Lair by Carl Stubblefield (recommended reading TXT) 📕

all the marbles,” Gus said as he prepared himself for one crucial dash. Gus launched himself and caught the edge of the balcony railing. He almost lost his hold with the jolt his already-strained shoulder joints took from the abrupt stop as gravity tried to yank him down after the leap.

Getting a quick heel lock on the edge of the balcony, he pulled himself over the rail to safety. Lying there, he looked to the left and saw his reflection in the dark glass, with the sea behind him. Looking upward, there was no balcony above, but he saw another large structure, octagonal in shape, five stories up. “Always something new about the manor…” Gus panted as he lay there. The cool concrete on his back was nice on his achy muscles, but the naginata he had strung across his back as he climbed was not. Groaning, he rolled over and got to his feet and slid the window open. He thanked his lucky stars that he hadn’t had the habit of latching the window shut.

An alarm was sounding as Gus entered the room, and the lights alternated normal illumination with a red flash. Gus quickly changed into a new jumpsuit and picked up his naginata. Running to leave, Gus turned and locked the large sliding window. Now that he was inside, he wanted to be sure nothing could follow him. He looked longingly at the shower but he had no time for that. He had to act quickly before the zombies found a way into the manor.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time

Day 9 11:43 AM

1:11:27 remaining

After sprinting up the stairs to the main control room, Gus saw the reason for the alarm. The cameras in the main atrium were focused on the main entry, and the cameras at the main entry just showed a white static. Listening, Gus could hear a loud rhythmic booming echoed every ten seconds.

“What the—" the words dropping off as Gus saw two of the Juggernauts punching the doors in tandem with their enormous fists. Immediately behind them, all sorts of Mantids paced, anxious to make it inside the facility as soon as the smallest breach could be exploited.

Fortunately, the doors were holding, but he could see some significant white discoloration spidering away from the point of impact to the corners of the doors. Right then a small pea-sized piece of glass chipped away and skittered down the entryway.

“Nick, is there any way to reinforce that door?!”

“We could drop the blast doors…”

“Hurry, do it!” Gus yelled.

“Compliance!” A thick metal slab dropped down from the ceiling behind the doors, and an eerie quiet filled the entryway and atrium. Gus doubted the Dark Nth could make their way into the manor through that route, so he flopped down into a chair, shaken by how close a call that had been.

With the blast doors down, the alarms silenced, easing the tension a bit. The lights still pulsed an intermittent red.

“Nick, let me know immediately if any of the zombies move beyond the front doors. I don’t want any sneaking in somewhere else.”

“Got it,” Nick replied, and Gus felt a little more relieved. Only Mantids could climb up to any windows, and they didn’t have the strength of the behemoths. If there weren’t too many, and he acted quickly, he should be able to hold them off.

Crap. I need to get some defenses in place. Checking his logs, he had 6900 FP to play with, so he began searching the menus to see what he could use. He had also gained some XP from his big battle, but since nothing had leveled, he didn’t see the characteristic chimes that urged him to check. He was only 1700 XP from level eleven. He figured he must not have gained any XP from the turret kills, or that number would have been much higher.

“Nick, how many zombies are left out there?”

“Three hundred thirty-one.”

Gus blinked; it seemed like there were a lot more. He still had a lot to get rid of, especially the behemoths at the doors. He was unsettled as he accessed the terminal for manor facilities management, and saw that the gold bar representing total energy available for upgrades was much smaller than it was before. Currently he saw basic operations taking up twenty-five units, cafeteria fifteen, training arena seventy-five. He vaguely remembered the bar having 2000 units total, a bit less than a quarter the length of the screen. Now the bar was down to maybe one-fifty points total, and a gauge showed the loss of energy continuing at a slow rate, like a leaky tire.

“Why am I losing energy?” Gus barked.

“Less and less magma is reaching the absorption matrices. This appears to be related to the changes Methiochos made when he first arrived on the island.”

Gus growled and tried to come up with a plan, using his FP and energy available. He had found some things, but could tell that it still was incomplete.

He felt a slight tremor and a loud boom outside. Making his way to the smudged windows, he saw that more smoke was roiling out in a large plume from the cinder cone of the volcano. Blacker this time, instead of the gray drizzle it had been. Shaking his head, he went back to the console. After a quick search he found some things he could use but they required Tier 2 of the Foundry. The upgrade was going to be 5000 FP. Wincing at the expense, he unlocked it. There were other goodies he really wanted, but even if he had the FP, he should hold off on them until the power problem was sorted.

Another thirty points of the golden bar were grayed out as more energy was utilized. The gold bar had less than half the available energy remaining. The bar reminded him of a burning fuse on a stick of dynamite. He hoped he could figure out what was happening with the power, whether it was a