Clash At Fatal Fields Read online

  As he looked back, he saw four people in the sky above him. Chances were, they’d eliminate him immediately, but he had to try if he wanted to get back home.

  Maybe if he found a good weapon first, he had a chance.

  When Grey’s glider activated, he let out a sigh of relief at the slower rate of falling. His map told him he was somewhere between Salty Springs and Fatal Fields, and he tried to focus on that instead of the people behind him. He needed a weapon, a shield, bandages—then maybe he could defend himself with some luck.

  Finn always liked Fatal Fields, so Grey figured he had a decent chance there. He’d seen the layout of the farm at least, even if he hadn’t played in it himself. He knew there were a lot of chests there, though it could be risky because the buildings offered tight fighting quarters where he could easily be trapped.

  His glider made his movement easier to control. He pushed for the long gray barn, hoping he could get there first and find a good chest to break open.

  He ran as fast as he could once he landed on the dirt, and his footsteps sounded too loud. He didn’t have time to be sneaky, though, not yet. Those other players would be here, coming right for him or grabbing loot to eliminate him with. Everyone was given a pickaxe as default to break down materials for building, and he had seen people fight using the pickaxe as a weapon, but it didn’t do much damage.

  Inside the barn was darker than outside, and his eyes struggled to adjust to the change. There were stalls in the building, as if it housed horses, and he remembered Finn finding items here.

  Sure enough, there was a treasure box in one of the stalls and he opened it. Several things burst out of it, and he grabbed the first gun he saw. It was a pistol. Not good. But there was a shield, and he used it immediately to give himself more protection. And there was ammo, too, so he figured he was better off than when he had no weapon at all. He’d just have to find something else to use in addition. There had to be more in this barn.

  That’s when he heard it—gunfire.

  The flash of a bullet grazed by him, and he ducked down as he searched for the player. He only had nine ammo. Pistol ammo. Which wouldn’t do enough damage to eliminate someone with a shield.

  There was no way he would kill them, so he did the only thing he could think to do. He used his pickaxe to beat at the nearby wall. It gave him wood to build with, but it would also give him an escape route.

  He busted the wall as several shots hit him and burned down his shield. Whatever weapon that player had, it was a lot better than what Grey had found.

  Grey ducked behind the nearest tree, but he could tell already that it was too late for him. The shots kept coming, and then he saw another player appear from the other side. His health dwindled, and soon his vision went gray. Words appeared as he froze in his position:

  Ben eliminated you.

  Just as Grey feared, he was the first one to go down. Maybe it wouldn’t be so easy to get home after all.

  CHAPTER 4

  Grey had to wait and watch until the first battle was over. It was so embarrassing. He wasn’t sure what happened between the fights, but he had a feeling the players talked and someone would definitely make fun of him. Probably a lot of people.

  But he tried not to feel so bad because watching the other players might help him—and he had the option to do that while eliminated from the battle. He didn’t know who was good or who wasn’t, so he decided he’d watch the guy who killed him, “Ben.” The guy had one in his squad, someone named Tristan. Ben had decent aim and got one more elimination, but he was eliminated ranked at number 71. After that, Grey wasn’t sure who to watch, but he immediately thought of Hazel, the confident new player.

  May as well, though she’s probably eliminated already.

  The player list came back up in his vision—just thinking of her name had brought up her feed to select. So he did, and to his surprise, Hazel was still alive. There were only forty people left at this point. So she was actually good, not just talk. Maybe she could get back this season.

  But she didn’t last much longer. When the storm grew smaller, she was in a bad position and barely made it back inside. While she was bandaging, someone discovered her, and elimination was unavoidable.

  She was the last of the people he knew, so Grey jumped through various feeds to watch the top players. It didn’t make him feel great about his chances. These players knew how to build fast and they all had pinpoint aim. They were clearly on another level from him, and it seemed impossible to get that good in just one season. Especially when these people had much more practice.

