“It must be this way,” I told Staci as we rounded the corner of yet another hallway in a mostly-deserted office building.

  “This place is mostly empty,” Staci observed. “Why don’t we just get out of here and let the bomb go off? The only people here are trying to kill us anyway.”

  “You know we can’t let that happen!” I scolded her. “Follow me. And stay low.” I peeked around the corner to confirm that nobody was waiting in the open hallway to kill us. They must have been lying in wait, behind the many open doorways that dotted the hallway that led to a conference room.

  “It has to be this way,” she insisted. “See those blinking lights?” The conference room was sealed off by a door, but a telltale red light blinked periodically in the thin crack between the door and the drab hallway floor.

  “I’m sure it is,” I agreed. “But we can’t just blunder down the hallway. We’ll be killed!”

  “Blunder!” she laughed. “Can you go a minute without talking like a nerd?”

  “Come on, Staci!” I pleaded. “You’re supposed to be the smart one, aren’t you?”

  “Apparently not!” she scoffed. “I let you talk me into this, didn’t I?”

  “Just be careful,” I told her. “Like you said, the only other people here are trying to kill us.”

  “Careful is my middle name,” Staci bragged as she crouched down and scooted quickly down the empty hallway.

  “I thought it was Antonia,” I mused.

  “Shut up!” was her clever retort as she shuffled past an open doorway.

  “Staci, watch the door!” I shouted, but it was too late. A bright flash emanated from the open doorway along with the sharp crack of gunfire. In the same instant, Staci’s head was obliterated into a gory mess. “Dammit!” I cried as my childhood friend-turned enemy turned-crush’s body fell limp to the floor. She could not have survived. I would have to lament my situation later. Alone and certainly outnumbered, I continued on my foolish quest.

  Whoever had just murdered Staci had to know that I was coming. I fumbled for a grenade, deciding that would be the quickest and safest way to eliminate that threat. If I had simply tossed the grenade into the office immediately after pulling the pin, the assailant would likely have plenty of time to grab the explosive and fling it back at me and laugh as I was killed by my own device. I decided that cooking it off for two seconds might give them just enough time to foolishly approach the grenade before it exploded in their face. That would at least be a partially satisfying revenge for what they had done to Staci.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  I had cooked the grenade off for about a second when automatic gunfire chattered from behind me. Several rounds impacted me and flung me forward to the floor. The grenade flew out of my hands and landed next to Staci’s lifeless body. Ignoring the rounds that ripped into my body, depleting what little life I had remaining, I gazed in horror as the grenade exploded, scattering Staci’s limbs and guts in multiple directions. Not only had I failed to avenge her, I had been directly responsible for the complete desecration of her body. As my vision faded to my inevitable demise, my final sight was of my attacker standing over my head and they began to crouch down and stand up repeatedly.

  “Quit tea-bagging me, Steve!” I shouted into my headset.

  “It isn’t me!” Steve protested through my earpiece. The TV screen faded to darkness before showing me an overhead view of my corpse and the masked figure that taunted it. The tag ‘pOUNDtown6969’ was displayed above them.

  “Monica?” I exclaimed. Staci and Monica laughed uproariously through the headset.

  “It’s part of my ritual!” Monica explained.

  “You’re sick,” I told her, unable to contain my own snicker. “Seriously, though. You two shouldn’t be allowed on the same team.”

  “We’re over an hour away from each other,” Steve explained. This is our only chance to bond.” He had a point, all four of us had been separated for three weeks, the three of them at college and myself stuck living above a bar in our hometown.

  “Yeah,” Monica agreed. “And you two are so cute working together on missions!”

  “Is it cute when we get torn to shreds?” I asked. “How did you sneak up behind us anyway?”

  “I was hiding behind the watercooler. I thought I was dead meat when you two came past but you didn’t notice.”

  “You could have killed us from behind at any time for the last minute?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t want to take all the fun away from Steve.”

  “You two are sick!” I laughed. “That’s why you’re perfect for each other.”

  “I know!” Steve agreed. “Monica is my adorable little psychopath.”

  “Speaking of psychopath,” I pivoted, “Staci, can I ask you something?”

  “Oh, look the time!” Steve observed. “I gotta drop off. Monica, want to join me on FaceChat?”

  “Sure!” Monica agreed. “Later, cuties!”

  A couple of high-pitched plopping sounds announced their exit from our game of Call of Battle: Shangai Terror SIX, leaving Staci and me alone in the multiplayer menu.

  “What’s up, Peckerhead?” Staci asked. Even though there was currently no animosity between us, Staci stuck with the nickname she had given me when she decided we were better off as enemies at age twelve. It honestly felt weird if she called me Robbie in anything but the most somber of situations.

  I took a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could come up there and take you to dinner on Friday night. Or, are you too busy?”

  There was a moment of silence before Staci answered. “No, I shouldn’t be too bust. We can do that.”

  I realized I had been holding my breath waiting for her answer. “Awesome!” I shouted. “You’re going to love the van Allison’s dad sold me!”

  “I’m sure it’s just as classy as you are,” Staci agreed with playful sarcasm.

  “I’m sure it’s nicer than the backseats you’re used to,” I clapped back. I wouldn’t normally speak like that, but Staci tended to enjoy lighthearted viciousness.

  “I can’t wait!” Staci agreed. “My last class ends at two, so you can come up whenever.”

  “I’ll cut out of work a little early to get there at a decent time, but I’ll chat with you when it get’s a little closer.”

  “Sound’s good,” Staci affirmed. “One question, though…”

  “Yes?” I asked.

  “You’re still not banging Sal, are you?” It was a valid question.