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BLAKE

The Haunted Amusement Park was quiet as Blake dropped into Red World . He’d used the app to ping King Killer, asking him if he could play. But he’d received no answer.

Now he moved through the game, avoiding rather than killing a skeleton gang in a Hummer to conserve his energy. The sky was dark here, purple lightning streaking the sky every so often. If you happened to get struck, you got X-ray vision for a while. But it was totally random, a gift from whoever was running the game. Blake had never been struck; it was on his wish list.

He used a magic bean to grow a vine and go up high and scope out the landscape. No sign of King Killer.

His breathing was shallow, shoulders aching. Violet leaned over him. She was saying something, but he couldn’t hear her over the sounds of the game in his headphones. He ignored her. She wasn’t real at the moment. There was only the game.

He used the communication system to send Hugo a message. “Hey, brah. I need a trade. You still want what I have?”

“What are you doing on here, loser?”

Marco. His hulking avatar moved from the other side of roller coaster. A car of screaming zombies raced toward them. Marco used his rocket launcher to blow it up, and it disappeared in a mushroom cloud.

“I don’t have time for you, Marco,” said Blake.

“Oh, really.” Marco pulled out his axe. “Make time.”

Blake could not afford to die right now. Then it would be at least another ten minutes before he could get back on the game. And that might be too late for his mom.

He remembered what Gregg said in the car. Don’t let anyone push you around.

He pulled out his machine gun and squared off to Marco.

“When’d you get that?” asked Marco, envy pulling his tone taut.

“Walk away, Marco,” said Blake. “Go play somewhere else. I don’t want to kick your ass here, too, but I will.”

“I’ll make your life a living hell tomorrow at flesh school.” But his voice sounded weaker, less menacing. Maybe Gregg was right; maybe you only had to get tough once.

“No,” he said, “you won’t. Because I’m never going to let you touch me again.”

“Ooh, someone grew a backbone. I’m shaking.” He lifted his axe and moved closer.

“I’m sorry,” said Blake. “I’m sorry that your family got hurt because of my family. But I can’t let you fuck with me anymore.”

Blake felt something like relief move through him. Something about seeing his dad again, so tired and old-looking, about needing to be strong for his mother, Violet crying when usually she raged. They needed him. He couldn’t let his shame and the Marcos of the world make him small. Not anymore.

Marco came hollering, axe raised high.

But before he could swing, Blake used the machine gun to obliterate Marco into a thousand green pieces, like confetti.

“You’re dead, Blake,” Marco yelled as he got shunted from the game.

Blake just smiled. He knew he dominated here, and now in the real world, too.

“Whoa,” said King Killer. “That was sick.”

Blake turned to see his friend. His avatar today was a scary clown, with a pile of rainbow hair and big red shoes. Hugo wasn’t about violence: he was just there for the prizes, the Red Coin, and the skins. He never fought and had no weapons. That was one of the things Blake liked best about him. That, and he knew all about the secret doors and passageways in the game and was happy to share. Turned out he also knew about things like that in the real world. He was a spelunker. It was Hugo who told him about the casitas on the property. And how he knew a secret way in and out of Enchantments.

“I need your help, King Killer,” Blake said. “In the real world.”

“What’s in it for me?”

Blake reached into his pack and pulled out the peach. It glowed in his hand and cast everything around him in a rose-gold light.

King Killer released a low sigh of desire.

“Name your price, brah.”