Bone Diggers Chapter Thirty Three

Loading... Chapter Thirty Three

Daniel heard his name being shouted over the roar of the falls. No, he heard Owen's name being called.

Owen flinched as he woke, staring at the edge of the water that made him wonder where he was. The picture shook as he realized his headset was being pulled at, a small gasp escaping his lips as he sat up on the couch. He reached up to pull off the headgear, but it seemed too light and lifted off without much effort. Owen blinked up at a startled Charlie standing over him, with their hands frozen in the air.

"Christ, man. Are you okay?" Charlie asked, quickly setting the headgear down to turn back.

"Lucas," Owen said sounding lost. "Are they—"

"They're dead." Charlie kneeled down to be more on Owen's level.

The change of heights allowed Owen to spot Neal standing by the door. Spare keys in hand, expression shifting to concern as Owen made eye contact. "I need to get to Paris," Owen mumbled like he was half asleep.

This time, Charlie touched his arm. "Owen, I've been worried about you all day. You know you aren't meant to fall asleep with that shit on. Do you know where you are?"

Owen shook his head, not as an answer, but to separate himself from the fog he felt. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He glanced up as Neal moved closer. "Either of you."

"You hadn't until I got here," Neal said, as a wrinkle ran between his brow.

Despite not drinking last night, a hangover-like headache had settled in. Owen got up, glancing at them both before walking to the kitchen. He felt their eyes follow him before looking at one another. Whatever the fuck happened last night, Owen didn't want to talk about it. He picked up an empty glass, and filled it with water as someone stepped into the kitchen with him.

"What happened last night? I texted you."

Owen shifted, taking a drink as he pulled out his phone. He found a few from Charlie, most notably an open-ended 'WTF', and a text from Andreah he had never gotten around to. "Huh." Owen looked back to Charlie who skeptically stared. "It was nice of you to check on me, but I'm fine."

"That doesn't exactly answer my question."

He evaded it for a moment longer, watching as Neal picked up the headset like a broken toy. "I'm not even sure," Owen said. "We found something, but I don't think we were ever meant too. The quest was just soo long. I must've fallen asleep."

Charlie nodded, but they didn't look completely convinced. "I was dropped into the End Game screen. Is Daniel okay?"

"He's alive." Owen could remember the drumming sound of the falls. The sound numbed his senses more than easing him asleep like he suggested to Charlie and Neal. He didn't recall leaving the cave, just Daniel soaked at the water's edge.

"Well, that's not nothing."

"Shit, Lucas," Owen nearly repeated from before. It suddenly clicked that he was standing across someone he got killed the night before. Charlie had put in so much time in that character. "I'm so sorry. The whole mission was my idea. I can't even—"

"Stop."

Owen instantly did, swallowed roughly, and waited to be reprimanded.

"It's fine. I mean, I was thinking about playing a girl next anyways. The game's whole forced gender binary thing throws me off."

Did Charlie really not blame him for anything? Owen studied their expression, wondering if they were lying just because they were worried. "Well, I'll miss my favorite Rivera descendant all the same."

Charlie smiled. "Me too."

Neal slipped into view, but still kept an observational distance. Before he could speak, Owen's phone started ringing. It was still in his hand, so he swiped to answer it. If Owen wanted his friends to leave him be, it was best to pretend everything was normal. "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Paul. I wanted to check on the progress about my stolen account?"

Right. The bone digger job that Owen keep forgetting about. Jobs about cash trades gone bad never paid well. Clients already felt ripped off, so they didn't want to pay extra for revenge, names, or whatever else. Owen glanced over to the random magnets on his fridge. "Oh, yeah. I have a lead. But I also have people over right now, can I call you back?"

Owen wasn't even sure how many lies that made today. Or if that even counted as a lie. His guess was the guy's character had been killed off after all the items got willed over to a new character. It was a simple matter of checking the kill list and going from there. The lie of it was this wasn't a new lead, he said he'd do it days ago. After a meaningless pleasantry, they hung up.

