Battleforged: Survivor: A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure - Book 1, page 1
BATTLEFORGED
SURVIVOR
M H JOHNSON
Copyright © 2023 by M H Johnson
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and events are the work of the author’s imagination and all locations are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons or events is entirely coincidental.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Thank You
Additional Links
1
“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”
Eric smirked at his own foolishness, daring to hunt down giant-sized rats in the dead of night in a city as dangerous as this one with nothing more significant than a pointy stick. He shivered when a cold gust blew past him, the narrow alleyways of Gilton city acting as wind tunnels whenever there was a northerly breeze. He was definitely feeling the weather tonight, even with the leather jacket he wore. At least his gloves protected his hands from the cold as he prodded a particularly suspicious-looking mound of trash with his spear.
His nose wrinkled at the sickly sweet stench of decay as he made his way through a trash-strewn alleyway filled with ruptured bags picked clean by desperate survivors and the prey he was hunting. He took his time and stepped carefully, having nothing to light his way save for the brilliant stars flashing like jewels overhead displaying all the colors of the rainbow. It was a dazzling sight that would have filled an earlier, more innocent version of himself with awe and delight.
Before the world had ended.
For just a moment, Eric wondered what it would have been like if the heavens had changed without every electronic device worldwide abruptly shorting out and nearly every type of compound storing significant amounts of potential energy, such as the bullets within every pistol and rifle, and the bombs within every jet fighter and battleship, instantaneously exploding. It had been a gunshot heard around the world, temporarily deafening nearly everyone while destroying good portions of countless cities and pretty much every military force and law enforcement branch worldwide.
If there was one tiny blessing, it was that the world hadn’t erupted in a nuclear holocaust, and that humanity hadn’t been devastated by leaked viruses from bio research labs the world over. At least with cold storage now a thing of the past, those bio samples had all decayed and advanced germ warfare was no longer something that people had to worry about. Or so Eric fervently hoped.
The only advanced technology left intact seemed to be AM crystal radios, now dominated by pirate stations and jockeys quickly making names for themselves as they tied humanity’s frayed strings of society together, for all that their accounts of what had happened, both to the world and humanity, grew increasingly dire.
Eric would never forget the way his mother’s flawless features had frozen to stillness and hard-eyed focus the moment a loud crack echoed through the hotel he and his family were staying at. A crack that had been followed seconds later by a deafening boom as every battery, oil tank, and boiler room in the city simultaneously exploded.
Yet it wasn’t fear he had seen in her gaze.
It was anger.
Emerald-green eyes crackling with a towering fury had frozen him where he had stood, making him utterly oblivious to the phone that had been rapidly heating up in his grip.
Certainly, the way she had instantly reacted, tearing the phones free of both her children’s hands and tossing them aside before they burst into flames, had been that of a woman able to think on her feet. Quite unlike most of the other guests, crying out in alarmed dismay when their fingers were burned or their purses caught on fire from phones emitting high pitched whistles just as they burst into flame. After seeing how furiously the phones shot out gouts of fire and sparks before melting into unrecognizable slag, Eric had thought it a miracle that the entire building hadn’t been set ablaze.
Unlike her dazed children, Aurelia was already sprinting for the staff corridors, her trainer and bodyguards dragging Eric and Elonia in their wake. His sister’s panicked questions remained unanswered as they all made their way ever deeper into the bowels of the hotel. No staff dared to question Aurelia Silver’s no-nonsense glare as she raced for the bottommost flight of stairs before revealing secrets that changed absolutely everything for Eric and his sister.
Eric shuddered, flinching away from memories best forgotten as he focused once more on the here and now.
That was when he heard it.
The unmistakable chittering of rats.
His heart started to race as he approached the alleyway now before him, lit only by the stars overhead and a few stray shafts of moonlight.
Knowing he was just feet away from his prey.
He froze when alleyway he was entering erupted in squeals, suddenly confronted by a trio of massive rodents glaring at him with vicious-looking incisors that practically glowed in the moonlight, as did their beady red eyes.
