Reluctantly Antoinette leaned down and picked up the gun and one box of ammo. She never shot a gun in real life, but this wasn't real life. Still, in most games guns reloaded themselves. She held the Colt in one hand and the ammo in the other. She waited for the magic to happen, but there was no ping of success. The bullets didn't float from the cardboard box to the chamber of the gun. She brought her hands together and touched the box to the cold steel of the weapon, still nothing. She was going to have to do it old school.
Fuck this game!
Antoinette used her foot to slide the remaining boxes of ammo and the knife off the pulsing circle. She wanted to make sure that there wasn't a time limit before the game took the stuff back. Looking at what the circle produces\d, she wasn't exactly thrilled with a revolver and a knife, but it was a hell of a lot better than a stick and a rock. She picked up the extra boxes of ammo and put them into the pockets of her cargo shorts. It was a tight fit, but she managed to do it. She left the knife on the floor and walked back to sit on her bed. She was happy that she opted for Weapon smith as she was able to load the revolve quickly.
She felt comfortable with the process of loading the SAA Colt, so she retrieved the knife from the floor in the other room and brought it to the bed. She looked around for something she might be able to make a sheath from, but there was nothing. Maybe she could cut off part of her boots and use that? She took off a boot and inspected it, determining if the boot would retain any semblance of structure if she cut off strips of leather. After minutes of turning the boot over in her hands, she realized that she was using it as a distraction.
She calmly pushed the butterflies down from where they threatened to put her into a state of panic. She left the knife on the bed and walked to the next room with the metal door. It was only a game, right? She walked until she was standing in front of the metal door and stopped. She carefully slid the revolver down the front of her shorts; the steel was cold through the thin material of her underwear. Not for the last time she wished there had been a choice of weapons. If there would have been a choice, Antoinette was convinced that the Colt would have been the last one chosen.
Cautiously Antoinette reached out and touched the metal door with her palm. A humming sound filled the room, and seconds later the door sunk into the floor. Behind the door was a very primitive hallway. It appeared to be made of concrete poured in molds to make it look like blocks. It had the feel of a basement hallway you would find at any high school. Long fluorescent light fixtures decorated the ceiling at approximately ten foot intervals. Some of the fixtures were dark, while others were dim or flickering. The limited light didn't provide her with much confidence that something wasn't waiting to attack her.
She walked past an EXIT sign to her left that led to the stairwell and approached the closed elevator doors. Antoinette wondered if she was supposed to take the elevator or the stairs. Was there a right or wrong answer? Who was waiting on the elevator? What about the stairwell, it was a place she could easily get trapped. Fuck it, she might as well try the elevator; maybe there was good music.
She pressed the button for down and pulled the revolver from her pants. If there was something on the elevator, she wondered what would be the best way to stand and fire her hand-cannon. She knew it wasn't really a hand-cannon, but she loved the way the words sounded together. In the end she opted for the classic Angie Dickinson stance from Police Woman. She spread her legs shoulder length apart and extended her arms out parallel to the floor. She held the Colt in one hand and used the other to steady her aim. She remembered that her accuracy was Novice so she was going to have to use an expenditure of ammunition to stop whatever might be busting through those doors.
Antoinette was so nervous that as soon as the door opened she squeezed off several rounds into the empty elevator car. The sound of the gun firing was almost as surprising as the kick from the gun. Even though it was a small gun, she wasn't ready for the kick from pulling the trigger four times in quick succession; she attributed it to her mediocre strength score. Unless she could find a way to increase her strength, what was going to happen if she found a real gun? She might get one round off and have to recalibrate her whole body to fire another shot without shooting it harmlessly in the air.
While she worked to slow her breathing, she pulled some ammo from a box and made sure the chamber of the gun was full. Satisfied, she replaced the extra ammo back in a pocket. It took her a second to unlock her knees and be able to walk to the waiting elevator car. She was almost there when the doors started to close. She darted forward and was able to slide her arms between the doors to trigger them to open again. Once inside, she put her back to the wall and looked at the tree of buttons. There was only one real choice, she pushed the 'L' button and the door slid closed with a hush.