"Sorry, I forgot about this job. You guys can hang out if you want, but..."

Charlie wasn't buying it, but Owen not opening up lately was par for the course. They had pestered Neal to let them check in, but didn't want to push further. "Just, give us a call sometime? We could get out of the house, like old times?"

Owen walked to his desk, turning in his chair to look at them both, and tried to ignore what Charlie meant. "Yeah, the moment I get this done."

Neal had something to say this time. "We now know your phone still works, so answer us when we text you."

"I promise I will not miss another friend-going-into-labor moment."

Neal nodded, before patting Charlie on the back. "Come on, let's leave him to it then."

Owen turned back to his computer and started scrolling the kill list. He didn't fully pay attention until he heard the door close a moment later. It was nice, what they were trying to do. Owen just didn't want them to do anything in the first place. Didn't they ever just want to be left alone?

The character name he was supposed to look up was Amir-something, so it shouldn't be hard to find. Even the mention of death reminded him of the flashes of Amilia last night. It wasn't the job, but he had the urge to check back.

Just when he thought he was wasting time, his eyes skipped right to it. Amilia's name. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Since when did they include NPCs on the player death list? The single line of text listed Amilia's full name, time, location of her death, and a user name of Xinshi. That wasn't his username. If a player was listed at all, it should be his name.

"The fuck's going on here," Owen mumbled. He googled the name first, and several cities with the name popped up. Then he checked the wiki and forums. Still nothing meaningful. His fingers tapped on the keyboard trying to think how else he could check this username.

Two things were known. One, the name didn't show up on the forums or any other character listing. That made it really unlikely it was just a listing error of some other active player. Two, that name seemed Chinese. Since the languages weren't close, Owen started to play around with the different versions of the vowels. A little digging, and several websites later he found a few translations.

"No way." Owen got up, grabbed his jacket, leaving the translation on his screen as he ran downstairs. Xìnshǐ: courier, messenger.

The trip there was a blur. He hardly remembered getting in the taxi, or coming up the elevator until he was standing outside of Andreah's door. When he was just about to knock, a wave of doubt hit. Maybe this was a coincidence. Maybe this all meant nothing.

No. Owen knocked on the door. This meant something.

With no answer, he tried again, hoping she'd magically appear. Nothing. He wanted answers, and he wasn't about to wait for them. The logical thing was to call her, but Owen found himself eyeing a hide-a-key lock box on an A/C unit hanging outside her apartment. He wondered if it would be difficult to crack, but once he entered the four numbers of her birth year, he realized Andreah was making this entirely too easy for anyone that knew her.

A spare key fell into his hand and he let himself in. The same empty coffee cups were scattered about. What was once cute now brought a bitter taste to his mouth, like he took an ashy last sip. He needed proof. A break in and accusations would only get him thrown out, and maybe arrested. Owen glanced around the room he'd only seen once before. He spotted a tablet on the coffee table, and instantly moved towards it.

He scrolled through a page of apps until he found Age of Shadows. As the app loaded, his chest pulled tight, hoping that it would say anything else besides Xinshi. But there it was. Six little letters that made him reel back in need of a seat.

He sat there, wondering if he should just leave, but couldn't bring himself to get up. He should just leave, forget about Andreah, and about all this. But the urge to run didn't overpower the need to know more. An hour passed before he heard a key slip into the unlocked door. She grumbled, blaming herself for forgetting to lock up. He wasn't sure if he should stand and announce himself, and only managed to lean forward by time she came in. The couch made a small creak, which caught Andreah's attention.

She glanced up and jumped. Her hand automatically reached for something nearby to defend herself. But when she realized it was Owen, she came up with nothing. "What the fuck? What are you doing here?"

He wondered if he wanted to get defensive, or get right to the point. "I needed to know something."

