Southern California

“Sup, Boy!” Dave grinned and held out a hand.

“Dave.” Alin dapped the guard up in that intricate way Dave had showed him. “Shauna.” He did the same with other guard. Though she merely grinned, amused at the ridiculous gesture.

“That’s a good shiner you got there,” Shauna said.

“You was just getting rid of the old one!” Dave laughed.

Alin shrugged.

What he really wanted to do was head on up to his family’s suite for a shower and an ice pack, but it was important to treat people like people, not just employees.

“You know how it is. I’m not training hard enough if my face isn’t getting touched up.”

“Aww, but it’s going to mess up your handsome face.” Shauna ruffled his hair.

He didn’t know the specifics, but the middle-aged woman had a son his age once.

He blushed. “I’ll tell them you said that.”

“Aw, man, you gonna make him look bad in front of all the badasses.” Dave chuckled.

A glint in the corner of Alin’s eye drew his attention.

The guard golem was a short, stout, quadrupedal monstrosity of metal and plastic powered by magic, steam and whirling gears. It wasn’t very smart. Simple instructions were all it could follow.

It was one of the golem maker’s earlier creations from about fifteen years ago.

She had better, newer ones, but she was a paranoid sort and kept those for herself.

His dad had bought a bunch of the older ones to see if they could be upgraded.

Sadly, success had been limited.

One needed the golem maker’s class to utilize her creations to their full potential.

“Finally got the upgrade?” He nodded to the Thernium plates covering the guard golem’s vital areas.

“Yup!” Dave patted the machine monstrosity proudly. “The Last Call here is lighter, tougher and faster than he’s ever been! Replaced the AR-15 with one of those fancy recoilless rifles. Caseless ammo means lighter ammo, which means more more ammo. Got two shield generators now. One magitech and one from the Threnosh. Added an extra engine and an extra power source. Our boy here can fight for days without slowing down!”

“Jesus Christ, Dave!” Shauna rolled her eyes. “You’d think you just gave birth to it.”

“Him, Shauna, he is him.”

“You better be careful with that Dave. That’s how you get things coming to life. And when something comes alive you don’t know what you’re going to get. Me, personally, keep it as dumb as a computer. I don’t need anything more than something that’ll shoot what I tell it to shoot.”

“She’s got no imagination, right, Boy?” Dave shook his head ruefully.

“I, uh, I think I saw this movie about that sort of thing. And the astronaut’s name was also ‘Dave’.”

“Oh shit! That’s right! I just made the connection right now.” Dave looked thoughtful.

“You mean, he made the connection for you.” Shauna sighed. “Alright, Boy, you better get going. I’m sure you want to wash the stink off you.” She ruffled his head one last time. “You know, I’m not a fan of the new hair cut. Too short. The messy mop you used to have was nicer.”

“Why you got to make it all weird, Shauna?” Dave chuckled.

“It’s only weird if Boy finds it weird,” she said.

“I figure it’s cool. You know,” he shrugged, “as long as you don’t do it in front of my friends or something. See you guys later.” He waved and headed to the elevators.

The ride up to their suite gave him a rare moment of silent reflection.

He had received his dad’s message near the end of morning training.

No deaths among the team, which kept the streak alive.

How long had it been?

Five, almost six years since his dad had lost a person.

He knocked on the elevator’s faux wood.

“Shit…”

That probably didn’t count. There was a real wood table right outside the elevator, so it’d be okay.

Didn’t want to jinx his dad’s team.

Part of him was jealous of them for getting to go out and really do good things for people.

Part of him was afraid. Of dying. Of failing. Failing his dad and mom, the team, the people.

The thought helped him push through the doubt whenever the aches and pains with their incessant nagging told him to just give it up. Go do one of the other things his parents kept telling him were just as vital to the community as fighting and killing.

The throbbing around his eye was reminding him that all of it was true.

His parents wouldn’t be ashamed if he went down another path.

“Shut up, you,” he muttered.

The elevator doors slid open.

He knocked on the table then went to their suite’s front door. He held his key card up to the lock, placed his hand on the hand scanner and held his eye to the eye scanner.

No one was home.

His mom was busy with monsters again.

Part of him was sad about that.

She used to be almost always waiting for him.

He could’ve used a hug.

However, that was the little boy talking.

He was almost a grown man.

She would’ve fussed over his black eye.

That would’ve been embarrassing.

Especially, when she would’ve made him go over what led to the black eye so that she could tell him what he did wrong and what he should’ve done instead.

As if he had chosen to get punched in the face.

“Right. Shower, ice, lunch,” he muttered.

