Chương 63: 62: The Barricade

I opened the door of the cafe and selected Rift N8E10S#312 from my HUD. Then I stepped out the door, Zelda at my heels, into the rift. I almost stepped right back into the cafe again. Rift N8E10S#312 was a city. And not an appealing city. A gray, industrial-looking, post-WWII, burned-out wreckage of a city. We were standing on a rooftop, the city sprawling before us with zero signs of life. I had no desire to explore. Instead, I turned around.

The Earth gate was behind me, a window to a redwood forest in California. I looked down at Zelda.

"You ready?" She had one ear up, one ear down, which is adorable on any dog, but especially on a terrier. For the first time, though, I understood it was not the charmingly manipulative pose designed to get treats I'd always thought it was. It was a question. And not a simple question, more of an "I am curious about this entire situation, I wish to know more" type of question.

"What's up?" I asked her in reply. She looked out at the city, then up at me. Dead.

"You smell dead things?" I asked her. Smell nothing. She sat down and scratched her ear furiously. Empty. Dead." The city's abandoned?" I looked it over again. It sure looked abandoned. It was an ugly, desolate, urban wasteland. But that made no sense. How could a rift be empty? There had to be monsters here. And then a drone bobbed up from below roof level and took a pot shot at me with a laser beam. It didn't hurt, of course. This was a Tier 1 rift and I was Level 20.

But I tapped [Analyze] to see what we were dealing with. Before I could get a fix on the drone, Zelda trotted over to investigate. Ball? Zelda asked. Flying ball? Good game. She dropped into a hunting crouch, her tail waggling, gaze fixed.

"Don't jump off the roof," I ordered, abandoning [Analyze] to dash after her.

"It's a long way down." Three more drones appeared, floating up and up, taking positions in the sky surrounding us.

"Come on, Z." I scooped her up, tucking her under my arm like a football. Balls! She objected.

"Yeah, but those are balls that want to kill us." Another one took a shot. It had lousy aim, though, and the laser just scored a line in the rooftop nearby. I held [Analyze] and scanned: [Laser Sentry: Level 1], [Laser Sentry: Level 1], [Laser Sentry: Level 1] and one lone [Laser Sentry: Level 2]. I stayed focused on the last one and the tooltip finally popped up. Classification: Autonomous Construct Condition: Optimal Description: A hovering security unit equipped with a low-output directed energy emitter.

Typically deployed in groups to patrol and deter intruders. Yeah, I was not worried about these things. I wondered how the battle was supposed to go, though. If I knocked the little drones out of the sky, would a bigger one show up? Fortunately, my mild curiosity did not require assuaging. I had too much else to do. Still holding Zelda, I turned back to the window onto the redwood forest and stepped through.

"Hold it right there!" A harsh male voice demanded.

"Hands up!"

"I'm holding my dog," I replied, turning to face the voice. Three guys had set up a barricade behind the gate. Two were huddled down behind the barricade, gun tips pointed over, and the third was standing, his gun out and aimed at me. He was wearing a police uniform, but he looked more rumpled than the average police officer, like maybe he'd been wearing the uniform for days.

"Shall I put her down?" I asked politely. [Analyze] was still up in my HUD, so I went ahead and used it on the men in front of me. [Fighter: Level 1], [Guard: Level 2], [Fighter: Level 2]. And back in the trees, hidden enough that I only noticed because of the floating label, a [Scout: Level 4]. Interesting.

"Where the hell did you come from?" the Guard, aka the cop, said, his gun dipping. I kept [Analyze] focused on him for another few seconds. Unsurpisingly, he was human, and his condition was fatigued. [Analyze] also told me that his name was Daniel Mercer. I kept my mouth closed while I considered my response. In general, I like to abide by the policy of telling the police absolutely nothing except my name. They say they just want to ask a few questions? Great, the answer is, "I'd like a lawyer, please."

The only information you're required to give a police officer is your name. Anything else? Get a warrant and/or talk to my lawyer. This might seem unreasonable of me. The police are supposed to be protecting civilians, after all. But… well, 21 st century USA. The police may be protecting somebody, but it's not people like me. On the other hand, Daniel Mercer clearly was trying to protect his town.

Not exactly usefully, because there was no reason to sit on a rift that was nowhere near overflowing, but he was trying.

"Are you one of them?" he demanded, the gun lifting again.

"One of them? What them?" I asked.

"That's just what they'd say," he growled.

"Dan," the Level 2 Fighter muttered.

"They didn't speak English."

