Critical Failures III (Caverns and Creatures Book 3), page 7
"What happened to your face?" asked Dave.
"I got hit by a car," said Tim, raising his hand up to Dave. "Can you give me a level zero heal to so I can take these fucking orange peels out of my nose?"
Dave touched Tim's finger. "Heal."
The pain dulled immediately, and Tim blew the bloody wads of orange peel out of his nose and onto the street. "I'm sorry. That was disgust -- Jesus!" He didn't think it could be possible, but the smell from the van was even worse now that his sinuses were clear.
"What's wrong?" asked Dave. He licked the inside of his yogurt cup.
“Ugh,” said Tim. “How can you even eat that in there?”
“It’s the most magnificent thing to ever have graced my palate!” said Professor Goosewaddle. His beard was thick and pink around his mouth. Four empty yogurt cups lay beside him on the floor of the van. “Where might we procure more of this?”
“We’re in the Rouse’s parking lot,” said Dave.
“Uh-uh,” said Tim. “Don’t even think about it. I might have a lead on where we can find Mordred. We can’t afford any distractions.”
“But he’s such a cute little old man,” said Stacy. “Let him have some more yogurt if he wants some. I can run in and get it while you guys work up a plan.”
Tim sighed. “Fine. Go get some fucking yogurt.”
“And Doritos,” said Cooper.
“Sure thing,” said Stacy. She started walking across the parking lot toward the supermarket entrance.
Cooper leaned out of the van and shouted after her. “Wait, no… Funyuns!”
“Cooper!” said Tim. “Get the fuck back in the van!”
Dave pulled Cooper in by the arm. Tim scanned the parking lot. A few old people were looking at him, but nobody was running or screaming, so they had likely dodged that particular bullet.
“You found Mordred?” asked Dave.
“Not exactly,” said Tim. “But I think I know where he’s going to go.”
“Where’s that?”
“Jack’s Comics,” said Tim. “He left all his C&C shit at the Chicken Hut. He’ll need to restock his books.”
“Sounds like a long shot,” said Dave. “How do you know he won’t just order books online?”
“He doesn’t have that kind of time,” said Tim. “He’s already planning to recruit some more players.”
“How do you know?”
“I found him on Facebook.”
“Mordred’s on Facebook?” asked Julian, tapping the screen on his phone.
“Don’t connect with him or message him or anything,” said Tim. “We can’t let him know we’re onto him.”
“So where is this place?” asked Julian. “Jack’s Comics.” He spoke the words slowly as he typed them into his phone.
“Biloxi,” said Tim.
“Yeah, I’ve got it on GPS.”
“We’ve still got almost an hour before it opens,” said Tim. “That should be plenty of time to find a good place to –” He yawned. “—stake it out.”
“Okay,” said Julian. “Well you guys can all follow me.”
“No,” said Tim. “You don’t have a driver’s license.”
“Sure I do.”
“Not one with a picture of a goddamn elf on it. Anyway, it’s best we go in as few cars as possible, so we don’t get separated.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Julian. “You can track me on your phone.”
“Good idea,” said Tim. “But my phone’s a piece of shit. Stacy’s got a tablet in her car.” Tim opened the passenger door of Stacy’s car, retrieved the tablet, and handed it to Julian. “Set it up.”
After a few minutes of fiddling, Julian showed the tablet to Tim. “You are the blue dot,” he said. “We’re in the same place right now, so that’s all you see. When we go more than about fifty feet away from each other, you’ll see a red dot. That’s me.” He ran across the parking lot. Sure enough, a red dot broke away from the blue dot on the map.
“Where’s Julian going?” asked Stacy, carrying two plastic grocery bags.
“Okay, it works!” shouted Tim. “Come back!” He showed Stacy the tablet. “Just testing out this GPS tracking thing.”
“Neat!” She handed off the bags to Cooper, who passed the bag full of yogurt to a very grateful Professor Goosewaddle.
Julian rode shotgun in the van so that he could navigate for Randy. Chaz reluctantly climbed into the back.
Tim hopped back into Stacy’s car, and they were soon on their way to Biloxi.
