Chapter 8

My life as a newly minted Marauder started off as boring as possible.

I went to bed.

Ask any shift worker who has survived it for more than a few years and they will all say the same thing. If you’ve got the chance to sleep, take it.

Anyone can burn the candle at both ends for a little while, but to survive and thrive you need to get your rest. You’re gonna need it especially since it regenerated my health points (One per night as long as it was good sleep. A short 2 hour nap didn’t do shit for either my Health Points or my mood)

Waking as the sun went down, I began my new ritual. A candle lit, 30min on the orbitrack, (Cardio Baby!) it was simple, repetitive movements that didn’t take much thought or coordination and gave me time to look at my new ‘Class’. I had been simply classed as a ‘Armsman’, but now it read ‘Marauder’. ‘Weapon cross training’ was now readable, but greyed out. I tried clicking on it but nothing came up. The biggest thing of interest was that level 1 went from 1000 experience to 1500, but I now had a granted status point. Forums on the ‘net declared that assigning one point to one of my stats would raise it, and would become immediately faster, stronger, smarter, etc. Many other ‘Net voices insisted that it was two points required, and that assigning one would not give any benefit until the other point was assigned.

Like many things, there were as many opinions out there as there were assholes.

Leaving the status point where it was for the moment. I put out the candle, washed up, and then it was off to the internet to see if I can hook a fish or two for some long-term con. I chose something simple. Portal weapon ‘familiarity rentals’ for those without a weapon. The premise: you get to hold, be near, and maybe even train with a real Game weapon and the system will eventually grant you one. I had the weapons to spare and only the stupidest of stupid would believe it; so I didn’t feel bad about ‘renting’ one of them out for a few bucks.

Cup of coffee, packed dinner, and we were off.

I opened the door to Jay’s angry face.

“Fucker!” She screamed, trying to pummel me with silly little girl punches. “I thought you were dead!” she yelled again as I stepped back to avoid her nonsense and flailing.

“I’m very much alive, thank you. I’m going to work so either get in the fucking truck, or wait here for me in the fucking morning.” I said more calmly than I felt. The bitch and her friends had left me to die alone in there.

She decided on taking the car ride, and I had to listen to her story of being scared and fighting off zombies, and of the death of Darren, and leaving Phil and I behind for the entire 20 min drive through mostly empty streets to Xavier’s. It seemed like she never paused for breath once and I had to stop myself from slamming on the brakes and slapping her silly.

I did learn a few things though. It was the guys idea to overturn the bed onto me when they found out that they couldn’t carry me. Darren died a little while later when he speared a zombie in the chest but didn’t kill it. The zombie ran itself up the shaft of the spear and grabbed him before the other four could get to him. The dumb stoner didn’t have the brains left to let go of the spear before he got grabbed. Idiot. Just a little training and he would’ve known he could have run away, then recalled his spear to inventory before pulling it out and started stabbing the thing again. Hmmm recall to inventory. I wonder if that works when I steal someone’s weapon? Probably not, but it’ll take some investigating. I was poking around Jay’s inventory as she kept talking, only half my mind on the drive.

Phil got bitten when a group of crawling zombies (who I guessed got knocked down by Jay’s fire balls) grabbed him while he was fighting a standing one. He didn’t see them coming and the shin guards had held up for a bit, but they swarmed him and bit his legs a bunch before he could be fully dragged away.

Her story was, that they killed the ones that were immediately threatening them, then dragged Phil off to tend his wounds in a safer area. They’d barely plopped him onto a bed before the ‘Ghoul’ started chasing them. The three of them fought a retreat, then one of the other two must have touched her as they exited to the start room, dragging her along. They couldn’t return to the level and so they exited and were all distraught at losing half their team.

Or at least, that was the story. The timeline didn’t seem to fit as the Ghoul should have gone hunting for the injured once the rest of the team escaped. It had seemed smart enough, at least smarter than the zombies.

I pulled up and tossed her the keys. “Phill’s dead, bled out just after I found him. Pick me up at 7:30” I said curtly. I didn’t buy every part of her story, and I was still pissed that they’d left me but not pissed enough to make her walk home. I was letting my little head override my big head.

Stealing a single Silver, and having one last glance at her inventory I hopped down out the truck. I needed time to think and my first instinct to simply steal all of her stuff and then kill her, was at best, short sighted. Turning, I scanned my prox card at security and entered the locked facility.

“You lose a fight?” came a voice from in front of me.

“Hunh?” I grunted.

The guard at the body scanner looked me up and down. “Well you sure don’t look like you won!”

In the change room I glanced at my neck and face. Where the small cuts and large bruises came from, I can’t recall. I did look like I’d been on the wrong end of few punches. Even the back of my hands were bruised.

“Christ lad!” Gerry exclaimed when he saw me. “Did her husband find ya?” and he laughed until he started coughing.

I exhaled a couple of expletives and grabbed my cart. First nightshift of the month was always ‘kitchen deep clean night’ and a colossal pain in the ass. The fact that we had to work in a team of three did nothing for my mood. All I got to hear all shift was jokes about all my many, many sins coming home to roost. The rushing of the steam lances drowned out the other assholes and I just focused on work and how sore I was.

’You too busy to go to room 148?’ was texted to me just before dinner.

’Never too busy, but I ain’t at my best’ I sent back, glancing at the time and realizing I’d left my ‘other’ supplies in my locker. ’forgot to bring supplies’

’never mind that! I need it’ And when a woman sends something like that, your little head takes over and you just rush off.

Room 148 was convenient because it was isolated, full of clean sheets, and had a door with a deadbolt that was keyed on both sides. I’d installed that myself in the middle of a remodel during my first months here. I opened the door and found Colleen putting down her phone. I glanced at it, ensuring it wasn’t recording or transmitting. I didn’t trust her, but I sure liked pound’n her on my dinner hour.