Lair by Carl Stubblefield (recommended reading TXT) 📕

made it to the edge of the clearing, dodging trees in his reckless flight from the zombies. After a bit, he checked his minimap and saw that he was no longer being pursued. He finally allowed himself to stop and collapsed on the ground, his stamina bar exhausted. Just like his very first battle on the island, once he was out of the way, the zombies marched to their goal. Checking his minimap, he saw that the yellow, orange and red dots had continued to pour out of the forest and were everywhere. A pop-up on his display showed that all of his turrets were out of ammunition or inoperable. There was nothing to stop them.

The horde appeared to be congregating near the front entry in a more and more concentrated mass. With so many zombies milling about he would not be able to enter the manor again, and even if he kited them away bit by bit, he doubted he could clear enough of them to get in before the volcano erupted. If Gus never saw another countdown again it would be too soon.

The sheer quantities of mobs made him wonder how there could be so many. There were a couple hundred zombies of different types, probably much more than that, counting those that continued to trickle out of the forest.

Feeling discouraged at his failure, it weighed heavily on him. Then it hit him almost as a wave and he slumped to the ground, leaning back against a tree. How could he have ever thought that he could take on such a teeming mass of deadly creatures? Why did he let himself hope that this time would be different? He felt a familiar despair seep into his core, sapping his hope and motivation. It was like the color was draining out of his world. He cupped his hands over his face, rubbing his eyes as he contemplated what had happened. His father’s words haunted him: Never engage a superior force…

Even with the Nth, he was still Gus, and somehow life seemed to find a way to ruin things. Couldn’t fate finally give him a break? It was so much crueler to dangle the potential of having powers and the manor’s capabilities in front of him and, just when he felt he was getting a handle on things, snatch them away. Different emotions battled within him; anger, despair, and sadness, swirling around like waves tossed in a storm. Sadness prevailed though, and Gus could feel the depression swallow him.

They were right. All the people who didn’t believe in him were right all along. He had overreached his station. He didn’t have what it took to get rid of the Dark Nth and escape the island. The corrupted Nth would eventually find a way in and infect the A.I. and system there. After that, who knew? Turn off the bio-stasis field and infect the world? Gus found it harder to care about the future. Maybe it was for the best that the volcano was going to go off, at least it might prevent the Dark Nth from leaving the island.

“Gus, what are you going to do?” Nick asked quietly.

“I don’t know. It probably doesn’t even matter now; I blew it. Just another failure in the life of Gus T. Vannett! I can’t get into the manor anymore with all those zombies in the way, but I guess none of that matters because pretty soon the volcano will do its thing and we’ll all be dead.”

“So that’s it, you’re done?”

“Might as well be. My father called it. I really am a failure. He must have seen it in me, and I stubbornly refused to believe it. I don’t know why, after having so many examples of it blatantly shoved in my face. I really, really, wanted him to be wrong. To come back and show him, ‘See? All those years you doubted and underestimated me. No matter how you have chosen to see me, I don’t accept your judgment and pity.’”

“Wow. Ok, Gus, I’m sure I’m not the first to tell you to suck it up. But think about how I see things. I’ve always been an outcast. And I’m great with that. Sometimes I don’t play well with others, but I walk my own path—” Nick started to say.

“Yeah, but you do realize that you’re not really—” Gus interjected.

“Let me finish! I’m not as patient as the old man, so I’m going to tell you how it is.

“Do you realize how we Nth see things? This construct frames my whole reality, all thanks to you. I am acutely aware of everything that has been recorded about this construct, and it is boiled down into little old me. It IS my reality. But let’s talk about you for a moment. Who are you, Gus? Are you a good guy? A bad guy? An anti-hero? Who are you going to be when everything shakes down?”

“Obviously, I’m good—”

“That remains to be seen. It doesn’t matter how powerful you get, Gus, life scales in difficulty to match your abilities. Whether you are a super or a reg. There’s never going to be a magic time when everything is easy and happy. There’s always going to be something or someone to blame for your troubles, too. One of my primary purposes and drives is to help you succeed. Are you a quitter?”

Gus pursed his lips closed, not wanting to hear this. Not now. He woodenly shook his head no.

“This way you deal with problems is not helping you at all. Running from difficult things never allows you to get past them. Life has a funny way of providing you a different way to learn a lesson if you refuse to learn it the first time. So doesn’t it make more sense in the long run to not just endure your struggles but overcome them?”

“How long do I have to maintain these futile efforts? I’m doubting that I have what it takes to be a super. Even