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Gamers' Quest

Page 8

by George Ivanoff


  ‘Forget him,’ coaxed Tina. ‘He's younger than us. He won't be in our classes.’

  ‘I suppose.’

  The lunch bell rang.

  ‘Come on.’ Tina led the way to their next class. They sat at their desks amongst a buzz of excitement. All the other kids were talking about having a new maths teacher.

  ‘Ms Waverly died,’ said one of the boys.

  ‘Yeah,’ said another. ‘I heard she got run over by a school bus.’

  ‘No she didn't,’ protested one of the girls. ‘It was a heart attack, or her liver, or something like that.’

  ‘Yeah well, she's gone anyway.’

  ‘So who's the sub?’

  ‘Don't know.’

  ‘I heard it's some new bloke. A real tough nut.’

  ‘Yeah! What's his name? Mr Cr –’

  Someone cleared his throat very loudly and all the kids immediately fell silent, heads snapping up to face the front of the class. The new teacher, dressed in a grey suit, stood in front of the whiteboard, back to the class, writing his name. When he finished, he held up his right hand and slowly, deliberately, cracked each of his knuckles, one by one.

  Tina gasped.

  John stared, horror-stricken as the teacher stepped to one side, revealing the name he had written on the board:

  Mr Cracker.

  John jumped up from his desk, grabbed Tina's arm and raced from the classroom. As they ran down the corridor, echoing laughter followed them.

  16: Trapped

  ‘Exit game!’ said John, as he and Tina stopped to catch their breath.

  Nothing happened. They were still standing, panting, on the footpath in a quiet suburban street just down the road from their school.

  ‘Not again,’ whispered Tina. ‘Trapped!’

  ‘Come on,’ said John. ‘Let's get back to my place. Then we can work out what we're going to do.’

  As they raced along the picturesque streets, storm clouds began gathering above them.

  The first drops of rain started to fall as they burst through the front door. They slammed it shut behind them, and collapsed on to the sofa in the living room.

  ‘I knew there was something wrong,’ said John. ‘I just knew it. Weird things happening. Then the princeling. And now the Cracker.’

  ‘But what are we going to do?’ asked Tina. ‘We have no weapons here.’

  ‘I don't know,’ said John. ‘I guess we just have to lay low until we figure out a plan.’

  ‘What plan?’

  ‘I don't know!’ John's voice held an edge of desperation.

  The telephone rang.

  John reached over tentatively and picked it up as if it might suddenly grow teeth and bite him at any instant.

  ‘H … hello.’

  ‘John Hayes,’ said the headmaster's stern voice. ‘Skipping class yet again. I am very disappointed in you and Tina.’

  ‘How did you know we were here?’

  ‘Mr Cracker is also most disappointed,’ continued the headmaster, ignoring John's question. ‘He has made it his personal mission, his new goal in life, to return you to his classroom. And I have had little alternative but to ring your parents. They too are most disappointed.’

  The screech of car tyres in the driveway interrupted the conversation. John hung up the phone as his parents came bustling into the house.

  ‘Just what are you playing at, young man?’ demanded his father.

  ‘Oh, I'm so terribly, terribly disappointed in you John,’ wailed his mother, before turning her attention to Tina. ‘What have you done to my boy, you harpy?’

  ‘Mum, Dad, stop it!’ cried John. ‘This is all wrong. You're meant to be trusting, and … and understanding … and nice.’

  ‘I'm afraid that your behaviour has tossed all the trust and understanding out the window,’ said Mr Hayes. ‘And as for nice –’

  The front door burst open and Tina's father came storming in.

  ‘Leading my daughter astray again,’ he bellowed, fire in his eyes. ‘I'll teach you.’

  He barged past Mr and Mrs Hayes, grabbed John by his shirt and lifted him from the sofa.

  ‘It's high time someone pounded some sense into you.’

  And then the phone started ringing again.

  Mr Burrows shook John violently, as Mr Hayes continued to complain and Mrs Hayes wailed.

