Chương 303: Book Six, Chapter 65: Parking Lot Lookout

"This is the most boring stakeout I have ever been a part of," Ramona said.

"Do you go on a lot of stakeouts?" I asked.

"Yes," she said.

"I spent years investigating deaths caused by the Die Cast, remember?"

"Okay, sure," I said. I forgot about that. A lot of that confusing Centennial-related lore had faded from memory, "But come on, don't you want to know why these people are buying all of these things? That guy's entire basket is filled with meat. Doesn't that pique your curiosity?" The man was wearing an undershirt and swimming trunks, both of which were covered in odd stains.

"He's having a barbeque," she said, peeking through the telescope we had brought from the loft once more, "and he needed a lot of pigs' blood too it would seem."

"The pigs' blood barbeque," I said.

"A Carousel tradition."

"You can't prove otherwise," she said. We were stationed outside of the Eternal Savers Club, just a bunch of players all sticking out like a sore thumb, watching what looked more and more like an ordinary bulk discount store running through its day-to-day business.

"Nothing much has changed," Antoine said.

"Not on the outside at least." We had actually come here two or three times back when we were rookies at Camp Dyer. We didn't get to run the story, of course, but when the vets were finished, they needed someone to help them haul groceries. Antoine had apparently gotten a pretty good look inside the store because, on one of those occasions, an entire wall had fallen, and he was able to peek inside, which was why he was now the largest expert in the group on what went on in there. That wasn't saying much.

"The Atlas says that if you leave someone alive, one of the employees, they can direct you to anything you ask for that might be in stock. Like anything you can think of," Camden said.

"The problem is, apparently, the employees get killed most often." Now we had to try to keep someone alive? That was going to be difficult.

"I just wish we could go in there and shop," Kimberly said.

"Why can't we? This place and the mall. You would think they would have, like, a Safe Saturday or something like that, where you could just purchase things, you know, with money. No strings attached."

"Yeah, but think of the crowds," I said.

"Safe Saturday would be packed." The surroundings of the building were pretty safe. Like many big box stores of its type, Eternal Savers Club was off the highway coming up from southeastern Carousel and not especially close to any neighborhoods. In fact, the nearest landmark I could see was the Astralist's castle mountain in the distance, though that wasn't to say it was deserted. The parking lot was full of cars, and the store was full of people.

Logan, Michael, and Lila had broken off from us to go investigate the perimeter, but they now rejoined us.

"There's some sort of memorial near those trees over there," Logan said, all serious.

"Lila says it's not an Omen, so it might be related to the lore of the storyline. There's no telling at this point." Having not accomplished much else, the rest of us decided to follow Logan back toward the memorial. It was a simple sign that stated: In memory of Lance Carmichael, loving brother and son. Gone but not forsaken. Asleep under watchful eyes. November 5, 1942 – January 10, 1985.

"I assume he died here at the store," Antoine said after reading the plaque.

"He should have shopped on Safe Saturday," I said.

"This could have all been avoided." Some of the others laughed. Others found it difficult to relax out in the open. Not everyone had a scouting trope to watch out for Omens.

"Is there anything in the Atlas about this?" Antoine asked Camden.

"Nothing specifically," Camden responded.

"I think one of the reasons that the Atlas doesn't have a lot of specific information is because of how flexible this storyline is. There's no telling what lore might be true and what might not be. It's all general stuff: how long it lasts, how difficult it is, stuff like that" I stared at the plaque. There was an etching of a hooded figure to the left of the inscription. The pose reminded me of something you might see on a gravestone.

At first, I thought it might be the Hooded God, but this was different, rougher, less angelic-looking. He appeared more brooding than the Hooded God was usually portrayed. His wore an odd robe that reminded me of something between a shepherd's robe from the bible and a bathrobe. It was probably closer to the former. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. But what did I know?

"So, what do we think?" Logan asked.

"Anybody spot something that brings you hesitation?" It was Carousel, so everything generally brought us hesitation, but nothing specifically.

"You know, if we tracked what these people were buying, it would probably give a lot of clues about storylines that took place near their homes. Look at how much salt that woman is buying," Camden said.

"Maybe she has well water," Logan suggested.

"Or a slug problem in the garden."

"Or ghosts," I said, "depending on how their lore works. That's not a bad idea." It was clear that some of these NPCs were buying very specific things. Most were getting food, sure, but others were buying very peculiar items, like hundreds of feet of rope or a shopping cart full of rat traps. I didn't exactly want to follow them back to their homes to see where the clues might lead, but Camden was right. It was clearly Carousel's intent to put clues inside people's shopping carts.

But we weren't here for all the random storylines that these NPCs belonged to. We were here for the store itself.

"Just a second," Kimberly said.

"Is that an Omen?" I followed her gaze to a nearby bush until I figured out what she was looking at. A piece of paper had blown into the limbs of the plant and gotten stuck.

