Chapter 10
“Watch your six, Mack!”
“What?”
“Look behind you!” Lynn yelled. The Grumblin that had appeared charged Mack and took a swipe, making red blossom across her teammate’s armor. Mack yelled, tried to spin, stumbled and slashed wildly in the general direction of the Grumblin attacking him with its six-inch claws.
Before Lynn could do anything else, Ronnie jumped in and stabbed the monster multiple times in the back, taking it out in a burst of sparks.
“Mack, come on!” Ronnie said. “What have I told you about situational awareness?”
“Sorry,” Mack mumbled, straightening and brushing himself off.
“You have the same problem in WarMonger. You’ve got to keep track of your overhead map, or you’ll keep getting screwed.”
“I know, I know. I’m trying.”
“Well, try harder. We can’t afford mistakes.”
Mack’s shoulders slumped and Lynn felt a flash of annoyance at Ronnie. Mack was a people pleaser and he always felt awful when he let anyone down. Berating him was totally unhelpful, it made him more anxious and less focused. Dan, on the other hand, could take the criticism—it inspired his competitive side. A good team captain would understand the difference in their peoples’ temperaments and adjust their instruction accordingly.
Too bad she wasn’t team captain—not that she wanted to be, no matter how Ronnie’s heavy-handed tactics drove her insane. But she did do what she could to help.
Once Ronnie pulled forward to rejoin Dan at the head of their little band, Lynn slipped up to Mack and gave him a pat on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry, really. You’ll get the hang of it. Just pay more attention to the sounds. Most TDMs make a sound before they attack and once you can recognize them, it gives you a few seconds’ warning. The Grumblin is a sort of growling roar.”
“Yeah, I noticed that but there’s so much chatter going on I’m having trouble hearing the monster sounds in the background,” Mack said, pointing to his earbuds.
“Have your AI change the settings to put our shared channel on one earbud and background noise on the other,” Lynn suggested. “That way chatter won’t cover up the TDM noise.”
Mack smiled.
“That’s a great idea, thanks!”
“No problem. I probably should have mentioned it to the whole team.”
“That’s okay. You’ve given us a ton of help already. Look how far we’ve come in just a couple weeks.”
Lynn nodded. He had a point and she was surprised to realize how proud of them she felt. Things were still awkward at times but overall they were shaping up nicely. She just needed to watch herself and stop using so much military lingo. The Tier Ones and Twos she teamed up with in WarMonger used a lot of military slang, so whenever she tried to get herself into the “zone” with her new teammates, she fell back on her ingrained Larry habits. That was good on one level: they gave her a much needed edge. But her friends weren’t used to it and a few times she’d come close to using one of Larry’s pet phrases that Ronnie would have recognized.
The last thing she wanted Ronnie thinking about was why she was parroting catch phrases from his arch nemesis.
It was a thin line she walked and it created unnecessary friction. It would be easier if she could come completely clean about her gaming background but she knew she couldn’t. Ronnie would never speak to her again, much less play with her, if he knew she’d been the one humiliating him in virtual for years.
“Come on, you two. Get a move on, we’re not done filling our quota for today.”
Lynn rolled her eyes but Mack grinned.
“Is he always like this when you game?” Lynn muttered as the two of them trotted to catch up. They’d started to avoid hunting directly around businesses and other more populated areas since that was where the casual TD Hunter players gravitated. Instead they were sweeping a stretch of unkempt weeds and grass between a subdivision and an old strip mall. The mall was home to the usual nail and tanning salons, hole-in-the-wall Chinese takeout and a value market grocery for those too picky—or too poor—for normal weekly deliveries from the mobile grocery depots.
“Sort of,” Mack said, scrubbing his chin nervously. “He’s always been bossy but he’s become a whole other level of manic since we started this team. I can’t blame him, though. Just think if we won, how cool would that be? I wonder what I’d do with five million dollars…”
“Yeah, definitely cool,” Lynn agreed, hiding a smile. “But we’ve got a long way to go until then, so let’s concentrate. You’re doing great so far. Just keep your ears open and eyes sharp. And don’t forget, your best defense is to stay light on your feet. Keep moving. TDMs aren’t that nimble, so sidestepping is usually better than backing up.”
“Got it. Thanks, Lynn.”
“No problem.”
Lynn slowed to let Mack pull ahead so she could guard the rear—her preferred position because it put her farther away from Ronnie. He liked to lead the way at the front with Dan while Edgar and Mack stayed in the middle, guarding their flanks. It wasn’t a bad formation but Ronnie and Dan tended to hog all the kills, depriving Mack and Edgar of valuable practice. She’d have to bring it up with Dan soon and get him to convince Ronnie to let Mack and Edgar rotate regularly to point. Ronnie rarely, if ever, took suggestions seriously if they came directly from her. But he’d listen to Dan, even if he knew that Dan was passing along her words. It was stupid, immature and annoying as all get out. But then that was Ronnie to a T. He would be absolutely worthless if he wasn’t so technically proficient at gaming.
Lynn chewed her lip, wondering how long they could get by like this. Would Ronnie ever get his head out of his butt? She really, really didn’t want to have another confrontation. For the moment, she held out hope. They were making progress and Ronnie wasn’t completely insufferable all the time.
Just most of the time.
Without school to distract them, the guys had gotten up to Level 7 in just two weeks. Lynn had to give it to them, they’d all worked really hard, even Mack and Edgar. Of course, the fact that TD Hunter got them all out of their houses seemed to be a strong motivator. She didn’t know much about Ronnie’s home life except that he lived with his dad but she knew Dan and Mack had less than chummy relationships with their parents. Edgar didn’t talk much about his family but Lynn knew he was close to his younger siblings and mom. He had to work hardest of all since half his mornings were spent at his landscaping job.
They all had a rigorous training schedule, from daily solo practice using the app simulations, to team hunting four times a week, to the “strength and agility training” Ronnie had assigned them. Lynn ignored Ronnie’s dictated physical regime. She had her own routine already in place, including a daily stretch and kickfit workout as well as running three times a week to increase her stamina. The running sucked the most. She hated it with the burning passion of a thousand suns. Anyone with sizable breasts knew exactly why running sucked and though she’d broken down early on and spent an obscene amount of money on the best sports bras available, it had made her runs “only” agonizing instead of physically unbearable. Still, the training was helping and the improvement she saw in her performance gave her the motivation to keep at it.
