PWNED: A Gamers Novel

by Matt Vancil

logo vanished from Noob’s tabard, leaving it a flat slate gray. disappeared from under his name, leading him as he’d started—just another Noob. He looked up at his former guildmates. “Jodie, I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t get to call me that. Nobody gets to call me that.”

  Bandaid laid a hand on Yanker’s shoulder. “We don’t have to do this here.”

  “I want you out the game. Like you promised, remember? ‘Help me with this one thing and you’ll never see me again.’ I’m calling that in.

  “Okay.” You never have seen me. “I just have something to give you first.”

  “I don’t want anything from you.”

  “You’ll want this. You earned it.”

  He opened a trade window and made it public in the common room—the Godsword, visible to everyone. Jodie caught her breath.

  The guild stared. Incredulous mutters filled the chat channel: my god, there it is, it’s on our server, the Godsword’s in the inn, Roaring Hearth not Drunkfucker’s.

  “I thought you…” Jodie trailed off. Reid couldn’t tell what was winning the war for her voice: delight, anger, fear. Something he couldn’t place. “I thought you needed that.”

  “Yeah, well. What we think we need… I’ll find some other way.”

  “You’re serious?” Hope. That’s what it was.

  “It’s yours,” said Reid. “And I’ll still leave the game. If that’s what you want.”

  Bandaid scoffed. “Oh, you idiot.”

  “What I want?” said Yanker. “Seriously, mate. How thick are—?”

  The screen froze.

  The game kicked Reid to the login screen, where a message read: You have been disconnected.

  “Oh, come on!” Reid tried logging back in. Nothing happened. He checked his account name, entered the password again.

  Another message popped up: Someone else has logged in to that account.

  Reid paled. “Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no.”

  A crowd had gathered around Noob’s open trade window, gaping at the Godsword. Some reached for it, but the only one who could touch it was the one it had been opened for—Yanker. Mansex elbowed her, and she reached for the blade.

  The window abruptly closed. Yanker blinked at Noob. “Don’t tell me you’re changing your mind again.”

  Noob smirked. He skipped to the mailbox in the corner of the inn and dropped the Godsword in. It vanished to a collective gasp from the crowd.

  “Did you…” Yanker’s shoulders drooped. “Did you just mail it to me?”

  Noob shook his head. Then he saluted the guild and gave Yanker the middle finger.

  “You fucking wanker!” Yanker erupted. “Ninja bastard! What’s wrong with you?”

  She fell silent as the name above Noob’s head switched from blue to red. He’d entered PVP mode.

  “Hear ye, hear ye!” The Town Crier stepped into the inn, mechanically clanging his bell. “The spirit of the First God has been laid to rest!”

  Noob backstabbed the Crier. He squealed, pitched forward, and landed dead on his bell.

  The assembled players gaped at Noob. He vanished into stealth.

  Reid’s computer had just rebooted from a restart. He tried logging in again and got the same message: Someone else is logged in to that account.

  “No!” He smacked his computer. “It’s not me!”

  Bandaid shrieked and died, Noob’s blade in her back. The action broke his stealth. Before anyone could act, Noob leapt onto Mansex and dragged her to the ground with a garotte.

  Mansex got off a couple of fireballs that set the ceiling on fire before Noob hurled the still gurgling mage into the fireplace. She ignited with a mighty whoosh.

  Yanker unslung her bow, drew. Noob vanished.

  Behind Yanker, a lowbie screamed, cut in half. Noob didn’t reappear—the lowbie had been too low-level to break his stealth. Another onlooker’s throat opened ear to ear.

  Yanker drew a glitter-tipped arrow and fired it into the ceiling. A shower of sparkles coated everything in the room with golden dust—including the translucent shape now hurtling straight for her. She didn’t have time to drop her bow before Noob stabbed her in the heart.

  “Fucking come. On.” Boy Howdy customer service was busy, and Reid was running out of carpet to pace.

  An email landed in Reid’s inbox. Not his work email, but in the personal account he kept minimized on his desktop. It was from a Boy Howdy account, something about account security. “Oh, thank God.”

