Lighting up a cigarette from a half-crushed packet he’d found back at the gas station, John opened the bulkhead door leading to the bridge.

  The apocalypse is a great time indulge old habits, he thought, exhaling through his nose. If Anne could see me now.

  “Boss, are you smoking?” Truffle exclaimed in an appalled voice. “Put that disgusting thing out right now. The Mistress would throw a fit if she could see you, and after all the work she put into helping you quit. It’s a filthy habit you reprobate.”

  “I didn’t realise you were still here,” John sighed, taking a long drag before docking it out on the wall and returning it, face up, into the packet. He’d starting smoking during basic, but he’d quit not long after he and Anne got married and moved into their apartment. His wife hated the smell of cigarettes and she was like a bloodhound. She could always tell when he sneaked one. Eventually he’d just quit all together.

  The Captain laid back in one of the leather chairs with his feet up on the map table and his arms hanging loosely at his side. His head was tipped back with the brim of a black, leather Stetson pulled down over his eyes.

  He didn’t have that earlier.

  “Find what you were looking for?” He said without looking up.

  Not really,” John sighed, leaning against the wall with a single leg bent up against it. “I like your hat.”

  “Take it,” he said, tossing it like a frisbee towards John who caught it lazily. “It’s more your style anyway. I’ve always preferred a good old fashioned ball cap.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep an eye out for one.”

  New Item Acquired:

  Gunslinger’s Stetson (uncommon):

  This timeless piece of headgear harkens back to a bygone era where men were men and even the deadliest plague could be cured by a bottle of Tennessee’s finest. Though it won’t do much for your accuracy, this stunning item will make you quite the intimidating presence in the local bar scene.

  Now available in black, brown, or stallion white!

  “Are you sure I can have this?” John asked after examining the system’s sales pitch. “It’s an uncommon item.”

  “Sure, I don’t need an item to increase my intimidation. I’ve got these for that,” he lifted his arms, flexing a swan pose and laughed.

  John smiled at him, tipping his hat in The Captain’s direction. “Much obliged.”

  The two laughed even harder and The Captain nearly fell out of his chair, swinging his arms in circles to persuade the upended legs to fall forwards instead of backwards.

  “How was your talk with my prisoner?” He asked, a sudden chill wafting through the bridge.

  “She asked me to kill you,” John replied, keeping his eyes glued to the man’s hands.

  “Well, John Doe, I’m right here,” he said, leaning back and raising them in mock surrender. “Take your best shot.”

  “You can’t kill him Boss!” Truffle squealed, looking up at John with wide eyes. “He’s my friend now, we’ve been talking for hours. I told him about Mistress Anne, he’s going to help us. Besides, I can’t sail a ship, can you sail a ship? Because if not then we’ll get stuck on the ocean and-”

  “Relax Truffle,” John interrupted with a laugh and a raised palm, “I have no intention of killing him. What kinda guy do you take me for? I would like to ask a favour though.”

  “Another one?” The Captain replied with a raised eyebrow. “Your last favour kept me up all damned night talking to a pig like a madman. I’m starting to think you only want me for my favours. Where’s the love?”

  “I need to borrow your machete. That prisoner of yours said she’d only answer my questions if I proved that I’d killed you. She asked me to bring her your head at first, but I managed to persuade her to accept something else as proof instead.”

  “Really?” He asked, leaning forward and clenching his fists together, elbows rested on the table. “I’ve been trying to get her to talk for days.”

  “What about?”

  “Oh you know, the usual. Where are you from? What cards do you have? Why did you fuck me and then try to kill me in my sleep?”

  “Mistress Anne used to call it making love,” Truffle said, looking between the two men. “Fucking is only for sluts and skanks. A proper lady makes love. That’s what she said.”

  “Good job I’m not a proper lady then,” The Captain retorted with a half grin.

  “I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t see the appeal,” John said. “But as far as end of the world architypes go, her’s is pretty obvious. I wouldn’t be surprised if her gamertag was Black Widow or Praying Mantis, or something.”

  “Yeah well, there’s not all that many fish in the sea these days and being thrown into a death game can be quite the aphrodisiac,” unsheathing his machete, he tossed it carefully over the table to John, who caught it by the scratched, black handle. “I’ll be needing that back.”

