Nicholas Knight - Kaiju for Dummies

KAIJU FOR DUMMIES

Kaiju Wars Offline

Book 2

By N. Knight

Copyright 2018 D20Kaiju LLC.

Thank you to my cousin, who discussed cars and answered my dumb questions about them.

Thank you to my friend Mr. de Luna, who discussed my worldbuilding at length and helped me work out the math taking place behind the scenes for the videogame elements.

Thank you to my friend Professor Ridings, for reviewing my material despite a heavy workload and discussing story and character development.

And, of course, a thank you to my amazing, loving, and supportive bride.

You all made this book not only possible, but better.

Keeping busy, Ive found, is the best way to stave off addiction.

I am an addict. I havent given in to the addiction in over a month now but its still there. Moms condition hasnt made it any easier to resist giving in. Shes got ALS, which, for those of you who dont know, sucks. Shes dying, her entire body steadily refusing to obey her brains commands as scar tissue develops along her spinal cord. Its working pretty fast. I got her setup on a nice quiet piece of property in Kerrville, Texas. Nice town. Lots of hills. Boring as fuck all and not nearly as much business as Id hoped.

Im a mechanic. Technically Im also an ex-con. Im willing to work. Eager to actually. I need it because even splitting the medical bills with Dad, my moneys running out. More importantly than that though, I need the work to keep me busy. To keep away the temptation.

Most people with an addiction dont have to confront their issue every time their hand goes near a screen. Most people with an addiction only hurt themselves or their immediate family or those nearby them when they give in. Some addicts can even manage themselves pretty well and have a normal, regulated life.

If I give in to my addiction people will die. Those people may or may not be human beings, but there will be death and destruction. On our world or another.

A few months ago, I was let out of prison by a mysterious group calling themselves the Game Masters. I thought I was helping to beta test some new, next generation video game that would double as an anger management device. My issues with my tempter may have been a consideration in my candidacy. And my initial lockup.

Turns out the game was real. I was actually turning into a giant monster, a kaiju, and terrorizing some alien planet. Maybe its in another galaxy or another dimension, I dont know. Not entirely sure I care, either. The game was fun and it worked. Id never been so clear-headed in all my life. I never would have guessed that it wasnt a game at all if the aliens hadnt sent a kaiju of their own back to our world.

I killed that big bastard by bringing my own kaiju to our world and swore Id never touch the game again. Not breaking my promise has been very, very hard.

Something taps on the semi-crumpled hood of the car whose engine Im working on, making me jerk upright and bang my head. Several choice words escape my mouth before I remember theres someone nearby whos not supposed to be hearing that kind of language and bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself. The mistake and additional pain make me madder. Mad enough that for a moment I see red as I move myself in a circle in the grass.

Theres a womans voice talking to me. Apologizing.

I bring myself to a stop and take a deep breath. Im a fan of deep breaths. Without the game, theyre my main line of defense against my own temper.

My eyes fix on the woman who startled me. Shes tall and thin, African American with very dark skin and striking eyes. Shes a looker in her sun dress and holding a glass of whats probably lemonade. I wish it was something stronger. Shes only in her early twenties, a few years older than me. A simple wedding ring glitters on her hand.

Her son, a curly, blonde haired boy with her dark eyes, is staring at me from behind her, doubled over on the driveway with his hand on a plastic dump truck. He looks like he doesnt know whether to laugh or cry looking at me. The womans less reserved and laughs openly.

My wounded pride prickles and I bite the inside of my cheek harder to keep from saying, or worse, doing something stupid.

I shouldnt laugh, the woman says. Ive just never seen someone spin like that. It was like, straight out of the Three Stooges, you know?

I dont actually. Ive never seen an episode or the remake movies. Frankly, Ive got better shit to do. But I get the reference and make myself smile. The smile hurts worse than my throbbing head.

The woman, whose name is Aida Dalton, makes an apologetic face and holds up the maybe-lemonade. Peace offering.

I snort out a laugh as I clean my hands before accepting the beverage and take a long drink. Replacing a radiator isnt hard, just messy, and I managed to get fluids all over me. The beverage is refreshing and thank God shes spiked it. I let out an appreciative sound somewhere in my throat that rises to the back of my mouth. Its been too long since Ive had a drink this good.

Thank you, I say after Ive finished half the glass in two huge gulps. Huge for me now. Memories flash through my head of having much larger, much more powerful jaws. A gulp thenI shake my head, and the pain this causes from my recent bump clears out the memories. Mom would have called it a blessing in disguise.

Least I can do, you coming all the way out here, Aida says.

Out here is Huntsville, Texas, a good few hours from where Im set up with Mom in Kerrville. Its famous for three things. Being the hometown of Sam Houston, Sam Houston State University, and Texas State Penitentiary.

Its the last of these that has Aida and her son, Samuel Jr., or just Junior, living out here in an apartment complex only a few miles from the University and occupied mostly by college students. Her husband, Samuel Sr., is several years older than me and looked out for me when we were locked up in youth detention centers together. We havent seen each other in years but he gave his wife my number when Aida, whos used to urban living, accidentally hit a deer.

She has to commute down to Conroe for work and needs her car. Also, theyre tight on money. They havent said anything, I just know the signs. Mom used to travel with me around the US in her RV, travel writing and blogging and sometimes had to take odd jobs when we had slow months.

How much longer you think itll be? Aida asks.

I shrug. Pretty much wrapped. Just need to give everything a quick look over.

She blinks in surprise. Youve only been out here about an hour and a half. She shakes her head. I thought for sure Id wrecked the radiator.

Yeah, it was cracked pretty good, I tell her.

She furrows her brow in consternation. You repaired it already?

I shake my head. I figured it was the radiator when you called and had the auto part store hold one for me. Picked it up on my way over. Figure we dont need it, I just return it and grab what we need. Saved us a trip.

Aidas eyes go wide. You just picked up a radiator?

It amazes me the things some people get amazed by. Ordering and picking up car parts or building a website seem to strike some people the equivalent of pulling a rabbit out of a hat or sawing a woman in half. Its magic! Then again, I guess theres plenty of shit in the world I dont really get. A lot more of that lately, since the kaiju attacks, though everyone else seems to have an opinion, ranging from the end times being at hand to government conspiracy to aliens. The last one is actually pretty close to the mark.