How To Avoid Death On A Daily Basis: Book One Read online

  People returned from the bathrooms looking unhappy. Most RPG games didn’t take their realism all the way to needing toilet breaks, but I assumed facilities would be on the basic side. A hole in the ground, even.

  As I tried to look for clues as to what kind of world this was and what it required from me, someone sat next to me. I turned to find the squinty black guy with the Batman onesie. I wondered if he was even a real person. If I really had become part of an advanced virtual reality game without knowing it, these people could all be computer-controlled NPCs.

  Then again, who would program a character to look like this? Clearly he was another player, and judging by his appearance, maybe a huge nerd. He might actually be better at these sorts of games than me.

  “Hey,” he said, “it’s like we’re inside some kind of computer game, isn’t it. My names Maurice, by the way.”

  “Colin,” I said with a nod. “So, are you good at video games?”

  “Can’t stand ‘em. I’m a board game purist, myself.”

  Turned out he was such a huge nerd, even in the age of nerd empowerment, he ranked as totally useless.

  6. FAQ

  Captain Grayson stood at the front, leaning on his desk like the cool teacher at school, only better armed, although I guess that depends on what kind of school you went to. He waited until everyone was back from the loo before straightening up and slapping his hands together.

  “RIght. First things first, you’ll be wanting to know where you are, how you got here, and why. That’s the big one, right? So, this town you’re in is called Probet. It’s in a country called Flatland, because it’s very flat.”

  He raised his eyebrows like he’d revealed a valuable secret. When he got no response, he turned and pointed at the map behind him.

  “We’re this bit in the middle. Nothing much here but farmland and forests. These are the four major cities.” He pointed to circular marks at the top, bottom, left and right of the map. “We can go into more about them later.”

  He faced front again and folded his arms and took in a deep breath like he wasn’t looking forward to telling us the next part and needed to prepare himself. The room hushed in anticipation.

  “As for how you got here and why, nobody really knows.”

  A wave of grumbling and muttering washed over the unhappy audience.

  “I know, it’s not what you wanted to hear, but that’s how it is. For the last century, every leap year, on the longest day of high summer, a group of young people appear in the glen where you woke up. Sometimes it’s three or four, sometimes, as in this case, it’s many more. These people are destined for greatness. If they can survive, that is. I won’t sugarcoat the truth for you, this is a hard land to live in, even for those of us born here. There are many things that will try to kill you. But if you can adapt, there are also great rewards that you can claim. Some of those who came before you have become legends.”

  He sat back on the corner off the desk, very much giving off an impression of mission accomplished.

  Golden Boy stood up a few rows behind me and spoke in a loud, irritated voice. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but we want to go home. Now. If you’re not going to tell us what’s really going on, give me a phone.”

  “Don’t be such a dick,” said another guy. This one had a highly-groomed beard and a short back and sides so severe it must have been sculpted with a chisel. He didn’t have a top on and one arm was covered in a sleeve tattoo. “Obviously they don’t have phones here. Did you not see that thing out there? I want answers just as much as you, bruv, but we ain’t going home any time soon, I can tell you that much.”

  “You’re the dick, mate,” Golden Boy shot back. “Can’t you tell we’re being pranked? Probably cameras all over this place. Everyone’s having a good laugh at us, ha, ha, ha. Well fuck that. I’ve got better things to do than provide entertainment for free.”

  The two alphas continued to snap at each other as more people joined in the pointless debate. I noticed Captain Grayson yawning. He had a ‘seen it all before’ expression on his face and seemed in no hurry to intervene.

  “Just stop for a second,” said one of the girls, practically shrieking in order to get everyone’s attention. She was tall and athletic-looking, with straight brown hair in a bob, although her oversized white tee shirt made it hard to get a proper idea of her figure. Not that I was looking. “This is getting us nowhere. Let’s at least hear him out.” She turned to Grayson. “What is it we’re expected to do here?”

  “Ah, okay,” said Grayson. “First we need to get you some clothes. Then each of you will be given a weapon. We only have a limited selection, but they’ll do for now. We’ll feed you for the next three days, but after that you’ll be expected to provide for yourselves, same as everybody else.”

  “Provide for ourselves how?” asked the girl.

  “There’s only one way,” said Grayson. “By killing monsters.”

  7. Equip Weapon

  “I’m a student, for God’s sake,” screamed the girl. “I don’t know how to kill monsters.”

  “Now, now, don’t get hysterical,” said Captain Grayson, which is never a good thing to say to a hysterical woman. “Nobody expects you to hunt down ogres and wyverns. There are plenty of smaller, less dangerous beasts that I’m sure you’ll be able to handle.”

  “I don’t care,” the girl said in the same high-pitched shriek. “I don’t want to kill anything! I’m not a murderer.”

