He spent several seconds just staring at her before finally blurting, "Berly?"
"My name is Beverly," she said cautiously. "Berly...no one's called me that in years."
"What...what are you doing here?"
"I'm supposed to clean you up," she said, looking at his clothes with obvious disgust. He could hardly blame her; he was still covered in blood and gore from the zombie fights.
"Berly...is it really you?" But he knew that it wasn't, even as he spoke the words. It couldn't be Berly -- not his Berly, anyway; his Berly was in another world. This was her double, her doppelganger, the one whose face he had seen in the newspaper advertisement and subway posters back in Meku City.
Though he knew, intellectually, that she wasn't the Berly he knew, it was still hard to accept, because she looked just like her. She was a lovely woman in her late twenties, with blue eyes and full lips, and her straight blonde hair hung straight down to her shoulders. She even had the same beauty mark on her cheek, just below her left eye. She was wearing a plain green dress, cut just below the knee.
But there was no recognition in her eyes when she looked at him. "My name is Beverly," she repeated. "Can I come in?"
He stepped back, allowing her to enter the room. She noticed he was still staring at her and said, "I guess you recognize me, huh? From TV?"
"Not...exactly," he managed.
"Some people still remember," she went on, as though she hadn't heard. She sounded somewhat bitter. "I was in half a dozen movies before the outbreak, and a couple of TV series, too."
"Hardcore?"
"You saw that one?" She snorted in a way that was so reminiscent of the Berly he knew that he found himself staring at her again. "Not many people did. They only aired two episodes before the outbreak. Stupid show. If not for Hardcore I wouldn't be stuck here like I am. Let's get you out of those clothes."
"Out of..." He didn't really like the idea of undressing in front of her.
"What, are you embarrassed?"
"No," he said, a little too quickly. And to prove her wrong, he stripped, taking off everything but his boxers. She ordered him to take those off, too, but not before giving him a little warning.
"I'm here to clean you up," she told him. "I'm not here for your entertainment. If you touch me, Steckler will kill you."
Though he had reservations about it, he removed his boxers. She took the dirty clothes from him and set them aside, then set the basin of water down beside her, picked up a sponge, and started washing him up. Under other circumstances he might have found this erotic, but Berly was all business, scrubbing him down as though he were nothing more than a used car. And the water was very cold.
She eventually made her way up to his face, and began to treat him a little more gently, dabbing at the blood on his forehead. "You don't seem to have any injuries," she commented. "I expected you to be in pretty bad shape. They told me you'd killed half a dozen zombies in the cage."
"I've gotten pretty good at killing zombies."
"Where are you from?"
"Meku City," he said. That wasn't the truth, but she wasn't likely to believe his story about coming from another world and he didn't want her to think he was a lunatic.
"You're a long way from home."
"Where are you from?"
"Originally? Quincy's Bay. But I moved to Lon Halos when I was a teenager."
Stu had no idea where Quincy's Bay might be, but he supposed it didn't matter. "And you don't...recognize me?"
"Should I?"
He frowned. If this world had its own Berly, he thought it might have had its own Stu as well, but if it did, the two of them had apparently never met. "Never mind. How did you end up out here in the desert?"
It was her turn to frown. "We were out here shooting some scenes for Hardcore when the shit really hit the fan. We couldn't get back to Lon Halos, and after we figured out what had happened there, we decided we didn't want to. So myself, and the crew, and some of the other actors started working together to survive."
"You settled down out here?"
She snorted. "Settled down? There was no settling, believe me. Every day was a nightmare. We were low on food, water, everything, and of course the zombies were always a problem. We lost seven people that first year, and three more the year after that. Eventually we all sort of went our separate ways. I was living in a town called Precipice with some other survivors until last year, when we were capured by Steckler."
"And you've been living here ever since?"
She nodded.
"How...how are they treating you?"
She looked up at him, with those familiar blue eyes. "What do you care?"
"I...I just want to know," he answered lamely.
She continued looking at him, her expression rather curious, before saying, "He has a couple of dozen women in his harem. He doesn't treat me any better or worse than the rest of them."
"His harem?" He remembered having heard something about the Desert King having a harem of women, but he hadn't really put it together until now. "So you...and him..."
"We're his servants," she acknowledged. "And his playthings."
Stu found himself clenching his fists. "I'll kill him," he growled under his breath.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
"I think we're done here," she said, wringing out the sponge into the basin. "I brought you a change of clothes, as you can see, but you'll have to wear your old boots. If you want them cleaned as well--"
He caught her wrist. "I can help you escape."
She shook herself free. "I told you not to touch me."
"Don't you want to leave?"
