Rolling for Love

by Kate Messick

  Unlike the holiday cheer that fills Boulder. Sandy’s apartment hasn’t changed with the season. Her sparse décor remains; no lights twinkle from any corners, and wrinkled linens remain their dull cream color. However, one small bottle of peppermint schnapps stands on the counter, as if defying the apartment’s lack of festivities.

  Sandy Yuhi

  “I’m sorry,” I finally say.

  We didn’t stay. Amorino’s interruption ruined the experience, though I loved seeing the old tech up close like that. What would it have been like to work in a bunker? I sip my coffee and look between Joe and Dillon. They are both disheveled. Their many warm layers lie on the floor near my front door. Dillon is sitting in one of the cheap plastic-bamboo chairs at my tiny table and Joe is sitting at the end of my bed. I’m leaning back into my pillows.

  “It was extremely cool while it lasted,” Dillon finally relents.

  “Don’t encourage her Dill.” Joe shakes his head.

  “I really didn’t think it would be a big deal—”

  “Does he really have video of us trespassing?” Joe interrupts me crossly.

  “I turned off the security system.” I respond.

  “You turned off the system,” Joe frowns. “Because you thought there was nothing wrong with what we were doing?”

  “We aren't a threat to national security,” I say heatedly. “And if the military still cared about the site, they would be guarding it. I’m sure Amorino turned it back on before he came to confront us. Could you really lose your clearance, Joe?”

  “Yes,” he confirms. “Even if it hadn’t been military site, as soon as I’m charged with a felony, my clearance is lost and I get booted out of the military with a dishonorable discharge. And he’s not wrong – if you’re accused of this, no one in government contracting will touch you.”

  “He clearly didn’t care that we were there,” Dillon adds glumly. “This was a trap for him to get something.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” I scrunch my eyes together. When Amorino cools down, I will talk to him again. He’s just upset and taking it out on me. I will make sure that Joe and Dillon are not involved. As these thoughts run through my head, Joe’s weight shifts on the bed and cold air hits my arm as he lifts up a sleeve.

  “That’s going to bruise.” He looks where Amorino gripped my arm.

  Amorino and I both have a hot streak, but he’d never grabbed me with so much force before. Joe’s reminder sends an uncomfortable chill down back. Memories of some of Amorino’s more recent interactions with me suddenly start waving red flags in my head. He’d never been violent – but violent is the only word I can use now. Why had it taken me so long to realize it? Joe had been right: I should have taken Amorino’s actions more seriously.

  “I’m not worried about us,” he says more softly.

  I feel tears fill my eyes. I am. God knows what else he planted to make this worse. Did he know I drew the plans for Joe? The only important line in my contract was that I had to keep everything secret. And I hadn’t even done that!

  I drew the entire base for Joe. He gave them to Paul … oh God. It just gets worse and worse. I need to stop this. Amorino’s words echo in my mind. You are happy now, just wait. What goes up, must come down. Had he planned all of this?

  My self-righteousness doesn’t want to be wrong; we didn’t hurt anything. That basement was amazing; it was worthy of being explored before everything was carted away. But now … now I don’t think it was worth it, not at all. You could be too happy.

  “What does Amorino want from you?” Dillon asks.

  I realize I have been quiet for a long time. I’m shaking, not with anger but with fear. I’m going to lose everything. I have never stood up to Amorino before, not since we were kids. I followed his footsteps. I even forgave him after he cheated on me and kept right on sleeping with him. Rewarding him for his mistakes.

  It had been jealousy when I told him about Joe coming to Thanksgiving. He didn’t want me to get a new job. A career meant I would never work for him again. He would lose control of his little toy. How had I not noticed this? Amorino thought he owned me, that our futures were going to be forever entwined. And I hadn’t even noticed.

  “Sandy, we’re here for you,” Dillon adds.

  I feel his weight join us on the bed and he wraps his arms around my waist.

