Alt Control Save

by Kody Boye

  Cars?

  The idea leaves me breathless, but the reality is what fills me with anxiety.

  Do I dare step toward the woods to make my way along the path?

  You’ve got nowhere else to go, my conscience offers. The route you’re taking is leading you nowhere.

  Not nowhere. Just… not in the direction I should be going.

  Northeast, I think.

  Northeast is where the Moth’s Nest is supposed to lie.

  With an uneasy sigh, and a trepidation I cannot begin to fathom, I maneuver toward the treacherous forest.

  Though the expansive canopy, and the pine needles that branch across it, offer some cover from the rain, it is not this that gives me hope, but the fact that I can see what appears to be recent tire impressions in the dirt and mud.

  I am instantly reassured and unnerved at the same time.

  You don’t know who it might be, Sophia, one part of my brain says. Remain cautious.

  But don’t be afraid, the other part offers. For all you know, they could be like Lawrence and his band of men. Kind. Considerate. Helpful. Not dangerous in the slightest.

  Maybe not to themselves or the people they know, but to a stranger?

  My chattering teeth seem to be making all the noise in the world right now. I can hear them even above the whispering rain, the growl of thunder. It makes me feel like I’m putting myself in even more danger.

  Knowing I cannot afford to remain outside forever, I trudge alongside the path, careful to stay close to the edge of the road in case I have to duck into the bushes.

  Fortunately, I see no further sign of habitation along the road.

  Unfortunately, my solitude runs out the moment I round the bend in the pathway.

  At the edge of the long dirt road stands a home—small, but two-stories tall. A fenced-in garden blankets one side, while a tent, erected with and supported by four iron bars, stands to the other. What’s worse is there are two people climbing out of the vehicle, and they’ve yet to catch sight of me.

  I stop. I shiver. I hesitate.

  My foot comes down on a branch.

  The loud snap it makes instantly draws attention.

  The man, who’s stepped from the driver’s side, instantly slings the rifle from the sheath along his back and aims it directly at me.

  I lift my arms to the side of my head in the hopes they will see I’m not a threat.

  “Who are you!” the man calls.

  “Please!” I cry out, hoping he will hear me above the rain. “I need help!”

  “Stay where you are! Don’t move!”

  “I—I’m not—”

  A shot rings out.

  I scream.

  Something falls behind me.

  I turn to find that a giant, mangy wolf is on the ground behind me. What’s worse is that there are others—most skin and bones, their hides taut against their rib cages—lingering in the near distance, their eyes set directly on me.

  How? I start to think, but shake my head and lift my makeshift spear, sharp edge forward.

  “Come here,” the man says. “Slowly, though.”

  “Are you sure you—”

  A wolf inches forward.

  Another shot rings out.

  The wolves scamper toward the tree line and remain there, their eyes seemingly glowing in the fog.

  I take a moment to examine their mesmerizing gazes before turning, making my way toward the man and the woman by the Humvee.

  “You were lucky,” the man says, his voice gruff and filled with caution.

  “How long were they following you?” the woman asks.

  “I… I don’t know,” I say. “I… I didn’t hear them.”

  “The rain must’ve covered their sounds.” The woman considers the spear in my hand. “You’d’ve never fended them off with just that.”

  “I… I don’t—”

  The woman shakes her head. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now.”

  “We should get inside,” the man says. “Louise—grab the bags. I’ll keep an eye on the wolves.”

  The woman pops the backseat door open and retrieves two large, simple camping bags. She slings one over her shoulder, then passes the other to me. “Carry this.”

  “All right,” I reply, hugging the heavy bag close to me as she shuts the vehicle’s door. Then she turns to lead me toward the raised porch.

  The man follows, careful to step backward and keep his gun trained on the wolves.

  Atop the porch, the woman knocks, frowns, and waits several long moments before saying, “I swear. We could have monsters on our tails and that boy wouldn’t answer the door.”

  “He’ll answer,” the man replies. “Don’t worry, hon. He’s probably just fallen asleep.”

  “It doesn’t matter. There’s wolves about, and if anything worse were to have followed her, we—”

  The sound of a lock snapping out of place cuts the woman off.

  The door opens.

  A young man, who can’t be much older than fourteen, answers from the darkness. “I heard a gunshot,” he says. “I thought—”

  “It’s all right,” the man says. “Go inside, Joshua.”

  “Who is she?” the boy frowns, gazing directly at me.

  “Someone from the road,” the woman named Louise says. “Now—go.”

  We enter the home—and for the first time since arriving in Dystopia, I feel relatively safe.

  It takes several long moments for the family to acclimate to the home. The man sets his gun against the wall, the woman sets the pack on the ground beside a threshold leading into the kitchen. When they finally turn to acknowledge me, the most they can do is stare.

  “Who are you?” the boy named Joshua says.

  “Sophia,” I reply, swallowing the growing lump in my throat. “My name’s Sophia.”

