Dodge Tank: A LitRPG Fantasy Sci-fi (Crystal Shards Online Book 1), page 17
She nudges me. “Okay, okay. Let’s not get too sappy. Come on, read the scroll!”
“All right,” I say, smiling. “But before I do, there’s one more person I’d like to thank. Someone who’s had my back from the very beginning and still does. So, last but certainly not least, I want to say thanks to you, Gil—”
My words trail off as I fail to find her in the crowd.
My heart sinks. Did she leave? My face flushes red with embarrassment as the whole guild goes silent, staring at me. I’m at a loss for words, and don’t know what to do. I try to send her a quick PM.
Me: Gilly?
That player is no longer online.
“I think I saw her disconnect,” Val Helena says to cover for me. “Must be from all the lag in here.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Must be . . .”
“But still, to Gilly!” Val Helena shouts, raising her first in cheer.
“To Gilly!” they all shout together. I echo them half-heartedly.
Then I pull out the scroll, read it, and it disappears in my hands.
You use a Scroll of Shadow Copy.
You have learned the spell: Shadow Copy.
They all cheer again, and I put on a smile. I even cast the spell so they can see it. But amidst all the cheers and fanfare, I’m left feeling totally empty inside. As the new buff appears on my HUD, I suddenly wish that I could become the shadow I’ve cast.
* * *
The guild invites me to continue the celebration at the Saltwash Inn in Swifttide, but I decline. I’m in no mood for merriment. I put on a good front, though, and tell them I’m tired from leveling, that I need to log off for the day. As the rest of the guild filters out, Val Helena hangs back a little.
“Sorry,” she says. “Maybe I shouldn’t have invited everyone. Did it scare her off, you think?”
I shrug. “Maybe . . . I dunno. She’s logged out for now. I’ll probably send her a PM later.”
Suddenly, I feel two huge arms wrap around me as Val Helena kneels and pulls me into an embrace. I’m lost in her warmth for a moment, but then she pulls away and holds my shoulders at arm’s length. “Sorry, kid.”
“What was that for?” I ask, bewildered.
She shrugs, then rises to her feet. “Just looked like you needed one.”
“Thanks,” I say. I almost wish it didn’t end so quickly.
“Try not to let this get you down, Reece. Remember to keep the end goal in mind. You’re doing good. Don’t let this break your stride, okay?”
“Okay.”
She leaves then, and I’m left feeling more confused and conflicted than ever. I contemplate going back to mindlessly murdering dockworkers to take my mind off things. But then I get a message alert, and my heart lightens with anticipation and anxiety both. It’s got to be from Gilly. I open it, but it’s not from her. It’s from the last person I’d expect in the world.
From: Mike
Yo. We need to talk. Like right now. Log off.
Chapter 20: Mike
I log out of Crystal Shards and send Gilly a quick message.
To: Gilly
Hey, I saw you left. ): I’m sorry if Val Helena and everyone else upset you. I really didn’t mean for that to happen. I hope we can talk about this later. Please PM me. I had to log. My brother wants to talk to me for some reason.
*hugs*
-Reece
I send it, and then check to see if she’s online again. She isn’t, of course. Before I log out of the system completely, my thoughts turn to my brother. What the heck could he want? He never sends me messages online. If he wants to talk to me, he usually just yanks me out of my rig.
In that sense, I suppose this is a bit of an improvement.
As I take off my rig, I see Mike in my room, standing there right in front of me! He’s got his usual getup on; baggy blue jeans, a black leather biker’s jacket, and a white t-shirt. His shaved head and corn rows complete the look, making him the ultimate punk-thug poster boy.
“What do you want?” I say. I try to suppress the disdain in my voice, but I’m not sure if I actually succeed.
His face is unreadable, so I’m not sure if I do or not. “Mom told me you got a job.”
This is what he wanted to talk about? I hope he doesn’t interrogate me. Better to play nice and stroke his ego to throw him off the trail. “Yeah,” I say. “I thought about what you said, and you were right. I was wasting my time in the mines. Thanks for helping me to see the real deal.”
My statement must take him by surprise. He looks stunned for a moment. “Yeah, well . . . good, then. Nice to see you’re finally growing up.”
His words hit me like a kick to the stomach. It takes all my wherewithal not to scowl back at him. “Uh huh. Was that it, man?”
Mike lets out a huff and glances over his shoulder, toward the living room. “No, there’s something else. It’s Mom.”
My heart and stomach switch places for a second. “Why? What’s wrong with Mom? Did something happen?”
“No, no . . .” he says quickly, much to my relief. “She’s okay. I just gave her some meds and put her to bed. But I’m going to need you to help her not worry about me so much.”
I raise an eyebrow at that one. “And how am I supposed to do that?”
“When I’m out, just tell her that I called you, and that I’m okay.”
“But you don’t call, man!” I suddenly flare up. “I don’t know where you go, or what you do!”
“And you can’t know, okay?” he fires back. His ferocity frightens me. “Neither can Mom. Understand?”