As the elevator car started its slow descent, gears creaked and squealed above. If the cables snapped, she wondered if she would survive a fall from this height. The interior of the elevator was in tune with the feeling of disrepair of the hallway. One of the ceiling tiles was gone and Antoinette couldn't take her eyes off the darkness above, waiting for something or someone to drop down and attack her. If this was going to be the mode of transportation to her safe zone, she was going to have to find a way to block that off.
She arrived at the lobby without incident.
The doors opened and she peered out. She tried to get as much information as possible before leaving the safety of the car. It looked like the elevator opened to a very non-descript large room. Maybe room wasn’t correct because the space was the size of a high school gymnasium. Large windows, near the top of the opposite wall, filled the space with sunlight. Antoinette stepped from the elevator with the Colt extended in her right hand. The size of the area made her feel small.
”Hello,” she called, using her inside voice. She wanted to let people know she was there without actually letting people know. When no one responded she knew she was going to have to try again, only louder.
”HELLO!”
This time she used her outside voice and the only answer was the echoing of her greeting. Well fuck, what was the purpose of this area? There wasn’t a vendor or health station or anything useful, unless the area would start to fill the more she explored the city. Hopefully there was a deli and an armorer. Her mind wandered to other shops that would fill her wish list.
Seeing no immediate threat in the area, she started to walk across the concrete floor towards the exit. Her boots made soft taps on the floor with each step. After she was a third of the way to the doors, she lowered the gun. She rolled her shoulders to release some of the tension that built up from the stress of the morning.
The warmth of the sun filtering in through the large windows felt good in her skin. She didn’t feel as lonely walking in the sunlight. Everyone knew sunlight was a symbol of protection from most things evil. There were countless examples in movies and books where sunlight saved the day. She trusted information in books and movies, it was only things on the internet you needed to be wary of.
Antoinette took several more steps forward and she was startled by the sounding of alarms. A loud siren filled the area, reminiscent of the air raid warnings from WWII. With her heart pounding in her chest and sweat forming on her forehead, she gripped her gun and turned in a slow circle. If she saw movement of any kind she was ready to fill the threat with six slugs of hot death.
A woman’s voice filled the room:
”WARNING! YOU ARE LEAVING THE SAFETY OF THE TREASURY. EXIT AT YOUR OWN RISK!”
Walking towards the exit of the large vacant space of her safe zone, Antoinette felt pretty good about what was going on. The sun shone through the windows placed high on the wall she was walking towards. She thought the sunlight must be a portent of some sort. The sound of John Denver filled her mind, and she started singing “Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy”.
She thought again of his tragic death. She wondered how many times Mr. Denver had done the exact same process with his fuel tanks, only that fateful day in 1997 things didn't go as planned. He was 53 when he died; too fucking young for John Denver.
The exit looked like a lot of entrances she had been through in her life. There was a large revolving door centered in the wall, with no other access points. If this place was to be her safe zone, she wondered briefly about the strength of the doors. Antoinette remembered people moving outside, but were they a gang? Was she going to walk into some demented version of West Side Story? If that was the case, was she located in the heart of Jet territory? Maybe she was to be a Shark; one of her favorite movies was 'Jaws'. She wondered how much the game knew about her, not that it really mattered. Her first point of business was to find a real weapon.
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She arrived at the door and tried to look through the tinted glass; it reminded her of the glass in bathrooms where you could see through, but not well enough to sneak a peek at who was in the shower. Was the glass like this to keep her from seeing out, or from things seeing in? If it was the latter, what needed to be kept from seeing in? Maybe there was a medusa wandering around and the glass kept people from getting turned to stone. Whatever the reason, she knew she was going to have to exit the building or she was going to go crazy thinking about what was out there. She could try to take the stairs to another level and look out a window, but that would mean she had to climb steps, and no sane person chooses stairs over laziness.
