by Mike Thayer
“You’re such an idiot,” Noah said, turning to Adam and slapping him on the back of the head.
“Should we go after her?” I asked.
“Don’t look at me,” Freddie said. She was keeping it together, but she had just witnessed me completely blow our cover to Noah. I could only imagine the freak-out she was bottling up at the moment.
“I don’t think she has much more to tell us,” Zak said. “It looks like she honestly didn’t know about anyone else.”
I looked at Adam Sipherd, a mousy kid with scraggly brown hair, cower and rub the back of his head where Noah had slapped him. “I’m thinking we probably should have started with FancyPrance.”
“We try again on the next discar—” Zak barely caught himself. “On the next day? That is to say, tomorrow. Should we try tomorrow?”
“Nah,” I said. “Not when I’m on a roll.”
I looked up FancyPrance online and sent him the videos of him cheating with Noah.
Your turn … I’ve got videos of three more people. If you tell me the rest of the people helping Noah then I’ll give you eighty bucks. I’ll get the answers from someone else if you don’t help. Either way I will find out and only one way has YOU getting eighty bucks. Your move, FancyPrance. I’m only asking once.
I waited ten seconds and sighed when I read the answer.
Texcalibur, I seriously don’t know anyone’s name. I thought it was just me. I swear it. Please don’t send the videos. Noah will seriously not be my friend anymore.
You’re friends with a turd and you’ve been helping that turd cheat at the BBG and steal kids’ money for a long time. How much money does he give you and how does he give it to you?
He buys me different Champions Royale skins. I get really good stuff if I give him good items. He gives me cheaper items if I help him just a little, but it’s always worth it.
How did he first contact you about helping him cheat?
It was a long time ago. I almost beat him once and then he contacted me about how I could get a lot of cool skins. He doesn’t care about the money. He cares about being a legend. I’ve told you everything I know. Don’t send out the videos. Please, man.
“Skins?” Freddie growled. “He’s selling himself for skins? I should walk over there right now and—”
“You’ll get your chance, Freddie.” I reached over and patted her on the forearm. “At the Shoebox Game.”
I paused for a good while before I sent my final text.
The truth shall set you free!!!
I went to the Brown Bag Game forum, clicked SEND MESSAGE TO ALL and posted the videos with the message, There’s a new king in town. Riga and Prance didn’t cooperate, so now you know they’re cheaters, along with Noah. I’ve got A LOT more videos with a lot more people. If you don’t want to be exposed as a cheater, private message me immediately. If I don’t hear from you in five minutes, your video is going up next.
“Savage,” Zak said, shaking his head and glancing over at the gamers as they all read the message. Freddie pulled out her phone and checked the message as well with a look like she was trying to hold her pee after chugging a gallon of water. “But what are you going to do after five minutes if no one gets back to you and you have no videos to send out?”
I leaned over and whispered to Zak while Freddie read and reread the message. “Nothing. It’s a discard day, big guy. You gotta think by different rules. Usually it doesn’t make sense to shoot yourself through the leg to hit your target.” My phone dinged as two private messages popped into my inbox. “But it does on a discard day.”
CHAPTER 21
BE A BUDDY
(Discard Monday—Oct. 4th)
By the end of the school day, I’d been able to grow the list of confirmed cheaters from two to five. Only two had private messaged me, Regan Russell and Scott Brinton, but they had each given up another name once I dangled fifty bucks in front of their faces. I then contacted those two names, Robin Bourke and Aaron Griffin. Robin denied the accusation and dared me to find any proof of her cheating. Zak told me she was a neighbor of his and was a pretty cool girl, so it was probably more likely that Regan didn’t actually know another cheater and just threw Robin’s name out there to get fifty bucks. Aaron, on the other hand, must have sent me thirty texts pleading for me to not tell anyone. With about thirty players in your average Brown Bag Game, five decent players was probably enough to help a player like Noah win almost every time, but I was convinced there were more out there.
