She didn’t wait to see the explosion. She heard and felt the blast as she ducked back down behind the cupboards. The rifle’s battery pack lit up the coffee shop like a firework, filling the air with searing heat. When Casey was sure it was over, she cautiously stood back up again.
Scratch had been thrown halfway across the store by the blast. The air around him crackled with electrical energy. Casey ran over to where he lay on the floor.
“Where’s my brother?” she demanded.
Scratch turned his head to look at her. He didn’t respond. Casey wasn’t even sure he knew what she was saying. Did he understand the word “brother”? Did they even have families where he was from? She wished she could see what was underneath the curved black helmet.
She reached down to pick up Scratch’s plasma rifle, to replace the one she’d just turned into a bomb. It was battered from the blast but still working. It might come in useful before today was over. As she took it, the alien grabbed her wrist with his black-gloved hand. Casey stared into his burning red eyes for a second then pulled herself free.
“Game over,” Casey said in her best blockbuster heroine voice. Then she turned and ran out of the café.
She only managed to take a few steps before she had to stop and throw up.
14
GO WITH THE FLOW
Space Invaders was simple to play but hard to master. Standing in the garage, Casey and Pete took it in turns. The aim was to stop five rows of blocky invading aliens from reaching the bottom of the screen. The only weapon you had was a gun turret that slid left and right below them. When things got too much, you could hide from the aliens’ missiles under one of four chunky bases. But the bases slowly disintegrated as they were hit.
Space Invaders didn’t have a story. You didn’t know who the aliens were or why they were invading. You just had to stop them. Every time you cleared a screen of enemies, though, a new wave of invaders appeared that was faster and more deadly than before. It was frustrating, yet addictive.
“I hate this game,” Pete complained as his gun turret blew up for the hundredth time that day. “There’s no way to win.”
“You’re not supposed to win,” his dad laughed. “These old arcade games were designed to make you lose so you’d keep slotting in more coins. Why don’t you have another go? I’ll help you this time.”
Dad watched as Pete played, studying his moves and giving him tips.
“The game came from Japan,” he explained. “The designer based the aliens on sea creatures. Those ones at the top look like squids. They’re worth thirty points. That one over there is a crab. It’s twenty points. This one’s an octopus. He’ll get you ten points.” He pointed to the pixel enemies as they stuttered across the screen. “When Space Invaders was first released, it was so popular that the whole of Japan ran out of coins.”
“You’re putting me off,” Pete whined, as he lost the first of his three lives.
“I was just trying to teach you something,” their dad said softly. Casey could see that Pete wasn’t interested. A couple of minutes later, Pete lost his last life.
“I don’t know why you bought this piece of junk,” he moaned.
“I just wanted you to see what video games were like when I was your age.”
“Well, now I know. They were crap.”
“Peter!”
“I’m gonna go play Fortnite.” Pete pushed past Casey and headed back into the house.
“He never likes being told what to do, does he?” their dad mused. “Always thinks he’s more grown up than he actually is.” He turned to Casey. “What about you? Are you bored of it too?”
“No way.” Casey stepped up to the machine. She was secretly pleased to have her dad all to herself. He watched her as she cleared the first couple of screens. On every new screen, the invaders got faster and faster. The thudding sound effects sped up too. It reminded her of the theme tune for Jaws.
Duh-dah. Duh-dah. Duh-dah. Duh-dah. Duh-dah. Duh-dah. Duh-dah.
It was surprisingly stressful.
“Concentrate your fire on the column on the right,” her dad advised after she’d lost two of her lives. Casey blasted the column he pointed to, wiping them out. It was a great strategy. By removing the column, you added a second or two to the invaders’ journey across the screen, slowing them down before they descended to the next row.
“Nicely done,” her dad said encouragingly. “Try not to think too much. Just let your hands take over. Move. Stop. Shoot.”
A siren wailed as a flying saucer moved across the top of the screen. Casey knew it was worth bonus points if she could hit it. She scooted out from under a base and tried to line up her shot.
“No!” she yelped as her turret took a direct hit from an alien missile. She looked at her score.
“Not bad,” her dad said.
“It’s nowhere near your high score.”
He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You know what your problem is, Casey? You’re thinking too much. You need to find your flow.”
“Flow? What’s that?”
“It’s what they call it when you’re in the zone,” he explained. “When you get really good at something – really, really good – your mind empties and your instincts take over. You stop worrying about everything and just exist in the moment. When a professional musician gets onstage, he doesn’t think about how to play. He just plays. It’s automatic. Or when an Olympic runner hears the starting pistol, she isn’t thinking about how to run. She just runs. Or…”
His voice trailed off.
“Or what?” Casey asked, sensing something interesting behind his hesitation.
“Nothing.”
“Come on, Dad. Tell me.”
He paused a moment, as if deciding whether or not to finish his thought. She gave him her best puppy-dog expression. He sighed.
“I was going to say that it’s like when I’m defusing a bomb.”
Casey looked at him sideways. He hardly ever talked about his job with her.
