Chapter 8: The Residents are Evil
Maxwell slowly regains consciousness, his mind still shrouded in fog as he tries to understand what has happened. The distant sound of waves crashing on the beach echoes in his ears, mixed with the icy wind that cuts through his clothes. His body is tense and trembling, not from fear, but from the intense cold that wraps around him like an icy blanket.
Opening his eyes, Maxwell is greeted by a desolate landscape: the ocean's vastness stretches as far as the eye can see, under a grey sky that promises more storms. The dark sandy beach stretches out in front of him, punctuated by familiar houses built in the shallows.
"What the hell, where I am? *cough* *cough*" With an effort, Maxwell stands up, his legs still shaky and weak. Maxwell feels a bitter taste in his mouth as he tries to get his bearings, followed by a violent cough that makes him spit out salt water. His lips are dry and cut, and his tongue runs over his parched lips in search of relief.
"Wasn't I in a sewer? So this water... I hope the sea has diluted it."
Maxwell picks up his canteen of water and soothes his chapped lips. He turns round to take a look at the rest of the beach and stops abruptly, using your willpower not to let your canteen fall out of your hands. A shiver runs down his spine, not just from the penetrating cold, but from the familiar sight of trees.
"Trees? Pandora doesn't have a single tree, unless..."
[Special quest detected.]
"Please, no... just no."
[Generating quest…]
"For heaven's sake, don't play with my heart!"
[Quest:
( ) Escape from Zombie Island
( ) Kill Dr.Ned {optional}
( ) Destroy or sell the experiments carried out on the island to Atlas or Jakobs {optional}
( ) Don't get bitten for your entire stay on the island {optional}
Reward: $100 + ??? + ??? + ???]
"Ha... haha... hahahahaha! *cough* *COUGH*" Maxwell's laughter is interrupted by a fit of coughing, each hack wracking his body as if he's trying to expel the fear that has lodged itself deep in his chest. "I'm so fucked."
*Groan*
"!!!" Drawing out his p2016 Maxwell pointed to where he had heard the sound, his hands still shaking, diminishing his accuracy.
"YOU! Aren't you dead yet?" Maxwell was surprised to see the zombified Rook a few meters away from him. The zombie seemed to have a problem walking, as it was slowly dragging itself somewhere. Maxwell followed its lead, his eyes widening as he saw the zombie's goal.
"Die already!" Maxwell was about to squeeze the trigger, but stopped when he considered that the noise might attract more zombies, or worse, those werewolf enemies, wereskag?
Grabbing his Data Knife, Maxwell approaches Rook from behind and plunges the knife into his skull, with a twist of the handle he ensures that the man never gets up again. He pushes harder to get the blade out, taking a bit of Rook's brain with him, something disgusting, but these visions have become commonplace since he arrived in Pandora.
What he didn't expect was for a blue screen to appear shortly afterward, bringing him some good news in the ocean of figurative and literal shit he was facing.
[You've met the requirements of a challenge.]
"Hmm, I don't remember looking at that." Maxwell remembered the system commenting on this, but he didn't pay any attention because he could assume that he would need to be stronger to fulfill the challenges.
[Synthetic Nightmare: Kill 50/100/250 Enemies
(X) - Amped Weapons
( ) - ???
( ) - ???]
"I've killed 50 people, uh, but I think I only killed a dozen people in the conquest of Old Haven, so where do these other numbers come from?"
[The system doesn't get the maths wrong, you killed exactly 13 people in Old Haven and 36 zombies in the sewers (you stole a few kills from your mates).]
"I didn't realize you counted the zombies too, since they were already, you know, dead."
[...]
[With the explanations given, do you want to implant the Amped Weapons in your body?]
[(Augments) Amped Weapons: Amped Weapon enhances plasma-charged weapons, increasing their power and effectiveness in combat. Visually, the weapons take on a distinctive golden hue when activated, indicating their amplified power.]
"Wait, is that going to be implanted in my body? I thought it would be like in Titanfall where I just press a little card and my gun goes into steroids."
[This isn't a game, pilot. But yes, there are burn cards if you prefer but you may end up losing them, and the implants stay in your body. Amped Weapons will be installed for free by the system in your dominant hand, do you want to proceed?]
"Of course, just gimme the chrome."
[Alright, just a little prick and you'll be good to go.]
"*Argh*" Maxwell closes his eyes, he screams as the pain begins to spread through his hand.
