Chapter 6 – DAY ONE

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I wish I could say the evening was smooth and pleasant. It was not. What I knew about interacting with others had been pretty much limited to mimicking empathy and other emotional responses with women as needed to get laid, and then everything else being the usual military focused male-centric dominance program with guys. So, maybe there is a touch of truth to any complaints anyone might have about my lack of suavity when dealing with the two ladies earlier. Or, there may be some legitimacy regarding the crudity and vulgar descriptions when previously discussing my earlier interactions and relations with Destiny and Delight.

But, hey, when it comes to that shit, I’m the guy with the mop.

Anyway, after DeSantos found us a good hiding spot in the woods, we drank and ate cold rations. Then it was some quiet back and forth, all very well handled on my part I might brag.

Overall, though, it was a minus, plus, minus, plus kind of a night. I got a solid mouthful of turd regarding my ability to interact with civilian females outside of attempting to hit it, and they got their opportunity to snack at the shit trough when I explained my perspectives.

One take away, for me, was the decision on my part to speak to women in almost all ways in the future, barring combat or operational environments, as if they were ‘my-mother-the-pastor-librarian-senior-officer-writing-my-eval.’

Pro tip. Shit has worked so far from that point forward.

Ah, there is also that thing about nobility and being a true gentleman I’ll have to cover later as well. That had a big impact on the plus side of how to treat people also.

Anyway, one minus was that I entered the pussy desert for a few days. I got put on an immediate diet. Totally sugar-free, zero calories. No biggie. Been drier for longer, but it sucked much with Delight’s sweet, delicious, succulence so close and yet so far.

One plus was that feeling the strong lack of love, my mind was able to focus on doing what needed to be done, and not on some feeble romance crap. What needed to be done was sleep, so I jumped right on it.

Another plus came later that night when DeSantos was on watch. We had rolled into cloaks and bedded down. Luis and I were going to split the watch because neither of the ladies had either weapons or experience in fighting for real. So, they were between me on one side, sleeping, and DeSantos on the other, awake and on watch. The goal while on duty is to simply stay awake and just observe for threats.

That night was my kickoff, the starting bell, whatever. The magic happened to me and I finally, truly, got the gamer spirit. And, the first step in solidifying my relationship with Delight started.

I think. It may have begun sooner without me knowing about it. Not sure. Anyway, I got points. I got in-game XP and badass American war stud points with the ladies. Serious street cred. Which, considering my fucking background, experience, and rank, should have already been a given.

Nope, women gotta see that shit in person. Can’t take anybody else’s word, like multiple citations for valor from the US Military, that I’m a walking embodiment of Death on two crooked feet.

Anyway, we were all sleeping soundly when DeSantos called out. Before I even understood we were in the shit I had leapt up from where I rested, spear grasped in my right hand, and my shield couched on my left. I was snarling without thinking, crouched above the women, ready to attack or defend.

Oh, damn, the miracles just rained down on my dumb ass.

The stars twinkled above and the radiance of the waxing moon provided only enough light through the trees we sheltered under to dapple the darkness with even more shadows.

I heard DeSantos grunt and the sound of flesh being struck with steel. All I knew was what my senses were reporting. My ears picked up the slightest rustling of leaves behind me, my nose caught a rank scent. I felt … something I cannot describe. I simply knew there was another threat nearby, a wrongness approaching my back.

“Damnit,” I whispered, “I really wish I had my night vision.”

And I could see. Holy shit, I could see. It was better than those four tube night vision systems we have in the special operations community. A blend of thermal, short-wave infrared, long-wave infrared, and high-end ambient light gathering. I could have read a fucking book if I had wanted to.

I looked to where Luis was locked up in a fight, with what I couldn’t tell, but I could tell shit was going either-or for him at that moment. Looking over my shoulder behind me, I saw the slowly stalking figure of what appeared to be a zombie hyena. Super quiet, no noise, no groans or shuffles. Just a steady stalk towards me.

It was only about fifteen feet away when I turned. Of course, that was when the girls woke up. I mean, all this shit had been going on for at least two or three seconds, and they’re just now rolling out of their cloaks.

