Neal came out to thunderous applause. Derek was on his feet with Tyler, shouting and hollering. Tyler was mostly over his hangover, though Derek noticed him still wincing and covering his ears.
Derek didn’t know what he expected. He’d seen plenty of pictures of Neal. The guy was at least sixty. The guy kept himself well, no doubt being the owner of a game system that was worth a billion dollars at least. He smiled, waving at the enormous crowd.
The panel was excellent, and Derek had a good feeling about asking the founder questions. Neal couldn’t sell a game if he was crabby or rude.
Derek, Evelyn, and Tyler purposefully sat in the back in order to slip away the moment the panel was done. Tyler wanted to attend it to see if there were any clues to their predicament, though Derek wondered if it was mostly because this was the founder of CCNC.
The last ten minutes were for questions. The line of people wanting to ask a question was too long. Besides, Derek doubted Neal would appreciate being asked about portals and such in front of thousands of people.
“How did you come up with this game?” a man asked, mostly sounding in awe.
“Good question. Honestly, it’s hard to pinpoint where inspiration hit, but once I got the dice mechanics down, the rest of it kept coming. And, of course, I was obsessed with Tolkien as a child.”
“Alright, that is all the time we have,” the moderator said.
That was all Derek needed. He, Tyler, and Evelyn shot out of the back of the room and headed toward the main area, getting in line. It was already long, some people starting the line as soon as the convention opened this morning.
“It’ll be good.” Derek glanced behind him as the line grew. “Three hours is my guess.”
“Yeah.” Tyler took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt collar. He then brought out a small notebook from his back pocket and started flipping through the pages. “Gives me time to word this question perfectly.”
Evelyn had The Cost of Mana out, which meant she would be preoccupied for a while. Derek leaned over, smiled at the group of people behind him, and nodded toward one of their homemade shields.
“Nice. Not many people are brave enough to put the symbol of the Eovo on their shield.”
The guy looked at his shield, then gave an impish grin. “You know the God Eovo?”
Derek scoffed. “God of Tricks? Mischief? And lemons?”
The guy narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. “And what do you think about lemons being lumped in with the God of tricks and mischief?”
“Makes perfect sense.” Derek understood the allegiance this question posed. There were two lemon camps for Eovo. The wrong one and the right one. Derek was proudly in the right one. “When life gives you lemons, after all. Why wouldn’t lemons be with the god of mischief?”
The guy held up his hand, and Derek shook it. “You are on the right side of the lemon war.”
“Glad to find another fellow soldier,” Derek said.
It was incredibly easy to make friends at CCNC con. They filled the two and a half hours with discussions of lore and mana. After Tyler finished making sure his question was how he wanted, he joined Derek as they talked with the group behind him. Even Evelyn started closing the book and visited. She rarely dipped into CCNC, but she had fun while playing it. And not just because she was a cheerleader. Something Derek couldn’t help but notice she kept to herself while talking with the guys. She was still guarded. The gaze she gave him was at times curious, at times hiding a hurt he knew she felt.
Neal was within sight. Tyler got nervous, going back to his question notebook. Derek did that thing where he was talking faster and slipping some Spanish words on accident.
“Alright, one question each,” the volunteer worker said as she waved them forward.
Derek faced forward, folding his arms and feeling a sickening in his stomach. One of nerves, and the feeling of free falling into the unknown. Neal finished talking with some other fans when Derek, Tyler, and Evelyn moved forward.
Neal turned his gaze on them, a beaming smile on his face. “Hello!” He took Derek’s dice case, giving it a quick sign. “Do you have a question for me?”
“Uh, yeah.” Tyler glanced at his notebook before looking at Neal. “Our characters have come out of the game and a bunch of CCNC monsters are running amok in our town with more coming every day. What should we do about that?”
Neal snorted, glancing up long enough to give Tyler a good look before focusing back down on signing the small poster. “Hilarious.”
Tyler waited as Neal finished his flourish before handing it back. “No, sir… I’m serious. We’re from Elmwood, Arizona. No one else can see the monsters, only our characters and us.”
“They’re the only ones who can fight them, too,” Derek said. “We don’t know what we’re doing. We need help returning them to the Shrouded Domain.”
