1

Damon asked the guys to wait for Zack and Brett before going into the pool. They agreed, but there was a sense of uneasiness among them. Whatever it was Zack and Brett were doing, it was taking too long. They realized they were better off leaving the armor on until the situation was resolved.

Damon glanced at the women. At the front, Janna had fallen asleep, but the other three were still wide awake and staring into the fire. Emma had finally given up on the chain mail. Angie and Harper helped her remove the armor. He looked over at Miguel, who was gazing at the fire. The mage’s affection for Harper wasn’t a secret to anyone in the group. You’re in for quite a surprise, young man, Damon thought and smiled surreptitiously.

Miguel didn’t hear his thought. After the ladies had their fun at the pool, Damon had asked Miguel how to turn off the telepathy. The mind-reading had been amusing for a while, but Damon preferred not broadcasting his thoughts for everyone to hear. The young mage informed him that Emma, Zack, and Brett had made the same request.

Damon peered up the cavern and saw Zack and Brett coming down the slope. “They’re here,” he said. He noticed that Brett had patches of blood drying on the front of his armor. His nose was swollen and caked with blood. As the two men arrived, Damon turned to Zack. “Did you guys get off to a rough start?”

Zack shrugged. “A little, but most of that is the result of a nasty fall Brett took coming down the tunnel.”

Damon glanced at the healer inquisitively. The healer nodded and confirmed it, sounding like he had the world’s worst cold. “Yeah, I did a phhace plant right on the rockphhhs.”

Damon grunted. “Okay, it’s late. Let’s dive into the pool and get some shut-eye.”

Brett told them he wasn’t going in because he was doing the night watch. Damon breathed a sigh of relief. The rest of the men meandered into the water, then cleaned their armor and clothes before washing their bodies. “We should throw our wet armor at the ladies,” Damon quipped. The guys laughed.

They finished up quickly and got out of the pool. As they spread their armor by the fire, Damon thanked Brett for doing the watch. The nurse smiled with his broken face. “No problem, Damon. I’m really phhsorry about earlier,” he said with believable sincerity. “I guessphh I’m jussss a hard-headed guy. I’ll try to be better.”

Damon turned to the men. Jordan and Miguel were in their canvas underwear, while the three orcs had re-equipped their plate armor. “Angie’s determined where we’re going to sleep,” Damon said. “I’m slipping in between Angie and Emma.” He pointed to the two girls.

“You’re gonna wake ‘em up,” Ethan said.

Damon shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Angie was very specific about this. Ethan and Jordan, you take the end of the line.” Attempting to suppress a grin, he turned to Miguel. “Miguel, you’ll be in front of the brothers and right behind Harper.”

Miguel’s jaw dropped. “Huh?”

“You heard me, soldier!” Damon said, using his drill-sergeant tone. “You’re behind Harper in our little bedtime congo line!” The brothers were chuckling. “And you can close your mouth now,” he said.

Miguel’s jaw snapped shut with an audible pop.

Damon grabbed the mage’s arm and led him away from the men. “Before your knees start shaking,” he confided, “you should know that she’s requested this.” He regarded Miguel thoughtfully. “Be good to her,” he whispered. “We need her at her best.”

Miguel nodded.

“And that goes for you too,” he added.

They returned to the group. “Okay, so Zack should go—” Damon started.

“I’ll take the front,” Zack interrupted, “next to Janna.”

Damon glanced at his friend and understood that meant he wanted to keep an eye on Brett. “Okay, then you can lay the bedding over us after we get in.”

Zack grunted. “There are too many domestic chores in this operation,” he grumbled.

2

Damon was the first to go in. Angie and Emma had fallen asleep. He tried to wedge his enormous body in, but he woke the girls up. Angie and Janna slid forward while Emma and Harper moved back, complaining about his armor. Emma wrapped her arm around Damon, surprising him. He wondered about the possibility that there was a groupthink dynamic happening in their midst, or maybe it was the telepathy. Whatever it was, it was bonding the team. He draped his arm around Angie and closed his eyes.

Standing with the other men, Zack turned to Miguel. “You’re next.” Miguel took a breath and walked to the back of the sleeping group. He noticed Harper gazing at him. She smiled at him reassuringly. He dipped under the canopy of the leaves and slid upward. His canvas underwear wanted to slip down and he clutched it to keep it in place. As he moved, he could smell Harper’s sweet perfume again. He reached the top and lay there as stiff as a board, not knowing what to do, what to touch. Slowly, Harper’s hand moved back and took his. She pulled his arm around her. “Come closer,” she whispered.