Two and a half hours until afternoon practice.

He checked the fridge and found plenty of prepared meals.

Fresh cooked food down in the food court or one of the restaurants would’ve been better, but saving time for recovery was more important.

The food in their fridge was the same stuff they were cooking down in the restaurants anyways.

His smartphone buzzed.

The family group chat.

“At least two more weeks,” he sighed at the message.

He typed out a quick message to his dad.

Mentally, he added another two weeks to how long it’d take his dad to get back.

They had included him in the Quest briefing and he understood that clean up was going to take more time than anything else if they wanted to leave the locals in a good spot.

Plus, his dad needed to show that he was serious about the whole unified Earthian thing.

The calendar on the kitchen wall caught his eye.

“Dad’s going to cut it close.”

Prison check time was coming up.

His dad had been completely transparent about what he was doing with the prison.

Maybe it was time for him to see it for himself since he was close to adulting now with his 17th birthday coming up in a few months. After that it was just one more year to true adulthood.

Still no class or powers.

His shoulders slumped as he trudged to the bathroom.

The extended break went quicker than he liked.

Was he overtraining?

Damn it!

Everyone had always said that when those thoughts started up it was time for a real break.

He trudged back to the elevator.

It stopped just a few floors below his.

“Hey, Lash,” he waved. “Just wake up?”

“Hey, Boy,” she yawned, “yeah, just took my afternoon nap. How’d you know?”

She and her boyfriend, Colin, lived in another one of the hotel’s fully-equipped suites.

He pointed at her black, natural hair. One side of the curly hair was flattened against the side of her head.

Lash turned to look at her reflection in the elevator’s door.

“Damn it,” she sighed, taking out a comb. “Hey, you didn’t happen to get more news about the Quest?”

“Nope. Nothing more than what my dad sent out to everyone.”

“My damn fool boyfriend isn’t responding to my messages.”

“He wasn’t on the injury list, so you probably don’t need to worry.”

Lash waved a hand.

“I wasn’t. What I want is for him to tell me how his gear did, so I can get started on the performance assessment. If he isn’t due back for another couple of weeks then that’s just time I’m wasting.”

“Um…”

He thought hard about how much he could share.

Due to opsec concerns, Lash didn’t have access to all the Quest details.

He did because he sits in on all the briefings that he’s available for.

“Colin’s probably just busy. Getting his loot or flying combat patrols cause wandering monsters are going to be attracted to all the dead bodies, the mana thrown out and just the violence.”

“All the more reason for him to look at his phone so I can tell him what to grab. He always goes for the most destructive thing when what he needs to do is look for stuff that’ll synergize, you know what I mean?”

“Yeah, totally.”

“Like, what do you think is better? A stick that shoots a fireball the size of a small house once because you don’t have a mage class? Or a compact power source that’ll add two, three hours to your operational combat time without messing with the delicate balance?”

“Um, like, in a vacuum? I’d probably go with the power source. Way more versatile. But… I can think of a bunch of scenarios where I’d rather have a house-sized fireball, even if it’s just one.”

“Boys and their big booms,” Lash snorted.

“Apparently, we also like big numbers that only go up.”

She laughed.

“You guys aren’t the only ones!”

The elevator squealed to a stop.

“See you later, Lash. Off to more training for me.”

“Hold on. On more thing. I’m not fittin’ to tell you what to do, but I’mma tell you what to do. You’re eye looks like hamburger.” She waved a hand in front of the eye in question. “I can’t even tell if you can see out of it.”

“It’s fine,” he sighed.

“Uh huh… you should take a break. I don’t think you should be eating anymore shots on that handsome face of yours. Why don’t you go get some healing?”

“For a little black eye?” he scoffed. “Nah. I don’t want them to waste mana or Skills. You never know when they might be needed for real stuff. Besides, it’s fine. Afternoon training is just lifting. Then cardio. I’m not doing melee practice again until Friday.”

“So, you get to skip a day. You boys are all the same.” She shook her head, but smiled to take the sting off a bit. “You should take a week off from getting hit in the face or, I don’t know, git gud and not get hit.”

“That’s why we practice.”

He would’ve smiled if doing so didn’t make the left side of his face hurt.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The grind continued.

Two weeks turned into three when his dad finally came home.

He found his dad sitting on the couch with his mom standing behind him doing that upside down kissing thing.

“Blech… get a room.”

His parents laughed.

“Seriously, guys, we’ve talked about this.”

“Look who’s home!” His mom ruffled his dad’s mop of slightly wavy black hair.

“I know. I figured you were home with all the new people downstairs.”