"Yeah, well, I need to know a lot of things too. But I don't creep into your apartment and sit on your couch till you come home. How did you even get in?"

"Not using your birthday for a password is, like, 101." Owen shook his head and finally stood up.

Andreah slowly put her bag down. "I kept forgetting any other code for it." She didn't step further into the room, nervous over whatever picture she had painted about this current situation.

Owen picked up the tablet, holding it out to her as it displayed the login screen for AoS. "Amilia. What do you have to do with her?"

"What?" she asked, a little too quickly.

"The system shows that Amilia is an NPC. Then why does the game also tie her to you?" He asked, slower this time.

"Look, I didn't mean—"

"What did you do?"

That cracked the mask she was hiding behind. She finally came inside fully, leaning against her desk rather than standing near him. Andreah hardly looked at him as she spoke. "I've just been, you know, following you throughout the game."

"How long?"

"Almost the whole time with Amilia."

Owen exhaled. He paled and needed to sit down again. All his questions felt pointless under the weight of one. "Why?"

"If I figured out who scored two NPCs, who was behind Daniel, it meant a big payday for me."

"You out-bone-diggered me."

That got Andreah's attention in a whole new way. She knew she was playing a player, but not one who also made money questionably. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean it like?" Owen's tone gained an edge of anger, and his jaw set tightly after the last word.

"Look, the moment I realized you play Daniel, I stopped. I didn't sell your name. I started closing up my part in her story."

"Your part?" Owen said, like it was the most ridiculous thing. She didn't counter before he went on. "You got her killed. Why couldn't you have left her alone? Why didn't you just fucking leave me alone?"

She stepped towards him, not quite getting in his face, but a challenge of some sort. "I needed to change things for the job. If I had left her after that, you would have noticed it. I just—I had to end the story."

"You should have left her alone." Now Owen's fingers curled into fists at his sides. "Here I was thinking I failed. That it was my fault Amilia died, but it was you. And you didn't even tell me. You knew you hacked my game, and you just pretended it was nothing."

"How was I supposed to tell you if I never even see you anymore? Don't you think I would have tried again eventually?"

"Eventually," Owen scoffed. How polite. This was the cruelest prank ever, and it was still somehow his fault. He wanted to rage, but was far too taken back to do much more than sit. So far he covered the when and why, which left... "How did you end up doing it, anyways?"

She pressed her lips together before answering. "Drew modded it so I could play an existing NPC. I've spoofed other accounts for some low-level prizes before, but then you ended up with two NPCs and I thought that trick could be my in."

Owen was paying attention, though he no longer looked like it. On some level he was listening, on another level, he was thinking back. Drew was that programmer he met on their second date. Her friend, Abigail, had even mentioned a story. "Fuck," he breathed and closed his eyes. He was the story. It had all been right fucking there. When she stopped, he looked over at her again. "You're not a bone digger, you're an asshole."

"Amilia is this important? You break into my apartment after obsessing over her like—I can't even compare. Now you're just going to what? Break up with me?"

"Yes." Owen stood up as if accepting the challenge. He glanced over her face as he moved closer. The distance that was once so comfortable now filled every fiber with annoyance. "I don't trust you, and I frankly don't think I can stand the betrayal I feel looking at you. You've messed up enough, and I'm not going to stick around to see what else happens." He stepped around her, reaching the door handle before she caught his arm.

"Owen, stop. Please, I'm sorry."

He pulled his arm away like a stranger had grabbed him. "Don't touch me. What part of this are you not getting?"

When she didn't answer, he pulled the door open. Her hand caught it before he managed to go anywhere. In the moment before she could speak, something else clicked. "Is this why you wanted me to go to those meetings? Oh God, how early did you know it was me?"

"I thought if I could hear you mention them first, that I'd be able to bring it up."

Owen narrowed his eyes. He glanced back into the living room before looking at her with an unwavering expression. "The first time you invited me over was because you were—" He paused to bring his hands up to do air quotes. "'Worried about me.' That's when you figured it out, wasn't it?"