The final bell rang, and I made my way straight to the bus, anxious to discuss what next steps we’d take with our new information. I passed Zak by the bike rack. He was talking to one of his judo buddies.
“Hey, Zak. Hurry up, man. Lots to discuss.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Zak said. “I’ll be there in like two minutes.”
I took out my notebook and scanned my daily notes as I made my way to the back of the bus. I felt a tug on my sleeve and stopped to see Freddie chewing her nails and staring at me.
“I still don’t understand how you’re able to get so many of those videos, Danny. You’d have to be in the exact right spot at the exact right time.”
“Yeah, pretty amazing what you can come up with when you can read minds.” I tapped my head knowingly.
Freddie looked around and hunched down, speaking in a low voice. “Look, I trust you, but you gotta help me understand the strategy here. I thought we wanted to do all this closer to the Shoebox Game. So what’s the plan now? I’m not even sure Noah will show up now that he’s been outed as a cheater. You gotta fill me in on the details, Danny.”
“I will, I just need to—”
Someone slapped my notebook to the floor.
“What do you think you’re doing, punk?”
I looked up to see none other than SpudMasterFlex himself, both fists clenched and nostrils flared. “I was talking to Freddie. But now I’m staring at Snake River’s biggest cheater. What are you up to?”
The kids on the bus gave out a low ooooh.
“I bet you think you’re so clever.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’ve proven I’m clever. Just like I’ve proven that you’re a rotten cheat who also happens to know squat about retro games. I’m onto you now, Noah. Your reign ends at the Shoebox Game.”
I squared off with Noah. My whole body tensed and my heartbeat revved up like someone pressing a gas pedal to the floor of a car still in park. Noah was furious and I was on a discard day. Not exactly the recipe for a peaceful resolution.
Noah opened his mouth for what I thought was going to be some clever comeback. It wasn’t. He cleared his throat and spit in my face. I winced and made to wipe away the loogie when Noah jumped me, clawing and biting like some kind of rabid badger. I yelled as Noah sank his teeth into my shoulder and knocked me to the floor. I scrambled backward and used the space to kick Noah off me. He lunged again but stopped short, dangling like a marionette. Zak had him by the back of the shirt.
“Break it up, break it up!” Mr. Rory, the school bus driver, yelled as he shuffled down the aisle.
I rubbed my shoulder and winced, trying to hold back tears. “That lunatic spit in my face and bit me on the shoulder.” I pulled up my T-shirt sleeve to reveal a set of purpling bite marks.
Mr. Rory pursed his lips as he grabbed Noah from Zak. “You’re not riding home on my bus, mister.”
“I can’t walk home!” Noah yelled, flailing as Mr. Rory escorted him off the bus.
“Never know till you try,” Mr. Rory said, and turned back toward me. “You all right, kid?”
“Yeah, I’m fine … as long as he isn’t infected with the zombie virus.”
“Oh my gosh, Danny.” Freddie bent down to help me to my feet.
I stood up and rolled my shoulder as Freddie and Zak walked me to my regular seat toward the back of the bus.
“What happened?” Zak asked. “I can’t believe he bit you.”
“I must say having you around to pull
bullies off of me on discard days is coming in pretty handy.” I flipped through my notebook and tried straightening out the now-bent pages. “But could you try and show up just a little bit sooner? I’m taking a lot of damage here.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Zak said. “That’s what my dad always says. Plus, I bet you won’t even feel a thing tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes, wincing as I gingerly touched the bite mark. “Now you’re making double-day jokes, huh?”
“You said I need to think differently.”
“Discard day? Double day?” Freddie asked, looking from me to Zak. “What are you even talking about?”
Zak’s eyes widened in panic. I waved a hand. “It’s a discard day, Zak. Don’t worry about it.” I turned to Freddie. “I’ll tell you some other time.”
“So are your parents going to be mad?” Zak asked.
