Geekhood Page 11

  “Come on, Arch. Fight it. Come on!”

  I feel like a can of Coke that’s been shaken, but I can’t give in to it now. Dad’s obviously got his own life to lead and I can’t argue with that, but I feel so … unwanted. Daring myself to cry one last time, I splash my face with water again, towel off and get myself back into check. EM running normally. I throw a smile at the mirror, just to see if I can still carry one off.

  IM: It’ll do. Focus on Sarah. Focus on the Game.

  Breathing like a boxer ready to go into the ring, I head upstairs to my Lair, where I can leave this world behind me for a few precious hours.

  Outside the maelstrom in my head, the evening seems to be going rather well.

  As I walk in, Matt goes into a fake coughing fit, squinting at the doorway.

  “Archie? Archie? Is that you?” He waves his hands in front of his face, as though wafting smoke. “I can’t see you! Talk to me, Archie!”

  The others laugh, while Sarah rolls her eyes in mock exasperation. “What’s the matter with you guys? Haven’t you ever smelt incense before?” She turns to me, with a nod of approval. “Well I like it!”

  I’m still watching everything through a camera lens, but no one seems to have noticed. I go through the motions, producing the warm Cava from under the table.

  “Who’s for a drink?”

  “Dude!” Conveys *Is well impressed*.

  Ravi just laughs and holds up a glass. Matt, as ever, takes a little swipe at me through a veneer of innocence.

  “Is it a special occasion?”

  But my brain’s suffering a systems overload right now, and I don’t take the invitation to join in the banter. Instead, I turn to the only thing that’s preventing me from falling apart right now.

  “Sarah?”

  “No, thanks,” she smiles, embarrassed. “I had too much of that at a wedding last year and spent the whole night throwing up. Just the smell makes me feel sick.”

  I fetch her a Coke from downstairs, feeling the smug grins from my friends on my back. The anger burning in my throat makes me curse them and I fleetingly wish they weren’t here. Luckily, I find that Cava has an almost anaesthetic effect and, after downing a glass, I’m coasting on a bubbly cloud – everything seems a little brighter, everyone’s a little funnier and I feel a little lighter.

  It’s all very well for them to mock, but I’m not the only one who’s made an effort: Beggsy and Ravi look like they’ve walked off the set of a washing-powder commercial. Their usually crumpled shirts are pristine and their jeans have been ironed so flat that you can practically hear creaking whenever they move their legs. Only Matt has retained some sense of Geekiness through his unusually-well-turned-out appearance; unlike Beggsy and Ravi, he’s tucked his shirt into his jeans and has done the buttons up all the way to his collar. And we won’t even talk about the hair gel that he’s used to tame his ginger ’fro. I didn’t know side partings were in.

  IM: He looks like an old-time Quaker.

  Sarah’s blending in perfectly, although she’s obviously the centre of attention; Beggsy keeps winking at me whenever he thinks she’s not looking and Ravi can’t take his eyes off her. Oddly, Matt, possibly the most uptight person I know, seems completely relaxed in her company. I can see that part of him can’t quite believe that she’s interested in the Game, and he’s taking the time to explain the set-up to her in clear and simple terms. You can see that he’s got his committed-to-the-game head on and wants the newcomer to feel just as enthusiastic about it as he does. It’s almost as if Sarah radiates peace and Matt’s usual acidity has been neutralized.

  Once I’m sure that Sarah has understood the basics, I take charge. “Right, everyone, let’s get down to business. The Tomb awaits.”

  Matt, Ravi and Beggsy bring their miniatures out from their bags, unwrapping them from various layers of bubble wrap and toilet paper. Sarah is obviously impressed.

  “Wow. Did you guys paint these yourselves?” There’s nothing better she could have said and we spend the next five minutes with Sarah examining Ravi’s Cleric, Matt’s Mage and Beggsy’s Dwarf Mercenary as the guys point out little details and explain techniques with unreserved pride. I can feel myself getting nervous.

  IM: And out comes the trump card…

  From behind my Dungeon Master’s screen, I pull out Nox Noctis and hand it to Sarah with a casual “Here’s yours,” that masks the tickle of anticipation that worms its way through my Cava shield.

  IM: Nicely played.

