“You know what the best store is?” I said, turning away from the Progenitor Monolith and toward the rubbery blue dog waiting patiently behind me.
“Wait, give me a minute, I know this one,” Croc replied as though there was a right answer. “Is it a water park? I bet it’s a water park.”
“What? No,” I said, shaking my head. “It was a rhetorical question and, for the record, the answer is definitely not a water park. That’s not even a store.” I paused, eyes narrowed. “Though I’m genuinely curious about why that, of all things, was your go-to answer.”
Croc snorted and rolled his googly eyes. “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? Water parks are the best because they have so many slides. Me? I’m a big fan of slides. I used the one at the Burger Barn Play Palace and it changed my life. They’re just great, slides. Going down them. Climbing the stairs back to the top, the anticipation building with every step you take.
“I mean, I’ve never actually been to a water park myself, but I bet waterslides are a thousand times better than what they have at Burger Barn. Plus, on top of the slides, they have wave pools. Can you imagine? A pool that makes its own waves? Like a man-made ocean!” The mimic shimmered and transformed into a rubbery blue innertube with oversized googly eyes. “This is my wave pool form,” it said as a large gaping mouth split the side of the innertube.
It was horrifying. Nightmare inducing.
“Yeah, no,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean water parks are okay, I suppose—”
“Wait, does that mean you’ve personally been to a water park?” Croc asked, shifting back into its dog form. Its googly eyes fixated on me in a mixture of awe and adoration. “Like in real life?”
“I feel like most people have been to a water park at some point,” I replied.
“Not me,” Croc said, head dropping in abject misery. Then the mimic dog perked right back up. “Can you tell me what a real-life water park is like? Please?” Croc’s tail wagged frantically. “Every detail—I wouldn’t want to miss anything. Did they have food? How long were the lines? What was the highest slide you went on?”
“We’re getting off track here,” I said, waving away the dog’s onslaught of questions. “The answer to my original question is Walgreens.”
Croc frowned, his muzzle drooping. “Not sure I’ve ever been to a Walgreens. Based on their name alone, I assume they sell a variety of green walls, though I can’t imagine how that would be better than a water park.”
“No, they don’t sell green walls,” I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose in irritation. “It’s a convenience store, back where I’m from. But like a big one. Thing is, no one ever thinks much about Walgreens. They aren’t fancy or glamorous. Hell, the stuff they carry is the most basic, generic shit in the world. No one ever goes out of their way to visit Walgreens. But they’re everywhere, they’re always open, and they have a little bit of everything.
“Walgreens is the modern-day equivalent of an old west general store. They have food and beverages, car parts and beauty supplies. There’s a pharmacy in every location and an entire aisle of random, miscellaneous seasonal bullshit. It has more options than a gas station but is cheaper and smaller than a Target or a Walmart. It’s the ideal trading hub where a weary traveler can get anything they need. In short, it’s the perfect fucking store.”
Water was dribbling down from Croc’s googly eyes. The dog was openly crying. “It sounds like a truly magical place,” the mimic said breathlessly. “Still not as good as a water park, but a land of plenty all the same.”
“Oh, it is, Croc,” I said, nodding enthusiastically. “It is.”
“I should like to see such a place of abundance and whimsy one day.”
“You’re gonna see one sooner rather than later,” I replied, “because that’s where we’re headed.”
“Why?” Croc asked. “I mean, it sounds lovely, but why the sudden interest in finding one of these Walgreens? Usually, new Delvers want to find a way out—which there isn’t—or get to one of the Safe Harbors, which is dangerous but possible. In all the years I’ve been working with new Delvers, I’ve never had one ask to go to a Walgreens.”
I almost told the mimic that we needed to go there so I could plant the seed of a trading empire and undermine a malevolent deity who wanted me dead, then reluctantly decided against it. I would need to tell Croc about the Compass and my plans eventually, but now wasn’t the time. I trusted the dog. Mostly. But the Compass was powerful, and depending on Croc’s feelings about the Flayed Monarch, I could end up fighting for my life. That or Croc might abandon me on the spot, and I couldn’t afford that.
Better to play my cards close to the vest for the time being.
“We’ll go to a Safe Harbor, but there are some very specific supplies that I need first,” I lied, “and I’m sure that if we can find the Backrooms version of a Walgreens, I’ll be able to get what I’m looking for.”
“What sort of supplies?” Croc asked, nosy as ever.
I racked my brain trying to think of an answer. I hadn’t anticipated so many questions. “They have a bunch of stuff,” I finally blurted out, “but the thing that I need is a specific type of medication.”
Croc grew serious. “Are you sick, Dan? Please tell me you’re not sick. I’m really starting to like you and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for at least three weeks if you died.”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“It’s not life-threatening,” I assured the mimic, already regretting my deception.
Croc nodded sagely, then added, “Is it hemorrhoids? I bet it’s hemorrhoids.”
“What? No, it’s not hemorrhoids,” I shot back. “How do you even know what hemorrhoids are?”
“I had a Delver, about ten Delvers back, named Daryl. He went on and on and on about how bad his hemorrhoids were. Me, I’ve never had hemorrhoids, on account of the fact that I don’t technically have an anus, but Daryl made them sound exceedingly unpleasant. Both hemorrhoids and anuses, that is. In a rather dark and ironic twist of fate, Daryl was later eaten by the Ravenous Sand Sphincter who dwells in the desert playground on floor seven.”
I scowled at the dog. “I sincerely wish you hadn’t told me any of that. Also, for the record, it’s not hemorrhoids. Now, if you’re done prying needlessly into my private medical affairs, can we please get going? Also,” I added before the dog could answer, “if you agree to not ask any more follow-up questions and help me find what I’m looking for, I’ll tell you everything I know about water parks.”