"Of course I want to leave. You think I'm enjoying this treatment? But there's no getting out of this place. It's like a fortress, and Steckler's men would chase after anyone who did somehow manage to escape. He controls the entire desert."
"He's only a man."
"Not quite."
He blinked. "What do you mean?"
"You'll find out if you try to fight him. There's a reason no one can stand up to him."
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
He set that aside for now. "I'll ask again. Do you want to leave this place? I can help you escape, if you want."
She gave him a long, skeptical look. "You know, I don't think I ever caught your name."
"It's Stuart. But call me Stu."
"Stu," she repeated. "Maybe we have met before. There's something almost...familiar about you."
An ICON message suddenly sprang to life in front of his face:
Quest Available: Looking for Love: BerlyAccept quest? Yes/No
But there was an additional note beneath it:
Warning: "Looking for Love: Luna" currently in progress. Accepting "Looking for Love: Berly" will lead to the automatic failure of this quest.
Another romantic quest? He dismissed it without checking either yes or no, which sort of "minimized" it, leaving it hanging there in his peripheral vision. He would have time to think about it later.
"There's something familiar about you, too," he said.
"Because you've seen me on TV."
"No, that's not it." But he didn't elaborate.
"Can you really help me escape? And the rest of the girls, too?"
"I can try." But this was getting to be a bit much. He was confident in his fighting ability, but rescuing not only Lucky, Luna, Eldon, and Carmine, but Berly and the other enfettered women of the Desert King's harem as well might be a bridge too far.
She deflated somewhat. "You can try," she muttered, the doubt plain in her voice. "I guess that's the best any of us can do, huh?" She picked up the basin and tapped on the door, which slid open. "See you around, Stu."
"See you, Berly."
"Beverly." And with that, she was gone.
It was only after she had left that Stu realized he could have used his Don Juan skill on her, and perhaps compelled her to help him directly, but if it felt wrong using the Don Juan ability on women who were strangers to him, it felt even more wrong using it on someone like Berly. Well, technically this Berly was a stranger to him, too, but she didn't feel like one, and she had been through enough, anyway. He didn't want to think about what she might have been forced to endure.
He also forgot to ask her about Luna. It had sounded like Luna might have been destined for Steckler's harem as well; it was possible the two of them had already crossed paths.
Luna. He had to save her, and as quickly as possible.
A few minutes after Berly left him, the door slid open again, and three armed men escorted him out of the room. "Where are we going?" he asked.
"The boss wants to talk to you," one of the men grumbled.
This one intrigues me, the Desert King had said of him, after seeing him kill the zombies in the cage. But what did he want to talk to him about? He didn't know. This could be an excellent opportunity to take him out, though; if he could kill Steckler, or take him hostage or something, he might be able to bring down his entire kingdom -- such as it was.
Stu was somewhat surprised to find himself contemplating the Desert King's murder. Before coming to this world, he never would have considered such a thing, and he didn't like how easily these kinds of thoughts were coming to him now. He was getting too used to killing. It was bad enough killing zombies, who were, after all, infected people, but using his powers to kill uninfected people, even if they were trying to kill him, and even if they were monstrous tyrants like Eco Steckler -- he didn't like this at all. He still remembered the look the Lab Rat had given him, before he had cut the man's head off. It was something he would never forget.
It was kill or be killed in this world, however, and if he was to have any chance of escaping this place with his friends, and of ending the Desert King's reign of terror, he was going to have to consider killing the man. He steeled himself, as the guards led him through the crashed starship.
The interior of the ship was not particularly interesting to look at -- at least, not this section of it -- but as he walked through its corridors, he began to feel as though some sort of invisible something was watching him, observing him, trying to read this thoughts. He couldn't begin to guess what it was, and it was entirely possible that he was only imagining it, but he found the feeling very hard to ignore. He glanced at the men who were guarding him, to see if they were feeling the same thing, but none of them showed any sign of it.
They led him through a badly damaged corridor which slanted sharply upwards and which, to his surprise, suddenly opened to the outside. He found himself standing in large, spacious area that might have been a cargo bay of some kind, but the ceiling was missing; it must have been torn off in the crash. The Desert King had converted this damaged portion of the ship into a huge, cantilevered balcony, a sort of eyrie, which offered an excellent view of the surrounding desert. There were tables and chairs set up all over, along with various luxuries -- couches, televisions, even something that looked like it might have been a refrigerator.
The Desert King himself, Eco Steckler, was alone in the great room. He was standing at the precipice of the broken ship, looking up at the stars, and sipping on a drink.
Stu tensed. Steckler was completely vulnerable; all he had to do was rush up to the man and give him a push, and he would go tumbling off the side of the ship, falling at least three hundred feet to his death. But he hesitated. He wanted to speak to him first, find out what he had to say.