  ‘The phone is ringing,’ said Tina. But no one took any notice of her or the phone.

  ‘Isn't anyone going to answer it?’ she yelled, panic rising.

  Still, no one responded.

  Tina jumped to her feet and grabbed the phone, placing it to her ear. Then with a yelp, she dropped the receiver.

  Crack! Crack! Crack!

  The sound echoed from the dropped receiver.

  Crack! Crack!

  ‘John!’ cried Tina. ‘It's him!’

  John wrenched himself free of Mr Burrows and rushed to Tina's side.

  ‘We've got to get out of here,’ said Tina.

  ‘You're not going anywhere,’ said Mr Burrows.

  ‘Except back to school,’ added Mr Hayes.

  John took hold of Tina's hand, giving it a little reassuring squeeze and calmly led her to the still open front door.

  ‘Where do you think you're going?’ demanded Mrs Hayes.

  But John and Tina didn't answer. They walked out of the house and into the rain.

  ‘We'll call the police!’ Mr Burrows yelled after them. ‘Then you'll be sorry.’

  As the rain grew heavier, John and Tina picked up their pace, from a walk to a jog, and then to a run.

  They ran and ran, away from everything, not even knowing where they were going.

  17: On the Run

  ‘Stop!’ called Tina, slowing down. ‘I can't run any more. I need to rest.’

  John also ground to a halt. ‘Just a little bit further,’ he said, pointing to the monstrous concrete and glass building up ahead. ‘Then we can get out of the rain.’

  They jogged at a slower pace, through the expansive car park, until they were under the awning at the front of a huge multi-storey shopping mall.

  A woman with a small child on one arm and an umbrella clutched in her other hand, came running from her car. She stopped under the awning, put her child down and folded up her umbrella, giving it a little shake as she did so. Then she noticed John and Tina, wet, bedraggled and shivering. She gave a little gasp, snatched up her child and rushed into the mall, giving them a wide berth.

  ‘Maybe the mall's not such a great idea,’ ventured Tina.

  ‘I think we'll be better off where there are lots of people. At least for the moment.’

  John headed for the high glass doors, which swished open automatically as he approached, letting out a comforting gust of warm air. Tina glanced down at her soggy shoes. At that moment, a scrap of newspaper blew across the pavement in front of her. It momentarily rested at her feet before continuing on its journey. But in that split second, Tina saw a face staring up at her – a fat face with an evil grin. She watched the piece of newspaper as it was carried off by the wind, momentarily shaken.

  ‘Coming?’ called John from inside.

  ‘Yeah,’ she answered, as she went in to join him, still looking back at the scrap of newspaper blowing away into the car park.

  The mall was filled with people rushing about, doing their shopping in the dozens of stores that lined the long ground-floor arcade. As they walked across the court, thankful to be out of the rain, the shoppers parted before them, hurrying to get away. They were met with suspicious stares and sideways glances as people quickened their pace to move away from the bedraggled pair.

  ‘Why are they staring at us like that?’ asked Tina. ‘It's raining outside. Is it so weird that we're wet?’

  ‘Everything around here is going weird,’ said John. ‘People staring at us is the least of our problems.’

  Tina gazed over John's shoulder, eyes wide.

  ‘What's the matter now?’

 
‘The Fat Man,’ she said, pointing to the television set in an electronics store window. ‘On the TV.’

  John whirled around to look. But it was just the news.

  ‘He was on the TV,’ insisted Tina.

  ‘Well, he's not there now,’ said John, as they approached the window.

  And then his eyes widened.

  ‘But we are!’

  They stared in through the window, where the screen was filled with a photo of the two of them. Then they were gone, replaced by a reporter speaking to a police officer. They were standing outside a grey building decorated with a colourful mural.

  ‘That's our school,’ said Tina. ‘The police are at our school. And the news is showing pictures of us.’

  They looked up from the screen to see the shopkeeper scowling at them through the glass door, as he spoke urgently into a telephone.

