Jacker's Exploit: ZPOCALYPTO - A World of GAMELAND Series, #8

By Saul Tanpepper

WHAT IF THE ONLY WAY TO CHEAT IS TO WIN?

 

With a hard deadline to leave the island now in play, Jessie and the remaining survivors of this deadly twist on The Game must find a way to escape, even if it means playing dirty. And with so much at stake and outside forces doing everything they can to prevent them from leaving, they may not have a choice.

Episode 08 in this relaunch of Saul Tanpepper's popular cyberpunk zombie apocalypse series GAMELAND is the deadliest yet, as our players take it to the next level against the undead and the living, all while desperately seeking a way out of the arcade.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brinestone Press
• Release date: Nov 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223395621

Saul Tanpepper

Subscribe for new releases & exclusive deals/giveaways: tinyletter.com/SWTanpepper Saul Tanpepper is the specfic pen name of author Ken J. Howe, a PhD molecular biologist and former Army medic and trauma specialist.  Titles include: The post-apocalyptic series GAMELAND (recommended reading order): - Golgotha (prequel, optional) - Episodes 1-4 - Velveteen (standalone novella, optional) - Episodes 5-8 - Infected: Hacked Files From the Gameland Archive (insights for the avid GAMELAND fan) - Jessie's Game #1: Signs of Life - A Dark and Sure Descent - Jessie's Game #2: Dead Reckoning Post-apocalyptic series BUNKER 12 - Contain - Books 2-4 (coming soon) International medical thriller serial THE FLENSE (a BUNKER 12 companion series) - CHINA: Books 1-3 - ICELAND: Book 1-3 - AFRICA: Books 1-3 - TBA Short story collections: Shorting the Undead & Other Horrors Insomnia: Paranormal Tales, Science Fiction, and Horror Visit him at tanpepperwrites.com

Book preview

PART ONE

Hellos and Goodbyes

Chapter 1

Two weeks.

That’s how long it’s been since our lives got flipped upside down and had the shit kicked out of them. Two long, terrifying weeks. And it’s finally coming to an end.

It was two weeks ago today that Micah drove us down to lower Manhattan in his old beat up Ford to check whether we could even find the opening to the Midtown Tunnel. Two weeks since we lied to the checkpoint guards. We thought we were being so clever, pretending to be innocent kids on a summer school assignment, not a bunch of delinquents intending to break a dozen national security laws. I’d laugh at how stupid we were, except that people died because of it.

What I’d give to be standing at the railing in flooded South Manhattan again, looking down through the murky water and declaring that was a lost cause. If we’d only just turned around and went home and forgot about trying to sneak into a wasteland filled with flesh-eating monsters, we’d all still be alive. Bored is better than dead. Or undead.

But no. Instead, as we searched for the opening of the tunnel below the surface, we weren’t just blinded by the sunlight reflecting straight back into our eyes, but by our own damn recklessness. By visions of the thrills awaiting us at the other end. We’d convinced ourselves that the dead would really all be gone, their flesh rotted away and their bones turned to dust. After all, nothing can survive without eating after so many years. Right? Maybe a part of us hoped there might be one or two, just for laughs. Then we could really say we’d done something remarkable with our last free summer, instead of just slaying the digital dead.

The universe kept right on sending us signals to stop our foolishness. We ignored them all.

How many times have we cheated death?

If only we had just heeded those warnings. We were too enthralled on the idea that we were finally breaking out of the box the universe had shoved us into.

Images flash into my mind:

Sitting in the car on Kelly’s lap, the old abandoned Teterboro Airport drifting past. Sunlight glinting off the swampy water. The old abandoned hangars poking up like islands.

The old football field of the Meadowlands lost beneath a shimmering sea of green and rust.

The sky that day had been impossibly blue, not a cloud anywhere. Nothing between us and the horizon but land and sea and endless opportunity.

And the echoes of Reggie’s excited howls out the window as we flew down the elevated portion of I-95 into Central Park. The sound now haunts me. The laughter rings hollow inside of me. The soft, warm kisses Kelly and I exchanged, while Ashley begged us to get a room, now cold on my lips. We were all so giddy with life. So. Stupidly. Alive.

Tomorrow, it’ll be two weeks to the day that we went out to the reservoir. Jake trying so hard to fit in. Nervous, poisonous tension driving a wedge between us, between Kelly and me. Two weeks ago, Jake was just some kid we’d all met for the first time, a boy with a boy’s crush on me and a boyish desire to be a part of our little ‘grown-up’ group. Two weeks ago he was alive, maybe even more than the rest of us. Now he’s...

I don’t know what to believe. The last thing I saw before I woke up after he bit me was...

