The trek back to Dyer’s Lodge presented a new challenge. We didn't have Todd to guide us this time, but we had the next best thing: a cocktail napkin with scribbles on it.

Before we left for Halle Castle, Todd had opened up a gigantic binder filled with information players had gathered over the years. Adeline, our leader, called it the Carousel Atlas. Everyone else called it the Survivor's Bible. Todd had thumbed through it and scribbled down some instructions on the napkin that could guide us back.

The instructions were extremely helpful. They included such gems as "Don't talk to the lady with the dog," "Don't take the mirror," "Don't help the guy change his tire," and, my favorite, "Avoid the fog on Calumet Ave." Each of these, I assume, was designed to prevent us from unwittingly entering into a difficult storyline.

As we walked back, we found the lady walking a very excited Great Pyrenees who kept pulling on its leash and lunging at passerby. "He never does this, I swear," the woman would say to everyone he lunged at.

As instructed, we ignored her, much to the pup’s dismay.

On Pyre Street, a disheveled young woman left her Victorian-style house crying, bleeding from her wrists and nose. She didn't stay outside long but was out just long enough to hurl a large, silver mirror into an open trashcan near the street. It landed just perfectly to be in view of those on the sidewalk.

"That's a really pretty mirror," Kimberly said softly as we passed, entranced by the jewels affixed to its frame. She stopped to admire it, reaching a finger out to touch it.

Anna took her by the shoulders. "Let's get out of here, girl. We have mirrors at the Lodge."

As we walked off, Kimberly shook her head. "What just happened?"

Unfortunately, we didn't see a guy who needed help with his tire, but by the time we got to Lake Line Road, where the omen was supposed to show, we weren't really seeing anyone at all. The route did pass Calumet Ave, but it was so far away I didn't get to see the fog. How disappointing.

By the time we saw another building or person after that, we had made it to the lake, to Camp Dyer. As we arrived at the sign for the camp, we saw a large moving truck backed up to the entrance as far as it could go. We had to squeeze past it just to get through the fence.

"This is new," Camden said.

The moving truck was one of those you can rent from a national chain, except it was a fictional, Carousel version called "GET OUT OF TOWN MOVERS." The driver was gone, and there was nothing in the back.

"Maybe there are some new players?" Antoine offered.

That didn't make sense. It was usually years between new arrivals, according to Antoine's brother Chris.

"They must have had a lot of luggage," I said.

As we circled the truck to get by, Anna said, "Look at the back."

I followed her eyes to the pull-down door on the back; it had a bloody handprint on it. This couldn’t be good. For a moment, we all looked at each other, unsure of what to do. The plot cycle didn’t show us that an omen was nearby. What else could it have been if not that?

“Let’s go,” Anna said.

As we set out on the path, everything appeared normal. The birds were chirping, and the creepy happy campers were flitting about.

“Will you help me find Cindy?” a little girl asked me as we walked the trail to Dyer’s Lodge. “I think she went over by the abandoned cabin.”

The camper pointed over to the dark and boarded-up cabin far away from all of the others around the bend of the lake. “Girls Cabin 14” was off-limits. Not just for campers, but for players too. Whatever storyline existed at Camp Dyer, that cabin was involved.

“Go away,” I said. The little girl ran off teary-eyed, as my friends laughed behind me.

“Why is it always me they talk to?” I asked.

“Aww,” Kimberly said, “You’re their favorite camp counselor.”

Finally, we made it back to Dyer’s Lodge.

As we arrived, we figured out what the moving truck had been for. Four men carried a large pool table up the stairs to the lodge’s entrance. Both doors had been propped open to get the table in.

One of the men was Bobby, the married guy who had arrived in Carousel at the same time we had. He was looking pale and had blood on his face.

Lots of players had gathered around to watch the men deliver the table. Most had bemused smiles on their faces. Many sported the red plastic cups that you might see at any gathering of free adults. In Carousel, alcohol was in great supply, after all.

A few players clapped as they left their room to see what the commotion was about and saw the pool table.

Someone in the crowd, I don’t know who, asked, “Is that from Solomon’s Tavern?”

One of the guys carrying the table, a man with slicked hair and a huge white smile, said, “Sure is. The bad news is we only have three good pool cues. We had to use the others to kill the vamps.”

