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Chapter 186
🕑 Added 2024-06-24 13:12:29 +0000 UTCThe Seven-Ten Bowling Alley, Etson - 7:56 PM
I readied myself as I tuned out everything else. The ball I held in my hand was not the regulation breaking 30 pound lunker I had inherited from Boss Steener. This 14 pounder was a custom specimen that rocked a shining gold sheen, had “Boss Anthony Franklin” in bold letters along with the Sol Ligatus emblem, and was chosen for its aggressive hook.
It had taken me only one game before I got back into the swing of things. There were a lot of things that I had been proud of during my time in the system, and my bowling prowess was up there. I understood that it was something small in the grand scheme of things, but it was something that I chose for myself to learn and get better at. The fact that it came with a whole quest line involving Filbins helped, but that just made the choice easier.
The fact that I could bowl as well as I could without the superhuman Strength or Dexterity had filled me with joy. It reaffirmed that I had learned the sport to its highest level even though I had been built for success.
I sent the bowling ball rocketing down the lane. It went dangerously close to the gutter, almost seeming to tip in, before it curved dramatically to the left near the end. That satisfying crashing noise rang out, and I watched as every pin before me fell.
“Yeah! That’s the man right there!” Jeff shouted from our seats. He raised his beer to toast me as I returned to where we were sitting. “See? What did I tell you? Memory lapse or whatever, he’ll get back in the swing of things quick.”
“Out of everything you can do running through the apocalypse a hundred times, you choose to make bowling a recurring hobby,” came the voice of our third.
“You’re just jealous because you’re only beating Jeff, Coe,” I laughed. He harrumphed before standing up to get his ball. I gave the older man a slight nod before taking a seat next to Jeff.
Coe Valen had been an enigma for a lot of my early runs. The grandfatherly Kansas native had been reluctant to leave his state at first, but once he did he became a scenario-clearing monster. He was widely regarded as the world’s best tank, and I agreed. There were only a handful of people who I thought were guaranteed to make it to the end, and he was at the top of the list.
The class he had always picked, Rubberbuilt, was a powerful one. It focused on damage nullification, damage reflection not only for himself but a large group, and counters. There weren't a lot of ways for him to cause damage besides getting hit, but he made up for that with a selection of low cooldown attack skills.
Just like the Warmind, Rubberbuilt had a six class specific armor set that augmented his abilities. By the endgame, it allowed him to avoid damage more frequently while keeping his counters and reflects active. I had once watched him stand inside a barrage of bullets, projectiles, and magic for nearly ten seconds, hands in his rubber pockets, and everyone around him fell dead instead.
Thankfully, he was an honorable sort. Aside from being a sore loser, anyway, but I wouldn’t fault him for that. If I hadn't made it to the Hall of the End, he would have. I wasn’t sure if he’d have made the same choice, though. From what I heard, he looked at me like I was crazy when I said I’d done this 100 times.
Which was the right reaction, all things considered.
“So this memory lapse thing,” Coe said as he picked up his ball. “You deal with it every few months?”
I offered him a lopsided smile. “That’s what I’ve been told. It’s not a bad trade since it means I can be like this with all of you.”
Looking off into the distance, Coe eventually nodded. “I’ll concede to that,” he said as he picked up an ice blue loaner ball. “I’m surprised, though. With your pa-“
His lips continued to move, but the sound of pins being knocked down and cheers from a nearby group made it all but impossible to hear what he was saying.
“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” I said apologetically.
Coe frowned. “I said I’m surprised because you always seemed so p-“
Another strike, but this time it was in tandem with a celebratory whoop while the rest of the group groaned as they lost the game.
“Yeah, I don’t know, man,” I said, shrugging. Frowning, the older man turned and readied his ball.
“You catch what he was saying?” Jeff asked.
I shook my head. “Not a damn clue,” I admitted. “Something about something. As gentlemanly as Coe is, never ask him to repeat himself more than twice. It really irks him for some reason. I can’t remember it, but I’d put down good money betting that he said something similar to measure twice and cut once when I told him I’d ran the apocalypse 100 times.”
“Yeah, I can see it,” Jeff said with a nod. “Well, at least he’s polite about it. There were a lot of people out there with a less than gracious personality near the end. At the beginning, too, but I mean the endgame endgame.”
“I get you, Jeff,” I said with a chuckle. “Congrats on the kid, by the way.”
