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The sound of the window rattling against its frame for the third time, the fourth, shot Caitlyn’s anxiety up into the stratosphere. She had her nimbleness high enough, but sometimes generated houses just had shitty windows - and breaking the glass would call too much attention to where she was. The blood trail behind her was already indication enough, and the last thing the six well armed individuals that had hit her with gunfire as soon as she’d exited the apartment building needed was a direct visual indicator that she was now hiding here.
The window finally gave up after her fifth push, and she crawled into a dark kitchen, slamming the window shut. Newer players would’ve pulled the curtain closed, but she left it open - drawn curtains, as a rule, kept the undead away, but attracted raiders like flies.
She moved carefully, silenced Glock 17 out, checking each room for undead before limping to the second floor. The power had been off in this server since Day 6, the water since Day 12, and it was currently Day 17. She operated in darkness every time she logged on, and here was no different as she crouched in what looked like a child’s bedroom on the second floor, pulled her tweezers from her backpack, and began to work on her leg.
Caitlyn’s plan since the server wipe had been to secure guns and sell them. The server was heavy on PVP, clans doing battle on a massive scale all over the map, so there was a profit to be made by getting to the abandoned military installations first and sweeping all the weapons into the back of her stolen pickup. This particular build was driving and shooting heavy, the heavily modified Glock 17 designed to be quiet and accurate, her pickup modified to be as quick as it could despite the heavy load of guns it carried.
Playing solo had its own risks, but she had a plan for that, too. She had a gun shop set up in an isolated place, heavily booby trapped and rigged to burn. She sold weaponry over the counter, instructed her customers to come around back, and gave them the magazine and ammunition separately, her pistol aimed at them the entire time. No chance to get jumped. She traded in medicine, food, fuel, and bottles of water - had enough of a stockpile to last months without investing in farming, at least until the next server wipe. Farmers got screwed over in servers such as this unless you had a big group and the weapons to defend it - raider clans and PVP die hards would sooner take your hard work than build the skills up on their own.
Caitlyn’s base wasn’t in her shop, either - that was a common mistake that newbies often made. She lived in the fifth floor of an apartment building, but her stockpile was in a basement, accessible only through a hidden hatch half-glitched into the backyard of an overgrown farmhouse. Moving between the three locations was risky, but when she was driving it was obvious when she was being followed - nobody could move that fast.
She clearly hadn’t been careful enough - they’d been waiting for her as soon as she’d logged on. What’s worse, she had a full bag of guns and food on her - her Military Backpack loaded to bursting with goods. Losing that would set her back two weeks, and a lot of it she’d promised to customers. They’d either known that or gotten lucky, because when she’d emerged into the darkness to head towards her gun shop to open for the day, she’d been immediately met with gunfire - the night erupting with light as her health status went from OK to Heavily Injured.
They’d chased her for a block, her using adrenaline shots to keep from limping - her entire supply - and them shooting at her whenever they caught sight of her as she scurried into alleyways, hopping over fences and ducking around buildings as the undead had come shambling out, attracted by the gunfire and roaring for blood.
She could hear two of them ramming themselves at the windows downstairs as she worked on her leg, staring at the progress bar as the bullet was pulled out of her leg. She sterilised it, applied a poultice to speed up healing, and wrapped it in a clean bandage. It’d take real hours to heal to a place where she wasn’t hobbling, and the undead downstairs meant there was very little chance that her assailants didn’t know where she was.
Crouching towards the window of the bedroom, she peeked over the sill to confirm her worst suspicions.
Four flashlights in the darkness - silhouettes with rifles casting long shadows. They were slowly circling her little hideaway, one of them moving towards a house across the street to watch for her to exit and get a better shooting position, one crouching with a long rifle - a Bolt Action, looked like, one of the strongest guns in the game. A gun that only spawned three across the entire map, and she’d found and sold two of them.
The idea that she’d be attacked by her own customers made her swear as she kept her Glock in her hand, kept crouched at the window. Caitlyn had a few ways to play this - one was patience. This game was mostly about patience - people played games to have fun, and if nothing happened for a long stretch, the other players usually got eager for something else to do. Caitlyn had enough food in her backpack to last for a week in-game - about seven hours in real time - and was content to spend seven hours at her PC, feeding her character while she waited.
That option was removed from the table when the sound of a car erupted through her headphones, and a vehicle pulled up, the trunk popping. Through her night vision binoculars, Caitlyn saw a trunk full of food - supplies enough for a proper siege.