“You cut your hair,” his dad said.

Alin ran a hand over his closely cropped hair. Almost shaved on the sides and a bit longer on top.

“I got tired of the mop soaking and holding all the sweat.”

“I used to have that same problem when I was a lot younger.”

His dad got up and crushed him in a hug.

He returned it for a moment then started making gagging sounds when it kept going.

“What too cool to hug your old man?”

“Yes,” he said flatly.

His mom suddenly jumped on his dad’s back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Blech…”

Seriously, his old parents were acting like… well… teenagers.

“All flirting and crap,” he muttered. “Right in front of me too…”

“Oh? Hmm, I vaguely remember you giving Kat piggyback rides up and down the hallways.” His mom gasped theatrically. “Could that have been flirting and crap?”

“Where you spying on us, mother?” he gasped right back.

“Uh oh, he’s going in with the ‘mother’. That means ‘dearest mother’ is just around the corner. What are we to do?” his dad nodded.

“It’s true,” his mom continued, “I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Okay, first of all it wasn’t just me and Kat. My friends were doing it too—”

His parents snickered.

“Oh, c’mon! You guys are, like, fifty. It’s creeping me out you acting like—”

Both his parents raised a brow.

Were they synchronizing that shit?

He cleared his throat.

“Anyways, my friends and I were racing,” he said with dignity.

“Ah, the sport of kings. Can’t get more dignified than that,” his dad agreed.

“How’d the Quest go?”

“Details are in the full after action report.”

“I guess I’ll read it when I have the time,” he sighed.

“I’ll tell you about it over lunch.”

“Cool.”

“Hmm… so, how were things while I was gone?”

It was weird talking to his dad while his mom was hanging on his dad’s back.

“Can you, uh, not do that?” He gestured vaguely in her direction.

“No,” she grinned.

“I mean, I see you cut your hair. Was it because I was growing mine out? Cause I was trying to copy you,” his dad said.

“I knew it! Mom, you lied to me!”

She shrugged.

“Sorry, I answered you with the knowledge that I had in the moment.”

“Guys, it’s not a big deal. I can just go get my hair cut,” his dad said.

“That’s so lame, Dad. The lamest.”

“Alright, fine. You’re off the hook… for now. Oh, and your mom mentioned something.”

“About?”

“Go on, tell your father what you told me.”

“Er… you’re going to the prison soon, right?”

“Yeah.” His dad’s face fell. “A little behind schedule on that. Took a bit longer than I planned to get people back to their homes. Also had to clear issues they had with monsters and marauder-types. Then I had to drop people off all across old America,” he sighed. “The Faeran killed a good amount of their best defenders. I’m going to have to go back a few times every month to make sure they don’t get wiped out until people level up again. You know, that’s one of the glaring negatives to this whole thing. It takes decades to get over Level 30, let alone 40. You can’t just train up a replacement in a few months if that person gets killed. So, tell me why you want to visit the prison? Whether I say yes or no depends on the quality of your answer.”

“C’mon, Love. Don’t be mean,” his mom chided.

“I’m not. This is serious business.”

He had already thought through his reasoning.

“Because being responsible isn’t just about the good stuff. Or the cool, fun, exciting things. It’s about everything that makes our society work. Including the darker stuff. I need to know what it’s like or I won’t be able to understand the whole picture.”

“Can’t you wait? You’ll be technically an adult in just one more year, then we can’t make you do stuff… legally,” his mom said.

Who was she kidding?

There was no way they were just going to wipe their hands of him once he turned 18. He fully expected the opposite.

He had thought about the answer to this as well.

“I don’t believe one year will make a difference. If I can’t handle it now, why would it be different next year? And I won’t ever learn to handle something if I never try.”

His dad searched his eyes for a silent moment.

“Okay, those were reasons. You can come along. But…” his dad raised a finger, “I’m not going to coddle you. You will see the unfiltered truth because to do less is to treat the situation without the proper amount of respect.”

“I’ve thought about this for, like, a month and I’m sure I want this. I mean, I don’t want it, but I know I have to do it. Does that make sense?”

His dad smiled.

“You’ve basically defined responsibility.”

It seemed sad.

“I guess we’re going to the prison,” his mom sighed.

“You too, Love?”

“Yes, Love. I’m not going to let my baby boy get anywhere near that place without me. Boy, you’re wearing your full armor. All restrictions off.”

Alin fought the smile off his face.

“Yeah, I mean, if you think that’s for the best, mom. Your call. A hundred percent. I will do want you want, er, in regards to my armor.”

“It’s safe,” his dad said.

