The sky turned red. It was the middle of the day, and Yeoman Smith was on his lunchbreak. He was sitting on a bench with a half-eaten burger in one hand, a briefcase resting on his lap. He had bought the burger from the old Hispanic lady on the street corner. She worked in one of those metal carts that could be attached to a car and towed away at a moment’s notice. The two people made eye contact, and Yeoman pointed at the sky. He was a bit too far for some casual conversation, and he didn’t want to shout. The old lady, however, had no problem with shouting. She leaned out of the window of her cart and waved at the sky with a gloved hand. “Do you see? Why is it red?”

Yeoman shook his head and shrugged. He wasn’t a meteorologist; he couldn’t even explain why the sky was normally blue. Asking him why it turned red was like asking a dog why its pee was yellow. Luckily, Yeoman wasn’t a dog, and his hand had working thumbs. He whipped out his phone and opened his news app. As it loaded, a furrow appeared on his forehead. The sky had turned red less than a minute ago. Was that enough time for it to appear on the news? A quick swipe and a few taps later, it became apparent there wasn’t any information about the red sky. A rumbling sound drew Yeoman’s attention, and he raised his head.

A bus came to a stop at the corner, behind the old lady’s cart. The people inside were peering out the windows, their eyes staring nonstop at the sky as if a naked lady were dancing atop some clouds. Yeoman looked up again, wondering if he missed anything. He hadn’t. His gaze shifted back down, and a chill ran down his spine. He wasn’t in New York anymore. Well, he might’ve been, but he certainly wasn’t in the city: The buildings had been replaced with trees. The bench he was sitting on had turned into a log. The bus he had seen just moments before had vanished, leaving its passengers on their feet. Not even a second later, questioning voices rose up all around him.

“Yo, what the hell?”

“Am I dreaming?”

“What the fucking fuck? This ain’t the bathroom.”

Soon, the questions were drowned out by even more questions, and Yeoman couldn’t make out a single coherent sentence. With the sudden change in environment, all his previous feelings of hunger went away. He put down his hand before realizing he wasn’t holding his burger anymore. His briefcase was gone, and he wasn’t wearing his business suit either; instead, he was wearing a brown t-shirt and brown shorts that went down to his knees. They seemed to be made of leather, and they didn’t have any pockets. Yeoman couldn’t help but wonder if he had just been pickpocketed by the greatest thief in existence. He hadn’t even felt a thing when his clothes were swapped out. Even his dress shoes had been replaced by leather sandals. Just what was going on?

Yeoman closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. With his eyes still closed, he used his right hand’s index and middle fingers to poke his left hand’s palm. When he was younger, he had read an article about lucid dreaming. According to that article, if his finger went through his palm, then he was dreaming. His fingers did not go through his palm. If he wasn’t dreaming, then was he really transported to a foreign location? Yeoman opened his eyes and slipped his hand against his pants, looking for the pocket that was no longer there. His phone was gone too, but he didn’t need to search his phone’s default search engine for answers. He knew exactly what had happened, and it wasn’t some weird fantasy-story plot he overheard someone say. This was the result of an alien abduction.

With that newfound knowledge, Yeoman took in another deep breath and looked around. If he wanted to survive this abduction, he needed to gauge the general situation. He was placed in a camp of sorts. There was a bonfire, some tents, and not so far away, there were a few log cabins. Behind the cabins, there was a wire fence which had been painted black. It circled the whole camp, which wasn’t very large—at a quick glance, there were around a hundred people, and that was enough to make the place seem cramped. For some reason, Yeoman recognized the place from somewhere, but how? He lived in the city for his whole life. The closest he had ever been to nature was when he tripped over a pigeon before crossing a street.

“Everybody, shut up! Look at your left wrist!”

One voice managed to cut over the rest of the others. Yeoman raised his arm as if he were checking his watch, which had been taken by the aliens. Underneath his skin, there seemed to be a faint screen there. A shudder ran down his spine, and he tapped on what he suspected to be an embedded alien tracking device. Black words appeared on his wrist like little worms wriggling into place.

[Main Mission: Survive for 7 days. 0/7]

[Reward: 500 Points]

[Bonus Mission: Kill ten infected. 0/10]

[Reward: 1,000 Points]

[Bonus Mission: Kill the smart infected. 0/1]

[Reward: 2,000 Points]

Even though the space on his wrist was limited, the words were very large but still managed to fit despite the letters being taller than the thickness of his wrist. It was as if that part of his skin led to a separate dimension, one where a 4k computer monitor was displayed. The technology to embed writing into his skin was amazing, but Yeoman found the contents of said writing to be even more amazing. Infected? Wasn’t that the name world-renowned author Virlyce had given to zombies in the book A Rational Zombie? The smart infected was clearly the main character of the book too!