  “Amorino thinks he owns me.” I’m not sobbing, I’m not even crying that much. I’m too shocked at my own ignorance to feel much. “I need to leave both of you … all of this. I need to go back to how I was. I shouldn’t have tried something different. He doesn’t think he owns me –he knows it. I just never realized it.” I feel the tears streaming down my cheeks, but my brain doesn't register them. My phone chimes and I absently pick it up.

  Amorino: Just to be clear. Baggage = Smartin, Dempsy, new job. What I want = our old friendship back, exactly as it was.

  I feel someone tug my phone out of my hands. Joe’s voice lets out a curse, followed by Dillon’s.

  “I’m so sorry,” I hear myself say.

  Dillon’s arms squeeze me tight and It’s like they bring me back into my body. I feel myself get passed to Joe, and he does the same, and kisses the top of my head. My phone chimes again.

  “It’s a link,” Dillon states. “Probably to the security feeds.”

  They confirm it quickly. My car, our faces. Us picking up objects. It even looks like I put the telegraph machine in my pocket instead of dropping it when Amorino startled us. My phone chimes again with pictures of my contract and a recording of Amorino talking to my mom about Thanksgiving, the basement her daughter who so very excited to visit. That asshole had used my mom. My devastation starts to dissipate.

  “I want to kill him,” I manage to utter.

  “So do I,” Joe admits. “Dillon, take Sandy to your place tonight. I need to calm down. I’m seeing red and I need to go beat it out of something at the gym before I drive to his place and make sure his blackmail won’t work … the wrong way.” He cups my face in his hands and brushes away my tears with his thumbs. “We will figure this out. Don’t you dare leave us and don’t you even think about calling Paul. Those job offers are yours; you earned them.”

  “I want them,” I confess, miserable. “I want us. But I will not destroy your lives.”

  “It won’t come to that,” Dillon affirms. “You’re right; we didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Just really, really illegal,” Joe adds quietly.

  I laugh bitterly.

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Campaign, Estes Park

  Unlike Sandy, Joe has attempted some minimal holiday decorations – mostly in his dining room, as that’s where D&D is played. A few strings of colorful and horribly clashing lights blink in different patterns around his bookshelf and a single woolen stocking hangs from its highest corner.

  Steven Byrd

  The procurement of a witch’s full moon spell is easy with Dillon’s contacts. Our plan has been gone over a thousand times and, now, the scene is set for us to rid Estes Park and the surrounding valley of the Kaatse family.

  The Kaatses have three portals including the one we damaged at the trebuchet. They are lying on the beds of semi-trucks located a few miles apart. Three teams, one for each portal, have been formed and they all need to strike at the same time. The teams securing the two outer portals will then move them to the center one where we can destroy them altogether using our new combined magic’s. Never mind that we haven’t actually figured out how to use it yet. Small details.

  “So we’re just going for it?” Dillon’s double checks, verbalizing my own unease.

  We’ve moved the pieces on Joe’s three battle mats that are stretched out over the entire table. Joe has the portals drawn in the center of every one and found little toy semi-trucks, their flatbed trailer and trucks separated, as the Kaatses had left them. Michael’s angel figurine is with me and Goliath. Raphael’s angel figure is with Nozomi and Damion. Gabriel’s is
with Ruby and Strider. The question goes unanswered and Joe goes ahead and sets the scene.

  “The moon is two-thirds full,” he describes. “And the stars are bright. Although details are obscure, your vision is clear. The cold crisp air soothes your nerves, the world unbelievably still and quiet as your teams begin their approach.”

  Trixy (Steven’s character)

  My power ripples through the sea of little demons. Michael’s warriors, just behind the mass of enemies, slaughter those that remain. The battle to the portal has been easier than I expected, though based on the radio, we’re having the easiest time of it.

  We break through the clearing and the large dark metal ring, etched with silver runes, glints in the moonlight. The portal sits vertically on top of a flatbed, and the truck - the front part that has the engine - is hopefully parked nearby. The clearing glows blue as the portal activates and Kaatse demons spill out of it.

  “Scout for the truck, cover me,” Goliath bellows, his massive wings pumping into the air as I charge directly for the portal.

