Fortnights
Chapter 1: Getting Away With It
by Jonathan "KnightMysterio" Spires
All characters copyrighted to their original owners. If you like what you see, please support me o , or o with one-time donation! Every little bit helps me pay the bills!
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A bank…
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The bank was the most ritzy one in the city. It was also one of the few to contain actual money, a rarity in this age of digital transactions. To the two master thieves about to rob the place, it was the perfect target.
It was a well-planned heist. The manager, who had all the codes and keys to the vault, was in today. Security would be mid-shift transition, so things would be disorganized. There were no magnetic locks, which was their greatest fear as thieves (other than getting caught), so there would be no problem with completing the heist. They'd already disabled most of the alarms, including the fire alarms.
Now if they could only stop making out long enough to complete the heist.
"Sir? Ma'am?" the thoroughly amused bank worker said to the couple on the bench currently attempting to devour each other's faces, each one with a hand in an inappropriate area.
The man, a handsome, pale-skinned man with short brown hair, clad in bluejeans and a t-shirt, looked up, smiling pleasantly. "Mmmyes?"
"We were kind of in the middle of something," said the woman in his lap, a curvy, short-haired redhead with dark skin, clad in a miniskirt and crop top.
"That's the issue, sir and ma'am," the bank worker said apologetically, a smile on her face. "While we're not against couples enjoying each other's company, we have to draw the line at having sex in the lobby."
"You don't know we were going to do that," the woman protested.
"...Ma'am, your hand is on his crotch and you were undoing his pants when I came up to you," the bank worker said.
"Really now?" the man said, looking down. "Naughty naughty, dear. I may just have to punish you when we get home."
"That a promise?" the woman said, smirking as she re-fastened his pants.
The bank worker chuckled. "Yes. Well, I hate to sound like a bother," she said, "but if you aren't making a transaction, I'm afraid you'll have to leave."
"That's fine," the man said. "We are making a withdrawal, however we do require use of your spacious restroom facilities first."
The bank worker nodded. "That's perfectly fine," she said. As the two lovers stood up, the bank worker whispered to them in a conspiratorial fashion, she added, "The handicapped stall in the men's room is out of order. Perfect place to 'finish what you started.'"
The woman grinned. "I like you," she said. The bank worker giggled, trotting off. "I like her, my love."
The man chuckled. "We'll have to be kind to her once we're working," he said. "Shall we?" The two of them went to the bathroom, heading into the men's room. Indeed, there was a large, hand-printed sign saying that the stall was out of order. They had placed it there themselves last night, hiding their 'work clothes.' They wiped the makeup off of their faces, their features becoming less light and more aquiline, and rinsed the coloring out of their hair. They both stripped down to their underwear, removing wallets and keys from their pockets, and tossed their disguises, clothing they got from a Goodwill that morning, in the sink. They set their disguises on fire and dressed in their actual clothes.
The woman put on a black full body stocking, one that covered her head, but still allowed her to see and easily breath through it. She put on a red and white dress that had sleeves and a hoodie, a black equipment belt, a black, bullet-proof vest, thigh length black boots and elbow-length black gloves. She donned a mask which hid her face further, white with black highlights, pulling her hood up over her head.
The man put on a black full body stocking as well, along with a white business suit. He put on black gloves, black shoes, and pulled out a white mask. Four of them, to be precise, each one bearing the symbol of a card suit. After a moment's consideration, he put on the mask with the red diamonds symbol.
As a last flair, both of them put on a stylish tie, black for the male, white for the female.
"Fabulous as always, Wild Card," the woman said.
"And you as well, my dear Ace," the man said, kissing her hand through his mask. From the bag that held their clothes, they pulled out six more items – a pair of long crowbars, two silenced pistols, a SPAS-12 shotgun, and a Thompson submachine gun. "Well then. To work," Wild Card said, he and Ace clinking their crowbars together in a toast. They holstered their crowbars on their backs, Ace brandishing the shotgun, Wild Card taking the tommy gun.
Thunder rumbled, and the sound of rain began to fill the bathroom.
"Odd," Ace said. "Wasn't expecting a storm today..."
"It shouldn't affect the plan," Wild Card said. "Let's move on, shall we?"
Ace nodded, but she still felt uneasy. "To work."
The two kicked open the bathroom door, Wild Card firing the tommy gun into the air. "Ladies, gentlemen, and bank employees! As you may have guessed, this is a heist! As neither of us want a murder rap on our records and none of you want to be murdered, I suggest you all GET ON THE FLOOR NOW!"