“Aww man, I forgot Sara said she already spilled the beans,” he sighed. “I was planning on springing that on you once Coe left for the evening.”
“Please don’t hold it against her, alright?” I requested, reaching out and tapping him on the arm with my fist. “She was so excited to tell me. Sara didn’t have any kind of social group before this, so I hope any faux pas can be overlooked.”
“Oh, no, we’re cool,” Jeff said as he pulled out his phone. He started going through it before offering it to me. “She’s been taking pictures of cats and dogs she sees and sends them to me as penance for letting it slip.”
I smiled as I scrolled through them. Just like my texts with Jeff, Sara’s was full of pictures of Corwin and a few of Kayla. However, she sent back a ton of pictures of dogs, cats, and other cute animals. Even a moose on one occasion, which seemed like a weird choice but still neat. I gave him his phone back once I was done.
“I see you two have come to an understanding,” I said with a laugh.
“Kayla’s thankful, at least,” he admitted. “I still send her pictures, but she doesn’t really like it when I cut loose too much. A few a day is the most I can get away with.”
“How is Kayla doing?” Coe asked as he returned. I glanced up to see that he had picked up a spare, and gave him a thumbs up. “I can’t imagine being with child has fazed her much.”
“She’s doing just fine,” Jeff said with a grin. “Still hopeful it’s a boy so she doesn’t have to put up with a mini-her running around, but I’ve got my fingers crossed that we have a girl, you know?”
I thought back to the last picture I had seen of them together. “She's pretty far along, shouldn’t you know by now?”
He shrugged before standing up. “Kay doesn’t want to know, so I don’t know. The only ones who do are our doctor, his staff, and Sara, probably. Of course, she refuses to indulge me in a gender reveal party, so we’ll know… eventually.”
“I’m with her on this one. Gender reveal parties are pointless,” Coe said. “You shouldn’t need a cake or explosions to tell you what you’re having. Just find out the normal way and have a regular cake.”
“Thanks for parroting what my wife says, Coe. I’ll let her know you approve,” Jeff replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. Before he could get huffy, he headed down to grab his ball.
“Hey, did you and Jeff get along back then?” I asked. “I’m really bummed that I can’t remember you two interacting. It seemed like it would have been a good fit.”
“Of course we did, he’s a golden retriever in the skin of a man,” Coe chuckled. “He may be a bit too excitable sometimes, but his heart’s in the right place.”
“Yeah, he’s a really good dude all around,” I agreed.
We watched as Jeff threw a gutter ball. He turned around and gave us a shrug before waiting at the return. Both of them were down a substantial amount of points compared to me, but he hadn’t breached 100 yet. Even though he wasn’t doing great, it was clear that he was enjoying himself.
I always liked that infectious energy of his. It made the feeling that some things weren’t quite right disappear for a while.
“Are you alright, son?” Coe asked as he set down his beer. “You’ve got that look on your face.”
“Which one?” I asked, frowning.
“The one you get when you’re thinking something unpleasant.”
I was about to answer when my phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket. Coe muttered something about kids these days, but I unlocked it to see a selfie of Sara and Kayla at the Etson Mall. Unlike the very first picture the Angel had sent me, this one was full of confidence. She had her arm around the shorter woman, and they both looked to be having a great time. Klaske wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but the Shieldmaiden never struck me as the type to enjoy being photographed.
“And now you’re smiling like a fool,” Coe said.
“Sorry, grandpa, just happy,” I teased.
“I told you to stop calling me that. I’ve got enough grandchildren to take care of without adding one more.”
“And yet, you still came to visit.”
“Just visiting some old war buddies, that’s all,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It may not have happened in this timeline, or whatever this is, but it’s good to keep up.”
Before I could reply, Jeff returned with a grand total of +4 to his score. Still, he seemed to be in high spirits. “So, I know I’ve never said this before, but enough about Kayla. Ant-”
“Hold up a moment, enough about Kayla?” I repeated incredulously. “Are you really Jeff? Are you a doppelganger? Did the golden retriever in your skin suit get replaced by a trio of trash pandas?”
That last one made him pause. “I’m sorry, huh?”
I tried not to laugh at his expression, but even Coe let out a chuckle. “What’s this about no longer talking about Kayla?”
“You, man!” he said, sitting down and punching me in the arm. “When are you and Sara finally having a kid?”
That caught me off guard, and I blinked. My thoughts wandered to the moment when Sara had announced Kayla’s pregnancy and my immediate gaze at her stomach.
