Games, Ghouls, and Waffles (The Diner of the Dead Series Book 19)

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “I did just eat, but I always have room for a donut.” Cass reached out and grabbed one, biting into its sugary sweetness.

  “What’s in the little bag?” Sonja asked, having a good idea of what it may be.

  “I’m not sure I have all the correct ones, but it’s my dice set,” she announced, undoing the string and pouring its contents out on the table. There was an assortment of six-sided dice in various sizes and colors and one larger twenty-sided die. “I mostly went through Aunt Pan’s old dusty attic and pulled any dice I could find out of old board games and stuff.”

  “What about this?” Sonja asked, pointing at the twenty-sided die. It was a strange looking item with roman numerals instead of proper numbers.

  “Oh, I bought that at a local antique store. It’s made out of stone,” she smiled, picking it up between her index finger and thumb and holding it to the light. “Pretty neat huh?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it. It looks handcrafted.”

  “Probably is,” Cass said, setting it down.

  Sonja was about to ask what which antique store she had found the dice at when Cass interrupted. “Do you have anything to drink?”

  “Oh, of course,” Sonja said, standing up. She had coffee for herself, but hadn’t thought to get anything for Cass. “What would you like?”

  “Whatever you’re having is fine.”

  “You drink coffee?”

  Cass half-smiled, a little embarrassed. “Only every morning.”

  “Very well. Coffee it is.” Sonja picked up the carafe from nearby and poured another mug full, setting it in front of the teenage girl.

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  “Now, how do we do this?” Cass asked, sipping from the mug.

  “Well, first of all, you have to think of what kind of character you want to play. Do you know much about the different types of races and classes that exist in this game?”

  “A little bit, yeah,” she acknowledged, taking another bite of the donut, bits of pink frosting flaking off the top. Even hours after being cooked, the donuts were delicious. “I was kind of thinking of that old TV show, the one about the warrior queen.”

  “Shiva the Warrior?” A small part of Sonja resented Cass calling that TV show old since it was something Sonja had watched when she was in middle and high school, but time was all a matter of perspective. To someone as young as Cass, Shiva probably did seem old.

  “That’s the one. I always loved that show. I want to make a character like that.”

  Sonja nodded her approval at this choice. “Then, most likely you’ll want to pick the Barbaric class.”

  “Ooh, sounds exciting,” Cass said with all the thrill of a kid seeing a toy store for the first time.

  “It’s a good class for your first time playing. You’ll be fairly strong right out of the gate.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  From there on, Sonja carefully guided the young woman through the somewhat lengthy process of creating a character. They rolled dice, did math, and wrote down a lot of numbers representing different elements such as strength, dexterity, health, and much more.

  Cass named her character Red (and gave her red hair to match) and added chainmail armor, leather boots, spiked gauntlets, and a long broadsword. After about two and a half hours—as well as a full plate of donuts and three cups of coffee each—they were done.

  It was nearly nine and the diner was empty of patrons which caused an eerie hush over the room. The quiet rumble of distant thunder accompanied by the pounding rain on the diner’s metal siding pervaded the air. The quite clink of dishes being washed in the backroom was the only other noise.

  “And that’s it. You’re ready for Friday,” Sonja informed Cass, handing over the completed character sheet after closely inspecting it for mistakes.

  “Awesome,” Cass replied, examining the list of words and numbers on the paper, all the while imagining the fantastic character in her mind. “That took a long time.”

  Sonja shrugged. “It’s a pretty complicated game, but once you have the hang of it, you’ll be able to make a character in less time.”

  “But we didn’t use my twenty-sided die,” Cass pointed out.

  “That’s because character creation only needs six-sided dice, but the core mechanic when we actually play the game will use your twenty-sided die.”

  “Oh, I see. How does it work?” Cass asked.

  “Well, for example, let’s say that your character was facing off against a gang of road bandits. They stop you as you are walking along. What would you do?”

  “I guess I would fight them,” Cass shrugged.

  “Right. So, what kind of attack would you do?”

  “I think I would go after the closest one with my sword.”

  Sonja pointed at the twenty-sided die. “Right, so you would use that, roll it to see if you hit them with the sword.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “You add whatever you roll to your strength number, and that’s your total. If it beats the difficulty level of the enemy, you managed to hit them.”

  “Okay, I think I get it,” Cass said, picking up the die and rolling it about in her hand. She glanced at her paper. “My strength is at seven.”

  “Right, now roll and add the two numbers together.”

  Cass released the die from her hand, and it thudded to the table like a piece of lead.

  At the same moment, a clap of thunder echoed around them like a roaring dragon, shaking the diner at its core. The lights flickered and then disappeared into darkness. Cass let out a squeak of fright and Vic, still in the kitchen doing cleanup, yelled out a distant, “Hey.”

  In the dim light, Sonja saw the roman numerals on the die glowing like fire.

  CHAPTER 5

  * * *

  When Sonja looked again, the die looked normal—just a dark shape sitting there on the table. Had she really seen it glowing? Was it even possible?