I don’t know. He looked...

He looked like he recognized me. But if he was alive and aware, why would he bite me? And if I was wrong and he really had died, then why would he run? Why would he hide? The dead don’t act like that.

It’s driving me crazy. I need to know what he is now. And yet, a part of me hopes Micah and Brother Walter never find him. The Jake we know is gone. Whether alive or dead, he’s a part of this place now.

Just like you, J. You and Kelly. You belong here now. You can never leave.

And what about Ashley?

Of all of us, she should never have come after that day she nearly drowned.

But she didn’t die. And neither did Kelly, the day Micah threw him over the railing. Nor did I, deep inside the tunnel when that zombie grabbed me. We didn’t die. It was just like being in a game, where you never really die. It gave us a false sense of invulnerability.

And now Ashley is dead. I imagine she must be out there somewhere in the woods, resurrected. I really don’t want to think about her like that.

We were so goddamn arrogant, thinking we were untouchable.

Two weeks spent fighting for our lives, even when we didn’t know we were. So yeah, Eric can’t come soon enough.

I turn my gaze westward, in the direction where I expect he’ll be coming from. The late afternoon sun is hovering just above the treetops, glowing like the leaves are burning. The shadows are getting long. They stretch their eager fingers toward us through the fence, like nightmare monsters trying to claw their way in. Soon, darkness, like a restless corpse, will crawl out of the woods and consume us.

My pulse quickens. Hurry up, Eric.

I check the time on my Link. Six thirty. Sunset won’t be for another two and half hours. We should be gone long before night falls.

I wonder what Eric will say when I tell him Brookhaven must be our first stop. What will he think about Heall? What will he say when I explain that we need to find him and warn him about Ben?

I can’t even think about what will happen after that.

What will Eric say?

I don’t know. I suppose it depends on how he reacts to the news that Kelly and I will have to stay. He won’t want to leave me, but he’ll have no choice if we’re going to live longer than a few months. He’ll just have to take Reggie and go. Reggie and Micah.

Will he arrest Micah on the spot? Will he take him back to be tried by the courts? Or will Arc secrete him off someplace where they can quietly interrogate him, all the while whitewashing the harm he and the Coalition did? It makes me wonder why he hasn’t tried to run off yet. Unless he has other plans. I wouldn’t put it past him.

He’s dangerous, I croak. My voice is hoarse, phlegmy from fighting this infection. The ache in my side is a dull thing, no worse than the pain in my back. Or my shoulder. Or my thigh.

Reg? I say, a bit louder. He raises his head and looks at me for the first time since we found Ashley’s Link. I check all around us, but I don’t see Micah anywhere. Maybe he’s already made a run for it. Come on, Reg. Get up. We’re not done yet.

No, he moans.

We need to tie him up. We need to tie Micah up.

But he just sits there and doesn’t move. Ashley’s bloody Link has slipped from fingers. The image of her body still shows on the screen. He’s shutting down, giving up. What if he refuses to leave when Eric shows up? What if he decides he has to go find her instead? Or Ben? He’ll want to kill him. And I wouldn’t blame him. I know what that kind of anger and hatred feel like. I felt that way just an hour ago. But not anymore. Eric’s coming, and we finally have a chance to break the script. Of course, I know Ben’s dying, and that helps. Or maybe I’m just a coward.

The Players outside the fence haven’t settled down from Reggie’s earlier outcry. I think Arc lost control of them. They continue to agitate, rattling the inert wire. The good thing is, without a network, their Operators can’t gain control of them, either.

What would they do if they could?

Kill us all.

Damn spoiled, stupid, rich pricks, all of them.

I check the gate latch to make sure it’s secure. Out of curiosity, I flip open the cover on the panel. I don’t know why. It’s not like the code will spontaneously come to me if I stare at the keypad. And of course the numbers don’t materialize inside my head. Maybe Sister Jane or Brother Walter knows what they are. Presumably, Brothers Matthew and Nicholas knew them.

You got to get out of there. And that ain’t goin to be so easy.

That’s what Ben had said, when he told us about the second wave, the CUs he was sending our way. He made us believe they would be the last. But of course he’d lied. There’s more. That picture of Ashley was a message, telling me he’s not finished.

But what exactly is it?

Don’t fall for it. You have a chance to leave, so do it.

Reg, come on. I lay a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t respond. He’s lost, trapped inside his grief. Come on, big guy. We got stuff to do before Eric gets here. I grab a handful of shirt and pull, not because I have any hope of lifting him to his feet, but to break through his grief. I grunt as pain rips through my side. The salve that Sister Jane put on me is finally starting to wear off. I cough, and my lungs feel more congested than before. I’m starting to feel feverish again. I tell myself that it’s probably just my exhaustion setting in now. The adrenaline my body produced when I was facing certain death is starting to leave my system. But I feel another flutter of panic. What if the treatment really doesn’t work for me? What if I just made myself believe I was recovering?

