Chương 59: Cookies

Standing at the foot of the Allegheny Mountains, I was surprised that Nathan's cave-diving spiel didn't also touch on the dangers of walking aimlessly in the forest. That felt pretty damn scary right about then. Domonkos was going out into the woods with us again for this run. Next week, Megan and I would try to find a new path to the caves Domonkos wanted to see so badly.

"When you tie these on, leave enough for big loose ends," Domonkos said, wrapping a bright pink ribbon around a tree.

"You want the chance of some movement. Things are easier to see if they're moving." The three of us retraced the path we walked last week and marked the trail as we went. When we got to the point where we crossed the river, Domonkos stopped to help us practice with his GPS device and his radios. More than simply showing us what buttons did what, he insisted that we use them while he supervised. That was the only way to be sure we could actually operate them if an emergency did arise.

I was grateful for the instruction and wouldn't have minded a bit more, to be honest. We were on a time crunch, however, so the next weekend needed to be something real. Searching for a Domonkos-friendly route might not be as exciting as goblin fighting, but it would be an actual adventure. This Saturday and the one before were orientation tutorials. Boring. Boring. Boring. And the views agreed.

At any rate, here's how Domonkos helped us practice with the GPS: He walked one of us into the woods with one GPS while the other person waited by the creek and monitored our progress with their own GPS. Whoever was in the woods with Domonkos got spun around with their eyes closed and had to find their way back. Once we got that down, which wasn't too bad when I had a compass to orient myself, we practiced having the person at the stream guide us back via radio chatter alone.

That meant the person in the woods didn't have a GPS of their own and had to follow directions to get back. To end the day, Domonkos challenged us to head in the direction of the caves for fifteen minutes and then find our way back to the rendezvous point.

"And try not to use your GPS if you can. Go ahead and mark some trees as you go, but my granddaddy used to say playing this game made him good in the caves. See, in a cave, you can't rely on orientation or sense of direction. Not enough reference points. Instead, you learn to make a little slideshow with notes. In your mind as you go, not an actual slideshow." He gestured for us to follow as he picked a direction at random and walked into the woods, narrating as he went.

"Here's what I mean. I walked to the right of the cone-hat stone beneath the tree and then straight to the berry bush, but I went to the left of that. Now, I'm turning left ninety degrees at the big clump of exposed roots and walking with my back to the mountains." This was a mnemonic device. Narrating his own steps and observations helped him to build a mental breadcrumb trail of where he had been. When it was time to return, he reversed everything in his mind and followed the trail back.

"What yinz have to watch for is compromising," Domonkos said at one point.

"People get lost because they see something they don't recognize and then keep going, hoping that they'll find something familiar farther on. In the woods or in a cave? Easy to convince yourself when something is almost right. Nope. Don't do that. Backtrack right there to the last clue you were sure of and try again. If you wait too long, you ain't finding your way back." Implementing that method didn't come naturally for me. Megan felt good about it, she said, but I needed a lot more practice.

I heard Nathan's voice in my head saying to beware of the caves and realized that relying on Megan's ability alone would be a bad survival strategy. And not because Megan was Megan, but rather because normal people made mistakes, and if she was the only one who knew how to navigate that way, I'd never be able to check her work and catch one of those mistakes. Redundancy was safer. Period.

On the way back to the rendezvous point, Megan made a find that put us at ease, which is strange to say because the find was goblin bones. She tripped over a rock only to find that it was a tiny angry skull. What killed the goblin was hard to say. The remains were scattered, which was what you would expect scavengers like crows and raccoons to do, but that meant we had no good way of knowing where or how the goblin actually died.

The rotted branch through its ribcage could have been evidence that deadfall killed it, Domonkos suggested, but that branch could have ended up in that position some other way. If you don't know what deadfall is, that's okay. I didn't either until Domonkos explained it to me. Apparently, a significant number of campers and hikers have died by simply being in the wrong place when a dead branch fell off of a tree. Most often, that happened when they were camping and heavy winds rolled through.

