Still, Spencer decided to quit the game. Something about the guy's voice got to him. He played another round in a different match and did a little better. Finally, his friend Deathdirge came online.
“About time,” said Spencer. “You ready for some Carnage?”
“You better believe it,” replied Deathdirge with his thick New Zealand accent.
Carnage involved ten two-man teams working against each other to grab the ‘package’ and extract it via the highest point on the map. It was one of the most challenging modes of the game since you had to work against the other teams, but also work together to stop whichever team was closest to winning. Enemies became allies until those same allies turned traitorous. There was only one person you could trust, your partner, and Deathdirge was an exceptional player. Together, they were almost unstoppable.
“How ya been, mate?” asked Deathdirge halfway through their first game. Their opponents in the first match were fairly new to the game and the duo was dominating. They could afford some casual conversation.
“Pretty good. Someone just took the package into the office building. Had a couple good games before you came on.”
“Oh yeah? Look out, there's a sniper on the scaffolding. What matches did ya play?”
Spencer filled him in on his latest scores and glories.
“Oh, you're not gonna believe this, but I played a game the other night after you left that was one of my best games yet,” bragged Deathdirge. “I had a kill streak of 42.”
“No way!” exclaimed Spencer.
“Yeah, it was awesome.”
“There's the package,” Spencer shouted, suddenly back in the game.
“Got it.”
“Get it out of here. I'll cover you.”
Ten seconds later, they won the match. Most of the other players quit so they wouldn't have to play another round against them.
“Fuckin' cunts,” decried Deathdirge. Spencer noticed he always called people cunts. Especially anyone who confused him for Australian. He hated that more than anything.
Spencer met Deathdirge late one weekend night during a game of Global War. Their skill levels were comparable and Spencer ended up playing until dawn. A week later, Spencer began Spring break and he was able to stay up late every night. The two bonded in fake blood and kill streaks.
Once school resumed, however, Spencer rarely saw Deathdirge. Because he lived on the other side of the world, they were rarely online at the same time. Spencer tried staying up late on weekends, but often fell asleep before Deathdirge came online. When they did play, Spencer suffered the following Monday mornings. That's when he decided to change his schedule. His parents didn't seem to mind as long as he finished his homework and kept his grades up.
They switched lobbies and found some more formidable opponents.
“Now this should be a challenge,” said Deathdirge, noting the rankings on the screen.
The game was intense, and Spencer barely managed to get the package across the border before the time limit ran out. Spencer's hands were sweaty. There was nothing better.
“Hey, good round,” offered Megawatt. Compliments were rare, but Spencer always appreciated when someone was graceful in defeat. However, it was followed by the more traditional fare.
“You kill-streak whores. I would've had you if you didn't have all those armor and ammo upgrades,” Vampiresuck moaned.
“I guess you'll just have to try harder, mate,” taunted Deathdirge.
“Or die less,” joked Spencer.
“I don't have time to play all day and night like you little fuckers. I actually have to work for a living.”
Deathdirge laughed then added, “Ahhh, what a whiny cunt.”
“Fuckers!” Vampiresuck added before quitting.
“Let's go to private chat,” suggested Deathdirge who sent the invite before he finished speaking. “I'm sick of these maggots.”
Deathdirge preferred private chat to the game lobbies, and Spencer never confessed his joy of listening to the old men whine. But he didn't mind when he was gaming with Deathdirge. It was the most fun he had playing.
“Man, that was a good game,” said Spencer.
“Yeah, it was pretty tight, wasn't it?”
They played two more games, winning one and losing the other, before Deathdirge suggested a bathroom break. They each took five minutes to stretch, relieve themselves, and grab another drink. When Deathdirge returned, Spencer asked, “Hey, tell me about your 42 kill streak.”
“Oh, it was so awesome. I was so close to 50, I couldn't believe it. Another few minutes and I woulda had it!”
“What happened? They finally kill you?”
“No, the stupid game ended. I was 58 and 8. Funny thing is, I started the game horribly. Died three times without a single kill. Then it just turned around and I hit my stride.”
“Damn. That's good.”
“Yeah, but I still haven't made it to the fabled fifty.”
“We'll get there.”
“Oh, I don't doubt it.”
Spencer's highest kill streak was 35. But every game he played, he played in the hopes of making it to 50, which was the ultimate enhancement — invulnerability! Usually a game was over by the time someone reached that high, but the accomplishment was getting there at all. Few had ever done it.
“By the way, did you vote today?” Deathdirge suddenly asked.
Spencer sighed wondering why Deathdirge even cared.
“Uh… no,” Spencer replied. Then he reluctantly added, “I'm only sixteen, remember.”
“Oh yeah, I completely forgot.” Deathdirge had commented in the past that Spencer always sounded mature for his age.
“Who do you think's gonna win?”
Ugh, this was not what Spencer wanted to talk about.
“I don't really care.”
“Really? It seems like a really big deal in your country.”
“I guess, but it just seems stupid to me.”
“What about your parents? You know who they voted for?”
“Barker.”
“Really? He seems like such a drongo, especially after he screwed up and caused the Caracas Catastrophe.”
“Who cares, let's just play.”
“Yeah, sorry, mate. Just curious. Seems like you can't turn on a computer without reading something about it, even over here.”
They played for an hour before taking another break. When they resumed, Deathdirge announced, “Hey, I just checked the news. Looks like this Hanley guy won it.”
“Oh,” was all Spencer had to say.
“Yeah, I was just reading some of his proposals. They sound quite radical. I hadn't really read much on that.”
“Yeah, that's what people were saying here.”
“Did you read about the new draft?”
“Yeah, I heard about it.”
“Are you worried?”
“Dude, it won't affect me. My parents make sure I have good grades so I'm guaranteed college acceptance.”
“I hope so. I read if elected, Hanley and his party plan on pushing through a lot of aggressive new legislation. They might even reduce the number of exemptions.”
“Well,” Spencer said, hoping to end the conversation, “I don't have to worry about it for another two years.”
“Good point,” Deathdirge agreed. “I certainly hope it's nothing you ever have to worry about though, because being drafted would suck!”
“I guess,” Spencer sighed, he tapped his foot impatiently. “You ready to launch?”
“I might have one more game in me, but I'll have to go after this one. I'm feeling a bit knackered.”
They ended up losing the next round and Deathdirge apologized for playing so poorly because he was tired. Spencer played two more games, then powered down the GS and jumped in the shower. He finished his homework and made breakfast all before anyone else was awake. When his father finally came downstairs, he seemed grumpy so Spencer stayed out of his way.