Water splashed over Rafael as he pushed himself. A half hour into his workout, and he focused on being faster. Nothing else mattered. Pushing himself kept him in the present, and never in the past.
His palm touched the pool’s edge when he noticed two figures standing on the other side of the gate. It was an outside pool, so anyone could see, but it was early morning, so he didn’t expect anyone. In fact, he asked the city pool to come in when no one else would be here because it helped clear his head. The only person who visited was his girlfriend Hazel, and he was fine with that.
Rafael lifted his goggles from his brown eyes to make sure he didn’t hallucinate Derek and Nick standing there. It was so odd he stared for a while, his heart hammering. Neither of them looked thrilled to be visiting. Rafael sighed, then climbed out of the pool. He had an idea why they were here, but he wouldn’t volunteer that information unless someone else gave it. Nick glared at him with anger and annoyance instead of outright murder; so it might be about something else.
While walking over to the gate, he wrapped his towel around his waist. He finished as he got to the gate and folded his arms to show he wouldn’t open it. “I have special permission to be here. If I let you in, I’ll get in trouble.”
“Hello to you, too.” The anger and annoyance from Nick’s eyes headed straight for his voice, too.
After years of not seeing each other, it was strange to be reminded that he was still the shortest of the three. It hadn’t bothered him before, but Nick towered over him. Derek had a few inches, but it was enough. It was easier to ignore Nick as he turned toward Derek, talking through the gate. “What’s… going on?” It was then that he noticed Evelyn and Alejandra by the car. Alejandra waved at him, and Evelyn stared at her phone, not looking at him. His already pounding heart leapt to his throat.
“We need to talk,” Derek said.
How long could a heart pound in his throat before nausea threated to vomit it out? Evelyn was here. This could be about what happened.
“Fine. Talk.” Keeping his cool, he turned and headed toward the bench with his other towels and grabbed the towel.
There was more anger in Nick’s glare than annoyance. “You’re seriously not going to let us in?”
Rafael grabbed a smaller towel and tried to dry his hair. “We might all get in trouble, and god knows you don’t need another thing on your record.”
The annoyance fled Nick’s eyes, and pure anger burned as he strangled the gate bars that kept them out. Good. Let Nick storm off so he didn’t have to talk. Let them all leave.
Derek cleared his throat. “So you don’t see him?”
There was an obvious tremor in Rafael’s hand that he tried to hide as he dried his hair. He continued to ignore Nick’s seething as he talked to Derek. “What are you talking about?”
Nick glanced at Derek’s knees, no doubt afraid the full blast of his glare would terrify Derek. “I knew it wouldn’t work. He hasn’t played in years.”
“He’s got to see him. The people who created the characters are the only ones who can control them. He hasn’t given you dice.”
“Neither has Grizzizzik.”
Were they talking about CCNC? What was wrong with them? Either way, it meant it wasn’t about Evelyn, and he forced the nausea to disappear. He put the smaller towel he used to dry his hair around his neck. “Are you guys okay?”
Derek moved his arm inside the gate to point at the air next to him. “Concentrate. Right here. Do you remember creating Ezekiel?”
“Why are we talking about this?”
“Concentrate. Please.”
“Look, guys, I just…” Rafael rubbed his towel into his hair again. “I’m not interested in playing. I’m super busy with my job, school, and football. It was fun while we were children, but we’ve got to grow up.” Those words would hurt, especially Derek, but Rafael crafted them to make sure his old friends hated him enough to stay away from him. It was easier.
Nick’s face hardened. “As much as we’d love to leave you alone, a bigger problem has portaled into our lives.”
The nausea did not disappear like he thought. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Our CCNC characters came out of the game, including yours.” Derek again pointed to the air next to him.
Rafael stared at Derek, then at Nick. It was the most ludicrous thing he’d ever heard of. “You guys need to lay off the CCNC. You’re starting to—”
“It’s clear he can’t see you,” Nick said to the air next to Derek. “If you want to survive long enough to get home, give me your dice.” Rafael stared at Nick, concerned for his sanity. Nick shook his head, his lips tight. “Rafael doesn’t care. He hasn’t for years. Hand me the dice and we can leave.” There was a pause, one long enough for Rafael’s face to morph to horror. Nick had lost it. His eyes hardened as he looked at the air next to him. “Shut up, Grizzizzik.”