“Can you rule out one of the cannibals or other monsters you’ve got locked up in that place counter-leveling and suddenly pulling out a last minute power up escape or prison riot?”

“No, but there are multiple safeguards and there aren’t enough prisoners to constitute a riot in the first place. Hell, it’s more likely they fight each other than work together. So, please don’t jinx it.”

“Not up for discussion. It’s a family trip. We can have a picnic in the mountains after. Being in nature will be healing for our baby after what he’s going to see.”

“Moooommmm, I’m not a baby,” he whined.

“Of course not, sweetie!” She tried to ruffle his hair, but it was too short.

Alin 1. Mom 0.

----------------------------------------

Elsewhere

She charged down the stairs, all long-limbed and gangly, seemingly overnight, almost tripping as she rounded the corner into the kitchen.

The raid commenced with frantic precision.

Snacks from the pantry and cupboards.

For some reason the chips and cookies weren’t kept in the same place.

The fridge next for a few bottles of water.

Everything went in a giant bag.

“Brittney!”

“Yes, Momma!”

“Don’t forget the sunscreen!”

Her momma was shouting from the laundry room.

“Ugh…” she stomped down the hallway. “Momma,” she pointed to her dark-skinned face, “I don’t need sunscreen. It’s, like, an evolution thing.”

“Uh huh? Tell that to Auntie Doris. She loved wearing her bikinis. Always said the same thing. Guess what happened when she turned forty?”

“Something happened to Auntie Doris?”

Britt wracked her brain, but couldn’t come up with anything.

“Melanoma.”

“What!” her eyes widened. “Why’d no one tell me?”

“Oh, it turned out to be benign, but the po—”

“Ugh…”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Brittney. You’re not too big that I can’t take you over my knee.”

“Sorry, Momma,” she sighed.

“Don’t you be making noises either.” Her momma waved a shirt in her direction menacingly. “The point is that your Auntie Doris got lucky that it wasn’t the bad kind. Honestly, what’s a minute or two spent putting on some sunscreen if it’ll save you from a lot of pain and heartache down the line? I even got that spray stuff, so it’s even easier.”

“Fine, Momma. I’ll go put on sunscreen.” She flounced away.

“Put it on before you leave. It’s getting hot out and I don’t want you sweating it off. And remember to reapply it every hour. And don’t jump in the water too quickly or it’ll just wash off. And be careful!

Her momma’s voice echoed, chasing her all the way back up the stairs to the bathroom.

She muttered under her breath while she sprayed her face, arms and legs. She’d get the rest of her body when she got to the lake. No sense in waiting any longer, despite what Momma had said.

The sunscreen spray went into her bag.

She went into the garage and pulled her bicycle out the side door.

Finally!

The morning sun was already pretty warm.

Perhaps, Momma had a point.

The lake wasn’t too far from her home.

She didn’t even have to leave her neighborhood.

The sprawling park at the center of several neighborhoods was vibrant. Green tree leaves and grass popped so much that they looked like something out of a cartoon.

People of all ages and races were enjoying themselves in peaceful harmony.

Fathers helped their young children raise kites, while mothers sat on shaded picnic blankets with crawling babies.

Dogs chased balls, sticks and discs or each other, zooming around tongues lolling, tales wagging. Not a single one so much as growled or snapped at another.

People waved with genuine greetings as she pedaled across the wide, paved path.

It meandered in gentle curves as it followed the shade provided by strategically-paced trees.

The lake was in the center of the park, fed by a pair of streams flowing in from… huh?

Britt realized that she had no idea where the streams came from.

The thought vanished when she saw her friends waiting at one of the many tables beneath the shade of an enormous tree.

Michael, Sarah, Charlie, Sunny, Lincoln, and Randall had beaten her.

Fred, Michael’s older cousin, thrice removed, was also there with his girlfriend, April, for some reason.

Brittney slow rolled her battered old bike to a stop and laid it in the grass with the other bikes.

“Last one,” Randall smirked.

God! He was so annoying. Why did they even let him hang out with them?

“Oh? I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was like class. Did I miss the bell? Is there a bell? Are you gonna write me up for being tardy?” She rolled her eyes.

“Nah, I just won a bet,” Randall grinned. “That’s two Mike’s for me.”

“Huh?” she looked to Michael.

“Fred only got two six-packs,” Michael sighed.