  Reid threw himself in the chair, opened it. He skimmed down a page of boilerplate blah blah to a link that said “Restore Account” and clicked it.

  The computer froze. He clicked the mouse a couple times, but couldn’t move the cursor. “What now?”

  A browser tab opened to a website he didn’t recognize. Then he did, and ice stabbed his spine. It was the guild forums.

  Specifically, it was a new discussion topic called “For Noob.” There was a single post in it. That post read: God, you’re fucking dumb.

  That’s when Reid noticed a confirmation prompt on his screen: “Are you sure you want to delete all files on Drive C?”

  Reid clicked no. Or tried to. The cursor wasn’t moving for him. But it was moving—towards yes.

  “Oh, shit.” Someone had taken remote control of his desktop. Reid dove under the computer and yanked the plug.

  But not fast enough. When he’d logged back in, his work—and the Englebrook-Meyer return—were gone.

  Reid didn’t quite remember hurling the computer into the wall. But he’d never forget the look of shock on Habermann’s face, or the surprised gaggle of glowering old guys his boss had just led into the break room.

  “Ah,” said Habermann. He seemed to deflate. “This…” He opened and closed his mouth a few times before gesturing feebly to Reid. “This is the talented young man I was telling you about who… singlehandedly managed… the Englebrook-Meyer….” He trailed off. Habermann swallowed. “Say hello to the Board, Reid.”

  The cold-faced men did not seem impressed. And that was before one of the Board members noticed Reid’s copy of Fartherall Online.

  A half hour later, the six unpaid interns were polishing their resumes as Reid carried a box of belongings into the parking lot.

  13

  Antagonist

  TIP: If you’re having trouble completing a quest, you might be too low level. Try again when you have more experience!

  Reid fell asleep on the sofa next to his box of office trinkets. He dreamed the mouse magnets had come to life and were making out on the floor. He shouted at them to be quiet and not rub his face in it, but the boy mouse just shot him an annoyed look and said “Hey, asshole, I know what I want,” before resuming mousey smooches.

  A knock woke him up. Zombie-eyed, he trudged to the door and yanked it open.

  It was Astrid. She had her keys in her hand as if she hadn’t decided whether to bolt or not. “Hey,” she said. “I heard what happened. You okay?”

  “Hey,” he said, for the purpose of having something to say. “I’m, uh… not great.” He ground his palms into his eyes and rubbed. She was still there afterward. “Sorry. It’s just, I’ve kinda hallucinated something very similar to this.”

  “What?”

  “What are you doing here, Astrid?”

  “I wanted to check on you.”

  “Sorry, no, I... How are you?”

  She smiled. “Good,” she said. “Really good, actually.” She looked it. She had a light in her eyes he hadn’t seen for a while. A couple years at least.

  “Good,” he repeated. “That’s good, yeah. And, uh… where have you—?”

  “Yes! Bellingham. Should have said.” She nodded a few times. “I’ve been staying at Stacy’s. She had a roommate move out last semester so there was a couch to crash on.”

  “Stacey…” He couldn’t quite place the name.

  “From TCC, before I… well.” She had dropped out, a coup
le months after she’d started playing.

  “Stacey. I think I remember her”

  “She’s been studying for her masters in hospitality.” The smile came back. “At Western.”

  “Cool,” said Reid.

  Astrid still hadn’t come in. Reid stepped out of the doorframe, gestured into the apartment, in case she was waiting for permission. She didn’t move. She kind of flinched, actually.

  “I’m sorry about the sword,” she blurted.

  “What?”

  “Greef. He was bragging about it. In guild chat, where everyone could hear it.”

  “… What?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Of course. You live here.” He waved her in and sat on the couch. She noticed the box of his office stuff, and her eyes widened.

  “Oh, shit. He did get you fired.”

  “No. Just unpaid leave.”