No, it’s just exhaustion. And the fact that I haven’t eaten all day. I need to put something in my stomach, but I’m not hungry.

Not even for brains?

I tell that obnoxious voice inside my head to shut up, but it laughs at me and won’t leave me alone. It’s starting to sound like Micah.

Why don’t zombies eat cheese with their fingers?

Shut up.

Because fingers go better with brain.

Reggie, please. You need to get up.

Get it? Better with brain?

What does it matter now? he moans.

I’ve got a million of them, J. Zombie zingers! Why did the IU go to the doc—

Enough already! I scream. I let go of Reggie’s shirt and throw my hands over my ears, as if to block the voice inside my head. It doesn’t work.

Reggie looks up, startled. The tears on his cheeks glisten. He says my name, and his voice is filled with such misery it breaks my heart.

Please, Reg.

She’s gone. Ashley’s gone. She’s... dead.

I don’t know what to say. I fear anything I do say will make him want to go after Ben, and I just can’t let that happen. We’re so close now.

She’s gone, he chants. He lifts his face to me and wipes the snot from his nose. I know he’s waiting for me to say something.

I know, and I’m truly sorry. But she wouldn’t want you to mourn her like this. She’d want you to live.

Okay, he says, finally nodding, and pushes himself to his feet. Let’s go find that asshole.

But there’s something in his eyes I don’t trust. I’m not sure he doesn’t mean Ben.

Chapter 2

Looks like he’s found us instead, I say, pointing.

Micah’s loping across the field toward us. Anger bubbles up inside of me again. I guess I’d been hoping he’d just disappear altogether, just leave and never bother us again. I don’t want anything to do with him. Let him rot among the dead, for all I care.

There you guys are, he says, panting. I didn’t see you right away and—

What do you want? Reggie growls.

I just—

Haven’t you done enough damage?

Do you really want to do this now, Reg?

We’re not doing anything right now, I warn each of them. We’re just going to sit tight and wait for Eric.

Did you find Jake? Reggie grumbles.

Micah shakes his head.

Then keep looking.

No, I snap. Stay here.

Look, Micah says, shaking his head at Reggie. I don’t know what—

Yes you do, asshole.

Reggie, I say, shaking my head sternly at him. Now’s not the time or the place.

Why not?

Look, whatever you guys think I did— No, scratch that. I can explain.

We don’t want your excuses, Reggie snaps.

Micah turns to me. You’ve got it all wrong, Jessie. Both of you do.

I bend down and swipe Ashley’s Link off the ground and hurl it at Micah’s chest. He reacts quickly, just like he always does, and snatches it out of the air before it can hit him. When he sees the screen, he manages to look shocked. He even goes visibly pale.

He’s a good actor, I remind myself.

Who took this?

Who do you think, asshole?

He shakes his head, feigning innocence.

Ben, I snarl.

Who?

Your Coalition pal. You’ve been talking to him all day, haven’t you?

What? No! I don’t even—

"Don’t give me that bullshit, Micah. This is all on you! You killed her! Maybe not with your own hands, but—"

Don’t waste your time with him, Jess, Reggie says. He lays a hand on my arm to calm me. I shake it off.

You remember what you said about her? I shout. Micah flinches when the Players on the other side of the fence lean into the wire and moan. Hard on the outside. You remember that? Hard on the outside and soft inside! But she was tougher than you will ever be! At least she stood up to that psycho!

Reggie pleads with me to stop. He anxiously eyes the dead just a few feet away.

Whatever he did to her, I’m going to make damn sure they do to you ten times over! She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve any of it! But you couldn’t care less about her, could you?

He stares at me, blinking and gawping stupidly. I want to wipe that stupid look off his face. I want to—

Jess, he’s finished, Reggie gently reminds me. "Let’s all just get back home and let someone else sort it out.

Fine, I say. Get me the hell out of here. I can’t stand the sight of this— this—

You’re wrong, Jessie, Micah tells me as I march off. His voice is cold and flat, almost menacing. And suddenly I feel exposed, like it would be very easy for him to pull a knife out of his pocket and jam it between my shoulder blades. You’re all wrong. About everything.

"Not another word, asshole, Reggie growls. No one wants to hear any of your bullshit excuses, you fucking two-timing traitor. Just stay the fuck away from us."

So that’s it? You don’t even to hear my side of the story?

I don’t want to hear you, I spit, spinning around and raising my finger into his face. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want you anywhere near me or Reggie or Kelly. Do you understand?