  A handful of red demons turn and I grin, bringing up my hand and sending a blast of pink magic straight into them. My blast cuts through the first two and I hiss as the third gets through my defenses; its sword sinks into the skin of my thigh. An arrow from Michael’s bow burrows into the neck of another, but I don’t pause to thank him as I continue to press forward. Slowly, we turn the tide and start pressing in. I’m almost at the portal when we hear the blare of a truck engine. Demons and allies alike scatter as it careens out of control into the corner of the flatbed. The wheels, held in place by wedges, groan but don’t move as metal and wood pierce the truck’s engine.

  “What is this?” Michael lands next to me and we both run up to the truck.

  Goliath is somehow wedged into the driver’s seat. “I don’t know how to drive,” he sighs. “I’m lucky I got the thing to start.”

  “Why didn’t you radio? I have drivers on hand,” Michael hisses.

  “I didn’t think of it. We needed the truck ten minutes ago.” Goliath jumps out of the truck, grabs a little axe from his belt and hurls it behind us into a demon.

  He’s right. In order for our plan to work, we need to get all three portals on top of each other.

  “No time.” Goliath motions to me and between both our supernatural strengths, we’re able to push the truck away from the flatbed. Coolant is pouring out of the thin hole created by the collision.

  “Shit,” Trixy swears. “I guess we just hope it turns over and goes far enough.”

  “It might blow up when you turn it over,” Michael points out.

  “Shit,” Trixy swears again.

  Nozomi (Sandy’s character)

  Damion and I work oddly well together. With Raphael’s scouting, our guerrilla tactics get us almost to our outer portal before an alarm is called out and enemies swarm our position. Raphael casts a huge spell, enveloping the ground in white mist that slows down everyone. Our strike team fires arrows and magic into the slowed demons as we fight our way forward.

  “Nozomi!” I hear Raphael’s cry and look up to see his form surrounded by flying demons, their little wings beating like humming birds. “Nozomi,” he cries again and this time I ready a dagger as he dives down, the little bastards hot on his tail. I let the dagger fly and it sinks into one of them, but more follow the first.

  “How are we doing on the truck?” Damion demands as he appears behind me.

  “I have no idea,” I yell. “Who’s working on it?”

  “I though Raphael was? He’s the only one with wings,” Damion says.

  I curse and look up again as the small horde of flying demons continues to chase him around. The portal is on a flatbed; we have already moved all the wedges from the wheels so we just need to attach the engine. It has to be nearby. Another demon flies at us and Damion’s claw-like fingers manage to pluck it out of the air, and my daggers finish it off.

  “I need to track the ground,” I advise. “Cover me.” I run, dodging around our little strike team’s pockets of fighting until I find the hitch where the flatbed was meant to attach to something. I find the obscured tracks easily enough and begin my hunt.

  “To me … defend Nozomi,” I hear Damion bellow.

  A circle of soldiers surrounds my back and sides as I track to the truck. We get there just in time – it starts to roll forward, a red-eyed demon in the driver's seat. Heedless of my own safety, I rush the truck and put my fist through the windshield.

  The red-eyed being pulls out a gun and fires it pointblank at my chest. The impact of the bullet on my bulletproof vest sends my flying backwards. Before I can hit the ground, arms close around me and Raphael’s eyes look down at me with concern.

  “We need to stop the truck,” I wheeze. “I’m fine, just had the wind knocked out of me.”

  We bank around, hovering for a few seconds for me to catch my breath before I have Raphael drop me on the hood. I tuck and roll as the driver fires bullets at me blindly through his roof. I roll again and then get a grip on the passenger’s side door. Glass flies everywhere as I kick my way in, my heel clipping the side of the driver’s face. The truck bucks and slows down, losing gears.

  We grapple for the gun, with a curse I manage to throw it out the window. Three more swift kicks to the head and he’s out cold. A horrible grating sound hits my ears and the truck scrapes the trees to the side. Breathing hard I easily push the body into the passenger seat and hit the brakes. Flipping the truck’s gear shifter, I get it going back down the middle of the road toward the portal.

