Seven percent, six . . .
Red mist descended over the room and blurred my vision. I retched and sprayed blood across the floor.
Five percent health, four . . .
“CodeX, exit,” I screamed.
Three percent . . .
“Exit. Code—”
Something cold yanked me into darkness.
Thirty-Three
I fell, and something slammed into the right side of my body. I opened my eyes, blinked away the pain, and found myself in my bedroom in Colorado, lying on the floorboards in a sweaty, crumpled, quivering heap.
“No,” I groaned. I rolled onto my back and patted myself down. I was wearing my jeans and shirt again.
Milo waddled over, tail wagging, and sniffed my face.
With a supreme effort, I clambered to my feet, gave silly pooch a scratch behind the ears, and stumbled into the hallway.
I checked the time on the grandfather clock. A little after one in the afternoon.
It was like I’d never left.
I returned to my bedroom and snatched up the CodeX just as the Bluestone’s light faded and died.
My shoulders slumped.
I’ve failed.
What did I do wrong?
What else could I have done?
Disgusted with myself, I returned the CodeX to its box and dropped to my knees, picturing the look on Grandpa John’s face when he found out I’d botched the level.
He would be furious, and I couldn’t blame him. It meant that, in order for either of us to get back into the game, I’d have to write in the CodeX, explaining what I’d done in detail. That would take weeks.
Argh.
* * *
An hour later I slumped at the kitchen table, my head resting on my arms, feeling deflated and useless.
I had been well on my way to completing the game, despite it not working as it should. I was so close to helping the others warn the Leviathan, then asking Admiral Floyd to lead me to Grandma Alice.
Now I wouldn’t get the chance.
Sitting up, I rolled up my shirt sleeves, revealing scratches and bruises.
My jaw dropped.
I pushed the chair back, pulled off my socks and shoes, and rolled up my jeans too. Sure enough, there were the scabbed-over wounds where the grondar had slashed at my leg, and the puncture marks on my foot and toes from the purple vole git’s teeth.
“How’s that possible?” I whispered. “It was a game. I’m not supposed to get hurt.”
Am I?
Sure, I’d experienced pain while playing . . . but why have I brought these wounds back to the real world?
I dreaded to think what my grandfather would say once he heard CodeX had trapped me inside with all the safety settings switched off. If Grandpa John had spent countless hours in the alien game himself, trying to complete its levels, then the safeties couldn’t have been off for him, or he’d be dead.
As I pulled my socks and shoes back on, I knew I should be grateful that I wasn’t, but all I could focus on was my failure.
My original assumption was right—the CodeX was malfunctioning in a big way. Bloody typical. Then another thought struck me. Can I write in the CodeX fast enough and get it done before Grandpa John returns in two weeks’ time?
Only one way to find out . . .
I hurried into my room, grabbed the CodeX, and flipped to the first page, but glyphs filled the parchment. I thumbed through, finding symbols cramming every other page too.
How was I supposed to write anything?
Obviously, I couldn’t.
Not only had I failed the game, but the CodeX was not allowing me the chance to return and try again.
With a heavy heart, I set the book into its box and slid it under my bed.
A buzzing sound made me start. Recognising it straight away, I hurried back to the kitchen.
Brrrrttttttt. Brrrrttttttt. Sure enough, the antique phone on the wall demanded my attention.
I lifted the receiver. “Hello?”
“Leonardo?”
I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Hi, Mum.”
“How did you get on, darling? Did you find anything?”
I wished myself anywhere else rather than on the end of that call. I tried to calm myself, knowing she was referring to my Penny Hill Observatory search.
Which seemed like a year ago.
“Nothing up there,” I lied. “Sorry. Didn’t find a thing.”
I hardly dared to breathe as I waited for her response.
Finally, Mum sighed. “Okay,” she said. “Thanks for trying. I’ll look myself.”
My stomach clenched. “No, you can’t,” I said, then cringed at my own words.
“Why not?”
I didn’t have an answer. My mouth worked, but no words came out.
“We’ll go up there together when I get back,” Mum said. “Maybe you missed something.” She put her hand over the receiver, and I heard quick muffled talking. “Leonardo? I have to go, but I’ll be home at six. Love you.” She hung up.
Phone pressed to my ear, I remained frozen, imagining my mother finding a crashed UFO in Grandpa John’s basement.
“Love you too,” I murmured.
* * *
Two hours later, I lay on the floor in Grandpa John’s bedroom and stared up at the fleet of model ships suspended from the ceiling, thinking over the CodeX experiences I’d been through. I gazed at the various ship designs, wishing I could go back into the game and already missing my new friends.
Although they weren’t real.
I sighed.
Mum would be home in two hours, and she’d insist on searching the observatory.
Is there any way to keep her out of the basement?
I knew there wasn’t.
Will she find the hole in the wall and the spacecraft on the other side?
I knew she would.
Groaning, I rolled onto my side, and something solid dug into my leg. I pulled the smartphone from my pocket, the one my father had given me for my birthday.
