by Hugo Huesca
I was well familiar with the feeling. I never felt more dumb than during the first minutes at the office.
Tonight, that feeling could set me free. Without making any eye contact and trying to act calm even though I was terrified, I walked the few meters towards the Department exit. Police officers passed all around me filled with paperwork, focused in their jobs, deep inside their minds. Only one of them had to look at me and go, “huh, I thought we had a prisoner that looked just like him registered in the computers,” and I’d be done for.
They had no reason, though. See, inmates are supposed to be inside their cells, not just walking around like the other half-dozen civilians around the station. They had no reason to suspect me. I knew that. It was still the most terrifying experience I had had.
“Hey, you, stay right there!” came from behind me. Every instinct I had shouted at me to run for it and it took every ounce of willpower to keep walking like everything was fine.
A policeman passed right by me and shoved me aside without realizing it. I stumbled and caught my footing all the same. He turned back. “Sorry, kid,” and then he went straight to his patrol partner.
“Hey man,” he told him, “where were you last night? We had a hell of a time at the bar.”
I realized I was holding my breath and exhaled loudly. No one stopped me when I reached the exit and no one stopped me after I crossed it.
Lower Cañitas’ night was placid and quiet, like a girlfriend who pretends everything is alright two hours after you two just had the biggest fight of your relationship. A police officer chatting outside even nodded at me when I went down the steps of the Department. I realized he thought he knew me from somewhere and just had forgotten from where. I nodded back and crossed the street.
Behind a streetlamp, my dealer Roscoe was waiting for me.
“I was starting to wonder when you’d come out,” he told me as I approached. He was wearing all-black, like a ninja. A hoodie that covered his face, combat boots, camo pants. He was the most suspicious-looking person in the entire district and that was saying something.
“I waited until shift change,” I told him. We shook hands and I briefly hugged him. “Thanks, man, you saved my ass.”
“Literally,” he said.” You’re lucky this Department has older security protocols than anywhere else in the city. A slightly stronger firewall and you’d be stuck inside your cell.”
“Thank God for underpaid civil servants,” I said, meaning it.
My call to “Mom” was actually made to Roscoe. The guy had boasted many times before of his spats with the Government, so he had jumped at the chance to prove himself again.
“What now?” he asked me, as we walked away from the Department and into the protection of the darkness. “I had fun getting you out of there, but man, instead of spending ten years in jail you’re going to do… I don’t even know how many years. A lot. If they catch you, I mean.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I told him. Then I lied to the man who just saved my skin. “I have a plan to leave the city.”
“More like the country, right?”
“Sure.”
“Alright. Well, send me a postcard sometime. No offense, man, but I’m going to run away. I don’t want my face in any street camera where people can see me talking to a fugitive. And if they catch you—”
“I’ll tell them I don’t know you.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, Roscoe. There’s one last favor I need,” I told him, “it’s very important. Like, life or death kind of deal.”
He swatted a pearl of sweat from his forehead and I realized how nervous he actually was. “Life or death? Cole, you’ve just escaped police custody.”
“I was framed,” I told him before he could talk himself into running away. I needed his help. Actually, it was crucial. Perhaps I was stretching our relationship to the limit, but it wouldn’t matter in a couple of hours. “By powerful people. I think I have a shot at proving my innocence, but I need your help to do it. Proof is behind some high security, so… You still have that spy drone?”
He thought this over. “It’s still not flying straight, but I could try and repair it in a hurry. You’re thinking…”
I told him my plan as clearly as I could. Roscoe didn’t like it one bit, mostly because I’d end up owing him several grand. In the end, he agreed, as the risk for himself was very low. I had to promise him that if I succeeded, I’d credit the hack to his username.
I had no idea what was his username, but I was 100% on board with his demands. He headed towards his house, shuffling awkwardly in the night, the perfect stereotype of a kid who just did something illegal and is trying to act normal.
He’s going to get mugged before he leaves Lower Cañitas, I thought in despair. Truth was, Roscoe was my last hope. He had just risked his neck to break me out of jail, in a way. I’d never considered that good a friend, but he hadn’t even hesitated.
Lying to him made me feel terrible. I didn’t intend to clear my name with his help. I was going to get some revenge while I still could.
Stefania Caputi wanted to keep the Key for whoever she worked for (I wasn’t sure she was with the Government). Mister Ogawa, Nordic’s director, wanted it for himself.
Well then, I was going to leak it worldwide, and fuck the consequences.
As I looked around, planning my attack path, two pairs of car lamps turned on a hundred meters away from me. Instantly, adrenaline and terror surged through my veins. I’d been found. But, by whom?
I turned around to run into the same alleyways Roscoe had used to disappear from the main street less than a minute ago. Behind me, I could hear the car speed and its motor roar. I started to run.
“Cole, wait!” screamed a familiar voice. A girl’s voice that I knew very well.
I turned to the car, almost stumbling with myself, as it reached the sidewalk and almost ran me over. My sister was in the copilot’s seat, halfway out the window, gesturing furiously at me. “What are you doing? Get inside!”
Stunned, I walked like an idiot to the car and bent over the driver’s window like a prostitute discussing prices.