"...Hmm?" And just as it came, the pain faded quickly, leaving Maxwell embarrassed, fortunately, no one had seen. "All right, now where's my lollipop, Doctor?"
[...]
Maxwell looked closely at his right hand as he removed the glove, revealing a series of metal segments embedded in his palm. The tiny circuits extended like intricate black lines, converging at all the joints of his fingers.
He firmly grasped his P2016, focusing on his hand. A warm sensation began to pulse through his hand once more, but this time without the searing pain. Within seconds, his P2016 gleamed with a golden sheen, small golden sparks occasionally dancing across the pistol's surface.
Knowing that using the knife wouldn't cause noise, Maxwell approached a tree and prepared to strike, the veins in his arms bulging with explosive force.
*Shoooh*
His hand moved so quickly that a sound like wind cutting through the air occurred. The blade hit the wood, but instead of stopping upon hitting the hard surface, it continued to advance.
Maxwell's eyes widened as the tree succumbed to the force of gravity and fell with a thud to the ground.
*BAAM*
Turning his gaze back to his hand, he noticed a bit of smoke emanating, along with some orange lights flashing over the segments. His implant could perform a few more devastating strikes like that before going into cooldown.
"*Guh* *guh*"
Maxwell finally snaps out of his reverie upon hearing a choking sound, startled to remember what he had set out to do after dealing with Rook.
"Bishop!" Maxwell's voice carries urgency as he hurries over to the fallen soldier, his footsteps crunching on the sandy beach. "Hey, hang in there, buddy."
"*Sigh* Sorry, man. I spaced on you." Maxwell scratches his head, unable to resist the system's temptations.
Maxwell quickly checks Bishop's pulse and heartbeat, his brow furrowing in concern as he assesses the soldier's condition. He notices signs of labored breathing and a rattling cough, indicative of fluid in the lungs—a clear indication of near-drowning.
He had the same symptoms when he woke up on the beach, but unlike Bishop, he had his nanites to expel the water from his lungs.
"We need to get you breathing properly," Maxwell mutters to himself, his mind racing for a solution. "If I remember my first aid training correctly..."
He pauses, searching his memory for the appropriate response. Then, realization dawns.
"I need to clear your airway and help you cough up any water." Maxwell declares resigned to his fate. "Time to perform CPR."
"Here… we go." Maxwell removes Bishop's helmet, looking at the pale face, and the wet white hair on the man's forehead. Maxwell forced his brain to see a beautiful woman in front of him, at least the situation would become a little more bearable.
After completing thirty compressions, Maxwell leans back slightly, tilting Bishop's head back to open the airway. Pinching Bishop's nose shut, he takes a deep breath and places his mouth over Bishop's, delivering two rescue breaths, each lasting about one second and causing the chest to rise visibly.
"*Cough* *cough*" Bishop stirs. A ragged cough escapes his lips as he gasps for air, his chest heaving with the effort. Slowly, his eyelids flutter open.
Maxwell helps Bishop to sit down, the man begins to cough more violently, water and some things that Maxwell didn't want to know what they were.
"Max? What a relief," Bishop's hand retreated from the holster at the sight of one of his own, his action purely instinctive, nothing malicious. "Where are we? How long have I been passed out? And our squadron, how are they?
"Take it easy, we're on a zombie-infested island, we've probably been carried here by the ocean waves. I have no idea how many hours have passed since the incident in the sewers. As for our squadron, I haven't yet tried to contact them via ECHO."
"Zombies? Have you ever named these creatures?" Bishop raises an eyebrow, the zombie topic reminding him of a person.
"Max…What happened to Rook, was it real? Did he…"
Maxwell doesn't answer anything, he just turns his face to where Rook's carcass is.
Bishop's cloudy eyes were fixed on Rook, his completely white eyes conveying no emotion, only the desolation of a fallen soldier in combat.
He stands up silently, the cold winds off the beach ruffling his platinum hair. Bishop kneels down and picks up Rook's Dog Tag before taking up his rifle and using it as an improvised shovel to dig a grave for Rook.
*Groan*
"Damn it, you can't even give me a minute to bury my friend." Bishop's words dripped with poison, the normally calm man looked like a wounded beast, his face contorted with anger and pain was something new for Maxwell.
Maxwell raises his hand and makes a silent gesture signaling for him to continue digging, he pulls out his Data Knife in a reverse grip and walks over to the invading zombie.