He doesn’t respond right away. He pretends like he’s the poor misunderstood victim. I wait for him to pull the knife out, whether figurative or real. I expect him to lash back at me. Instead, he gives me this look. I’ve seen it before, but I won’t be fooled this time.

You need to know something about me, Jess, he says. His voice is different now, full of pain and regret.

He’s luring you in again, J. Don’t listen to him!

I didn’t want any of this to happen, he starts to say.

But I don’t let him finish. My anger is a tidal wave. It breaches the levees of my self-control. Even if I wanted to hold back, I couldn’t. I can’t stop what happens next. Suddenly, it’s like I’m a passenger in my own body, a witness to someone else controlling me inside my head. This is the kind of thing Master Rupert always worked with me to overcome. He tried to help me understand it so that I could master it. But I never did. I never knew where it came from, only that it was always somewhere deep inside of me, hiding. Lurking. It’s that part of me that took over the day I attacked Eric. It’s the monster I was born with. There were times I tried to find it, to locate where it sleeps so I could lock it up and block it from ever coming out again. Master Rupert always said if I knew how to call it forth at will, then I could understand and vanquish it. But the monster hides too well, too deep, and it won’t be beckoned. If it comes, it comes of its own volition, ready to fulfill its own purpose, to sate its own hunger. I can’t control it. I never could.

And it comes now, raging with hatred, and this time I stand back and let it.

I spin and chamber my leg without even thinking. My knee straightens. My foot thrusts out. I hear a crack as Micah’s head whips around. Blood and spittle fly from his mouth. He pirouettes, then goes down. His body slams into the grass with a soft thud. He doesn’t make a sound. He lands awkwardly, his arms and legs splayed out. He doesn’t get up.

I turn back to Reggie. He stares at Micah, his mouth agape. After a second, he whispers, Jesus Christ, Jessie. What did you do?

He deserved it, I growl, and start to walk away. Already the monster is crawling back into its hole. It’s satisfied. Until next time, anyway.

I think you broke his neck.

Don’t be absurd.

But he laughs nervously and runs his hands through his hair. I’m serious, Jess. I think you— I think he’s dead. I think you killed him.

I frown down at Micah, not wanting to believe it. I couldn’t have. I didn’t mean to.

No? You wanted him dead, and now look.

Reggie’s got the same look in his eyes that Eric had for weeks after I attacked him. He was terrified of me. That look has haunted me ever since. It’s filled me with shame and self-loathing.

What have you done, Jessie?

For a moment, neither of us moves. Then Micah groans. Reggie hurriedly steps back, his eyes widening in fright. But I let out an exhale of relief, because I know it’s not what Reggie thinks. Micah isn’t dead. I didn’t kill him, and he hasn’t reanimated. No one reanimates that quickly. Plus, he hasn’t been infected.

Reggie staggers backward into the fence. He’s lucky it’s not live. He stays there until the Players lunge at him, reaching through the wire and grabbing his shirt and hair. One leans over and tries to bite him through the mesh. Its teeth rake against the wire, but it can’t reach flesh.

Reggie pushes himself off the fence. I reach out to help him, and he yelps and avoids my touch. That same feeling comes over me again, the shame that always takes hold of me whenever I’ve lost control. Even big, strong Reggie is afraid of me now.

I didn’t kill him, I say again. But Micah still hasn’t opened his eyes. And so, despite knowing it’s impossible, I start believing that maybe I did.

He moans and raises his arm.

Oh, shit, Reggie cries. He’s reanimating! Do something!

Check his pulse.

You check his pulse!

I can see him breathing.

He’s fucking dead!

Damn it, Reggie! I snatch his hand and yank him toward Micah. He resists, but I snap at him to stop being such a coward. I place his fingers on Micah’s carotid. Feel that? He has a heartbeat. The fact that he has one means he’s not dead. If he’s not dead, I didn’t kill him.

But—

No. Stop acting like a baby. I just knocked the crap out of him. He had it coming.

But his neck—

Is fine. See? He’s moving his legs now. I shove him away, retrieve Ashley’s Link from where Micah dropped it, and thrust it into Reggie’s hands. Stop being such a fucking drama queen about everything. Micah betrayed us. He deserved that. He deserves worse, but we’ll let the police deal with him once we get back.

Not we.

The Players rattle the fence. I scream at them to shut up, but of course this only gets them even more riled up. And the fact that they don’t listen to me just makes me even more furious. I’m coming for you! I scream past them. Do you hear me, you fuckers? I’m coming for all of you!

The undead are way beyond any sort of control anymore. They hurl themselves toward me, hissing and snapping their jaws.

"Yeah,