Tim’s eyelids were heavy. The last time he’d slept, he was in a different world. “I’m just gonna rest my eyes for a sec…”
Chapter 7
“Okay,” said Julian. “Get ready to make a left up here. You should see a Korean restaurant.”
“Y’all ain’t gonna kill me when this is all done,” said Randy. “Is you?”
“I don’t think so,” said Julian. “We haven’t discussed it. Slow down. Okay, there’s the Korean restaurant, and there’s the comic shop.” And there was the Holy Grail. Crappy silver hatchback with a busted rear windshield. “Jackpot.”
“Huh?”
“Change of plans,” said Julian. “Pull in here.”
Randy pulled into the parking lot across the street from the comic book store. Julian checked the side mirror. Stacy was pulling in right behind them. Perfect.
“Nice job, Randy. Wait here.” Julian opened the door and stepped out of the van. He walked around to the back and was smacked in the face by a rear door. “Ow!”
“Sorry!” said Dennis, running from the van like a bat out of hell.
“No, it’s okay,” said Julian. “I should have… Hey, wait!” He looked at Stacy’s car. She was shaking Tim. He must have fallen asleep. He looked in the back of the van. Everyone had fallen asleep.
“Shit.” Options were popping like soap bubbles as he considered his next move. “Ravenus!”
Ravenus hopped from the dashboard to the window. “Sir?”
“Follow Dennis. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
Ravenus flew off after the fleeing cop. There was only one thing to do. Only Cooper would be fast enough to catch him.
Julian climbed into the van and shook Cooper’s arm. “Wake up!”
“Huh? Wha?” said Cooper, clenching his fist and cocking back his arm. He elbowed Dave in the face. “Oh, it’s just you. What’s –”
“Cooper!” cried Julian, trying hard to maintain an inside voice. “Dennis is getting away!”
“Who the fuck is Dennis?”
“The cop!”
“Oh,” said Cooper. “Shit.”
“What are you waiting for?” asked Julian. “Go get him!”
“But I –”
“Hurry!”
Dennis had a two block lead on Cooper when he made a hard right around the side of a post office, but Cooper had a nice gap in traffic and a set of eyes in the sky. He would be on top of Dennis in a matter of seconds. And by some miracle, there was no one around quite close enough to see him for what he really was.
“What the hell is going on?” asked Tim, groggily.
“Dennis made a break for it,” said Julian. “I sent Cooper after him.”
Tim was suddenly wide awake. “You did what?”
“Also, you were right about Mordred. His car’s right there in the parking lot.” Julian pointed across the street.
Tim glanced in the direction Cooper and Dennis had run off in, but quickly turned his attention to Mordred’s car. “I need to borrow your phone.”
“Sure thing,” said Julian, handing Tim his phone.
Tim bolted across the street toward the comic shop parking lot. He stealthily made his way from one parked car to another. If Julian hadn’t been keeping a close eye on his movements, he probably would have lost him. He paused briefly behind an SUV parked next to Mordred’s car, looked this way and that, and then made his move. He tossed Julian’s phone through the busted rear windshield. That was rude.
Julian turned around. Cooper was running back with a protesting Dennis slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t so lucky crossing the street this time. A black Dodge pick-up screeched to a halt not soon enough to avoid him. It’s hard to say which would have taken more damage – probably Dennis – but Cooper jumped straight up in the air, coming down hard on the truck’s hood.
“Why don’t you watch where the fuck you’re going?” said the driver as he opened the door. He was a large man with a goatee and mirrored sunglasses. The top of his head was covered with a bald eagle bandana, and a luxurious golden mullet spilled out the back. He wore jean shorts and a black, sleeveless T-shirt. “You dented my truck. I oughtta bust your –” He got a good look at Cooper. “Holy fucking shit!” He scrambled back into his truck, and Cooper continued on his way.
Julian looked for Tim. He was nowhere to be seen. Probably sneaking around parked cars on his way back. Why did he even bother? Must be a rogue thing.
“No, I didn’t hit him exactly. He just jumped on the hood of my truck.”
