by A. L. Davroe
“No handholds,” he says. “Nothing to stand on.”
A flash of silver lances across the shaft of light. “Wait,” Nadine yelps, grabbing his hand and almost making him drop the flashlight. “What’s that?” She swings his hand back around and focuses it on the fine line.
Gus’s brows scrunch. “Is that…”
They trace the light back up the line, back over the edge of the pit and to me. It’s wrapped around my wrist. “Thread,” Nadine breathes, relieved.
An idea occurs to me then. Excited, I yell down to Morden. “Keep hold of the thread.”
“Thread? What thread?” Morden begins running his hands along his body.
I scramble in the dirt, trying to grasp the fine thread of spider silk that leads from me to Morden.
“Oh,” I hear him say. “That thread. Okay. Now what?”
When I’ve got it in hand, I stand and hand Gus an expanse of it. “Just hold on.” Gus twines the thread around his arm, spins so that it’s around his body, then braces himself as he slowly begins to back up. I help him, pulling as hard as I can, and Nadine scrambles forward and joins in. Together, we haul Morden back over the mouth of the pit.
When he’s out he shakes feeling back into his arm, and Nadine fusses over him. “Man, that stuff’s as fine as fishing line.”
Gus begins raveling it into a tight little ball. “Yeah, but it’s useful.”
We bypass the pit by going down another passage and continue on.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Post-American Date: 6/24/232
Longitudinal Timestamp: 1:18 p.m.
Location: Free Zone, Central Dominion; Nexis
When I materialize back in the Central Dominion, it’s like being smothered. The dry mouth returns, the prickling of my skin makes me want to crawl out of my flesh, and the darkness is dizzying. For a moment, I can’t breathe and when I finally can, it’s a choking gasp of a breath.
Light appears as Gus materializes in front of me. He continues forward, step unbroken.
“Hang on,” I croak.
He turns around and gives me a questioning look, his expression both asking why I want him to stop and wondering if I’m all right.
“I-I think I know what this is,” I say, my voice laced with dread.
Nadine comes up beside me and puts her hand on my shoulder. “What?”
“I didn’t think about it yesterday, but…” I pause, hating the thought. Knowing makes being here so much worse. “I think it’s a labyrinth.” Meems, after I explained it to her, thought as much, and all the signs point to it.
“Labyrinth?” Morden repeats. “What’s that?”
Gus’s grim face appears behind him. “It’s not good.”
Nadine says, “Not good how?”
“Like wander around until we die of thirst not good. A labyrinth is a maze, Nadine. A really big one.” Gus turns away from us. “So big and confusing that people aren’t meant to come out of them alive.”
“Oh swell,” Morden mutters. “I should have just impaled myself in that pit.”
I roll my eyes. “There’s got to be a way out.”
“Yeah,” Morden says. “Death.”
Nadine suddenly bursts out crying. “I don’t want to die here,” she howls, her voice carrying through the labyrinth so that it echoes back. Die here. Die here. Die here.
I move forward and try to console her. “It’s all right, Nadine. No one’s going to die.”
She shoves me away. “Opus is dead. He’s gone, can’t ever see us again.” Her gaze flicks to Morden and back to me. “I can’t be taken away from you. This is my life.” She’s backing away now, frantic and scared, shaking her head. Her outline is growing faint in the dark light. “We’re all going to die. You brought us here to die.”
To die. To die. To die. The walls mock.
Confused as to why I’m apparently the one she suddenly blames, I say, “What? Wait a second—”
“Just-just stay away from me.” She turns and runs.
“Wait, Nadine.” Nadine. Nadine. Nadine.
Gus grabs my hand. “Come on, we can’t lose her.” I shake my head, denying the hideous whispers of the cavern above. We run in the direction Nadine fled, Morden hot on our heels.
I follow her sobbing echoes and whimpers as she stumbles and scuffs about in the dark.
“Nadine!”
