Speed Run (a X33N and Alien: Isolation fanfiction)

Chapter 5

The song for this chapter is AC/DC's "Thunderstruck".

"Any luck with countering that virus yet?" I asked Meza. We'd been checking in frequently, waiting for the okay to exit the game. In the meantime, Gwen and I had worked our way to the end of Mission #8 and were taking a breather in the Marshal's office. Even with dodging the Alien successfully, I got choked by a synthetic once, and Gwen still had a slight limp. We were both a little singed from the explosion and subsequent fire in Mission #6. Needless to say, we'd gone through a few more medkits. Both of our health bars were sitting at ¾ now.

"I'm starting to make some headway, but it'll be a while yet," Meza told me. "And Devon's been trying to track down the back door and ip the hacker used."

"Any idea why they hacked the VR in the first place?" I asked from my seat on a desk.

Gwen sighed in her chair, turning her newly acquired cutting torch in her hands. "The day before our big reveal? My bet is sabotage by one of our competitors."

"I'd take that bet," Devon chimed in. "And no offense to Gwen, but she hasn't made herself a lot of friends in the industry. Not the easiest person to work with..." He added under his breath. "Someone may be looking to hurt or discredit her in particular."

"Is that really enough reason to kill us though?" I asked, a little curious what Devon meant. I absently rubbed at my throat while talking. It was still tender, and my voice came out a bit strained.

Gwen swatted my hand away from the growing bruise on my neck, and I stuck my tongue out at her. "Apparently," She said with an eye roll directed at me. I waggled my eyebrows in response. That was too much for her. I grinned triumphantly as she laughed.

"Well, Gwen, shall we continue? Time's a-wasting!" I said, sliding off the desk to stand. "Mission #9 is a literal walk in the park. You don't have to worry about any homicidal robots or hungry Aliens on this one, promise."

Gwen shot me a skeptical look before rising and clipping the cutting torch onto her utility belt with practiced ease. It occurred to me that she must use one quite a bit in her own workshop. I wondered if such a tool was responsible for the wrinkled scar I'd spotted on her forearm earlier. She'd covered the old burn when she saw me looking, clearly self-conscious of it. I'd made a point of ignoring it since then.

We walked to where Meza's chicken was patiently waiting for us by Marlow's cell. I glared at the pristine rooster, annoyed that it had somehow come out of Mission #6 without a single feather burned or broken. I was tempted to test the stun baton clipped onto my belt, but decided against it. The bird still had a purpose.

I barely paid attention as Gwen spoke to the imprisoned salvage worker. As player 1, Gwen took lead on all of the NPC interactions and cut scenes. I had most of the lines memorized by now anyways and entertained myself muttering the lines a second before the characters spoke.

I looked around the room, noting again the subtle increase in detail from the original. The only exception to this was the forlorn save terminal against one wall. No one was sure why, but the virus had attacked those as well. That section of wall looked pixelated and flickered occasionally. We stayed as far away from the corrupted area as possible to be safe, but knowing that we couldn't save was more unnerving to me than the actual world damage.

The loading screen flashed in front of me, blocking out my view of the Marshal's office. When it vanished, we were in space suits standing in the cargo bay of a salvage ship. The stale smell of recycled air and old sweat sat heavy in my helmet, and I wrinkled my nose in distaste. I distracted myself by figuring out which suit belonged to Gwen. Just look for the one who walks like they've never worn a space suit before. At least the chicken hadn't followed us on this mission. There was no reason for it to come when there was no danger.