  “Where did you come from?” the man asks. “We don’t usually see people this far out.”

  “Let alone girls wandering through the woods with spears,” Louise replies.

  “I came from the city.”

  “The city?” the woman replies.

  I nod.

  A frown crosses her lips. “You mean… the one that got hit by the storm?”

  “We were on the outer edges.”

  “Who’s we?” the man asks.

  “Me and a friend. Leon. He…” I swallow, unsure how or if to proceed.

  “What happened?” Joshua asks. “Where’s your friend?”

  “He got taken.”

  “By who?”

  “The Moth Men.”

  The family can only stare.

  “I… was following a rumor that someone had told me,” I continue, lifting my eyes to the woman, whose gaze seems the easiest to meet, considering her eyes appear concerned rather than cautious. “Some people we were with before the storm hit said there was a nest in the far hills.”

  “A nest?” the woman asks, then waits for me to nod before continuing. “You mean… those creatures actually live near here?”

  “I’m not sure how far the nest is from the city. I just started walking after they took him. I was looking for shelter when I found you.”

  “It’s a good thing you did,” the man says. “Otherwise you’d’ve been eaten by the wolves.”

  All I can offer is a short nod.

  “We can’t send you back out in the cold,” Louise says, shifting the curtains to peer out into the front yard. “You’ll freeze to death if you don’t encounter something worse beforehand.”

  “She’s a stranger,” the man says.

  “She’s just a girl, Michael.”

  The man sighs, but doesn’t offer anything further.

  The woman turns to face me and offers a brief smile. “You must be cold,” she says, reaching out to brush a hand along my arm. “Your jacket’s soaked.”

  “I’m fine,” I say. “Really.”

  “We don’t have much, since we don’t burn fires, but it doesn’t get too cold beyond whe
n it rains. Come—I’ll get you something dry.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” She frowns.

  “You’ve… already done enough. You saved my life. I can’t impose anymore.”

  “You’re not going to be alive to impose on anyone if you die from hypothermia before the night is up.”

  Frowning, I nod and allow her to lead me deeper into the home, whose wooden floorboards have likely seen better days, whose walls are devoid of any personality.

  In a spare room that appears to be uninhabited, the woman turns toward a simple dresser, removing a pair of sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt from its depths. “These should keep you warm.”

  “Thank you,” I say, running a hand along the cool but dry fabric.

  “Don’t mind my husband. He’s just overly cautious.”

  “It’s all right. You have to be careful who you trust. You never know who you could be dealing with.”

  Yeah, I think. No kidding.

  After encountering, then dealing with Cheyenne in my previous game, that much is already clear.

  “Very true.” Lifting her eyes, she considers the window to our left. “Why don’t you change and tuck yourself into bed while we prepare dinner? One of us will come get you when it’s ready.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

  “I’m sure.”

  With that, she turns and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.

  There is no denying the fact that I will be much warmer beneath the covers.

  With that in mind, I strip out of my wet clothes, climb into the dry ones, then slip into the bed and gather the blankets about me.

  I want to sleep almost immediately, but somehow, some way, I compel myself not to.

  Instead, I simply lie here, and I wait.

  The rain thickens as the afternoon wears on, and buffets the window with the intensity of a thousand storms. Cold, even though I am under the covers, and lonely, for I am completely and utterly trapped, I stare out the nearby window and try not to imagine what Leon must be suffering, to no avail.

  He’s fine, my conscience offers. At least you know he isn’t dead.

  Maybe he isn’t now. The longer I wait, though, the longer it will take to reach him. And if I don’t reach him in time—

  A knock at the door knocks me from my thoughts.

  “Come in,” I manage, blinking to clear my vision.

  The door opens to reveal Louise. “Hello,” she says.

  “Hello,” I reply.

  “Did you rest well?”

  “Yes ma’am. I did.”

  “Good.” She smiles and adjusts the bowl she holds in her hand. “It isn’t much, but it’s warm, and should fill you up.”

  The scent of hot, refried beans wafts into the room.

  “Thank you,” I say, shifting the covers off my body before climbing out of the bed. I approach and take hold of the warm bowl, sighing as the smell of the beans enters my nose. “You weren’t worried about cooking? And being spotted by anyone?”

  “It’s raining too hard for the smoke to be that visible,” Louise replies as I take the first bite of the warm food. “Besides—we’re so far out that people rarely bother us, let alone come across our little nook in the woods.”

  “Have you had problems before?”

  “Some, but nothing you should worry about. Here—I brought salt.”

  I add a small amount to my food and stir it up, unsure whether or not I’ve crossed a boundary I shouldn’t have considering I have just met these people. However, as I eat, Louise doesn’t consider me with lament or anger in her eyes. Rather, she watches with concern. It’s almost as if she’s waiting to ask me something.

  “Dear,” she says. “You said you were looking for a friend.”

  “I am.”

  “Were the two of you… going somewhere? Or returning to somewhere?”

  “Me and Leon… we were just trying to get home. That was when he was taken.”