Croc stared at me with equal parts wonder and joy burning in its eyes. “This,” the mimic finally said, “is the single best day of my life. One, I have a new friend. Two, that friend still has all of their body parts and doesn’t have hemorrhoids. And, three, that friend has been to a water park and is going to tell me about it. Dreams really do come true.”
Croc began to pace in slow circles. “But finding this mystical dream store of yours could prove to be a challenge,” it said. “Still, there’s never been a challenge I’ve failed at. Except for all of the times I’ve accidentally let Delvers die. This is different, though. I can feel it. Admittedly, I’ve never heard of Walgreens, but that’s not unusual. The Backrooms rarely replicates things exactly the way they are in the real world. It consumes lost matter, which is then pulled into the IPRS.”
“IPRS?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“The Influx Processing and Randomization System,” Croc said absentmindedly. “Please try to keep up, Dan, I really want to hear about those water parks. Now, after the physical matter is sorted into the IPRS, the God Box mashes it all together and generates new sections based on the Divine Algorithm, which is a process that no one quite understands. Except maybe the Researcher. He probably knows how it all—”
Croc froze, mid-step. “Wait! That’s the answer. The Researcher. You should’ve seen an option on the Monolith Keypad to access the Research Department Job Board, yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding along. “I saw it. How does that help us?”
“Simple,” Croc said. “The Job Board generates a list of all locations on any given level that have been corrupted by the Blight. If left unchecked, the Blight spreads like, well… peanut butter maybe? I don’t know. But something that spreads quickly.”
“The plague?” I offered.
“Yes, just like that!” Croc exclaimed. “The Blight is basically a plague. Or an infection, I suppose. The Researcher is the big boss and he’s in charge of keeping the Progenitor Vessel alive, but he’s the only Researcher left, so he can’t handle everything on his own. Which is why he generates the job board and then offers rewards to any Delver willing to purge one of the Blighted locations. The more dangerous the location, the better the loot. Thing is, the Researcher always leaves basic notes about the target, including its quadrant and sector location. I bet you could use the Job Board to find a store that fits your description.”
I grunted, impressed.
For as dopey as Croc looked, the mimic was chock-full of surprisingly good ideas and useful information. I wanted to hear more about the Researcher and how he fit into the bigger picture, but that was a distant concern. Right now, the mission priority was finding safety, shelter, and a way to survive for the next few days and weeks.
I sauntered back over to the Monolith and fired it up once more, quickly scanning my palm, then using the keypad to toggle over to the menu section labeled Research Department Job Board. I selected the option, and it immediately conjured an enormous list of blight-infected stores, each with a star rating. There were hundreds of them. VHS Vault, Totally Rad Toys, Price Pro Plus, Far Out Fashion, Mythic Mementos, Nourish ’n’ Go, The Paw Palace. I used the arrow on the number pad to scroll down, then randomly clicked on one of the store names.
The familiar burnt yellow pop-up appeared above the Monolith.
BigSavers R US
Threat Assessment Rating: ۞
Current Relative Position: 3.28.17.37-54 (Floor 3, Quadrant 28, Sector 17, Relative Sector Coordinates 37-54)
BigSavers R US is like every generic big-box retail store you’ve ever been to. It’s got cheaply manufactured home electronics, shitty furniture built from particle board that you are 100% going to have to assemble yourself, and all the other dubious household “essentials” that no one needs, but everyone seems to have.
There’s an entire section of just panini makers.
BigSavers R US offers “deeply discounted” prices, which are sustained by a perpetual Going Out of Business Sale—cough, cough fictitious pricing models—and the bloodthirsty sales team is overseen by the Blight-infected Bargain Beast. With razor-sharp claws and a borderline sexual desire for savings, the Bargain Beast will make sure shoppers pay an arm and a leg for encroaching on its territory.
Reward: 500 Experience Points, 5 x Copper Delver Loot Token, 1 x Silver Mercenary Loot Token
Accept Job Posting? Yes/No
I hit no, but I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face. This was exactly what I needed. I closed the description and turned my attention back to the Job Board list, scrolling faster and faster until I found another store that sounded promising.
MediocreMart
Threat Assessment Rating: ۞۞
Current Relative Position: 3.28.17.64-13 (Floor 3, Quadrant 28, Sector 17)
You’ve been inside this place a thousand times, but never actually by choice. Usually, you’re begrudgingly driven there against your will by one minor emergency or another. Your kid is sick, but it’s 10:48 PM on Christmas Eve, so where the fuck else are you going to go? They have food. Is it good food? No. It’s stale bread, frozen hot pockets, and leathery beef jerky, but you’ll eat it, and you’ll like it. You can pick up diapers here or motor oil or a pair of “As Seen on TV” copper-lined compression socks that will do wonders for your terrible circulation.
It’s all garbage, but you can’t help yourself. YOU WILL BUY IT!
And, of course, there’s the pharmacy. It’s only open for four and a half minutes every other Tuesday, but that’s on you for choosing to shop here. You could go to so many other places, but no… This is where you have your prescriptions sent, you rube. And there, hunched behind the service counter, is the Blight-infested Harmacist. Clad in a tattered lab coat and wielding dirty syringes, the Harmacist revels in corrupting the flesh and providing drugs that fall outside of your insurance coverage.
Reward: 1,250 Experience Points, 5 x Copper Delver Loot Token, 2 x Silver Delver Loot Token, 1 x Gold Mercenary Loot Token
Accept Job Posting? Yes/No
Jackpot.