The crowd, panicking, did as they asked. Some tried to run, and the guards tried to bring their own guns to bear, but Ace and Wild Card were ready for them, taking advantage of their disorganized state due to the shift change. Ace pulled out her pistol and shot the guards guns out of their hands. Wild Card did the same, shooting the people who ran in the legs before they could escape. Ace immediately went over to claim the guns of the guards, keeping her shotgun trained on them.
"Excellent work, my dear," Wild Card said. "Now. Before we relieve this fine establishment of its valuables, I believe that the people I shot need treatment. Dr. Anthony Weller, I believe you were planning to visit the bank today?"
An older man looked up, alarmed. "How did you-" he started.
"We're the Getaway Gang," Ace said, moving over to the tellers after claiming the guards guns and tying them up with zipties. "We get away with everything because we plan to the smallest detail."
"Including knowing when a physician who specializes in gunshot wounds would be visiting the place we might need to shoot bullets in," Wild Card said, holding out his hand. Ace tossed him a medical kit from her gear pouch, and gave it to the doctor. "Here you go, sir. Take care of those poor unfortunates."
The doctor, reluctantly, went to work, while Ace went up to the bank tellers, smirking beneath her mask. She put a large back bag on the table, the bag which held their gear earlier. "Fill it up, please. As much money as you can, in LARGE denominations only."
The teller, a scared young man with the front of his pants visibly darkening from piss, "W-we don't have that much money..."
"You also have a large cache, so to speak, of rare American dollar bills, a currency that hasn't been in circulation since Vbucks became the global standard," Wild Card said. "We get them to our buyer, we get an even bigger payout."
Ace pressed her shotgun into the teller's face, climbing over the till. "So if you please… fill 'er up."
The teller whimpered. "I don't even have the authority to access the main vault. I just started working here today!"
"...Wow, okay, I actually feel bad for you now," Ace said sincerely, managing to look sympathetic despite her face-concealing mask. "I'm not going to let you go, but I am going to make you get someone who can open the vault."
"And do make haste," Wild Card said. "We're on something of a clock here."
"And before any of you decide to get cute," Ace said, "I severed the phone and alarm lines before we even entered the building."
Another teller, who had been pressing a button under her desk with increasing panic, whimpered, raised her hands into view in a gesture of surrender.
"Isn't she great, folks?" Wild Card said adoringly. "There's a reason she's the Ace of this team."
"Yes, yes, I'm brilliant. Now come on," Ace said, gesturing to the teller she had prisoner. "To the manager's office."
The teller, crying with fear, led him to the manager's office. As the two of them tried to leave, the teller filling the bag Ace had given her tried to put a paint pack in the bag with the Vbucks. A bullet whizzed past her ear.
"I'd rather you didn't," Wild Card said. "We wish to spend the money we'd get from that."
The clerk whimpered.
Meanwhile, Ace led her prisoner to the bank's main office. She shoved him aside and kicked open the door. Inside the man at the desk yelped.
"...That was supposed to be a security door," the bearded man muttered, frozen in the act of putting American dollar bills into a briefcase rigged with handcuffs.
"It was. I've simply encountered them so many times that I know all their weak spots," Ace said. "Planning on leaving?" She shoved the clerk forward and aimed her shotgun at them both. "It wouldn't be through that private security door in your office, would it? The one triggered by the fake book marked 'Greed?' Very Addams Family, by the way. I like it."
The bank manager look startled. "H-How did you..."
"I don't call myself Ace because it sounds cool," Ace said. "I call myself Ace because I'm the BEST, and only Wild Card is my equal. Now if you please, finish loading that money into the briefcase. Then we're going to take a trip to the vault."
"...And if I don't cooperate?" the bank manager said defiantly.
Ace pulled out her pistol and shot him in the foot. It was a non-fatal wound, but it hurt like hell, the bank manager groaning in agony, falling to the ground as he clutched the bleeding wound. "There's a doctor out in the lobby. Give me the code to the vault, and Skippy Longstockings here can take you to him."
The bank manager glared at her. "Damn you..."
"Yeah yeah yeah," Ace said. "Heard it all before. Now, the code, if you please," she said.
The bank manager glared at the masked woman a long moment, and then sighed, shaking his head. He had the clerk write it down, Ace leading the two of them back into the main lobby. True to her word, she let the bank manager go to the doctor. "Got us a present, Wild Card!" she said, holding up the cuffed briefcase. "Scumbag here was already shoving some extra of what we came for in here!"
