Orson

by David Delaney

  ORSON

  A Paragon Society Novel

  David Delaney

  Copyright © 2017 David Delaney

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanically, including photocopying and recording, taping or by any information retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of a brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For Stephen, Robert, Dean

  And of course Shelly

  CHAPTER 1

  I prepared myself for battle. Pulling my sword and raising my shield, I roared a challenge to all around me. I grabbed a strength elixir, alchemy magic giving a slight glow to the bottle, and swallowed its contents. I checked those around me, assuring they were prepared for the coming fight.

  "Remy!" I called. "Once we go through those doors, all Hell will break loose. Make sure you're in a safe position. We can't afford to lose you!"

  "Got it!" The little gnome leaped in the air in anticipation.

  "Is everyone ready? This is it! Everything that's come before has led us here." I wasn't shouting, but I was speaking louder than normal.

  "Calm down, Orson. We got this!" said Elyse.

  "Okay, then, let's do it. Elyse, blow the doors. Everyone attack the second they go down."

  Elyse, a busty female Elf with clingy purple robes that enhanced that particular asset, waved her hands in the air before her. After a short moment, blue light shot from the tips of her fingers and the large iron doors in front of her exploded inward.

  I was running even before the spell had finished its work – my giant broadsword and steel shield gleaming in the torchlight.

  Three massive Orcs were waiting just inside the door. I started swinging, making sure I grabbed the attention of all three. Elyse stood behind me, unleashing fire that set the Orcs ablaze. Arrows sprouted out of the enemies' bodies, just as Richard's large pet tiger smashed into the closest Orc, drawing it away. That left two for me. No problem. All I needed was a little healing help from Remy and these guys were dead.

  "Remy? Some heals please!"

  Nothing happened. The Orcs were getting the upper hand.

  "Remy!?"

  I risked a look back through the doors. Remy was just standing there, like a statue — a little, stupid, gnome statue.

  "Remy! What are you doing? We're dying here."

  "I'm dead!" Elyse shouted.

  I checked my other friends. Richard's tiger was dead, and the Orc had gone to work on Richard himself, who was trying to freeze the big, green, ugly thing with an ice trap. Elyse's body was lying to the left of the door. Alec, who had some healing ability, was trying desperately to keep Richard and me alive, but he didn't have enough power to save us both. Realizing this, he poured everything he had left into me. I gave the Orcs everything I had. Every move, every ability, years of experience, and muscle memory came into play.

  It wasn't enough.

  I downed one of the remaining Orcs, but his comrade took me out with a crushing blow from his massive spiked mace. I fell, and Richard and Alec went down seconds later. They didn't stand a chance with the armor they were wearing.

  "Well, that sucked!" I shouted into my headset. "Remy, where the hell are you?"

  Just then, Remy's gnome unfroze, and he jumped toward the doors. The Orc turned and smashed him once, twice – and on the third blow, the gnome fell over dead.

  "Sorry, guys," Remy apologized. "My game froze. I think my connection is messed up."

  "Dude, I thought you were getting a new provider. That cable modem crap you have blows," said Elyse.

  "They're supposed to come out tomorrow," Remy replied. "Can we try again?"

  "I'm up for it." Alec chimed in.

  "It might be nice and sunny in the land of kangaroos and crocodiles, Alec," I said, "but, it's two am here. I need to get some sleep. Got class tomorrow,"

  "Yeah, me too," said Elyse.

  "So, we're calling it for now?" Richard asked.

  "Yeah. We can try again later this week. After Remy gets his fracking Internet fixed," I said.

  "I hear you, man," said Remy. "Sorry again, guys."

  "No worries, mate," said Alec. "I'm going to switch over to my Pally and level him some more. 'Night, everyone."

  "'Night, Alec," Elyse replied.