That tree looked like shelter, but it was actually out to stab you in the brain when it shed. Regardless of the goblin's actual cause of death, this skeleton was evidence that goblins were in the forest and that they still had to be in the area. Megan said as much in the video she shot about it for the channel. When she turned off the camera, she sighed.

"Here's hoping we kill some goblins next week." Wednesday the following week, while I spent yet another day in the library, Enforcer McDouglas sent me a message, asking for my location. He found me on the third floor, looked around to confirm we were alone, and sat across from me.

"You're on tonight. Take the car and your cover gear to this address." He passed me a piece of paper.

"I'll meet you there with a tech, and we'll get set up." I swallowed.

"Tonight."

"Being scared just means you respect how serious something is," he said.

"It's not a small thing, but you're being yourself for ninety-five percent of it."

"Do I get a backstory to study?" McDouglas shook his head.

"Don't need it. Their Discord rules specifically state not to reveal anything but the username vouching for you. Not their real name. Not how you met. Not how to find them. I'll send their list, but that simplifies a lot for us."

"Alright."

"Leave everything connected to Enforcer Gray at home, like your phone, your wallet, dumb keychains, whatever. See you soon."

"Yes, sir." My cover identity's name was "Nico Gray." I hoped McDouglas got his jollies off coordinating that little joke because I hated it. I hated it even more when he told me what Nico's Discord username was: TheFaptabulous87. I learned that fact sitting in the back of a surveillance van with McDouglas and a CDM investigator I didn't know and was not introduced to. TheFaptabulous87.

"... Why?" I asked.

"Does it sound authentic or not?" McDouglas countered.

"Yes," I admitted.

"Because it's not what a CDM stiff would choose for themselves," he said. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Other than those names and my address, I was supposed to use my real-life story for everything else, minus the part about working for the CDM, obviously.

"Also, you're the kind of person who wears a beanie now," he handed me a ratty black beanie cap with an embroidered Riptide logo. Now a defunct crawl team, the Riptide logo was an angry cartoon shark.

"They'd have to cut the stitching out to know anything was in here. Now, this is only a mic. We'll try to keep a visual on you from outside, but I can't control where the hostess seats you."

"What do I say if I need pulled out?" McDouglas chuckled.

"You're meeting at a Denny's. This is low risk."

"So if I need help, then I just… what?"

"Fine. Say 'Memphis,' and I'll swing in to save the day."

"Memphis. Got it." Then I was back in Nico's car. I drove down the street, pulled into a mostly empty Denny's parking lot, and went inside. I was meeting Larry_High_Gax but didn't have any description of what he looked like. His messages said he would wave me down when I came in. If he didn't, that meant he decided I was untrustworthy and that the interview was off. When I stepped inside, a tired hostess greeted me.

"Counter or table?"

"Actually, I'm meeting someone…" A man in his late thirties or early forties at the back of the restaurant waved at me. He had the bulky frame of someone who was quite the athlete when they were younger, but now a dad bod was laid over top of it. His stubble was a few days old, but his hands looked ancient, like each of them was one giant callus that happened to have fingers.

"And that's him. Thank you." She forced a smile and handed me a menu and silverware to carry to the table myself.

"Larry?" I asked as I sat.

"Faptabulous?" he asked in return. I nodded and sat. He opened his menu and began reading.

"How did you know Juicy?"

"Did? Past tense?" Larry shrugged.

"Probably. That happens to people like us sometimes. One day they're there and then just never log on again. I've heard of a few that quit cold turkey, but typically, they stop coming around because it's past tense."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"So, how did you know Juicy?" he repeated with a little more force.

"I'm not going to say anything that could burn someone."

"I just told you he was dead."

"I don't know you," I replied.

"He told me the rules. I know him, and that's it."

"Knew."

"Right." Larry turned the page on the menu. I wondered if he was actually planning to eat.

"Level and class?"

"Archer. Level 6."

"You've done this before?" I nodded.

"Why do you want to join our group?" he asked.

"Safety in numbers and can hit better gates."

"To what end?"

"XP. Money."

"What do you do for work otherwise?"