Whatever the guys were doing seemed to be effective too. Edgar’s clothes were getting baggier and Mack and Dan were less and less breathless after each TDM fight. Ronnie had probably started out more physically fit than any of them because of that time he’d tried to get onto the ARS team their freshman year. Lynn had no idea what had possessed him—she didn’t even think he liked sports—but the experience had obviously taught him a thing or two about keeping more fit than his pale skin and lanky frame let on.
The app simulations were doing their job, as well. Dan only clobbered himself with his own weapon once or twice a week now, instead of multiple times a day and Edgar was developing a mean “seek and destroy” mentality. While she and Ronnie favored their Plasma Blades and Dan and Mack were still figuring out which weapon fit them best, Edgar was all about his Dragon—the one-handed scattergun with a close range area effect. He was getting good at letting loose in time to get maximum damage while still leaving him enough space to dodge attacks.
All in all, Lynn was proud of them.
And, she had to admit, it was fun hunting with other people, especially getting to see her teammates in combat. It was freaky how real it all looked, thanks to her top-of-the-line AR glasses. She knew it was just a game. But man did it get her blood pumping and adrenaline coursing through her veins.
Being in a group also made her less self-conscious, once the initial awkwardness wore off. Instead of one weirdo dancing around with a blue sword, now there were five of them. Even better, Lynn had seen on the TD Hunter forum that, due to popular demand, they were finally developing a “TD Hunter Lens” app that would allow people who didn’t want to play the game to still watch it being played by others.
Spectators could don their own AR interface, open the app and see Hunters who were in combat the same way fellow Hunters would, complete with all the monsters and special effects. Lynn was sure the stream channels would soon be flooded with spectator videos. Of course, there were already hundreds of hard-core gamers live-streaming their hunts but watching it first person wasn’t quite the same as seeing it from an onlooker’s perspective where you could appreciate all the moves and visual effects.
“Hey, Hugo,” Lynn subvocalized, so it wouldn’t broadcast on their group channel.
“Yes, Miss Lynn?”
“Any idea when that spectator app will be released so people can watch Hunters in combat?”
“There is no firm release date but it is expected within the next few weeks.”
“Hmm…any idea if any individual hunter can know when they are being ‘spectated’?”
“Not to my knowledge, Miss Lynn. I believe the developers did not want hunters to be distracted with unnecessary notifications while in combat.”
“Humph. I suppose that makes sense. I’m still not thrilled about the idea of videos of me randomly showing up in virtual.”
“Well, you are in public, Miss Lynn. An audience is to be expected. But I’m sure they will all be spectacularly entertaining.”
Lynn’s brow furrowed. Had she heard wry amusement in the AI’s statement? Or had it just been her imagination?
“Whatever. I can’t control it, so I might as well forget about it.”
“A wise strategy, Miss Lynn. Speaking of strategy, there is a gh—”
Her AI didn’t even finish the sentence before Lynn spun and lunged, stabbing the ghost that had appeared behind her straight through the face—a killing blow with the higher-powered Plasma Blade. The ghost burst into sparks and Lynn checked her overhead for more enemies, then scooped up her globe and ichor before turning to catch up with the guys. As she went, she topped off her stealth slot with her freshly collected globe. It had been running a little low, which was why the ghost had been able to detect her. Ghasts were usually the only TDMs that could detect her at any distance when she was fully stealthed. When ghosts started trying to jump her from behind, she knew it was time to resupply so she didn’t start attracting higher-class TDMs that would distract her from providing rear support. She was only one level above her teammates but even one level could make a big difference.
“My, my. Impressive reaction time, Miss Lynn. I don’t know why I bothered trying to warn you.”
“A bit sulky, are we, Hugo?” Lynn said with a grin.
“Hardly, Miss Lynn. I am a service AI, not an emotional support AI.”
Lynn snorted. “Good thing, too. You’d be sucky at emotional support.”
“On the contrary, if those were my parameters, I would perform them to perfection.”
“Uh-huh. Well, thanks for trying to warn me anyway. It is your job.”
“Indeed it is.”
Lynn fell silent, going back to her ceaseless watchful mode. Up ahead Ronnie and Dan took on a pair of demons while Mack and Edgar picked off the two Ghasts that were predictably hanging around in the wings. By the time Lynn caught up, all the monsters had been dispatched and Dan and Ronnie were exclaiming over an augment Dan had picked up. They would reach Level 8 soon and that meant becoming visible to the top Delta Class monsters like Orculls—the best TDM she’d found so far for dropping items—and rocs, an extremely annoying TDM and the first flying form she’d encountered. Rocs were electrovores like the Lectas and usually hovered around power nodes, transmitter antennas and mesh hubs. Thankfully they were a gather type and so didn’t patrol the skies looking for targets. But they usually congregated in groups and were plenty aggressive if you got within range, sort of like a swarm of hornets. They didn’t do much damage but their diving attack from above had nearly given her a heart attack on multiple occasions.
“Whoa! Hold up, guys.”
Ronnie’s exclamation made Lynn’s head come up. She hurried over to the rest of the team who were clustered around their captain.
“Okay, you all keep watch while I take out this unknown,” he was saying as Lynn trotted up.
Now that she was level with the guys, her display lit up with the yellow proximity warning of an unknown and Hugo repeated his “stay put so your battle system can do its thing” spiel.
She looked around Ronnie and spotted the sparkling mist about twenty feet away. The fact that they’d detected it this far out but it hadn’t yet attacked meant it was probably a Delta-4 or lower. Either that, or it was a non-aggressive gather type. While her battle system did its scan, she addressed Ronnie.
“Hey, uh, maybe Edgar and Mack should take it. They need the practice.”
Ronnie shot her a dirty look.
“They can get it hunting regular TDMs. There’s no point taking risks with an unknown.”
The effort it took not to roll her eyes was almost physically painful. She didn’t know what Ronnie thought he was achieving by taking on the unknown solo. They were hunting as a group, so the achievement bonus would be shared between them and they’d all be named in the credits for it. Maybe it was some macho display of dominance?
“Well, if you’re worried about risks, then I should take it, since I’m the most experienced hunter on the team,” she said in a carefully casual tone. She itched to call out his BS but the last thing she wanted was another confrontation.
There was a moment of silence and Lynn could almost imagine she heard teeth grinding.
“Fine. You two, get a move on. And don’t die, will you?”
Edgar and Mack exchanged an uncertain look and Lynn let out a silent sigh of exasperation. Someone needed to explain to Ronnie the difference between “leader” and “dictator.” She waited a moment, hoping Ronnie would do something—anything—useful. But he just folded his arms and raised his eyebrows at his two teammates.
Aaaand, this was why “Larry Coughlin” took so much pleasure trouncing Ronnie in WarMonger. Ronnie took “jerk” to new and surprising levels.
