Geekhood (13 page)

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?”

“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.” 

TWELVE

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.

Suddenly, we’re apart; he must have thrown me
because I’m staggering back. Instinctively my arms come up above my head and are answered by a hail of piston punches. It’s a mess; this whole thing is a mess. Not like those fights you see in films where guys are slugging at each other with long, clean punches; this is a tight, coiled, frenetic spasm of lashes and noise. But Jason’s a fighter and I’m not. With my arms protecting my head, my ribs are exposed and I feel the impact of his fist just under my armpit. It knocks the breath out of my lungs and I double over, my hands flailing above me. More blows rain on my shoulders and back. Blindly, I flail about, throwing my fists outward, hitting air, scuffing his hoodie, whimpering and yelling. Somewhere, I can hear Sarah shouting for us to stop it.

And then I connect. My unguided knuckles meet something that crunches. The blows stop for a second as Humphries reels back, a hand to his face. He stands for a moment, then looks in his palm with something like disgust. Blood rolls down from his nose, black in the half-light. A decision flashes across his face and he looks at me.

I’m already taking shaky steps backwards, but it’s too late; he comes at me like a bull, his arms swinging. I feel an impact to my cheek and the grind of gravel under my heel as I fall, Humphries on top of me. He growls, grunts and swears, getting in his shots wherever he can.

IM:
I’m going to be killed.

And for a moment, I think I have been. Everything goes white and I can’t feel anything. When I open my eyes, I see that the drive has been lit up by car headlights and Tony is hurling Jason out on to the street. Mum pulls me to my feet, a look on her face that I’ve never seen before.

“Get inside. Now.”

Sitting holding a packet of frozen peas to my face and listening to my mother scold me about the dangers of fighting, I’ve never felt less like James Bond. It may have been a tenuous fantasy to begin with, but my sore face, sore ribs and severely dented ego do nothing to build it back up. Despite the twenty minutes of my friends and Sarah explaining to my mother what happened and how it wasn’t my fault, my mum seems to think that right now is the best time to make sure that I don’t do it again – like I’m about to go pounding the streets in search of vengeance. And I think I’m having a premature hangover.

IM:
But you did plant one on him.

That thought does fill me with a little pride, I admit, but it also fills me with more than a little dread – my life at school’s not going to be worth living. Every step I take
is going to be haunted by the psychotic figure of Jason Humphries.

“Well? Aren’t you going to say something?”

I look up into my mother’s eyes. I could tell her about Dad leaving, but it would sound like an excuse.

IM:
Just do the apology and get it over with.

“Sorry. It just happened.”

Mum’s lips purse and she lets out a long breath through her nose.

“But you’re all right? How’s your cheek?”

IM:
She can’t help herself.

“It’s a bit sore, but it’s OK. Sorry, Mum.”

She nods and straightens up, asking who wants a cup of tea. It’s her subliminal way of letting me know that I’m off the hook. Tea solves everything.

“Well, I’m going to have a beer,” Tony huffs, heaving himself to the fridge. “I think I’ve earned it.” He clenches and unclenches his hand, wincing at some strain or bruise. “That kid was heavy.”

“I know!” I laugh ruefully. “I was under him! Thanks for getting him off.”

“No problem. Looked like you had it all under control, anyway…”

I raise an eyebrow wryly. My friends chuckle. Only Sarah remains quiet, staring at me intently, almost as if she’s trying to figure something out.

IM:
It could just be grateful awe.

I think not. Mum doles out mugs of sweet tea and offers round a few biscuits.

“Drink up,” she says. “And then I think I’d better take you all home. We’ve had quite a shock.”

“Yeah,” Beggsy manages through a biscuit. “But not as big a shock as Jason Humphries got.”

With the adrenalin having subsided and tea coursing through our veins, we all start to relive the whole thing, comfortable and safe in our surroundings. This is a moment of camaraderie that we’ve never really experienced before – because for once in our submissive little lives – something has
happened
. For once, we’re part of our own story, instead of living out our fantasies with maps and miniatures. I listen to my friends recounting the various threads of the evening. It turns out that Ravi did try to call the police, but kept dialling 911 instead of 999. He watches too much television. But he did spot Tony’s mobile number on the pad and rang it, so hats off to him. Matt had been trying to work out whether to jump in on the fight or not and Beggsy comes up with some story about putting himself between the action and Sarah. Only Sarah and I have nothing to say.

IM:
What’s she thinking?

In all the fantasies I’ve entertained about protecting Sarah from danger, her reaction has been profoundly
different to this. Usually, I’ve been battered within an inch of my life …

IM:
Check.

… but have emerged victorious …

IM:
Check.

… possibly with a dramatic wound that trickles a trail of blood from my forehead and down the side of my face …

IM:
Bruised eye and sore ribs … we’ll call it a check.

… that
she
tends …

IM:
Mum. Peas. Scolding. Uh-uh.

… before falling helplessly into my arms.

IM:
Tea. Biscuits. Silence. Nope.

Perhaps she’s disappointed in me; perhaps my
Cava-fuelled
display was too animalistic or even too
pathetic
to have won her adoration.

“Everyone ready?” Mum says, surveying the collection of empty mugs. “Come on, then.” My friends get up and say their goodbyes to me. Ravi opts for a
high-five
, Matt shakes my hand and Beggsy stands motionless for a second, pointing at me meaningfully. It’s all a bit solemn. Sarah stands in front of me, then sits gracefully on her heels and puts a hand on mine. She looks straight into my eyes.

“I’m going to call you tomorrow.”

My EM, unable to cope with anything, allows a
glowing blush to slip through the net.

IM:
*Makes trumpet noises*

“’K.”

She puts my number into her phone, and then they leave. I see Tony look towards the front door, listening for the revs of the car. It fires up and disappears into the night, delivering my friends and the girl who’s going to call me tomorrow to their homes.