  Habermann had only taken him aside for a few minutes, but it had felt like hours. The boss he’d always assumed hated him was blinking back tears when he stammered how he’d let Reid down, how he should have found some way to let him know about the test. But that’s how the Board looked for leadership candidates: give an impossible task, an unfair one, and see how they’d act. Do they complain? Cheat? Quit? He had been bringing the Board in to show Reid off when snapped and launched his computer into the wall. He’d chucked any chance of advancement with it. All the Board had seen was a tantrum from a brat playing video games at work.

  His boss had saved his job, but it would be another year or two until Habermann could retire now. Another year or two to find another successor. Reid would have been less ashamed if Habermann had fired him outright.

  “Did you know,” he asked Astrid, “that Habermann liked me? Like, was grooming me for a promotion?”

  She blinked. “Yes. Not about the promotion thing—that’s awesome—but… He adored you. You were like… mini-him. You never picked up on that?”

  Reid looked at the floor. “I’m pretty bad at picking up what’s going on.”

  Astrid grunted.

  “So you’re a Wicked?”

  She sighed, covered her face with a hand. “I’m their main healer. I started that damn guild.”

  Reed remembered the figure in the woods, back on the first day. R-something. “You were in the woods when Greef jumped Yanker.”

  “Yeah, that was… God.” She shook her head. “I don’t even… He’s such an asshole. I don’t know if he thinks that shit actually impresses me, or if he’s just trying to rub my nose in it.”

  “What?”

  “It used to be my guild,” she said. “But then I did what you do when you want to run raids—I recruited. And after I went dead in the middle of the Godsword run, he convinced them I wasn’t competent enough to run the guild. That night in the woods? I was trying to get away from him, but he insisted on following me, on escorting me. For my own protection. Jesus, dude, I can auto heal and stone bubble, I don’t need your help.”

  “He killed Yanker.”

  “Yeah. I didn’t know you were the noob he was camping. I can’t stand that fucker.”

  “Then why—”

  “Because it’s my guild.” Her eyes were burning. “Sorry. You wouldn’t understand.”

  Guilt stabbed him over and over. He wondered what was up to. “I’m sorry.”

  She waved that away. “Wickeds… they’re mostly okay, really. I mean yeah, we’re at war, but still… he’s fucking guildmaster now. I’ve only been sticking around to get him voted out, but he convinced everyone we were gonna find the Godsword, and then we did.”

  “We did,” said Reid. “He stole it from me.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “He’s an admin. It’s how he knows where to find all those fucking mods, and of course everyone just goes along with it, since they’re playing to win.”

  She stopped and ran a hand through her hair. “He tried to give it to me,” she said. “In public. He’s always doing that shit. Offers me the best loot, the rarest drops, over guild chat so everyone can fucking hear, and then gets pissy when I repeat that I’m not. Interested. Like he wants me to fucking owe him something.” She shook her head in disgust. “We never should have moved to GuildSpeak. I could’ve kept pretending I was a guy. Fuck.”

  Reid was reeling. “I had no idea.”

  “Yeah, well…” She crossed her arms, leaned against the bookshelf.

  “I thought you liked the game.”

  “I love it. There’s just a heavy of infusion of assholes in there.”

  “You spent more time in there than here.”

  She clenched her jaw. “It felt safe to say things there, you know? To people you never have to meet. To vent. About stuff. About you.”

  “I… yeah.”

  “He said he was saving me from my asshole stalker ex.” She couldn’t look at him. “I didn’t even know you were playing.”

  “We were chatting, though,” said Reid. “Night of the Godsword, you and me. I told you how to get past the Titans.”

  “Yeah. I thought maybe if I could get them to the Godsword—fuck.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah.”

  Reid sighed. “Could we talk about something happy?”

  She nodded. “Okay. Like what?”

  “Well…” She’d come home. He should be ecstatic. “Hey! You’re back. That’s good, right?”

  She didn’t change expression.

  Something dawned on Reid. “You’re not, though. Are you?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’ve been sitting in on some classes. With Stacey. They’re really… I’m…” She turned her head, but she couldn’t hide the smile. “I enrolled. I start this fall. I’m going back to school.”