“When someone finds an unexploded bomb in a war zone, they call my team in to help,” he explained. “By the time we get there, the local police and the army have usually cleared the area and pulled everyone back to a safe distance. I put on my bomb suit and helmet and walk into the evacuated area. It’s completely still and quiet. We call it the Long Walk.”
Casey listened silently, not wanting to say anything in case he stopped. “As you make that walk, your mind just empties. Nothing else matters. It’s just you and the bomb. You’re totally focussed on defusing that thing without it exploding.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
“Of course I am. But I can’t listen to that little voice in the back of my head saying, Run away! or, You’re going to die! I have to block it out to get the job done.”
“You have that voice too?” she asked, surprised. She often heard a whiny voice telling her she was no good.
“Everyone does,” he laughed. “The trick is to learn how to ignore it.”
Casey felt strange. Hearing her dad talking about dying had freaked her out. He must have sensed her discomfort because he changed the subject quickly.
“Let’s try again,” he said, tapping the start button. “But this time, go with the flow…”
On the last Saturday night of the summer holidays, the family shared a Chinese takeaway. While Casey and Pete fought over the last barbecue spare rib, their dad announced that he was being deployed again.
“We’re leaving on Wednesday,” he said. “Someone made a mistake with our orders. It’s all a bit last-minute.”
Casey felt the temperature in the room drop. Her mum toyed with the noodles in her bowl.
“I’m sorry, Rebecca. I know it’s not long to prepare.”
Casey looked from one parent to the other and waited for her mum to say something. It was Pete who spoke first, though.
“You’re going to miss my birthday,” he said quietly, almost under his breath. He was turning nine in two
weeks and had asked for a paintball party in the woods. Dad had promised to put him and all his mates through “basic training”.
“We’ll work something out. Why don’t we celebrate your birthday early?”
“Will we still be able to go paintballing?”
“I don’t think we can move the party,” their mum said. “But your dad’s right, we’ll sort something else out. An extra birthday surprise. Just the four of us.”
Casey could see her mum was upset. She wasn’t even looking at her dad as she spoke.
Pete pushed away from the table. “I thought you said the war was over.”
“It is,” Dad told him, “but we still have soldiers out there, trying to make the country safe for the people who live there. It’s important.”
“It’s not fair,” Pete said crossly. “You said you’d be here.”
“I’m really sorry, son. It isn’t my choice.”
“You’ve spent all summer playing that stupid game with Casey. What about me? When do I get to do something special with you?”
Dad looked hurt. “How about we find something we can do together when I get back?” he suggested. “What about that old Nintendo 64 console we saw on eBay? I’ll teach you how to play GoldenEye. You’ll love it. We can play deathmatch, all three of us.”
“I don’t want to play all three of us!” Pete shouted. “I just want you to play with me. If you loved me you would be here.” He rushed out of the room and thundered up the stairs.
“He doesn’t mean it, Mike,” Casey’s mum said. “He’s just upset.”
“Does he really think I want to miss his birthday?” their dad asked softly. “Doesn’t he understand that I don’t get a choice about when we leave?”
“I know. Let me talk to him.”
In the kitchen, a little later, Casey washed the dishes while her dad dried them with a tea towel. She rinsed suds off a bowl and passed it to him.
“Why do you keep going back if you’re scared?” she blurted out. “Why don’t you just stay here with us and Mum?”
Her dad stopped drying the bowl. “Because it’s my job.”
“You could get another one.”
They stood in silence a moment.
“I joined the Royal Engineers because I wanted to help people,” her dad told her. “My team goes to dangerous places and we try and stop people from getting killed by bombs, IEDs, anything that goes ka-boom!”
“Mum’s angry with you.”
“No, she’s just worried. She always worries about me when I’m away. It’s a dangerous job … but it’s what I’ve been trained to do.”
Her dad finished drying the bowl and put it away in the cupboard.
“Do you know what scares me more than being blown up?” he asked. “Letting my team down. There’s four other people in my squad and I’m in charge of them. They’re my responsibility. They all have families who care about them too. That’s why I have to go. I have to look after them.”
“Why you? Can’t someone else do it?”
“Because I’m good at what I do, Casey. It’s the only thing I’ve ever been really good at.”
“Apart from video games,” said Casey. “You’re good at them, too.”
Her dad didn’t say anything.
Casey scraped leftover noodles into the food waste and then washed up the plate.
“Is leading people hard, Dad?” she asked.
He stopped to think about the question before he answered it.
“It’s a lot of responsibility. The trick is to believe in yourself. Because if you don’t, how will anyone else?”
Casey passed him the wet plate to dry. “It’s like Space Invaders,” she said, thoughtfully. “You’re responsible for keeping everyone safe.”
Her dad put down the plate and gave her a big hug. He held her tight in his strong arms and she pretended not to see the tears in his eyes.
“Right then,” he said when he’d collected himself, “these dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.”
Casey didn’t realize it, but that would be the last conversation she’d have with her dad.
15
PRESS BUTTON TO SPEAK TO OPERATOR
Casey ran for the lifts. Her arms ached from holding Scratch’s plasma rifle, but she didn’t dare put it down. She could hear footsteps in the distance through the eerie silence of the shopping centre. The Red Eyes were hunting her.