Antoinette moved into the open pie shaped chamber of the revolving door and her movement triggered a sensor that brought the door to life. It slowly spun counter clockwise and she kept pace until she was able to exit. Once outside she realized that she was in a small vestibule. The walls of this small area were also made of glass, only this time she could easily see what was beyond the safety of the transparent barrier. The only exit from this small area was a sliding glass door activated via motion detection.
She walked to the glass, careful not to trip the sensor and looked out. On the street were a lot of cars, most in a state of disrepair. Some were overturned while others connected by twisted metal from being slammed together. She couldn't see anything moving other than the random piece of trash blown by an invisible wind. Antoinette continued to look while she considered why she needed the weapon for? She couldn't see an immediate threat, and if there were other humans around, did they also have weapons? If they did, and something better than her Colt, which was pretty much anything, she was going to be D-E-D Dead. Gathering her courage, she tightened her hand around the grip of the Colt and slid in front of the door. The doors separated and slid open; she was free!
Antoinette wasn't sure what to expect when she got outside, but nothing happened. There was no fanfare of any kind for this momentous achievement. Well, it wasn't so momentous; it was just leaving the safety of her house. No, that sounded so boring. She needed to come up with a name for her home. Nothing came to mind right off the bat, but she would contemplate a name and christen it somehow. Until she had an epiphany, she would just refer to it as the Safe House.
She stepped outside with the Colt pointing at the ground in front of her, her trigger finger out straight to make sure she didn't discharge her weapon by accident; she had to save as much ammo as she could until she found more. The air didn't feel different from inside the Safe House. There wasn't radiation burning her skin, which was an immediate relief. Being in a situation where your health begins to count down until you find a cure is the worst for any gamer.
Happy that she wasn't fighting for her life, she kept close to the wall of the Safe House and started moving to her left. She reached the corner of the building without seeing anyone or anything moving. Where the fuck was everyone? Maybe this was a beginner zone, where you got funneled to a certain point, making some small achievements on the way. If that was the case, she was all aboard.
Carefully she peered around the corner, but it just lead to a dead end alley; jackpot. If she knew anything, alleys were always the spot to find some loot. She peered down, but all she could see was a couple of dumpsters and a door to the next building over. She slinked down the alley, keeping to the wall opposite the dumpsters. If something jumped out, she wanted to make sure that she had time to take aim and squeeze the trigger until the shells were spent.
The closer she crept, the more excited she became. She had done enough fucking around, time to start finding something to improve her situation. She put her hand on one of the black plastic lid of the dumpsters and threw it open. It crashed against the brick of the building, and then fell back down. In the brief second the lid was up she peered inside, but didn't see anything at all. There was the rank, sweet smell of rotten garbage, but nothing else. Cautiously she opened the lid again. She looked and looked, but the dumpster was empty. Disappointed, she let the cover slam back down, that's when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.
A figure walked to stand at the opening to the alley. From where she stood, he looked like a beggar. His clothes appeared dirty and he was only wearing one boot. His must be old because his stance was a bit stooped. A black wide brimmed hat hid his face in shadow. Maybe he was an NPC that was going to give her a quest?
"Hello." She called softly. She waved her hand in the air in the well accepted signal of friendship.
The figure apparently didn't notice her until she called. He turned his head sharply, almost mechanically. The way the figure moved froze her hand mid wave. Something wasn't right.
"Hello, can I help you?" She called louder. Antoinette wanted to make sure he heard her. There wasn't a reason to lose the chance to uncover a quest that would help progression just because she was nervous.
The beggar turned his body to face her, and started to run. He ran towards her like he had a purpose. Several seconds passed as she was frozen with indecision on what to do. Over those seconds he cut the distance to her in half. Now that he was closer she could see that part of his face was exposed, like it had been scraped off. The sight was frightening and she felt a cold chill grip her spine.
Another second passed and she realized that the beggar's purpose was not to offer her a quest, but to kill her. There was no way that she was going to get killed only minutes out of the protection of the Safe House. Antoinette raised the Colt with two hands to steady her aim and squeezed. The first shot whistled over the beggar's shoulder and he kept running like he didn't care someone was firing a gun at him.
She fired again and another miss.
Fuck!