  This was met by a chorus of agreement from the girls sat beside her.

  “I’m sorry,” said Captain Grayson, “but this land is overrun with monsters. It’s just a fact of life here. You don’t have to kill them if you don’t want to, but they certainly will try to kill you. We don’t call them monsters for nothing. Even if you don’t plan on hunting, you need to be able to defend yourselves. That’s why I’m going to give you each a weapon.”

  He signalled two of his men who had appeared in the doorway carrying an assortment of weapons which they handed out randomly.

  “These aren’t all that great, but they’re all we have. Feel free to swap them among yourselves if you want.”

  There was more grumbling as the type of weapon each person received varied greatly. And I mean greatly.

  People who received small swords, daggers and machetes seemed quite pleased. The ones who got handed sticks, metal rods and rocks attached to a bit of wood, less so. One guy got a whip—which looked cool but not that practical— and I saw a girl look horrified as a spiked ball was thrust at her. It wasn’t attached to anything, just a ball with spikes.

  I was one of the people to get a stick. I think they had run out of real weapons and somebody had gone out and dug up a fence or something so we’d all have something. It was a bit like a baseball bat, so it could probably do a bit of damage, assuming it didn’t break in half.

  Maurice got a metal rod, about the size of a fire poker. It was too thin to do any serious damage, but if he sharpened the end he could probably take someone’s eye out.

  Once everyone had their weapon, the trading started. Or at least, attempted trading. It was pretty obvious which weapons were better, and everyone wanted to trade up, not down. Arguments broke out, and now that everyone was armed, things felt quite scary. The soldiers stepped in and pushed people back into their seats.

  “I know this isn’t ideal,” said Grayson, “but you will very quickly be able to get yourself something better. Don’t get hung up on anything right now, it’s all temporary.” He smiled with such confidence and lack of concern, it made me think things weren’t going to be so bad.

  If this really was a game, a crappy weapon to start off with would be normal. I’d soon find a decent sword or axe or something. In the meantime, I needed to figure out the rules, and how best to exploit them. Farming, grinding, doing simple quests—there had to be plenty of ways to level up fast.

  I could do that stuff, maybe even do it better than some of these s
ix-foot meatbags. I had quite a good feeling about the future.

  “Have some faith in yourselves,” said Grayson, still smiling. “ Looking at all of you young, healthy boys and girls, I’m confident at least one in three of you will make it.”

  Which meant he expected two-thirds of us to die. If this wasn’t a game… The good feeling went away.

  8. Dress to Impress

  “Any questions?”

  For the next few minutes, Grayson fielded a barrage of different questions.

  “Is there a way for us to go home.”

  “Not right now. But that’s not to say there’s isn’t a way that hasn’t been found yet. You may be the one who discovers it.”

  “You said there were others before us. Where are they? Can we talk to them?”

  “They’ve all moved on, mostly to one of the big cities. If you meet one of them, I’m sure they’ll be happy to talk to you.”

  “Is this a game?”

  “No. I assure you this is not a game.”

  “Can we die?”

  “Yes.”

  “If we die, can we come back to life.”

  Grayson pulled a face. “Well, there are healers who can treat severe injuries, but once you’re dead, you’re dead, as far as I know.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t a game?”

  “I’m very sure.”

  “Does magic exist here?”

  “Yes.” This sent a buzz around the room as people got excited. “But it’s very rare, and people who can actually put it to good use are even rarer. Most blow off their own hands the first time they try it.”

  “What about dragons? Do they exist?”

  “I’ve never seen one myself, but there are those who claim to have encountered them.”

  “This is definitely a game, isn’t it?”

  Grayson put his hand on his hips and looked directly at me. “For the last time, this isn’t a game. Please stop asking that.”

  After that, most of the questions got the same sort of answers. I don’t know. You’ll have to figure that out for yourself. I’m not sure. Until they petered out and we sat there staring at him.

  “Is that it?” said Gayson. “All right, then. Next thing we need to do is get you some clothes. You can’t walk around looking like that!”

  Grayson bent down and dragged out the boxes next to the desk. There were four of them and they were each overflowing with shirts and trousers.

  “These aren’t particularly stylish, but they will do until you can buy something more to your liking. Take whatever fits, it’s all free.”

  People started walking over to have a rummage. I noticed another couple of boxes by the wall which had footwear in them. While a crowd formed around the clothes, I made for the shoes. The walk to town had been a painful one and finding a pair of shoe that fit seemed much more important than a matching top and bottom ensemble.

  Maurice peered over my shoulder as I tried to find something that looked sturdy. They were all old and used, mostly sandals and cloth slippers, but I dug out a pair of strappy boots that covered my foot and ankle. Not the greatest fit, but they didn’t fall off. Maurice grabbed sandals with one clasp broken.