Yeoman reread the words and reread them again. Was he really abducted by aliens and dropped into the plot of a famous novel? If so, then it’d explain why he recognized the place. Just the other week, he had watched the movie version of A Rational Zombie for Halloween. The camp he was in looked exactly like the setting from the Log Cabins; the first fortified camp the smart infected had attacked. Would the aliens follow the story’s plot? If that were the case, then—

“We have to put out the fire!” a man shouted. He was also dressed in a brown t-shirt and brown pants like everyone else. “Everybody, listen to me! Stay calm! My name is Gordan. I don’t know why or how we’re here, but I know where we are. We’re inside the plot of A Rational Zombie. In the story, the smart infected found its way to the camp because of the smoke coming from the bonfire. If we put the fire out, the infected won’t be able to find us.”

Yeoman frowned. As a biochemical engineer, it was his job to write reports for his boss, simplifying things into as few words as possible. A lot could be said with a few words. Many details didn’t need to be stated, only implied. To Yeoman, the mission prompts on his wrist was like a report handed in by his best lab assistant: written as simply as possible, yet containing an abundant amount of information. Survive for seven days, only four words yet the implications were huge. What was needed to survive for seven days? Water and sleep. Food wasn’t as important. Humans have survived for weeks without food, but the same couldn’t be said for water. Yeoman looked around; there wasn’t any water in sight.

The second and third mission required people to kill infected. The question was whether or not one person’s kill would count for the collective. If that were the case, it would be easy to convince everyone to work together. However, if it weren’t the case, then everyone here was a competitor. Yeoman had no idea what these points were for, but considering the fact these missions awarded them, it’d probably be better to have more than less. Also, the point rewards were different for each mission. It’d only make sense for more difficult missions to reward more points. Considering the difference in rewards, killing the smart infected was twice as hard as killing ten normal infected, and four times harder than surviving seven days.

“Great, great, we’re almost there!”

Yeoman turned his attention towards Gordan. A large number of people were standing around the bonfire. Two of them had shovels and were dumping dirt into the fire. A sigh escaped from Yeoman’s mouth, and he massaged his temples with his thumbs while closing his eyes, still sitting on the log—it was surprisingly comfortable. He couldn’t help but think back to all the times he had to listen to his moronic boss, someone who only received his position thanks to good ol’ fashion nepotism. His boss was a charismatic fellow, much like Gordan, but his brain was as smooth as his personality. It was unfortunate, really.

“What’s wrong?”

Yeoman raised his head and opened his eyes. The old lady from the street corner had sat next to him. Yeoman took another glance at the mob around the fire before shaking his head. “The mission says we have to survive for seven days, that includes nights,” he said and took a glance at the old lady’s wrist. She had the same missions. “Our clothes aren’t suited for the weather. If the fire goes out, we’ll freeze to death when the sun sets.”

The old lady’s eyes widened, and she clutched the sleeve of Yeoman’s t-shirt. “You’re not going to tell them?”

Yeoman shook his head. He wasn’t one for talking, and he doubted the mob would listen without a lengthy discussion. There were already people entering the log cabins. In a situation like this, he couldn’t even guarantee his own safety. He had to help himself before helping others, similar to all those airline videos telling parents to put their own masks on first in case of an emergency.

“Where are you going?”

The old lady was still clutching Yeoman’s sleeve. He gently pried her fingers off and after a moment of consideration, grabbed her hand before walking towards one of the open log cabins, bringing her with him. It was dark inside the cabin, but there were a few holes in the wall that let in light. Yeoman knocked on the door before entering, making sure there wasn’t an infected hiding in the shadows. It was his life he was talking about; there was no such thing as too safe. After confirming a lack of danger, Yeoman stepped inside. If the cabins were the same as those in A Rational Zombie, then they’d have metal bats, wooden spears, and bows and arrows. As expected, they were there, on top of the bed in the cabin along with two sets of clothes consisting of brown jackets and trousers. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

Yeoman picked up a set of clothes and handed it to the old lady. He put the second set on, but when he was done, a gray light flashed from his left wrist. The old lady didn’t have a reaction to it and was still struggling to put on her new pair of trousers over her shorts. Perhaps only he could see the light? Moments later, the old lady finished dressing herself and gasped while holding her left arm away from her head. Yeoman didn’t see any light, but apparently the old lady had. Yeoman glanced at his wrist; more words had appeared underneath the previous ones.

[Obtained Leather Jacket (Junk)]

[Leather Jacket (Junk): Made from a dead deer.]

[Obtained Leather Trousers (Junk)]

[Leather Trousers (Junk): Made from the above dead deer’s dead sister.]

Yeoman frowned at the two short descriptions before picking up a metal bat. A light flashed from his wrist, but unlike before, it was white instead of gray.

[Obtained Metal Bat (Common)]

[Metal Bat (Common): It’s big and hard—great for hitting baseballs, zombies, and people.]