Eric quickly jumped back. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled at the hostility he saw in their gazes, and he couldn’t shake the sudden suspicion that it was they who had been stalking him.
Immediately sensing his peril, Eric shifted his grip on the haft of his weapon from an overhand casting throw to a two-handed balanced stance. He could only pray that all his hours of practice under his mother’s no-nonsense trainer would pay off now.
Of course, that was the moment his left heel managed to catch and stumble over a trash bag filled with putrefying garbage that now flooded the air with the stench of spoiled milk and rotten eggs. The heart-pounding terror of imminent death nearly overwhelmed Eric when the trio of giant rats took his trip as a signal to strike.
“Leap back, lunge, and get your spear back in crown guard, boy!”
His trainer Vincent’s words rang through his skull as he regained his footing and lunged with his spear, by some miracle actually hitting his target and piercing the flank of the closest rat before leaping back and jerking his weapon free in a spray of blood.
The squealing rats rushed him then. Their need to scurry over mounds of trash bought him just enough time to raise his spear high overhead as he desperately stumbled back from the wicked-looking teeth that would cut through his denim jeans like tissue paper.
“Never forget that your spear is just a quarterstaff with a sharp end. When you’re fighting vermin, nothing beats a club!”
A crack punctuated the sound of furious squealing as Eric slammed his spear shaft against the back of the closest uninjured rat, earning a furious screech as the thing collapsed, which was, of course, the moment that the rearmost rat sprang through the air, its vicious incisors tearing right through Eric’s leather jacket and the denim shirt underneath as he desperately dodged, yanking his arm free of the giant rat’s grip and choking back a curse at the sudden flare of pain.
But he could still hold his spear, and that was all that mattered. The air whistled as he windmilled the shaft of his weapon in a powerful overhand blow that slammed against the final rodent’s skull with stunning force. Not fatal by any means, but it brought Eric the prec
Eric then spun around just in time to meet the hot red gaze of the first rat he had clubbed, upright once more, its head tilted oddly as it chittered and lumbered forward. Eric prayed that the feral madness glittering in its crimson eyes wasn’t contagious as he rammed his spear point into the creature’s throat. The pit bull–sized rat kicked and spasmed with such force that it actually managed to jerk the spear free of Eric’s hands before it finally grew still.
Eric collapsed in a panting heap, gasping for breath while trying not to puke from the awful stench of blood, offal, and rotten garbage.
Long seconds passed before he stumbled to his feet once more, using his spear like a walking stick to help right himself up before quickly checking the haft of his weapon, relieved to see that the ash wood had held up admirably well under the abuse. He then carefully eyed all three giant rats, looking for even the faintest signs of life that would necessitate a final mercy thrust.
There were none.
For just a second, he was filled with a fierce sense of accomplishment. He had actually done it! Killed three clearly sentient homicidal monsters in the heart of the city with a weapon he had trained so diligently with for nearly two years, all for the sake of a movie that would never see the light of day.
It was the furthest thing from the compound crossbows he could now snipe with almost as well as he once had his rifle. Tonight, he had successfully blooded himself in combat with a weapon used in his own two still-shaking hands.
And he had most definitely been fighting for his life.
Despite the rush of adrenaline and his own pounding heart, he was still smart enough to resist the urge to roar any sort of victory cry. In this city he was still just an ant among literal giants, and massive, homicidal rats were the least of the monsters that now stalked the city streets.
Only the burning desire to become so much more than he now was had compelled him to dare this bit of madness in the first place.
“You sure you want to do this, Eric?”
He winced at the memory of Elonia’s worried features of less than an hour ago when their normal practice of hunting far smaller sewer rats with crossbows had transformed into a compelling need to hunt the much larger surface-dwelling creatures above. And Eric had insisted on doing so while using only a knife and a spear.
The look his twin sister had given him had been priceless, with the exact same exasperated expression she had worn on the big screen in multiple teen heartthrob movies that would never play in any movie theater ever again.