Neal chuckled, focusing on the posters again. “Did Reggie send you? Man, that jokester’s always been sending people like you to dredge up rumors. One last joke from him before he kicks the bucket.”
“Please, sir, I’d teleport my elf druid to prove it, but it’s outside the protective bubb-”
Neal kept his eyes focused on a poster he was signing as he raised a hand. Evelyn stopped talking. “This has been a very fun blast from the past, no doubt, but I assure you that there is no way—at all—that this game is some sort of demonic ritual that brings characters out of the—” Neal stopped, his pen sliding across Tyler’s final poster. Derek and Tyler glanced at each other before focusing on Neal. “Shi—” Neal started out loud, then dropped in volume as he dropped his pen, covering his face as he kept elongating the word. Derek didn’t know what else to do but stand there, waiting for Neal. “—it.” The ‘T’ was pronounced, with some finality to it.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
It was a long beat before Neal finally dropped his hands, folding them in front of him as he looked at the three of them. “So, um…” He rolled his head around his neck, popping it. “I… must apologize. I was…” Neal groaned again, then glanced at the clock. “Do you know the bar across the street?”
“Um, yes,” Tyler said.
“Alright. I’ll be here for another two hours, but I’ll plan on meeting you there right before my dinner break. It should help me remember more, too.”
“Okay, um…” Tyler gestured toward him, Derek, and Evelyn. “None of us are old enough to drink.”
“Legally,” Derek muttered, prompting an elbow to the side from Tyler.
Neal must not have noticed the movement, mostly staring at Tyler with horror. “You’re kids?”
“I’m…twenty,” Tyler said, sounding defeated at how young he sounded.
“Seventeen,” Derek said.
Evelyn gave a pathetic wave. “Fifteen. Sixteen on November first.” Like that would help.
There was so much going on in Neal’s head, even as every muscle on his face froze in horror. “That wasn’t…” Neal again covered his face. “Goddammit.” He reached inside and pulled out a small notebook and a map of the conference center. “Alright. Um… I’ll still be done here in two hours.” He rubbed his forehead, glancing at the map. “Meet me in room 126C. It should be below this hall. It’s not being used.” He wrote the number down, tearing it out of the little notebook as he looked at the long line of people still wanting to meet him. Derek noticed a weight fall on Neal’s shoulders. “Do me a favor. When we talk…” Neal glanced back at them, a sadness entering there. “Try not to get your hopes too high.”
***
Nick had his notebook out, jotting down the names of different places he could rent in town. He spent way too long looking at apartments before checking the actual monthly rent prices. In the end, he hit the search function that caused the lowest prices to appear first. He’d have to check these places out personally to make sure they weren’t in a rough part of town. Did Elmwood have a rough part of town? He realized how ridiculous that sounded, considering who he hung out with when he was fourteen. The thing was, Anthony and Eddy spent little time in Elmwood. It was always in other towns.
He skipped the first and second rental apartment. He had to, out of dignity. Nick couldn’t possibly be that desperate, even though he was.
He started writing the third, then the fourth. On the fifth, he hesitated. Morgan Estates. He looked up again at the site and clicked back on the website. Morgan Estates in Elmwood. Did that have anything to do with his boss, Mr. Morgan?
The pencil tapped against paper as he scrolled through the Morgan Estates website. He figured they took pictures of the nicest one, or when it was recently built. They couldn’t possibly be that nice for the monthly price they’re asking.
“Alright, you’re done with Evelyn’s laptop,” Walt said.
Nick jumped. He didn’t realize Walt entered his room, let alone was close enough to shut the laptop and take it from his desk. Nick spun around, glaring. “Seriously?”
“You’re being punished, Nick. Don’t forget that.”
Nick hated this. His anger rose. He would have been fine, but he was right in the middle of figuring out who owned those apartments. “I did all the chores you asked me. Don’t you want me out of here as much as I do?”
“Not if you’re going to find ways around my punishment to still do things you’re not allowed to.”
“Like what? Use Evelyn’s laptop? Use technology? Have any semblance of a social life?”
Walt placed the laptop under his arm. “You know why I can’t trust you with this. You’ve made some horrible choices in your life.”
