Outrun – Cyberpunk LitRPG

Chapter 164

Chapter 164

The central point of the approaching wall was just in front of us. They’d gotten close enough that their forms were distinguishable through the sands. And oh man did I wish they weren’t.

Dune Walkers. It was my first time seeing them in the flesh- err, the rotting flesh. The once-human forms walking around with sand-stripped skin were barely recognizable amongst the horde. They clambered over mounds of fallen Dune Walkers, each just as eager as the last to get some fresh human meat. It was even worse close to the APC where massive pile-ups of walkers had to be blasted apart by the big turret to keep sight lines mostly clear. Viscera was everywhere, carried by the shockwaves and wind until our entire environment felt suffused with it.

At first glance, they were similar to ghouls. Both were once humans turned into flesh-hungry monstrosities. Whereas Ghouls were mere monstrous flesh suits for the Aetherial Ghoulification Virus meandering about solely based on their bestial instincts, Dune Walkers seemed to work with a primitive horde intelligence of sorts. Every individual walker was too dumb to use things like cover and dodging, and yet the horde as a whole seemed to be using the pile-ups as cover to close the gap.

Their look was also different. Ghouls were… well, they were pale and clammy with stretched skin barely clinging to what remained of their bodies. They weren’t rotten corpses as much as bodies that had eaten themselves- more accurately, a virus that had eaten the body to the barest working point. 

Dune Walkers were different. They were fully left to the elements, animated without a care for their bodies shape. Flesh slopped and rotted off, sun-scorched and sand-baked to the point of complete disfigurement. Sand caked every bit of the shambling bodies approaching us, looking as though the creatures were golems made from the stuff rather than corpses puppeted around. 

I leaned against the back of the Prowler, reloading my magazines as I took a small break. We’d been fighting for at least an hour, and I’d torn through my ammo. I wasn’t the only one, though I was definitely the slowest when it came to reloading. I’d never been rushed while trying to shove each individual bullet into a mag, and it showed in my slow reload times. Even with Cold-Blooded on to help, my tired hands twitched constantly.

My hand, shaky from the constant vibrations of the rifle, reached for another handful of bullets as I picked up my last empty mag. I tried to go faster this time around, slotting the bullets in as the silent world around me raged with warfare. My ears had gone out shortly after all the fighting started. Unlike the others, I’d never been in combat long enough to realize how important ear protection was. Nothing a nap for Quick Healing couldn’t fix, but until then sound was almost entirely cut off for me. I was left to steep in silence and realize my stupidity, though my raging headache didn't help.

It's a good thing I didn’t need sound for Insight to warn me. It came as a sudden shock from behind, a cold raking sensation down my spine followed swiftly by a latching bite onto the back of my neck. I was worn down to the point I reacted before my brain could fully process. My hand snapped to my pistol as the world slowed around me.

My foot slammed into the ground, every muscle in my leg winding up as I shifted my center mass exactly as I’d been taught while learning Burst Step. Then, with an almost unnatural spring, my muscles tensed as I flung myself away in a perfect dodge. The few follow-up steps stabilized me from the sudden burst of movement as my leg throbbed in pain. Burst Step was incredibly useful, but it came with the drawback of wearing out my legs quickly.

My brain finally caught up with the rest of me as I looked back toward the Prowler. A lone Dune Walker, too caked in sand to make out any distinguishing features, started its attack toward the recently vacated space. Its brain was too far gone to realize I'd already moved. A claw formed from lightning was already mid-swipe, easily slicing through the creature as it jolted what remained of the walker.

With the creature momentarily paralyzed by the electrical shock, I lined up my pistol and fired. One clean shot laced through its head, instantly dropping the thing. I put another two in it just to be sure before finally taking a breath and looking around. How did it get by? No chance it worked its way through the defensive line with the number of guns firing off…

I looked back towards the backside of the rock outcropping. Corpses were scattered around, seemingly having climbed up the rock and up to us. The Mice drivers had taken care of them, but just this one seemed to have slipped through the net. No- not just one. There were several slipped through. The Mice blocked sight lines, making it difficult to fully watch every bit of the rock. Maybe it's for the best that I stayed with Red-Six instead of heading back there. 

I got the feeling eyes were looking toward me, causing me to glance up and meet Hampton’s gaze. Probably drew his attention with my shot. His mouth opened, though, in the absolute quiet of the world, I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I tried to read his lips, but we were all wearing breathing masks, so it was a bit difficult. Based on the situation and the rough movements of his mouth though, I think he was asking if I was alright. 

“Chek. All good.” I flashed a thumbs up as I returned to the back of the Prowler to get my gun. I looked around for a few moments before a frown forced its way onto my face.

Where’s my mag? I shoved the rotting corpse over with my foot, feeling the body squish underfoot as the flesh sludged around. I picked my mag up from its position half buried in the sand, though actually looking into it gave me second thoughts about using it. Rotten sludge filled the entire inside of it, making the mag unusable till I cleaned it out. It probably reeked too, though my mask saved me from the stench. I tossed the mag into the backseat, then grabbed my rifle and slapped more silver bullets into it.

Sergeant Hampton approached, shifting to take up a position behind the Prowler to defend our flank. He eyed me for a few moments before nodding his head and waving towards the main battlefield. Ah, adaptability. Probably another one of those combat rules they talked about earlier. Captains Rules of Combat Number XX: Always remain adaptable.