As for the spear, bow, and arrows, Yeoman left them on the bed. He had never touched a bow in his life. It’d be better to leave them to someone with experience considering infected only died when their brains were damaged. Granted, he had never hit anyone with a metal bat before, but it’d probably take considerably less skill compared to shooting an arrow or stabbing someone with a spear. Propped against the side of the bed, there were two floppy leather flasks with a long leather loop attached to each of them. Yeoman picked one up and placed the loop against his neck, letting the flask rest against his hip. A white light flashed on his wrist.

[Obtained Water Flask (Common)]

[Water Flask (Common): Made from a dead deer’s baby. No worries, it’s clean.]

Yeoman ignored the item description and checked the remainder of the cabin. There was nothing of note other than the blanket on the bed. There wasn’t even a pillow. Yeoman frowned. There were two water flasks in the cabin. One was probably enough to last someone a week if they drank sparingly. There were only five cabins. If each one had two flasks, that was only enough water for ten people. There was another problem. In the book, there wasn’t a hundred people inside the camp when the smart infected invaded. Maybe the number of invading infected would increase as compensation.

“Hey, are you going to take that?”

Yeoman turned his head towards the entrance. An Asian man was standing there, pointing at the bow on the bed. Yeoman shook his head. “You can have it.”

“Thanks, dude,” the man said and stepped into the cabin. He took a glance behind himself before shutting the door, pulling down the latch. After making sure the door was locked, the man nodded at Yeoman and the old lady. “My name’s Cody.”

“Yeoman.”

Cody furrowed his brow. “Yo, man?”

Yeoman grunted. “Close enough.”

The old lady cleared her throat and looked at the two. “I’m Estrella, but you can call me Ella.”

“Hello, Ella,” Cody said. He glanced at Yeoman before shifting his gaze back to the old lady. “The two of you are…?”

“He’s my customer,” Ella said, placing her hand on Yeoman’s arm.

Cody raised an eyebrow before flashing a thumbs up and nodding twice. “Nice.”

Yeoman’s expression darkened. “I usually buy lunch at her cart.”

“Oh,” Cody said. “Oh! I’ve seen your cart before, on the corner by the bookstore, right?”

“That’s the one.”

Cody nodded. While he spoke, he gathered up the blanket on the bed. “My school’s really close. While we’re on that subject, why do you think we’re here?”

The old lady sighed. “It’s the end of the world. We are sinners left behind after the rapture.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Cody said. He managed to stuff the blanket into his shirt and shorts in such a way that it didn’t fall out while covering his back, arms, and legs. He looked like a turtle with a blanket for a shell. “What about you, Yeoman? You think that’s the case?”

Yeoman snorted. He didn’t believe in the Christian god. If such a benevolent god existed, why did he give Yeoman’s little sister, a girl who hadn’t even been alive for five years, terminal cancer? Why were people suffering throughout the world? Yeoman shook his head. “Aliens. They abducted us, and now we’re in some kind of experimental camp.” A furrow appeared on his brow. “Do you know how to use that?”

Cody donned the quiver, which was a leather pouch that hung a little beneath his stomach, and tested the bow by pulling the bowstrings back. “Yeah. I’m part of my school’s archery club.”

“Then this old lady will be taking this,” Ella said and grabbed the wooden spear. “I hope you don’t mind. Ah, I remember when I was growing up, we’d use to chase after the loner with brooms, jabbing and hitting them. Nowadays, that’s called bullying, and my granddaughter told me people don’t do that anymore.” She shook her head and sighed before looking around. The cabin was a lot darker since Cody had shut the door. “What do we do now?”

“Let’s leave the camp and kill infected,” Cody said. “Trust me. I’ve read a lot of web novels, and the situation we’re in resembles one a lot. Unless one of you wants to become the leader and get everyone outside to listen to you, you’re going to be a side character who dies off in a few chapters if you just follow Gordan.” Cody gestured with his hands, waving them wildly up and down. “The main character in web novels always succeed by seizing the initiative. We need these points; I bet we can buy some kickass stuff with them at the end of the seven days. Think about it; in the original plot, there were only seventy infected invading this camp. There’s no way anyone is completing the second bonus mission by staying in such a large group.”

Yeoman scratched his head. Cody did have a point, but…. “What if we’re in a horror movie instead of a web novel? Wouldn’t we be the first to die for splitting off? Not to mention, we have two minorities here. You know what happens to minorities in horror films, right? They die first.”

Cody nodded his head. “You got a point, but what horror film gives you points for killing zombies? None of them, but web novels do that all the time.”

Yeoman turned to Ella. As an old lady, she should have lots of wisdom. “What do you think?”

Ella let out a short laugh. “I’m almost eighty years old! I’m not afraid of dying. Let’s kill some zombies. Maybe this boy is right; maybe I can buy something nice for my granddaughter with these points.”