“Hugo? Any new data on the unknown?” she subvocalized.
“Your system scan has found nothing out of the ordinary. The entity is most likely Delta Class-3 or -4 and is not employing any stealth capabilities. Please approach to target range and engage to allow for full system analysis.”
With Ronnie acting about as helpful as a pile of rocks, Lynn forced herself to step forward. She sent a quick message to Dan to keep an eye out for other monsters, then motioned at Edgar and Mack. They followed her a few steps closer to the sparkling mist.
“Okay, so unknowns could be anything at all,” she said quietly, uncomfortably aware of Ronnie’s laser-eyed stare on her back. “It’s best to start with a long-ranged attack to see what they’ll do and how strong they are before you wade in swinging. Mack, you’re the better marksman,” she said, then winced and shot an apologetic look at Edgar, but he only shrugged and grinned. She was glad he wasn’t offended. She was also glad he didn’t know her knowledge of his weapon skills wasn’t just from the last two weeks of hunting but from the dozens of times Larry had gone up against the Baconville Bashers in WarMonger. She knew each of the guys’ strengths and weaknesses more intimately than any of them realized.
“Yeah, so, Mack, why don’t you equip your Plasma Pistol and once you two are ready, target the mist and start shooting as quickly as you can. If it doesn’t move, advance slowly but don’t get closer than ten feet. If it doesn’t die within about thirty seconds, that means it has good armor and one of you will need to engage it in hand to hand. Edgar, you’d probably be best for that, so you should go ahead and use your Plasma Blade. If it charges at you once Mack starts shooting, you can get out in front to engage it and keep its attention while Mack fills it with lead. Or energy bolts, anyway. Make sense?”
They both nodded, looking more determined now and less nervous. It wasn’t as if they were clueless strategists—both were good gamers in their own right. But the “in the real” element of TD Hunter seemed to heighten their anxiety and cloud their ability to analyze situations. It had been the same for her, in the beginning. She just had a month more of acclimating to the stress of battling monsters in the real.
Lynn gave them both a thumbs-up and retreated to rejoin Dan and Ronnie.
“Hugo,” she subvocalized while Mack and Edgar got ready, “I know I usually have you mute your proximity warnings since it distracts me from TDM sounds but there’s going to be so much noise already, I want you to warn me the moment any new TDMs get within detection range.”
She glanced at her overhead, making sure there were no red dots close enough to worry about. She wished there was a way to tell what dot was what but she wouldn’t know which TDM to expect until it got within visual range.
“Dan is a good hunter but he’s too obsessive to not get distracted watching Mack and Edgar. And I trust Ronnie about as far as I can throw him.”
“Very good, Miss Lynn.”
Just then Mack started shooting and things got real interesting, real fast.
Lynn’s assumptions about the unknown went out the window as the sparkling mist shot forward with a blood-curdling scream the moment Mack’s plasma pistol started spitting blue bolts. It was faster than any monster she’d seen yet, even Vargs, and it raced toward them with the distinctive rocking bounce of a four-legged creature. Within seconds it was on Mack and Edgar and Edgar executed a diagonal strike as the unknown leapt at his center of mass. Red flashed across the mist but that didn’t stop the monster from scoring double hits on Edgar’s chest before it bounded away out of range.
The surprise that had frozen Lynn’s limbs passed and she lunged forward to help. She reached Mack and Edgar just as the mist darted in again and got a double strike on Mack before Edgar had a chance to intercept. To Mack’s credit, he kept shooting even as he stumbled back and despite the monster’s speed, he was maintaining about fifty percent accuracy. Lynn took up a stance at Mack’s shoulder, opposite Edgar. She was vaguely aware that Dan and Ronnie had started shooting from where they stood instead of joining into one united group like she would have ordered if she’d been in charge. But she couldn’t afford to be distracted by them.
“Keep turning, guys, don’t let it get behind us!”
That was easier said than done. If it weren’t for the red targeting reticle Hugo had dropped on the unknown, the mist would have been almost impossible to track, it was moving so fast. She was so focused on trying to keep it in her sights that she didn’t realize what was going on until she saw it streak toward—
“Incoming!” she yelled and Dan and Ronnie belatedly tried to switch to Plasma Blades just as the unknown charged them. But instead of attacking them head on, the mist jumped over them, deftly avoiding their lunging stabs. Double flashes of red blossomed on their backs before the TDM darted away and circled for another attack.
Anxiety and frustration burned in Lynn’s chest. This was crazy. They were going to get defeated in detail if they didn’t get on the same page and work together. And heaven help them if any other monsters showed up while they were occupied. Ronnie needed to get his act together and lead!
She switched to her Plasma Pistol and joined Mack in aimed fire as the unknown charged Dan and Ronnie again, landing more blows while they slashed at empty air.
That thing was fast.
“Miss Lynn, there are two enemies moving in this direction.”
“How close?” she subvocalized.
“Based on their speed and trajectory, they will pass close enough to detect your group within sixty seconds.”
Not good.
What should she do? Just keep shooting and hope they survived? Try to get her team on the same page? Would the guys even listen to her if she tried? What if she tried and failed? The indecision made her gut churn.
What would Larry do?
She knew what he—what she—would do if this were a match in WarMonger. Stay calm. Take control of her team. Kill everything.
But this was not in virtual. Here in the real her heart pounded with adrenaline, sweat made her hands slick and her breath came in uneven gasps. Here, her team stood right next to her, real people with opinions and prejudices and faults. People she could let down. People she couldn’t hide from if she made a mistake. Sure, there had been times hunting by herself that she’d managed to channel her Larry mode, sinking into the cool focus and razor sharp instincts that came naturally in WarMonger.
But this was totally different. If she tried to “be” Larry in the real, then everyone would know…what? That she was a liar? A fraud? An overweight, socially anxious teen who was as far from the tough-as-nails, seen-everything-under-the-sun-and-stabbed-it-in-the-kidney professional, Larry Coughlin?
But if they lost the competition, what was the point of maintaining the pretense?
Lynn mentally cursed Ronnie and his moronic, egotistical incompetence. She did not want to lead, did not want to be depended on by people she cared about. She wanted to be left alone so she could have fun killing stuff. That was it.
Maybe if she gave Ronnie a nudge, he would do his job so she could stop having this stupid identity crisis.
“Ronnie, get over here! We need to fight together!” Lynn yelled, adrenaline putting extra volume into her voice as she took another hit by the unknown.
Her yell seemed to get through, because Ronnie gave Dan’s sleeve a jerk and they both ran over to join into one group.
