He has to be in one of the top tier teams, though. Who else has gear and skills like that? I guess he could also be one of the international teams that I don’t follow.
“What happened to the divs?” he asked in a sandpapery voice.
I quickly explained everything, starting with how I saw him fall from the sky.
“And then I found this motel and got us a room,” I wrapped up. “Now tell us how you’re still alive.”
“I have a talent for healing,” he said, “and the new tactical suits are virtually indestructible.”
He swung his legs off the bed and sat with his elbows on his thighs and his hands dangling between his knees.
“Talk about being blessed when it came to a side skill,” Chance chimed in. He rubbed his eyes and looked groggy, but kept talking. “A warrior with healing is the perfect person to be on a high-stakes team. You can be injured, then heal yourself and jump back into the fight.”
“Over and over. Only this time, I owe my survival toyourteam. There were too many divs. They would have eatenme before I could have healed myself enough to fight them. Thanks for the assist.”
He stood up and held out his hand for Chance to shake.
“I’m Ray.”
#
Chance
The nephilim world doesn’t have sports. What we do have is the Scoreboard, and Spin is an avid follower.
The Scoreboard keeps track of sanctioned teams operating in the Real World. As there are thousands of teams in the field at any one time, it’s a massive amount of data, so the focus is primarily on the top one hundred, or Hundred. Of course, those slots are dominated by older teams with centuries of experience. I’m not sure how muchtheycare about it, but following their stats is like Fantasy Football for us junior-leaguers.
When the Scoreboard is updated on Sunday afternoons, you can hear groans and shouts echoing throughout our dorm as everyone either collects their winnings or pays their debts, and Spin is always right in the thick of it. He knows every stat of every member of every team in the U.S. Hundred and usually makes a grand or two each week.
Ray shook hands with everyone except Chessie. Even Monkey had come out of her comfort zone to greet him, but Chessie stayed hidden behind me.
Meanwhile, Spin’s eyes unfocused as he went through his mental filing cabinet trying to figure out who this guy was.
“There are only three Rays in the Hundred,” he said at last. “Hester goes by Raymond, and Devereaux is a woman who shortened Raquel to Ray. So you have to be Ray Chapman!”
Spin bounced up and down on his toes for a second, then broke out in a little dance. Chessie pulled on the hem of my shirt and looked at her to see her eyebrows raised in question.
“He gets excited,” I murmured to her, then turned back to Spin. “Dude, he could be an international.”
“He has an American accent,” Spin argued before ignoring me to talk to Ray. “It’s an honor to meet someone who served with Hank Bishop. You took over his team how long ago now? Three and a half, four years ago?”
“Ah. No wonder he’s manic.” I smiled down at Chessie. “Hank Bishop is his hero.”
“You were 84th last week, but taking out a flight of divs will level you up a few slots,” Spin rambled on before Ray could get a word in. “Your team might even break into the 70s for the first time ever.”
“Right now, I’m more worried about where the rest of my teamis.” Ray threw his hands up. “I don’t even know whereIam.”
“New York,” I told him.
“I’m back in the States?”
“Did the divs take out your helicopter or something?”
“No, we teleported and bounced off something. A ward, maybe. We ricocheted in every direction.”
“Where were you going?” I wanted to know.
“Madagascar. Guess it doesn’t hurt anything to tell you the divs besieged the Sanctuary there.” Ray shook his head. “I cannot understand their attack here today, or why it so conveniently coincides with the trouble off Africa.”