“What, that I got bit?” I said. “No, I won’t tell them about this. It’s not like I got my face pounded in. I can hide a bite mark.”
“Not if you turn into a zombie,” Zak countered.
“More likely he’d turn into a lying, whining cheater,” Freddie said. Zak and I both laughed. “Maybe that’s how Noah formed his little shadow team.”
“Would make a lot of sense,” Zak said. “So what do we do now with all those names? Get them to turn on Noah during the Shoebox Game?”
I shook my head. “If we can. I’ll have to test who’s loyal to him and who can be persuaded to turn, but I want Noah walking into the SBG thinking everything’s under control. I don’t want to run the risk of anyone squealing and blowing the plan. I say we keep digging to find more cheaters. If we can get them to turn on him, then we’ve got a good shot.”
“Look, I still feel like I’m in the dark here a bit, but I don’t think we’ll need to convince his shadow team of anything,” Freddie said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“If you can get more evidence of them cheating, then maybe instead of turning Noah’s team against him, we can get the honest gamers to band together and fight the cheaters. I can promise you I’m not the only one sick and tired of Noah’s reign. There’s more of us than there are of them.”
“Like one big shadow team. I like it.” I nodded at the idea as I looked out the window at a scowling Noah, who now stood in front of the school with Vice Principal Woodard.
“I wonder if Ophelia and Adam are still even going to have his back after all this,” Freddie said. “I guess when you have to pay people to be your friends it’s easy come, easy go.”
“Easy come…,” I echoed softly. My mind lingered on the phrase, the seed of a deviously good idea taking root. “There’s one last angle we haven’t explored yet.”
“And what would that be?” Zak asked.
“He’d never believe it right now, but between now and the Shoebox Game ol’ SpudMasterFlex and I are going to become the best of friends,” I said, leaning out the window and giving Noah an enthusiastic wave. “Be a buddy, not a bully!”
CHAPTER 22
STRATEGIES
(Discard Saturday—Oct. 9th)
That discard Saturday, Freddie stood at her whiteboard. The morning call of songbirds seemed to come from right outside the Roost. In addition to information about Noah’s shadow team there was now a complete list of Shoebox Game participants, their gamertags, known strengths, weaknesses, shadow teams, and potential ties to Noah. At the top of the board was a countdown: Days to SBG—6.
“So that now makes seven confirmed cheaters,” Freddie said, drawing a frowny face next to the name MasterCheese116. “And you said you don’t have video evidence of this one?”
I pulled a sucker from my mouth and shook my head as I read over the list of nearly fifty names. “Nope. This one was a … credible confession, let’s call it.” In truth, this last one had come after a few sources pointed me to the same player (MasterCheese116), and I kind of threatened him with a judo-style beating from Zak. Would Zak ever do something like that? Of course not. Would Zak have even consented to send me videos of him body slamming and nearly breaking a kid’s arm in his latest judo tournament if he’d known I was going to use them to intimidate MasterCheese116 into fessing up? Not a chance. But if Zak couldn’t remember what happened in the discard-day past, was it really my place to remind him?
Freddie took a couple of steps back and surveyed the board. “I seriously don’t know how you manage to get all of this bog-squashing info. I’d hardly believe it if you didn’t produce so much blasted video evidence.”
“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” I said, putting the sucker back into my mouth. “If Noah thinks he’s the only one with secret helpers, he’s sorely mistaken.” The odd thing was that my number one secret helper didn’t even know she was my secret helper. Freddie’s ability to break down post-game stats and draw conclusions on how the game had played out was like some expert tracker looking at faint indentations in the earth, dew missing from grass, and half-broken twigs and divining which direction an animal had gone when most people would just see trees and flowers. Cheaters confessing names of other cheaters showed me who to look for; Freddie’s post-game stat breakdown showed me where and when to look.