“What do we do, Ronnie?” Mack yelled over the zappa-zap sound of their Plasma Pistol fire.
“Just keep shooting it, it’ll die eventually,” Ronnie yelled back.
“There are more monsters coming, we’re going to get overwhelmed,” Lynn said, resisting the urge to tell Ronnie he was an idiot. If she’d been by herself, she could keep moving, stay out of the monsters’ reach and dispatch each with carefully practiced attacks without anyone getting in her way. As it was, she was already taking unnecessary damage that would pull down her rankings. If she didn’t stay at the top, she couldn’t get the achievement bonus items she wanted so badly.
“We’ll kill them when they get here, just keep shooting,” was Ronnie’s only reply.
Lynn ground her teeth. If she’d been the team captain, she would have had Dan and Mack, their best marksmen, keep up the suppressing fire, would have switched Edgar to his Dragon to bury the thing in damage whenever it charged close and would have had herself and Ronnie go to Plasma Blade to stab upward every time it tried to jump over, thus maximizing damage while minimizing energy waste and health loss.
But she wasn’t in charge. So, instead, she took a knee to lower her profile and shoot from a more stable position.
The unknown paused, perhaps reassessing its now united opponent. But then it gave another chilling scream and charged. Lynn knew from experience that TDMs wouldn’t run straight through you, at least not on purpose. The game’s programming had monsters act as if hunters were solid objects, though the TDMs didn’t seem to mind passing through other things. Regardless, most monsters ran up and kept attacking until either they were dead or the player retreated. Besides ghosts and Ghasts, this was the first TDM she’d engaged that used hit and run tactics instead of a straight on assault.
As the monster rushed toward them, their storm of bolts made the mist turn crimson with flashing damage. It didn’t slow. When it reached Lynn, it leaped, sailing just over their heads even as one of its appendages slashed down to strike Lynn across the face. At least, it would have struck her across the face if she’d been standing right in its path like an idiot. But she was kneeling, tracking it with her pistol as it sailed overhead. Ronnie and Edgar, the tallest of their group, ducked too late and both took damage.
The unknown circled at speed and shot back toward them for a third charge, though the guys got better at ducking in time to avoid hits. Finally, on its fourth charge through a literal hail of plasma bolts, the amorphous mist exploded into a shower of sparks.
“Yeah!”
“Woohooo! We did it!”
“That was awesome, guys!”
Lynn couldn’t help smiling at Mack, Dan and Edgar’s enthusiastic high-fives and backslaps, but she didn’t join in. She was too busy refilling her armor slots—that unknown had packed a serious punch—and listening as Hugo’s voice chimed in her ear that his entity analysis was complete. As he began going over it, a rotating image of the monster appeared in the upper right-hand corner of her display. It was vaguely feline, though covered in scales instead of fur, and sported a low, lithe body, a blocky head with saber-tooth style fangs and a spike-tipped tail. Lynn wondered if it was the spiked tail that had been hitting them when it had leaped over their heads.
“Unknown entity has been designated as a Stalker, a new Delta Class-4. It appears to be—”
“Hey, guys, did you all just level too?” Ronnie asked, his voice cutting through the AI’s rundown.
“Yeah, I did,” Edgar said, popping gum.
“Me too!” Dan and Mack chorused.
And that was when the rocs dropped on them from above like a flock of shrieking banshees.
Everyone instinctively ducked. Only Edgar was slow enough to get a face-full of the roc’s stinger tails that swept down to strike as the monsters pulled out of their dive. Lynn didn’t have time to worry about him, though, because four new dots appeared on her overhead, charging from every direction. Orculls, much like Grumblins and demons, weren’t fast or nimble. But they had four arms and it was a nightmare fighting more than one at a time.
With her Stalker analysis automatically minimized as soon as a TDM engaged them, Lynn had a clear display to evaluate the situation but only a second or two in which to make a decision.
Ronnie, for his part, just started shooting again while yelling at everyone to “watch their heads”—as if they hadn’t already noticed the rocs. He obviously either hoped their energy reserves would last long enough to take out all the monsters without resupply, or he’d forgotten to think that far ahead. He also must have neglected to study the monster index, or he would have known that Orculls had thick armor that was mostly impervious to ranged fire and required melee tactics to defeat. With that kind of opponent, the best hand-to-hand fighters should have advanced to engage the Orculls and give the best marksmen space to take out the rocs and the other dots Lynn could see converging on their location.
But Ronnie, fearless leader that he was, just kept yelling and shooting. Well, if he wanted to get himself and the rest of the team killed, or at least saddle them with horrible stats, there wasn’t much she could do about it. And yelling at Ronnie to do something different at this point would probably confuse everyone even more.
And so Lynn took off at a sprint, charging the nearest Orcull and giving it a glancing slash to one of its arms as she passed, drawing it away from her embattled team. Then she switched direction, heading off a second Orcull that had zeroed in on Edgar. To her relief, both Orculls took the bait and converged on her and the real fun began.
Finally.
With just herself and the monsters in front of her to worry about, Lynn’s anxiety faded and her focus sharpened. She dodged, rolled and lunged, constantly circling to keep the Orculls from pinning her between them. With four long gorillalike arms on their hunched bodies, there was no rolling through them unscathed, so she kept her distance, only dancing close enough for quick strikes at their weak points as she kept maneuvering the beasts to put their vulnerable backs to Mack and Dan so her teammates could shoot them from behind.
It wasn’t quite the glorious, livestream-worthy fight she’d hoped for. She’d certainly made progress from her amateur fighting skills she’d started with in May. But she was already tired from a full day of hunting, so her movements weren’t quick enough to keep her completely out of reach. The Orculls landed several strikes and at one point she stumbled over a patch of thick, tall grass that sent her sprawling into the weeds. Stupid terrain. She cursed and rolled but by the time she’d scrambled up the Orculls were on her and landing blow after blow. She had to sprint to get some distance from them, then turned to circle again.
“Hugo, private channel, sitrep!” she panted, too out of breath to subvocalize. She didn’t dare take her eyes from the Orculls long enough to check on the guys.
“Masters Dan and Mack have successfully dispatched the rocs but I’m afraid they are all taking a beating from the remaining Orculls. It appears that, in the heat of battle, your numerous tactical suggestions have fallen by the wayside.”
“Armor and health?” she gasped and leapt back, sucking in her tummy to avoid a swipe from the Orcull in front of her.
“I do not have access to their status reports. Only Hunters who have passed the qualification tests and formed official teams have the ability to share status reports.”
