Game On! A GameLit Anthology

by Anthea Sharp

  The cold metal of the stretcher beneath her back made Tat shiver. The room was too bright and smelled of bleach and some other cleaner the hospital used. They’d given her a thin gown to wear and only that. She’d almost asked to be taken home until Rose showed up and lay on the metal stretcher next to her.

  Rose winked and reached out to touch Tat’s tiny fingers. “It’s going to be okay.” She glanced at one of the technicians. “Everything’s arranged.”

  Rose appeared rosy cheeked even though goosebumps peppered her flesh. Squeezing her hand back, Tat sucked in a centering breath, closing her eyes as the technicians moved to separate the stretchers and slide them into two different pods. They had to help her onto her stretcher, and the moment she’d peered down at her withered legs, a sudden wave of relief swept through her along with a jolt of panic.

  “What happens to my old body?” she asked one of the technicians.

  “We hold it for a week in case you change your mind. If you do not claim it again, it’s incinerated.”

  Tat nodded, swallowing down the hard lump in her throat. She wouldn’t change her mind. This body carried a myriad of memories from her short life, but she would not miss its crippling prison.

  “Are you ready?” the tech asked.

  She nodded. “I’m ready.”

  The machine whirred as it turned the pod she was in upright. Across from her, Rose’s eyes watched her keenly, not one spark of fear or regret in them. She hadn’t gone into details about how she’d transfer her consciousness to the VR, but the techs had to be helping her somehow. They were acting strange. Had they been bribed? Were they afraid of getting caught? It was too late to worry about any of that now.

  There was a flash of a bright light, and the world disappeared.

  “Breathe. You need to breathe gently. Your new lungs are pliable. Not like your old ones.”

  The voice echoed in her head, but she couldn’t understand what it meant. Breathe? How? I’m in a black pit of death.

  Tat tried to do as she was told, but her body didn’t respond.

  “Come on, you can do it. It isn’t as hard as it used to be. You’ll get lightheaded working too hard.”

  She breathed. A gasp. A flutter of light. Noise filling her ears. Voices. Lights flashing.

  “I—I’m dead,” she whispered. Had she said those words? Were those her ears listening to the sounds? She couldn’t be sure. It felt surreal. Her body was heavy, like someone was sitting on it. Someone large and dense. She coughed. Or tried to. It came out as a small grunt instead. Why was it so hard to move?

  Her legs… tingling all throughout. Her body was waking up.

  If I don’t breathe, I’ll die.

  Tat blinked. White blazing light filled her vision, too bright. “I can’t see.”

  I have to move, or I’ll die.

  Tat kept blinking, forcing air to rush past her nose and down her trachea. Her chest lifted. Her ribs creaked as they moved for the first time in hours.

  “That’s it. Keep breathing. In and out. Transfer is complete. Neurons are connecting fine. Oxygenation level is now at ninety-eight percent. Lungs are fully functional. Toes are wiggling. Eyes are last. Keep blinking.”

  Where the hell was she? The tech’s voice cleared as her eyes focused, and she found herself staring into kind brown eyes. The woman smiled as she took a small flashlight and checked her pupils.

  “Pupils equal and reactive.”

  “Where am I?”

  “Voice is synced.” The woman leaned forward again, still smiling. “You’re in the Society of Dejected Humanity’s anchoring facility. You have just anchored to your new body. Congratulations.”

  “What?” Tat couldn’t quite understand. Unless… of course. Her mind cleared, bringing the past few days into focus.

  I’m Rose now. Not just Tat.

  “Get her up and moving,” said another tech. “I’m late for dinner.”

  The woman muttered a complaint before helping Tat sit up. She still wore a thin hospital gown, but when she peered down, her body looked odd. She had breasts where previously she’d been bone-thin and flat-chested. Her thighs were shapely, more than just a skeleton beneath the gown. She wiggled her toes and swung her legs back and forth as they dangled off the stretcher.

  “I’m her, aren’t I?”

  The woman shook her head. “No. You’re you in a new body. Don’t forget that. You are still you.”

  “And Rose?”

  The tech winked.

  Tat nodded, her feet slipping to the cold metal floor as the woman beckoned her forward. Her legs were strong, obeying her mental commands and holding her weight. She could stand! She could walk! Slowly she took steps forward, feeling the cool tile beneath her feet as though it was for the first time. It’d been far too long since she’d curled her toes and walked about. Now her legs, thighs, hips, and toes moved with each tiny impulse from her brain. Her new body worked. It worked well.

  “Wow, that’s amazing!”

  “Here.” The woman handed her a bra, panties, a shirt, a sweater, and a pair of loose-fitting pants. Clumsily, and with the help of the tech, she got the clothes on and then a pair of shoes. All of it had belonged to Rose beforehand. Now it was hers.

  “Here, this is your body’s new ID with your name on it. These are Rose’s apartment keys so you can take the clothes you want. Everything will be emptied in a week, so take what you need for clothes or leave them and buy your own. Anchoring includes taking over a body’s inheritance, which means her money, if anything’s left. It’s now yours. If you choose to stay in the apartment, you can also resign the lease, but it’s not recommended.”