  She holds the miniature up to her eyeline, turning it gently between her finger and thumb.

  “Wow,” she breathes. “It’s amazing! Did you paint this especially for me?”

  Out of anyone else’s mouth that would be a cliché – an obvious flirt. Out of Sarah’s mouth, it’s a genuine appreciation that makes my heart skip and a warmth spread through my body. I’d paint the Sistine Chapel for another look like that. Unfortunately, her question is one I’m unprepared for and I’m suddenly aware of the wry looks from my mates.

  “Yeah …”

  IM: You’re blushing!

  “… well …”

  IM: You’re mumbling!

  “… we’ve all got them. So that one’s yours.” Not quite the killer comeback I was hoping for.

  She studies it closely. “Nice outfit…” The look that accompanies that statement would get a rise out of a corpse.

  “Let’s have a look.” Beggsy grins, having a James Earl Jones moment. Sarah passes Nox Noctis to him and he examines her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Do you dress up like that often?”

  “Not usually,” she counters. “Maybe for the next game.”

  The minds of four boys all summon the same image in unison.

  IM: The trousers of four boys tighten as one.

  “OK, then,” I manage. “Sarah, here’s your Character Sheet; guys, here’s the map of where we ended up last time.” The group of adventurers place their pieces down on the map and all eyes turn to me.

  “You’re in a crypt,” I begin. “It’s dark, dank and cold. At the back of the room, straight in front of you is a door. Between you and the door is a large stone coffin…What do you want to do?”

  The group look at one another, Sarah obviously unsure of how to begin. I think the guys are conscious of not wanting to look stupid. Thankfully, Matt, who is completely committed to the cause, breaks rank.

  “I’ll cast a Spell of Illumination; we need to see more, I think.”

  “OK. The end of your staff lights up and you can see scratches along the sides of the wall, perhaps as though someone’s tried to escape – claw marks.”

  “Could be that they’ve imprisoned a vampire down here…” Ravi frowns. “Remember what that thief told us back in the village. It could be in the coffin.”

  I take another sip of Cava and smile to myself, feeling the bubbles in my head blessing me with confidence and worth.

  “Should we look in the coffin?” Sarah’s still a little unsure, but is having a go.

  “Let’s inspect it first,” says Matt decisively. “I shine my staff over the lid, looking for runes or inscriptions.”

  “OK. The lid of the coffin is quite ornate. There are runes among the engravings, but you can only make out one word: ‘Damned’.” I give the word as much gravity as I can muster.

  “I get my battleaxe ready,” says Beggsy, shifting in his seat and unconsciously gripping an invisible weapon.

  “I’ll go for my mace,” concurs Ravi.

  “Hang on.” Sarah’s looking at Ravi’s Character Sheet. “You’re a cleric; you’ve got some Holy Water and a crucifix – wouldn’t that be better?”

  “Nice work,” Matt comments. “Ravi?”

  “Yeah. I’ll go for the water and the cross. No bloodsucker’s going to mess with us – not on my watch!”

  “I’ll get my…” Sarah scans her sheet, “…my Talisman of Protection ready.”

  “OK. Who’s going to open the coffin?”
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br />   “Better be me,” Beggsy responds, “I’m the strongest.” He picks up a die and rolls it. Behind my screen, I counter-roll, using another die.

  “OK. Beggsy – the lid is really heavy, so you’re just able to slide it halfway off. Inside, there is a skeleton. It’s dressed in decaying robes and covered in amulets that all bear the sign of the Sleepless. It’s clutching an old wooden staff and you can see that its canine teeth are sharp, like fangs. It doesn’t move.” I put down a skeleton miniature.

  The group look at each other again. “Could be a vampire,” Matt speculates. “But if it is, it’s obviously been dealt with.”

  “Could be the body of one of those fanatics – the Sons of the Sleepless,” Ravi says.

  “Could be, Jh’terin, could be.” Matt’s sounding grim now; he’s in The Zone. “Do we want to inspect the body?”

  I sit back and watch the group through my haze. It’s wonderful. Sarah’s wonderful. She’s entered fully into this geeky world and hasn’t so much as batted an eyelid. She’s there. In my world.

