Act III: Let The Good Times Roll

### Introduction

Act III - Let The Good Times Roll, is the third page of The Revival, and is a part of the first chapter. It is the portion of the book in which The Man is introduced, and the page in which a fire starts and spreads around Rick's backyard, as a decoy to lure Damien outside, created by The Man.

#### Content

As I watched the warm glow encompass patchy portions of the houses around the one who's backyard we were sitting inside of, a car slowly drove down the street, which was unusual at that hour, and I took note of it despite both Rick and Carl being laughing messes.  We cracked a couple of jokes and I had them both laughing by 11:30, but my jokes were cut short as the same car pulled into the driveway of the vacant home that we were sitting beside.  I stopped speaking immediately and turned to Rick, who was basically a mess in a human's body.

"Did you get a new neighbor?" I asked.  That house had been vacant since I could remember.

He immediately stopped laughing and he paused, wiping the tears from his now worried eyes. I could see him sober up a little bit in real time.

"Not-- Not that I know of?"

We all simultaneously heard the same sound, a low, growl of a deep, monotone voice coming from in front of me and behind the two in front of me.  Rick looked up at me as a seemingly nervous sweat flooded across his forehead despite the crisp, cool autumn air hitting all of us equally.

I looked up and I locked eyes with the exact thing that had made that noise, a man standing right next to the fence, the fence that was... nearly 6 feet high.  The fence that was taller than Rick.  The fence that was taller than Rick, who was taller than me by just an inch.  I wiped my eyes to ensure they were seeing what I had thought they were.

There before us stood a pale, white man.  About 6'5, just peeking at us over the fence from the side of the backyard that sat neighboring the always vacant green two-story house beside Rick's.  The house that had kid's toys and balls and bicycles lost in them from children much too scared to go into the yard to retrieve them.  The house had silently settled in since it was built in the 1970s and then gone on to become an urban legend around the neighborhood.

"Do.. you have.. room.. for one more?" The Man asked, his piercing brown eyes meeting mine.

"I'm not the one, um, running the party..." I answered, trying my best to conceal the fear that I knew was either obviously written on my face or in my voice from being creeped out.

Rick slowly turned around with hesitation as his eyes met the ones that had been locked onto mine.  The Man's eyes snapped towards Rick's, but after that, they just came back to mine.  I looked towards Carl as I tried to listen to the conversation unfolding between Rick and The Man, but the millions of thoughts in my head racing at 100 miles per hour each were preventing it from happening.  Carl turned down the music, and before I looked back up, The Man was gone and Rick was already facing me again with a shaken expression.

"Rick--", I started...

"Carl, go inside." He answered, before trying to get out of his chair and stumbling, in a hurry trying to clean everything up.  I helped him pick up the beer cans and haul the cooler inside, pouring water on the fire, before I asked him, "Noise complaint?  What happened?"

He looked towards me with a look of nearly lightheaded fear I'd never seen on a face like his.  As much as I hate to admit it, it shook me to my core.  I immediately shut up and went into the house with him, through the sliding glass door that was considered the back door.  I watched him slide the lock on and pull the blinds down, I made sure to watch that part.

Him, I, and Carl huddled upon the weary old couch that had been sitting next to the back door across from the dining room table.  If you walked in or were standing in the middle of the front door, the back wall of the kitchen concealed most of the view of the couch from your eyes.  We had a low conversation of what had just happened on the couch, but our thoughts had been cut short as I heard a knock on the door, and judging by their faces, they had heard it too, even though I hoped they hadn't.

I honestly hoped I was crazy and it was over, but that just wasn't the case.  I pushed myself up against the kitchen wall and slowly looked around the corner of it, seeing the uncomfortably familiar gaze of the scarily piercing brown eyes looking straight through the window on the door.  It was a situation where, thankfully he couldn't see us, but unthankfully, we could see him.  I turned to the two sitting on the couch and used my hands to show a repeated sliding motion around my neck, basically telling them not to say anything.

Carl opened his mouth but I nearly pounced on him as quietly as humanly possible for somebody of my size and slammed my hand upon his mouth, desperately trying to stop him from getting us found out.  I shook my head with a distinct look of unmistakable horror spread upon my face and filled within the gray irises and the black pupils of my eyes alike.

For a couple of moments, we laid upon the couch in complete silence until we watched his shadow leave the door.  I didn't take my hand off of Carl's mouth, before giving him the most serious look I'd ever mustered up around him.  He nodded and I took my hand off of his mouth, and we sat in silence for a couple of minutes before feeling the effects of the alcohol hitting all of our bodies individually.  I saw Carl's eyes get tired in real time, and he got up and headed to his bedroom, whereas Rick stayed laid upon the couch across from me.

I knew he was scared, and likewise for himself knowing about me, as well as my thoughts on the situation as well.  I hesitated to fall asleep, but my body could only handle so much and I already hadn't slept much the night beforehand.  I fell asleep, and was awoken to a soft, cold breeze in the house.  My dry eyes snapped open as I noticed a faint, nearly orange glow from the backyard.

I stumbled to the back sliding glass door as I saw the fire spreading in the backyard, barely noticing that the sliding door, once locked, had been unlocked.  I could've sworn I remembered watching Rick pour the water.  No, I helped him fill the water and haul it over in his drunken weakness.  I had a feeling telling me to stop, but no.  I was dating a man whose house had recently burnt down in a fire, for god's sake.

I sobered up as I hurried out into the backyard and used my combat boots to stomp the fire out desperately, praying that it wouldn't grow out of control and reach the fence, given the campfire wasn't in the middle of the yard, rather slightly off to the side that neighbored the plot that had sat vacant for decades prior to tonight.

#### Trivia

It is the first page in which Brent is mentioned, but not by name. It also references the house fire that he experienced in the past.