The closer he came the easier it should be to hit him, but also the easier it would be for him to grab her. She was sure that she would lose any type of hand-to-hand combat with her measly 10 Strength. She cursed for not bringing the knife with her.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Antoinette fired three more shots hit him in the stomach with the first, his shoulder with the second, and the third grazed his hat. The two hits slowed him, but didn't stop his determination. She only had one bullet left. She exhaled and made herself one with the Colt. Calmness flowed through her and she pulled the trigger. She was so in tuned with what was happening she was able to watch the bullet exit the gun on a mission of destruction; like she was in the Matrix. The bullet closed the gap between them in seconds and sailed right over the beggar's head.
"What the fuck!" She screamed in frustration.
She could feel the sweat of panic cover her body. She gauged the distance and knew there was no way she could load the Colt in time. There was only one place to hide, she lifted the lid of the dumpster and climbed in. Her body hit the hard bottom and her legs splashed into a shallow pool of slime. Antoinette turned and moved to the corner furthest away from him. She made sure not to sit; she didn't want slimy garbage juice seeping into her clothes.
Seconds later something slammed into the dumpster and her ears rang from the impact. There wasn't time to relax to get her bearings. The creature started pounding on the cover. With each strike of the creature's fists, she could see a tiny crack start to form. Antoinette reached into her pocket for ammo and used the light form the emerging crack to reload her weapon.
Initially she thought about firing through the metal of the dumpster, but thoughts of Han Solo in the garbage compactor on the Death Star flashed through her mind. That's all she needed, get killed from ricocheting bullets before she even found one treasure. She might be a novice in this game, but she wasn't an idiot; she did have an intelligence score of 17.
The lid of the dumpster was quickly losing the fight with the beggar. This was her chance to take advantage of his distraction. She got to her feet, but stayed hunched over to not alert him to where she was. She started the countdown in her head, working to build her courage.
Five.
The crack in the plastic lid was becoming substantial.
Four.
A two fisted strike from the beggar split the lid in half.
She stood up and pushed her lid open with her left hand; her right hand had the Colt aimed directly at the beggar. She pulled the trigger and the first bullet hit the beggar in the neck. She pulled the trigger over and over again. Bullet after bullet struck the beggar in the face, but being this close to him she knew he wasn't any beggar, his face looked like it was rotting off his skull. Flaps of skin moved and chunks of bone flew as each bullet found home. Her vision flashed and she noticed that her player info was on a mental overlay and she saw her XP increase by 10.
Now that she could see her pursuer, she knew what he was, and he wasn't a he at all. He might have been a he when he was alive, but zombies were more dead than alive. This wasn't a zombie that you fought in a Dungeons and Dragons campaign; this was a zombie like in World War Z. That probably meant that other zombies might be drawn to the sound of her gun. She jumped out of the dumpster and looked towards the entrance of the alleyway. Sure as shit, she could see two humanoid things moving in her direction.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
She knew there was only one way she might escape; the door in the alleyway. She turned and ran until she slid to a stop in front of the gray metal door. There was a handle with a keyhole. She tried to turn the handle, but wasn't surprised when the handle didn't turn.
The sounds of something inhumane drew her attention to the two approaching zombies. She fumbled in her pocket for more ammo and loaded the Colt. While she loaded the pistol, she contemplated on if she should try and shoot the lock or the zombies. With her pathetic accuracy from her first encounter, she opted for steel against steel. She lined up the Colt and pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped into the keyhole, but didn't do enough damage to free the lock.
It took two more shots before she was able to turn the handle. She took a quick glace and the zombies were close, but not close enough that she needed to engage them right now. She entered the building and pulled the door shut. The inside of the doorway was dimly lit from an EXIT sign, but there was enough light to see a bracing bar for the door. She shoved the barrel of the gun down the front of her shorts and felt the burn of the hot barrel. Her vision flashed and her Health was now at 11. Ignoring the pain, she lodged the bar into place. Once secure, she took two steps back and waited.
Seconds later she was rewarded with the frustrated banging of the zombies against the door. She was safe; at least for the immediate future.