  The rest of us said goodbye and logged out of the game. I grabbed my phone and texted Elyse.

  lunch tomorrow?

  sure. when, where?

  i've got Calc until 12:45. how about Taco John's at 1:15?

  i'll see you there - nite

  nite

  I plugged the phone in and collapsed onto my bed. I replayed the last fight in my head. Even if Remy's internet connection wasn't total crap, we might have been in over our heads. The orcs shouldn't be a problem, but the boss – a dragon – had a couple of attacks that might give us trouble. I'd have to check YouTube again to make sure I knew exactly what my job as the Tank was.

  I rolled over and could see the half-moon just setting. Yeah, it was seriously late. I needed some sleep. I started the breathing exercise Aunt Tina had taught me, and the next thing I knew, my alarm clock was going off.

  Oh, man, I was beat. I had sworn off the late night dungeon runs more times than I could count, but my resolve never lasted longer than two weeks.

  Loser.

  I pulled myself out of bed. I went through a couple of yoga hassanas that are supposed to energize the body, but I couldn't counteract the lack of REM sleep I'd afflicted my body with regularly.

  I dragged myself into the shower, and the hot water did what the yoga couldn't. I soaked, probably longer than I should have, as water is a premium resource in Southern California. We never seem to have enough of it, and people keep moving to the State. I don't blame them, as the year-round sunshine is hard to beat. I dressed fast. It's easy when you wear the same thing every day: t-shirt, jeans or shorts, and a pair of beat-up Vans.

  I love California.

  But, I think I may have used the wrong temperature the last time I washed a load of darks, because my jeans seemed a bit snug, it was an effort to get the fly buttoned. Good thing denim stretches.

  I ran a comb through my hair, I would need a haircut soon, it was getting bushy. I'd inherited what my aunt called the Reid family hair curse - thick curls that were more than a match for any brush designed by us silly humans. But, according to Elyse there were women who would kill for the honey blond color I'd taken for granted my entire life. My opinion was hair was hair and so I just let mine do what it did naturally, lucky for me the "messy look" was an actual hairstyle.

  I stared in the mirror, my grey eyes were bloodshot from my late night video game addiction. I rummaged around under the sink looking for the eye drops. I knew there was a bottle somewhere in the bathroom. Frustrated, I stood up, my eyes were in serious need of lubrication, and then I spotted the small bottle sitting on top of the towel cabinet. Ah-ha. The relief was instant, I was enjoying the soothing moisture so much that my brain didn't even register the fact that I had been able to see the top of the towel cabinet without standing on my toes, something that should be impossible.

  I hopped down the stairs, two at a time. The house my Aunt Tina and I live in isn't huge. It's what I call a SoCal mini-Craftsman. The coolness of the Craftsman style, lots of wood trim and leaded windows, but on a much smaller scale than the big houses over in Pasadena. We live in a city I call Pasadena adjacent, a place called Sierra Madre. The weird thing about Southe
rn California is that it's basically one giant city. You can roll from L.A. to Burbank, to Sierra Madre, to Pasadena and points beyond, and unless you're a local, you wouldn't know where one city limit ends and the next begins. Lots of houses, lots of people, and too many cars, but still an awesome lifestyle. The beach is about thirty minutes away, and when I'm not in class or glued to my computer screen on a dungeon run with my guild, that's where I spend most of my time.

  If you can do it in the water, I love it. Surfing, sailing, free diving, scuba diving – you name it, I've tried it or I am actively involved in it. My Aunt Tina teases I'm part fish or mermaid – or is that merman? I prefer to think of myself as the Sub-Mariner from Marvel Comics. I know, he was sometimes a bad guy, but come on, he is way cooler than Aquaman.

  The house was quiet. Aunt Tina must have already left for work. I found a note on my laptop bag.

  Working late tonight. Final push on the Cereal campaign. If you order takeout, please get me some of whatever you pick up. Loves.

  I smiled.

