Oliver took a break from his tea to continue fixing a new handle onto his scythe.

  “What’s that?” Laura asked Agnes, who was taking stock of some of the other things they’d looted from the storage shed.

  “Insecticide,” Agnes said, showing Laura the tube and spraying apparatus attached to a large canister. “Might be good against those spiders.”

  Laura hefted the can. There was a reassuringly heavy slosh of liquid inside.

  Item: Insecticide Sprayer

  Type: Level 3 Weapon - Long range

  Requires a minimum of 4 Dexterity and 3 Intelligence. Deals extra 25% damage against bug-type mobs.

  Laura had lost her kitchen torch when it had exploded in the pumpkin patch, but she still had the candy mallet in her inventory, the shotgun, and the sickle that she’d finally pried free of the vine it had been lodged in before they left the patch. The candy mallet wasn’t currently any good to her since she was one point short in strength to be able to wield it, but Laura kept it, knowing she needed any bit of help she might be able to get.

  Graham sat at an adjacent table, sorting through boxes of shells.

  Caroline was still sleeping even though the grandfather clock in the hall showed that it was nearly 10 o’ clock. Draining her health so far that many times in succession couldn’t be good for her.

  Oliver stood up and gave the scythe an experimental swing. It shaved off a fine edge of the lace curtains.

  “Better hide that bit of curtain or the front desk lady will lose her lid,” Brett said. He was sitting at a table on the far side of the room with his feet kicked up, eating.

  “Isn’t it ‘blow her top’?” Graham said, as he topped up the magazine on his shotgun.

  “I’m going to go out and get some more practice with this thing,” Oliver said, ignoring both of them. “I recommend you do the same, Brett. How are you still a Level 6?”

  Brett flipped him off and continued eating.

  Oliver shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Several minutes after Oliver left, Caroline shuffled into the sitting room and collapsed into a chair by the window. She tilted her head back and basked in the sunshine. Then she stretched. “Wow, sleep really only gets you so far, huh. How am I still this tired?”

  “Wait until you’re over 50,” Agnes said, coiling the tube around the insecticide can.

  Graham snorted.

  “Oh come on,” Caroline said looking at Graham. “50’s isn’t that old.” She said it with the unconcerned confidence of someone who didn’t have to think about turning 50 for a long, long time.

  Graham leveled a look at her. “I have kids who are your age.”

  “You have kids?” Laura said.

  She suddenly could have been looking down the years at Danny. She had so many questions for someone on the other end of parenting.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Graham looked back down at his shotgun. “Yes, two.”

  It didn’t surprise her. He had the steady calm of someone who had lived through the chaos of parenting. His glasses and graying hair had indicated his age, and his outfit—which included a nice button-down shirt—had pointed to an upper-middle-class profession. (He was a hedge fund manager as it had turned out.) But Laura realized now he’d been tight-lipped about any mention of family.

  “Were they here?” Laura asked.

  “No. Well…”. He trailed off with a little discomfort. Caroline’s face hardened. And Laura remembered with a jolt. Of course. He did have someone in here now, didn’t he. They all did. Guilt seared through her, but she shook it off after a moment. It wouldn’t help him for her to wallow in it.

  “One of your children?” Dread filled the pit of her stomach.

  Graham shook his head and the dread eased slightly. “My wife,” he said. “Celia.”

  “It’s my husband, Danny, for me,” Laura said. “He’s so excited to be a dad.”

  Caroline’s face softened a little.

  Brett tossed down his bun. “I can’t stand eating this for like a fourth time in a row. I’m going over to Charlie’s.”

  Laura had close to 15 tickets sitting in her inventory and needed some fresh air. “I’ll join you.”

  “I imagine I could do with some more refresher sodas,” Agnes said, standing up.

  Caroline grabbed a pick-me-up bar and sunk back into her chair.

  Laura hung back for a moment after Agnes and Brett headed out into the hall. She cleared her throat. “Can I get either of you anything?” It seemed a thin offer at best, but it was the most she could do at the moment. Graham shook his head. Caroline looked out the window. Her expression was scrunched at the sunlight streaming in the window. Laura wasn’t sure if it was from the bright light or if Caroline was trying not to cry. Caroline shook her head.

