Larry pushed open the door to his van and practically fell outside. The others followed. "Larry, you all right?" asked D.J.

"Uh, yeah," he answered. Larry's body was saturated with adrenaline to the point that he was shaking uncontrollably. "I've gotta check the van out," he said simply, reaching in under the dashboard and popping the hood.

"Now?" asked D.J.

"Yeah, now," said Larry, walking away from them.

"Jesus, that was intense," said Turk.

"What about me?" demanded Burt. "I had to watch the whole thing backwards."

"Just like Ginger Rogers," said Turk, smiling.

"Fuck you."

D.J. cut off the insult fight. "Burt, what did the guy look like? Did you get a good look at him?"

"Yeah, sort of." Burt furrowed his brow, concentrating fiercely. "He had short, kinky or curly hair, but not like all over curly, more like cowlicks." He exhaled, exhausted. "Do you know what I mean?"

"I think so."

"Um, big nose, glasses, pale skin, I guess. He seemed tall."

"Seemed tall?"

"Yeah, he was hunched over, like he couldn't fit in the car."

D.J. scratched his neck. "So, it could be a stolen car. Or a rental."

"Or," said Burt, "he's just got really bad posture."

Larry came around the back of the van, visibly more composed. "She needs to rest, but she did great," he pronounced.

"She?" Turk raised his eyebrows. "I didn't know your van had a gender."

"Well, she does," Larry said, quietly aware that he was giving his friends material for future torture.

"And does she have a name, your van?" asked D.J.

"Yes she does, and no, I'm not telling you," said Larry.

Everyone smirked at one another as they imagined Larry's van's name. Larry saw what they were doing and said, "Okay, listen up. We really need to rest. I still have to go to the bathroom..."

"Don't we all, now," muttered Turk.

"...and we could use some quiet time to think. I say, we leave the van here, out of sight, and hide here on campus for a while."

"Sounds good," said D.J. "But where are we?"

"Hold up," said Turk. He pulled out a crumpled brochure for Arizona State University and opened it up. Inside was a full map of the campus. He studied it intently, noting the street they'd pulled in on and the surrounding buildings. "Well," he finally said, "There's a student recreation center about a block that way. This building," he pointed to the one right next to the agricultural building, "is student services."

Larry nodded. "Okay, first thing, let's get out of these outfits and put on regular clothes. After that, we'll take food and supplies and lay low at the rec center. Sound like a plan?"

They all nodded and silently gathered up their things from the van.

The Student Recreation Center was the equivalent of a campus common, with couches and televisions at one end, and quieter study areas at the other. In the middle were places to check out intramural equipment, buy food and drink, and go to the bathroom. The place was full of people, many of whom were in the area for a softball tournament. No one gave the four guys a glance as they slunk in the doors with backpacks, and duffel bags.

The usual weekday security was relaxed on the weekend, so there was no one to check their student ID. If they wanted to check out a volleyball net, they would have to prove they went to school at ASU. Otherwise, they could use the facilities without interruption.

They quickly decided it would be better to talk in the study lounge, which was mostly empty, save for a few couples in the corners of the room. Everyone flopped down in the comfortable couches, except for Burt, who couldn't hook up his laptop fast enough. He gave a whoop of excitement when he saw that the study center had wireless Internet, and quickly set up everything so he could check his e-mail. "Thank god for technical schools," he said as he worked.

Larry waited until they were encamped at one of the partitioned tables before going to the bathroom. He carefully checked to make sure he was alone, then went into the last stall from the door and pulled it shut. Stercutus, he thought to himself as he pulled his pants down, you and me need to have a nice, long talk.

When Larry came back from the bathroom, he was smiling triumphantly. "I've got a new plan," he announced.

The guys were gathered around Burt's open laptop. He saw their faces. "What's wrong?"

"Good," said Burt. "I know how come we're being followed." D.J. and Turk were shaking their heads in exasperation.

"What? How?" asked Larry.

"Come here, my son, and all shall be explained," said Burt. The guys moved away to give Larry a view of the screen. "This is my hotmail account, where you sent your Last-Minute Checklist e-mail."

"Yeah..." said Larry.

