Cottontail Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Excuse me, madam… oh, this is most peculiar.

The weirdly British voice was the first thing I heard as my brain rebooted. It wasn’t like, modern British either, it was like… old timey. Like a posh person from an old movie or something.

Sir, I’m going to ask you to wake up. You are dying, and we have very little time with which to correct this.

Dying?

My eyes flickered open, and right in front of them the dead maw of an Antithesis was slowly dripping alien blood into my van. I screamed and struggled to get away from the horrifying sight, but my two seatbelts kept me firmly in place. God damn government safety regulations!

Scrambling with fingers that ached like I’d just been in a car crash, I clicked the seatbelts off and pushed at the door. I tumbled out onto the dry dust of the truck stop lot and promptly screamed again, this time in pain. Something in my right leg was very very wrong. Collapsing to the ground seemed like the only thing I could do, so that’s what I did.

Before I could reach the blissfully steady ground, strong hands wove under my armpits and began to drag me away from the sparking wreck of my van. “Damn, boy, but you can make an entrance.”

“T-thanks,” I croaked, scrunching my eyes shut to deal with the pain that was clawing its way up my body.

“Are you 707?” he asked, while a series of other voices drew closer. The sound of a door opening interrupted my thoughts, and the jolt of my wounded leg hitting the doorway erased any reply I’d been formulating.

A rough, bearded face filled my vision when I came back from my little trip down pain lane. “You’re 707, right?”

“Yes,” I gasped, trying to get a read on both him and my surroundings.

We were in the interior of the prefabricated building that served as a place for truckers to relax and eat something while their trucks refuelled or recharged. Cheap and flimsy furniture was stacked up against the wide plexiglass windows in a very naive attempt to reinforce them. Down at the other end of the room, an automated mcdonalds sat gathering dust. It was a very depressing place, all up.

707 is your chosen moniker? I see. Well, 707, I would suggest we—

“Who are you?” I blurted, eyes going wide as the voice spoke directly into my head again.

“Well, I’m Chazza,” the guy who’d dragged me in said, crouching down in front of me to look at my leg. He was a tall, younger dude with a face that had seen way too much dust to retain all of its youth and close cropped blonde hair. “Shit, your leg is real busted up, mate.”

707. Allow me to reintroduce myself, since it seems you lost consciousness during the prepackaged welcoming message. I am Gyre, a Vanguard Personal Assistant Artificial Intelligence, and you are my Vanguard.

Oh. Oh, holy shit. Holy shitballs.

I covered my mouth and stared up at the uncomprehending face of Chazza. I was… I was… a samurai? I was one of the very few humans to be chosen by the Protectors to wield their almost godlike power in order to protect humanity? Wait, that meant I was going to have to go around fighting hive mind alien invaders for the rest of my life! Was that exciting or terrifying? Probably both.

707, while I understand that this will take a while to fully comprehend, I need you back on your feet with a weapon in hand, do you understand? There are more antithesis on the way, and you are wounded.

“Yes,” I croaked, still reeling from my situation.

Good. Now, I suggest we go with a staple of new vanguard everywhere, and purchase the Class I Medical Utilities catalogue. This will give us options with which to heal you.

My head spun. “W-what? What is a catalogue?”

Oh my, I am terribly sorry. I appear to have gotten ahead of myself in my excitement. As a vanguard, you will gain points and you will be able to use these in order to purchase whatever you need to do your duty as a vanguard. Right now, you have the 100 points that are given to every new vanguard, along with thirty more for the three antithesis model threes you killed outside.

“Okay, um…” I began, before glancing back up at the truckers, who were staring at me in turn with a mixture of amusement and pity.

“Old mate has a head injury,” a darker skinned guy said, tapping his curly black hair with a finger. “My cousin got hit so hard playing rugby one time that he forgot how to speak english. Fully only spoke in korean, ay.”