She was out of options. They could wait as long as she could. They’d probably wait to see if she bled out up here, come get her in an hour. She could probably fight most of them off if they fully sent it - enough bullets killed anyone - but if they were smart, they’d send someone who had no gear at all just to see if she was alive, on the off chance that she survived. She’d kill them, get nothing for the effort, and they’d know to keep waiting.
Everything about this clan so far screamed smart, and so Caitlyn decided that it was time for a desperation move.
She reached into her pockets, pulled out a server-wide walkie talkie, and typed her message across the entire server:
Killaman (global) : If anyone is receiving this message, I am pinned down by a PVP clan in City North. If anyone can come get me, I can provide weapons and food.
Sp4rk1e (global): how do i get into the police station
messyjink (global): police station’s already raided not worth risk
Vi4lence (global): killa im in city north - got a grid coord
Sp4rkle (global): hi killa!!!! did u already raid police station???
wequad (global) : Need Food? West Farms Has U Covered! Approach The Fence And We Can Trade 4 Guns
Killaman (global): Lence, may I DM you on Discord?
messyjink (global): sparkle the only way 2 get guns is by trade at this point lol, fill water bottles and go 2 someones gun shop
Vi4lence (global): yea, im the same name in the servers disc
Caitlyn pulled up Discord on her second monitor, found Lence's name, and typed:
Caitlyn
Today at 3:11 PM
Hey, do you have numbers?
vi4lence Today at 3:11 PM
its just me
I have a roadster tho - if i grab you they cant catch us
Caitlyn Today at 3:11 PM
There are at least 6 of them
vi4lence Today at 3:11 PM
jesus
whod you piss off?
Caitlyn Today at 3:12 PM
I have no idea, but they were waiting for me as I left my sleeping spot.
vi4lence Today at 3:12 PM
o lol
probably silco and them
they were pissed that you were bogarting all the guns
Caitlyn winced. Silco was one of the biggest clan leaders on the server - he and Marcus constantly got into pissing wars over who had the biggest group, who had the most guns. Doing business with both of them slowed down the PVP raids on the server considerably since she had all the guns and could mediate who had which firearms - even making sure random farmers on the server at least had a chance to defend themselves without one of the two big clans swooping in and scooping them up.
vi4lence Today at 3:12 PM
definitely will be watching the radios and stuff so they know you called for help
Caitlyn Today at 3:12 PM
I think they shot me with the bolty I sold them
vi4lence Today at 3:12 PM
DAMN THEY BROUGHT A BOLTY
thats so fucking funny
they big mad
that makes it kinda complicated ngl, helping you could mean they fuck with my farm group
Caitlyn Today at 3:12 PM
I take this to mean you won’t help me?
vi4lence Today at 3:13 PM
i didnt say that
just means its not up to just me, gimme a sec
The sound of a window thumping downstairs had Caitlyn’s eyes jerking back towards her main screen. She peeked out the window again, saw the car’s brake lights and three flashlights still in the fields surrounding the house. The thumping was rapid and rhythmic, signalling a player character instead of any of the undead. She lifted her Glock 17, shifted so that she was away from the window, and pointed it at the closed door of the bedroom.
The thumping continued for a fourth, fifth, sixth time, followed by a loud thunk as whoever was trying to gain entry got unlucky - the window was now jammed. Only thing to do now was break it with a weapon.
The sound of shattering glass followed this train of thought, and Caitlyn exhaled, her finger on her left mouse button, hovering, ready.
Glass tinkled as the player character leapt through the window, footsteps on the lower level, the sounds of doors opening - one by one, they hunted through the lower level for her. Caitlyn inhaled, exhaled, eyes on her screen as the footsteps moved to the stairs, the slow and steady thump, thump, thump as whoever it was took their time, not wanting to be ambushed.
The footsteps approached the door, and Caitlyn fired six rounds through the wood, the Glock’s silenced pft pft pft pft pft pft penetrating the deep silence that had come from her room. Little pinpricks of light from a flashlight shone through the doorway as she crouched low, moved to the door, opened it to find a body.
It was clothed in nothing special, starter gear. It was armed with a lead pipe -clearly meant to check to see if she was dead. The clan was probably on a voice call, probably able to confirm that she was very much alive, nowhere near bled out as they expected.
Caitlyn lifted the body and threw it down the stairs after rifling through its pockets and stayed in the kid’s bedroom. They were probably expecting her to move, so staying put was the smartest decision. When she glanced out the window again, she saw the flashlights moving to a more comfortable position, lying down with barrels pointed towards her position.
On Discord, she saw the message that made her fill with relief:
vi4lence Today at 3:15 PM
fuck it, we ball
omw - coords?