Still, she had been supportive, surprisingly so, when Eric had explained why he was so desperate for a successful hunt.
“All right. Makes sense. Especially if they get bigger and deadlier over time. While you do that, I’ll keep a lookout by the overflow entrance. If it’s too much for you to handle, just race back as fast as you can and give me a shout.” She patted her double-shot crossbow with a smirk. “I’ll snipe any oversized rat in time to save your goofy ass, and then we’re out of here.”
“Elonia, you don’t have to wait for me.”
His sister’s eyes twinkled. “What, and miss the chance for a quick smoke break with the breeze making sure Mother Dearest doesn’t pick up on it before I can take a shower?” Her bemused gaze hardened. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you do this alone without any backup at all, Brother.” The look she gave him, both entrancing and intimidating as hell, just like their mother’s, quelled any further words of protest.
“All right. Just promise me that if any trouble comes your way, you’ll dart back inside the runoff tunnel and secure the gate behind you. I can always use one of the other entrances in a pinch.”
Elonia’s features immediately softened into a smile, a few of her golden-blonde curls sneaking free of the woolen cap she wore. “Don’t worry, Bro. No giant city rat is going to get anywhere near me with the perfume I’m wearing, so I’ll be right as rain.”
Eric laughed. “Because my sister’s nostrils are far too upscale for the scents of the sewer, even if it’s more a series of storm drains than anything else.”
“That, and the scent of mother’s own brand means she isn’t endlessly lecturing me about being an idiot with my health after the world fucking ended, even if I’m down to just two cigarettes a day. Besides, it’s better this way. We can snipe the sewer rats at range with crossbows just as well as we used to hunt with our rifles. And they shy away from the smell before coming too close, which makes us safer. As far as the monster rats up here go…” Her gaze grew haunted. “I’d just as soon they not come anywhere near me. But we both know I’m a better shot than you, so if you come running with rodents biting your butt, I’ll make sure you’re home free, even if I’ll be laughing about it till the end of days. Which, let’s be honest, probably isn’t that far off.”
Eric grinned at the memory of his sister’s parting smirk, knowing she’d be chewing him out for days once she got a look at his injury and found out just how perilously close he had come to losing his own life. His smile then turned to a wince when his painfully throbbing arm made it clear that he had immediate concerns to attend to.
Then he froze, realizing what a fool he was being, just standing in the middle of an alley over fresh kills.
Chilled by the sudden sense of something watching him, Eric quickly lurched away from the blood-spattered garbage where he had just finished fighting for his life, even if it meant committing the cardinal sin of leaving his kills where they lay. He did his best to ignore the throb in his arm while making his way down another nearby alleyway as fast as he could. Fortunately, his leather-padded boots made it easy to slink quietly along narrow backstreets thankfully free of the garbage mounds that could be hiding any number of hideous secrets.
Sure enough, in less than a minute, he heard the angrily chittering of rats back the way he had come. Which meant that a fresh pack of predatory vermin would soon be wild with the need to hunt whoever was stalking them… just as soon as they had finished devouring the remains of their kin.
Eric forced himself to stop after quickly scanning the area, seeing no signs of ambushing rats or hunters of the two-legged variety who might simply be desperate survivors more interested in trading for food than fighting, but could just as easily be something far worse.
Only then did he dare to take off his partially shredded jacket and the shirts he had worn underneath. Much to his profound relief, the wounds he had suffered were shallow, teeth merely scraping his flesh as opposed to digging in with bone-crushing force. He shivered with the memory of just how big those massive incisors had been, before hurriedly opening the fanny pack secured to his waist that contained the handful of first aid and survival tools he’d be stupid to go without.
He used alcohol swabs to clean the wounds as quickly and thoroughly as he could, almost welcoming the abrupt fiery pain and biting cold as naked flesh prickled in the chill air, all of which snapped him back into focus and dispelled the shakes he felt before he slapped on gauze and tape and redonned his shirts and jacket once more. He then made sure to wipe the blood off his clothes and spear with a piece of scrap cloth as best he could.