  “By the… Moth Men,” she says. “The Phantoms.”

  “Yeah. Them.”

  Louise sighs. Crossing her arms, she lifts her eyes from me to consider the rain outside. “I wish there was something we could do to help you. I’d go with you if I could, but… I have a family to consider. A son.”

  “I’m not asking you to help me, ma’am. You and your husband have already done more than I could’ve ever hoped for.”

  “We try to help. It’s human nature, you know? To help the needy, feed the hungry, that sort of thing.”

  “I understand.” I pass the empty bowl back to her. “Thank you for dinner. I appreciate it.”

  “It’s no trouble.” She pauses in the doorway and returns her gaze to me. “When did you plan on leaving?”

  “In the morning, when the rain lets up.”

  “And you’re going off rumor, you said?”

  “I know they’re up there,” I reply, hoping the conviction in my voice is strong enough to deter any further question.

  Though she seems doubtful, Louise appears to accept my answer, and she only nods in response. “All right,” she says. “Goodnight, Sophia. We’re just upstairs if you need anything.”

  “Goodnight, ma’am. And thank you.”

  She closes the door with a finality that drives home my situation.

  Sighing, I turn to look out the window, only to find that the sky is darkening, and my hopes of making it to the hills along with it.

  The moderators said they would do everything within their power to help me.

  If that’s the case, then where are they?

  Was this family their shining beacon of hope?

  I don’t know, and though I want to dwell upon it further, I know I can’t.

  I return to the bed with hopes for the future—not only for myself, but for Leon.

  It’s all I can do not to succumb to panic.

  6

  I wake to a hazy morning—with fog that rises to the window and sticks to the panes of glass like a specter attempting to reach through. I can tell, by the lack of light in the sky, it is only just dawn; and though I would rather wait for the weather to improve, I know I can’t waste any time.

  For that reason, I crawl from bed and wander into the hall—where, distantly, I can hear the sound of voices.

  “We can’t give her anything,” Michael says. “We don’t have enough as it is.”

  “We can’t let her go out there defenseless,” Louise replies. “She’ll die.”

  “We don’t have the means to support her.”

  “We have to do something, Michael.”

  “We don’t have to do any—”

  I clear my throat as I step out of the hall.

  The couple lift their heads, frowns on their faces.

  “Sophia,” Louise says. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” I reply.

  “I’m sorry if you heard any of that,” Michael replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t mean to sound callous or uncaring. It’s just… considering everything we go through on a daily basis, it’s—”

  “Hard to help others,” I say. “I know, sir. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

  “We do want to help though,” Louise says. “As much as we can.”

  “What you’ve done is already enough. Please—don’t think you have to do anything more.”

  “At least stay until the weather improves,” Michael says. “The fog can hide all sorts of monsters. You don’t want to risk your safety.”

  “I have to help my friend,” I say. “I don’t know how much longer he has in their clutches.”

  “Which… brings me to this point,” the man says. He sighs, clears his throat, and says, “Are you sure your friend… Leon? Was that his name? Are you sure he’s even still alive?”

  “I have a feeling he is.”

  “But how do you know?”

  “I just… do, sir. And even if he isn’t… I have to prove to myself that I at l
east did something to help him.”

  “I… I think I understand.”

  All I can do is nod.

  The fact that I’ve lied to these people should leave me feeling guilty, but in the end, I realize I cannot feel attachment for those who are little more than the creations of a computer simulation, no matter how advanced they happen to be.

  As Michael turns and gestures to a pack that has been set out on one of the couches, I step forward to see what he is surveying. “What’s this?”

  “The supplies we’ve managed to scrape together for you,” the man says.

  “Sir, I can’t—”

  “You can, and you will,” the man says. “Now, listen. Okay?”

  I nod.

  He turns back to the bag of supplies on the couch. “Your journey to the hills should take maybe three days at most. Because of that, we’ve prepared enough food and water to last for that long, offered you a few changes of clothes to get you through if the weather continues to get worse, a flashlight, a first-AID kit, and a Bowie knife you can use if things get rough. Also—” the man reaches to the small of his back and unlatches the holster at his belt “—I’m giving you my pistol.”

  “I can’t take that,” I say. “What if you need it?”

  “I have my rifle, and my wife has her revolver. We’ll be fine with those. You, though… you’ll need something to fight those monsters off once you reach the hills, which is why I packed extra magazines that have already been loaded into the bag.”

  “This is so much. I… I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything,” Louise says. “Just go to the hills, rescue your friend, and make your way back here. We’ll be waiting for you.”

  “Thank you, sir, ma’am. I… I don’t know what more to say.”

  Michael reaches out and grips my shoulder. “Say nothing,” he says. “Just go.”

  With a nod, and with newfound confidence, I step toward the couch and sling the filled pack over my shoulders.

  The moment my fingers circle around the firearm, I feel a fire rise within me.

  I can do this.

  I can save my friend.