He pressed against her, savoring the smell of her hair. Nervousness and exhilaration flooded his mind. And he had been right. There was something about Harper and being so close to her; he could feel it coming off her in waves.

“Miguel, I need you. We’ll talk more tomorrow,” she whispered. She interlocked her fingers with his and closed her eyes. He stretched out his left arm to tuck under her neck. She raised her head then rested on his arm. Miguel’s heart was racing.

Abruptly, there was a loud rustle of leaves and he felt fur and rough canvas brush up against his backside. “Hey, I’m not Harper, but I’m next in line,” Jordan joked. The girls laughed. Ethan went in next.

Zack covered the brothers with more bedding. Then he walked to the front of the group and thanked Brett for doing the watch. Brett smiled amiably. Zack grabbed a handful of leafy branches and tapped Janna on the shoulder. She squinted up at him, half-asleep. “I’ll be squeezing in beside you, okay?”

She grunted and told him not to block the fire. He chuckled, settled in front of Janna, and dropped the branches over his body. He watched the fire, and he watched Brett, who was sitting with his back to the group. Don’t make me regret showing you mercy, Brett, he thought.

As the group fell quickly into a deep sleep, Miguel lay wide awake. His nerves had settled down, but his mind was still racing. He’d never expected it to happen this way, but here she was, in his arms. Damon had told him to be good to her and he planned on doing just that. He was going to make her a million promises and kiss her a million times. He kissed the back of her shoulder. She murmured but didn’t stir. She had fallen asleep in his arms, and he felt her warm breath skim across his forearm.

3

Brett sat on a large rock, facing the fire and considering his options.

His favorite option was to return to the landing zone. On the way, he would snag the lifeless foot hanging from the tree and would tell Cloud Nine it belonged to the dead CEO. He’d say the group perished fighting the giant worm and that he barely made it out alive. The company would transfer him back and give him his money. After that, he was certain they would shut down the system, leaving the crew members stranded forever in the quantum landscape. Why wouldn’t they? Once they knew the mission was a failure, they’d be required to shut down the banned game world.

Brett smiled at that prospect. He wasn’t sure if shutting the realms down would kill the other nine members, but he hoped not. He preferred imagining them stranded in Epiphany with no hope of getting out. He could see their faces now, struggling desperately to contact the company. The anguish they would experience warmed his heart. It would not be easy climbing up that tree on his own, but he had a plan for that too. He’d hammer the push daggers into the tree and continuously regenerate them using Weapon Refresh, employing them as grips and steps to scale up the tree. Once he got close, he’d use the lance to pry the foot from the glitch.

But there were issues with the plan. He’d be traveling at night, which would increase the chances of being attacked. And he wasn’t sure the push dagger plan would really work. He could end up falling to his death.

As he stared at the fire, he inhaled deeply, trying to relax his body. He wondered if he was feeling the effects of the heightened emotional response Walker had alluded to. Maybe I shouldn’t have faked the psychological evaluation? At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. He’d already had personal issues at the hospital, and he didn’t want a less-than-stellar psych eval blowing his chance at the Epiphany mission. It’s not Epiphany messing with your head, he tried to convince himself. You have every right to be angry!

Angry enough to kill someone? He thought about the beating he was still suffering the effects from. They were willing to kill him, weren’t they?

Why are you questioning yourself? he asked himself. Brett returned to assessing his plans. Plan B was more long term. He’d retrieve the hatchet, then wait until he and Zack were alone again. He’d kill the orc and go back to the landing zone then. Or he could tell the team that Zack had been attacked. If I waited long enough, I might even obtain a better weapon to kill Zack with. But for the plan to work, he’d have to build trust within the team, and especially with the Marine. That would be tedious.

Brett had a plan C, but it didn’t appeal to him. He could actually try to change. Forget everything that had happened and attempt to fit in with the team. A part of him really wanted that. He still desperately craved acceptance, and he felt he could eventually get it from this group. But they turned a blind eye to what Zack did to you!

That was right. They allowed the fucking grunt to drag him into the woods and beat him. It wasn’t even a fair fight. The orc outmatched him by at least one hundred and fifty pounds and two feet. He almost killed you, Brett. That’s the group you’re looking for acceptance from? Come on, Brett, you’re smarter than that!

He sighed. Why had life changed so much after Eliza? It was like she’d put a curse on him. Although Brett was a respected professional making good money, women treated him like an outcast. She did this to him.

He’d accepted the rescue mission hoping it would be a life reset. Cloud Nine thought the money would entice him, but Brett had signed up believing the experience would fundamentally change him. That he’d shed the loser aura he had been saddled with. But in just one day, he was an outcast again. The women in the group thought he was a creep, and the men disrespected him.