Well, that sucked. They were all experienced enough to know to keep an eye on armor and health. And there were warnings that kicked in when things got too low. But it was all too easy to be distracted. It was a whole other level of operating, something that people like professional athletes or combat veterans could handle better than even serious gamers like Ronnie. Of course, as team captain, Ronnie’s job was to fight competently and keep an eye on his team at the same time but so far he seemed totally absorbed in the fight. At least when she dared a glance at the guys, she saw that Ronnie had switched to his Plasma Blade and was running interference with the other two Orculls while Mack and Dan shot them in the back. Edgar had switched to his Dragon scattergun and was covering her, which she appreciated despite his limited range.
Lynn lunged, driving her Plasma Blade into one Orcull’s chest as it swung at her. It exploded into sparks and she leapt to the side to escape the four-armed swipe of the second Orcull that tried to flank her.
“Watch it, Lynn,” came Edgar’s voice over their team channel, “two demons are right behind you!”
She’d heard them as soon as they’d gotten within range but appreciated Edgar’s warning anyway. She spun and sprinted at the demons, diving into a forward roll as she reached the closest and executing her vicious back-stab maneuver. It exploded into sparks, having already taken several well-placed bolts from Mack.
In the second of calm before Lynn surged to her feet she saw a stray crusher worm headed Edgar’s way. She yelled a warning, then left him to deal with it since she had a demon and an Orcull converging on her. A pity they were too stupid to realize their doom when they saw it.
Just to see what would happen, she tried a last minute dodge to get the two monsters to run into each other, Three Stooges style. But they seemed annoyingly aware of each other’s position and the maneuver did nothing. A part of her brain wondered why they were programmed to be so sensitive to each other and hunters, while completely ignoring all inanimate objects—well, most. There was that time with the Varg and the air conditioning unit. She had no time to ponder it, though. She needed to focus fully on the battle and stay aware of the ground under her feet as she did. The last thing she wanted was a twisted ankle.
After both demon and Orcull had been reduced to sparks, she quickly equipped four new plates and a bag of Oneg to bring her armor and health back up. Then she turned and did a quick survey of the battlefield as she panted to catch her breath.
Chatter from her teammates filled one ear while the grunts, growls and roars from the TDMs around her filled the other. She saw Edgar make a lunge around the crusher worm, trying to reach the weak point in its armor behind the head. His strike landed but he couldn’t backpedal fast enough to avoid its pincer jaws when it whipped around to attack. While the worm was distracted by Edgar, though, Mack sank three bolts into its weak spot on its unprotected side and the monster exploded.
“Man down, man down!” Dan yelled and Lynn spun to see the remaining Orcull charge in their direction while Ronnie stood rooted in place, fists clenched and face red with exertion and anger. His Hunter skin was gone and Lynn realized she could no longer see his blue friendly icon on her overhead.
Ronnie had died.
She didn’t have time to think about it, though, but raced forward to intercept the Orcull bearing down on their group. With four against one, its demise was swift.
Silence descended as they all collectively held their breath, waiting for another enemy to appear. The sound of distant traffic and the buzz of insects in the tall grass once again became audible and Lynn suddenly noticed how incredibly sweaty she was. She swiped a sleeve across her face and straightened.
With no further enemies in sight, it was time to collect loot.
A squabble ensued as Mack, Dan and Edgar raced to grab the resources and items scattered around their feet. Lynn left them to it and headed back to where she’d killed the Orculls, sipping on the hydration tube connected to her TD Counterforce backpack as she went. She was pleased to see not one but two shiny augments blinking at her amid the weeds. She gathered them, plus the globes, ichor and plates from her conquests, before heading back to the group.
“Hugo, put a globe each toward stealth and detection, please.”
“Of course, Miss Lynn.”
Lynn rejoined her team…who were arguing again. She noticed they’d all exited combat mode, so she did as well.
“—And you, Edgar, you were just sitting there like a dumb rock instead of having my back. You should have been tearing into those Orculls. No wonder I died.”
“Hey, I’m sorry, man,” Edgar said placidly. “My scattergun doesn’t have much of a range and I thought I’d get in the way with a Plasma Blade. Anyway I thought you had it covered. You didn’t say you needed backup.”
“I shouldn’t have to, you idiot!”
“Don’t call him names, Ronnie,” Lynn snapped, surprising herself. She didn’t want to argue, especially not with Ronnie. But Edgar’s grateful glance gave her the courage to continue. “Look, it’s not like he can see your stats. And we’ve been focusing on individual training the past two weeks, not team tactics, so how would he know what you want him to do in an unexpected situation like this?”
Ronnie shot her a glare, then turned to Dan and Mack, obviously choosing to ignore her, rather than respond to her perfectly valid point.
Jerk.
“Next time don’t leave me high and dry like that,” Ronnie growled, as if Mack and Dan hadn’t been shooting the crap out of the Orculls the whole time. Maybe he thought that if he yelled at everyone else, no one would notice his own failures. Right. Like that ever worked. “Now I’ve lost an hour of experience and supplies!”
“You can still play if you want, the debuff is only fifty percent penalty on stats. And you can always buy supplies in auction if you need them,” Dan pointed out.
“That’s not the point! The point is I shouldn’t have to. Our primary goal is to get everybody to Level 20 by September. But we can’t do that if we’re being sloppy and getting killed. We’re going to start working on team level tactics tomorrow.”
Well, finally, Lynn thought, listening with half an ear while she finished reviewing the index entry for the new TDM, the Stalker.
“We need to find more augments if we’re going to start specializing,” Dan said.
“They sell those in auction too,” Mack offered helpfully.
“Yeah, for ridiculous prices,” Dan shot back.
Lynn grinned internally. She was one of those people charging “ridiculous prices” for augments. Though, now that she thought about it, she should probably be saving those for her team instead of selling them.
“You can do private transfers between players as well,” she said. “I know some of the best places to get dropped items. All we need to do is figure out who needs what and we can start collecting and assigning augments as we level.”
“Good idea, because I’m broke.” Mack said. “I spend all my allowance on game subscriptions. You can hook us up with the good stuff, right Lynn?” He punched her playfully on the arm.
Lynn pursed her lips to hide a smile.
“Okay but you gotta earn it, bozo. That means at least three hours a day on combat simulations and target practice.”
Mack groaned theatrically.
“Slave driver! You’re worse than my mom.”
Dan and Edgar laughed while Lynn snorted indignantly.
“All right everyone, stop horsing around,” Ronnie said, interrupting before Lynn could quip back at Mack. “If we’re going to specialize, then I’ll be assault, Dan, you’ll be the sniper, Edgar, you’re our heavy weapons and Mack, you stick with tactical.”