  I see Raphael’s wings gliding above me, scouting and dodging the remaining demons still chasing him. So far so good.

  Strider (Dillon’s character)

  Originally our strike team was the largest as we need to hold the middle portal. We didn’t get very close to it before a wave of magic took out my entire front line. The battle to the portal had been bloody and full of casualties. Ruby, now in dire wolf form lies next to the portal panting, one of her back legs cut almost to the bone. I have joined the remaining archers, just waiting for the portal to open again and send through another handful of Kaatse demon scum. We have been systematically slaughtering them upon arrival. It’s not very honorable but very effective.

  I hear the roar of an engine and cheer as the first truck roll towards us. Our strike team is down by almost half its numbers, but we have held.

  “Nozomi,” I yell as she exits the truck.

  She runs to me for a brief hug as Gabriel and Raphael land behind us. “Loop back time,” Nozomi grins. I have no idea what that means.

  “Michael has destroyed his truck,” Gabriel interjects before I can ask. “Nozomi, Strider, and Raphael get that portal detached and head to point A.” Gabriel clicks the radio. “I need strike team beta and zed with me now. Point A needs reinforcements.”

  We get the portals stacked, facing each other, and I suddenly understand Nozomi’s grin. It’s a hilarious infinite loop of sending bad guys coming in from somewhere and getting sent right back out. The Giirdse forces should easily control the area while we go get the final portal. Unfortunately, it takes time to flip around the truck, flatbed still attached, and gather our reinforcements – time Trixy and Goliath are running out of.

  Nozomi drives carefully as every available handhold has one of Michael’s warriors on it. By the time we reach our friends they are surrounded, very bloody, and backed up against their broken truck, its fluids still gushing from its engine. I hear Nozomi’s voice come over my own radio as well as right next to me in the truck.

  “Trust me, when I scream, take cover!” Nozomi turns to me. “Take my position.”

  We shuffle awkwardly but lose a minimal amount of speed as I take over the driver’s seat. With a grunt, Nozomi kicks out what’s left of the front window and stands on the hood.

  “Break now,” she yells.

  I hit the brakes hard, she screams and jumps. With the added force of the truck stopping, sh
e goes flying forward, as do a few of Michael’s warriors. Fire streams out of her hands, hitting the fluid-leaking truck and igniting it into a plume of oily, hot fire. White wings swoop down and catch her before her body hurtles into the fireball.

  “Great, now the hitch is on fire too,” Steven says despairingly.

  “Really?” Sandy asks. “I thought you guys moved it while we were on our way? What were you doing?”

  “Being slaughtered by demons,” Zack answers angrily, looking at his dice with murder in his eyes.

  “Michael, water,” I yell at the angel, hoping he can hear me.

  “Goliath, I need your strength,” Sandy says to the very pissed-off gargoyle next to me. We charge into the fire and attempt to push the flatbed out of the worst of the flames, but it won’t budge.

  “The tire wedges are still in,” Steven points out.

  “Why can’t you say these things in game?” Sandy asks crossly. “And why wasn’t that the first thing you did?”

  “Children.” Joe looks up at the ceiling as if needing divine intervention. “It’s not about what has happened, but how you deal with it now.”

  As Nozomi is faster than Goliath, she runs the length of the truck, pulling wedges away from tires. I curse as the portal begins to glow, spewing demons. I pull out my crossbow, firing as rapidly as I can at the demons dodging around and through the fire. When Nozomi reappears, I position myself at her flank.

  “Push it out of the fire,” I yell. “Maybe we can roll the portal onto Nozomi’s flatbed before any more come through.”

  She and Goliath bolt to the side on fire and I can smell burning flesh as they heave and push it the five feet it needs to go, the movement makes the portal go dark. Michael’s weather spell suddenly hits, drenching the clearing in sheets of rain. I go to inspect the hitch, before I can two of the tires pop and I’m thrown back as they explode. So much for that idea. Michael already has his men on the flatbed, preparing to move the portal by the time I’m up.