"You played in front of me. I promise, before then I had no idea."

"So yes. What am I supposed to say, Andreah? Thank you for not stabbing me in the back with a bigger knife? Thank you for knowingly invading my privacy and fooling me for two-thirds of our relationship?" Owen pressed his lips together to give an unforgiving little smile. "Oh." He reached into his pocket, and pulled her spare key out. "Let's not rely on dumb luck next time, hmm?"

Her face was red with frustration over his taunts. "I was going to tell you. I was scared of telling you upfront, and I tried looking for a way to make it easier, but I screwed up. What do you want me to do now? What should I say? You can throw everything in my face all night, but none of this is going to make you feel better. So do or say what you will already, for fucks sake."

"That's the best thing you've said all night." Owen wiggled the key on its cheap wire keychain until she held out her palm. "I think I will."

"I can't fix my mistakes, Owen. But you have to believe that I never did this to hurt you. It wasn't supposed to be you. And when it turned out to be, all I knew to do was kill the project. I didn't know Daniel's pain would become yours. But if you could just, for a moment, understand that—"

What exactly am I to understand?" Owen had already taken a few steps down the hall before turning. Andreah had stopped just outside her door. "Understand that you tried to take the easy way out, and now it's making you look bad?"

"I didn't want you to ever find out. We're different. You liked what you knew about me, what you saw. But I'm not some sort of manic pixie dream girl."

"When did I ever?" The half-formed question was a clear sign that Owen was thrown for a second. "All I ever wanted from you was to talk to me."

"We're too casual for that, Owen. I'm full of half-truths. You know what I want you to know. Like with everyone else. But that's my mistake, among many, because you're the wrong person to do that with." She didn't give him any time to question her. "Whether I told that to you today, or a month ago, it wouldn't change the fact I accidentally found my way into cyberstalking you. If you really are a bone digger, you know it isn't as clear-cut as it seems."

Owen sighed, feeling defeated on too many levels at once. "What do you want then, Andreah?"

"Can't you just, like..." she paused, swaying between him and the door. "Stay, and we can try to talk it out?"

He glanced around the hallway, feeling exposed like a raw nerve. Being one of those couples who fought in the hallway was another thing he never meant to do. But he couldn't deny that some part of him did want to stay. "Alright. I mean, it's a fair enough trade for you excusing the whole B & E thing."

The nervous lift of his tone made the joke clear and Andreah smiled as he walked back inside. "Technically, I didn't see anything broken."

Owen coughed out a laugh, shaking his head at himself, this...everything, maybe. "Well, I'm considerate like that."

She ducked into her kitchen. "Do you want coffee?" she asked. Owen followed her, because he felt like he should, and offered a small "Sure" in reply. She grabbed two mugs and made a quick pot before finally turning back to him. When she handed off the warm mug, she smiled softly while lingering close.

His gaze instantly fell to the cup of coffee that warmed his fingers so well he was afraid to take a sip. Any other time he would have been content being this close, but not today.

"Creamer?"

"Huh?" He looked up to see her standing with a bottle of creamer in her hand. "No, thank you."

She set it down, and made herself comfortable on the counter for a moment before taking a sip. "I don't know how you can drink it black always. I need a little flavor sometimes, y'know?"

"Andreah."

She blinked. "It's your coffee. I was just suggesting a little extra sweetness in your life."

"Andreah," he repeated louder this time. She paused, and he took an extra second to gather his words. "I knew you were a liar, but I didn't see it until now. You were right. About everything. We were too casual to withstand this much. And I can't do this. I need to go."

She watched silently as he put down his mug. Didn't even budge as he made way for the door. It was remarkable he had even tried to stay, so she wouldn't stop him this time. He wasn't sure he preferred this, either, as he headed down the hall and out the building. He wondered if he should have said goodbye, but it was too late now.