“That was three years ago!” Nick shouted.
Walt’s eye twitched. “I’m talking about two weeks ago! You punched Rafael in the face! You broke his nose. You cracked his ribs.”
Anger burned on the sides of his face. “He deserved so much more.”
Walt headed toward the door. “You will not touch him again. Are we clear?”
Nick should have let it go. Walt was on the way out of the room, and he needed to see as little of his father as possible to make it through today, but he was hurt and angry. “That son of a bitch hurt my sister. I made myself perfectly clear about how I felt about it.”
“Not with violence. Not a son who lives under my roof.” Walt lifted a finger. “I know this hurt your sister. Evelyn has been doing excellent in therapy. She will come out of this stronger than before. Rafael made a mistake, and he’s proven he won’t do it again.”
Nick’s jaw dropped. The anger flared to a fever point. Something inside his brain broke as he was transported through the years, picking out moments that hurt the worst. Moments where Walt sighed and said how proud Jack must be to have a son like Rafael. The moment Nick knew he could never measure up to his friend. Who always had Walt’s attention once he stepped through the door. The memories that made Nick secretly happy Rafael no longer came to his house. The deep pain that he could never receive the same treatment as someone who was once his friend.
It still applied. Rafael, that son of a bitch, was getting Walt’s forgiveness while he would never get it. “Are you serious!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Walt asked.
“You’re forgiving that pervert, but you don’t forgive me? You’re going to let Rafael off the hook for this! But you hang my mistake over my head for years?”
“Rafael is a good k—”
The level of frustration and hurt he experienced was dangerously high. It was at such a level that he was bound to do the unthinkable. Which he did. Nick picked up his math textbook and chucked it at Walt’s face. His father barely dodged it as the book clattered against the wall, and everything in Nick froze. Walt held up a hand as he stared at Nick, mostly surprised with a trickle of fear. Nick remained motionless, except for his chest rapidly rising and falling with his breath. They stayed that way for perhaps five seconds, but it stretched to an eternity.
Walt had his hand up, but balled it into a fist, glaring at Nick. “You lift another thing against me, I will call the police on you. You cannot treat me like this.”
Nick said nothing, glaring at his father, doing his best not to show the horror he felt at what he’d done. That was a bad move. More than a bad move. That was a ‘holy-shit-that-was-stupid’ kind of idea. Maybe not up there with stepping inside a car with a drunk Eddie ready to vandalize cars and tear up a town, but uncomfortably close. And the thing that made him the most scared was he only felt a tiny bit bad about it.
Walt grabbed the door and closed it. The house was silent as Nick leaned against the wall, covering his mouth to keep his breathing under control. There was no one else but him and Walt in this house.
That was stupid. Walt wouldn’t hesitate to call the police on him, but Nick was so dangerously angry. A tiny part of him wondered if he would feel any sort of relief if he’d actually hit him.
The door opened, and a spike of panic hit him before Grizzizzik walked in with Nick’s textbook. There was a grim look on his rogue’s face as he set the textbook on the bed. “Kinda makes you want to slit his throat. Doesn’t it?”
The tips of Nick’s fingers turned icy, his knees trembling. He kept leaning against the wall, shaking his head. “I… wouldn’t. I’m not like you.”
“Right,” Grizzizzik said. “You just created me. That’s all.” His rogue approached, studying Nick’s face. “I see so much of my anger in you. So much of the need for justice. All in the early stages. You could be great, you know. Give it up. That binding idea of right and wrong. This will not save you. Embrace the need to do it yourself. To take matters into your own hands. The pantheon of deities are far too busy to actually care about people like us. We need to do this ourselves.”
Nick couldn’t look at Grizzizzik. It hurt him too much. He always made his rogue to be an exaggeration, but the more he talked, the less exaggerated it sounded.
Which was also quite stupid. His mind was muddied enough, though, that his thoughts lingered on Grizzizzik’s ideas. And for that reason alone, he realized how bad of a state he was in.
Nick covered his forehead with his hand. “Get out. Please.”
The rogue shrugged before heading out of the room again. Nick closed his eyes and sank to the floor. He clamped his hand over his mouth and gave the quietest sob his body could produce.