Mistrunner - Chapter 28 - Another Test

The term “survival of the fittest” is often misinterpreted. It doesn’t mean that the strongest will inevitably emerge victorious. Rather, it favors the cunning. The adaptable. The intuitive. That is the spirit which humanity must embody if we wish to survive what’s coming.

Jeremiah Braddock III

I looked in the mirror, hating the reflection staring back at me. Reaching up, I fingered the thick, messy braids. As much as I loathed dealing with my hair, there was a part of me that wanted to start plucking the braids out and letting my it poof as much as it wanted to poof. Of course, that wasn’t possible. Not with my second test looming over me.

The idea was pretty simple. I was supposed to pose as a refugee from another town and get “rescued” by the Bayou Boys. Hopefully, they would take me to their village in Bayou La Batre, where I would use my access to acquire intelligence as to their motives, movements, and defenses. When that was done, I would slip out of the town and return overland to Mobile. The whole thing was expected to take a couple of weeks, at most. And then, I’d be back to training.

To sell my status as a refugee, my hair had been arranged in dreadlocks, and I’d donned a ripped and dirty tee-shirt. My jeans were similarly distressed, and my cheap sneakers were falling apart. In short – I looked like a young woman who’d lived her life mired in poverty. And when my uncle dropped me off in the middle of nowhere, that impression would be supported by the dirt and grime that came with any length of time in the humid wilderness of the area.

I also had [Spycraft] on my side. Using a combination of Disguise and Deception, I would bolster the ruse by masking my tier as well as my true nature. I wasn’t sure what they would see when they looked at me, but when I’d showed Jo, she’d said that it was a very competent disguise. That was good enough for me.

I admit that I was a little nervous about the whole affair. Running around in Mobile and tailing oblivious gang members was one thing, but actively fooling the Bayou Boys? That was something else entirely. I knew I wouldn’t be in any real danger – not unless there were multiple people around who could rival Lafontaine in power, which I doubted – but I couldn’t stop a chill from going up my spine when I considered what would happen if I was wrong. The world was littered with pretty young men and women who’d turned down the wrong alley or caught the eye of someone more powerful than them.

I shook my head, saying, “You can escape if it comes to that.”

Objectively, I knew it was true. My skills had grown by leaps and bounds. To reassure myself, I opened my status screen:

Name: Mirabelle Lisa Braddock

Class: N/A (Requirements Not Met)

Level: 4 (15%)

Constitution: 17/31

Mind: 19/31

Mist: 12/31

Skills: 7/7

· Cybernetic Interface (Tier 2) – 64%

o Bonuses Applied: None

o Slots Unlocked: 3

· Firearms (Tier 2) – 88%

o Bonuses Applied:

§ 10% Firearm Damage

§ 4% Reload Speed

§ 6% Accuracy

· Close-Quarters Combat (Tier 2) – 62%

o Bonuses Applied:

§ 15% Melee Damage

§ 10% Melee Speed

§ 7% Melee Accuracy

· Stealth Operations (Tier 1) – 11%

o Abilities:

§ Camouflage (F)

· Combat Utility (Tier 3) – 16%

o Abilities:

§ Triage (E)

§ Basic Explosives Handling (E)

§ Combat Focus (D)

§ Pain Tolerance (E)

§ Resistance (E)

§ Foraging (E)

§ Improvisation (E)

§ Regeneration (E)

· Mistwalking (Tier 1) – 1%

o Bonuses Applied:

§ 5% Misthack Speed

§ 5% Mistwalk Speed

o Abilities:

§ Mistwalk (F)

§ Misthack (E)

§ Mistwall (F)

· Spycraft (Tier 1) – 42%

o Abilities

§ Disguise (F)

§ Deception (E)

I had improved basically every facet of my toolkit. For my attributes, I’d gained three points in constitution, two points in mind, and three points in Mist – all huge gains that had noticeable effects on my combat ability. Not only was I stronger, faster, and more durable, but I also processed information much more quickly, and my memory had begun to approach eidetic levels. In addition, because of my increased Mist attribute, my abilities flowed much more smoothly, activating far more quickly than before. Sadly, my mind attribute hadn’t made me any wiser or given the ability to think more critically. It only improved the mechanisms of memory and processing speed, rather than judgement and adaptability of thought. Still, I was satisfied with the results.

In terms of skills, I had gained fifty percent in [Cybernetic Interface], which brought me almost two-thirds of the way to the next tier. [Firearms] had seen an even bigger improvement, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I hit tier three in the skill and gained further benefits. I was a little disappointed that [Close-Quarters Combat] hadn’t improved more than the fifty percent that it had, but I still couldn’t argue with the results. It, too, wouldn’t take long before it hit the next tier. [Stealth Operations] and [Spycraft] had seen similar gains, with the associated abilities either climbing a grade in strength or running right up to the edge of doing so. [Mistwalking] still lagged behind everything else, but I had high hopes that I’d soon hit a period of rapid advancement. The clear winner, though, was [Combat Utility], which had continued to prove itself my most valuable skill, even reaching the third tier. All of the associated abilities had hit E-Grade, with Combat Focus even gaining an additional grade.

