Lair by Carl Stubblefield (recommended reading TXT) 📕

He retreated behind the turrets to catch his breath. Gus noticed that the green, blue and red bars were refilling at an accelerated rate. He wondered if the labs in the manor could develop some kind of stamina, MP, or HP potion analog. No use in getting distracted about it now, but man, it would have made a big difference.

On and on they came, throwing themselves forward, mostly Shamblers now, sacrificing themselves to the turrets. Probably to soak up all the bullets and leave the way clear for the more effective soldiers in the zombie army. Gus wondered why, if they always had this many Dark Nth, they didn’t attack all at once.

Before he could work out an answer, all of a sudden, the horde retreated a bit, keeping behind the barrier of bodies, unreachable by the turrets. Even the Mantids in the trees jumped down and hid behind the large mound. Gus did not like what was happening and retreated a bit, unsure what was planned next.

From what Gus could see of the crowd of Dark Nth, they parted to the sides of the path to make way for something. It didn’t take long to find out what. Large creatures, riddled with muscles, stepped forward through the breach. Their shoulder muscles were grotesquely large and extended up to the sides of their heads, making their whole frame adopt a chevron shape.

“Were those shoulder or neck muscles? How did they even develop like that?” Gus wondered.

Bands of sinew and muscle shone through in torn patches where their growth overtook the skin’s capacity to hold it, and Gus could see the tell-tale iridescence of Nth-embedded tissue when the light caught it just right. Gus dashed and triggered Slide, gliding quickly toward the huge creature; he chopped upward with the naginata as he got next to it, but instead of the blade slicing neatly through, it was like chopping into a piece of wood. The blade stuck in place.

A huge hand grasped him at his upper back, holding him like a cat by the scruff. Pulling him upward, the giant muscled creature looked at Gus, and he saw a huge dinner plate sized fist punch him square in the face, just as Gus activated Dodge. It mitigated some of the damage, but he still absorbed the majority of the force, and it rocked his head as he flew backward.

Darkness set in and Gus was bobbing in and out of consciousness. He began to hear shots, first sporadic as his awareness faded in and out, then more continuous. Gus struggled to regain his senses, but it felt like he was at the bottom of a very deep swimming pool, struggling to swim upward. He would make some progress then would nod off, sinking back into the deep.

Shaking himself to action and struggling to regain his full senses, almost swooning into total unconsciousness. Finally, Gus managed to break through. Opening his eyes and gasping, Gus saw that he lay crumpled amid the turrets. The turrets fired constantly, burning through their ammunition and targeting multiple zombies. Had they not been there, Gus would have been overrun. He noticed with horror that no music was playing. He had lost his song-chain with the hit, and all of its buffs with it.

The turrets were extremely efficient, and the bodies of two of the huge hulks were lying there, large holes chewed through the head and shoulders. Other Shamblers had formed a mound that deflected the other zombies toward the sides. These mounds were starting to get bulldozed away by a second wave of the Juggernauts.

One behemoth pushed forward; its tiny eyes puckered by the bulges of muscle surrounding it. The stare bored into Gus, ordering him to stay there and die. Gus crab-walked backward, slipping and scuttling between the remaining turrets, trying to escape. The large creature interposed its arms in front of its face, forearms acting as literal meat shields, and the turret fire ricocheted off or thudded into them, doing no real damage. A large backhand launched one of the turrets into another before flying off into the jungle.

Gus activated Wreck-luse, and the Juggernaut let out a huge bellow. For a second, Gus thought it was a critical failure, but the creature did an about face and barreled through the other creatures, back up the path. All the remaining zombies made way for its wild retreat, with only a few Shamblers too slow to get out of the way and getting flung to the side of the trail as they were tackled by their teammate. A furrow appeared as the zombie plowed through the carnage, rapidly filled with other assorted zombies.

Gus saw his naginata lying there, just a couple feet in front of the turrets, sticking out from underneath a fallen Juggernaut. With the distraction of the fleeing Juggernaut, Gus had just enough time to run forward and grab ahold of the weapon. It took a couple good pulls, all the while another one of the hulks bore down on him, with outstretched hands ready to grab and crush him, or pull him in two. Finally, he pulled it out, his momentum spilling him backward ass over teakettle.

The Dark Nth were close now and as Gus lay on his back, he heard the turrets start to sputter. Whether from running out of ammo or being overwhelmed by the sheer press of bodies, the sound made him panic. The heady scent of rotting flesh made his stomach roil as they came closer and closer. Gus jumped to his feet and swung the naginata around him, trying to make some space from the encircling horde. Wreck-tums triggered again and Gus pushed his way out of the gang of zombies in the direction of the weakened opponent, and broke through to freedom. From there he dashed away, not stopping until his stamina and MP were in the red and he was far away.

Chapter Thirty-Two

My Own Worst Enemy

Day 9 9:39 AM

1:15:31 remaining

Gus