  “Why?” Tat asked.

  The woman studied her even though she spoke as though she’d memorized a spiel and had said it often. “Because Rose’s life was there, and those who didn’t agree with the anchoring will want to come around. I suggest you leave it behind and move on. No sense in stirring up a past that isn’t yours.”

  “Why give me the keys then?”

  “It’s just easier that way.”

  Tat nodded, afraid the woman was wrong. It would be easier if Rose had just brought a wardrobe here. Something about the tech’s memorized speech was off. It told Tat this wasn’t the usual procedure. More than likely, an anchoring didn’t transfer any other assets besides the body, but she didn’t know. She should’ve researched things like that beforehand but hadn’t thought of it.

  “I’ll take the keys for now. Thank you.”

  “You’re all set.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Where do I go from here?”

  The woman smiled, already wiping down the table where Tat had sat. “Wherever you want to. Just be careful. Body thievery runs rampant in the bad areas. I’d stick to the main pathways and go straight home.”

  Tat nodded, peering down at the small bag with her belongings and Rose’s keys.

  “I’ll head straight home. Thank you again.”

  The woman nodded as Tat left the recovery room, headed out through the waiting room, and out into the hallway of the facility.

  New body. New life. The world was wide open now. But first, she wanted to see Rose’s apartment.

  5

  Tat walked briskly through the busy dinner traffic. Everyone was rushing home through the drizzle dousing the streets with dirty, contaminated water. Clouds formed inside the domes, but they were never thick enough to release a good, cleansing rain. The edges of her pants were already drenched in dirt flinging off the road and other pedestrian’s shoes. This was the main path to Rose’s apartment. It was considered safe enough, but wander off the main street, and the vultures lay in wait.

  Shivering, Tat pulled the hoodie around her svelte body. She was no longer frail, but the cold still penetrated through the damp fabric. Hurrying to the apartment building where Rose had lived, she entered the lobby with a sigh. No one threw her a second glance. The only acknowledgement she got w
as from the doorman, who just gave her a short nod when he held the door for her.

  The place was swanky, nicer than any place Tat had ever visited. The lobby had shiny marble floors, and a miserable janitor was mopping up the muddy mess the tenants had dragged in. He kept his eyes lowered, but the deep frown indicated he didn’t appreciate her existence at this very moment, leaving impressions of her sneakers on the shiny floor.

  She apologized profusely as she rushed toward the chip-operated elevator. She held her wrist to it, and the red light turned green. A bell chimed as the doors slid open, acknowledging the chip implanted beneath her skin. The doors slid open, and she slipped inside, hoping to avoid any further attention from the lobby staff. She didn’t need any eyes on her. Not when she wasn’t who they thought she was.

  Arriving at Rose’s floor, she tip-toed out of the elevator and to the door with the number indicated on the key. She slid the old-fashioned metal key into the lock, turning it until it clicked. Spinning gears whirred to life and unhooked the metal latches inside the door. When the sound stopped, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

  Darkness met her, and the flash of lightning outside lit up the vast apartment.

  I could keep this place, she thought. I could live and work here if I wanted to.

  But that wasn’t a good idea. The tech had said so. How bad could it be? This place was huge and could accommodate her and Jed easily.

  “Rose? Is that you?”

  Tat froze, holding her breath as another flash of lightning silhouetted a figure sitting on the couch. What was a stranger doing in Rose’s living room, drinking a martini in the dark?

  “Rose, baby… where have you been?”

  She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. This man knew Rose. Probably intimately. Suddenly, the figure stood up, and the lights flashed on, flooding her vision with the stark décor of Rose’s apartment. The lamps, furniture, even the rug, were all a glaring white, unmarred by the dirty world outside.

  “Who’s there?” she asked quickly, hoping he would state his name before he got any closer. She couldn’t appear clueless. She had to play along, at least for now.

  “Rose? It’s Pender, baby. I’ve been so worried. I called and called. Did you not get my messages?” He stood and took a few steps toward her.

  She grabbed the bag with Rose’s belongings. Why hadn’t she checked Rose’s tablet? She might’ve gotten a lot from it before venturing into this foreign place.

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “You’ve been gone six days. Where did you go?”

  “I was visiting a friend. A sick friend. You know, in the Helix District.”

  Pender wrinkled his nose at the mention of her group home’s district. It was a poorer area she was sure he’d never had the pleasure of walking through.

  “I’m relieved you made it out of there without getting assaulted.”

  She scoffed. “It’s not a slum.” She dropped the bag and peered around the apartment. This guy was a nuisance. How to get rid of him?

  “What are you doing sitting in the dark?” she asked.

  “I had a long day at work. It doesn’t help when my girlfriend is missing and never called me.”

  She crossed her arms. She’d had enough. “I’m not your girlfriend. This is my apartment, right?”

  “Come on, Rose. We’ve been through this before.” He took a step back. “I was going to move in. Did you change your mind about that?”

  “No!” she said far too quickly. “I haven’t changed my mind. Look, I’m tired. My friend died, so I just want to rest. Can you give me some space?”

  Please leave, she begged him silently. Please.