Rafael’s bare feet padded toward the pool’s edge. “Alright, um… I’m going to keep doing my laps. It was… interesting to see you all. But… but I can’t…” Curly blonde hair popped next to Derek on the other side of the gate. “I… can’t…”
The face formed soon after. Rafael froze, the nausea turning into horror. The man met his gaze and his eyes brightened. “You do see me now!”
The hinge keeping Rafael’s jaw in place no longer worked. He did nothing more than stare, his eyes growing wider. Nick looked back at the man, then noticed Rafael’s line of sight before rolling his eyes. A man appearing was enough of a shock. He wore modern jeans and a T-shirt, but everything else was instantly familiar. Rafael’s bones quaked before righting themselves again, and Ezekiel’s shoulders relaxed.
Memories played before him. He remembered the time and energy he poured into making Ezekiel when he was twelve years old. Remembered why he had made him a blonde-haired Caucasian. At twelve, Rafael thought twenty-four was old, and he needed an older white male to be good. Almost pure. Because his Caucasian father certainly wasn’t.
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The tremble in his hands was impossible to miss now, so he shoved them into his short, dark brown hair. He did not need this.
Ezekiel Watson smiled brighter and pulled something out of his… back? It was so strange Rafael dropped his hands and scuttled further from the fence. The cleric held up a red bag to him, even though he was a few dozen feet away.
“You created me. As such, this is your burden to carry.”
Rafael gave a passing glance at the dice bag. “No, thanks.” He turned around, gathered his locker keys, and headed for the changing room.
The gate clanged as Derek pressed against it. “Rafael!”
Nick attempted to snatch the bag from Ezekiel’s hands. Somehow, his palm went through it.
“Whatever this is, whatever you did, it’s not my responsibility to solve.” Rafael checked his key for the locker number. “Senior year starts Monday. Football practice has already started. I have my double shift at the grocery store today, and college applications to prepare for.”
After a few tries, Nick gave up stealing the bag and held his palm out instead. “Give it to me.”
Rafael rolled his eyes and almost entered the locker room.
“Wait!” There was a certain amount of desperation in Derek’s voice that caused Rafael to pause. He kept his back to them to keep his facial expression private. “Dude, believe us. We want to leave you alone. Nick bitched about it the whole way here. But Ezekiel is insistent. It can only be you. They want to get back home, and everyone needs to help.”
Various amounts of phrases came to Rafael, all essentially telling them to take a hike, when Alejandra screamed. Every muscle in his body tightened as he spun around, seeing the girls by the vehicles.
“Oh shit,” Derek said.
“Are those….” Nick trailed off, eyes wide.
Snorting and shrieking were the first things he’d heard. Then four zombies materialized like they had always been there, shuffling toward his sister and Evelyn. The stench of rotting flesh collided with his nostrils, and the morning heat did not help.
“Milo, go!” Derek said.
Rafael wondered what Derek was talking about until he saw a lanky character with suspenders sprint toward the car. Rafael’s jaw was hanging open, so he closed it. Spurred on by the need to protect his sister, he dropped everything but the gate key and darted toward the door. He rammed it into the lock, jiggling it enough to make it open before leaving it there, and sprinted toward Alejandra. His fingers curled into a fist as he approached the nearest zombie and punched its head. His fist sailed through the zombie’s head like it was a hologram.
“What the hell is happening?” Rafael asked.
Alejandra grabbed his arm. “You can’t touch them! Only they can!”
The zombie lunged toward him, rotten jaw agape. If Rafael couldn’t hurt it, then it couldn’t hurt him back, but a primal instinct screamed at him to get the hell away. The stench was unbearable as rotten teeth slammed down on Rafael’s neck. Nothing happened, except the rotten teeth cracked as they snapped together.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Rafael kept muttering, backing away.
“I just finished rolling for initiative!” Derek shouted at everyone. “We’re playing this game in real life! If you don’t roll for your characters now, the zombies will eat them!”
Ezekiel appeared next to him, holding the bag, worry clear in his eye. “Please. I know you don’t want to do this, but help me protect my friends now.”
