Much to Spencer's chagrin, the election talk continued at school. It was all anyone seemed to care about, all except his friends, who were more obsessed with masturbation.
“Hey Spence, did you yank it last night?” asked Kyley-B.
“No,” Spencer said defensively.
“Then how come you weren't online after school?”
“Yeah, you're never online anymore,” accused Jackson.
“That's because he doesn't like gaming with us,” said Royce. “He only goes on late at night so he can avoid us.”
Spencer knew Royce must have checked his log-in times.
“Why the hell do you get up so early to play?” Royce asked.
“I don't know. It's just more fun. My parents aren't nagging me and I can focus.”
“Dude, at three in the morning I'd rather focus on sleeping,” said Jackson.
“You mean you're focused on yanking it,” laughed Kyley-B.
“Shut up!”
This was why Spencer hated gaming with his friends — they never took anything seriously.
For the next few months, Spencer's life followed the same routine. Occasionally, he would try gaming with his friends, but compared to Deathdirge, they were horrible. But then Deathdirge stopped playing; disappeared completely.
One evening in March, Spencer was taunting his victims in the post-game lobby.
“Gawdammed kids! You think you're such hot shit! Wait'll you see real combat! You'll shit your pants the first time someone shoots at you!”
“If you could shoot half as good as me, then maybe you'd win a few battles,” Spencer taunted.
“You don't know how lucky you are that I'm here protecting the reserves that let you play your little fucking game.”
“When I'm old enough I'll come over there and show you how to kick ass.”
The voice laughed. “You wouldn't last five minutes in the military.”
“That's five minutes longer than you lasted in the game, dumb—”
Spencer jumped as his door opened. It was his dad.
Spencer thumbed ‘mute’ and asked, “What is it, Dad?”
“Still playing the game?”
Spencer nodded.
“Doesn't it ever get boring?”
Spencer shook his head no and wrinkled his eyebrows at the ridiculousness of the question. As if the game could ever get boring.
“I want you to come downstairs. Your mom and I thought it might be nice to have a real family dinner tonight.”
Nice and gay, Spencer thought.
“You can finish this game, but then I want you to wash up and join us.”
“Okay.”
Since a new game was about to begin, he simply jumped out of the lobby and powered down. He followed his dad downstairs and was surprised to see his Aunt Lynne sitting in the living room.
“There's my little man,” she said.
Spencer cringed. She'd been calling him her ‘little man’ since he was seven. He hated it, but he forced a smile and gave her a hug. When he pulled back, he noticed she'd been crying.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. Immediately, tears resumed streaming from her eyes. Spencer turned and looked at his parents who in turn looked at Lynne. She nodded and stammered, “It's okay. You can tell him.”
“Your Uncle Paul was drafted today. He left for military service in the Philippines. We didn't want your aunt to be alone tonight, so we invited her over.”
She gave Spencer another big hug; her tears warm against his neck.
Dinner was quiet and awkward. Toby kept asking questions that prompted their mom to say, “Not now!” or “Stop talking and finish chewing”, whether he was chewing or not. When the meal was over, Spencer's mom asked him to help her clean up the dishes. Together, they carried them into the kitchen. She started the dishwasher and made sure they were alone.
Then, despite being taller than her, she leaned over and placed her hand on Spencer's shoulder.
“Spencer, honey, we need to talk.”
This sounded serious. For a moment, Spencer worried it might have something to do with his late night adventures.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I don't know how much your teachers may have talked about this at school, but I think you should know there's a chance your father might be recruited into the military.”
“Dad? Why would they want Dad? He's ancient.”
“Spencer!”
“Sorry.”
“There are some new, very strict laws. Anyone under the age of 40 is eligible and your dad is only 39. With his skills, there's a good chance he'll be recruited. Fortunately, he'll most likely be far from the front lines, but he'll have to go very far away.”
“I hope they don't send him to South America. He'd be better off in the Middle East where it isn't so bad,” offered Spencer.
“I don't want them to send him anywhere. But it's something we should prepare for.”
Spencer nodded though he didn't really know what she meant. When dinner was over, Spencer returned to the game while his parents consoled his aunt.
When he logged on, he was delighted to see a message from Deathdirge.
“Hey, man, how ya been? Sorry I ain't been on in ages, but I started a new job. They've got me working like crazy. I'm almost never home. But I should get like a week or two off next month. I'll see you then, mate. Cheers!”
The message only lasted a few seconds, but it was great to hear his friend's voice. He played it again before jumping into the game.
The next morning, his dad drove Spencer to school. “It could be any day now, Spence. The war's getting worse. They're recruiting anyone. One day you might come home and… I might not be there. If that happens, you'll be the man of the house, Spence. You'll need to take care of your mother and especially your brother. You'll need to stop playing those games and focus on your responsibilities. You hear me, Spence?”
Spencer couldn't imagine anyone wanting to draft his father. He nodded, went to school and forgot all about it.
It was late at night and Spencer couldn't sleep. He climbed out of bed and powered up the GS. He hoped a game or two would help clear his head. He guessed Deathdirge wouldn't be on, but he hoped he was wrong. He checked the player log. It had been 38 days since Deathdirge had last logged in.
He scrolled through his options and decided on a simple game of Team Annihilation. Normally, the game servers tried to place a player into a game that was just beginning, but occasionally players were thrown right into the middle of everything. It could be chaotic, confusing, and disorienting. Spencer spawned into the thick of it. The game was half over and, to make matters seemingly worse, he spawned on the enemy's side. Spencer was surrounded.
“Shit.”
His first life would be short, but he could wreak some havoc before they killed him. He dropped the nearest three with his knife before any of them realized he had spawned in their midst. Because the enemy wasn't expecting him in their lines, they reacted slowly. He watched as his fourth target, receiving word from his dead comrades, looked around confused. He was turning in Spencer's direction when Spencer shot him dead.
The shot gave away his position, so he threw a grenade in one direction and jumped in the other. The grenade took out two more adversaries. Now the kill streaks were kicking in, giving him advantages. Already he had extra ammo (when he'd only fired a single shot) and extra speed. The latter saved him from a knife attack. Spencer fired before the enemy could swing a second time. He had seven kills and miraculously, the other opponents, thinking they'd been flanked by half their foes, were fleeing.
Spencer aimed and dropped three more opponents. His ongoing kill streaks rewarded him with larger clips, an extra grenade, and a faster reload speed. More amazingly, he had cleared out the enemy team. They would respawn elsewhere on the map and he had survived what should have been certain death.