I hear something then, a noise that none of us could make. A deep primal braying noise that chain-echoes around the massive subterranean cavern like a steam locomotive.
I go still. “W-What was that?”
Gus shoves me forward, urging me to continue. “Not good. We have to find her.”
I rush forward. “Nadine. Wait. Please.” I call again, more frantic than ever. I strain to hear her.
But it’s no good, I can’t hear her anymore. Not over me and our rushed pursuit, not over the thing that’s now awake and moving in the darkness. I reach out with numb fingers, trying to find her thread in the confusing tangle of Gus’s and Morden’s wrapped about my clammy skin. There. I yank at it and it glitters down a hall to the left.
Pursuit now renewed, I plummet after her. I continue running, pressing on and down corridors, searching, following the thread. I hear her sobbing again.
We’re so close. I try to command the threads, to pull up more, to command the one in my hand to yank her back toward me. Nothing listens to me.
But the thing, whatever it is, is closer. I hear it grunting along, and then it bellows again.
She screams. A terrified, surprised exhalation that trails off into bursts of painful yelps and screeches and moans and pleas. Then it’s just a long whine and then a whimper. The line grows slick in my hand. I refuse to look at the blood dripping down the line, turning the silver thread red.
It has her now, is traveling with her. She’s still alive. Though by the distressed noise that Morden seems to be making at her crimson trail, not for long.
On and on we go, the thread never going slack, always yanking us, only a few turns behind Nadine’s captor-killer. I can hear it grunting, breathing heavy. I feel its heavy footfalls thump-thumping against the hollow earth. When we are running down a parallel corridor to the one it’s traversing, I can smell its fetid stink, like rotting flesh, can see its outline high above. Massive and tall, with a misshapen head and broad angular horns. My blood is ice and I’m covered in cold sweat. I have little hope for Nadine, but I have to try. She had faith in me. I let her down. You led us all here to die.
When the line finally goes slack, I slow, uncertain.
“It stopped,” I whisper.
Morden steps forward and slaps his armor into place, holding up his gun. “Well, good. Let’s kill the bastard.” He charges forward.
Gus and I exchange glances. If he knows what a labyrinth is, maybe he also knows what’s inside the labyrinth. He mouths a word to me. A word that looks suspiciously like “minotaur.”
“We may not be able to defeat it,” Gus whispers, trying not to let Morden hear.
“I know, but—”
“What are you two doing?” Morden demands.
Gus taps his defensive button. I follow. We charge after Morden.
Nadine was right. She did die here. Nadine lies slumped against a broad door. Morden, Gus, and I sweep into the open area, guns raised and ready to fire, but the monster who attacked is nowhere in sight. It could have disappeared down any number of the dozens of outlets leading into this circular clearing.
When Morden realizes he’s not going to get a fight, he holsters his gun and squats down beside Nadine. I look away when he rolls her over. I don’t want to see how badly broken she is. I can’t look upon those dead staring eyes, accusing me of not protecting her with a power I don’t even understand.
Where is this power anyway? Have I used it up? Why
aren’t my threads coming to help me fight off my attackers and save my friends like so many other times? Do the threads only work on the Knights?
The Reaper appears, and I close my eyes. Shink.
As the lights flash across my closed lids, I hear Morden sob. I feel so numb. Numb and lost. I open my eyes. From where Nadine’s body lies decapitated and broken, another code pours forth. Out and over the walls and up a central shaft leading into the dark distance.
Her dead eyes draw mine back to her, accusing. You brought us all here to die.
Tears begin to well, and I bury my palms against my eyes. “It’s all my fault.”
Gus’s arm slips across my shoulder and brings me close, sheltering me in his strength. “It’s not your fault.”
I shake my head, denying him. “She trusted me to keep her safe. Now she’s gone.”