  The group decide to ignore the coffin and open the door instead. It takes a couple of goes and Matt opts to cast a Spell of Destruction. Just what I’d hoped: I’ve set up a magical trap triggered by that very spell. The skeleton (actually an undead warlock) rises out of the coffin and attacks them. Within moments, Beggsy is incapacitated and Ravi has taken a wound from a Cursed Blade. Panic spreads through the group like a forest fire.

  “Somebody do something!” Ravi cries, as I cheerfully tell him how low his Hit Points are falling.

  Beggsy groans as he rolls a die to see how much longer he’s going to be out of action.

  “Can I summon a demon? Would that be a good idea?” Sarah asks Matt.

  “It’ll take too long,” he replies. “Summoning demons takes time.”

  “Could you buy me that time? Have you got anything that would hold him off for a bit?”

  Matt looks down his Character Sheet and then nods. “You are a worthy companion, Nox Noctis,” he says, in his character voice. “OK, Archie. I’m going to cast a Distortion Field between us and the skeleton.”

  Dice are rolled and scores calculated. Behind my screen, I can see that Matt’s roll has failed against the skeleton’s Resistance to Magic. But I want to give Sarah a chance to shine.

  “Your Distortion Field flares into life and the undead warlock lowers his sword; it’s as if he can’t see you.”

  “Get behind the coffin,” Matt orders. “There’s no way of telling how long this thing’s going to last. You summon and I’ll hold off old Boney here.”

  Sarah moves her piece to the back of the map and looks at me.

  “I want to…” she scans her sheet, “…Summon a Greater Demon.”

  “OK, but it’s risky,” I warn her. “These guys have a way of asking for more than they give.”

  “I’ll take that chance,” she smiles, and then holds the die up in her hands and closes her eyes. “Spirits of the Netherworld,” she intones, “grant me the aid of one of your agents. Make him mine and mine alone!”

  I can sense the others freezing for a second: this is role-playing at its best. In other circumstances, it would be cheesier than an Edam factory, but here, in the sanctuary ofmy Lair, it’s perfect. She rolls the die. Behindmy screen, I can see it’s another failure, but rules are meant to be broken. With a dramatic flourish, I place the Gargoyle in front of her.

  “What is thy bidding, Mistress?” Emboldened by bubbles, I enter the spirit of things.

  “Whom do you serve?” She looks directly into my eyes.

  “Only you, Mistress.” I look directly into hers.

  “And why are you here?”

  “Only to do thy bidding.”

  “And what will you ask in return?”

  “Only that which is in your power to grant.”

  I can almost feel an electric charge between us. As far as I’m concerned, there’s no one else in the room; it’s just us. I don’t care about the others watching and I don’t care what they think of it; all I can see are Sarah’s ice-blue eyes and the delicate curves of her mouth.

  “Then do my bidding and you will be rewarded.”

  A million images flash through my mind and I have to cross my legs. God help me if I need to go to the toilet.

  “What do you wish, Mistress?”

  I never get to hear her answer. There’s a sudden bang against my bedroom window; a large stone rolls down the glass. We all sit in silence, throwing anxious glances at each other.

  BANG! Another stone.

  “What the…?”

  BANG! Another one.

  Gingerly, Matt creeps over to the window, opens it and pops his head out. Quickly, he ducks back in as another missile clatters on the roof.

  “I was wrong,” he scowls. “He did turn up.”

  We sit, frozen, in silence, listening to the barrage on my roof.

  “He’ll break the window in a minute.” Ravi’s retreated into his natural Geek’s demeanour, cowering and afraid.

  “What are we going to do?” Beggsy, too, is withdrawing into his shell, and sounds like he’s been sucking on a helium balloon. “How did he find us?”

  IM: Good question.

  “That’s that boy we saw at the shop – Jason Humphries. What does he want?” Sarah is watching the window, obviously nervous, while Matt paces the room, only to stop as another stone hits the glass.

  IM: What’re you going to do?

  The responsibility is mine. My friends are at my home and in my Lair. I’m sick of feeling impotent and afraid. I want some control back in my life. The bubbles in my head fuse with my frustration and anger to create something like bravery.

  “Sod this,” I mutter darkly and go over to the window.

  “Dude! Don’t!”