  ‘Come on,’ said John. ‘We better get out of here.’

  They started back for the mall entrance. But through the glass doors, they saw a police car pulling up outside.

  ‘Now what?’ asked Tina, as they stopped.

  ‘Back inside,’ said John, turning around and heading further into the mall.

  ‘If only I had my knives and stars,’ whispered Tina.

  John looked at her quizzically.

  ‘There they are,’ shouted the woman with the child and the umbrella. She stood by the glass doors, pointing at John and Tina, while trying to get the attention of the police outside.

  ‘Up!’ called John, heading for the bank of escalators leading to the four floors above them. Then he spotted a narrow corridor to the side of the first escalator and changed direction. ‘No, this way.’

  He ducked down the narrow corridor. John shouldered open a door marked STAFF ONLY which ultimately led to a loading bay with a service entrance.

  There was a truck parked in the deserted loading bay. They dashed across to a half-closed roller door and peered outside. An armoured riot squad was marching in formation seemingly oblivious to the pounding rain. Each member carried a holstered pistol and a drawn shimmering sword. John and Tina ducked back.

  ‘This isn't right,’ said John. ‘Things are … are changing. It's like bits of our world are coming through into here. First the princeling, then the Cracker. And now people carrying swords. No one around here carries swords, not even police.’

  ‘It's the Fat Man.’ Tina nervously tugged at her lower lip, where a metal stud should have been. ‘Somehow, he's behind all this.’

  ‘He's dead,’ said John firmly. ‘It can't be him.’

  ‘Maybe this is a trap,’ continued Tina. ‘Something he set up before he died. Just in case we won that other game.’

  ‘No!’ insisted John. ‘It's probably the Cracker or that damn princeling.’

  John ducked down under the door again, to glance out. The last group of police, being led by a man in a grey suit, disappeared into the mall.

  ‘All clear,’ said John. ‘And the rain's stopped. Let's go!’

  They dashed out into the car park and crouched down behind the nearest car. Then, vehicle by vehicle, they made their way across the sea of cars. They were about to run out from behind the final car, when someone blocked their way.

  ‘Found you!’

  18: An Unlikely Ally

  ‘I knew he'd be trouble,’ said John, starting to get to his feet, ready to fight.

  ‘Stay,’ hissed Giles urgently. ‘There are more police arriving and they're all looking for you.’

  ‘What?’ said John, crouching back down.

  ‘Just stay there,’ said Giles. ‘They're not after me, so I can keep a look out.’

  John and Tina looked at each other. Tina shrugged.

  ‘Okay,’ said Giles after an extended pause. ‘They're gone. But you've still got to be careful. Follow me and stay low.’

  Giles walked back into the car park.

  ‘Now's our chance,’ whispered John, ready to run in the opposite direction.

  ‘Wait,’ said Tina.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think we should go with him.’

  ‘You've got to be kidding,’ said John, incredulously. ‘He's probably behind all of this!’

  ‘I don't think so,’ answered Tina. ‘I think he's trying to help.’

  John looked at her uncertainly.

  ‘Trust me,’ said Tina. ‘Please?’

  John looked down at the asphalt, then back into Tina's eyes. He nodded.

  Giles was now several cars away, walking casually without looking back. John and Tina dashed uncertainly from car to car, trying to keep up. Finally Giles stopped at a black SUV with dark-tinted windows. After looking around to make sure that no one was watching, he pulled a sturdy piece of wire from his pocket and expertly picked the lock.

  ‘Get in!’

  John and Tina opened the back door and climbed into the vehicle. Giles got in behind the wheel. He ducked down, yanked some wires from under the dashboard, reconnected a couple of them and the SUV rumbled into life.

  ‘Stay down back there,’ he instructed, as he drove the car out of the car park and down the road.

  ‘Where are you taking us?’ asked John.

  ‘Away from the police,’ answered Giles.