“Van? What are you doing here?”
“We were on our way to try and break you out,” the girl in the driver seat told me. Another familiar face. I was used to her taller, slightly older version. But I’d recognize that face anywhere, even if it had real human eyes and not her cybernetic ones. “I think you did a better job, so far. Hop in.”
“Rylena? What are you doing here?” Even as I spoke, I fumbled with the back door and went in. It was an older car, driven by a human pilot, not software. They were supposed to be illegal, yet here we were.
There was another man in the backseat next to me, big enough to occupy more than half the space. He turned to me with an uncertain face.
“Hey, Cole,” Darren told me, “don’t freak out, alright? I come in peace. No need to set me on fire again.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Nordic
Rylena drove like a maniac who isn’t really sure what’s the difference between the sidewalk and the road. Darren and I swayed in our seats every time she took a curve while bumping against each other. That didn’t help me keep my cool at all.
“What are you doing here?” I exclaimed. I had one hand behind my back, clasping the lock, ready to jump out of the car if he charged me.
“I invited him. What do you mean you set him on fire?” Van demanded. She turned to face us from the copilot’s seat, like a trick-rider on a motorcycle.
“He tried to kill me with a knife!” I yelled back.
“You tried to kill him with a knife?! What the fuck, man—” This time she faced Darren, who had the common sense to try and move back from the reach of her fingernails. Smart move, at that, because I didn’t doubt for one second she wouldn’t go for his eyes.
“Hey, we both were angry that day,” he mumbled, raising his hands in surrender.
Rylena took a sharp
turn left and I flew against Darren’s side and bounced back to the door. “Careful, jeez!”
“Careful? We’re being pursued, you nitwit!” she shouted back.
“I don’t see any police drones behind us,” I told her as I looked back.
“They don’t know where you are, they are extending a search network. Isn’t it obvious? Calculate the maximum speed you can move, assume you’re in a vehicle, use drones to comb the area where you could be hiding while cutting all exits at the same time.”
“And you’re outrunning them?”
“No, I’m outwitting them. The police uses drones, right? They have to use pre-programmed search patterns. I just need to figure out those patterns and drive to places where they already looked. Chances are they’ll go back to check, but they can’t check everywhere at once.”
“You’re doing all of this as we go?” I asked. I knew Rylena was good, but this was ridiculous.
“Of course not,” she said, barely paying attention to me. She pointed at her slim phone next to the driver’s seat. “I’m using a GPS, too.”
“Fine,” I told her, “you know the financial district? Drop me off there.”
Then I returned to the other conversation. I faced Darren and my sister. “What’s going on here?”
“I found him outside the apartment,” Van explained, irritatingly calm, given the circumstances, “he was waiting for you. He said he wanted to help you out and I was already going to meet Irene here, so I told him to tag along.”
“You wanted to help me?” I asked Darren. “Are you sure you’re not about to stab me?”
Darren showed me his open palms. “I’m sorry. I should have believed you. Bliss left the city a couple of days ago, didn’t even say goodbye. My dealer lent me a tracking Script to follow her credit score, she’s now in a well-paying job somewhere on the east coast. I may not be the brightest of the bunch, but I know how that looks like.”
“Yeah,” I sighed, “like someone paid off a favor.”
“The mayor has been running this clean-up of the city,” Darren said, “offering special deals with people that helped jail any… undesirable around. I thought it was you who betrayed me. Sorry, man.”
“I barely think about you when you’re not trying to fucking murder me,” I drawled. I could hear my blood pounding in my head. “And you think I give enough of a shit to go to the police about you?”
To be fair to Darren, he actually looked contrite. “I know I’m not a good person. My temper makes me do things I later regret. I know it’s no excuse. So, here I am. One of The Ferals heard you were in the Department with your last Strike. So I went to see if I could help out.”
I shook my head at him, not sure if I wanted to yell at him or punch him. Instead, I did neither. “And you?” I told my sister. “What do you mean ‘break me out of jail?’ Are you insane?”
“—Oh, don’t you worry about me, I knew the risks. I fucking love being a fugitive and all that,” Rylena interjected sarcastically, her eyes glued to the road ahead.
“We’ll talk in a second,” I told her. Then, “Van?”
“You walked out of the Department and are trying to lecture me on obeying the law?”
“What are they going to do to me, send me to jail again?” I ignored the two “yeahs” from Darren and Rylena. Van shrugged and said:
“Officer Harrison found out about the Strike ten seconds after it was registered on the computer. You weren’t even in the Department yet. He gave Mom a call and I heard her from my room. She was yelling so hard I didn’t miss a word. The police were on their way to find evidence. So, you know—”
“No, I don’t know.”
“I fucking thought you may have incriminating evidence or something, so I went through your stuff. I thought I’d find Script’s nanosticks, but instead, I found a box full of books and a Visage mindjack,” she nodded to a pink sports bag underneath my feet, “it’s there, by the way.”
I ruffled through the bag. Underneath some old clothes waited my mindjack. Seeing it was like meeting again with an old friend. “Thanks, Van. But, how did you go from ‘oh, look, my brother is playing videogames’ to ‘let’s break him out of prison?’”