Shit. The redneck was on the phone with the police. Far away as he was, Julian’s ears were sensitive enough to pick up his end of the conversation. “Cooper!” Julian yelled. “Hurry up!”
“I don’t know,” the man in the truck continued. “He was at least eight foot tall. Biggest, scariest looking nigger you never set eyes on… Well, I apologize, ma’am. I did not know that… Well how was I supposed to tell that over the phone? You don’t sound like one… Look, I said I was sorry… No, bigger than that. In fact, he almost looked like a gorilla… What? Oh, come on now… I didn’t say you all look like gorillas. I… But that’s not… You can’t… Hey, I’m the victim here!... Well then fuck you, lady!” He jabbed a sausagy finger into his phone. “Fucking liberals.”
Cooper shoved Dennis into the back of the van and climbed in after him. Julian closed the doors and ran around to the driver’s window.
“Get out of here,” Julian said to Randy. “Drive up the 110 and pull into the Walmart just across the interstate. We’ll meet you there.”
The van drove off. Tim was still nowhere to be seen. Julian looked for the truck. Thankfully, it was gone.
Julian was about to breathe a small sigh of relief when he spotted the truck again, right in front of him. It pulled up behind Stacy’s car, blocking her in. The driver got out.
“Hey Eggroll,” said the truck owner.
Julian looked around for anything which might be appropriately addressed as ‘Eggroll’. Coming up empty, he looked at the truck driver. “Are you talking to me?”
“You’re goddamned right I am, Sashimi.”
“I don’t understand your ref—”
“You tell that nigger friend of yours that he’s gonna pay to have my truck repaired. You got that?”
Stacy got out of the car. “Sir, he had nothing to do with –”
“This don’t concern you, bitch.” He addressed Julian. “I got that van’s plate number.”
“Oh yeah?” said Stacy. “What is it?” She was having too much fun for Julian’s comfort. This man almost certainly had an extensive gun collection.
“I believe I was talking to Wingding. Why don’t you get your skinny, chink-loving cunt back in the car.”
“Hey!” said Julian. It was time for an Intimidation check. He stepped forward, getting right in the truck driver’s face. He spoke softly, but firmly. “Get in your truck, go back to your trailer, turn on some NASCAR, and fuck your sister.”
The man jabbed Julian’s chest with his finger. “You’ve got some nerve, you know that? Coming into this country and talking to me that way. I don’t care how many black belts you got. I’ll kick your railroad-building, soy sauce-sucking, chopsti—” A giant glob of white ran down from his bandana over his right eye and down his cheek. "What the fuck?” He wiped it out of his eye and flung it away.
Well done, Ravenus. Well done. “You were saying?”
The man was beet-red and shaking, but it’s hard to be taken seriously with a face full of bird shit. He got in his truck and slammed the door. The tires squealed as he sped off.
“What was all that about?” asked Tim, who appeared out of nowhere.
“Do I look Asian?” asked Julian, looking in Stacy’s side mirror.
“I wouldn’t have thought so,” said Stacy. “But I can see it. Your eyes have a little upward slant at the ends.”
“Hey, where’s the van?” said Tim.
“I sent them to Walmart.”
“What the fuck for?” cried Tim. “Did you run out of Funyuns?”
“I had to make a split-second decision. We were drawing too much attention.”
“Why Walmart?” asked Tim. “That’s miles away.”
“It’s the first place that came to mind. They could hang out anonymously in the parking lot, and still be easy for us to find.”
“Shit.”
“We could call them and tell them to turn around if some asshole hadn’t chucked my phone into – Hey, where’s Mordred’s car?” The parking space where Mordred’s car had been was now vacant.
“He’s on the move!” said Tim. He folded his arms across his chest and looked up smugly at Julian. “But now we can track him back to his house and grab him at night.”
“It was still a dick move,” said Julian. “You should've asked first.”
“Come on,” said Tim, hopping into the back seat. “Let’s go to Walmart.”