  He needed help. But who would help the player who was ranked 100 after the first game?

  Once there were only ten players left and the storm encompassed a small portion of the map, the battle didn’t last much longer. Everyone was forced to be close. The fights were fast and furious, and Grey struggled to keep up with what was happening. Finn wasn’t this good. Grey had seen videos online of players like this who could build and strategize faster than he could blink, but his parents hated when he watched that, and they usually made him turn it off the second they saw it.

  Someone named Tae Min took the number 1 ranking for the game. The player wore an armored suit and danced out his or her victory, but Grey had no idea who the person was among all the people he’d seen in the warehouse when he arrived.

  Grey’s vision went black, and he was suddenly back in that warehouse with everyone else, right where he was standing when the battle started.

  One hour until the next Battle Royale! the deep voice called over the speakers. A big timer lit up on a nearby wall, ticking down the seconds until he’d have to do that all over again.

  Right next to the timer was a list of all the players’ names, ranked for the first game. Grey looked away, knowing exactly where he was on it.

  Some people talked among their groups, what Grey guessed were squads in the game. Others argued. Many people headed outside the warehouse; to where, Grey didn’t know. Several people approached the new players, but the majority came up to Hazel.

  “You have some serious skills, girl,” a woman who looked to be Grey’s mom’s age said. “We have an opening on our squad, what do you think about joining us?”

  “What are your names?” Hazel said with a satisfied grin. “I want to check your rank before I commit to anything.”

  “Hey! I need a group! I was rank 78,” the older man said.

  “Me, too!” the football player chimed in. “I finished at 59! That’s not bad for my first time!”

  Grey backed up. It would be pointless to ask for a group with his name at the bottom of the list. As he did, he bumped into someone. “Oh, sorry …”

  It was the new girl with the long ponytail. She began to walk away, and she looked like she was about to cry. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She must have ranked badly, too. He looked at the rankings board, and just above him was someone named Kiri. That could have been a girl’s name. Maybe it was her. “You get a bad rank, too? Are you Kiri?”

  She glared at him, then turned and kept walking.

  He decided to follow. Because maybe they wouldn’t be the best team ever, but it had to be better than nothing. “I’m not trying to make fun of you! I’m dead last!”

  “Go away!” the girl yelled.

  They left the warehouse, and to his surprise there was a vast space outside that looked a lot like the game. There were buildings and hills, trees and brush to hide behind. The nearest structures looked like they might be cabins to stay in, as several people stood outside them. There was also a large clearing and another warehouse, but this one looked like it was set up for practicing.

  Kiri didn’t stop walking, but sped up to a run once they got outside.

  “Hey wait!” he called out.

  “Just leave me alone!” she yelled as she ran into the woodsy area by the cabins. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

  He stopped walking. She obviously didn’t want help,
and it wasn’t like he had much time to convince her before the next battle. He’d have to change his plans if even the second-worst player wouldn’t team up with him.

  Maybe it was better to check out the practice area.

  Because even if he was rank 100, he wasn’t about to give up. Sometimes games were unlucky, and he might do better next time. Maybe if he got a decent rank next game, people would see that he could improve at least.

  Sure enough, when he got to the other warehouse, words popped up in his vision: Activating Practice Mode. The inventory slots from Battle Royale appeared at the right side of his vision, as well as those for materials. He could pull out a pickaxe when he couldn’t before. Several people had items from inside the game. They shot at each other, but no one seemed to be taking damage. He didn’t see a shield or health meter like in the game, so they must have been disabled in practice. The other players built structures and ran around them, freely talking about what might be a good spot to stand in or how to aim with their weapons.

  As he walked by, they would stop talking and stare at him. They must not have wanted him to hear their strategies. So much for learning from others. People appeared to be in their chosen squads, and he felt left out once again.