“Fuck, man,” I said, if only because I didn't know what to say.
“Vulgar language and at least a few layers of blasphemy aside,” Coe started. “That is generally how two people make a child of their own, yes.”
“Ha, ha, grandpa,” I said as Jeff leaned forward and offered the old man a fist bump. He was quickly taken up on it. I shrugged when they turned their attention back to me. “What’s with people who have kids always wanting others to have kids at the same time?”
“It’s so you can all suffer together,” Coe explained. “It is easier, in a way.”
“Plus, our kids get to grow up together,” Jeff added. “Distract each other and give us some down time and stuff.”
I crossed my arms defensively. “You both know I can’t remember shit right now, why are you asking?” They deflated for a moment as my words sunk in. “Look. Maybe. That’s the only answer I can give you. I don’t even know if we’re compatible like that or even if Sara would want to or-”
“Calm down, be happy,” came a smooth voice from behind me. I hadn’t heard or sensed anyone approaching.
It made my skin crawl.
I was quick to rise out of my seat and spin around, coming face to face with a short man about my age. His face was strong and angular, and he looked up at me from behind blue bangs. Warning bells blared through my head.
“What did you say?” I demanded, a second away from grabbing the Seven-Ten alley shirt he was wearing. It looked just like Boss Steener's.
“I said, I have your beers and pretzels, sirs,” the man sighed. His voice no longer put me on edge, and he looked a little browbeaten. Frowning, I looked down at the tray he was carrying to see that it was, in fact, covered in beer bottles and pretzels.
“Thanks, Aaron!” Jeff said as he quickly took the offerings to put it on the nearby table before turning to me. “Hey, Ant, it’s your frame.”
“What was that?” I asked, not taking my eyes off of the blue haired man as he walked back towards the bowling alley’s bar. A moment later, my bowling ball was being placed into my hands. I looked down at it.
“Your frame, boss,” Jeff repeated a little more insistently.
I glanced at Coe, who looked confused by what happened, and huffed. The man was out of sight now, but if he worked here then he would probably be around for a while. There was no reason not to bowl. Without another word, I walked towards our lane.
“PTSD?” I heard Coe whisper despite the alley’s distractions.
“Yeah. Bowling’s usually a safe space,” Jeff explained, though he was much louder. The man couldn’t whisper properly to save his life. “There’s a procedure, depending on how well he does.”
I scowled at that, but didn’t turn around. It made sense that Jeff knew what Sara’s procedure was. Kayla probably knew it by heart, too. Taking my stance, I looked at the pins ahead of me.
They blurred in my vision as ten pins turned into twenty. The ball trembled in my hands, and it suddenly felt far heavier than I knew it was.
Closing my eyes and taking a breath, that made things worse. For the first time, I realized that Charlie Daniels’ The Devil Went Down To Georgia was playing throughout the alley. That was the only record the Seven-Tenner Filbins had gotten their hands on, and they had it turned to max volume constantly. The image of Boss Steener and his crew fighting against the Writhing Juggernaut was pulled to the front of my mind.
The employee, Aaron, had hair the same color as the boss.
Before I knew it, I had tossed the ball. Straight down the middle, and it was no surprise that it hooked into the gutter long before it made it to the pins. Out of habit, I focused on the bowling ball and willed it back onto the lane. With my power, it would have been easy to get it back where it belonged and on the right path again even if it was a small bit of cheating.
It didn’t. The ball remained in the gutter until it hit the end, and it disappeared to be returned.
For the first time in a long time, I felt an anxiety that I couldn’t shut down. My body shook no matter how hard I fought against it.
I felt an arm around my shoulder and I almost flipped them before I realized it was Jeff. He turned me, phone in his free hand as he started leading me back. I let him do it, glad that he was here. Coe appeared concerned, but I couldn’t look at him.
“We're never free from war, Anthony,” he said softly. “But the worst of it is behind you. Just enjoy your own personal Heaven, and it’ll all be okay.”
Jeff led me outside and around the building. “I have Sara coming to pick you up,” he said, checking his phone again. He still hadn’t let me go. “But I’m here for you, boss. Always will be.”
“Thanks, Jeff. Thanks.”
“Sara said I could tell you a bit about Pittsburgh’s ending if you need something to take your mind off of things,” Jeff offered before lowering his voice. “Or if you want her to teleport here, that’s an option.”