My tone brooked no dissent or evasion as I told them, “Stay down and don’t move. We got problems.”

Naturally, as soon as I opened my suck, this thing bears its nasty fangs. Still no noise, but I knew bad shit was inbound.

“DeSantos!” I shouted. “Got a dead dog lurching my way back here. Whatcha got there?”

“Pretty sure it’s the same thing, El-tee. Can’t really see shit.”

Anticipating his happy surprise, I said quietly, “I wish DeSantos could see in the dark.”

You remember that scene in the original Star Wars movie when Han Solo is trying to get away in the Millennium Falcon, and when he and Chewy try the hyperdrive it just makes some sort of ‘fuck this, no way, whewn-whewn-whewn’ noise and fails?

It was just like that, minus the sound effects. I got a solid feeling that my attempt to spread the wealth to Luis was a no-go. But, I had to check.

“DeSantos, can you see yet?”

“What the fuck? Hell no I can’t see. I just told you that, sir.”

Fuck my life.

No more time for bullshit, hyena zombie’s coming in.

Now, I’m okay with spears, especially the dory of ancient Greece. I mean, I’ve fought with them in the past, done some training. Mainly by getting my ass beat like a red-headed step-dog by a guy who only ever fought as a hoplite using a dory. Obviously, that actually qualifies somewhat as training. You’re going to pick up some tips when taking a well-done ass beating. Not a lot, so a spear isn’t my go-to when strapped for ancient battle.

The cool thing about spears is that they’re really long, so you can punch out hard, let the shaft slide through your hand as you guide the tip into your target.

Damn. Sounded like I was writing prison porn.

I’m not, of course.

Regardless, that’s just one technique to employ a spear and extend your range, particularly if you want to use it to lose it then grab your number one tool of destruction. Which, in my case, was my sword.

You’ve got to understand, the xiphos or something like it is something I fought with. A lot. It’s kind of like the early version of the Roman gladius, only Greek. Short sword, double-edged, pointy. All that shit. The long and the short of it is I used to could fight sword and board with one of these for hours, back in the day. I was viciously good with mine when I fought competitively and expected to be viciously good with this one now.

Executing my planned attack as soon as the zombie shuffled its dead ass into the edge of my range, I thrust my dory at its head, letting it slide and glide out of my hand. I completely released my grip and saw the blade puncture deeply into his chest.

Oops. Missed.

I sort of expected nothing to happen, so I was pleasantly surprised when it took a stumble.

The beast came right back on track immediately, but that fraction of a second allowed me to sweep my xiphos from its scabbard as I moved into my sword fighting stance. Left leg slightly advanced, crouched a bit with my shield held out, partially open and forward. I was locked and cocked. I suspect I would have appeared pretty badass to anybody watching. Which, unfortunately, they weren’t.

I’m pretty sure the monster did not know I could see, and had probably never fought any human that could see at night. It just kept coming with that creepy silence. As it recovered from the spear blow, the hyena appeared as if it was shifting into a crouch to perform a leaping attack.

When I saw that move by the monstrous beast, I took a jump-step forward as I turned my shield edge downward, punched hard with the shield across its muzzle, As I drew back my shield my sword was already in motion in a quartering cut toward its head.

The entire fight, from the release of my spear to the follow-through of the slash of my blade, lasted maybe a full second. Second and a half tops.

It’s lucky for me that I have had years and years of practical training and fighting with swords and shields. Yeah, my shield-sword combo one-shotted the hell out of that hyena. That’s what developing perfect accuracy will get you. Perfection.

Zombie equals headshots. I’m not some idiot who keeps putting bullets or stab wounds into the body of a zombie, and then dies wondering what happened. Seen all the movies, read all the books, and watched ol’ Rick Grimes take care of bidness season after season.

So, you can imagine how much I freaked out when, as all my strikes were going into play without my conscious thought, my vision was suddenly obscured by colorful screens popping up so that I could no longer tell what in the fuck was going on around me.