  But Grey wouldn’t let that stop him. He marched into the warehouse, where there were items lined up on the walls for the taking. He grabbed a rifle—how he wished he’d gotten that instead of a pistol in the first game. There was no ammo, but the gun showed an infinity sign next to it. Practice weapons must not have had the restrictions they had in the game. He decided to take a few others to test out. The least he could do was work on his aim.

  “Hey, 100,” a boy’s voice said.

  Grey turned around, finding a blond-haired boy with a confident grin. He had a feeling this wouldn’t be a nice conversation. “Hey?”

  “It’s me, Ben,” the boy said with a laugh. “I got you first.”

  “Oh.” Grey didn’t know what to say, but his face felt hot.

  “Don’t worry too much—no one stays 100 for more than a game,” Ben continued. “Averages, you know? How old are you?”

  “Twelve,” Grey said.

  “Cool, I’m thirteen. And where are you from?”

  “California,” Grey said.

  “Nice, I’m from Utah.” Ben held up his rifle. “Me and my buddy Tristan are doing some hide and seek. Wanna practice with us?”

  “Really?” Grey could hardly believe it, since this was the guy who killed him without mercy in the game. “That’d be awesome.”

  “Let’s go find him, then. He’s had more than enough time to get in position.” Ben headed outside the practice warehouse, and Grey followed closely behind. Now that death wasn’t imminent, he realized running didn’t make him winded. So this wasn’t his real body, even if it felt like it. There didn’t seem to be pain, either. At least that was nice. “The practice zone is this whole area, plus those hills and the ghost town that way. If you go outside it, your items disappear and you can’t get hit.”

  “Got it.” Grey searched over the area, noting there were several obstacles that mimicked the game. Rocks and trees to be broken down for materials, huts and buildings to use as cover.

  “Bet he’s at the ghost town,” Ben said. “Tristan likes tight-quarters fighting, even if he’s not great at it.”

  “Why would he like it if he’s bad at it?” Grey asked.

  “More exciting.” Ben slowed his pace as they approached the most predictable version of an Old West ghost town possible. It was a long street with tattered wood buildings on both sides. Grey half expected the tumbleweeds to blow in the wind, but they stayed in place. He realized there wouldn’t be a breeze in a video game. They crouched behind a batch of hay bales. “By the way, Tristan is a bit cranky. Don’t let it get to you.”

  “Cranky?” Grey repeated.

  Ben shrugged. “Yeah, not friendly? But he’s not a bad guy. He’s from Germany—I don’t think the translator helps. He’s just really … honest. He might be cranky that I brought you, but he’ll be fine. He’s just upset we didn’t get home in the last season. Again.”

  This warning did not make Grey feel good about agreeing to this, as much as he wanted to learn from other players. “Should I go back?”

  “Oh, no! Stay,” Ben said. “Back me up, okay?”

  “I’ll try …”

  Ben stepped out and ran for what looked like a saloon, with the swinging doors and everything. Grey followed right behind, and a few shots broke the windows and hit Ben. He didn’t falter, although his body blinked red as he took the shots. “I knew he’d be here! Change of plans—you go around back. There’s a door to the kitchen. He’ll never guess you’re smart enough for that.”

  “Okay.” Grey tried to ignore the slight insult because he was learning. And he needed to do as much of that as possible. While Ben shot through the swinging door and Tristan shot back, Grey jumped over the porch railing and headed to the back door.

  For the first time since entering this hacked version of Battle Royale, Grey felt himself smile. This was a lot more fun when his rank didn’t depend on it. He didn’t feel like he had to be perfect. Maybe he didn’t know Ben or Tristan, but he could pretend for a second that he was playing with Finn from his computer at home.

  The shots Tristan and Ben exchanged drowned out the sound of Grey’s footsteps. He opened the back door and raised the gun he’d chosen. It was a “scar,” one of the best. Grey peeked around the kitchen corner. There was a boy with sandy blond hair who was very tall and skinny. Grey assumed this was Tristan, who was shooting from the staircase and didn’t even see him.

