Colt and Lacey didn’t stop until they reached the church, Lacey’s muscles protesting in a way that reminded her that she’d recently overused them. Colt’s tie hung over his shoulder as they skidded to a stop at the church. Would her muscles hurt like that if she hadn’t done stadiums in a dungeon the night before? They hadn’t stayed all that late at his parents’ house, but no one was at the church as they peered in under their hands through the glass doors.
“Did the coupon say how long the home visit was supposed to last?” Lacey asked Colt.
“No,” he shook his head, knocking on the door in case anyone was in the building. “It just said one free home visit.”
“Should we go home?” she turned to put her back to the door so she would stop staring down an empty hallway that led to the storeroom they’d come out of earlier.
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Colt glared through the glass.
“I mean back to the shitty apartment,” Lacey reached for a phone that wasn’t in her purse. She’d only wanted to check the time for the bus schedule.
“All our clothes are in the dungeon,” Colt reminded her. “Doesn’t that mean that we moved out of our shitty apartment?”
A lone pickup truck pulled into the parking lot, sputtering like the engine wasn’t sure it wanted to go any further. Lacey watched it, her eyes narrowing. Colt turned to glance at it, but then went back to staring into the church. A burly man on the plump side climbed out of the truck. He had a Santa Claus kind of smile, and a two-day beard.
“You two need some help?” he asked, the door to the old truck slamming shut like a garbage truck.
“No,” Colt turned to say, then stopped to stare at the man. “Do we know you?”
“I gave you a ride from the airport to the tournament,” the man leaned back against the truck, his arms crossed over his chest. For his size and stature, the guy should have looked creepy, but he looked harmless instead. Lacey tried to jog her memory, but she didn’t remember him at all.
“The tournament that we won?” Lacey asked, her own arms crossing over her chest, but less good-old-boy-from-Kansas and more suspicious-woman-watching-a-creepy-guy-offering-her-a-ride.
“That’s the one,” the guy raised a pointed finger, his smile never wavering.
“Where’s our money?” Lacey demanded.
“What she means is,” Colt pushed Lacey back and tried a charming smile at the guy, “if what happened at the tournament really happened at the tournament, then are we going back or what?”
“Sure, but we thought you might want to claim your prize money,” the guy grabbed a bag out of the back of the truck. “And I had your phones and stuff, so…”
“But can we go back?” Colt ignored the bag that Lacey really wanted to grab.
“Sure,” the guy shrugged. “Does that mean you’re taking the job?”
“Job?” Lacey stammered out, trying to edge around Colt to grab for the bag.
“It was in the contract, but only if you still want it,” he pushed himself off the truck and walked the short sidewalk toward them.
“The contract?” Lacey parroted the guy like she was stupid, but as she reached past Colt for the bag, she noticed Colt wince. “What was in the contract? Do we still get the prize money?”
“I don’t blame you,” the guy sent a wink to Colt, and smiled that harmless smile at Lacey. “I don’t like reading those things either. The prize money is yours, of course. You’ll find new bank cards in your bag there with the prize money. The account is in both your names.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
“The contract we’re offering is to pick up your book contract,” he went on. “You’ve created a viable storyline, so we’re offering you a permanent position on the creative team for the game.” When he said game, he used air quotes. “The wages are competitive with gaming designers, but our work environment is a little unorthodox.”
“It’s real?” Colt asked.
“Did you know?” Lacey goggled at Colt.
“I read the contract, and it said stuff that didn’t make a lot of sense at the time, but I thought it was some playful language until we ended up down in the dungeon,” Colt admitted.
“It’s real,” the guy smiled.
“You read the contract that said we would be dumped in a video game?” Lacey smacked Colt on the arm, but not even hard enough to penetrate his shock. How he could be shocked now after all they had seen was crazier than the harmless dude. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t think it could be real,” Colt breathed out.