To say I was happy with my progress would have been an understatement. I drilled down into the sub-menus and opened my skill trees, one by one. First up was the [Firearms] tree:

I was very excited about my progress, with my skill with rifles having progressed almost to the point of reaching the third tier. When that happened, I’d gain an ability called Empowered Shot. I had no idea what it would do, and my uncle still refused to reveal any details, but I had a suspicion that it would be a game changer, especially when I used my Kicker in its sniper configuration. Memories of Jeremiah blowing crater-sized holes in that giant, arm-cannon wielding bandit filled my mind, and I couldn’t help but grin at the idea of having that kind of firepower at my disposal.

The other [Firearms] branches hadn’t progressed quite as well, but they were getting better. I suspected that, because I tended to favor my rifle, they would never quite catch up, but I was okay with that. So long as I continued to make progress, I would still grow gradually more powerful.

I moved onto my [Close-Quarters Combat] tree:

I couldn’t really argue with my progress with this skill, either. Not only had I increased the modifiers applied to my overall melee damage, but because I’d gained a tier with bladed weapons, I’d gained quite a bit of extra speed when wielding my daggers or sword as well. They weren’t my preferred weapons, but I felt confident in their use. The one branch that really excited me was the movement category; I was close to Tier-3, which meant that I wasn’t far from getting an ability called Engage. I wasn’t sure what it did – again, my uncle was tight-lipped, saying that I would find out when I gained access to it – but I couldn’t imagine it being anything but extremely helpful.

Finally, I turned to the enigmatic [Mistwalker] tree:

Just looking at the tree, I could practically feel the power buried within it. My [Mistwalker] instructor had informed me that the tiers were more like suggestions. I could push past them, but the further above my skill the system I was trying to infiltrate was, the more difficult it would be. Dangerous, too. At higher grades, Mistwalking meant opposing extremely powerful defenses that could fry Mistwalker’s mind at the first hint of weakness. The tier progresses protected against that. If I bit off more than I could chew, though, I could end up braindead.

Once I was finished inspecting my growth, I let out a sigh and headed downstairs to meet with Jeremiah, who would be responsible for getting me into position. When I got down into the common room, he looked up and said, “You ready?”

I nodded. “As ready as I’m going to get, I guess,” I said. “It would be a lot easier if you just wanted me to go down there and kill them all.”

He gave a soft chuckle, but I was only half-kidding. Given what I’d seen on the farm, I was more than prepared to do what needed to be done to the Bayou Boys. They hadn’t shown any mercy to the farmers, so I didn’t think they deserved any in return. In fact, the entire mission seemed like the most roundabout way to accomplish the goal. As my uncle led me outside and to a jeep, I said as much.

He responded, “You only think that because you have no idea what you’re talking about. Let’s say you do what you want to do and head in, gun’s blazing. Never mind that it’s extremely dangerous, but what are you going to do with the civilians? Bayou La Batre isn’t home to just the Bayou Boys, you know. It’s a normal town with normal people.”

“Uh…”

“And then, what are you going to do with the ones who escape? Even if you can start picking them off, there will come a point when they scatter,” he said. “You going to chase them all down?”

“I…uh…I didn’t think about that…”

He started the vehicle and, as he pulled away from the inn, went on, “Then there are the automatic defenses to worry about. They have combat drones, you know. And I’m pretty sure your [Mistwalker] skill isn’t good enough to take them down all at once. Am I wrong?”

I shook my head.

“And finally,” Jeremiah said as we traversed the town. “Let’s not forget that they’re likely to have a few other operators on the level of Lafontaine. That’s not even considering Savannah, the matriarch of the clan. I’d be surprised if you could scratch the woman, much less kill her.”

Finally, we approached the gate, and I said, “Oh. I guess…uh…I guess doing it this way makes sense.”

I didn’t like admitting that I was wrong, but I couldn’t deny that I hadn’t thought of all the details. Perhaps that was why I wasn’t the one in charge.

After that brief discussion, we remained silent as he took us in a roughly south-by-southeast track. As we went, the area became progressively swampier until. Mostly, we stuck to a series of incredibly wide avenues that my uncle referred to as highways, but there were times when we were forced to go offroad. On a couple of those occasions, I was convinced that the vehicle would get bogged down, but the durable jeep managed to pull through. Finally, we reached a crumbling complex comprised of concrete and metal buildings. Abutting the water way that Jeremiah referred to as a shipping channel were a series of tall but slim silos, three of which had given in to the effects of time. The rest of the buildings, like everywhere else, were slowly being reabsorbed by nature, and they’d been overtaken by the everpresent kudzu vines as well as a wide variety of other flora.