"Are you aware that guns are, ah, exploding now? I mean, so I'm told. Obviously hasn't happened to me or I wouldn't be standing here. Holding onto my dog. My clearly cute, Earth-normal dog." I wasn't mocking the nervous cop. Well, not much, anyway. I did want the guys next to him to know the risks, though. I was pretty sure that if he fired the gun at me, I'd be fine. But if it exploded, they could get caught in the backlash. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The Level 2 Fighter stood up. He set his gun down, resting it against the barricade. It was a long gun, maybe a shotgun, although I couldn't see it clearly. Gently, he put his hand on top of Mercer's gun, and pressed it lower.

"No one's gonna be firing any weapons," he said.

"We did hear the rumors about guns exploding, too, but so far as we know they're just rumors. Feels like more rumors in the air than oxygen right now. Have you seen any weapons explode personally, Miss…?" He said the last word with the kind of pause and inflection that's clearly an invitation for you to introduce yourself.

"Olivia," I said, resigned to the need to manage this social interaction.

"Olivia Thorne." I lifted Zelda and added, "Zelda. My dog." I set her on the ground with a quiet, "Stay close." She promptly sat down, almost on top of my foot, with an attentive gaze toward the men behind the barricade. [Analyze] let me know that the Level 2 Fighter was Ross McGreary at just about the same moment as he introduced himself. He followed up his own introduction with, "You came out of that thing, whatever it is. Did you see anyone else in there?" I looked at the shimmer.

"It's called a gate and it leads to a rift. Rifts are…" I paused. I had a sneaking suspicion that this might be the first time I delivered a speech that I could wind up repeating over and over again. I should probably memorize some concise explanation. Right now, though, I'd stumble along.

"Rifts are basically interdimensional passageways between planets. And yes, I know, a week ago, you would have figured I was crazy and called for a psych consult. I think we're a little past that at this point?" I waited, but none of them—neither the two I could see nor the two who were staying hidden—seemed to have a response ready.

"At any rate, rifts are instanced, so unless you go into the rift at the same time as someone else, the only things you'll see in there are the rift monsters." I tilted my head toward the rift.

"Your specific rift seems to have robots, maybe? Zelda thought the world smelled dead, and the only things that attacked us were Laser Sentries. They looked like drones, but they fired lasers."

"You don't look injured," Mercer said, the words an accusation.

"And what do you mean the dog thought the world smelled dead? How's a dog gonna know that?" I kept my sigh internal. Sure as night follows day, if you answer one question from a cop, he'll just ask another. Zelda woofed. I could hear the scorn in it, but I hoped the others couldn't.

"Irrelevant," I said.

"In answer to your question," I directed my words toward McGreary, "I didn't see anyone inside. But that doesn't mean anything, because I wouldn't. I wouldn't have been in their instance."

"So they could still be alive." McGreary didn't say the words as a question, which meant there was no social pressure forcing me to answer. Unfortunately, there was a little internal pressure. When I'd selected the rift, it had appeared on my menu, just like the rift with JJ and Alma had. But instead of listing instances and occupants, only the rift was listed. That meant there were no open instances of Rift N8E10S#312. Or maybe the System didn't know about them because the rift was so distant.

But that was too big a lie to tell myself. The System would have known. Which meant I knew. Which meant I could—probably should—tell them to stop hoping. Whoever had gone into the rift was gone.

"There's not just robots in there," Mercer said.

"People have come out. Mutant people."

"Dan." McGreary sighed.

"You didn't see 'em."

"I did. You say mutant, I say starving. They were just skinny, that's all."

"You didn't see their eyes." Another voice spoke up, the third man behind the barricade. He didn't stand, so I didn't see him, but I let [Analyze] focus on his tag until the tooltip popped up. Joseph (Joey) Carpenter. Human. Condition: Badly injured, deteriorating, approaching critical.

"Hey." I reacted. I took a step forward. Mercer's gun lifted. I stopped moving.

"What are you doing? Why haven't you helped him?" I demanded.

"What?" McGreary and Mercer spoke at once.

"What do you mean?"

"Your friend. Joey. He's approaching critical condition. He needs to level up, fast. Or get a heal from somewhere." I had two healing potions left in my pouch. I could give him one. But what if Jules needed one? What if Jules and Toby both needed one? Ignoring Mercer's gun, I strode toward the barricade, Zelda by my side. Mercer took a couple steps back, still waving the gun.

"Cut it out," I said.

"You're more likely to kill yourself with that thing than you are me." I reached the barricade and peered over. Joey was kneeling on the ground, both hands on his rifle, the barrel still poking over the barricade. His injuries weren't immediately obvious, but he looked flushed, beads of sweat dotting his temples.