  The air was increasingly crisp with each new day, but today at least had a clear bright blue sky, and the sun helped take the edge off the cold.

  Laura joined Agnes and Brett at Charlie’s stand. The skeleton behind the counter was in the middle of haggling with Agnes. “You guys go through this stuff like it’s water.” He gestured to several bottles of refresher soda sitting on the counter.

  “You got anything better?” Agnes asked.

  Charlie grinned, like he always did. “As a matter of fact, I do.” He pulled out a tray of large, gooey brownies. “Special brownies. 5 tickets each, but only takes a quarter of one to restore 50 HP.” One entire refresher soda only restored half of that.

  Brett laughed. “Special brownies? Seriously?”

  Charlie ignored him. He pointed a bony finger at Laura. “And for you, little lady, I’ve got something in particular.” He pointed to a new entry on the menu board.

  Anti-nausea caramels!

  2 tickets. Anti-nausea buff lasts for 24 hours. Tastes like sea salt caramel.

  The last line was quite a selling point. Laura had been drinking as much ginger tea as she could stand to tamp down the morning sickness, and she was about ready to get nauseated just from the smell of ginger alone.

  She only bought two, because she wasn’t sure how much longer her morning sickness would last. Besides the nausea was only really potentially dangerous when they were in the middle of an intense fight. Otherwise she could just put up with it.

  Agnes was doing some quick back of the napkin math on the bulk discount they’d finagled out of Charlie before for the refresher sodas vs the cost of the brownies.

  “There’s another factor,” Laura said, peering over Agnes’ shoulder. “Speed. We can eat a square of brownie a lot faster than we can drink a whole bottle of soda.”

  “True. But the last thing I want is to run out. Plus most of our HP tops out around 40 points. It feels like kind of a waste if we’re using a quarter of the brownie to regain more HP than we actually have.” Agnes eventually bought two brownies and 6 sodas, and convinced Charlie to throw in an extra caramel for Laura.

  Agnes tossed the caramel to Laura and she put it in her pocket. Next to it her hand wrapped around the ginger chew that Agnes had given to her what felt like a lifetime ago back in the hotel. She felt suddenly and absurdly grateful for Agnes’ unflappable and caring presence. She held onto the ginger chew for a moment longer like a lifeline.

  After her initial purchase Laura still had 10 tickets left. She scrutinized the menu for anything else that could help. Down towards the bottom was a section with food that provided temporary stat boosts that lasted for one hour. “+2 strength” was one, “+2 intelligence” was another. Each were 5 tickets.

  Brett contemplated the board. “I’ll take two brownies,” he said. “And a chicken parm sandwich.”

  While Charlie put together his order, Brett glanced over at Laura. He nodded at the special foods section she was studying. “You need a little food backup too huh?” He pulled up her info. “Oof yeah, your stats are fucked.”

  You’re one to talk.

  Charlie slid the sandwich wrapped in foil across to Brett. The savory smell of cheese and tomato sauce made Laura’s mouth water. She’d never wanted anything so suddenly or so badly in her whole life.

  Over across the square the pumpkin house sat, deceptively quiet. If the countdown clock had been visible from where they were standing, it would have said that the doors would be opening again in a matter of hours, at sunset.

  Laura turned back to look at Charlie, who waited patient and completely motionless behind the counter.

  “I’ll take one strength booster and one intelligence booster,” she said finally. Her ticket counter zeroed out as Charlie handed over the items.

  “Good luck,” Charlie said with an ominous tinge to his voice. His fingers tapped the counter in a hollow rhythm.

  Time ticked away and the pumpkin house’s clock counted down towards when the door would open again. The group, minus Oliver, spent the rest of the day relaxing and recuperating, and prepping any weapons.

  With about 20 minutes left to go, Oliver came back into the sitting room covered in blood but looking almost chipper as he swung the scythe through the air with a whistling sound. He tossed a bag of salt water taffy to Caroline.

  “You all ready?”