Maxwell didn't want to get into a CQC with a zombie whose only injury would be his death sentence. The man himself felt uncomfortable attacking, as he felt he would be grabbed and possibly scratched. It didn't help that the zombie had his hands outstretched, while it was clenching his teeth.
He knew he could end the confrontation with a single amplified blow, but he wondered how he would deal with zombies without his implant.
Resolving to take things more calmly, he stepped back, not letting the zombie get too close but close enough for his attacks to reach the zombie's hands. Maxwell clenches his hand and cuts off the zombie's fingers, his knife cutting off one or two fingers with each blow, he does this until he leaves the zombie with no fingers, he could have attacked to rip off the zombie's hand entirely, but he feared having his knife stuck.
The zombie, now defenseless, could only attack Maxwell with its mouth, something the man wouldn't let it do, and with a decisive blow he struck the zombie's eye, putting force into it and causing the knife to sink in. Maxwell ignored the zombie's arms around his body and spun the knife, liquefying the monster's brain, which fell limp to the ground.
[Blade Mastery lv.3>4]
_____
Name: Maxwell Williams
Regeneration: 0
[STR: 31] [END: 39] [DEX: 34] [INT: 25]
Skills: [Trigger Discipline lv.13] [Blade Mastery lv.4]
___
Functions: [Hangar] [Quest Board]
Credits: $26
_____
With a moment to breathe, Maxwell thought about the confrontation he had just had, he was particularly alarmed by the zombie's supernatural strength.
He currently had 31 strength, which summed up to 108kg of strength, and yet he felt suffocated by the strength of a rotting corpse. It was a good idea to cut off his fingers before finishing, but the confrontation lasted too long, if he was fighting a horde he'd be eaten alive when he got tired from the effort.
Maxwell would be investing in suppressors for crowd confrontations, but he would need a safe place first to do the installation. Giving a farewell salute to Rook, Maxwell, and Bishop headed deeper into the island.
Chapter 9: Running... Can They Run?!
In the dense woods, Maxwell and Bishop walked in silence, their footsteps muffled by the dry leaves beneath their feet. The air was damp and laden with the familiar smell of decay. Maxwell was irritated by the occasional thorny plant and the mud on his boots, which only made him want to leave the island immediately.
"Did you manage to call King?" asked Maxwell, his hand swatting away an annoying swarm of mosquitoes.
"No sign so far, maybe we're out of luck and they're still in the sewers, which makes it difficult to contact them." Bishop spoke as he drank water from his canteen, his brow furrowing as he felt the water halfway down.
"And the Old Haven's base? It's not possible that with all the technology Atlas has they can't pick up our distress signal!"
"The signal is reaching the mainland, but no one in Old Haven is responding."
"Fuck! A bunch of incompetents, it seems that the rumor of nepotism at the top wasn't true. They put a bunch of kids in charge of an army, and I fucking hate kids."
"Calm down Max, if our superiors hear this, being expelled will be one of your least problems." Bishop advises his comrade-in-arms but doesn't deny what Maxwell said about Atlas. Although it's the largest corporation of all because it pioneered the hunt for the Vaults, it suffers from a common case of corruption among its ranks.
After their brief conversation, the two returned to their mission of finding shelter. They were already a few hours away from the beach and intended to go deeper into the island hoping to find information and answers. Their steps stopped when they noticed lights some distance away.
"The dirt track actually led us to a settlement. But it was a good idea not to walk along the path, I saw some hordes of those... zombies, as you call them." He pointed to a small complex of small houses, as they were on an elevation it was possible to see what was inside the walls. "I hope we're lucky there. We need a safe place to rest and assess our supplies."
Maxwell's eyes assessed the scene more clearly, his Trigger Discipline now allowing him to see much further. This allowed him to see threats from very far away, which helped him to stay out of the zombies' range of perception.
Bishop looked around, his eyes alert for any movement. "What if the village is also infested?"
"Then we'll have to improvise." Maxwell clenched his fist. "But we can't keep wandering around the island without a foothold. Our food may last a week, but our water won't. We're two grown men, our consumption will force us to drink seawater within two days if we drink our water in small sips."
Maxwell was desperate to find a place that was just like the one in the game. That way he could locate himself and find a way off the island, which could currently only be by water, but without knowing the location of the Arid Badlands continent, he would be doomed to wander aimlessly by sea.