“What about me?” Lynn asked when Ronnie didn’t continue.
“You can do tactical with Mack,” he said with a dismissive wave.
Lynn frowned. Ronnie’s assignments to the guys were pretty much what they all played in WarMonger—she would know considering she’d taken them all out dozens of times. Assault players were usually fast-moving with medium armor and small arms or melee weapons for close-in fighting. Their job was to strategically kick butt wherever things were thickest, helping to control the enemy’s movement and keep them where they needed to be.
The sniper role was being a glass cannon, light armor with a long-range weapon, usually a rifle with high-powered ammo that could one-shot targets. The sniper was supposed to stay back from the battle and provide overwatch.
Heavy weapons players were the tanks, there to soak up damage by drawing enemy fire away from their teammates. They were usually weighed down by the toughest armor available and a freaking beast of a gun, say a Gatling gun or hand-held cannon.
Tactical players were the all-around people who could fill in the gaps and provide support. They usually had medium armor and mid-range weapons and in certain games they filled the role of medic or healer. They were also the ones who managed things like air strikes or who carried the area damage weapons like grenade launchers.
Tactical was a role that suited Mack. He was a less aggressive player and definitely a better shooter than melee fighter. But it did not suit her. Even in WarMonger, she preferred to get up close and personal with her kills. Not that she couldn’t snipe with the best of them but it just wasn’t her style. If this had been WarMonger, she might have gone with it, since it was based on modern weaponry that was mostly ranged anyway.
But TD Hunter wasn’t WarMonger and she’d noticed in beta the disproportionate amount of damage the Nano and Plasma Blades inflicted compared to the pistols, or even the rifle she’d only gotten to try out before beta had ended. Ranged weapons were important, since sometimes you needed space to avoid the different TDM attacks. But now that they were facing tougher monsters and couldn’t use terrain for cover the same way you could in a game like WarMonger. They would need more than just one assault player to help control the enemy’s movements and keep them from mobbing the team’s shooters.
“Uh, Ronnie. Don’t you think I’d be better as assault?” Lynn said.
“Assault is a high-stress role where a lot can go wrong. I don’t need you getting in my way out in front. You’ll do better as tactical.”
Aaand there was Ronnie the Jerkinator.
He might as well have said “girls got no game” and been done with it. Or maybe he was afraid Lynn might show him up if they were in the same role, side by side where their performance could be easily compared.
Lynn sighed and stayed silent. Arguing about it now wasn’t going to get her anywhere. The line between assault and tactical could be fluid anyway. She would do what she thought needed doing and Ronnie could complain about it if he didn’t like it.
“Okay, so when everyone gets home, post in the group chat what augments you’ve found so far and what their stats are so I can assign them. For now, since you geniuses let me get killed, I’ll observe and give feedback. You all obviously need it.”
Seriously? There were so many things wrong with how Ronnie was leading, Lynn could have filled an entire field manual. But again, she wasn’t team captain, so she said nothing. She told herself it was because team cohesion was important and she didn’t want to cause a fight. The little voice in her head pointing out that she would do a much better job was just a distraction. She didn’t want the job and Ronnie would never accept her as captain anyway.
Ugh. Why oh why did Mr. Krator make this competition team only?
Lynn tried to forget how annoying the whole situation was as they projected their displays so Ronnie could see what was going on, then continued hunting. But every time he opened his mouth, she had to grit her teeth tighter to keep from snapping at him.
It was a relief when Ronnie finally called it quits and they headed back to their respective homes. Lynn caught a robo-car at the nearest hub and rode in gloomy silence, contemplating their team’s sorry state and wondering what in the world she could do to fix it.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey, did you have fun with your team today?”
Lynn grunted noncommittally as she headed to the bathroom to shower and change. It was Saturday, so that meant some mother-daughter hangout time as soon as she was no longer stinking and potentially covered in ticks. Maybe ice cream and an immersive VR adventure with her mom would cheer her up.
The hot water felt amazing, soothing sore muscles and reinvigorating her. She was relieved to find no ticks this time—though it also made her suspicious. She’d have her mom check her scalp later. She emerged from the bathroom dressed in clean clothes and blotting her long black hair dry only to find her mother in a frenzied rush.
“Uh, Mom, what’s going on? Also, did you know your scrubs are on inside out?”
“What? Oh, good grief.” Matilda rushed back into her bedroom, then reemerged a minute later. “I’m sorry, Lynn but the hospital just sent an emergency ping to all staff. Everyone’s been called in.”
Lynn’s heart sank but she tried not to let it show on her face.
“What happened? Was there an accident or something?”
“Worse in a way. The hospital’s power failed. They’re evacuating all critical patients until they can figure out what in the heck is going on.” Matilda grabbed her purse and rifled through it as she spoke.
“No way!” Lynn said, confused. “Don’t hospitals have backup systems? Like, generators and stuff?”
“What I got was everything is down,” Matilda said, her face working. “There’s multiple back-ups. Generators for one and the city grid AI is supposed to syphon any power off to the hospital when power’s lost. None of it’s working. There is zero power. That’s what I was told,” she finished, slinging her purse strap over her shoulder and heading for the door.
“Have you had supper yet?” Lynn called after her mom. She could smell something cooking in the oven.
“No but there’s no time,” Matilda said and pulled open their apartment door. She paused and looked back. “I’m sorry, honey. Depending on how long it takes to get things fixed, I might have to pull a double shift. I’ll message you details as soon as I know more.”
“Okay,” Lynn said, feeling worse than ever.
Her mom must have noticed her gloom, because Matilda paused in the middle of pulling the door shut.
“Honey, when the casserole is done, why don’t you take some down to Mr. Thomas’ apartment and see if he’d like some company. He seemed so pleased by those cookies we made him. I think he’s pretty lonely.”
Lynn forced a smile on her face.
“Sure thing, Mom. Stay safe.”
“I will, dear,” Matilda said and blew her a kiss before shutting the door. The sound of her hurried footsteps soon faded.
With a sigh, Lynn went to her room to retrieve the woodland craft book Edgar had given her, then slumped onto the living room couch with it while the casserole finished cooking. She was starting the chapter on interpreting the sounds of the woods—a concept she was familiar with considering how noisy TDMs were—when the oven timer dinged. The casserole turned out to be cheesy potato topped with corn flakes, one of Lynn’s favorites. It wasn’t quite as traditionally Iowan as it could have been since Matilda had thrown in a pound of ground beef to help satiate her daughter’s carnivorous appetite. Lynn set the dish on the counter to cool, then, after some consideration, got out ingredients for a tossed salad. She wasn’t a fan of salad but anything tasted good with enough ranch dressing and her nurse of a mother had pounded into her that no meal was complete without green vegetables.