  Aunt Tina is my mom's sister, but she is more like a second mom. My mom, Nancy Reid - Capricorn, is what passes for a hippie in 2017. I have never doubted her love for me, but she was just never good at the responsible adult things parents need to be good at so their kids don't grow up to be psychopaths. My mom and I lived all over the U.S. for the first eight years of my life. She was responsible enough to homeschool me, or at least find someone to help her homeschool me. For my eighth birthday, she decided she would take me to Disneyland, which meant a trip across country to Aunt Tina's house. We ran out of money around Flagstaff, Arizona but Aunt Tina drove out to get us. It wasn't so bad. I got to see the Grand Canyon.

  After two weeks of crashing at Aunt Tina's, my mom's wanderlust kicked in again. She had heard about this "amazing" commune in Baja Mexico. My Aunt Tina put her foot down, and they had a knockdown, drag out fight over responsibility and me. In the end, I waved goodbye as my mom left on a Greyhound Bus bound for the border. I missed her, but life with Aunt Tina was normal. I could attend a real school and make friends that I wouldn't have to say goodbye to in a month or two.

  That had been twelve years ago. I was now in college. I had been accepted to UCLA, but I was taking a few General Ed. classes at Pasadena City College, to get a jump on freshman year. And if I didn't get a move on, I would be late for class. I pulled out my phone and set a reminder to order dinner from Aunt Tina's favorite Indian restaurant. I grabbed my keys and laptop bag and headed out the door.

  I drive an ancient, but very loved, Toyota Corolla. I plopped into the driver's seat and fired up the engine. As I pulled out, I had to readjust my rearview mirror.

  Odd.

  The only time I need to readjust the mirror is after Elyse has driven the car somewhere, but that's an adjustment down, since she's a couple of inches taller than me. She's a volleyball superstar who stands at six one, while I suffer away at the average height of five ten. This was an adjustment up, just a fraction, as if someone shorter than me had been in the driver's seat. I must've bumped it and not realized. Oh, well. I plugged my phone in and cranked up my iTunes. Calculus, I am your master.

  Pasadena City College is about a twenty-minute drive from my house. I turned it into a thirty-five minute drive, because I stopped for a Red Bull and package of Hostess donuts — the breakfast of college students everywhere. Even with my detour, I still made it to class on time. I'm a computer science major, so calculus is kind of like studying Shakespeare if you're an English Lit major. Calculus is the basis of algorithms, and algorithms are what make the tech world spin. Ever searched for anything on Google, or Amazon? Ever tried to find an old post from your grandma on Facebook? Then you are an algorithm junkie. They are the building blocks behind just about everything we do online. And it was my goal to make algorithms my bitch.

  "Did you understand the assignment?" Mark whispered.

  Mark Becker: not a bad guy, horrible at math, but he wanted to go pre-med and so needed Calculus.

  I cocked my head and spoke out of the side of my mouth, trying to avoid annoying Ms. Hale, as she explained how the midterm would work. "Why didn't you call me yesterday if you were having problems?" I whispered.

  "I spent the day with Christy and by 'I spent the day,' I mean I. Spent. The. Day."

  "Dude, please. I do not need or want to hear the details of your gross sex life."

  Ms. Hale made eye contact with us, and we shut up. The rest of the class flew by. I'm a bit of a nerd and had peeked at a few upcoming chapters, so most everything was a review and a confirmation I had grasped the new concepts.

  Ms. Hale reminded us of an extra credit seminar being held the following day. The guest speakers were two former Google employees. I was so going to be there. I bent over to shove my textbook and notes in my bag, when I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. Someone was about to knee me in the head. I fell back, arms up to protect my face, but there was nobody near me. Two desks over, Mark was talking to Amber - I think that was her name - she had short blond hair and long legs and he had her giggling, but he looked over at my sudden movement.

  "Jumpy today?"

  "Too much Red Bull, I think," I answered.

  I took a couple of deep breaths and stretched my arms out. Maybe it was too much Red Bull. I fist bumped Mark, smiled at maybe-Amber, and headed out for my lunch date with Elyse.