Mike stares at me intently, with his piercing ice-blue eyes, the same as mine, as Mom. Somehow, his always seem way more intense, especially now. He breathes heavy through his nose for a couple seconds, and then finally eases back some. “Look, man, just do it, okay? It’s not for me, it’s for Mom. Any added stress is just going to worsen her condition.”
I swallow the hard lump in my throat and manage a nod. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Good,” he says. “I got to head out in a few. When Mom wakes up in the morning, just tell her that I left early.”
I nod again. “Okay.”
“I’m going to grab a shower,” Mike says, and then leaves my room.
As I hear him start to kick off his boots, I think back to the plan I had earlier. About following him to see exactly what it is Mike does out there all night. I wonder if I have enough time to pull it off, to print a new coat so he won’t recognize me. Butterflies fill my stomach as the thought steeps. If I was ever going to do it, then now, while Mom’s passed out on her meds, is the best time. And with Mike’s randomness, an opportunity like this might not come along again for a very long time.
I’ve got to go for it.
My heart races with adrenaline as I jack back into my rig and hit up one of the clothing retailers. My mind stumbles and races as I flip through the options. I almost wish this was like Crystal Shards, where you could search by item attribute and just pull up a huge list of + Hide and Sneak items.
I almost pick a long black trench coat, but no. That’ll look too conspicuous. Who the heck even wears those things? It’s not like it rains down here at all. I settle on a dark pullover sweat top with a hoodie instead, and a net interface visor to cover my eyes. The total is 1112 credits, and I spend an extra 10% to fast print it with seven-minute delivery.
When I log out, I hear the shower running.
I slip into a pair of black jeans and manage to get my boots on before I hear the shower stop. Oh crap! He can’t see the hoodie printing. I grab Mutt and Jeff and dash past the shower. I hear him come out of it just as I reach the nano-processor in the kitchen. Inside the box that resembles a pre-war microwave, I can see the hoodie printing, slowly materializing in a neatly folded pile. The timer reads 4 minutes, 37 seconds when Mike lumbers out of the shower and toward his room to dress.
Come on . . . come on . . .
I hear Mike fumbling around in his room and my heart nearly stops when I hear the zip of his leather jacket. The time on the processor still reads 1 minute, 34 seconds!
There’s no way I can grab this thing and head back to my room now. Panic sets in as my mind races to figure out what to do.
I hear Mike start toward the kitchen, so I turn and press my back against the front of the nano-processor, covering what’s inside. When he enters, I force myself to give him a nonchalant nod and pray that it looks natural. “Heading out?”
Thankfully, he doesn’t even look at me. “Yeah.”
Then suddenly, he does. He raises a brow. “The heck you doing?”
“I’m just . . .” My heart thunders in my chest, and I jerk my thumb behind me toward the processor. “Making a snack.”
He stares at me a moment more, and then shrugs. “Just remember what I said.”
“Got it.”
He leaves and closes the habitat door behind him, right as the buzzer for the processor goes off. I grab the pullover and visor from it and toss Mutt and Jeff to the side. I take a half-second to throw on the pullover, and then wait a minute more, to make sure Mike’s far enough down the tunnel.
Then slowly, I open the hatch and follow him outside.
Chapter 21: Secrets
Mike is moving faster than I expected.
I actually have to break into a jog to catch up to him as I enter the main tunnel. It’s late, and the place is deserted as usual. My legs respond surprisingly well. It almost feels the same as when I’m in-game. I put on the tech visor, which has a solid front, and scroll through the options to activate the front camera. This makes them basically transparent to me, giving me an unobstructed view, while concealing my eyes to everyone else. I wait a bit when I see Mike enter the lift station, and then slip in myself just as the elevator doors begin to close.
My heart is in my throat as I catch a quick glimpse of Mike. He’s seated near the front of the car. I do my best to sit as far away from him as possible. I plop down a few rows back, and I don’t think he’s taken much notice of me. If he has, he doesn’t seem to care. Which is good.
The ride down seems to take ages, and I pray we don’t have another load shed.
We arrive at the hub, and I ready myself. Mike gets up as the doors open. I do the same, but I don’t rush forward. I let him take the lead as he gets mobbed by the vagabonds waiting outside. I cut across behind him to steer clear and get a better vantage of where he’s headed.
I shove my hands in my pockets and start to trail him when he finally gets free of the mob. I feel more secure with the added people about. I’ll able to blend in more easily. I’m careful to hang back a good distance, but not so far back that I lose sight of him. Lucky for me, Mike’s a big guy and he has a distinctive walk—more like a swagger, really.
We travel down the same crowded streets I’m familiar with and head toward the clinic. I refuse offers of both drugs and prostitution with a quick shake of my head. We pass the clinic, and the crowd starts to lighten up. I feel vulnerable again with less people. The glowing holograms and neon signs lessen as well, and the air becomes still and quiet. I fall back a bit more to compensate. Mike is used to these streets, and by his personality, I’m sure that if he thought he was being followed, he’d stop and confront the person right on the spot.
Ahead, I see him duck into one of the skyscraper-like buildings that tower into the dark sky. Funny how my brain still thinks of it as sky, even though I know we’re miles underground. I hurry a bit so as not to lose him in the building.