  Grey had the perfect shot, so he took it.

  The boy was startled, and his eyes immediately went to Grey’s position. “What the—?”

  Ben burst in from the front of the saloon, laughing hard. “Got you! I brought backup this time. This is Grey.”

  “Rank 100?” Tristan gave Grey a skeptical look. “Why’d you bring him? He was awful.”

  So there was the cranky honesty Ben warned Grey about.

  “He came right to the practice area after the game.” Ben shrugged. “I dunno, shows determination at least. I think he’s got potential if he’s willing to work hard.”

  Tristan sighed. “We can’t keep picking up scrubs, Ben. We need a better squad.”

  “Well, they won’t recruit us!” Ben replied. “And it’s better to be grouped anyway. He took my directions perfectly.”

  “He’ll leave us like the rest have.” Tristan glared at Grey. “He’ll get a few skills and some other group will recruit him like always. Unless you just want to stay in here forever, ranked in the seventies and sixties.”

  “You’re so negative,” Ben grumbled. “I’m just trying to help us.”

  Grey realized this might be his only chance to have a group, and he wasn’t about to let it pass by. “I won’t leave you. I promise. Why would I leave?”

  “That promise will mean nothing when a top squad has an open spot.” Tristan leaned on the stair railing. “We’d all betray each other for a chance to escape.”

  “C’mon, Tris,” Ben said. “Even after all this time?”

  “Wouldn’t even feel bad,” he replied.

  Ben looked hurt, but he tried to push it back. “Well, you won’t get recruited if we don’t have a full squad. We need teamwork to boost our ranks—neither of us is a soloer. Can’t we just give him a chance? Like you said, nothing is permanent.”

  “Fine, a chance,” Tristan said as he headed for the saloon’s front exit. “Let’s go, next battle will be starting soon.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Ben gave Grey a big smile. “I swear he’s nicer than he looks—he’s just been here for a long time without much progress. Some days, he thinks he’ll never get out.”

  “How long?” Grey asked as he made his way across the room to leave with Ben.

  “Since the beginning. Five whole seasons.” Ben walked with him while Tristan stay
ed several paces ahead.

  “Ten months? That sucks.” Grey could hardly believe it … and Tristan would be here another two months at least. A full year of his life. Stuck in a video game.

  “It’s not so bad,” Ben said, although his smile wasn’t as bright as it had just been. “No homework. Or parents yelling at you. Or chores. I mean, I’ve missed all of seventh grade at this point, but I hear it’s overrated.”

  “Yeah …” Grey felt a chill run up his spine. So Ben had been here that long, too. Would Grey spend the next year of his life in Battle Royale? Not that he knew the exact odds of getting out, but they felt a lot smaller all of the sudden.

  Next Battle Royale in one minute! The deep voice sounded throughout the area.

  “Ready to boost that rank?” Ben asked.

  Grey nodded. “So ready.”

  The seconds ticked down, and even though they were nowhere near the warehouse Grey had first landed in, his vision grew dark and he prepared for what he’d see next—the blue Battle Bus and the island that held his fate.

  CHAPTER 5

  Maybe Ben and Tristan were ranked only in the seventies after the first battle, but Grey was more than happy to have them on his side for this game. Unlike the all-anonymous players of last battle, this time “Ben” and “Tristan” hovered above two players nearby. They were both girl avatars in standard garb like him, but they had backpacks that were striped. That must have been one of the rank indicators.

  “Let’s go Salty Springs,” Tristan said.

  “Should be enough loot for all of us there,” Ben said. “Just follow behind us, Grey. Play backup like in practice.”

  “Got it.” Grey was determined to make a good impression this time. Surely he wouldn’t be last in rank with these guys on his squad.

  “Oh, and it’s squad rule that I deal out the items,” Tristan said. “So the good stuff isn’t wasted on new players like you.”