  CHAPTER 2

  Taco John's is small hole in the wall in the corner of a strip mall. It was owned and run by the Goncalves family — grandma, mom, dad, and two twin sons. They've been serving up tacos and burritos for longer than I've been alive. It wasn't in the most glamorous location and it didn't have the fanciest décor, but the food was top-notch. The proof of my statement was the constant out the door lines. Getting one of the five tables was like winning the lottery, and so Elyse and I always got our food to go and ate in my car.

  "How was Calc?" Elyse asked.

  "Awesome. Or, to be more precise, I should say my continuing mastery of Calculus is awesome."

  "Glad to see your humility is still in check."

  "What did you have today? Art History?"

  "Yeah. Had to turn in a paper on the Renaissance."

  I finished the second of my two usual shredded chicken tacos with extra guacamole, and I was still feeling hungry. I eyed Elyse's half eaten carnitas burrito.

  "You going to finish your burrito?" I asked.

  She snatched it up and held it close to her chest. "Yes, Mr. Eat too fast."

  I looked at the line: a fifteen-minute wait at least. I dug into my laptop bag and found a granola bar and some turkey jerky. It would have to do.

  I tore open the jerky and dug in.

  Elyse took a long pull on her soda, let out a sigh, placed her burrito down, and looked into my eyes.

  Uh oh. I stopped mid-chew, my mouth full of jerky. "What?" I asked.

  I was almost one hundred percent certain what her next words would be. I tried to swallow the jerky too quickly and had to take two large swallows of my soda to get it down.

  "Are we going to talk about Saturday? Or are we going to continue to avoid the subject?" she asked.

  She was still staring directly into my eyes and no matter how much I wanted to I couldn't look away.

  "Uh, yeah. I guess we should," I replied.

  I had met Elyse when I was thirteen. She and her family had moved to town from Northern California – like way north, almost to the Oregon border. She had been the new, really tall, girl in an eighth grade class of about three hundred students. I first spotted her at lunch; it was hard not to, as she was a head taller than all the other girls and most of the boys. She had long auburn hair - she had to tell me it was that color later. I would've just gone with reddish brown. She wore it in a ponytail. She had a great tan, and that's what piqued my interest. A tan like that meant she spent lots of time outdoors, maybe at the beach, and I was always looking for more beach buddies, especially if their parents didn
't mind driving. Aunt Tina was great about getting out on the weekends, but it never hurt to have back up contingencies.

  I was pleasantly surprised when I showed up for fifth period Biology and she was there looking for an open seat. I introduced myself, pointed her toward two available seats, and that was that. We became fast friends, and over the awkward teenage years, we became best friends.

  That's why, sitting here in my Corolla, trying not to burp up jerky and chicken tacos, I had started to sweat - just a bit. Saturday had been one of those perfect SoCal days. Elyse and I had met up with a group of friends at the beach and surfed all day. The waves had been epic. We grabbed lunch off one of those fancy food trucks. In the late afternoon, Elyse and Stacey, one of her volleyball teammates, challenged a couple of guys to a beach volleyball game and completely annihilated them. I cheered myself hoarse.

  As the day wound down, we got invited to a house party up in the hills above the coast. The view was amazing. Elyse and I sat on a low stone wall and watched the sun sink into the Pacific. It really was perfect. I'm not sure what it was, maybe just a combination of being in the sun all day, drinking a couple of beers at the party and the gorgeous sunset, but I leaned over as casually as I could and kissed her, and she kissed me back. We stopped for a second; both of us shocked and then we just went at it.

  We couldn't kiss long enough or hard enough. Our bodies couldn't be pressed into each other enough. Fingers twined through hair, necks were bitten, lips nibbled. It was the single greatest make-out session I had ever had, and it had been with my best friend.

  Elyse was still staring at me. Her big, amazing, caramel-colored eyes felt like they were staring directly into my brain. I was sure she could hear my every thought. And all I wanted to do was kiss her again. All I've wanted to do since Saturday night was kiss her. Forget eating or sleeping. I wanted to lose myself in her again, to prove to myself that it wasn't the sun or the beer or getting caught up in the moment. To show her it had meant something, still meant something, everything, to me.