After the salad was put together and the casserole was cool enough to eat, Lynn packed up two portions of each into disposable containers and set out for Mr. Thomas’ apartment on the first floor.
Her hesitant knock on his door was answered after a considerable delay with a muffled “Who is it?”
“Uh, it’s Lynn, your neighbor from upstairs?”
There was a long silence, then the lock rattled and the door opened on Mr. Thomas’ beaming face.
“Why, Miz Raven, what a pleasant surprise! Come in, come in.” He motioned with his cane.
“Uhh, okay,” Lynn said, feeling all kinds of awkward. But she didn’t want to be rude, so she followed Mr. Thomas into his apartment and closed the door behind her. “I, uh, brought some casserole and salad. Mom got called away to the hospital and, um, I was wondering if you might want some company for dinner?”
“Certainly, young lady. I would be delighted. An old man like me doesn’t often get visitors. My evenings are usually spent in front of my trusty stream screen with only my service AI for company. It is not a bad sort, as AIs go, but of course they never do have a sense of humor.”
Lynn listened politely as she followed Mr. Thomas into the combined dining room and kitchen. Unlike her apartment a few floors above, this apartment was smaller and there was no wall between the living room and kitchen, giving it a more open feel even if it was smaller overall.
“Put the food down there, on the table. I’ll get us some plates and utensils. Would you like some iced tea?”
“Sure?”
Lynn set her bag of food down on the table, then stood awkwardly as Mr. Thomas puttered around, rooting through various drawers and kitchen cabinets. She shot a surreptitious glance around as she waited, noting with interest the framed posters of singers and musicians in old fashioned clothes—she wasn’t sure of the decade but definitely before her mother had been born—and other artifacts of the previous century, things she recognized only from her mother’s descriptions. A rotary telephone. A cassette player. A tube TV pushed back in one corner, its screen dark and dusty. Even the furniture seemed old, as if collected and preserved with loving care instead of thrown out to make room for more modern and sleek designs.
In fact, the only modern thing she could see in the whole apartment was the stream screen on one wall, so thin and sleek that it could have been part of the wall itself. Above it in a place of prominence was mounted an old rifle with a wooden stock and dull black metal fixtures. Lynn didn’t recognize it—it wasn’t like the M4s or even older M16s she was used to seeing in games like WarMonger. Considering what she knew of Mr. Thomas, she guessed it was whatever had preceded those rifles in the history of gun development. She wondered if it was the rifle Mr. Thomas had used when he’d fought…wherever it was that he’d fought. History was not her strong point and she hadn’t wanted to bother Mr. Thomas with a bunch of personal questions.
“There we are, Miz Raven. A bit of an eclectic mix of tableware, I will admit. But all perfectly serviceable.”
Lynn’s eyes snapped back to the table and she shot Mr. Thomas a hesitant glance. He smiled at her with a twinkle in his eye, not seeming at all offended to find her staring nosily around his apartment.
“Shall we eat?”
“Yeah, sure. I’m starving, actually.”
While Lynn got out the containers of food, Mr. Thomas poured them both drinks, then they dug in to the home-cooked fare.
“Mm, this casserole is delectable. Did you make it, Miz Raven?”
“Oh, no. My mom made it. I can cook when I need to but it’s not really my thing.”
“I’ll admit, it’s not my favorite activity, either. But I have learned over the years that food builds bridges and mends hearts in a way that few other things do. I can’t say I’ve become an expert but I’ve found more joy in the art as years have passed.” Mr. Thomas smiled.
Lynn nodded and chewed her food in silence. She was pretty bad at small talk and this was out of her depth. It was nice to have company after her mom had left so abruptly but eating at a casual acquaintance’s apartment on the spur of the moment was definitely not her idea of a relaxing time.
“So,” Mr. Thomas continued, seeming totally at ease, “how is the hunting going? I’ve not seen you valiantly slaying AR monsters around the complex of late, are you still playing that new game?”
“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Lynn said, glad to be on familiar ground. “I’ve just found better hunting spots than right around here.”
“Ah. You worked things out with your friends, then?”
“Yup. Thanks for your advice on that. We formed a team and everything. It’s not perfect, but…well…at least we’re all getting along. Mostly.”
“Mostly?” Mr. Thomas raised his snowy white eyebrows.
Lynn blew out a noisy breath, her cheeks puffing out as she did.
“Yeah. Ronnie is still being a jerk most of the time. He doesn’t say it outright but he obviously still thinks I’m an inferior gamer because I’m a girl. It’s so stupid! My rankings are way higher than his and I’ve proven how good I am again and again. But he ignores it all and acts like I don’t exist half the time. He won’t listen to my advice, even when it hurts our team for him not to. It’s so infuriating, sometimes I just want to—to—I don’t know. Punch him in his stupid, idiotic face.” By the time she’d finished, she was breathing hard and clutching her fork so fiercely her knuckles were white.
“Ah, well, that certainly sounds like a difficult situation,” Mr. Thomas said, his expression grave. He sighed. “I wish I could tell you it will all turn out fine in the end. But unfortunately, we cannot control how others think of us. There will always be those who stubbornly cling to the most unjust and fallacious opinions, regardless of all proof to the contrary.” Mr. Thomas leaned back in his chair, his gaze vacant and the care-worn lines of his face seeming deeper than normal. Lynn imagined he was speaking from painful experience.
“So…how did you survive it?” she asked, then blushed, realizing what she’d implied. “Sorry, I just— Well— You seem—”
Mr. Thomas chuckled.
“Not to worry, young lady. You are quite perceptive and it is nothing to be ashamed of. How did I survive? In a word: Charity.”
“Uh, what? You mean, like, people giving you money?”
This time Mr. Thomas laughed outright. It was a warm sound, full of simple enjoyment. Lynn couldn’t help but grin in response.
“Not at all, Miz Raven. I mean charity in the King James sense. These days people use the word ‘love,’ but our modern culture has reduced that word to a trite and shallow thing. Charity has a much deeper meaning. It is a selfless love, a love without agenda, without stipulation, without pride. It is to love in spite of, not because of.”
“Um, okay?” Lynn said, then fell silent. She didn’t really do “feelings.” They were too ephemeral and confusing. She preferred solid, straightforward things, like objectives and stats and plans of attack.
Mr. Thomas smiled kindly and leaned forward.
“Let me put it differently. Consider a code of honor. Do you act honorably only to ‘good’ people who ‘deserve’ it? Or do you act with honor regardless of the situation or the actions of those around you?”