"Excellent work, my dear! Now, shall we head to the vault?" Wild Card said.
"All yours, my love," Ace said, giving him the code. "I'll take over watching the plebs."
"I leave them to your care, dearest Ace," Wild Card said, heading for the main vault, grabbing the bag of money from the teller that had filled it. He went up to the large, wheel-locked door, entering the security code and unlocking it. It had been pathetically easy to get the measure of the building's security. He pulled open the door, and smiled, seeing his treasures right in a lockbox at the very end of the vault. Jamming his crowbar into it, he tore it open with a yank, revealing several large stacks of ten-thousand dollar bills. No longer in circulation, these would fetch a great price on the open market.
"Marvelous," Wild Card said, stuffing the stacks into the bag. He ran out to join Ace, tossing her the duffel bag of money, while she gave him the cuffed case. Mounting their prizes on their backs, the two of them turned to the crowd.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Wild Card said, bowing dramatically, "we hope you have enjoyed this show."
"You've been graced with a rare opportunity to see the greatest thieves in the world in action!" Ace said.
Wild Card pulled out one of their calling cards from his pocket, the card bearing a black and red circle with all four card suit symbols in it in white, and set it down on a nearby table. "We wish you well and say God bless you on this fine day!"
"Farewell, everyone! Enjoy the fact that you have been visited by the Getaway Gang on this beautiful Fall day!" Ace said, she and Wild Card laughing as they exited the bank.
Silence reigned as the hostages waited to see if they were still in danger. Once it seemed that the criminals weren't coming back, they began to pick themselves up. They muttered among themselves, trying to figure out what happened, freeing the guards who had been tied up. People with cell phones began to call the police.
Moments after the people began to dial, Wild Card and Ace, looking visibly terrified through their masks, ran into the bank again. They immediately slammed the doors behind them, and ran to get chairs to barricade the doors.
"Do you think it will be enough?!" Ace asked frantically.
"God, I don't know," Wild Card said, visibly shaking. "Those… those THINGS they just..."
"Excuse me," said a VERY angry voice. Wild Card and Ace slowly turned, seeing the furious bank patrons glaring at them all.
"...Ah," Wild Card said after a moment.
"Oh dear," Ace said. "Rock and a hard place..."
The guards came up through the crowd, truncheons at the ready. "You shouldn't have come back."
Wild Card took a moment to compose himself, putting a hand to his mouth and coughing into it. "Well… You see, gentlemen, my partner and I found ourselves in a bit of a conundrum. For when we exited your fine financial establishment, we encountered a problem for which we were unprepared."
"Which was?" one guard asked.
"The zombie apocalypse," Wild Card and Ace said in unison. "I realize how this sounds," Wild Card admitted.
"It sounds fuckin' crazy," the lead guard said.
"You're not holding the people hostage again, Wild Card!" said another guard.
"Hostage? Why, we wouldn't dream of it," Wild Card said, moving the chairs away from the door, looking at Ace pointedly.
She immediately got what her partner meant. "No, no, please feel free to leave." She opened the door for the guards, motioning for them to go outside.
"..." the lead guard glared at the two thieves suspiciously. "You, you, and you, come with me. The rest of you, keep an eye on these bastards. If they go for their guns, dogpile them."
The guards saluted, the chosen guards following the lead guard out of the door of the mostly soundproofed bank… and into Hell.
Above them all, a great storm ranged, purple clouds rippling like ocean waves as purple lightning rained down. Monsters roamed the streets, people screaming as they were beaten to death or eaten alive by the humanoid abominations lumbering around, thunder and wind mostly drowning out the sound of screaming. Hulking brutes smashed cars, while the vast majority of the creatures, rail-thin humanoids with glowing auras inside their skulls, their faces hanging on the back of their necks like hoods, stalked about.
Before the terrified eyes of the guards, a woman who had been crushed by a hug from the hulking monster slowly staggered to her feet, gripped the sides of her mouth, and pulled her face off over her skull like a hood, revealing a glowing-eyed skull.
The guards ran back inside, barricading the doors again.
"Everyone… Something very bad is happening outside," the lead guard said. "For the time being, we're all going to have to cooperate. Go to every entrance and shove as much as you can from it. I want all ways in and out of the building blocked off."
"What's going out there, captain?" asked one of the female guards.
"Exactly what they said," the lead guard said. "GO!"
Worried, the guards did as they were told. The lead guard turned to Wild Card and Ace. "Can we count on your help?"
"We are criminals, and have a strong self-interested streak, but we are not callous," Wild Card said.