Caitlyn popped open her map.
Caitlyn
Today at 3:15 PM
I’m in G19 - a house at the northern corner. Do you mind if we voice call?
She was halfway through typing out an explanation as to why the voice call was a good idea when the call sound effect began playing.
“Thank you so much,” Caitlyn said, “I’m in a really tough spot.”
“Hey,” a voice said, low and rich, “you gave me an opportunity to screw over Silco and get me and my farm crew some much needed guns.”
“You’re doing a farm run?” Caitlyn asked, while loading ammunition, bullet by bullet, into all of her magazines. The secret to the game was to always have your character doing something - building skills even in down time. “That’s brave on a PVP server.”
“I know, I know. But it’s really fun - this time we found a spot that’s never been raided. We have a hunting rifle between six of us and a few crafted handguns. It’s enough to fight off solo raiders, but we feel like the big PVP clan is coming at some point.”
The flashlights moved erratically, and a new one joined in - the player who’d been sacrificed to make sure she was dead had respawned and come back to get regeared. When Vi got here, they’d have an uphill battle to get through.
Caitlyn asked, “why do it then?”
“It’s fun, honestly,” Lence admitted, “and my sister’s girlfriend doesn’t really know how to play PVP but started on this server by mistake - it’s how they met. We don’t win in the long run - for some reason, Silco and Marcus always wipe before the 30 day mark when farming really becomes important in this game.”
“I think that’s why,” Caitlyn mused, “they don’t like it when they’ve murdered each other and the whole map is half burned down and the only people still functional are the farms they haven’t been intimidated by either clan.”
“Speaking of,” Lence said, “this is probably going to cost a little extra now that I know I’m extracting you from a clan raid.”
“I have you covered,” Caitlyn said, “let’s get me out of here and then we can talk specifics.”
“Not going to work for me,” Lence replied, “they see my nametag, it’s all over. Silco and Marcus are known for using admin powers to scour the map for people who don’t toe the line. I’m accepting risk by showing up - I need a guarantee that you’ll follow through.”
Caitlyn grimaced, opened her backpack to check through it. Three rifles, four pistols, a shotgun and a hunting rifle - expensive, for sure, but if Vi didn’t need the food she could spare every bit of ammunition she had on her and the guns - especially for a group of farmers who thumbed their nose at the people who’d shot her.
“Okay, how’s this,” Caitlyn said, “the backpack I’ve got on me is yours - I’ll toss it into the car’s trunk the second you get here. That way, even if I die, you get the goods. I’ll need the food, but you can have the bag.”
“What’s in the bag?” Lence asked.
Caitlyn told her.
“Shit, we can probably hold off a good sized raid with that,” Lence said, whistling lowly, “no wonder they want it. I know that being forced to buy from you all the time means that Marcus and Silco are locked in a stalemate - any free guns would push them over the top.”
“After today,” Caitlyn vowed, “Silco’s prices are rising threefold.”
Lence laughed. “Sounds like a plan. I’m already halfway there - I banked my goods already so I’ve got nothing on me in case I die. Should be another five minutes or so.”
A few discord notifications popped up as Caitlyn was on the call, so she left herself loading bullets into magazines as she tabbed over and took a look. One of the randoms on their server’s discord - a person with the role of Silco Gang Gang - @’d her with a link to a twitch highlight.
When Caitlyn clicked it, she was led to Silco’s twitch channel - live to a few dozen people, having clearly just started streaming.
“Welcome one and all,” Silco was saying in the bottom right - the view of the house Caitlyn was trapped in filling Silco’s stream. “Now, I know how you all have been looking forward to the end of the rat hunt, and I am pleased to announce that we finally have her trapped. This player - Killaman - has been stealing every gun for herself ever since we wiped the servers a week ago. As a result, nobody can clan raid without paying her - or when we do, it’s with boring pistols and shotguns. We can’t even raid farms without being worried that they have weaponry - so we decided to put a stop to it.”
Silco moved closer to view the trail of blood in his flashlight that Caitlyn had left behind. “Here’s proof - Trent got her with a bolty as the rat left her hole. We have eyes all over the building - there’s nowhere for her to run. Once we kill her and loot her keys, we can break into the gun shop and finally raid farms to get what we need to take on Marcus. She’ll either bleed out or starve to death in there - we’re playing the long game because we don’t know what she has on her.”
“Uh,” Caitlyn said to Lence, “I think he’s making content out of me.”
“What do you mean?”
Caitlyn copy and pasted the link to vi4lence.
“What an asshole,” Lence muttered, “we’ll show him. Your leg’s busted?”