You have demonstrated Spear Slide, a Skill Level 4 technique. Your SPEAR Skill advances to LVL 4 – 0% to LVL 5.

CONGRATULATIONS! You are awarded 0 XP for learning a new technique. You are awared 0 SP for advancing a skill.

CONGRATULATIONS! You have struck the Revenant Κροκόττας for 4 points of SPEAR damage. FIGHT ON TO VICTORY!

You have demonstrated Shield Punch, a Skill Level 2 technique. Your SHIELD Skill advances to LVL 2 – 0% to LVL 3.

CONGRATULATIONS! You are awarded 0 XP for learning a new technique. You are awarded 0 SP for advancing a skill level.

CONGRATULATIONS! You have struck the Revenant Κροκόττας for 9 points of SHIELD damage. FIGHT ON TO VICTORY!

You have demonstrated Quartering Overhand sword stroke, a Skill Level 1 technique. Your SWORD Skill advances to LVL 1 – 0% to LVL 2.

CONGRATULATIONS! You are awarded 0 XP for learning a new technique. You are awarded 0 SP for advancing a skill level.

CONGRATULATIONS! You have struck the Revenant Κροκόττας for 29 points (CRITICAL) (3 points overkill) of SWORD damage. FIGHT ON TO VICTORY!

CONGRATULATIONS, MIGHTY HERO! By your might and skill you have slain the (LVL 3) fell beast and are awarded 39 XP + 5 (bonus for no point loss) + 39 (bonus for critical hit kill-shot) x 2 (bonus for solo kill)

TOTAL XP: 166

Ack! Motherfucker!

I jerked backward and almost tripped when I stomped on Bonita’s ankle, and she screamed.

Bright, brilliantly so, notification windows were popping up in my face like Jack-in-the-boxes and stacking.

I couldn’t see a damned thing.

No matter which way I moved or turned the shit was still blocking my sight. And the color combinations. Shit. Who mixes painful purple and biohazard green, or even dark red with green? Aside from my boys, the USMC on that red-green thing. So, nevermind that complaint. Good call on that color combo. Semper fi and all that.

Anyway, with a sword and shield in my hand, I couldn’t even figure out how to gesture and clear the screen.

Fuck my life.

I could feel myself edging quickly toward uncertainty. Being suddenly unable to see threats in the middle of a battle, at night, with zombie fucking hyenas, while guarding helpless chicks will do that to a man. Okay?

As every good military leader knows, fear is the mind killer. Courage is one of the paramount traits of leadership. Allowing fear or panic to guide you always leads to disaster. Fear can be heard in your voice with a shake or a tremble, or just a tone of uncertainty. So, to lead effectively, fear must be ruthlessly crushed in its infancy, never to grow and mature into that child of failure and death.

My ability to see having been wantonly blocked by silly bullshit, I took a calming series of breaths. Through skill and experience with killing people, I had a high degree of confidence I had at least killed the monster, which allowed me that mental space to take a step back.

FUCK! I’m blinded by glowing billboards designed by blacklight loving hippie crackheads and still have a fight to get in.

In a fury, threw my sword down and swiped the screens clear.

I thought, ‘Wow. How un-cool. Apparently, all I have to do is disarm myself in the middle of a battle so I can see what’s going on. There has to be a better way. I’ll delve into that later, but right now I have a fight to complete.’

Actually, I’m kind of making that part up about what I thought. I really don’t remember with that level of detail, but it sounds pretty close to what I do remember.

“DeSantos,” I yelled, “I’m coming in on your left.”

I heard more grunts and strikes as I approached.

Luis was locked in a whirlwind of strikes and blocks, crouched down behind his shield and swinging wildly with his spear every time the hyena crashed into him with jaws or paws.

Clearly, Luis couldn’t see, and the Revenant seemed intently focused on its battle.

I stalked up to the shield side of DeSantos and took my stance where I would have a good angle of attack. I edged and moved with the flow of the fight, knowing a crease of opportunity would eventually develop. In battle my sense of time appears to dilate, things slow down, and I have extra seconds, it seems, to decide my approaches and positioning.