This elicited some chuckles.

I didn’t know this guy. I had seen him around but never attempted to look at his poster on the red wallpaper. As he laughed and joked and tried to maneuver the table through the door, I realized that I couldn’t see his poster at all. No poster, name, stats, nothing.

I hadn’t seen anyone like this.

“Can you guys see that guy’s name?” I asked my friends.

They all looked but had no success.

“Travis Haley!” a voice rang out from within the Lodge. It was Adeline. She marched through the still-open doors and stopped in front of the men carrying the table. “What the hell are you doing with that?”

The four men set the table down on the deck, unable to move forward.

“Addie!” the man, Travis, said. He smiled his white smile and put on the charm. “Just thought the place needed some billiards is all. There’s room. You want the first game?”

Adeline ignored him. “Where did you get that?”

“Solomon’s Tavern. No worries. They won’t miss it,” he said. “We’ve got it under control.”

Adeline was not having it. She may have been short, but for most people, there was no question who had seniority. Travis wasn’t most people.

“Did you finish the storyline?” she asked.

Oh shit.

I hadn’t realized that the four men who had been carrying the table were, indeed, roughed up badly. Bobby, the Wallflower, was in worse shape than the rest. He leaned against the table for support. I couldn’t tell where he was bleeding from, but he was bleeding. If they had finished the storyline they got the pool table from, all of that would have been healed.

“We couldn’t do that yet,” Travis said, “But we’ve got it figured out. You see, if we kill the vampire queen before we get the table, the tavern explodes. Can’t get the table if that happens. So the plan was, rush in, get the table, deliver it, go back, and then kill the queen. See, we’ve thought of everything. We’re going back later tonight and killing her. Won’t be a problem.”

Adeline’s gaze would have killed a lesser man. “And what part of the plan was it to bring back an infected player?”

I hadn’t seen it before. Bobby’s status revealed that he was Infected. He wasn’t just sickly; he was becoming a vampire as we sat there watching. I had never seen that status light up before. I hadn’t thought to look.

“That wasn’t part of the plan,” Travis said. “It was more of a loose improvisation, if you will.” He was apparently hoping to get a chuckle from the crowd but failing.

“Go kill the queen,” Adeline said, “And take him with you!”

Travis turned to his party-mates. “Unless you want us to set the table up first.”

“Now!” Adeline said. That was that. She went back inside.

Travis waved the other three men back. “I guess we’re going to have to go kill the queen. Who knows, she might wake from her hundred-year sleep sometime in the next hour.”

“Who was that guy?” I asked Todd later after we had managed to get inside the Lodge.

“Travis Haley. His brother Vernon was the big guy helping him carry the table. Travis’ archetype is Outsider.” Todd and Valorie were busy working up a route for my friends and I to go on. They had a special storyline in mind for us. One that would help us get more accustomed to town.

“Outsiders get a trope called 'Guarded Personality' that blocks insight abilities. That includes seeing them on the red wallpaper. Does your Film Buff trope use Savvy?” Valorie asked.

“Trope Master?” I asked. “Yeah, savvy.”

She nodded. “Well, there you go. Guarded Personality is weird. It uses Grit. To see his information, you need an insight stat — Savvy or Moxie — that is higher than his Grit.”

“Don’t worry about him,” Todd said. “He gets restless sometimes, but hey, we all do." He lifted a sheet of paper from the table he had been working on. “Here you all go. Directions to the University. Have fun. Explore campus and downtown between scenes if you want. Remember, though, if you wander into a monster’s den, it will still kill you even if you are engaged in a different storyline.”

We had just learned that you couldn’t trigger a storyline if you were already in one. This, we were told, gave a player limited means to travel about the town. Whatever this story we were about to do was, it had several scenes that were hours apart, giving us time to explore.

After asking around, no one did know what the enemy cards were for exactly. From what I understood, they mostly just traded them and used them for clout.

“We’re going to the outlet store,” Kimberly informed me as she went off to bed.

“Don’t judge her. It’s therapeutic,” Anna said.

I laughed. “I won’t.”

“Did you pledge a fraternity freshman year?” she asked.

“No,” I answered. She knew that. I didn’t know why she was asking at first.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” she said. She lifted the paper Todd had written for us. At the top, it said, “Delta Epsilon Delta.”