  “It’s not a card power?” John hadn’t believed him when he’d denied it earlier. After his fight with Baz he was sceptical when anyone spoke of their own cards. He’d learnt his lesson that day and he didn’t plan on getting tricked the same way twice.

  “Nope, I told you that already. It’s just a regular old machete. I found it in this very room on my first day in this damned game. To be honest, I barely even use it anymore. It’s more of a good luck charm than anything, and it comes in handy when I need to lay down the law with the folks on board.”

  “I guess I’ll be off then,” John replied, tipping his hat once more. “Talk about a fetch quest.”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  ***

  The machete clattered to the ground, skidding across the metal floor and banging lightly against the jailcell bars.

  “It’s done,” John said, his outstretched hand lingering just a little bit longer than was usually appropriate for a throw.

  “My, my,” the woman said, gazing leisurely at the discarded weapon. “Aren’t you the man of action.”

  “Talk. I’ve held up my end of the bargain, now it’s your turn.”

  “Yes, yes,” she sighed, flippantly waving a hand to the side. “I see that patience isn’t a virtue you possess. Well, go on then, ask your questions. And could you quit shining that light in my face, it’s doing nothing for my complexion.”

  “Who are you?” He asked, lowering the flashlight to the space just in front of her. In the pitch-black room it was still enough to light up most of the cell.

  “My player name is Selina Kyle.”

  “That’s a little on the nose isn’t it?”

  “Well Harleen Quinzel and Pamela Isley were already taken when I got through the gate,” she shrugged. “But I guess the third time was the charm, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Do I even need to ask why you’re in here?” John sighed. Of course, he knew what had happened between Selina and The Captain, but he didn’t want her to know that.

  “I used my feminine wiles to seduce that awful Captain, though it didn’t take much. But he woke up before I could finish the job, and now I’m in here.”

  Choosing a name like that from the off would suggest that she’d planned to kill like this from the start, John pondered thoughtfully. What kind of psychopath does that? I mean, I get survival of the fittest, but we chose our names before we even knew the rules.

  “Why did you try to kill him?” John asked after a moment’s pause. “You could have just joined him if you wanted protection.”

  “Protection?” She laughed shrilly, “I wanted his cards.”

  “What’s so special about his cards?”

  “You mean you killed him and you didn’t even take them? Amateur,” she spat. “They didn’t take mine when they locked me up in here either, so I’m guessing that it’s not common knowledge that you can steal cards. Take this little tidbit as a bonus for a job well done cowboy. Until a person acquires all four cards, you can reach into their chest and extract them. I’ve heard it’s quite painful though.”

  Bingo! John thought, so she does still have her cards. Though it seems that she’s forgotten that I already threatened to take hers in our last little chat. Either that or she wants me to think that she’s forgotten.

  “As for why I wanted his cards in particular,” she continued. “It’s simply because they synergise well with mine.” John raised an eyebrow and she shot back a scathing look of incredulity. “I’m not gonna play my entire hand, you still haven’t even let me out of here yet.”

  “Tell me what your card does and I’ll tell you where I stashed the body,” John shot back calmly.

  She smiled, black lip gloss shimmering in the torchlight. Looking up at him with large, round eyes, she blinked a few times, batting her eyelashes.

  “I’m starting to like you cowboy, have you thought any more on our little team up?”

  “I’m not opposed to it per say,” John lied, drawing on his new acting skill. “But what’s in it for me. You’re clearly a capable woman, but your method of killing doesn’t exactly match up with my own. Bullets and bedroom eyes don’t make for good bedfellows.”

  “Bonnie and Clyde made it work,” she shrugged, “think about it.”

  John nodded, thoughtfully crossing his arms and fiddling with the rim of his hat. “Perhaps if I knew a little more about you I’d be able to make more of an informed decision.”

  “I usually let my body do the talking when it comes to intimacy,” she said, looking at him through her eyelids.

  “I’m married,” he replied, holding up his left hand, his wedding ring glinting in the torchlight.

  “So am I, but in light of recent events I don’t think wedding vows hold much weight anymore.”

  “Then we’ll have to agree to disagree. I meant it when I took my vows.”

  “Ooh, how righteous you are,” she said playfully. “Well alright then, fine. I’ll tell you about my card, but only if you tell me about yours first.”

  “There’s not much to tell, as you’ve already seen, it lets me summon a single revolver into my hand at will. It has unlimited ammo, and so far it’s never had a blockage. That’s it.”