Gus’s hand tightens on my shoulder as he draws me toe to toe with him. His finger hooks under my chin, making me look into his hard, determined face. “Then that was her mistake. You’re not God, Elle, and it was unfair for any of us to have saddled you with the responsibility of keeping us safe. We’re a team, we’re one another’s responsibility.” He looks away. “No one person should ever have to feel like they’re responsible for the whole.”
Swallowing, I nod—if only to please him, but deep down, her words gnaw at me. Logically, I know that Nadine’s fear and pain at losing Opus must have eaten at her, not only here, but in Real World. She must have realized that our time here is reliant only on our avatars’ ability to stay alive. She must have realized how, like me, she doesn’t want to lose what she has here. All that hit home and ate at her so that when she came back, she was so close to snapping she blamed the most convenient person. She’d considered my power the strongest, and I’d proven a good guardian up until yesterday, so she’d always relied on me. When that power failed—when I failed—I became the convenient person to blame. But she chose this game, this company, this quest. She chose it knowing the consequences, and she was smart enough to know it was foolish to rely on the threads. And, in the end, it was her own sudden, inexplicable hysteria that killed her. So, really, she’s just as much to blame as I am. Still…I can’t help feeling like I let my friend down.
We let Morden take the time he needs. When he’s done, he wipes his eyes with the back of his arm and stands over Nadine’s body. “You stupid woman,” he breathes. “I thought you were stronger than this.”
Gus puts his hand on Morden’s shoulder. “Don’t blame her. People forget who they are in times like this.”
Morden slumps his shoulders. “If she’d just stayed quiet, it wouldn’t have found us. She killed herself.”
Gus glances over Morden’s shoulder, finds my eyes. “I know,” he says. And the words say, “You should know that, too,” because he thinks I’m also smarter than this. I look away from him.
They begin dragging Nadine’s body away from the door. Why she hasn’t disintegrated, I don’t know. I wish she had, then I wouldn’t have to see what I’ve done. As they roll her all the way to the side, her foot bangs against the door, and it opens.
“The door’s unlocked,” Gus says, moving forward and pressing his hand against the dented and bloodstained plastic. Inside is a small room.
Morden peeks inside. “A magic box,” he mutters. “Delightful.”
Gus steps inside then comes out again, dragging the flashlight up the length of the shaft the doors lead into. “It’s an aerovator.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
Post-American Date: 6/24/232
Longitudinal Timestamp: 5:23 p.m.
Location: Free Zone, Central Dominion; Nexis
The doors slide open with a ding ding. The light of the hall beyond the aerovator is blinding. Wanting the open, clean promise of the world beyond, I raise my revolver and step out.
We’re in a long empty hall. To either side the walls are bare of all ornamentation, showing only their defensive skeleton. Steel sheets, welded seams, and rivets. White paint. White tiles. White squares of sterile blue-gray light glaring down from the featureless ceiling.
“Something smells fishy,” Morden whispers as he steps forward. In a moment, his defensive armor is back on, and his gun is in his hand.
Having never cancelled my own armor, I follow after him, revolver at ready. Gus keeps his back to mine, covering my rear.
We’re halfway down the hall before the first door hisses open to my left. From within comes a Knight. For a long moment, he stares at us. I don’t know if he’s surprised to see us or perhaps wonders if we’re friend or foe.
Most definitely foe. I take aim and shoot him between the eyes before he can come to the proper conclusion.
The resounding bam of my gun brings more Knights oozing through doors like the swarm of beetles they resemble. I brace myself, hoping the world will slow, hoping the threads will drop out of space and time to allow me to manipulate them, but they don’t.
“Run,” Gus yells.
And I do. I run because my life now depends on it.
We shoot through the door at the end of the hall and blaze down another hall just like it. It leads to a massive chamber filled with banks of computers and flashing holo-screens.
I can hear the rubber on Morden’s soles squeak against the floor as he skids to a halt and drops off from my right. “Go ahead, I’ll try to hold them off,” he yells.
I spin around. “What? No.”