  “Wow. That’s great. For hospitality?” She nodded. “Going for your extreme B&B?”

  “Maybe?” she said. “I don’t know. But it feels right. And if I don’t have to worry about rent for this place, I can afford classes and the room at Stacey’s. Dad can’t refuse to pay for anything that isn’t real estate if I’m paying for the whole fucking thing.” She beamed.

  Reid realized she hadn’t brought any bags with her. “You’re not coming back.”

  She flushed. “I haven’t really been here for a while.”

  Reid nodded. He was relieved that he felt glad for her. That would help him through the crying later. “If that’s what you want to be doing, then why’re you always playing?”

  “To get jerkface voted out.”

  “No,” said Reid. “I mean… before. Here.”

  Her face went taut. “It was easier than dealing with you.”

  Reid grunted. He didn’t think he could feel any sicker. “So why’d you stay with me?”

  “Because,” she said quietly, “you were my Boo-Bear.” Were. “You needed me. After your grandparents… You just stopped. You were just this lump of sadness. Nothing made you happy, nothing was good enough. I couldn’t take care of you and me. I fucking stopped going to school because it was too much. And after a while I was like ‘I need to get out of here, but I can’t,’ and the game was like a compromise. And you hated it, which made it better, so…” She trailed off.

  “I get it,” said Reid. “I didn’t just cut the cord. I cut your lifeline.”

  Her eyes were misting. “I tried to make it work,” she said. “God damn it.” She hated crying. “It’s just, I couldn’t, okay? And I couldn’t say anything because you think you’ll die if you’re alone, and I can’t have that shit on me.”

  You’ve got a good woman there, Frank had told him. You hold on to her. His wife had died, and then so had he. Without his mom, Reid’s dad might as well have been dead. This shit got imprinted deep, thought Reid.

  Astrid dug the tears out of her eyes and wiped her hands on her shirt. “Okay? I’m sorry.”

  Reid was crying too. “I…” He didn’t even know where to start. “I’m sorry I was holding you back. I should have known I was, but I
was just… I had no idea I was the bad guy.”

  “You’re not the bad guy,” she said. “Not really. Just a noob. Everyone sucks at first.”

  Reid blurted a laugh. “I’m a noob at a lot, I guess.”

  She grinned her lopsided grin. “Hey, so… if it’s cool, I’m gonna bring a truck down this weekend and get the rest of my stuff.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “If you need any help with… whatever, just—” He nodded. “Okay.” She clapped once, let out a long breath. “Starting to feel awkward now.”

  “Yeah. To make that worse, could I have my grandmother’s… ?”

  “Jesus! Yes, of course.” She dug for the ring in her pocket, which made it a little easier to accept—Reid couldn’t imagine how much it would’ve hurt to learn she’d still been wearing it.

  Reid didn’t even try to sleep that night. He stood on the apartment balcony and watched the cars pass until the streets were empty. He’d always been afraid of being alone. Now that he undeniably was, he found it kind of comforting. No one to disappoint but myself.

  The fog crept in sometime after midnight. It was slow and thick, like a rolling pea soup, and Reid followed it to Point Defiance. He hiked past the sentinel trees by memory, past the rose garden where he and Astrid had made love, down to the garden at the base of the cliff where the bioluminescent plankton had put on their show. The fog swallowed starlight and fog light and painted the world a blank gray again.

  He stood at the end the world, looked out on a blank gray canvas, and thought Well, this is some maudlin bullshit. It let him laugh at himself.

  Reid went home and slept better than he had in years.

  14

  Endgame

  TIP: Use of illegal modifications is prohibited. Violators are subject to bans and having their accounts deleted.

  The sunset painted Mirror Lake a vibrant orange and pink. A bobber splashed into the water and sent sorbet ripples along the surface.

  The Truth reeled his fishing line back to the shallows. On shore, Bandaid sat in meditation and tried to ignore Mansex’s erotic dancing in her face. “Stop dancing, whore.”

  “Die in a fire, prude.”