"You're hurt," I said, the words an accusation.

"Is it an infection? Are you sick?" He looked up at me and smiled faintly.

"Gut shot." I grimaced.

"How close are you to leveling up?" He shook his head, not understanding.

"Check your experience points," I told him.

"I think it's…" I tried to remember. Level 2 felt like a million years ago, but it had only been a few days. Surely I hadn't forgotten that fast?

"Three hundred. Three hundred XP to get to Level 2. How close are you?" His eyes glazed.

"Two eighty."

"Two eighty? And you're sitting here dying instead of hunting? Lousy choice." I glanced deeper into the redwoods, where the Scout had been hiding.

"Hey, you back there. Level 4 dude. Any chance you have a ranged attack? Not with a gun?" He came out of the trees moving quietly, smiling.

"How did you see me? I've got a stealth class." He was a kid. I wished [Analyze] gave ages, because, really, he was a kid. Maybe fourteen? Possibly fifteen if puberty was running a little slow for him, but definitely not much older than that. [Analyze] did give his name, though: Daniel (Danny) Mercer, Jr. Okay, that was an unfortunate complication. With Joey only needing 20 XP to join the ranks of the miraculously healthy, I'd been hoping we could just pop into the rift and smash a couple of those drones.

I let my hand rest on the outside of my pouch. I wouldn't let him die. I'd give him one of my healing potions before that. But I really would prefer not to. I didn't even know this guy.

"Danny." Mercer's gun disappeared.

"What are you doing out here?" He sounded tired. Not angry, not worried, just tired. Danny shrugged. It was such a teenager thing to do that I had to stifle my laugh.

"Your mom—" Mercer started.

"Is at the school, with the others," Danny finished for him.

"Everybody's crowded into the gym like—" The words were sharp, the pause sharper. Whatever he'd intended to finish with would have been rude.

"Fish in a barrel," Joey said, breath uneven.

"Which is why we're out here, Danny-O. To make sure no one gets to the barrel." I did not have time for this. I just wanted to find Jules. But I was getting a bad feeling. Even if they weren't a town of Murder Hobos, these guys didn't exactly seem to have their act together. Was that unfair of me? Maybe. But they were guarding the rift, when they should have been leveling up. Why was the kid Level 4 when the adults were only Level 1 and 2? What had they been doing for the past four days?

"Listen, I'm sorry to interrupt," I interrupted, before Mercer could get into it with his son.

"But your friend here, Joey, is dying. We can save him by going into the rift and helping him kill a couple of the low-level robots at the entrance. But we should do that now. He doesn't have much time." And neither did I, I wanted to add, but that would have been rude, too.

"The thing is," I went on, "if I try to help him, well, I don't really have a 'do just a tiny bit of damage' ability." I glanced down at Zelda. Maybe she could capture the drones? That was a great idea, actually, except for the part about being on a rooftop. But maybe it was the best we could do. Or if that didn't work, I could drag him back through my RMI and take him to Pen in the Dollar General, see her healing ability in action. We had options.

Heaving a sigh, I walked around the edge of the barricade, and bent down to hoist Joey up. He smelled of sweat and old fear and seeping blood, and I had a moment of ruing all those Perception points, but then he was up and we were staggering toward the gate together. He was a big guy, probably six-two, two-fifty, and I'm sure we looked ridiculous together, like a linebacker escorted by a moderately determined librarian, but I was definitely holding him up.

Behind us, voices were arguing, Mercer's voice raised, McGreary's a quiet undercurrent. I tuned them out. If they weren't going to be helpful, they could just get out of my way. But I paused at the shimmer. They really could be useful, the kid especially. A ranged attack that could drop a drone without killing it meant Joey could stab it or smash it to take it out. Level 1 against Level 1? Even with half-credit, a single kill might get Joey the 20 XP he needed.

"You're stronger than you look," Joey said. He was breathing hard, one hand pressed against his mid-section.

"Welcome to the brave new world," I replied, voice dry.

"Once you're better, we'll arm wrestle. I bet I can beat you." He chuckled.

"Not sure I want to take that bet."

"Probably a good choice." His arm still wedged around my shoulder, I half-turned, trying not to jar him.

"Hey," I called back to the arguing men.

"We're going in. You've got about sixty seconds to join us if you want to help your friend and get the safest view of a rift that you're ever likely to get. After that, it'll be a new instance and you'll be on your own. And, fyi, those laser sentries can't do much to me, but you might have more trouble."