"Whatever we can do to help, we're in," Ace said.
The lead guard nodded. "Good. Watch the windows. We'll get our people armed and set them all around the lobby," he said. He then turned to the people in the lobby. "Everyone! If you'll all gather together and get ready to go into the vault? It's heavily armored, can be opened from the inside, and should be able to protect everyone."
"From WHAT?!" the bank manager demanded, limping over to the lead guard.
"From the monsters outside," the lead guard said.
The bank manager scoffed. "You can't seriously expect me to-" whatever the bank manager was about to say was cut off, a skull flying through the window and biting his head off in a single chomp. The bank manager fell to his knees, his severed stump of a neck spurting blood, everyone staring in shock. The skull itself rolled in a circle, stopping right in front of the guards and the two criminals.
Then it began to sing. "IIIIII AIN'T GOT NOBOOOOOOODY!"
Wild Card crushed the skull with a single blow from his crowbar. That served as the patrons' cue to panic.
"Everyone, please stay calm!" the lead guard shouted. "Please assist in barricading the doors and windows! We're going to try and hold out until rescue comes! Can anyone get reception through the storm?"
Eventually, people calmed down enough to start doing what the lead guard asked, pushing chairs and tables up against the windows. Those with phones found out they couldn't get any reception.
"We'll just have to make do, then," the lead guard said as the guards came back from setting up barricades, bringing weapons. "Everyone, get ready. We hold the line here. No one dies, not even the criminals."
"Love you too, captain," Ace said.
"No one deserves to die the way I saw those people dying," the lead guard said. "Prepare yourself."
Wild Card and Ace nodded, getting into position where the lead guard told him. As he issued commands, the two thieves had to admit a grudging respect for the man.
"He seems capable," Wild Card said.
Ace nodded in agreement. Thunder rumbled, and Ace flinched. "I just wish this storm would go away," she said. "It's unnatural..."
"A true harbinger of the end," Wild Card said. "But we'll get out of this, my dear. We're the Getaway Gang. We're ALWAYS getting away with it."
"I don't know," Ace said, fingering the trigger of her shotgun. "This feels different… Like we're not going to escape."
"We WILL," Wild Card insisted, firmly believing everything he said. "We will. And once we're away, we'll make a movie of it. A combination heist film/zombie movie! Imagine the box office returns!"
"I admire your confidence, beloved," Ace said softly, chuckling at the idea.
For a brief few minutes, there was silence. Weapons were passed out, Ace and Wild Card keeping their own weapons. The civilians were all herded towards the vault, ready to retreat inside it should the need arise. The sounds of the monsters outside, inaudible at first through the thick walls of the bank, started to get louder and louder.
"They're approaching the doors," said one of the guards.
"Get ready," said the captain.
There was a pounding as the zombies began to smash their way into the building. Gunfire blazed, fire-skulled zombies falling in splatters of yellow. Heavy caliber shells tore through necrotic, cursed flesh, the storm thundering viciously outside. The guards did their best to focus on the monsters, using their fallen bodies to try and build up a natural wall.
"They're everywhere!" shouted one guard.
"Stoic up, my good man!" Wild Card said. "We can do this!"
The monsters kept coming, an endless wave. As if they could sense that the people in the bank were the only humans left. As the battle went on, more and more freakish monsters began to appear, some throwing fireballs, some fat and hulking. Smaller ones scrambled over their fallen brethren and attacked, the guards realizing to their horror that these smaller zombies were children..
"What the FUCK is going on?!" shouted one of the guards.
"Questions later! Keep shooting!" the captain shouted.
Bullets flew, shells exploded, and zombies fell. Each guard and the two thieves were keeping track of their ammunition count, well aware that they were starting to run low. But they would keep fighting. They had to protect the innocents in the bank. It was their job.
And then one of the civilians began to scream. Not a scream of fear, but a scream of utter, guttural agony. Still firing, Ace whirled around, paling beneath her mask. "Oh my God… They're coming out of the director's office!"
"WHAT?!" the captain shouted, using his rifle butt to cave in the skull of a female zombie.
"The hidden exit in his office..." Ace said, realizing her mistake. "We didn't think to block off the hidden exit in his office!"
The arrival of monsters into the bank caused mass panic. The civilians began to scatter, unintentionally trampling each other and running into more monsters. Some tried to get into the vault and close it behind them, only for several monsters to follow them in just as the door shut. Blood began to ooze from underneath the metal.