  “Must be a common weapon card,” she sighed, immediately looking disinterested. “Well, fair is fair I suppose. My card is called Sweaty Aphrodisiac, it does what it says on the tin. My sweat takes on the scent of whatever smell is most alluring to whomever I’m talking to. It’s a psychosomatic card, I doubt it’d be useful to you.”

  You can say that again.

  “So what? If I don’t keep my distance I’ll be overcome with lust?” He said sceptically.

  “Pretty much,” she replied, “though so far it’s only seemed to work on people who don’t see me as a threat.”

  “So you dress like that to get a guy to lower his guard so your card will make him do your bidding? I’ve got to admit that’s pretty clever.”

  “Or a girl, I’m not overly picky these days. But no, I dress like this because the apocalypse is no reason to let one’s dress standards slide. If I could die at any moment, I at least want to make a pretty corpse.”

  Truffle would love this girl.

  “What does your other card do?” He asked slyly.

  “What makes you think I have another card?”

  “You said The Captain’s cards synergised with your own. That sweaty aphrodisiac card doesn’t sound like it’d go very well with whatever he has.”

  “You don’t know what cards he has,” she smiled slyly, twiddling her hair between her fingers as she slowly looked John up and down. “But alright, I’ll tell you. My other card is called vampire’s kiss.” She continued to explain how it worked and John nodded along.

  As soon as she had finished he would take them both from her. The second card was quite good, but he didn’t want to use it if he didn’t have to. It wouldn’t work too well with his own cards. Honestly, he still wasn’t sure that it really did synergise with The Captain’s cards. John didn’t know what the man had under the hood, but he doubted it was anything like that.

  I guess I’d better take her cards and be done with it. Maybe I can trade it at the kiosk for something better.

  Taking another step forward, John pulled his gun out of his inventory and aimed it at the jailcell lock.

  “You know if you do that, the whole ship will hear right?” Selina said quickly, standing up and dashing towards him. “Do you really wanna fight your way out of here? There’s nowhere to go, we’re at sea.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” John said, pulling the trigger.

  A bullet flew from the barrel, snapping the rudimentary padlock which clattered to the ground. The sound of the shot was amplified by the fact that they were in a metal box and John’s ears rang violently. One of these days he was going to have to invest in a pair of ear defenders.

  As he reached for the cell door, suddenly the ship lurched violently and he was thrown to the side. The cell door slammed open and, looking up, he realised that he was laying on the wall.

  “What the shit!” He yelled, due to the hearing loss. It appeared the ship had turned entirely on its side. “What the fuck is going on?”

  The bulkhead door crashed open and John looked to see the guard hanging onto the wheel handle as he struggled to pull himself through the doorway.

  “We’re under attack!” He yelled, “we need to get off this ship!”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Selina growled back angrily, her hair was a mess, but she’d wasted no time. Using the bars of her cell as a ladder, she nimbly climbed towards the open cell door.

  “Why’d you let her out?” The guard asked, trying to grab at his crossbow as he struggled to hold onto the bulkhead door.

  “We’ll discuss that later,” John shouted, already attempting to scale the metal wall and reach the bulkhead. “Right now we need to get topside.”

  “Uh, sure,” the guard said hesitantly. “Come with me.”

  Selina leaped elegantly from the bars to the bulkhead whilst John climbed awkwardly up the side of the slippery metal wall. Thankfully it wasn’t much of a jump to reach the bulkhead and he pulled himself up.

  Looking over the other side, he saw that the cargo bay was a complete mess, and that it was letting in water at an alarming rate.

  Shipping containers were strewn all over the place and what little light had been in the room was all but gone thanks to the torrents of water which rushed in from the right-hand side, which was now below them.

  “How are we going to get out of here?” The guard asked, still clinging to the door handle. “All the stairs are on the left, which is to say, they’re on the roof now.”

  “Boss! Grab on!”

  Looking upwards, John saw light cascading down from an open door on the roof; connected to a now horizontal metal stairway.

  An obscenely long rope dropped down into the water a few meters across from them and John looked once again to see Agnes with a pulley attached to her wheelchair.

  “That thing’s like a Swiss army knife,” he muttered.

  “I’ve got you, deary. Don’t you worry,” she called down cheerfully.

  “You heard the lady,” he shouted to the guard and Selina. “We’ve gotta jump for it.”