"No, it's not an Omen," I said. I went and grabbed it and read through it very quickly, "Though it would seem that the circus is in town." It was a simple ad. I didn't think much of it.

"There was something about that in the newspaper," Camden said. I expected people to continue talking about it, or maybe even suggest that we go there, but no one did. A circus in Carousel sounded terrifying.

"So, what we need to discuss next," I said, "is what rescue trope we're going to use." When we had gotten there, we had all stood up and swapped out our tropes just to double-check that the Omen for the storyline, which was simply the greeter at the entrance, who had an awkward manner and a smile far too large, didn't hold any surprises whenever we had our rescues equipped. There was nothing notable. Everything lined up with the research we had already done.

"Well, I think we should use Bobby's," I went ahead and suggested.

"Even though there are some unknowns in his trope, the idea of just getting an entire script for the failed storyline is unbeatable. The amount of information that would contain, I feel, would put us on the best possible footing to win." We discussed the issue. There were several viable candidates, but as soon as I gave my opinion, people kind of fell into line. Maybe they respected me, or maybe they just wanted me to have the blame if everything went wrong. I was past thinking about that.

"What do you think, Bobby?" I asked. I looked around and realized that Bobby was nowhere nearby. A few more quick scans, and I saw that he was walking his dog, Shasta, on the other side of the parking lot. He was standing there, staring into the distance.

"Whose turn was it to watch Bobby?" I said, only partially joking. He had been quieter than usual the past few days. His head was elsewhere. We managed to wave to him and call him over. He rushed over, running with his dog and dodging one of the few Omens in the parking lot, which was weird because, as far as I knew, he shouldn't be able to see the Omens. And it wasn't an obvious one either; it was something to do with the kidnapping serial killer.

If you knocked into a rogue shopping cart, it would roll down an incline into a car trunk, which contained a kidnapping victim who would start screaming as the trunk popped open and the story began. Despite that, Bobby had walked around it, giving it a wide berth. I would almost say that Shasta had pulled him away from it. That was interesting. When he got near enough for us to speak to him, I asked, "What do you say, Bobby? You ready to lead a rescue?" He held out his arms and said, "What else am I here for?"

He was wearing a thick coat that he had bought. It was technically summer, but you couldn't really trust that when you were walking around Carousel. It was liable to be fall or even winter, technically, if you went to the right places, and you would experience a range of weather if you walked any real distance.

"Well, that's that," Logan said.

"All I know is that this time the B Team needs to run a storyline while we're gone and hopefully find a writ of habitation, because after we rescue these five players, the loft is going to get ridiculously crowded." We had been spoiled living at the lodge near the lake. Even with dozens of people there, it was so big and spacious that it never felt packed. The loft was a completely different story. It felt crowded even before we started doing rescues.

Not that I could complain, I had had my own room with a view and a hide-a-bed.

"I don't know why you care," Ramona said, speaking to Logan.

"From what I understand, you don't mind bunking with other players." Logan smiled playfully, acknowledging her joke. He had maintained a sort of situationship with Avery since long before we met him. In fact, I thought she was his girlfriend at first, a much younger girlfriend. Relationships in Carousel still managed to baffle me. My short marriage hadn't helped in that department.

Antoine started explaining to the other players how they needed to show up exactly two days after we started Eternal Savers Club storyline to help haul groceries. That kind of made Logan's point moot about getting a writ of habitation, at least, that's what I thought until it dawned on me that we actually did have enough players to send out two teams and then have some left over to help carry groceries. We really were overcrowded.

While Antoine was explaining things, I went over toward Logan and said, "Maybe we should get the players we rescue to carry the groceries."

"Well, they were planning on it when they went to that storyline," he said. Then he took a deep breath.

"I am not looking forward to explaining everything that has happened. I'm not sure how well they're going to take it."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Shouldn't they just be happy to be alive?"

"Sure, they will be at first," he said, looking me in the eye.

"But being alive back in Carousel is a little bit more traumatic than you realize." I nodded.

"Well, hopefully, we'll have a speech prepared or something," I said.

"A speech, yeah," Logan said.

"Maybe a contingency plan if they aren't so cooperative."

"What makes you think they won't be?" I asked.

"Just a gut feeling," he said.

"I remember when I came to inside of that cage, I had a lot of thoughts that I'm glad I didn't dwell on. You get to Carousel for the first time, and all you can think about is surviving and escaping. But there is a third option, and everyone we rescue will have had a taste of it."

"Ah," I said.

"You think maybe they might wish they could stay dead until the end?" He looked at me curiously.

"A lot of the players that have been here for years aren't too worried about getting to the end. They're surviving by habit, and I'm not looking forward to what happens to a person like that when they find out that the other way isn't so bad." I was glad Logan was here to think about those things because I didn't want to. I wanted to assume that every person we rescue would be grateful and would be ready to contribute to the efforts to beat the game at Carousel. Was I being naïve? Only time would tell.