Brett stared at the flames, feeling miserable and loathing himself. This group wasn’t going to accept him. They were trying to change him. Brett made his decision. He would play nice and wait for his chance to kill. Maybe he could exact his vengeance on the entire team. God knew they deserved it. You don’t have what it takes to carry that out, his mind argued, and years of denial and rejection flooded back.

Yes, I do, he agonized. I fucking do! Brett thrust his left hand into the fire. The pain was exquisite, but he didn’t pull back. He watched as his fingers blistered and cracked. His mind screamed at him to draw his hand out of the flames, but he ignored the impulse. He thought about Eliza, about the women he dated and the rejection he’d endured. And he thought about Zack. He finally pulled his hand back and gaped as smoke rose from his cracked skin. His fingertips had turned as black as coal. The nail on his middle finger was dangling loosely from his cuticle.

The fuck finger, he thought.

Despite the raging pain in his hand, he felt better now, more at ease with his decision. His muscles finally relaxed. In a couple of hours, he would climb up the cavern and recover the hatchet. But for now, he was content to stare at the fire.

In the fire’s crimson glow, a grotesque smile grew on Brett’s face. It stretched into something twisted and not human. Blood started flowing from his nose again, running over his upper lip. Silver tears streamed down his cheeks and into his mouth. As the tears reached the blood on his teeth, they bloomed like a watercolor. The tears and the blood continued for several minutes.

And Brett’s smile grew wider.

4

Harper was lumbering up the cavern. It was the middle of the night and she was wearing just her underwear. Am I sleepwalking? she pondered. She could feel the frigid night air against her skin. A strong wind blew down the cavern, sweeping her hair back. As her bare feet pressed against the sharp rock, her skin punctured and blood dripped onto its surface.

What am I doing?

She couldn’t stop herself. It was like she was on a treadmill. As she continued up the tunnel, she glanced to her right and noticed a hatchet made of wood and bone. Her feet drove her toward the cave opening, which loomed ahead of her like an opened mouth. She could see stars in the night sky. Her left foot stomped onto a sharp piece of slate and her heel busted open like a squashed grape. She cried out painfully. Harper limped and leaned to her right side, but she couldn’t stop her legs. With every step, her left heel fanned out against the cavern floor. Her calcaneus bone scraped roughly across the hard stone.

Is this another dream? she wondered dimly.

She reached the cave opening. The wind was stronger here. Gooseflesh rose on her skin. As her blood dribbled onto the pine needles at the cave’s edge, Harper looked ahead into the forest. God, why is this happening to me?

She saw an obscure blue shape shuffling out the black forest. As the figure moved through the trees, she identified more details and recognized her dead sister. Please, not this again. Under the starlight, Harper saw her clearer now. Her sister’s eyes were gone, replaced by dark holes. Her nose and ears had rotted away. What skin she still had was stretched tightly over her skull. Megan wore the same yellow dress she was buried in, only now it was filthy and ragged. It hung loosely from her skeletal frame.

The corpse stopped a few feet from Harper. “Maarpber…” the thing croaked, struggling to articulate the words through her tongue-less mouth. “Isssss… hhhhothhhoorrrrrae. Yhou have ooheb him.”

Realization dawned on Harper’s face. “I have to help him? I have to help him? I have to help who?” she pleaded.

The Megan-thing nodded. “Warh him! Warh him aboubbhrawhhhreee abbs!”

Harper tried to comprehend her dead sister as she repeated the same words, over and over again. “Whhhree abbs, meee abbs!”

Harper concentrated but couldn’t make sense of it. Frustrated, she started crying. “Megan… Megan, what is it?” she sobbed. As she stepped toward her sister, pain shot up her left leg and the world started swaying. The Megan-thing tried to speak again, but the vision was slipping away. With the wisps of her dream still clouding her mind, Harper recognized the cave and the canopy of branches.

Miguel was shaking her softly. “Harper, you were crying in your sleep. I think you were having a nightmare,” he whispered.

“No,” she cried.

“It’s okay. It was just a dream, Harper.”

She turned to face him, clutching at his body. Emma moaned behind her. As tears streaked down her face, Miguel held her tight. He murmured that it was okay, everything was going to be alright. But Harper couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d just missed an opportunity. Her sister was warning her about something significant. She thought about the words and phrases her dead sister had used, but couldn’t make sense of them. She pulled Miguel tighter. He kissed her forehead and tried to soothe her back to sleep. It took a long time, but eventually, Harper drifted off.