And one by one the guards began to fall. Distracted or jostled by fleeing civilians, they were overtaken and torn apart by the vicious zombies. The captain was the last to die, the wall collapsing on top of him as the monsters broke through at last, stalking towards the two of them.
Only the Getaway Gang was left. The two stared out into the raging purple storm, zombies and monsters swarming around them, chuckling viciously.
"I'm sorry," Ace said regretfully. "I didn't think to barricade that entrance..."
"Come now, my dear," Wild Card said, feigning cheerfulness for his beloved's benefit. "I didn't think to check it either. And really, how often does one encounter a zombie apocalypse? There's no real sensible way to prepare for one without previous experience."
"This seems to be our last one," Ace said softly. She checked her guns, finding them out of ammo, and discarded them, brandishing her crowbar. "I wish..."
Wild Card pulled up both his masks, then did the same for Ace. He then pulled her into a passionate kiss, the two lovers sharing a final embrace. "I love you, my Ace," Wild Card said. He too was out of ammo and wielding just his crowbar.
"I love you, my Wild Card," Ace said softly.
"We may not be getting away this time," Wild Card said. "Too many here for my little trick to be effective… But let's make sure we take as many of these bastards as we can with us."
"Amen," Ace said, grinning as the two of them pulled their masks back into place, the two clanking their crowbars together in a final toast. "Okay, freakshows. BRING IT ON!"
The monsters charged the two, mainly the smaller ones. Crowbars smashed and punctured bodies as the two master thieves struggled to stay alive. And to their credit, they managed to put up a decent fight. Ace struck with precision, each blow a lethal one to a zombie. Wild Card's unpredictable attacks seem to come at all angles at once, zombies unable to block without getting viciously destroyed.
But the horde was endless. For every one zombie the Getaway Gang destroyed, ten more took their place. And large, hulking brute zombies were making their way in. The two of them braced themselves as the brutes made their way towards them, Wild Card stepping in front of Ace…
And then the zombies faded away, disappearing into ash, as if they were never there. Wild Card and Ace looked at each other, startled, wondering what happened. "...That was odd," Ace understated. Wild Card laughed nervously.
"Wait," said a voice from outside. "SURVIVORS?! Hey, if you're alive, say something!"
Wild Card and Ace traded concerned looks. They still had their loot with them. They could just leave. But criminals they may be, heartless they were not. If there were others who survived the storm and the zombie horde, they had to help them.
"Yes!" Wild Card said. "Just the two of us, I'm afraid! In the bank!" He and Ace stepped out, stopping as they saw a quartet of soldiers, in slightly-armored camo pants and green shirts, standing around a large device with a huge glass sphere on top of it, containing the purple clouds that had been ravaging the skies earlier.
The apparent leader of the group, a Latina woman, stepped forward. "Thank God… I'm Major Angelica Ramirez, Vindertech Special Forces. I was afraid we didn't get here in time to save anyone," she said.
"Wild Card and Ace," Wild Card said, deciding to use their professional names.
"Wait, I know those names!" the large black male soldier said. "You're the Getaway Gang! Hell, I seen you on the news a few times!"
Ace chuckled. "We do have something of a reputation," she said. "And before you ask, we were robbing that bank before the apocalypse set in. We tried to aid the people inside once the zombies attacked, but… well..."
While they were talking, the blonde male had gone into the bank to examine it. He came out looking ill. "Yeah, this is a pretty bad one..." he said.
"How bad are we talking?" asked the female black soldier.
"Some of the horde trapped some people in the vault," the blonde said, pulling out a small bottle of pink medicine and chugging it. "Not as bad as Budapest, but pretty dang close..."
"Damn it…" Ramirez said, shaking her head. "All right. Jonesy, you and Spitfire take the Storm Absorber back to the truck so Dr. Vinderman can study it. Maybe this time will be the one where we learn how to PREDICT when Storms will show up. Banshee, go get a couple Storm Pods set up."
"Ah," Ace said. "I was wondering about that device..."
Ramirez nodded. "It's a machine meant to absorb the energy of the Storm itself. When a Storm instance shows up, we try and get to it and contain it to minimize the casualties. Dr. Vinderman has been studying it for years now, trying to contain it. Outbreaks of it are getting worse..."
"Apparently," Wild Card said dryly. "Well, if there's nothing else, we'd like to be on our way. I do hope the fact that we're leaving with ill gotten gains isn't a problem."
"Not at all," Ramirez said, shaking her head. "One, you've just been through a Storm. So long as you weren't killing anyone yourself, I'd say you'd earned the right to walk away. Two… You can't walk away."