Caitlyn tested it by moving around the bedroom. “Yup. Limping pretty bad.”
“I’m going to park right by the back door. Toss your bag in the trunk, hop in the back seat, and we’ll burn rubber.”
“Let me know when you’re close,” Caitlyn replied, “I’ll make my way down to the back door to leap out.”
“Start moving now,” Lence said, “I think I see you a few rows away.”
As Caitlyn started moving out of the bedroom, she heard the distant sound of a motor. She couldn’t see the flashlights anymore, but one skimmed through the window of the bottom floor, briefly lighting the inside of the house up as someone outside moved in response to the engine.
Counter raiding was a tactic many people who played used - if you heard gunshots, that meant ammo, and if you snuck up behind the raiders, you could get a profit and quickly. Better still, if they’d made significant progress to taking someone’s food, weapons, and medicine, you could take over for them and gain double the amount for half of the work. It was a tactic most heavily employed by people who didn’t have as long to play as players like Caitlyn did - people who wanted to get online, have some fun, and go back to their regular lives. It was a quick and easy way to get a weapon and some good gear to join the fray of fighting off undead for your continued survival.
Hopefully, Silco and his goons would see this as a counter raid, and prepare to defend themselves - allowing Lence to cruise up to the back door and make good with their escape.
Caitlyn waited by the back door, her Glock in her hands, fresh bandage applied to her bullet wound and painkillers keeping her focused and alert. Pain in the game meant lower accuracy, and if she needed to shoot her way out, she’d need as much accuracy as she could get.
The engine grew louder and louder.
“Ready,” Caitlyn said.
“I’m almost there,” Lence replied, and the sound of pounding heavy metal over the proximity voice chat joined the engine noise as a bright red roadster - the game’s version of a sports car - careened over a hill at the end of the street and swerved in a perfect drift so that the trunk was right in front of the opened back door.
“DID SOMEONE CALL AN UBER,” Lence hollered over the in-game proximity chat as Caitlyn tossed her backpack in the trunk and began limping as fast as her wound could take her towards shotgun.
Across the street, a window shattered as gunfire erupted from inside the house. Lence began shooting back, a pistol in her hand as Caitlyn managed to enter the passenger seat.
“Go,” Caitlyn called, and Lence punched it, the Roadster rocketing away as bullets clanged along the side of it, the person in the house leaping out to race towards the clan’s car. But they were too far away, had to manoeuvre through a field and a back road to figure out where they’d gone off to. Lence swerved through burnt out cars and randomly generated collisions - themselves an excellent source of small amounts of starter loot - and was out of the city in no time flat.
Home free.
“Thank you so much, Lence,” Caitlyn exhaled in relief, “it took me nearly 30 hours of work to get this food. I’d hate to give it up to a bunch of whiners.”
“Thank you ,” Lence laughed, “go check out Silco’s stream. If he was big mad before, he’s large mad now.”
“ Nobody got a look at their name?” Silco was barking at his camera, looking between his chat monitor and his game.
“They were in and out fast,” someone was saying, “I got a few shots in but I don’t think I hit anyone.”
“Nobody? Not one of you caught a name? Whoever did this is going to burn. That fucking rat - let’s mount up, let’s go. I want us shaking down every independent from here to Narnia. If someone is helping the rat out I want to know who they are and what they’re doing, where they’re located, what their defenses are. We’re going scorched earth - I’m sick of this Killaman person taking all our guns and making us pay for them.”
Caitlyn closed the stream, shaking her head.
“Guess we rattled his cage,” she said to Lence.
“Some people take this shit too seriously,” Lence laughed, “but it looks like we need to adjust our deal.”
“You got me out of danger,” Caitlyn said, “I’m more than happy to return the favour. How about this - not only will you get these guns, I’ll offer one more person to shoot them.”
“I thought you were all about selling guns,” Lence responded, “what makes you so good at shooting people?”
“My build has the highest aiming score on this wipe,” Caitlyn replied, smugly, “I’m an excellent shot.”
“Gnarly,” Vi murmured, and then said: “Well, hey, Killa - we may as well introduce you to the rest of the crew. You can heal that bullet wound back at the farm and we can post you up somewhere tall with a hunting rifle so you don’t need to run around too much.”
“That’d be excellent,” Caitlyn replied, “I don’t trust Silco to not try to track down my safehouse while I heal and burn it down.”
“We can stop there in an in game day or so, just in case they come knocking. Also, uh, you can call me Vi - everyone else will.”
“I go by Caitlyn,” Caitlyn said.
“Cool,” Vi replied, “let’s keep the good times rolling."