Well, Lynn knew which one she preferred. She hadn’t built the feared mercenary Larry Coughlin’s reputation on being “honorable.” It was survival of the fittest. She’d spent years honing her ability to ruthlessly squash her competition into the dirt. She would fight and beat anyone at all, friend or foe, for the right price. And sometimes for no price at all, Ronnie and the guys being a case in point. It didn’t matter if she liked Edgar, Mack and Dan in the real. They ran with Ronnie in WarMonger, so it was their own fault they suffered along with him.
Besides, she did have a code, of sorts. Get the job done. Deliver the goods—or, at least, refund the fee if you couldn’t. Keep your word. Watch the back of those who watched yours. And if you screwed with one merc, you screwed with them all.
But then, WarMonger was just a game. So, did it even count?
She knew which one her dad would have picked. When she was young, he’d spent hours volunteering for a local prison outreach. It had made her mom worry incessantly because some of the people in the program were the same ones he’d put in prison in the first place. Lynn had asked him once why he helped bad people and he’d crouched in front of her and said, “Because bad people are still people, jenta mi.”
Lynn swallowed and cleared her throat.
“I guess if you have a code of honor, you stick to it regardless.”
Mr. Thomas smiled.
“It wouldn’t be much of a code, otherwise, would it?”
“Guess not.”
“Well, charity is like a code of honor. It is to love, to treat with kindness and respect, because you have decided for yourself that is the sort of person you will be, instead of allowing other people’s words or actions to influence your behavior. Evil begets evil, young lady, and I saw many others over the years trapped by bitterness and anger because of the way they had been treated. It was not a life that I wanted to live.”
Lynn took another bite of casserole and chewed slowly as she mulled over Mr. Thomas’s words. She’d had her fair share of sucky treatment. It was why she’d turned to gaming, where she could be judged purely on the basis of her skill, instead of how her body looked. That fair treatment in virtual amidst the ceaseless bullying she got in the real was probably the only thing that had preserved her sanity through those rough years at school. But now she had chosen to leave her comfort zone and take the battle into the real. Now she had to actually deal with Ronnie’s Jerkitude instead of running away and consoling herself with sweet retribution in virtual.
So, what was her code of honor? Who would she choose to be? Would it be Larry, a ruthless fighter whose chief concern was getting paid? Or Lynn, a self-conscious teenager who let fear hold her back? Was there something in between and if so, how did she find it?
A heavy weariness settled on her shoulders. Where was her dad when she needed him?
The thought brought a hot prickle to the corners of her eyes and she ducked her head and busied herself finishing her food while Mr. Thomas changed the topic and started a good-natured gripe about the failings of modern news streams and how it was all doom and gloom all the time.
“Why, just yesterday,” he said, “all the news pundits wanted to talk about was that mega airbus that crashed into San Francisco Bay a few days ago. Of course, it was a tragedy, but we should be mourning those lost and leaving the families in peace, not playing endless footage of the crash. And the conspiracy theories! It’s enough to drive any normal person insane.
“You should hear those yahoos on the news streams. The way they talk, all the random airbus malfunctions in the past month are some kind of interconnected plot by ransomware hackers trying to undermine the public’s confidence in these big corporation technologies. They claim the corporations are colluding to form monopolies and ‘undermine American freedom’ or some such nonsense.”
“What kind of malfunctions?” Lynn asked, thinking about the airbuses she rode pretty much daily at this point with all the hunting she was doing.
“Oh, sudden power loss or glitches in the navigation systems. There’s only been a few deadly crashes, though. Most of the time the AIs have no problem switching to backup systems.”
Lynn thought of her mom’s hospital.
“You got any theories on what’s causing it, if it’s not hackers? I mean, besides China. Everyone blames everything on China, no matter what it is.”
“Oh, I am sure it’s nothing, just random glitches like the airbus companies have been saying. It happens from time to time. Technology isn’t perfect, after all, even if it is much more reliable than humans.”
Lynn made a vague sound of agreement and ate the last few bites of her dinner, then pushed back from the table.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Thomas, but I’d better get going. I’ve had a long day and I’m beat.”
“Of course, Miz Raven. Thank you for thinking of an old man. It was delightful to have company for a change.”
Lynn smiled shyly.
“No problem. I’m pretty used to being alone but Mom is always saying that interacting with people in virtual is no substitute for real relationships.”
“Your mother is a wise woman, young lady.”
“Yeah, I know. But most of the people I’ve known in the real are jerks or bullies. It hasn’t given me much of a reason to put myself out there.”
“Well, you’ve made a good start of it so far, I would say.” Mr. Thomas leaned back and patted his stomach with a twinkle in his eye. “Good food is an essential ingredient to any friendship, after all.”
That made Lynn grin as she gathered up her bag and the food containers.
“So, you’re saying I should work on my cooking skills, then bribe my way into people’s good graces.”
“Well, it worked for you today, did it not? It is exceedingly difficult to say no to someone who makes delicious food.”
“Thanks for the tip but I think I’ll stick to shooting things,” Lynn said with a laugh. “It’s more fun than cooking.” With everything packed away, she hefted her bag and stood awkwardly for a moment, unsure if she should wave, or shake hands, or what.
“Goodness, pardon me,” Mr. Thomas said, reaching for his cane. “Let me see you out. Your mother’s heavenly casserole is threatening to send me into a food coma and I quite forgot my manners.”
“Oh, it’s no problem, Mr. Thomas, don’t bother getting up, I’ll let myself out. I’ll…see you around, I guess?”
“You are welcome any time, Miz Raven.”
“Thanks and…you can call me Lynn.” She smiled.
“Well, then, I insist you call me Jerald.”
“Er, okay. Bye, Jerald!”
“And a good evening to you, Lynn.”
Lynn gave a little wave and left, making sure she shut his apartment door securely behind her. The last few months she’d been making herself take the stairs instead of the elevator, for training. But tonight she was too worn out, so she stopped in the lobby and pushed the button for the elevator. When she finally collapsed on her bed, she was tempted to log onto WarMonger and see what’d been going on while she’d been so occupied with TD Hunter. But it had been a long day and she had to get up early for her pre-hunt workout tomorrow. She spent a little while messaging her mom to see how things were going and if they’d figured out what was wrong with the power grid. But all she got from Matilda was a furious rant about budget cuts and incompetent bureaucrats who knew nothing about safety systems. So, instead of distracting her mom with more messages, she shut off everything and lay back in her bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling.
She fell asleep thinking about honor codes and airbuses falling from the sky.