She jabbed the button anxiously. The lift began its slow descent towards her.
Fourth floor. Third floor.
It was in no hurry.
Casey wondered what she’d do if the lift was full of aliens. She couldn’t take on a whole squad of them. This was nothing like the game. In SkyWake you had a team and you worked together, and even if you failed, it didn’t really matter. Your dinner would still be on the table after you logged out, and your friends would still be waiting for you at school the next day.
It wasn’t real.
Here in the shopping centre, though, it was life and death … with no respawns.
She stared at her watch. It had been almost an hour since the attack began. Which meant it had been an hour since she had last seen Pete. She remembered what the woman in the kitchenware shop had said about the Red Eyes taking prisoners. She had to find her brother. But how? On an ordinary day she’d go and ask for an announcement on the public address system. Or find a security guard. She looked up at the ceiling, noticing a camera.
That was it! The CCTV system.
If she could find the security control room, she could use the cameras to hunt for Pete.
The lift pinged, jolting her out of her thoughts. She tensed … but it was empty. She jumped inside and hit the button for the floor above.
“Doors closing,” said a robotic voice.
Along the balcony she could hear footsteps coming her way. They were running at full pelt now, pounding the marble floor tiles. The Red Eyes had found her!
She jabbed the up button again, faster this time. The mechanism was so slow.
The doors began to close. She willed them to hurry but they slid towards one another without any sense of urgency.
The footsteps drew closer and closer.
Casey instinctively dropped to one knee and adopted a firing position. She stared down the rifle’s sights, aiming at the closing gap between the lift doors. Holding the gun like that, seeing nothing but the barrel and her hands, was like being in first-person mode. She held her breath. The doors had almost closed when a foot jammed them open. They jerked apart again automatically.
Casey’s finger tightened around the trigger.
“Don’t shoot!” yelled Brain, pulling up short and throwing his hands over his face in shock as he saw the gun pointing at him. Elite skidded into his back.
Casey let the rifle drop. Her stomach lurched as she realized how close she’d come to blasting her friends. The two boys bundled inside the lift, falling over one another in their haste.
“They’re right behind us!” Brain said.
“Where are the others?”
“We got split up,” Elite explained, panting for breath. His tracksuit was ripped and his once brilliant-white trainers were now scuffed and dirty. “It was nasty. The Red Eyes were shooting everything.”
“We can’t just leave them behind,” Casey said.
It was too late. Just before the doors slid together, Casey glimpsed four Red Eyes come running around the corner. Then the doors clanged shut. They were safe. For now.
“Lift going up.”
The boys stared in awe at the plasma rifle in Casey’s hands.
“Do you know how to use that thing?” Brain asked.
Casey turned the rifle onto its side to show them the touchscreen with its familiar glyphs.
“It’s just like in the game,” she explained.
“What, like, press ‘X’ to reload?” Elite scoffed, incredulous.
Before Casey could explain further, the lift jerked violently to a stop, almost knock
ing them off their feet.
“What happened?” she asked. “Did they cut the power?”
“The lights are still on,” Brain said, looking up. It was true. The lift’s lights hadn’t even flickered. It was the mechanism that had stopped.
“Small spaces freak me out big time,” Elite fretted, eyeing the walls as if they were about to close in on them. He bunched his hands into fists over and over.
Casey looked at Brain, uncertain what to do.
“Hey, you guys,” said a voice. It seemed to come out of thin air.
“Who said that?” Brain demanded, looking around suspiciously.
“Over here,” the voice said. It wasn’t the lift’s robotic tone. It was a real person speaking to them. Casey followed the sound to the lift’s control panel. “That’s it,” the voice encouraged them. It was as if it could see them.
“Cheeze?” Casey asked, suddenly recognizing their friend’s voice. There was no answer. She could see a circular speaker built into the control panel. There was an embossed sign above it: IN AN EMERGENCY, PRESS BUTTON TO SPEAK TO OPERATOR.
Casey hit the button. It was stiff from lack of use.
“Cheeze?” she asked. “Is that you?” The voice was silent. “Hello?” Nothing. She released the button. As soon as she did, the speaker on the panel burst back into life with a crackle.
“You need to let go of the button to hear me,” the voice said. “It’s like a walkie-talkie, not a telephone.”
“Cheeze!” Casey shouted, thrilled. “It is you! Where are you? Can you help us get moving? The lift is stuck.” She remembered to release the button this time.
“I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” Cheeze told them. “Bad news is there’s a bunch of Red Eyes waiting on the next floor. They look like they’re going to ambush you.”
“You can see them?”
“I can see everything,” Cheeze said, showing off a little. “Smile, you’re on camera.” Casey looked up at the ceiling and noticed a fish-eye CCTV lens staring down at them. “Me and Fish are in the security control room,” he explained.
“Please, guys,” Elite interrupted. “I just want to get out of here. There’s no air. I feel like I’m suffocating.” His back slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor with his knees against his chest. His breathing came shallow and fast.
SkyWake Invasion Page 9