Gus grabs my arm and drags me along with him. “Come on.”
“No.” I fight against him, but he’s stronger than me. He drags me around a corner. “Gus, we can’t leave him.”
He tugs me harder, his eyes intense. “We have to. He’s buying us time.”
“He’ll get himself killed.” As if on cue, the door explodes inward, and I can hear the Knights marching into the chamber, their numbers growing exponentially as their boots echo off the high ceiling.
Morden’s voice echoes above them all. “I am the Devil, and I am taking all you Goddamned bastards to hell.”
Shots ring out. Bang. Bang. Bang. Glass shatters, a CPU explodes. There’s a low hum as laser rifles recharge. Bang. Shink. Bang. Shink. The shots keep going. Morden is still alive.
We keep running.
Kaboom. Bang. Shink.
We keep running.
The hall before us illuminates as we run, the motion sensors lighting the way. White light on white metal walls. Metal walls lined with panels and numbers and blinking lights.
Shink. Bang.
My heart pounds fracture lines into my ribs. My blood courses like a river against my ears. Gus’s lungs heave beside me. The air is too hot and dry. I’m going to choke. I’m going to throw up. I don’t dare. I keep running.
There’s a door ahead. Closed.
Shink.
Silence. Feet behind us.
Morden is dead.
We keep running, fear more powerful than loss. The feet continue to thunder after us.
A blast of white-hot electric energy snakes along the crevices in the walls. The code follows.
The door blasts open. We careen through it. It slams shut behind us, cutting off the Knights, but we keep going anyway. It’s only a matter of time before they catch up.
Through another corridor, down a flight of steps, turn to the left, another corridor.
And then, far ahead, we see another door, and we slow. And then we stop.
For eternity, the silence of the insular white hall is filled with the echoing sound of desperate breathing, the breathing of the half drowned just pulled up into the light.
When my lungs stop burning. I straighten and swallow. My eyes find Gus’s. His expression is dark, telling me he understands exactly what this means.
Another door. Another death.
If the pattern holds true, we won’t be able to
get through unless another blood sacrifice is made, unless another code is released. But which one of us holds the code?
We stare at each other, long and hard, a silent battle waging between us. I know what I have to do. He has to accept it. I’m the side quest, the attaché picked up to aid him on his journey. He is the Quester. It’s his job to get inside the Chamber on the other side of the door. I slap my wrist, disengaging my armor.
Gus does the same. “Elle,” he begins, his tone argumentative.
I don’t give him the chance to say anything else. I step forward and I kiss him, hard. I put all my love for Gus into that kiss. I want him to know how very much this has meant to me. My fingers tighten on the revolver in my hand, steeling for what they must do.
A gunshot resounds between us. Gus’s lips yank away from mine as if someone were tearing at him from behind. I look around wildly, trying to find who is attacking us.
Gus lets out a coughed breath, drawing my eyes back. “Circuits, that hurt,” he gasps. He holds up a bloody hand and stares at it with teary wonder.
For a long moment, my brain either can’t, or won’t, compute what I’m seeing. Blood blooming from a wound just under his rib cage. Gus holding the gun in his other hand. He shot himself. He shot himself before I could do the same thing.
He moves to take a step, but tumbles over, his body bumping hard against the wall and collapsing to the floor.
I drop my own gun as my body spasms downward with him, my hands going to the bleeding wound, wanting to stem the flow.
“Are you insane?” I scream, the horror of what just happened overtaking all good sense.
Gus turns his eyes away from his hand and looks at me like he can’t quite believe what he’s done, either. Then his expression changes to something grim. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I must be.”
“Holy Hell, Gus, what possessed you?” The tears are falling now, the reality of what’s happening sinking into my very marrow, making it quake with fear.
“I-It had to be done,” he says simply. “I knew it had to be done.”
“No,” I wail. “You can’t die. This is your quest. You need to get up, Gus.”