One of the guards cleared his throat to get Steckler's attention. The man turned, swallowed the rest of his drink, and motioned for his men to leave. "Wait outside," he told them.
The men left. This was even better; Stu was alone with the warlord now and had every opportunity to kill him if he wished. Dispatch the guards, rescue Lucky and Luna and the others, escape into the desert.
"What's your name?" Steckler asked.
"Stu."
"My name is Steckler," he said. "But I'm sure you already knew that." He spread his arms in an expansive gesture; Stu noticed that he was still wearing that strange black gauntlet. "It's magnificent, isn't it?"
"The ship?"
"Can you believe the Astrian government tried to keep this a secret? Even after the outbreak, they refused to let anyone near it. They shot anyone who got within seven miles of it."
"It's impressive," Stu allowed.
"We haven't even explored all of it yet. This part of the ship, the part above ground, is only a very small portion of it. There's much more buried beneath the sand." He changed the subject abruptly: "I understand you're a Pale Rider."
"I'm not," he said. "Your men made a mistake."
"They make lots of mistakes," he sighed, pouring himself another drink. "But they found a Rider coin on you."
"That was given to me by Marshal Tempo in Meku City. He told me any Rider who saw it would be obliged to help me."
"Help you do what?"
"I'm trying to get to Lon Halos."
"Ah." He sipped his drink. Stu was standing at least a dozen feet away from the man, but his Sniffer ability told him that the drink was brandy. "You don't owe allegiance to the Riders, then? That's good news. The Pale Riders are my enemies. I've almost driven them out of the desert, but there's still a few stragglers here and there. Where did you learn to fight like that? The way you killed those zombies...that was very impressive."
"Just lucky."
"You must have received some kind of special training. A former government operative, perhaps? A military background?"
"Maybe." Better to keep him guessing, he thought.
"Well, whoever you are, and wherever you came from, I have a proposition for you. I'd like you join my ranks."
He blinked. "Join you?"
"I can use men like you. I've secured most of the desert, but there's still a lot of work left to be done. As soon as I've finished running the Pale Riders out of Talife and Nevorn, I plan to move against the Dread in Lon Halos. After I destroy him, and his armies, my forces will control all of western Astria -- everything on this side of the Sunny Mountains. We'll kill the zombies. We'll make the world safe again, and peaceful, and prosperous. And you can be a part of this campaign. I would make you one of my lieutenants."
"Peaceful and prosperous," he muttered. "Your men have been raiding settlements all over the desert, killing and kidnapping people."
"We're at war."
"You've been capturing women, turning them in your...your slaves."
"They're better off with me than they would have been out in the desert, living in fear of the zombies."
"Who are you trying to fool with this garbage?" Stu exploded. "You're not some righteous philosopher-king. You're a jumped-up gangster. You don't give a shit about killing zombies and making the world a better place. You're in it for yourself."
"I'm sorry you feel that way." His voice was even, measured, but his eyes had narrowed just a bit.
"You made a big mistake, dismissing your guards. You saw what I did to those zombies in the cage. I could kill you in a second if I wanted to."
"Do you want to?"
"I'm seriously considering it."
He shook his head sadly. "What a waste. Very well, then. Let's get this over with."
Stu called upon his Speed Freak skill and started for the man. Steckler was some distance away, but Stu was sure he could close the gap between them in an instant. A single, devastating punch would put the Desert King's lights out for good.
Before he had taken more than two steps, however, Steckler raised his arm, and suddenly, somehow, Stu was on the floor, and a hairy black claw, something like the leg of a tarantula, was holding him down by the neck. It had shot out of nowhere, and now it was strangling him.
What the hell had happened? Looking up, he saw that the weird, hairy appendage, which was at least eight feet long, had emerged from Steckler's black gauntlet. But there were other appendages, too, emerging from Steckler's back, and as Stu watched, his whole body took on the form of a monstrous humanoid spider, covered in tufts of black hair. His head was swallowed up by the bristling hair, and eight glistening, orb-like eyes sprouted out of his face. It was like something out of a nightmare, and indeed, for a moment Stu thought he was hallucinating. But then the man-spider spoke: "It seems you're the one who made the mistake," he said lightly.
What was going on? What was he? Some kind of mutate?
The pressure around his neck increased. Stu seized the leg with both hands and tried to dislodge it, but it was strong, and it was already choking the life out of him, crushing his throat, making it impossible to breathe. He continued to struggle, but soon began to weaken.
His vision was starting to fade. He fought against it as long as he could, but finally, his arms fell to his sides, and the black swallowed him up. The last thing he saw was Steckler's menacing, spiderlike silhouette, looming over him, blocking out the stars.