  By the time we got to have a look in the clothing boxes, the only things left looked more like rags. The others had put on their new gear, and none of it looked ready for the catwalk. The material was coarse and everything leaned towards baggy.

  The shirt I decided on was more a sack with holes for head and ams. It had a slash across the stomach with red-brown stains around it. The bottom of the trousers hung around my calves and the waist was many sizes too big. But the material was thick and some string would sort out the waist. Until then I’d have to hold it up with my hands. Looking at the stuff in the boxes, I got the impression these had all come from our predecessors who had met with sticky ends. Pretty much everyone’s clothes had rips and stains. I tried not to think about it.

  Maurice’s Batman onesie was better than anything in the boxes so he didn’t bother taking anything, but while I was trying on stuff, he went over to speak to Grayson. After a brief discussion, Grayson opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a handful of spectacles which Maurice tried until a pair seemed to work for him. They had thick black frames and some kind of wrapping on the middle bit where they were obviously broken.

  Less than a day and Maurice had already levelled up from nerd to dork. If there was an uber-geek achievement to be won, he was well on his way to claiming it.

  9. Party Up

  We retook our seats, looking like refugees from an Oxfam shop. Captain Grayson once again sat on the edge of his desk.

  “Any more questions?”

  No one said anything. Probably not because they didn’t have questions, more likely because people had had enough. Nothing made sense and the only question that really mattered had already been answered with a big, fat no. We couldn’t go home.

  “My men are preparing food for you, but we weren’t expecting so many, so it will take a little time. What I suggest you do is get into small groups of three or four and go have a look around town. It’s a small place that was originally built to help visitors like yourself. The people are quite friendly, but bear in mind they all carry weapons, so be polite and don’t start trouble. You might get a better idea of what to expect once you’ve seen a bit more. We’ll ring a bell when the food’s ready.”

  People slowly got up and started forming groups. I remained seated and moved my hands in front of me playing imaginary whack-a-mole, trying to feel for any kind of interaction. I couldn’t shake the idea this had to be a game. If I could just access the status screen, maybe I’d be able to work out what I needed to do to level up.

  “What are you doing?” asked Maurice.

  “I’m looking for a way to access the user interface.” I continued to pat the air.

  “You really think this is a game?”

  “Yep.” I had no doubt, even though I had yet to find any actual evidence.

  Maurice looked around, still squinting even though he had glasses now. “I don’t think the technology exists for this level of immersion.”

  “I didn’t think ogres existed either,” I said.

  “Fair point. Looks like everyone’s leaving.”

  Having no luck with clicking on anything, I decided I should probably go have a look around town. The only people left in the room were a red-faced guy who had his arms folded and was staring at the ceiling for some reason, and two girls sat next to each other. One girl was a little plump with a round face that made her look fatter than she was. The other was very skinny and almost good-looking if it wasn’t for her huge nose.

  Quick sidebar: It may seem like I’m a sexist twat who only sees women in terms of their looks, but I don’t think I treat women like they’re inferior. I notice what I notice. I’m not going to pretend I’m some New Age moron who sees all life as part of the same beautiful tapestry. The first thing I noticed about Maurice was that he’s black—and that’s despite him wearing a Batman onesie. Does that make me racist? I think it means my eyes work. Feel free to judge me how you want.

  I headed for the door and the girl with the big nose stood up.

  “Don’t you think we should form a group?” She said it almost as an accusation.

  Damn, I’d almost made it to the door. I stopped and turned around. “Er, are you talking to me?”

  “I get it, all right?” She seemed quite angry. At me in particular. “We’re the ones nobody wants to hang out with. The losers. More reason we should stick together. Or are you just another bastard willing to leave two girls alone in this FUCKING SHITHOLE!”

  The blast at the end had me leaning back. I don’t really know how to handle angry girls, which is strange because my mother was like that for most of my childhood, so you’d think I’d be used to it.

  Then again, maybe that’s why it unnerves me so much. If you get angry back they turn up the volume, no bass, all treble. If you try to speak gently, th
ey get mad because you aren’t taking them seriously. Back in the 1950s you could slap a screaming woman and she’d thank you for calming her down. Try that these days and you might get a slightly different response.

  “I don’t know what you’re so pissed at me for, I don’t think you’re a loser. If I don’t seem sociable it’s just because I find it difficult to talk to people, especially in big groups. I’m going to look around. If you want to come, nobody’s stopping you.”

  I walked out the door with Maurice and the two girls falling in behind. Ceiling-staring guy got up and shuffled after us. Was this really my party? I had to ditch these losers as soon as possible.