Wild Card's eyes narrowed. Ace frowned, idly tapping her crowbar into her hand. "And the reason for that would be..."
Ramirez sighed, smiling sadly. "You've been through a Storm. So have we. Surviving a Storm has… consequences…"
Wild Card and Ace traded worried looks. "Define consequences," Wild Card demanded.
"Exposure to Storm energy changes you. Without certain procedures, you'll become Husks yourselves, like the unfortunate victims of the Storm you were forced to slay earlier. In fact, you should be feeling the first effects of it right abouuuut… now," Ramirez said.
And sure enough, as soon as she said it, both Wild Card and Ace were suddenly hit with intense pain, their bodies radiating purple electricity as they collapsed, writing in agony, their crowbars clanking to the ground.
It was pain unlike anything they had ever experienced. Both Ace and Wild Card felt as if every molecule in their bodies were being torn apart and reassembled with wielding torches while being electrocuted at the same time. And their faces felt like they were on fire, as if the skin from their faces was trying to peel away at the mouth.
Ramirez hit both of them with a powerful tranquilizer/pain-killer from a dart gun on her waist, both of them falling mercifully unconscious but still tense, still radiating storm energy. She then sighed, shaking her head, and picked up Wild Card, hefting the sparking, white-suited thief on one shoulder. Banshee came up to her, the dark-skinned soldier shaking her head as she picked up Ace.
"Gettin' all sorts of people for the island these days," Banshee said. "And these two are actually celebrities."
"Dr. Vinderman mentioned that he was impressed by their work," Ramirez said as she and Banshee took the two thieves to their truck, a massive eighteen-wheeler, setting them inside individual pods that looked like silver eggs. They set them down on the cushions and sealed them inside, Ramirez opening a panel on each egg and activating them.
Dark purple energy washed over the two thieves, the sparking in their bodies going away as they relaxed. "We'll let them sleep for a night," Ramirez said. She turned to the others. "Set course for Royale Island Two."
Jonesy, Spitfire, and Banshee saluted, Spitfire and Banshee heading up to drive the truck while Ramirez stayed behind to monitor the thieves.
"Helluva thing," Jonesy said, the blonde man leaning against the Storm Absorber.
"They're alive," Ramirez said. "That's what is important."
"Yeah," Jonesy said. "But you know that they're gonna end up recruited into the Battle Royale."
"The Royale is optional, Jonesy, you know that," Ramirez said, sighing.
Jonesy shook his head. "Everyone joins the Battle Royale. It's the most interesting thing to do on the island, even with all the comforts Dr. Vinderman provides," he said. "I'm just…" He sighed. "I'm tired of being too late. Of just bringing people to that stupid, freaking, constantly warping island. They've got a freaking golf course up now where Anarchy Acres used to be. Literally just appeared a few days ago."
Ramirez sat down, sighing wearily. "I'm tired of it too, Jonesy. But we're here to do a job, and save as many people as we can. We just have to trust that the Doctor can fix things eventually."
"I hope so..." Jonesy said.
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Hours later…
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Wild Card was the first to awaken, groaning in pain and pulling his mask off. He looked around, seeing the egg around him, the purple energy flowing in and out of him, Ace coming to her senses in the egg next to him… and frowned.
"Oh drat… It wasn't a dream, then..." he muttered
"What's going on?" Ace said groggily, removing her mask as well. Her voice was being broadcast through a speaker in Wild Card's egg, and he assumed his would be broadcast to her as well. "The last thing I remember is… pain..." She suddenly became fully aware, looking at Wild Card.
"It's all right," Wild Card said. "It seems that we're in a healing chamber of some kind."
"A wise assumption," said a voice with a light German accent. Wild Card and Ace turned, spotting an older man being displayed on a monitor, Ramirez and Jonesy standing next to it. The man had a long, bushy beard and neatly combed hair, both beard and hair a graying black. "I am Doctor Siegfried Vinderman, Creator and CEO of Vindertech."
Both of the thieves were impressed. "It's an honor, sir," Ace said, smiling sincerely.
"Indeed," Wild Card said, grinning widely. "To meet the man who not only found a way around monopoly laws of every country and took control of every business in the world, but also subverted the global economy so that money that he created is the only currency used in the world? MOST impressive."
Dr. Vinderman sighed. "I'm not proud of that," he said. "But after what my Oracle Machine saw in another world… One engulfed by the Storm…" He shook his head. "I had to do something. And I needed all the world under control so I could study the Storm and try to prevent its occurrences. My success has been… Limited..."