The monster curled its lips back, exposing a massive fang-lined mouth, and lunged again toward the top of DeSantos’ shield. Without consciousness, a reaction without thought, honed to strike on instinct ingrained by tens of thousands of swings, my sword hand punched forward, curling outward at the wrist, giving whipcrack speed to the sword’s tip as it slashed behind the zombie hyena’s right ear and continued onward through the skull, destroying its brain, then slashing outward.

Yeah. That’s right motherfucker. Die again for good.

The angle of the swing was such that just as the blade completed its arc and the monster’s skull popped open my sword bounced lightly into DeSantos’ shield. All planned at the speed of thought, so no harm to Luis. With that single swing of my xiphos directed back through the forehead of the monster, my blade sundered the skull in two. Gushes of putridness fountained out to splash across us both as the corpse slammed into Luis’ shield and knocked him down.

Fuck.

You have demonstrated Reverse Snapping Punch Curl sword stroke, a Skill Level 6 technique. Your SWORD Skill advances to LVL 6 – 0% to LVL 7.

CONGRATULATIONS! You have struck the Revenant Κροκόττας for 168 points (CRITICAL HIT!) (123 points overkill) of SWORD damage. FIGHT ON TO VICTORY!

CONGRATULATIONS! You are awarded 0 XP for learning a new technique. You are awarded 0 SP for advancing a skill level.

CONGRATULATIONS, MIGHTY HERO! By your might and skill you have slain the (LVL 3) fell beast and are awarded 42 XP + 5 (bonus for no point loss) + 42 (bonus for critical hit kill-shot) TOTAL XP: 89

Luis screamed, “Help! He’s all over me. I’m down, I’m down.”

“Relax. He’s dead, DeSantos. I split his head open like busting a watermelon.”

“Motherfucker, El-tee. Shit. I had him, you kill thief.”

I guess being a Mustang, prior enlisted that becomes a commissioned officer, gave me the flexibility to know when it was time to jump a junior’s shit for perceived disrespect and when to let it slide. I knew Corporal DeSantos was a good troop and was speaking from his gamer perspective and not as an enlisted man addressing a superior officer. So, recognizing that fact, ‘in-game’ was the venue to which I played.

By cocking my head all the way back far enough that the neck of my helmet was digging into my spine, I was just able to see under the notification windows. I could make out DeSantos laying on the ground, coated in filth, just peeking in frustration over the top of his shield.

He started gagging from the horrific stench of the zombie brains we were both liberally coated with.

I admit, I was getting a bit thick in the throat as well, but pushed on. Marine Corps. Oorah.

“Bullshit, Luis. How many points did you hit him for?”

“Only the one point of damage, but I was working him down.”

I decided that standing in, or in Luis’ case being sprawled out in, the awful offal of the recently re-deceased was anti-buena. I stuck the hilt of my sword into my shield hand and reached down and helped DeSantos get up.

When he gained his feet, he took a sort of half-step back and raised his shield.

“El-tee, why are your eyes silver and glowing? And what are you doing with your head all pulled back? It looks like you’re some sort of attack bird fixing to peck my face.”

I considered my response carefully. Ignorance coupled with guesswork will often lead one astray.

“Got night vision. That’s probably the deal with the eyes. Are they glowing brightly enough to pose a potential tactical risk?”

“No, sir. About like Ranger eyes on the back of our helmets. Well, you know. Our real-world helmets.”

“Well, good to go. Let me know if you identify any potential risks in the future. That shit aside, I need your help. These fucking notices keep popping up, and I can’t see a damned thing. What can you tell me? I had to put my sword down earlier to clear them away right after I slaughtered the first one, but I’m leery of having to do that shit all the time. What are you doing to handle it?”

He stepped closer and seemed about to answer.

Damn, it smelled like a charnel house with no air conditioning after a week in a Texas July. We needed to move immediately, or I was going to start blowing chunks.

“Walk with me, Corporal. We need to check on the girls.”