But I’d lost it in the game. I’d watched it float across the airlock and into outer space.
Well, at least one thing had gone in my favour. The CodeX must have created digital copies of what I’d worn in the real world, including the contents of my pockets.
That doesn’t explain my cuts and bruises, though.
I closed my eyes. “Nothing makes sense.”
* * *
Another hour went by. Now there were only fifty-eight minutes left before Mum came home. Feeling even more despondent and desperate, I paced the sitting room, trying to clear my head.
The CodeX still refused to let me back in.
Why? What the hell does it want?
I balled my fists and grumbled under my breath, seriously considering taking the spacecraft in Grandpa John’s basement for a flight, because if it could—
I stopped dead.
Of course.
I raced into Grandpa John’s bedroom and found the heavy spaceship model. I opened the rear hatch, pulled out the metal canister, unscrewed the lid, and dropped the black rectangular object with the glowing blue crystal into my palm. I left the cube and glass rod inside the canister and returned it to the ship.
I held up the rectangular device, smiling. “I know what you are.”
The CodeX knew too.
It must.
And if the CodeX scanned my clothes and phone, meaning duplicates were inside the game, then the same thing would happen to this.
Wouldn’t it?
It was worth a try.
I left Grandpa John’s room and was heading toward mine when the front door opened.
I froze.
“Leo?” a muffled voice called.
I shoved the grav module deep into my pocket.
My mother rounded the corner, and her eyes narrowed when she spotted me. “What’s the matter?”
“You’re early.”
She scanned me
from top to toe. “What happened to you?”
“Hiking.” I leaned against the wall for dramatic effect. “May have fallen over a little.”
This was met by a pair of raised eyebrows. “Where did you go, Alaska?”
I waved her question away.
“Shall we go up to the observatory?” She made to leave.
“Grandpa John,” I blurted.
Mum turned back. “What about him?” Her expression changed to concern. “Wait. Did you find something after all? Is that what’s wrong with you?”
I considered making up some elaborate story but decided on the truth. Besides, I was doing the right thing, and it was the only way to stop her from finding the spacecraft.
I swallowed and composed myself. “He’s been lying to us,” I said. “Grandpa John hasn’t gone to Cleveland on a hunting trip.”
Mum’s face dropped. “Where is he?”
“Heart operation.”
She stared at me. “How do you know?”
I didn’t answer.
Mum’s eyes narrowed. “Stay here.” She marched to the front door.
I staggered after her. “Where are you going?”
As if I needed to ask.
“Down the hill a way.” She pulled a phone from her pocket as she strode across the sitting room. “I noticed a weak signal as I was coming up.”
She left. I only had a few minutes.
I ran to my bedroom, set the box on the bed, and opened it. No sooner had I done so than the CodeX’s crystal sprang to life, filling the room with blue light.
As I redoubled my grip on the grav module, a horrible thought hit me—would I feel the same pain as when I’d left?
Too late to stop now.
I tensed as warmth radiated through me from my toes to the tip of my head. My bedroom walls vanished, the world rotated around me in streaks of colour, and I spun with them faster and faster until . . .
I sat up and gasped.
Thirty-Four
I was back in the medical bay. Breathing heavily, nauseous, my stomach aching—but otherwise, pain-free. At least the damn CodeX implant wasn’t trying to burst from my skull anymore.
Speaking of which . . . The word CodeX appeared in my vision, then faded and went out. I guessed that meant it was now fully activated.
Bonus.
But my health meter showed I was only at two percent.
Two percent?
One moderately strong sneeze and the game would be over, but I was glad to be back.
This time around, I also had a map in the bottom left of my view, as I had during Ayesha’s demonstration.
Progress.
What else did I have access to?
With trepidation, I opened my right hand, then sighed with relief. The rectangular grav module was still grasped in my grubby mitt.
Or a digital copy of it, at least.
Happy days.
However, instead of being on the floor, surrounded by my concerned new friends and crewmates, I was alone on the examination table with the lights turned low.
Where the hell are they?
And that’s when I realised I was wearing the spacesuit again, not my shirt and jeans. I slipped the rectangular object into a pouch at my hip with effort, every limb feeling as though it were made of rubber. I slid my legs over the edge and stood. I wobbled for a second, then dropped to my knees.
Opposite me was a cupboard. I dragged myself toward it, moving across the floor like a broken marionette. Fingers trembling, I opened the cupboard and managed a smile at the two bottles of life-giving blue liquid within.
I fumbled with the lid of the first, clamping the bottle between my knees, and finally got it open. It took all my concentration to raise the bottle to my lips, spilling some of its contents down my chin and onto the floor.
My health meter climbed, bringing strength, colour, and focus with it. Sixteen percent, thirty-one, forty, fifty-five. I wiped my mouth on the back of my sleeve and polished off the second bottle, winding up on a much healthier seventy-six percent.
I returned the bottles to their rack and sprang to my feet. As if in response to the good news, my health meter hopped up another five percent, leaving me on a respectable eighty-one.