“Alright, this is where you get out,” Jeremiah said. He pointed to the south. “Bayou La Batre is that way. You should run into some of their scavengers along the way, but if you don’t, just…well, you know what to do. Get in, gather information, and then escape. Report back what you find.”

“Simple, right?” I said, trying to convey confidence with a cocky grin. It didn’t go much deeper than my expression, though. Instead, as we had made our way further and further south, I’d grown increasingly anxious. Now, it was almost to the point of causing my hands to shake.

“You’ll be okay,” he said. “I promise. You’re ready for this.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“And if you get in trouble, remember that I’m only a call away,” he said.

I felt myself blush. The incident at the farm could have been avoided entirely if I’d remembered the communication capabilities of my KOI. I could have called in backup, and we would have made easy work of the raiders. Instead, I’d gone in half-cocked without considering the options in front of me. The results spoke for themselves. While I’d survived, things could have easily turned out very differently.

And if I’d called Jeremiah the moment I’d gotten to that church, they could have saved those farmers. I tried my best not to think about that, save to reaffirm that I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.

After making sure that I had everything I needed in my Arsenal Implant, I got out of the jeep and watched my uncle drive away. Suddenly, I felt alone. Again. Shaking my head, I resolved not to wallow in that fact. If I was going to move forward, I would need to learn to function without a safety net. Otherwise, I would always be dependent on Jeremiah to bail me out. So, with that in mind, I set off in the appropriate direction.

The compound – which seemed as if it had once been some sort of manufacturing plant – was desolate, but it wasn’t completely uninhabited. Not only were there plenty of rodents the size of cats running around, but there were also more fearsome predators. Using Camouflage, I managed to avoid them, and the only close call I had was when I crossed paths with a mutated bobcat. It was at least three feet tall at the shoulder, bulging with muscles, and had metal tusks protruding from its mouth. I couldn’t ignore the distinct gleam of metal on its paws, either.

I certainly didn’t want to tangle with that creature, and so, I hunkered down and prayed that it wouldn’t detect my presence. Whether I was lucky or the thing was simply disinterested, it soon passed me by. Still, I waited, nestled between a pair of bushes, for almost twenty minutes before I thought it was safe to move on.

Like that, I traversed the wilderness. Despite my high constitution, it was slow going; the area was basically a jungle, and so, it was difficult to find a path through the thick brush. Still, I pushed ever southward until, at last, I heard something promising.

Voices. Ahead and slightly to the west.

I stalked toward the voices until I came to a long, narrow clearing where I saw a trio of figures kneeling next to a stand of huge mushrooms. They all wore homespun clothing – durable but of low quality – and wide-brimmed hats. As they worked to harvest the fungi, one of them – a woman with a scratchy voice – said, “We better hurry. It’ll be dark soon.”

One of the others – this one with the voice of a young man – responded, “Can’t afford to leave none of this behind, ma.”

“The boy’s right,” said the final member of the gathering team. He was much taller than the other two, with broader shoulders. “We ain’t met our quota in three weeks. This’ll put us back in the green.”

The woman spat, then said, “Quotas! We never used to have no goddamn quotas. Not ‘til them Bayou Boys took over. Goddamn Savannah and her goddamn drones!”

I didn’t think I’d get a better chance to act, so, with a mental flick, I activated both Disguise and Deception before stumbling into the meadow. As soon as I did, the man whirled around, an ancient-looking shotgun in his hands.

“Who’s there?!” he demanded.

“I…I don’t…my village was…attacked by monsters, and…I just barely got away…p-please help me,” I stammered, reaching out as if he could take my hand from twenty feet away. I sniffed loudly. “Please…my whole family…is…is gone…”

I knew I was laying it on a little thick, but I hoped that my abilities would bridge the gap between my poor acting and something approaching realism. It seemed to work, because the man, who looked middle-aged and had a thick beard, softened his expression. The woman wasn’t so convinced, and I belatedly noted that she had a wicked-looking axe in her hands. The young man, though, was staring at me with wide eyes. They were clearly a family, given the resemblance between the three.

“Who are you? What’s your name? And what village did you come from?” the woman demanded, stepping forward. Her axe seemed ready to cleave me in two.

I swallowed hard and used the backstory my uncle had given me. “Up north a little,” I said. “Place called Wilmer. Or it used to be…nobody’s left now…”

“Sadie…”

The woman narrowed her eyes, considering my story. I knew that the town had actually existed, and what’s more, it had been decimated by a pack of mutated wolves. Some of the survivors had made it to Mobile. That, coupled with my appearance, would be enough to dissuade any disbelief. I hoped.

Finally, Sadie’s expression softened, and she said, “Alright. We’ll take you to town, but after that, you’re on your own. We can’t afford another mouth to feed.”

With her acceptance of my story came the true beginning of my mission. I could only hope that it would turn out better than my last.