I didn’t need to think about that long before I shook my head. “Nah, I already feel bad that you had to call her and break up her girl’s night. You’re good, Jeff.”
He tapped out a message before leading me to a bench. We sat and he set it down beside him. It was hot out even with the sun setting, but neither of us complained.
“Alright, so, Greg, right?” Jeff asked, seemingly starting his story that way.
“Fuck that guy,” I said.
“Yeah, fuck that guy,” he agreed, nodding. “Jamie cut off his hand.”
Blinking, my head whipped towards him. “Excuse me?”
“It was awesome,” he said with a grin. “So, once the Cathedral of Learning was up and active, everyone got invited to find it.”
“Yeah, that’s standard,” I told him, turning to face him so I could see him better.
“While you were still asleep, he came to the train,” he stopped, shaking his head. “Well, the shack and, after learning you hadn’t returned yet, demanded we lead him there. Because of course we would know, and apparently you told him that you would let him be MVP?”
“It was a little lie,” I admitted with a shrug.
“He seemed to think it was his Sara given right since you were out of commission, and even said Jamie was there when you said it. She pretended she had no idea what he was talking about, or she was just being mean, and he went off on her calling her a blond bitch and that she probably slept her way into being MVP and it was just a huge slurry of little dick energy if I can be honest.”
I snorted. “That describes Greg to a tee.”
“Right? She didn’t take kindly to that at all,” Jeff laughed. “Jamie asked Kayla how many strikes she could level at someone before the guild really got in trouble. Answer was two, obviously. The moment she pulled her spear he was backpedaling. Like, man started sweating bullets. He tried to get one of his minions to light his cigar and they fumbled hard.”
“Bet that made him miss Olivia,” I said, my humor a little darker than anticipated.
“Didn’t even have the time. She sliced the cigar he had hanging in his mouth in half, split his lip and everything, and the moment he started complaining, Jamie took his fucking hand, man! Like halfway up to the elbow and right through his armor. And, get this, Ant,” Jeff said, leaning in.
I leaned in to match his energy.
“Dude straight fell to the ground, right? Fear all over his face. Pretty sure he wet himself, but get this,” he said, lowering his voice. “Jamie got down real low. None of his minions helped, they looked like they were about to flee. She got down really low and placed a hand on his shoulder. He wanted to back away, but he couldn’t. Jamie was strong, man. But she got close to him and said…”
Jeff cleared his throat before putting on his best Jamie impression. “I want you to be 100% clear that I don’t have a problem killing you, you absolute shitstain. The only reason why you’re still alive right now is because Anthony declared that he would bring down the wrath of the Heavens on you, and that sounds way more entertaining than simply stabbing you in the heart.”
“Then she got even closer,” he said, doing the same before slipping back into his impression. “By the time he sees you, you’re going to want to have had your come to God moment, because he’s going to pull straight from the holy book when he deals with you.”
“Really?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.
He shrugged. “A little embellished. Just a little, but it’s mostly true” Jeff answered before becoming more serious. “Greg’s missing a hand and is waiting for your divine judgment. Remember it, okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll remember that he’s…” I furrowed my brow, looking away as I thought about it. “Waiting? Don’t you mean-“
I looked up to see that Jeff was grinning and pointing at me. “You’re out of your funk, aren’t you?” he asked. I took a moment to assess myself and found that I was actually feeling alright, and I nodded. He pumped a fist in celebration. “Alright! Just had to shock you out of it. Nothing to it, boss.”
I laughed. “I guess. Still feel bad about pulling Sara away from the girls.”
“That’s the best part. Told her I’d handle it,” he said, still grinning. “C’mon, man, I know you. I know the procedure. I’ve got you, boss, forever! Now, you wanna go home or back to bowling? Coe probably ate all the pretzels by now but we can finish the game..”
“Damn. You’re good, Jeff,” I replied as I patted him on the back. “Let’s finish out this game, then I’ll be fine to head home.”
“My man!” he exclaimed, hyping me up as he bounced out of his seat. “Shame about the spare you’re about to pick up, but hey, sometimes shit happens.”
“Sometimes, indeed, Jeff,” I agreed. “Sometimes, indeed.”
Comments
Andrew Nichols
Not gonna lie....this is Hella wholesome. Like, super laid back but you know it's almost..therapeutic gor what's happened so far. Like he finally gets time to process without rushing to the next goal. Super great chapter. Thank you, Floss