I turned back just in time to see a massive bolt of lightning descended from the sky close to the APC. The bolt slammed down into a massive pileup of corpses, vaporizing them entirely as the sands below turned into sharp pinpoints of glass. Said glass flew as a shot from the heavy turret hit it, turning the entire area into a miniature glass cluster bomb. The magical remnants left on the glass proved to be just enough to count as a magical weapon as the glass sheered through a massive group.

I flicked on Aetherial Perception in an attempt to track the magic’s origin. It didn’t come from Lia. She was busy firing away into the horde with a haggard look on her face. Guess all that magic she cast earlier was starting to get to her, though she continued to fight on with her gun.

Tracking magic back to its source was difficult. Not impossible though. It was incredibly faint to my eyes, but I barely managed to catch a smoky, electrified trail coming from the APC. Guess they put a bunch of the heavy hitters in it, for better or worse. Made it easier to steamroll, though at the risk of losing your heavy hitters in one fell swoop. Not that it mattered against the idiotic shambling corpses we were up against.

Oh? I refocused on the masses of Dune Walkers. We’d worked through the worst of it, leaving just the stragglers. Gaps in between the shadows were starting to appear, and it looked less like a wall and more like an approaching army. But what really caught my attention was the Dune Walkers themselves. It was the first time I’d been able to see them through the sandstorm with Aetherial Perception active. 

Unlike the Ghouls who had a cloud of malice and hunger that clung to them, the Dune Walkers had what looked like ethereal red tentacles dug in throughout their bodies. The tentacles met up in the head, gathering around a blob. The long tentacles stretched out to wrap around each of the limbs, puppetting them around like parasites.

The one I was looking at caught a silver round to the neck, and the parasitic tentacles reacted to it harshly. The red receded as they flinched and wormed around the silver bullet before ultimately detaching from the corpse and fading away into the Aether. It was almost like they couldn’t exist in the same place as the shiny metal.

I shook my head, raising my gun once more with tired arms as I started shooting into the horde. At the very least, it was good target practice at a bunch of different ranges.

— — —

The last of the Dune Walkers fell, at least on our side. There were plenty more of them pushing the APC and the defensive line set up there, to no success. Really, outside of a few stragglers here and there, not once were we in any danger of actually falling to the masses. The combination of magic, firing lines, and the turrets scattered around the approach kept everything back extremely well.

They weren't too dangerous- no that wasn't right. The Dune Walkers were incredibly dangerous. If I were caught out in the Outlands by myself against them, my chances would be slim. Outside of running away, which would be difficult with the sandstorm, It'd be almost guaranteed death. I just happened to be traveling with the ever-so-competent Crimson Company, so it wasn't that big of an issue.

Yonrow continued to keep watch just in case, but the rest of us trudged back into the Prowler after a call from Sergeant Hampton. Guess we were finally going to get the rest that the Dune Walkers destroyed. 

I couldn’t help but rub my eyes in an attempt to force them open, though the effort made me feel even more drained as my arm finally gave out. I felt like the rest of me was right behind. My legs were screaming in pain from the constant work of trudging through the shifty sands. My heart hurt from the constant beating and pumps of adrenaline. Then there was the entirety of my head that ached with dehydration. It was significantly cooler inside the sandstorm and it was night, but we were still in a desert fighting for several hours. 

I ducked up against the Prowler’s door as I got in, covering my actions with my sand-beat poncho. I summoned the canteen, eager for the sweet taste of water-

Ah… right… I changed it to an energy drink earlier. A sigh escaped my lips as I changed it back to water and banished the thing once more. Instead, I snatched the completely mundane canteen from my bag that’d been handed to me for dinner last night. The water tasted mildewy, though thankfully it was slightly cold. New benefit of the temperature-controlled poncho unlocked.

I wiped my mouth and cast an idle look around at the rest of Red-Six. Lia looked beat. She cast magic every couple of minutes, draining her entirely of energy. Hampton looked slightly less tired, though he kept twitching about as he got into the vehicle. Renold looked the best out of all of us, casually slapping his HMG back into the trunk before calmly walking back to the driver’s side and entering the vehicle.

The ringing in my ears seemed to grow louder in the quiet of the Prowler. The little earbuds that I’d been using provided little relief from almost two hours of constant warfare. Go figure. I needed to get some better sound canceling. Maybe I could slap together something like my drone had to actively silence anything too loud? Or, I could just go get some ear muffs. Maybe I could ask-

Yonrow tapped me on the shoulder, making me realize everyone was staring at me. Renold talked, thankfully without a mask so I could read his lips. “… you hear me?”

”Chek.” Probably best I underplay the injury to my ears. That way it would be less suspicious when I magically healed from the injury once I slept. “Just tired.”

Hampton started speaking- no- laughing. “I feel that.” 

He looked around as the sandstorm started to finally calm down. Visibility cleared up enough for me to see there were just a few straggler Dune Walkers left, though they were quickly being mopped out as a few of the Prowlers left the group. Probably to go scout and see if the battle stirred anything else up.

The Sergeant settled back into his chair, leaning it back ever so slightly. He propped his head behind his hands. I only barely managed to catch his reflection to read his lips as he started talking. “We probably have a while till we need to go do anything. Go ahead and take a nap.” Then, without further adieu, the man closed his eyes to sleep.

For a moment I was torn about sleeping surrounded by strangers. Then the paranoia faded. Maybe it's because I was so damn tired since I didn't get any sleep? Or maybe since a level of camaraderie grew between us after fighting for hours? Or potentially just because I wanted to escape from the tormenting soreness throughout my body? Regardless, as soon as my eyes closed I easily fell asleep.