He gasped. A creature pounced on the ledge beside her. The glistening blue thing had a human face — with the minor addition of saber teeth and an extra eye, glowing red. The creature swung a sword at Maddie. She blasted it. It didn’t die right away but kept coming after her, taking the sparking hits from her weapon. It swung a second glowing sword. She had to dodge, leaping off the rocks onto a grassy field. Here too there was an elegance to her moves.
Which is when a flying pterodactyl dropped from the sky and ripped Shaw’s heart out of his chest.
YOU’VE JUST DIED! a sign in the goggle screen announced.
He remembered which button to hit.
He was alive once more. And, now, his survival upbringing returned.
He spun around — just in time to dodge a squat creature attacking with a fiery hammer. It took five shots of the laser to kill it and he had to leap back from a final swing of its weapon before it died.
The goggle message was YOU’VE JUST EARNED A LAVA HAMMER. A small picture of one popped up in the lower-right-hand corner of the screen. The window was called WEAPONS STASH.
A shadow appeared on the grassy field in front of him.
Shaw’s heart thudded and he looked up fast, just in time to kill one of those damn flying things. It too had a human face.
He found himself sweating, tense. He felt an urge to be trigger-happy, blasting creatures through weeds and trees, shooting when he had no clear line of sight.
He thought of the hunter, all those years ago, shooting the buck through a stand of brush.
Shaw calmed and took control of his tactics. He zapped a slew of running, flying and slithering things — until an alien unsportingly dropped a boulder off a hilltop and crushed him.
He saw Maddie Poole taking on three creatures at once, ducking for cover behind a downed tree trunk, laden with bags of corn and peasant bread — it was the table on which sat the chips and soup cans. Shaw had a good shot at one and killed it. She didn’t acknowledge the aid. Like a real soldier, she wouldn’t let her attention waver.
An Asian-inflected voice came through the speakers: “Your
After Maddie killed her other two assailants, she hit a button on her goggles and walked up to Shaw and pressed the same on his. While the fantasy world remained, the aliens had vanished. It was suddenly quiet, aside from the make-believe sound of the ocean and the wind. There were no laser guns in their hands any longer.
“Hell of an experience,” he told her.
She nodded. “Totally. Notice how all the creatures had variations on human faces.”
He said he had.
“Hong Wei, the CEO of the company, ordered focus groups to help select villains. Gamers are much more comfortable killing anything that resembles people than animals. We’re fodder; Bambi’s safe.”
Shaw looked around. “Where’s the exit?”
She said coyly, “We’ve got a few minutes left. Let’s fight some more.”
He was tired, after the eventful day. But he was enjoying the time with her. “I’m game.”
She smiled, then took his hand and put it on yet another button on his goggles.
“On three, press this one.”
“Got it.”
“One... two... three!”
He pushed where instructed and, from the controller, a red-hot glowing sword blade emerged. One appeared in her hand too. This time there were no other creatures, just the two of them.
Maddie Poole didn’t waste a second. She leapt at him, swinging the sword overhead, bringing it down fast. While Shaw knew knives well, he’d never held a sword. Still, combat with the weapon was instinctual. He effectively parried her blow and, finding himself irritated that she’d withheld what this portion of the game would entail, he charged forward. She deflected each of his thrusts and swings or dodged out of the way. As soon as he missed her, she was back, coming at him. His advantages were longer legs and strength, hers were speed and being a smaller target.
He was breathing hard... and only partly from the effort of climbing on the ledges and rocks.
They received a two-minute warning from the heavens. The deadline seemed to energize Maddie. She charged forward repeatedly. He took a cut on his leg, and she one on the upper arm. Blood appeared in the wound, an eerie sight. A meter on his goggles reported that he had ninety percent life left.
He feinted and Maddie fell for it. She dodged too late to miss a slash on her upper thigh, a shallow wound, and he could hear her low, murky voice: “Son of a bitch.”