Everyone’s characters materialized around them. Rafael stared, wide eyed, at the half-orc near Alejandra watching the zombies like a general on the verge of battle. The snake man Nick was screaming at to hand over the dice. The weakened but gorgeous wood elf in the back of a modern-day car. They all had various green numbers above their heads. Rafael glanced at Alejandra, who knelt on the ground, rolling her dice, reading something no one else could see. A zombie leapt onto Hraktar, biting his arm as the half-orc bellowed. Alejandra whimpered, dice tumbling out of her shaking palm. Despite being a figment of her imagination, Rafael knew how much Hraktar meant to her.
Rafael snatched the bag from Ezekiel’s hand. He didn’t stop to think. He didn’t have time to do that with his life, anyway. Words flickered into his vision that shouldn’t be there.
Start from scratch, or auto build from previous character sheet?
“Build from previous character sheet,” Rafael said out loud. The faster he could do this, the faster Ezekiel could protect the others.
An entire character sheet filled his vision, causing him to back away. Ezekiel patted himself to find his armor and clothes beneath the modern ones.
“Boom! Eight damage points coming your way!” Derek said.
A crossbow bolt slammed into the shoulder of the zombie biting Hraktar’s arm. The zombie dislodged and spun, noticing Milo. More importantly, noticed the mana fusor was easy pickings and began lumbering toward him.
“Everyone hurry! Mana fusors are squishy at level one!” Derek said.
Roll for character.
Rafael’s chest constricted. He forgot how to do this. What dice did he need to roll? He picked all seven dice up and dropped them. Only the d6’s number floated to the top.
Roll again.
Things came back to him. He needed to roll this dice a lot. His vision swam as numbers combined themselves to form bigger numbers. It was dizzying.
Another zombie lumbered toward Milo, his jaw unhinged, and reached out with a skeletal hand. He leapt onto Milo, teeth diving into the elbow. Milo grunted, trying to get the zombie off him.
Rafael lost count of how many times he rolled, but he kept going, waiting for the weird words to tell him to stop.
A zombie leapt onto the car as Rafael flinched at the sound. The creature snarled at the druid inside. Clarissa jumped before shrinking from the zombie. It was uncharacteristically Clarissa. From what he remembered, she never shrank from a fight.
Six numbers filled Rafael’s vision when boxes appeared. Hraktar stood up, dropping the robe he wore to show some chain mail armor. The half orc pulled out his great sword as the Zombies attacked Milo again. One of them missed, but the other was still latched onto Milo, scratching him across the chest. The mana fusor looked rough.
Choose the numbers for your abilities. Suggestions will be highlighted.
“Ugh, come on!” Character sheets took forever to create.
Rafael mentally shoved numbers into the highlighted box. He didn’t wait to see the modifiers. With a sigh, he waited for the dice to roll for battle.
Until questions popped up about choosing different proficiencies. He didn’t remember making all these decisions.
Milo attempted to stab the zombie attached to him, but he missed, groaning.
“Would you guys hurry!” Derek shouted.
“I’m trying!” Nick said. He wrestled the bag from Grizzizzik, giving his anger glare to his character. Rafael’s heart rate skyrocketed as he chose History proficiency.
Three of the four zombies surrounded the mana fusor. One of them tried to bite him, but Milo dodged it by shuffling back in pure exhaustion.
“Nobody use magic unless absolutely necessary! Save your mana for cure wounds!” Derek shouted. “Milo cast a spell last night, and his mana hasn’t returned!”
Ezekiel gripped his bow, studying Rafael. He understood his character’s concern. From the story he remembered, Milo was Ezekiel’s longest friend and far more street smart.
“No!” Alejandra said. Her outburst became clear. Hraktar moved to chop off a zombie’s head when he tripped, his great sword clattering a few feet away. “Nat ones are the worst!”
How many more questions could this thing possibly have?
Ezekiel watched his best friend get pummeled by zombies, his face falling as his gaze bounced between him and Rafael.
“I’m trying to go as fast as possible. I’m sorry,” Rafael said.
“It’s alright.” Ezekiel pulled out an arrow, nocking it. “I sense it. It’s coming.”
Rafael noticed a number above Ezekiel’s head as he mentally chose the religion proficiency. It asked if he wanted to prepare his spells now, but he ignored it. He didn’t have time for spells. Derek said they shouldn’t use them, anyway. Maybe this would come back to haunt him, but Milo still had three zombies on him.
An extra set of words floated in his vision as a d20 floated in front of him.
Roll for initiative.