“So of the seven confirmed cheaters,” Freddie said, reading down the list, “we have video evidence of six. Three are dedicated to dropping off useful items like potions, weapons, and armor. One spies on key players and has her earbuds patched into Noah’s so she can whisper information like player locations and what weapons they have. The last three are essentially bodyguards. Very few of them are aware of any of the other cheaters. We’ve also got most everyone else assigned to a shadow team. Now the trick is seeing which of the seven cheaters can be turned, if any, and which of the shadow teams would want to combine into one big shadow team against the cheaters during the Shoebox Game. How we’re going to figure that out without anyone squealing to Noah, I have no clue.”
“I’ve got a few ideas,” I said.
Freddie rolled her eyes. “Let me guess. Mind reading.”
“Bingo.” I was tempted to tell Freddie about the double day. Her knowing would actually make things a lot simpler, but her freaking out about me magically living every day twice would make things a lot more difficult. We were zeroing in on a solid Shoebox Game plan, and, with only one week left, we needed Freddie focused and on her A game.
Freddie looked at the list of cheaters and clicked her tongue. “With this many cheaters I’m not even sure he makes any money during the Brown Bag Games.”
“Probably not anymore,” I said, “but do you honestly think he’s doing this for the money? I doubt he started with seven people on the payroll. He probably got close to losing and then added one, then another, then another, until it was just all about maintaining the image of a champion, no matter the cost. He’s cracking, Freddie, and we’re gonna be the ones to break him.”
“I hope you’re right. You think we have time for a few quick games before Zak gets here?” Freddie asked, pulling out her phone and checking the time.
I did the same. “Yeah, we’ve got enough time for one for sure. Two if you get killed as quickly as you did last time. Heck, maybe even three if you die that fast.”
Freddie grabbed the whiteboard eraser and tossed it at my head. I threw my arms up and blocked it at the last moment. “Very funny, Mr. Sit Back and Wait for Me to Do All the Dirty Work. Is there anything else I can help you with this round to make you more comfortable while you hang out and snipe? Maybe there’s some secret magical cushioned chair I could find and bring back for you.”
I laughed, wiping dry-erase residue from my forearm. As it turned out, Freddie and I actually had very complementary play styles. I liked to sit back and work the long-range game, picking people off, while Freddie was much more the “kick down the door, guns blazing” kind of gal. We worked so well together as a little shadow team of two that Freddie finished second at the Brown Bag Game two sticky days ago. She had quickly become a
thorn in Noah’s side, and I felt more confident than ever about going into the next phase of our strategy.
“You still good about the plan on Monday?” I asked as Freddie brought up Champions Royale on the TV.
Freddie shrugged. “Look, it’s gonna stink to lose my only wingman, but if you going all undercover on Noah is gonna set us up for a glorious victory at the Shoebox Game, then yeah, I’m good.”
“The one way we can guarantee someone from Noah’s shadow team will turn on him, is to become part of his shadow team,” I said. “Keep your friends close—”
“But your enemies closer.” Freddie finished the thought. “I’ll use the week to keep running those sniping drills you showed me, although I seriously don’t feel like I’m getting any better. It just isn’t my thing.”
“Freddie, you get more kills than I do,” I said, mumbling my next words. “You also die quicker, but you’ll get it.”
“No guts, no glory.” Freddie shrugged, not the least bit bothered by the tease.
Halfway through our second game I got a text from Zak, letting us know that he was out front. We ran our players into a huge firefight and managed to take down a few people before being crushed by an ogre.
“You ready to go see what Noah gets up to on a Saturday?” I asked.
Freddie paused as she turned off the TV and lifted up the tree-house trapdoor. “Texcalibur, this was my idea. Well, you inviting Zak along for backup was your idea, but I’m not about to let my fear of Noah stand in the way of taking him down.”
“Doesn’t that kinda mean that you’re not afraid of him?” I arched an eyebrow.
“No.” Freddie spoke with a matter-of-fact tone. “It means that maybe I’ve just decided to be epically courageous and that I know we need to make sure we’ve flushed out all the cheaters that we can, and I’m willing to do my part.”