“Hey, you should be happy I even agreed to buy you kids booze.” Fred regarded his younger cousin before heading to the cooler and pulling four of the hard lemonades out. “Listen, kids, you share. At least one each, unless you don’t want, then you can figure out the division of loot amongst yourselves. And it’s going to be hot today, so remembered to hydrate with water. Booze dehydrates you and I’m not going to be responsible for one of you getting heatstroke or drowning. C’mon, babe.” He threw an arm around April’s shoulder and headed to a more secluded area along the shore.

A snickering Randall nudged Lincoln while eyeballing April’s backside.

“Gross,” Charlie punched his arm.

“What?” Randall complained.

“You’re so obvious, creepy perv. You better not look at any of us!” She raised her fist.

“Where am I supposed to look then?”

“I don’t know, how about our faces,” Sarah said.

Sunny grunted.

“If I catch you checking me out, I’m hitting you in the face.”

“C’mon, that’s not fair. What if you walk in front of me and I happen to be looking at that?” Randall gestured at the smiling puppy sitting in the grass.

Weird.

Britt hadn’t noticed the puppy approaching.

“Whatever,” Sunny shrugged. “Don’t look and your face doesn’t get punched.”

“Okay, that’s just unfair. First of all, you’re wearing bikinis. If you don’t want guys to look then you wouldn’t be wearing them, right?” Randall looked to Lincoln and Michael for some support and found none.

“Just drop it, bro,” Michael sighed. “Just don’t be a creep about it.”

“Yeah, like my dad says, your mouth is cashing checks you can’t cash,” Lincoln said.

“Okay, first of all,” Britt raised a finger, “we’re wearing bikinis because its hot and we’re going swimming.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean you can just stare at us like a creeper,” Charlie said.

“Fine, I’m just gonna look into the sun, I guess,” Randall grumbled.

The girls went into the lake and relaxed in the cool water on foam noodles while sipping their hard lemonades.

“Would you stop that?”

Charlie kept looking around like a guilty songbird.

“I’m watching out for one of the rangers.”

“What for?”

Charlie lowered her voice. “We’re drinking alcohol.”

“That’s why I brought these,” Sarah tapped the coozie covering the bottle. “My sister says that they can’t do anything if they can’t see it. We’re just drinking normal lemon soda.”

They talked about the latest gossip from school and other things that young girls on the cusp of teenage-hood did.

Invariably, talk turned toward the essay they had due on Monday.

Britt had been struggling with the prompt.

Under what circumstances would the consumption of human flesh by a human could be considered acceptable.

“The Donner party story, right?” Charlie pointed out. “They were starving and the bodies were already dead, so, I guess that’d be one time it’s okay.”

“Meat’s all the same,” Sunny shrugged, “we’re all animals.”

“I think there’s a few key differences, Sunny.”

Like the whole sapience thing.

Then again, some animals were pretty close.

Like apes, elephants and dolphins.

People didn’t eat them unless they had nothing else.

Huh?

So was that the answer?

Britt thought about it.

“Maybe, that’s the only time you can do it,” she mused. “If a person’s already dead and you will die if you don’t eat them.”

“Ewww,” Sarah shuddered.

The girls giggled.

“You guys talking about the assignment?” Michael swam over with the other boys.

They were taking a break from their roughhousing.

True to his word Randall kept his eyes skyward. “I’m sorta with Sunny on this,” he said. “We’re all part of the animal kingdom. So, it’s natural, predator and prey stuff. One day you’re the hunter gunning down the deer… the next, a bear’s eating your guts.” He mimed a bears paw being place on a persons chest while growling and snorting.

Britt rolled her eyes.

“You would say that.”

“Okay, so, that’s two people in the everybody can eat everybody camp,” Charlie said. “I’m with Britt on the it’s only okay if you’re going to starve to death, but the person you’re eating has to have already died.”

“Well, my dad and uncles are hunters and they always say you don’t want to eat anything that’s already dead. Full of diseases and parasites,” Randall said.

“Gross!” Sarah splashed him in the face.

“What? It’s true. That’s just nature,” he sputtered.

“Who else is with me and Britt?” Charlie polled the rest.

Sarah and Lincoln raised their hands.

“Michael, what about you?”

“I don’t know, Charlie… I think, maybe… maybe it’d be better to die than have to eat another person.”

Silence descended over the group.

Britt mulled Michael’s words over.

Time passed slowly, yet swiftly.

The sun crested straight above them, then continued its descent toward the western horizon.

“Mr. Cruces gives the weirdest assignments,” she muttered.

They dropped the conversation, turning to more fun stuff.

They ate, drank and, yes, flirted… not with Randall… the creepy perv needed to learn his lesson.

It was a lazy, fun-filled Saturday.

One of many in their young lives.

At least until the screams started.