  She wondered if her constant exposure to the realm of the supernatural was causing her to jump at shadows and see things. On the other hand, she never wanted to discount a potential paranormal experience. If something had occurred and she ignored it, she could be overlooking a distinct warning.

  “The power’s out,” Vic called from the kitchen.

  Deciding to not worry about what she’d seen on the die, Sonja stood up. “I better check the breakers out back.”

  “You’re leaving?” Cass whispered.

  “It’s just a power outage. It could very well be something I can’t even fix,” she admitted. Usually, when the power went out like this she was forced to just wait around until the power company got the lines back up and running. Of course, on occasion, one or more of the breakers needed to be turned back on. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I-I should be going anyway,” Cass said, standing up as well.

  “Okay, but if you wait just a few minutes I can give you a ride,” Sonja offered. If there was lightning close enough to knock out the power, she didn’t want Cass walking home out in the storm. It was easy enough to give her a ride rather than getting Pan to come pick her up.

  “If you don’t mind.”

  “It’s not problem, really. Just wait here.” Sonja held up both hands instructing her to stay put as she moved toward the kitchen.

  “Think you can fix it?” Vic asked as Sonja stepped through the swinging door. She could barely see him in the darkness.

  “If not, then you’ll just have to go home early I think. No use trying to do dishes in the dark.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Grabbing her leather coat off the hook near the door as well as the emergency lantern they kept on the shelf, Sonja opened the door. Instantly, she was hit with a heady gust of wind and rain, nearly pushing her off her feet. “Woah!” Bracing herself on the door handle, she pushed out into the downpour.

  It only took an instant to get completely soaked through to the skin, even in the l
eather covering. This storm was getting ridiculous. It was so uncharacteristic for the region. Colorado, as a high plains desert, was not known for its heavy rains. It didn’t even have an official monsoon season like other desert areas in the United States.

  Moving slowly along the backside of the building, clinging to the wall for some semblance of balance and protection, Sonja reached the large electrical box.

  Pulling the latch, she swung the cover open and hung up the electric lantern to illuminate the interior. Sure enough, all the switches were in the proper ON position. There was nothing Sonja could do about the outage.

  “Shoot,” she muttered, shutting the panel. Turning to glance up the steep incline behind the diner, she tried to see any of the rural houses situated throughout the wooded area. All that was visible was darkness upon darkness.

  If there were no lights from the mountainside, that meant that power was out everywhere, at least on this side of Haunted Falls. If visibility was really this bad, Sonja wasn’t so sure driving anywhere was a wise idea, even if it was only a few blocks.

  She decided that it was best if everyone currently at the diner—herself, Cass, and Vic—waited out the brunt of the storm.

  Preparing to turn around and head back inside, she paused when she spotted a shape moving among the thick curtain of rain and darkness. If she wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn it looked like a person.

  Maybe they’d gotten caught in the storm. If that was the case, she felt responsible for bringing them to the diner for shelter. There was no way someone should have to be out in that mess.

  “Is someone there?” she called.

  The strange shape stopped moving, shifting in a way that made Sonja believe they were looking at her.

  “Are you lost?” she asked, shouting over the storm.

  The person didn’t respond and just went on staring—if they were in fact staring. Sonja couldn’t rightly tell.

  “Do you need help? You can come into the diner for shelter,” she cried again, trying to get the person to respond.

  This time, the figure slowly moved toward Sonja.

  The first thing she noticed was just how tall the person appeared to be—standing at nearly seven feet. The sheer effect of the figure’s appearance caught Sonja’s breath.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  Holding up the lantern, Sonja watched carefully as the towering person came into the dim illumination. In an instant, the diner owner felt her heart pounding in her throat and her mouth go dry with fear.

  Rain poured over the mighty shoulders and soaked the long fiery red hair atop the strange woman’s head. Muddy leather boots adorned the feet, and the rest of the body was clothed in chainmail armor.

  In her hand, she held a long sword. Shocked to silence, Sonja stumbled backward toward the door of the diner, desperate to get away from the hulking woman.

  She wasn’t fast enough. The woman, an almost exact recreation of the same imaginary character Cass had created, raised her sword and swung at Sonja.

  Letting out a scream, she threw up her hands and waited for the pain to hit her.

  CHAPTER 6

  * * *

  The pain never came. Sonja blinked a few times, realizing her eyes hurt slightly from how hard she had closed them. Glancing up, she realized the figure was gone—disappeared into thin air, or run off into the dark night.

  She also knew that the blade had either missed her . . . or gone through her completely without hurting her.

  She knew she had just encountered a spiritual entity of some sort, but why had it looked like the character Cass had made up for Wizards and Warlocks? Something seriously odd was going on here.

  Quickly pulling herself up, she stepped back inside the building and latched the door firmly shut.

  “Sonja?”

  “Power’s out all over,” she said, turning to Vic.

  “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

  Why did people always say that? It was true, after all, but she could hardly tell people that. “I’m fine, just a bit frazzled from being out there in the storm,” she lied. In reality, she was still shaking from her encounter.