  I ignore Beggsy’s plaintive protest and wrench the window open to look down on to the drive. In the soft pool of the streetlight, I can see the taut figure of Jason Humphries, preparing to launch another stone.

  “Oi!” My anger darkens my voice. “What’re you doing?”

  Humphries looks up and a short bark of laughter slices through the night before he lobs the stone.

  “Coming to the party!” he shouts.

  I want to kill him. This is my home! It’s not fair and it’s not right.

  “Stop it! There’s no party!” I shout, ducking. “Get lost!”

  Another laugh, another stone.

  Matt’s beside me. “Tell him we’ll call the police if he doesn’t stop.” His voice is tight and urgent. Humphries responds to the idea with another bombardment. I look around my room and see a picture of fear and self-loathing; we’re all too scared to do anything and we know it and we hate ourselves for it. Even Sarah looks shocked.

  “What’s he doing?” she asks, incredulous.

  I can feel a hot flush rising in my chest and my breath is getting shallower.

  “Pack it in!” I yell.

  Humphries pauses for a moment. “You got that girl in there?” he leers.

  IM: Denydenydeny!

  But something in me has ignited, probably thanks to the Cava.

  “Yeah! So what?”

  “You’d better let me in, then!”

  “Yeah? What if I don’t?”

  My answer is another volley of stones.

  “Archie, this is serious.”

  “Shut up, Ravi. Let me think.”

  Sarah suddenly stands up. “I’ll go and talk to him.” She leaves the room.

  At that instant, I feel more powerless, more worthless and more pathetic than I ever have done in my life. In a white-hot explosion, the Cava bubbles burst and fury floods my system like molten magma.

  “Bastard!” I hiss and thunder down the stairs, overtaking Sarah.

  “Archie! What are you––?”

  “Stay there!”

  I rip the front door open and stand, panting, trembling. Matt, Ravi and Beggsy join me. Humphries saunters towards us.

 
“What do you want?” My voice is shaking. “How did you know where I live?”

  “Saw it on your ‘girlfriend’s’ Facebook page. Told you I was coming.”

  “No, you’re not. Now get lost!”

  Humphries looks over my shoulder; by the sinister change in his face, I guess that Sarah’s appeared behind me.

  “Hello, Sexy. What’re you doing with these losers?” He doesn’t bother to hide the leer in his tone.

  “Why don’t you go home, Jason?” Sarah is the calmest of the lot of us.

  “You playing games in there?” It’s as if he hasn’t heard her. He takes a step closer.

  “Please go home.”

  “I could show you a few games.” A reptilian smile reveals small, stained teeth.

  “Piss off, Humphries.”

  IM: Did I just say that?

  Humphries’s body ripples. I’ve made a challenge and he’s showing me what he’s got. Another step closer.

  “What did you say?”

  There’s no turning back for me now.

  “Just piss off, will you?”

  I can dimly hear Beggsy in the background repeating, “Oh, my God” over and over, and hissing to Ravi to call the police. Humphries’s face is granite.

  “I think I’m going to come in.” His voice is low and cold, thick with intent. And then he does it. He puts a foot on my doorstep. My doorstep.

  Something happens and Jason staggers back. My arms are outstretched and I can feel molten metal in my veins.

  IM: Oh my God! You pushed him! You pushed Jason Humphries!

  I’m panting and shaking like a leaf. A dangerous smile plays on Humphries’s slit of a mouth and his eyes darken under his brow. Without a word, he comes back at me, slowly, precisely, his face full of murder.

  “Wanker,” he hisses. “Geek.”

  There’s a thunderclap in my head and my body is owned by rage and hate. Everything that’s been dulled by the Cava suddenly finds a focus. My arms throw Humphries back into the drive and my legs launch me after him. A wild yell rolls up from my gut and into the night. My weight throws us both to the ground, me on top of him. Humphries gets his feet on the ground and slides himself out from under me. We’re both up and we grab each other’s arms at the shoulders. Our legs do a weird dance as we each try and trip the other over in some bad imitation of Judo. Humphries’s breath stinks and the gash of a smile never leaves his face. I’m panting and making whimpering noises as our feet twist round each other’s shins, losing and regaining balance in milliseconds.