Bishop nods. "Yes, our main concern is the water, but without ammunition, we won't be able to do much either, I'm at best mediocre in hand-to-hand combat. Rook's turret has a munitions manufacturing function, we just need to secure the perimeter and then we can use Rook's heavy equipment."
"Can Scorpion Turrets do that?" Maxwell didn't know much about this equipment. It was Roland's ability in Borderlands 1, but he played more Lilith at the time, so his ignorance of the turret's capabilities was justifiable.
"Yes, they can be modified several times. How much ammunition do you have left?"
"Let me see on my ECHO..." Maxwell quickly checks his ECHO's screen, his brow furrowing when he sees an x4 symbol on the box icon with a pistol print. "I have four boxes of ammunition for my pistol, I used up my rifle ammunition in the sewer."
"No problem, Rook carries plenty of ammunition for emergency situations."
"..."
"Max, why haven't you taken the ammunition from Rook's ECHO yet?" Bishop asks strangely, not understanding Maxwell's lack of action.
"I'm waiting for you to give me Rook's ECHO." Maxwell replies, a bad feeling growing in his core.
"Max... please don't play games with me. You took Rook's ECHO, didn't you?"
"I thought you did when you buried Rook's body."
"..."
"..."
"No fucking way." x2
"What do we do, go back or go down to the settlement?" Bishop asks, his voice carrying a bit of anxiety.
"Negative, we've lost a lot of time just getting here." His nerves had been tested to the limit over the last few hours, and it didn't help to have to listen to the incessant moans and grunts of the zombies being carried by the wind.
"I've seen thirteen targets inside the settlement, if we can close the place down we can have a secure base. But first, let's sort things out as quietly as possible." Punctuating his speech, Maxwell takes a silencer out of his ECHO, he had bought one when Bishop wasn't looking and kept it in his ECHO.
[(Miscellaneous) Vinson Dyn. PCS-3: Partial noise and flash suppression for submachine guns and pistols. Intended for anti-personnel ammunition. $4c]
[Credits: $22]
Inside the helmet, Bishop's eyes went wide.
"Damn it Max, why do you have a fucking silencer inside your ECHO?" Bishop asked incredulously.
"When I joined the Atlas army I wanted to be part of the Lancer Assassin squad, so I train with knives and stealth." Maxwell easily lies through his teeth.
"But the Lancer Assassins only recruit women, Max, what would you do in a place like that?"
"That's the point, Bishop, they only recruit women. Can you imagine working in a place full of hot women?" Maxwell was telling the truth here. He had seen the Lancer Assassins once and finally understood why all the Omega Assassins were identical in the game. Atlas used genetic engineering technology on the recruits, making them look like the first Omega Assassin and have the same fencing and gymnastic skills.
A good choice, considering that they were the most lethal enemies in the first game. They were fast, always avoiding the player's aim and used plasma katanas that tore through shields and flesh with ease.
"Ah!" Bishop exclaimed in bewilderment, not expecting to see such a perverted side to the enigmatic Maxwell. "You know, it's a good point, but let's not lose focus here."
"Here, take it." Finishing installing the silencer, Maxwell placed his P2016 in Bishop's hands, along with the magazines he had.
"How are you going to fight?"
"Knives. I'm not that good with them, but it's a good opportunity to practice my throwing." Maxwell takes his kunai out of his ECHO, he doesn't connect the plasma edges as it would make Bishop suspicious as to how he got such advanced equipment.
"Right, I'll cover you if some of them grab you." Bishop nods with resolution as he cocks his pistol. His jovial demeanor is replaced by a cold, bloodthirsty soldier in seconds.
Maxwell advances first, climbing down from the hill he was standing on, in his hand he carries his trusty Data Knife which is covered in dried blood. He walks crouched among the foliage, cursing quietly at the black and red color scheme Atlas had chosen for his soldiers' uniforms.
Arriving at the settlement, Maxwell climbs over the entrance wall. Finally getting a good look inside the place, his memory associating it with the first town the player visited when he started the DLC.
"Finally some good news, I'll just need to find and connect defense towers to have a secure base." Maxwell then signaled Bishop to come closer, he needed someone to cover his back.
Bishop nods and runs to his location, taking advantage of the momentum he climbs the wall. "Permission to shoot?"
"Not yet, I want to close the gate first." Maxwell punctuates his speech by descending, he tries his best not to make a sound as he lands.