"See, there's the original. And see all of those above it? Those are the replies from bewildered gamers all over the country who received the message and wanted to know if this was for a game or what."

"How...?" said Larry, dumbstruck.

Burt tried to be gentle. "Lar, you sent the e-mail to the wrong list."

"How...?" he said again.

"Look," said Burt. He opened one of the e-mails. At the top of the list, in the "To" box, was a long list of names. The message was:

"Carl lives in Cleveland!" sputtered Larry.

"Like I said, you sent it to the wrong list."

"Okay, okay, so, then, whoever was following us is someone on this list. Can you print that e-mail out?"

"Yeah, one sec."

Larry frantically grabbed the paper out of Burt's portable printer the instant it stopped printing and waved the ink dry. That done, he sat down on one of the cushy couches that lined the dim study hall.

"Meanwhile," said Turk, "I say that since the plan is null and void, we go ahead and split."

D.J. made a face. "I'd agree with you, but Larry said he had a new plan."

"Yeah," said Turk. "And what a beaut the original plan was. What do you think the back-up plan will be?" Turk rearranged his face into a reasonable imitation of Larry when he was thinking. "Okay," he said, in a near-perfect imitation of Larry's voice, "we need a water buffalo, four pairs of roller skates, a super soaker, and thirty-five miles of chicken wire. Oh, and some wax lips. I'm getting hungry."

D.J. laughed until his sides ached. "God, I needed that," he said, wiping his eyes. "Okay, you're right, we're in deep shit if we stay here."

Turk grinned. "Okay, that's two for going home."

They both turned to look at Burt, who was scrolling through his e-mail. "What?" he said, when he saw them looking at him.

"What do you want to do?"

Burt looked at both of them in turn, trying to figure out what the consensus was. Nothing was forthcoming, so he simply answered, "I want to hear Larry's plan. We came this far, and it'd be a shame to go back without even trying." Turk hung his head. D.J. looked away. "Sorry guys, if that's not what you wanted to hear."

Turk looked up. "Yeah, well, the problem is, we're tied. If it was a majority, then we could force the issue."

"I saw vending machines," said D.J. "Anyone want a Coke?"

"Yeah," said Burt.

"Ooh, yeah," said Turk.

"I'll be right back." D.J. threw Turk a meaningful look and walked away in search of beverages and snacks.

D.J. returned with three Cokes, a Mountain Dew, and an assortment of Clark bars, Zagnuts, and Peter Paul bars. When he got to the table, it was his turn to say, "What?"

"I know who's after me," said Larry.

"Who?"

"Jerry Markham," he said.

"That name is familiar," said D.J.

Larry briefly outlined his relationship with Jerry for the group.

"So, then, Jerry is cruising for us," said D.J. "And he's got a serious grudge."

"Yep," said Larry. "But, see, here's the deal. That guy following us wasn't Jerry. It's not his car, and according to Burt's description, it wasn't him."

"So, he's got help, then." D.J. got up to pace. "This isn't looking good."

"Everyone think," said Larry. "Did any of you see the car at the Gamesmen warehouse, or did you see it at the rental place?"

Everyone got quiet. Burt said, "I'm pretty sure I saw him swing out of the Jack in the Box parking lot when we left the rental place.

"Pretty sure?" asked Larry.

"Mostly sure."

"Okay, then," said Larry, nodding. "Then they don't know what we're up to."

"Oh, come on, how can you be sure?" said D.J.

"Because they staked out the backhoe rental places. It was a detail in the e-mail."

"So was the Phallus of Ebon Keep," Turk pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," said Larry. "But, I don't think Jerry'll put that together. He's not old school, like me."

"Word up, G," said Turk. "If he's working with people, then they can have the whole town wired."

"Hey, I gave 'em the slip once, I can do it again," said Larry. "If they don't know what we're doing, we have the element of surprise. We have the advantage."

"That's a big if," said D.J. "You sure you want to chance it?"

Larry grinned. "Let me show you my new plan, and maybe you'll see where I'm going with this." He turned Burt's laptop around. A Google map was displayed, showing an aerial view of the Gamesman warehouses, taken from space. They all gathered around Larry, hiding the laptop from view. Larry spoke in a low voice for a long time.