Chapter 8
Dave didn’t know where the van was headed this time, and he didn’t care. The fifteen or twenty minutes of sleep he had gotten on the way to Biloxi had not been nearly enough. The Dennis problem had been temporarily resolved by Cooper promising to eat Dennis’s legs if he tried to run again. Dennis agreed to behave, and Dave believed him. But as a precautionary measure, and to make his sleep that much sounder, he handcuffed Dennis’s leg to Cooper’s wrist and tucked the key safely beside his own balls.
When he got as cozy as was possible against the side of the van, sleep washed over him like a dark tidal wave.
When he awoke in a foggy green pasture, he knew he was dreaming. Nothing about the pasture was unusual. He just knew, because dreams are weird that way. He couldn’t see more than a few feet in any direction. He felt compelled to walk forward, so he did.
There was a scent in the air that was neither grass nor fog. Dave sniffed. Smoke. The scent grew stronger as Dave continued on his course. Burning pinewood. Not long after he identified the smell, he heard the crackle of the fire. It was just ahead of him. He’d see it soon. There were other sounds too. Laughter. Someone was laughing so hard they were scarcely able to breathe. Several people were laughing. What could be so funny? One of the voices suddenly stopped laughing. There was a THUNK and a cry of pain.
Another voice stopped laughing. “Ah, there you are, Dave.” The fog evaporated. Dave was standing face to face with one of the Horsemen. The one who called himself ‘War’. Beyond him, the other three Horsemen were in a triangular formation around a disfigured troll.
“It is Dave, isn’t it?” said War. “You’re the cleric, right?”
“How do you know my name?”
“Mordred told us about you. He asked me to tell you to leave him alone. And he said to add ‘Or else’.”
“This isn’t real,” said Dave. “This is a dream. You’re not really here.”
“You’re partly correct,” said War. “This is a dream. But it’s also very real. And I hate to nitpick, but it’s you who isn’t really here.”
“Scott!” shouted the half-orc who called himself ‘Pestilence’. “Who are you talking to?”
“Call me War,” War shouted back to him. “It’s the dwarf. I’m in his dream.”
“Cool,” said Pestilence. “Tell him to take a look at this.” He raised a huge maul – the head was a block of steel the size of a small carry-on bag – and ran up to the troll. He took a wide swing and connected with the troll’s face, leaving its lower jaw hanging by a couple of tendons on one side. He danced from side to side in front of the wounded troll, taunting it and waving it toward him, but the troll only watched, white-hot hatred burning in its eyes.
“Why doesn’t it fight?” asked Dave.
“Keep watching,” said War.
Dave observed the troll more closely as its jaw melded back into place, and the nature of its disfigurement became clear. They had chopped off its right arm at the shoulder and its left leg at the hip, and used the creature’s own regenerative powers against it, reattaching each limb where the other was supposed to go. Cooper had thought up the same idea a while back. It was hilarious when they were all drunk, and just imagining it at the gaming table. But to actually see it happening here, it was nauseating.
“You guys are sick assholes.”
“Shut up,” said War. “You’re about to miss the best part.”
“Come and get it!” said Pestilence, waving his ass mere feet away from the giant angry monster.
The troll swiped a clawed hand out at Pestilence, who swerved his ass out of the way just in time. Unable to keep its balance, the troll fell down hard on its face. The three Horsemen surrounding it were crippled with laughter.
War laughed a little less heartily and quickly brought it under control. “Mordred wants to know how you came back.”
“You can tell Mordred…” Dave wished Cooper was here. Cooper would have the perfect line ready to deliver. “… to sit on it.” Oh my god that was so lame.
“Sit on what?” asked War. “You mean you want to sleep on it? Like, you need a day to think it over?”
Dave felt so old. This kid had never seen Happy Days. “Just tell him ‘No’. We’re not telling him anything.”
War smiled. It wasn’t pleasant. “He said you might say that. And personally, I hope you keep holding out. I’m looking forward to beating the information out of you myself.”
“We might surprise you with what we can do as a team,” said Dave. He felt like an after school special, so much lameness was spouting out of his mouth. “We took down a troll too, you know.” It had been a forest troll, significantly weaker than a standard troll, but War didn’t need to know that.