I get to where he ducked into and see that it’s an opening where a large garage door once stood. Inside, I can see garbage and other junk amidst grated platforms and stairways that seem to encompass big pieces of equipment. From my history lessons, I recognize it as a factory of some kind, or maybe a power plant. Before the Builders, places as big as this were needed to make things. Things that a kitchen nano-processor could now produce in minutes.
I catch a glimpse of Mike as he descends down a set of grated steps. I hurry, but move as if I have Sneak on, lightening my steps by walking on the balls of my feet. I’m sweating, something that doesn’t happen in-game. And my heart is racing, too. I change a setting on my visor to increase the lighting. There’s only a few dull LED circuits placed here and there. Down the steps, I come to a walkway that’s elevated a couple stories above a floor far below.
I pause when I see Mike doubling back in my direction, heading toward me, but one level down. The grating is pretty much see-through, and if he happens to look up, I’m done for. I make like I’m using Hide and crouch down, blending into some pipework that’s fixed to the wall beside me.
Mike passes right under me, and I strain to see where he’s headed next.
He descends another flight of steps to the floor below, and I hear voices. Mike’s speaking to someone. I lean over the railing for a better look, but I can’t get a good vantage point. I see some pipework that extends over the area he’s in and wonder if I can risk walking on top of it.
Three pipes run parallel to one another, about half a foot in diameter each. They look sturdy enough to hold my weight and make a sort of bridge. If I can move across them, I’ll be out of sight, yet close enough to see and hear what Mike’s doing. I take a deep breath and go for it, climbing over the railing and onto the pipes. I’ve never done anything like this in my life, yet somehow, it comes easy to me. Maybe my body’s making up for all the years of lost playtime on the monkey bars.
I move like a sloth along the pipework, carefully placing each foot in front of the other to stop the pipes from shaking. I get above where Mike is and see that he is indeed not alone. With him are two other people. I crouch down on the pipes to steady myself and get a better look.
The three of them all stand around something that looks exactly like one of the auto-med booths in the clinic. Except this one is completely horizontal and has a person in it. The glass is foggy, so I can’t really tell if it’s a man or a woman, but they look unconscious.
“Do we know who it is?” Mike asks one of the two men present.
An older man, wearing a beard and a gray boiler suit answers him. “Don’t know the name yet, but he came from L32G.”
“Alive or dead, Bruce?” the third man asks. He’s a slim guy with curly red hair and a suit and tie. Not exactly the type I was guessing my brother would be hanging out with. What’s he doing with people like this?
“Alive for now,” the bearded man—Bruce—says. “He’s the only one we’ve found so far. Don’t know how many more might have chosen to go to the surface with him. We’ll know if we see more bodies show up tomorrow.”
Bodies? My skin prickles. What’s going on here?
“What difference is one person going to make?” my brother says harshly. “We need to get out there. Now. All of us . . .”
“That’s not going to happen,” the red-haired man says.
“Yeah, and you know why, Dennis,” Mike says as if challenging him. “People would rather keep playing their stupid games than face reality. It’s no wonder no one’s willing to take the risk anymore.”
“You have any idea what this place would turn into without Crystal Shards?” Dennis says. “They tried it once. It didn’t work out so well. Don’t believe me? I’ll send you a history lesson they don’t teach on the education feeds.”
What are these guys talking about?
“Dennis is right, Mike,” Bruce says. “Like it or not, it’s the best way we’ve got to maintain stability. We can’t risk everyone going out there. They tried that once, too. It was a complete disaster. It’s best the majority of people just don’t know.”
Don’t know about what?
“So instead, you risk people like me,” Mike says smugly. “Is that it?”
Dennis eyes him, something I don’t expect a skinny guy like him to get away with when it comes to my brother, which tells me he must be holding something over Mike. Money, or power maybe. “You trained for it,” he says. “You have the skills for it. That’s why you take the risk.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t sign up for it,” Mike says bitterly.
“Didn’t you, now?” Dennis places his hands in his pockets, casual and smug. “You had a choice, and you took it. Four times, I might add.”
“Yeah, and you remember that, too,” Mike spits back. “How many other people you got who’ve been to the surface four times and survived?”
Holy crap! My brother has been to the surface? Four times? And what does he mean by, “survived”? Was he exposed to radiation? The same as that guy in the booth maybe? The same as my mom?
“All we’re asking is for you to go out there one more time, Mike. We need someone with experience up there. The stakes are just too high now.”
Mike folds his arms across his chest. “I didn’t have any experience my first time out.”
Dennis sighs. “Look . . . we know your mother is sick. If you do this—”
“Hey! You leave my mom out of this!”
“We can make it happen for you,” Bruce says.
“Oh yeah? Like you promised the last time?”
“You didn’t come back with anything last time!” Dennis shouts. “Neither did anyone else. You know what the ration is down to now? 700k!”
Mike pauses for a moment, as if dumbfounded, and then lets out a caustic laugh. “700k? That’s it? What are you doing with the people who hit the limit?”
Dennis looks down at the guy in the booth. “Stasis, like him. Most of them are happy to spend what they have in the Shards, anyway. In truth, that’s the only thing keeping us afloat right now. But we’ll all end up in there soon enough if things don’t change.”