“Fuck off, Valu,” one of the other guys said, another youngish white boy about my age, maybe twenty five. “You’re so full of shit, man.”

“Nah bro, it’s true!” the polynesian guy said emphatically.

Ignoring their bickering, Gyre continued with his explanation. A catalogue is just that, a catalogue containing purchase options for your points. Some give access to more powerful options than others, and will cost more, or even require that you have a previous catalogue purchased. Currently, we require medical items in order to bring your body back to its previous level of integrity. The cheapest option is the Class I Medical Utilities catalogue.

“Okay, buy it,” I muttered, now under my breath.

Class I Medical Utilities unlocked!
Points reduced to... 80

Good, now although you have not bled too much, thanks to your coveralls sticking to and stemming the flow of blood from the fracture in your leg, we will need something to patch the hole.

I groaned and looked down at my leg, which Chazza was still fussing over. Under my breath, I asked, “Gyre, do I have to approve every purchase? I have no idea how to navigate all this stuff right now, and I’m still bleeding.”

Oh, good! Yes, I am indeed able to make purchase decisions, with your consent, of course.

“Get me a bandage and something for… for the break, please,” I mumbled.

New Purchase: Class I Fabresthetic Bandage
Points reduced to… 78

Without a word, a little cream coloured box appeared slightly off the ground next to my hand. It plopped down as gravity asserted its dominance, and I reached for it.

“Fuck me!” Chazza blurted, falling backwards onto his ass. “You’re a…”

Cringing internally at the looks the four men were giving me, I did my best to ignore them and open the box. It had a roll of plastic wrapped fabric in it, which I pulled out and peeled off. It was made of a clear substance that I didn’t recognise, woven through with translucent strips of plastic.

Taking the bandage, I motioned to my leg and gave Chazza a timid, imploring look, “Hey… um, can you cut my pants away or something?”

Clearing his throat, he nodded slowly and reached into his boot, pulling out a wicked looking combat knife. One calloused hand closed gently around my leg while the other worked to cut the flimsy coverall pants off at the knee. The break was one of my shin bones, about two thirds of the way up the bone. Fu-udge that hurt!

When I could see what was going on, I lifted the bandage and slapped it down over the hole my bone had poked through my flesh. Thankfully, it had been pulled back inside when Chazza dragged me out of the wreck, or I’d have had to push it back in myself.

The pain began to ebb after the bandage was applied, and I sighed in relief. Pain sucked. I could handle it, but it still sucked.

I’m afraid that we are far from done here, 707, Gyre said. You must now keep the bone steady while injecting this next purchase.

New Purchase: Nano-Regenerative Suite
Points reduced to… 63

Another cream-white plastic box dropped to the ground next to me, appearing without any fanfare.

This will help to fix your wound, along with begin some of the repair work on… ah, other problems within your body, Gyre told me, his calm, professional voice faltering slightly at the end there. Problems with my body? What the hell did that mean? Whatever, I didn’t have time.

“Chazza,” I said, trying to smile at the larger man. “Yeah, I apparently just became a Samurai. My leg is broken, and I know you’ve just helped me a lot already, so you can absolutely say no, but I really need help keeping my bones lined up while this thing fixes them.”

“Fuck, mate,” the man said, shaking his head in wonder. Then he grinned. “Hell yeah, I’ll help. Let me get in position.”

He shifted to get a better angle on my leg, then grabbed my shin on both sides of the break. “Oh, this is fucked. I can feel the bone.”

“Yeah,” I winced, trying not to think of what was happening even while I rammed the nanite injector into my leg. Thank goodness that bandage had dulled the pain, because I never would have been able to do that without it.

I could feel an immediate change in my leg, although it started out subtle. A funny, itchy feeling coalesced in my wound, with some of it inching up to the rest of my body. Especially in my groin, actually, which I wasn’t happy about. It felt very strange.

Gyre’s satisfaction came through in the tone of his voice in my head. Good, this will get you up and functional soon.

Link to Chapter 3