much more time spent in game than him, it was expected that he take the more dangerous end of their two man stack. Arthur peeked his head outside, signaled an all clear, then sprinted out of the room and into the alleyway. Marcus noted his path as he crossed the open space and disappeared behind one of the many steel dumpsters.

A second later, Arthur popped back out of cover and waved him over. Marcus sprinted across just as a distant shot rang out, followed by automatic gunfire. The shooting stopped shortly, giving Marcus only a rough estimate on where it came from. Moving forward, Marcus found Arthur standing by a corner, peeking and scanning the route ahead. He then stepped behind his friend. Reaching over, he patted his shoulder.

Traveling a couple blocks took them thirty minutes. Careful was the way to go with the amount of places another player, scavenger or raider may be hiding. They sat at the back of a boutique lingerie store with its product having been passed over by any prospecting scavenger. Across the street was their target, a glass building much like the others with a central atrium visible from the street, illuminated by sunlight peeking from a central skylight.

Glass crunched underfoot as they cross the street to enter the center lobby. Behind it was a waiting area couches and planters containing long dead decorative plants and a non-working fountain, the water being long evaporated leaving a layer of grime.

Marcus looked up at the sky line to find staggered platforms giving a good view of the building's atrium. He imagined how it would have looked with the platforms populated with plants and lit up by the interior lights. "Place looks empty." Marcus muttered.

"Most of them are." Arthur replied. "But some contain stashes. Problem is finding them. Diary says it's here, somewhere around the third or fourth floor."

Walking by a large pillar, Marcus glanced at a floor plan and found the stairs. The floor plan sat recessed in the wall on its frame, it would be useful to have it with them so Marcus reached over to take it off only to find that it was well secured. They would have to go without, and so Marcus studied the plan, and tried to put it into memory, noting special care of where the fire exit, stairs and even the elevator shaft just in case they ever need it.

“Hold up. How are we going to do this?” Marcus said, looking over at Arthur. "You didn't even get to that part, especially on how we would go about this with just the two of us."

“CQB. close and brutal.” Arthur replied. “We're facing AI here and not real people so expect them to be easier and harder at the same time. They won’t have human cunning but they can keep up with numbers and aim.”

“Fuck.” Marcus muttered. “And here I thought you actually had a plan.”

“Bitch, the plan is that we prepared ourselves to be able to handle situations like this with as little plan as possible since most of the time you don't have any at all.”

“Right. That's just you bullshitting around that you have no plan at all.” Marcus said, already thinking of losing the gear. The M4, along with the rest of the gear Arthur gave him was not bio locked, and so about a 100 percent drop rate on death.

“Just like life. Half of it is just winging it. Ready to move out?” Arthur asked. "Sink or swim. I need you to show me you got this so I could vouch you in."

Marcus looked at his friend for a second longer and sighed, nodding. It was the main reason they went out in the first place. It turned out that Arthur was asked for someone of a certain level and skill for a job coming up. Arthur was being purposefully vague, but he confessed that he wouldn't be able to take it so he thought he pass it on to someone else. Being a friend, Marcus was at the head of the list but he would have to first convince Arthur that he could measure up.

At first, Marcus had to spend a few hours running around the ship, trying to finish delivery and other miscellaneous quest around the ship, giving him easy experience and credits. It was enough to get him to break to level 5, nearing level 6, which was the minimum level to which they could get into the red zones. Red zones are areas where there are much higher AI and loot spawns along with PK being fully allowed, along with heightened equipment drop rates. PKs in the red zone also were not broadasted on the global kill feed and so would minimize the chance of retaliation among players outside the zone.

The two headed to the stairs and into the dark, Marcus taking the lead. The light from both the atrium and the skylight could only reach so far. Flicking the weapon light for a second was enough to have a snapshot of what was in front of them, allowing them to navigate while minimizing their light signature and avoiding alerting anyone else inside the building.

Reaching the stairs, they slowly headed up, rifles pointed at the lip of the stairs as they could only hear the background sounds of the city; wind and silence broken by distant gunfire. As they reached the landing between the second and third floor, Marcus felt Arthur's hand on his shoulder.

Marcus didn't dare ask what's up but instead kept his rifle aimed up the stairs. He, along with Arthur, had an electronic headset allowing certain ranges of sound frequencies to be amplified while filtering out loud and background noises.

He strained his ears to which he heard the faint, but recognizable crunching of concrete. It was measured and steady, footsteps. Waiting in the dark stairwell, they listened at the sound of an incoming hostile, confident, unaware.

Marcus's heart raced. 'This is it.' he thought to himself. 'It's go time.'

"Do or do not. there is no try." Marcus whispered, and Arthur snorted.

Steadily, he headed up, just as the footsteps paused. Marcus stopped, only to feel relief as the footsteps continued, getting farther away, fading until he couldn’t hear them anymore. Continuing, they reached the third floor. From the landing, Marcus could see a hall running both to the left and right. It was as dark as the rest, but with weak candle light coming from the right.

Sidling by the corner, Marcus peeked the right hall and quickly pulled his head back. From the meager light, Marcus saw a man turn and enter a room. He saw gear from what little he could see of his silhouette. Vests, helmets and a rifle clutched on his hands along with a pistol in its holster.

Pulling his head back, Marcus looked at Arthur and muttered. "I saw one, I don't think he looked like any of the Scavs I've seen."

"Gear?" Arthur asked.

"Yeah."

“How good are you at low light fighting?"

“An eighth of my shooting time is at dusk or night.” Marcus replied.

“Looks like these aren’t Scavs, but raiders. They are the level up from the rabble and are heavily armed and are very deadly. The thing is, they give a lot of exp and loot too which means that’s a plus, the question is whether we can take them, whether you can take them. Because I’d be completely fine if you decide that we should just stick to the usual Scavs and level you up from there.”

“Why are you even asking me that? You should be the one to know whether we could.”

“Yeah. the odds I’m coming up with is around 40-60. Not really the odds you want to take if you prefer going home.”

“And a large exp penalty upon death.” Marcus muttered. While he wouldn’t be affected due to him being under level 10, Arthur would have to take the level hit if they decide to take on more than they could handle. “You lose the most if we fail here. You decide.”

“Fuck it. Were already here.” he said, reaching over to his vest and making sure that equipment were secure while being loose enough so he could easily pull them out of their pouches. Marcus did the same. “Just remember how we practiced and we should be fine.”

“And if we're not?”

“We’ll, we die. I lose my shit and exp. Both of us gets exp penalty and blocked from earning it for a few hours and I wouldn’t be able to recommend you to my connect.”

Marcus paused, sparing a second to look over to his friend and see that he’s serious. He appreciated how much Arthur was risking for doing this favor for him. Marcus didn't want to put them into necessary risks, but he didn't want to disappoint him either. “Better not die then.”