“Well, something fishy was going on. I know you, you act different —more distant— after you do something illegal. You’ve been acting tired and stuff, but not distant. I wanted to find out more, so I put on the mindjack.”
“You can’t use it to play, it’s account locked.”
“She didn’t play Rune,” intervened Rylena, “she just ruffled through your contact list. She found me online, waiting for you like a goddamn housewife. We talked. I explained what was going on. She believed me.”
“You believed her?” I asked Van. “What, are you insane?”
“She was telling the truth!”
“It still sounds crazy!”
“Fuck if it sounds crazy,” Van exclaimed, “you’re my brother, you ass, you’re not going to get framed for a crime you didn’t commit while I sit in my room playing videogames.”
I realized in horror that I and my sister had more in common than I cared to admit.
“We can’t both go to prison,” I said, “it would kill Mom.”
Then I turned to Rylena before Van could keep arguing. “So, you heard I was in jail and you decided to come pick my sister up. What was the plan after?”
“We were going to wait until you got transferred to jail,” Rylena spoke calmly, but I knew her well enough to notice her knuckles were white as she held onto the steering wheel. “Then, your friend Darren here was going to hack the drone and get you out.”
“I was calling my dealer when we saw you walking out of there like you owned the place,” Darren added.
“It was pretty cool,” admitted Van. “You even nodded to a cop outside. Ballsy.”
“Don’t encourage him, guys,” muttered Rylena.
All things considered, their plan wasn’t bad. It was more or less what I’d thought of, but less risky. It may have worked, even, except for one thing. Police drones have a stronger firewall than a cell door, that’s why Roscoe had to physically walk to the Department. We may have ended all in jail if their plan actually happened.
“Your plan was solid, too,” I said. Hey, it was the thought that counts.
“So, you think Nordic is involved in this?” Rylena asked. She swerved again and Darren smacked the side of his head against the glass. He cursed something nasty. Serves you right, brute.
“Yes, it has to be them,” I lied, “they know we were getting too close, so they tried to take us out of the picture.”
“Beard was right, huh? With all the ‘people who search for Validore get disappeared?’ He’s going to love it.”
“What then?” asked Darren as he patted his head. “We get in, make them confess?”
“I get in, I make them confess,” I said.
“You think you’re going in alone? I didn’t steal my dad’s car just to drive you around, pal,” said Rylena, “we are in this together, remember?”
I shook my head. “Rylena, this isn’t Rune. This is dangerous. If we die in the real world, we die for real.”
“Don’t quote Matrix to me, I know what I’m getting into. Kipp asked us both to see this through. I’m in. Also, I’m driving, so you have no choice in the matter.”
She had a point, but I wasn’t willing to let this go so easily. Rylena wasn’t a criminal and I wouldn’t let her become one. “Kipp asked me first because he knew something like this could happen,” I said, almost in a whisper. “He knew I may have to go against the police or do some illegal shit sooner or later. I was already a criminal and we both knew it. I can go further than you can, Ryl. You don’t have to follow me on this, really. He wouldn’t have wanted it.”
The car came to a sudden stop and I smacked against her seat before I realized it. Everyone else had a seatbelt on, which was smart.
“You think that’s why he came to you for help?” Rylena ask
ed. She had turned around in her seat and was facing me, mere centimeters away from my face. Her perfume was different than in the game. Lavender. “Because you were a criminal?”
“I mean—”
“He went to you because you were his best friend,” she cut me off. “He never mentioned your record. He spoke about his childhood all the time, how you were the only one he knew who regularly stood up to bullies. I didn’t even know you had your share of Strikes until tonight.”
“He—”
“He trusted you, Cole. Like he trusted me. That’s all.”
She turned back to the steering wheel and the car moved again while a heavy silence took hold. I had been so sure Kipp wanted my help to break the law. Never crossed my mind he simply thought of me first because we were friends.
He trusted you, Cole…
Darren whispered. “Seriously, none of my business, but, you’re not that good of a criminal.”
I stared daggers at him.
“He’s right, you get caught a lot,” said Van happily, looking at us from the car’s mirror.
“I didn’t ask for feedback, alright?” I still had to suppress a laugh. “Alright, fine. Ryl, I can’t ask you to stay out of this. You still need to drop Van off before we get there.”
“Excuse me?” it was now Van’s turn to raise her voice. “You can’t just go around deciding for me—”
“Oh yes I can,” I said with a tired sigh, “you said so yourself, Sis. Mom would be devastated if we both end up in jail. She would have nothing left. How do you think that would fare for her sobriety? She needs you, Van.”
This seemed to reach her. She did a face like she had just been stabbed, but she recovered quickly. “I want to help,” she said stubbornly.
Rylena smacked Van’s shoulder lightly to get her attention. “You still can. The police are closing in faster than we can get away. If I drop you off and you go find them, you can send them off in the wrong direction.”
“They’ll put her in jail if they realize she helped us,” I said.
“I can tell them you found me and I had to pretend to be on your side so you let me go,” Van said, “it’s classic misdirection. My team does it all the time to play shooters. One player is the bait, the others set the ambush.”