So positive thinking influences it?
A happy outlook gives me extra lifeforce?
No problem. I could do that. From now on, I’d be Captain Optimistic.
The health meter jumped another one percent.
Woohoo.
Now I felt great. My super excellent plan had paid off, and I had something that would prove my intrinsic value to the team—not just the useless CodeX wedged between my ears.
Brimming with newfound confidence, I bounded from the medical bay and marched across the gallery, up the steps, and onto the bridge. “Hey, look what—”
It was deserted. All the screens dark.
My blood ran cold.
Am I too late?
Have the Kraythons showed up and abducted the others? Or worse?
My health meter dropped a few percent.
Damn it.
Trying to maintain a positive, zen-like state, I glanced around the bridge but couldn’t see any signs of a struggle. With a sense of impending doom, my gaze moved to the devastation outside the ship. Have Eve, Mason, Skylar, and Kelvin gone on some foolish mission, or—
Another horrifying thought struck me.
What if the game hasn’t loaded them this time around? What if they’re digital ones and zeros scattered on a hard drive somewhere? Perhaps the CodeX opted not to render them, you know, to be a proper dick and make my life a billion times harder.
I was alone. I couldn’t imagine trying to complete the level without—
A scream made my heart leap into my throat. With one eye on my health meter, I clutched my chest and turned.
Eve stood by the door, her hands over her mouth, eyes wide.
I let out a huge breath.
Thank goodness she was alive and whole.
Not abducted. Not off on a foolish mission. Not scattered game code. She was here.
I smiled and gave her a jaunty wave. “Hey.”
“What’s happening?” Mason ran onto the bridge. When he spotted me, he gasped too.
Skylar appeared next, her expression a mixture of surprise and anger.
Do. Not. Care.
I was glad to be reunited with all of them.
Eve pointed a trembling finger at me. “Y—you’re d—dead.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Am I?” I patted myself. I felt alive, but I’d been wrong about plenty of things over the years, so anything was possible.
“You scanned him, Eve,” Mason said, still looking at me. “Multiple times. He was definitely dead.”
I suppressed a smile. “Definitely, definitely?”
Mason and Eve nodded.
“Did any of you cry?” I asked, keeping a straight face.
Eve cocked her head to one side.
I winked. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
“It’s true,” Mason said. “You were smoked, bud. The implant fried your brain.”
“Well, I’m back now,” I said with a shrug. “Anything exciting happen while I was away? How long has it been?”
“Over four hours,” Skylar said in a flat tone.
My eyebrows lifted at the news.
How the heck is that even possible?
No time elapses in the real world when I’m in the game, so why doesn't it work the other way round? Or is the game still playing tricks on me?
Probably tricks.
Stupid bloody CodeX. It’s almost as if it doesn’t want me to win.
I balled my fists.
Well, I would give it a damn good try anyway.
“The Leviathan is only three hours out,” Eve said. “We’ve been trying to come up with other ways to contact the admiral.”
“Any luck?” I said.
She huffed. “Something’s still jamming signals.”
“Where’s Kelvin?”
“Working on something he hopes will help us locate the signal blocker,” Mason said. “But without a grav module, it doesn’t stand much chance, because we won’t have the resources to—”
“You mean one of these?” I held up the rectangular device from Grandpa John’s bedroom with a flourish.
As you can imagine, this was greeted by three astonished faces. I wished I had a camera because for once it wasn’t me with the gormless expression.
“Where did you get that?” Eve rushed forward.
“I’ll explain another time.” I tossed it to her.
As the grav module flew through the air, something clicked in my brain. The CodeX game had planned this all along, knowing that my grandfather possessed the exact item we needed in the outerverse.
Why did the CodeX force me to return to the real world in order to find a grav module? Is it some kind of weird test? Is the CodeX trying to trick me into revealing my real identity by telling my friends how I found a grav module?
Or perhaps Ayesha was in complete control. Does she influence how the CodeX behaves?
Whatever the case, I needed to keep my wits about me, ready for any more surprises. At least the CodeX had shown me an image of what we needed before it booted me from the game.
Skylar’s suspicious scowl didn’t escape my notice, but I was done trying to be friends with her. As far as I was concerned, she could stew in her own distrust.
Eve handed the grav module to Mason. He held it up to his face, examining it in minute detail as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes.
Skylar snatched it from him.
“Hey.” Mason glared at her. “What’s your issue today?”
Skylar stormed toward me, and I back-pedalled.
She waved the grav module in front of my face. “Where did you get this?”
I shrugged.
Skylar’s lip curled. “Enough of your lies. Who are you really? And what’s going on?” She folded her arms. “None of us are moving until you explain.”
I held up my hands to try to placate her. Right now, Skylar looked scarier than a grondar. “I really am looking for my grandmother,” I said. “And I really don’t know anything else about this place.” Ayesha’s warning about dire consequences rang in my ears. “To me, everything is new.” And that was the truth.
GAME SPACE - Full Novel Page 18