"What is the Storm, anyway?" Ace asked, noticing that he was using it as a proper noun.
"I don't know," Dr. Vinderman admitted. "All I know for sure about it is that it is sapient, it has appeared multiple times throughout history… and that it possesses a virulent hatred for all of humanity."
"...Not a comforting thought," Wild Card said.
"It's not meant to be," Dr. Vinderman said. "As for what I'm guessing is your next most obvious question, what happened to you is what I shall answer next."
"Please do," Ace said. "I'm not claustrophobic but I'd like to get out of here." She tapped on the door, her expression nervous.
Dr. Vinderman sighed. "This is where I give bad news… The devices are not healing you. Not really. They are stabilizing you, stabilizing the residual Storm energy in your bodies. And you will need to spend a few hours in these pods every week for the rest of your lives."
"...I'm sorry, what?" Wild Card said, looking alarmed.
"The REST OF OUR LIVES?!" Ace almost shrieked.
Ramirez nodded. "My unit and I all need to use the Storm Pods too," she said. "We're just very lucky that he got the design for them right the first time, since ours were the prototypes."
"We are taking you to a facility, an island, where you and other Storm Survivors will live," Dr. Vinderman said. "You will be fed, clothed, housed..."
Both thieves slumped over in their pods, stunned. Ace shook her head. "There has to be some way out of this," she said. "We're the Getaway Gang. We ALWAYS escape..."
"Not this time, I'm afraid," Dr. Vinderman said sadly. "The Storm has claimed you. And the primary power source of the Storm Pods is on the island. They're running on battery power right now, but that will run out. Which means you must be renewed by my devices weekly, at the island where the primary power sources is located, or you will become the Storm's servants..."
Wild Card's fists clenched. "Damnable thing… So we're refugees now?" he said angrily.
"I'm afraid so," Dr. Vinderman said. "However, there is good news..."
"Good news," Ace said, her voice a snarl. "We've lost our lives to the Storm and now have to live on some island with a bunch of refugees for the rest of our lives while occasionally taking ENERGY BATHS so we don't start wearing our own faces as HOODIES! What could POSSIBLY be good about ANY OF THIS!?"
Ramirez and Jonesy traded amused looks. Dr. Vinderman smirked. "The place you'll be staying is a paradise and you can have your own fully customized penthouse apartment. Or even a full house, if you wish."
The two thieves blinked as one. "What?" they said in unison.
Dr. Vinderman turned away from the camera. "Ray, if you'll start the slideshow?" he asked.
"Right away, Dr. Vinderman!" said an electronically modulated female voice. There was a clicking sound, and the image changed. A tropical paradise was shown with a thriving community. Massive hotels, a theme park, what looked to be a superhero headquarters and a supervillain headquarters, an arcade, restaurants galore..."
"A spa," Ace said excitedly. "Wild Card, I saw a SPA!"
Wild Card was stroking his chin thoughtfully. Then he grinned. "Very clever, Doctor..."
Dr. Vinderman came back on the screen, one eyebrow raised in an amused gesture. "I have more money than I'll ever be able to spend in a billion lifetimes. Why not use it to make those forced to live on my island comfortable?"
"Very comfortable, from the looks of it," Wild Card said.
"Dr. Vinderman," Ace said, relieved, "thank you. I was worried this was going to be a prison sentence."
"Certainly not," Dr. Vinderman said, offended. "You are in my care now. I make sure that those in my care are protected."
"Indeed," Wild Card said. "Does the island have events?"
Ramirez and Jonesy traded amused grins again. "Well," Jonesy said. "Lemme tell you about the Battle Royale..."
The two master thieves traded curious looks, relaxing in their pods as Jonesy began to talk. "Y'see, the Storm Pods have an extra feature. It lets you broadcast your mind into a holographic body. Y'can't stay in the Pods too long, they're perfectly safe, so you can use the holographic body to explore another island the Doc has set up, one where physics are… well, weird."
Ramirez chimed in. "Almost everything on the island can be broken down using a pickaxe-like tool, made into one of three different kinds of material, wood, stone, and metal, to be used in Dr. Vinderman's autobuilder devices."
"You can build all sorts of towers and ramps and stuff," Jonesy said. "As for your bodies, well… You can feel pleasure normally in them. But pain is greatly reduced. Like, a shotgun blast to the face will just sting for a moment."
Ramirez smirked. "Which led to the most popular activity among Storm Survivors – the Battle Royale."