  “Fine. But if you need anything, call me. And turn on your tablet, for God’s sake.” Pender moved to give her a hug, but she held her ground, avoiding his gaze and feigning anger and weariness. “I’ll see you in a few days. I’m going to the Ono District tomorrow for business, and we’re staying for a week and a half.”

  “Okay.”

  “You really should shower. You reek of the subpar peasants.”

  Tat bit her lip before she blurted out an acidic comeback. A moment passed while Pender decided she was in no mood to chat. He grabbed his jacket, slipped on his fancy shoes, and made his way to the door. He paused before he let himself out into the hallway. She was sure he suspected something, but he closed the door without another word.

  Tat slumped her shoulders, her heart racing. If he hadn’t left, she wouldn’t have known what else to do. Unzipping the wet hoodie, she tossed it onto a nearby chair and peered around. “Wow. I could get used to this.”

  She quickly toured the place then began stuffing some of Rose’s jewelry into her bag. She’d take valuables first and trade them for cash. She’d use most of the money to find a new townhouse for the group home. Then she could decide if she wanted to live in this swanky place or at the group home. There was no way Naomi would toss her out after her large contribution to their comfort. No way in hell.

  Taking another toss through the place, which was far too clean and bare to be anyone’s sanctuary, she realized just how barren, lonely, and cold it felt. She couldn’t stay here. The proceeds of the jewels would go to her group home by anonymous donation.

  Satisfied, she was about to leave Rose’s bedroom when she spotted the computer station sitting on the desk. It was decked out with three top-of-the-line monitors, three keyboards, and a dual tower system with an expensive VR visor, microphone, and interactive bodysuit to wear while in VR. It made the whole experience more real for the user. No wonder Rose didn’t want to leave the VR. Who would, with all this tech? It would make it feel like it was more real than the real world.

  Tat swallowed, acutely aware of how much her fingers itched to don the equipment and dive in. How hard it must have been for Rose to rip herself out of it. But she was in there now, forever.

  Tat nodded, knowing that with her new body, she had to do some good. Something her frail one never could. She could join the groups rallying for better food, cleaner air and water. She could even finance them now; Rose was far richer than Tat had imagined. Why would she not want to do something noble with her life?

  And she would. She turned away from the station, resisting the pull of fantasy. It was so easy to get lost in the fake world. No wonder the real one was crumbling around them.

  The other orphans at the group home depended on her. She could now give them opportunities they never would’ve had without Rose’s sacrifice. Tat had to use it for them. That was her top priority. She could never again let herself get lost in the façade of the VR.

  She bit her lip, willing herself to don a rain jacket from Rose’s closet and pick up the bag full of valuables. After one last glance around, she nodded. This was what she was meant to do. She could feel it in her marrow. And when the group home was set, she’d try to help even more people. With this able body, she could do more for humanity than the VR ever could.

  She moved toward the front door. As it slammed shut behind her, she never once looked back.

  About the Author

  Alexia Purdy is a USA Today bestselling author who currently lives in Las Vegas and loves spending every free moment writing or hanging out with her four rambunctious kids. Writing is the ultimate getaway for her since she's always lost in her head. She is best known for her award-winning Reign of Blood series, and A Dark Faerie Tale series.

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  Level Ten - Danielle Annett

  Griffin blood was a killer to get out of clothes. Good thing the Griffin blood in question wasn’t real. At least, not in th
e sense of reality.

  But knowing it wasn’t real didn’t make the noxious odor or the sickly feel against the side of my face any better.

  I cleaned my cheek with the back of my hand and wiped my blade on my loose fitting cargo pants before holstering my .45 ramhawk handgun.

  It would have to do.

  “That’s never coming out,” Jax, my partner in crime, said.

  I rolled my eyes and flipped him off. “Smart ass.” I shoved to my feet from the boulder I’d been resting on. “It’ll come out as soon as we get out of this godforsaken hell hole.”

  “Congratulations. Level nine complete.”

  I ignored the automated voice that echoed from nowhere and everywhere all at once. I used to welcome the sound. Now I just wanted to punch the speaker in the face.

  That voice was embedded in both my dreams and my nightmares.

  “Come on. We just passed level nine so we need to get moving before the cleaners come through.”

  The cleaners were the Helix underlings who cleared out the dead bodies in between levels.

  There was a small window—maybe five minutes between levels—when a gamer could be swept up with the bodies left behind as the Helix transitioned a gamer to the next level.

  They claimed when it happened that it was unintentional. An accident.

  I called bullshit.

  No one gave a damn about any of the players inside the Helix. Least of all players like me and Jax who’d opted to play the game instead of serving our sentences for crimes committed against the Republic.

  I was sentenced to thirteen rounds. Jax was too. Thirteen seemed to be our lucky number.

  My crime wasn’t a crime at all if you asked me.

  The Republic was killing its people. They rationed our resources and taxed what little income we had, leaving us with next to nothing to survive on.

  It was a criminal offense to steal. It made no difference if you were starving. If you had a family to provide for, like I did.

  Any offense, no matter how small, was looked at as treason against the Republic. And any disobedience was dealt with swiftly and with no regard to the situation.