"Next question, please," I answered. That must have been the right answer because he moved on.

"Are you from around here?" Sighing, I said, "The rules are pretty plain. I know what not to answer." The waitress came over.

"Another tea for me," Larry said.

"And three sides of bacon. Crispy." She turned to me.

"Tea sounds good. No food for me, thanks." When she was gone, Larry continued.

"Wallet and phone, please. This part isn't a test. I actually need to see them. That's how I vouch for you if you pass." I leaned forward to pull Nico's wallet out of my pocket and handed it over.

"I'll hold my phone up and swipe around through whatever apps you want, but sorry, man, not just handing you my phone." He didn't argue. He opened Nico's wallet, went back and forth between me and the driver's license, and then poked around at the other items stuffed in there, like credit cards, a few old receipts, and a couple dollars in cash.

"Hold your phone up." I did.

"Recent calls. Texts. Email. Show me the file explorer view. Okay, that's good. You can put that away." He gave me my wallet back too.

"Alright. After we finish eating, we're going for a run."

"Tonight?" I asked.

"Is that a problem?" McDouglas hadn't prepped me for this specifically. He did say to rely on being myself. If I were me, what would I do in this situation?

"Do you have the address?" I asked.

"Yes, but I'm not giving it to you."

"I'm sure you're good at this," I said carefully, "but if my life is on the line, I want to know what I'm getting into."

"A gate. It's pretty simple." Shaking my head, I replied, "That's not the part I'm worried about. If I'm going on a run, I scout the area ahead of time to make sure I'm not putting myself into a corner. Having an exit strategy prepared has saved my ass a few times, so I won't do this without one."

"I'm telling you it's safe."

"I don't think you're lying. I still need to see it for myself." A refill of tea and a heaping plate of bacon appeared between us. Before the waitress stepped away, Larry asked her to bring a to-go box to the table when she had a moment.

"What do you think of doomers crashing gates?" Larry asked. I wasn't sure if he was moving on from insisting we crash a gate tonight or if this was another angle of attack.

"Pisses me off."

"Why?"

"I grew up in one of those cults," I said.

"Some of the people are nice, but they're idiots. This bullshit they kicked up makes life harder than it needs to be, and I wish they'd give it up."

"That's a pretty personal detail to share."

"I don't think so. I also grew up poor. None of that narrows much down for you."

"Are you CDM? FBI? Police?"

"No." Larry nibbled a piece of bacon as he studied me. When the waitress delivered the box for his bacon and left the bill, he didn't look away. He packed the bacon, slapped some cash on the table, and said, "Let's take a look at your kit." Outside, I popped the trunk of Nico's car. I had to have one of the backseats folded down to fit the case for my bow.

"Open that," he said, pointing to the case. I slid the case far enough out of the trunk to pop the latches.

"Holy shit. How the fuck did you get that?"

"Saved up my mana crystals and got a good deal."

"That's pretty pricey for someone like us." I shrugged.

"I take this seriously. This investment gets me more XP and money in the long run, and it's cheaper than replacing piece-of-shit bows every other run." Larry rummaged around the armor, seeming to pay extra close attention to the damage and wear.

"Okay, you can close it up." Relatching the case, I slid it back in place and shut the trunk.

"If you hear from me, that means you earned an audition." Larry spun on his heel, got into a minivan, and drove away. When I got into Nico's car and put the key in the ignition, the stress of that encounter hit me all at once. I had to rest my head on the steering wheel and focus on my breathing for a few minutes to keep from passing out. Everything that just transpired was like one long out-of-body experience, like I watched someone playing me in a movie.

I didn't think Larry would kill me in the middle of a Denny's, but getting this right counted for so much. If Larry let me in, I was a step closer to justice for Jonathan, and the CDM could get the intel it needed to better understand how big the CKer problem really was.

My professional aspirations were a factor in my motivation as well, and I'd be lying if I acted like that suddenly wasn't important to me, but that felt more like using my resources for Jonathan's and Beth's benefits rather than using Jonathan's death for my own gain. This was meaningful work, and as scary as it was, I liked it. A lot.