  “I see. So, I guess I’ll be going then.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it,” she added her advice.

  The pudgy grill cook raised a confused eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  “The storm is really bad and visibility is almost non-existent. I’d feel more comfortable if you stayed here for the time being,” she admitted. Vic was Ally’s father-in-law and a longtime friend of Sonja’s family. She couldn’t stand to see him get in an accident in this storm.

  Sighing, he lifted his apron over his head and hung it on the hook. “Alright. If you say so, I’ll stay here. Just let me call the house so the wife knows where I’m at.”

  “Are phone lines up?” Sonja asked.

  “I’ll try my cell,” he offered.

  “Sonja?” came another voice from just outside the service window.

  “Cass, hey. It’s getting really bad out there and I think it’s best if the three of us just wait it out in here.”

  The teenage girl went slightly pale. “You mean, you want us all to stay here overnight?”

  “I’m sure the storm will be cleared up before that,” Sonja lied. She had no way of knowing when the storm would finally subside.

  “I’ll need to call my aunt.”

  “Do you have a cell phone?”

  She nodded.

  “Good, try that.” She walked over to the office and picked up the phone. “Yep, just as I thought, the land phone lines are down.”

  “I’m thinking we’re in it for the long haul,” Vic sighed, taking a seat on a nearby stool.

  * * *

  Cell reception was spotty at best, but luckily Cass and Vic managed to get through to their families and let them know the situation. Meanwhile, Sonja got together some snacks from the kitchen along with two more emergency lanterns and set up a little fort in the corner booth. She didn’t know how long the storm would last, especially considering it had been raining since the previous night, and wanted to make everyone as comfortable as possible.

  Cass seemed nervous, and Sonja felt partially responsible. She only wished she had some blankets or pillows to make things homier. As it was, they would just have to stick with snacks and lamps.

  A few minutes later, they were all sitting at the booth together, huddled against the rage of the storm outside. It was a strange and quiet moment that reminded Sonja of a similar situation a few months back when she and Alison had gotten stranded at a roadside station during a spring storm.

  Somehow, these late summer storms seemed far fiercer and more foreboding than those from the spring. It didn’t help that Sonja’s mind was focused on the hulking figure outside—the one with the sword.

  What concerned her most was why the figure had appeared. While Sonja was still learning the “supernatural ropes” there were still many things she was in the dark about. She knew that ghosts generally were the remnants of the dead, people whose spirits clung to the world of the living instead of moving on. There were also demons, spirits that had never had a body and simply remained in between worlds. Finally, there were the constructs, entities that were created by pure human emotion or another invisible energy that the living didn’t quite understand.

  Sonja was guessing that this spirit, the one outside, was some sort of construct. Constructs were also the most unstable and unpredictable. Sonja wasn’t sure, but wondered if this particular entity was somehow connected with the murder from the previous night.

  In order to exercise any kind of supernatural presence, Sonja usually first had to know its origin. So, where the heck had the sword wielding barbarian come from?

  Glancing across the table at Cass who sat quietly munching on a potato chip, she spotted the little dice bag sitting on the table. She instantly thought of the strange glowing she’d seen earlier when the young teenager had rolled the d
ie.

  That gave Sonja an idea. “Cass?”

  “Yeah?” she asked, looking up at the redheaded woman.

  “You said you got that twenty-sided die at an antique store?”

  She nodded slowly. “That’s right.”

  “Dice at an antique store? Who would have thought?” Vic interjected.

  Sonja ignored the side comment and continued with her questions. She was almost positive that this might be important—that the die may somehow relate to the specter outside. “What antique store was that?”

  Cass shrugged. “I’m not sure it had a name. There wasn’t a sign or anything, I don’t think.” It was clear that the open conversation was helping the teenager feel calmer about the current situation.

  Sonja pressed on. “Can you tell me where it is, exactly?”

  Cass raised an eyebrow.

  “Are you looking to pick something up?” Vic chimed in.

  “Just interested,” Sonja answered, unwilling to share the truth.

  “It was near the library where that open lot used to be,” Cass answered.

  Sonja’s stomach did a flip-flop inside her gut. It was exactly as she had thought, despite her desperate inward attempts to convince herself that it couldn’t be true. Back in January of that same year, Frank had bought her a necklace from an antique shop in town.

  The necklace had turned out to be cursed, granting the wearer the power to project their consciousness outside of their own body. When Sonja had asked Frank where he’d gotten the piece of jewelry, he had informed her that it was from a new antique shop near the library on Main Street.

  The scary part was, there was no such antique shop at all. When Sonja had gone to check, all she had found was an empty dirt lot where the place was supposed to be.

  Just as Sonja had originally assumed, this twenty-sided die likely had some sort of spiritual properties and was potentially responsible for the specter of the barbarian woman running around. Worse yet, Sonja couldn’t help but feel that this spirit was somehow involved in the murder of Cooper Rickerson.

  “Who was the shopkeeper who sold you the die?”