"About a hundred of us start out on a small island near the main Royale Island," Jonesy said, grinning widely. "Once we've all broadcasted in, we all get on this specially rigged bus, we call it the Battle Bus, and skydive down to the island, using this special, fully customizable gliders to land safely. We scavenge for weapons, and the last man standing wins. Usually extra Vbucks to go with what we get weekly."
Ace blinked. "You're literally paying us to stay on the island," she said.
"And, only if you want to, you get to play with cool weapons and stuff and shoot people without guilt. Not a single drop of blood is spilled. If you get eliminated, instead of dying you just wake up in your Storm Pod," Ramirez said.
Dr. Vinderman chimed in. "It serves a study ground for me, meaning that the Battle Royale also helps as much as it entertains. The violence draws Storm instances to the island, slowly closing around it in a circle over the course of a day. The Storm dissipates if someone wins, or if it gets a chance to close in. The holographic bodies aren't hurt by the Storm, but it does disrupt them. Long enough exposure will count as an 'elimination,' so if you participate, try to keep out of the Storm."
"And honestly? People play on the island as much as they fight," Ramirez added. "They goof around, they explore…" Ramirez blushed a little. "...They do 'other things...'" The master thieves smirked, getting what she meant immediately. Ramirez coughed, composing herself, and continued. "The actual soldiers really are the only ones who take the Battle Royale completely seriously."
"Well… them and the soccer team," Jonesy said, looking irritated.
Ramirez cringed. "Don't talk to me about those tryhards… About the only thing that can distract them is the soccer fields, and they always fucking team up, even in Solos..."
Wild Card and Ace traded amused looks. After a moment, Ace asked, "I saw superheroes flying around in that video of yours. I'm assuming that your island is where they disappeared to a few months ago?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Dr. Vinderman said. "It's lucky that their villains were forced to come here as well, limiting the threat they pose."
"The rocket," Ramirez said softly.
Dr. Vinderman scowled. "I said limit, not eliminate..." he muttered.
"We'll explain later," Jonesy said at the thieves curious looks.
"Very well..." Wild Card asked. "This does bring to mind a serious question about their powers, and the advantages they could bring..."
"I have rigged the holographic bodies to have baseline human levels of strength, depending on their physical fitness. Those with wings might be able to fly, but only because it's a natural physical ability of theirs. No energy blasts, no non-winged flight, no magic beyond cosmetic effects… The Battle Royale is completely fair," Dr. Vinderman said proudly.
Wild Card smiled. "This is growing more and more fascinating..." he said. "Do you have variations in the matchups?"
Jonesy nodded. "Singles, duos, trios, four-man squads… Doesn't stop people from teaming up," he said, adding with a mutter. "Like the goddamn soccer team… But in the end, only one contestant or team can win."
"We also do more unique challenge games now and then," Ramirez said. "Two team of fifty, jetpacks and shotguns only, explosive weapons only, that sort of thing..."
Ace and Wild Card talked quietly to one another for a moment, mischievous grins on their faces. After a few moments, they turned back to the others. "We're definitely going to participate in the Battle Royale, my good doctor," Wild Card said. "We even have an idea for a unique challenge..."
Dr. Vinderman smiled. "I'm all ears," he said. The Getaway Gang explained their idea for a game. And the master of Royale Island laughed. "Oh, this is going to be a very fun time indeed."
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Later…
Royale Island…
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
As they dove down out of the Battle Bus, phantom Vbucks trailing behind them, Wild Card and Ace chatted idly with each other as they fell to the island.
"A thought occurred to me just now, my dear," Wild Card said. "It was in a very roundabout way… but we did get away with our robbery."
Ace thought about it, and laughed. "Y'know what? We did," she said, looking back to the money-stuffed satchel on her back. "Vindermen let us keep our stolen loot as 'back bling.'" She shook her head at the term.
"And now?" Wild Card said, grinning beneath his mask, "we get to get away with it over and over again. In a whole new setting to challenge ourselves in."
Ace grinned as well. "Ha! You're right!" she said.
Once they had fallen a certain distance, the two master thieves released their gliders, customized to look like vault doors with treasure stacked on top of them, floating down to land on top of the golf course's main building. They pocketed their gliders once they landed, looking up to see safes falling from the sky. Inside of them were large jewels in the shape of llamas, Dr. Vinderman's favorite animal.
Ace and Wild Card clinked their crowbars together. "To work, my dear?" Wild Card asked.
Ace nodded, grinning. "To work. Here's to getting away with it forever."
"Amen!" Wild Card said, laughing.
THE END