“It’s real, but I have to apologize for the rocky start you guys went through,” the harmless guy spread his hands in a shrug. “You are our first dungeon creators, and the engine can get finicky with new ideas. I can assure you that now that you’ve proved you’ve got the chops, it should go easier. The pedestal is fully functional and if we can keep the prototype going, we may be able to expand operations. We can even offer you a couple weeks as adventurers if you’d like to see how the other half lives.”
“It sounds real,” Lacey let herself smile. “But it also sounds like we’ve got a bit of negotiating power.”
“I want in,” Colt stuck out his hand. “I want to be on the team!”
“Hold it!” Lacey batted Colt’s hand down and pointed a finger at the guy. “I want a few things if we’re going to work for you on a voluntary basis.”
“You did opt in,” the guy frowned for the first time. “Twice, though I get that you didn’t read the contract for the tournament and don’t remember that one.”
“Lacey, don’t jinx this!” Colt whispered out of the side of his mouth even as he continued to smile at the guy.
“There’s a valley behind the mountain,” Lacey ignored both of them to say. “I want it to be part of our territory and inaccessible to adventures unless we let them in.”
“Oh, uh,” he cocked his head to the side. “I don’t see why we can’t work that in, but maybe more as something you earn once you hit a certain performance threshold?”
“And we want free home visits every Sunday,” Lacey pressed. “Every Sunday and major holidays.”
“Like Christmas and Easter? Or banker’s holidays?” the guy showed the first bit of shrewdness by asking. “I could go for four major holidays of your choosing, but you’ll have to buy anything past that.”
“And…”
“Don’t press your luck,” the guy slanted his head and raised his brows.
“Deal,” Lacey stuck out her own hand.
They shook hands, grinning like idiots there on the church sidewalk as the bus pulled away. It was a surreal moment where some part of Lacey’s brain was sure she’d had an aneurysm and was in a coma in some hospital somewhere. She held the hand that shook hers a little longer than was necessary or even comfortable, but he was patient and his eyes shone with a kind solidness that soothed her.
“You want a ride home?” the guy offered.
“Which home?” Colt eyed the truck like it was a version of Santa’s sleigh.
“I think you refer to it as your shitty apartment?” the guy gave Colt another wink and smile. “You have until tomorrow morning to get back to work. And don’t worry, none of the time you spent out here will count for the time the dungeon is closed for repairs and updates.”
“We could use a ride,” Lacey admitted, as Colt and the guy shook hands now too.
“You might want to pay your rent and bills or put them on autopay or something,” the guy suggested. “You’re a week behind on utilities. Not that I was intruding, but I didn’t want our little experiment to cause you undue stress from the real world.”
Lacey laughed.
----------------------------------------
Their car keys were in the bag with all their electronics and new bank cards. Their car was parked in their apartment’s parking lot in its assigned space. The take-out food in the fridge had gone bad, but everything else felt like they’d left the day before. They spent a few hours taking care of the business of keeping their place in the real world. Nothing was more surreal than paying all their bills 6 months in advance and still having money left over.
Lacey lay in bed, a bed that was less comfortable than the one in the dungeon and tried to think of what she would want to take with her if she could. Their contract was generous, but not extravagant, considering that their room and board was paid for at work for 6 days out of 7. She rested her head back on her hands and stared at the ceiling. Her mind raced.
It was better than their dream of owning an escape room experience. She’d even looked up their story online. It had mixed reviews, but it was mostly good. How the engine had read her mind so vividly was amazing. She’d only had time and patience to skim the first few chapters, but she didn’t mind how they’d portrayed her or Colt.
Before she knew it, she’d drifted off to sleep, her dreams tame compared to real life for a change. In the morning, she and Colt made coffee and breakfast like it was any other day. They were laughing at some lame joke as Lacey opened the front door.
“There it is,” Colt breathed out a sign of relief. Beyond the doorway was their dungeon control room.
“I’ve got to say, the commute is not bad,” Lacey grinned at Colt.