The man then rushes to the iron gates and starts pushing the heavy gates, which took some effort because they were rusty.
*Groan*
The zombies at the entrance turn when they hear the groaning sound from the gate and begin to walk slowly toward Maxwell with their hands outstretched.
Maxwell's heart began to race. He was in a very vulnerable position, and if any zombies grabbed him and Bishop missed his shot, he would be dragged into the horde and eaten alive.
A shiver went up Maxwell's spine just imagining the scene, being in a risky situation Maxwell's body releases a heavy charge of adrenaline, enough to close the gate in the blink of an eye.
Once the gate is locked Maxwell takes a few steps back, his timing couldn't be better, when the zombies arrive and start trying to reach him through the gaps in the gate's iron bars.
"Damn it, I'm going to kill that bastard Ned like it's my main mission." Maxwell mutters between gasping breaths.
"Now let's take care of the internal threat." A sinister smile grows on Maxwell's face. Turning, he signals for Bishop to approach.
Maxwell began a silent slaughter, he always attacked from behind the zombies, even if it meant going around a house or building.
[Blade Mastery lv.4>5]
Everything was going well until he moved on to his next target, a Psycho zombie. Maxwell easily identified him by the mask with the Vault symbol, while all the others were dressed as sawmill workers.
Maxwell didn't care much and just threw his kunai at the zombified Psycho's head, and as expected the zombie fell to the ground. Approaching to retrieve his kunai, Maxwell is startled to see Psycho get up again and start running towards him.
That's right, the fucking zombie started running towards Maxwell like a fucking Olympic runner. The man's pupils dilated and he felt his bladder loosen. His hand unconsciously went to his holster, but there was no gun.
In such a situation, a decision was quickly made in Maxwell's head.
He ran.
He ran at his limit, he used so much force in his legs that every step he took brought up dirt.
"BISHOP HELP!" Maxwell threw away the stealthy approach. Internally he was cursing his stupidity at having forgotten that zombified Pyschos could run.
Bishop, who was standing a few meters away, was shocked by the comical scene of an Atlas soldier being chased by a Psycho with a kunai stuck in his head.
Seeing the two approaching, Bishop raised his P2016 and without hesitation pulled the trigger as the Psycho came into view.
*Tac*
A dry gunshot sound, was followed by the heavy thud of the rotting carcass falling to the ground.
Maxwell's legs gave way, his body was limp after receiving so many adrenaline rushes in a single day.
*Groan*
*Tac* *tac* *tac*
"What a badass, he got up after taking a 10mm to the head?"
"Thanks, Bishop, I ended up panicking. Let me collect my kunai and we can continue." Maxwell ignored the lethargy in his limbs and walked over to Psycho's still body. Pulling out the kunai violently, Maxwell spins the weapon on his index finger a few times.
After the incident with the runner, the following targets were quieter but left Maxwell alert to the variety of enemies he might encounter on the island.
Finding a two-storey house, Maxwell made a temporary base on the second floor and destroyed the stairs, he didn't trust sleeping on the second floor because all the houses in town were made of wood, and Maxwell didn't doubt that the zombies could break into the house with the encouragement of a meal. To get down and up they used ropes made from the clothes of the zombies they had killed. Finally feeling safe, Maxwell built a fire while Bishop prepared two MREs.
Settling down, Maxwell removed his helmet. His appearance was sad, his hair was sweaty and messy, and his eyes had two black bags.
"Hey, Bish- you know what, I think it's about time you told me your name. It's getting weird to call you that."
"Hmm? Sorry, I didn't hear you right."
"Your name. Or did the mothers of the Tango Squad members decide to name their children after board pieces?"
"Oh, my name is Benjamin. I'll be twenty-seven in November."
"Benjamin... that's a nice name. I didn't know Atlas recruited children, did I mention I hate children?"
"Hehehe, I joined when I was twenty. At the time there weren't so many raids and my job was more as a nurse."
"Here, a meal with pasta, meat, vegetables, and chocolate for dessert."
"Chocolate? No kidding! Hand it over!"
After finishing his meal, Maxwell lay down on the mattress he had taken from downstairs.
"Good night Ben, tomorrow we're going to Rook's body and we're going to look around the beach, I think I saw a building there."
"Good night Max."
Weekly Power Status
200+ Power
Ranking 
164 Power
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