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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Night in the Basement"  by Nostrum You briefly heft the mask, pondering if you could catch the intruder unaware. Then you slip it into your book bag with your laptop and the book. There's no time to pack up anything else. Whoever is looking for you is moving deeper into the basement, pushing aside furniture as they go, and leaving you a clear path to the stairs. Their back is to you when you peep out of the "tunnel" you made. You hesitate for just a moment, then slip out, shuffling as quietly as you can. But then a step creaks under you foot as you mount the staircase. "Who's there?" someone calls, and you hurl yourself the rest of the way up and scramble out the door. As you dash for the nearest corner of the school, you glimpse two figures off by the street. One is a middle-aged black man, husky and clean-shaven, wearing a beret and a bright green polo shirt. The other is a tall, athletic man with short blonde hair and aviator glasses, in the brown-and-tan uniform of the sheriff's department. "Sam! Mills!" someone shouts behind you as you sprint around the corner. There's a car parked on the nearby street, and you dive behind it to hide. You peer out, gulping down raw oxygen, and watch as three figures run past the front of school and around the far corner. When they are out of sight, you double back the way you came, take the first street away from the school, and jog home. Halfway there, you remember that Caleb has your house keys. -- "You sure done fucked up, didn't you?" Caleb rebukes you sternly. It's a little after one, and he met you in Acheson's small business district after you texted him about your escape from "the base." You ignore him and continue wolfing down the cheap sandwich and bag of chips you bought at a convenience store. He's taken off the mask he was wearing, and as you sit together in the tiny civic square with its memorial statue and gazebo, he is studying the book that you used to make it, glancing between it and his phone. "Fucked us up good," he mutters. "Dude, what did you want me to do? Stay there and tell them I was a hobo?" "Could'a fooled 'em." He doesn't look up from the book. "You could use a haircut, y'know. And a shave!" "Why?" You're proud of your hair. Not too short to look like a dork, not too long to look like a grunge player, and at the right length to simply tuft through your ball cap. "I like it like this." "I agree with your dad. You won't get a job if you don't tidy up a bit." "What, are you my dad now too?" Caleb picks up the mask you finished polishing. "I could be with this." You throw a death glare on him. "You wouldn't!" "Dude, of course not!" Caleb guffaws with a honking laugh, patting your shoulder vigorously. "No offense, but why would I wanna look like your dad?" "Stop joking about that!" "I don't get it," Caleb exclaims, looking at you deeply in the eye. "Your dad's not so bad, y'know. Bit stern, yeah, but not that bad. You can reason with him." "Why do you say that?" "Well ..." Caleb turns down the phone, grinning. "Guess who's gonna be working at Salopek next Tuesday!?" Your expression falls. "Lemme guess. Me." "Almost. He really wanted you to take that job. I almost took it on your behalf." He rubs the other mask, the one with your face in it. "I could pass as you." "Ugh. Don't tell me you jerked off to being me." "To you? Eww, no, what the hell!" Caleb flinches, but he laughs. "I did jerk off with your junk, though." "Dude, tee-em-eye!" Now it's your turn to flinch. "Don't wanna hear that! So what's up with the new page? You doing a translation of the spell?" "That and checking prices online. Unless you've got some cash hidden away someplace, we're not going to be able to do it." "Why not?" "It uses a completely different set of materials." He points out at some of the words. "Goldsmithing stuff, to inscribe in metal. And metal strips, too. Could be expensive. Plus, thanks to your fuck up, we have to buy more stuff to replace what you left back in the basement to be confiscated." "Dude, I told you, it was run away or get caught!" "I know, I know, but it sets us back." Caleb rubs his forehead, sighing. "I'll try to find a cheaper source of supplies while we wait for my first check." "So you're paying for it? Awesome!" He gives you a look. "It also means you'll have to wait to make a mask that you can wear. We got no sealant." You shrug, and he sighs and closes the book. But when he starts to put it into his own book bag, you grab his wrist. "Hey, what are you doing?" "Putting things away. I gotta get home." "Not with my property!" "What do you need it for, Will?" "What do you need it for?" you retort. "Well, for a start, I need it so I can look for the ingredients we need to get so I can start finding a cheap source for them!" He returns your glare with one of his own, but you don't relent, and finally he gives up. "Fine, fine! But let me hang on to it just until tomorrow, so I can make a shopping list." "And I'll hang on to the masks," you say, and slip them into your own bag. "Whatever," Caleb snorts. "And while I'm getting us some new shit, how about you look for a new place for us to work." "Fair enough." "You bet your ass it is. And maybe this time," he acidly adds, "try to find one where your brother's dumb friends won't spot you when you go out for ice!" -- Despite your promise to Caleb, though, you've still not given up on the old school basement. What if the cops decide it was just a hobo they scared off, and leave it as it was? There's a good chance, too, that they haven't found the stuff you were forced to leave behind. Then you'd be able to make more masks and sealant without having to wait for Caleb to buy more stuff. So after dropping Caleb off at his place, you casually swing by the community center on your way home. Ugh. There's a patrol car parked on the grass just outside the basement. Worse, the door is blocked off with yellow tape. You curse your luck. But you also want a closer look, so you turn into the side lot in front of the door. You intend to cover your move by backing out and returning the way you came—as though you're just turning around, not snooping—but you pause when you see who it is leaning against the patrol car. It's the deputy you saw before. But this time you get a better look, and see that it's not a man. It's a woman! Her hair is trimmed short, which is probably why you thought she was a man when you glimpsed her earlier. But with a better view like now— Wow! In that tight uniform, there's no missing her firm breasts, her killer calves, or her lean, hourglass figure. She looks up at you as you pull up nearby, but despite her squint she looks attractive as well. She glances up at you only briefly, though, then looks back down at her phone. You reverse, back out, and return the way you came. But then you double back and park on the other side of the community center, in the actual parking lot. You can't see the deputy or her patrol car from here—the building is between you and her—but you've decided to give her ten minutes, and then you'll get out and stroll around the old playground very nonchalantly to see if she's still there. Because it looks to you like there's a pretty good chance she is going to leave, and then maybe you can get back into the basement. But as you wait, another thought occurs to you. You've got that blank mask with you, the one that you finished polishing just this morning. If you snuck around got it onto that deputy, you could definitely knock her out long enough to get into the basement, and you'd have a copy of a sexy sheriff's deputy. But if you can't get it onto her without her seeing you, then she might remember your face and truck after she woke up again. Is that a risk worth running? Next: "Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Awkward Fire" |
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