“Sir, what about the loot drop?”

“What loot drop?”

“Right there, sir.”

Even with my head cocked all the way back I still couldn’t see. I know I looked like some mind-twisted squirrel searching madly for his nut as I spun, ducked, and weaved trying to see the loot drop.

“Sir, hold on for a second. Look, drop your sword for a second and use your free hand to access your screen. Swipe left until they are all clear. Then …”

It took a couple of minutes of explanation and experimentation before I was able to get the setting right so that combat and other battle related notices would be placed, what I thought of as ‘cornered like fucking rats,’ as small blinking icons just at the top right of my vision. Very unobtrusive.

“Thanks, Luis. Appreciate your help.”

“No, problem, sir. How about the loot?”

Yeah. Loot. Game on.

We stepped closer to the gut-wrenching pile of corrupted flesh and saw the twinkling of a reliquary, the light from the stars and moon reflected from its metallic surface as it spun slowly above the corpse.

I reached out, touched it, and it broke apart with a tiny, dim, display like a firework explosion seen from miles away.

Three items materialized in mid-air as if they sat upon an invisible table.

I saw a small pouch, a bronze dagger, and a tightly wound scroll.

Luis was not only extensively more experienced with game systems and processes in general, but had apparently invested quite a bit of time and focus on deducing some of the standard processes and mechanisms within our new reality.

“Whoa, that’s cool.”

“What is it?”

“Sir, you need to look at each item and, sort of think loudly, the word ‘Identify.’ This shit is so fucking cool. I can’t believe it.”

I could hear the smile on his face as he spoke. I grinned to myself in return and thought, ‘Yeah it is.’

I followed his guidance and concentrated on the word ‘identify’ as I stared at the bag.

30 Gold, 42 Silver, 66 Copper.

I simply thought, ‘yes,’ and the bag disappeared. I got a new, gold-colored notice blinking in the upper right corner of my vision. I focused on it and saw that I had received the blah, blah, money.

Cool.

Next!

1 Bronze Dagger. 1-25 damage. Durability 4/15.

DeSantos said, “Damn. Seems kind of OP for a dagger.”

“What’s OP?”

“Overpowered. Normally daggers only do up to four or five damage.”

I wasn’t really thinking, just sort of going with the flow of what was happening, so I answered truthfully.

“Not really. I beat a guy to death once with a rock. Only had to hit him in the head twice. If a rock can kill you that easy, it only makes sense a designed weapon can do big damage also. It’s always about accuracy and placement.”

I just barely caught his surprised stare. I shut up and moved on. I thought, ‘REJECT,’ and focused on the scroll as I said, “Reject the blade, Luis.”

Scroll of Weak Fireball. LVL 3. Damage 10 per second. Duration 4 seconds. Cost 40 mana. Cooldown 120 seconds.

When the information for the scroll appeared, DeSantos actually squealed, like a little girl at Disney World when she first sees Cinderella. I've never been, but I do have the abililty to imagine, alright?

“Eeeek. Oooh, oooh, oooh. Me, me, me, me. I want that. That’s for me, right?”

I had to laugh and said, “Take it.”

I concentrated and thought, ‘REJECT.’

It immediately disappeared, and I heard DeSantos laugh.

“That’s right, bitches. I’m a mage, and I got the shit. ‘Flame on,’ motherfuckers.”

“Enjoy, Corporal. I do want the dagger to go to either Bonita or Delight. I don’t like them being totally unarmed. What do you think?”

“I’ll accept it, then. I think it should go to Bonita, sir. She’s a pro-gamer. She knows her shit. I’m not sure about Delight. I think she’s probably a deficit being only an occasional player.”

I, a ‘non-gamer,’ looked at him.

He stared curiously back at me. Suddenly he realized what he’d said and how it could be taken as grouping non-gamers into some sort of loser category.

‘Uh, ah. And Delight has zero combat experience, which is way, way more important in my assessment sir. No shit, I mean that.”

I considered his input.

“Works. Bonita gets the dagger. Make it happen, Corporal DeSantos.”