  ‘He could be taking us anywhere,’ John whispered to Tina. Her hand tightened around his. She stared straight ahead without answering.

  They drove in silence for about ten minutes before Giles pulled over.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, twisting around in the seat to look back. ‘We should be safe for the moment.’

  ‘Wots are ya up to?’ demanded John, sitting up properly.

  ‘You're sounding more like Tark than John,’ said Giles.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Never mind.’

  ‘Wots … what are you up to?’ asked John again.

  ‘I'm trying to help you.’

  ‘Why would you want to help us?’

  ‘Because things are going wrong,’ explained Giles. ‘This is supposed to be a happy experience for me. That's why I come to Designers Paradise. But it's not any more. The headmaster has turned nasty. My mum and dad are acting weird. And I can't exit the game.’

  ‘So it's not just us,’ Tina thought aloud.

  ‘There was an announcement at school saying that you guys are wanted by the police. They said there was a reward for your capture. I figured that you must be behind all this somehow.’

  ‘Well, we're not,’ said John.

  ‘You might not be causing it, but you're somehow involved. The whole suburb is out hunting for you. Now I'm risking my neck to help you, so that we can get this place back to normal.’

  ‘Yeah well, I have no idea what's going on,’ said John. ‘One minute everything's fine, then things start going wrong. And they're getting worse.’

  ‘It's the Fat Man!’ yelped Tina suddenly.

  ‘What?’ said Giles.

  ‘Look!’ Tina pointed through the window.

  ‘Look at what?’ asked John.

  ‘That cloud there! It looks like the Fat Man.’

  ‘It's just an ordinary cloud,’ said Giles.

  ‘It's the Fat Man,’ insisted Tina.

  ‘Well, I guess it looks a bit like his face,’ said John, looking intently at the cloud as it began to change shape. ‘But he's dead. Remember? We blew him up.’

  ‘You blew him up?’ asked Giles, incredulous.

  ‘Yeah,’ said John. ‘He forced us into a weird game. And we won!’

  ‘No! I've been seeing him,’ insisted Tina. ‘On the TV. On a newspaper's front page. He's behind all this. He's not dead.’

  ‘But if it was a game, he might not have died,’ reasoned Giles.

  ‘He said that in his game, if you died, you really died,’ said John. ‘And we couldn't get out of the game until after he got blown up.’

  ‘You never know.’ Giles looked thoughtfully up at the sky. The cloud had separated into two smaller clouds, now looking nothing like the Fat Man. �
��Maybe he's still around.’

  ‘Anyway,’ said John. ‘What do we do now? We can't just sit in a stolen car.’

  ‘Where did you learn to steal vehicles?’ asked Tina.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, you come here to have an ordinary, quiet life. So how come you know how to break into a SUV and hotwire it?’

  ‘Oh that. I went to the library and learnt it.’

  ‘The library has a book on stealing cars?’ asked John.

  ‘Don't be ridiculous. I paid to use the information portal.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The information portal,’ explained Giles. ‘You can use it to have any information you want implanted directly into your brain. Or at least, I can. I doubt you have enough money for it.’

  ‘Could we use it to find out what's going on here?’ asked Tina.

  ‘I don't know,’ admitted Giles. ‘That's not what it's meant for. But maybe. If you have enough money.’

  ‘If we don't have enough money,’ said John, clapping Giles on the shoulder, ‘we'll use yours. Now take us to the library.’

  19: The Library

  The suburban public library was situated in a quiet street on the edge of the old shopping district. Parkland straddled either side of it. Trees, bushes and a little duck pond to the right and a small playground backing onto an area of overgrown grass to the left provided cover. On the opposite side of the street was a collection of small shops and cafes. The library was a large, windowless, redbrick structure, with a vaguely gothic copper-domed roof. It looked like it belonged in a larger city.

  Giles drove straight into the deserted park, bringing the SUV to a stop beside the pond behind the trees, out of view of the street.

  Knowledge is more than Power!

  Power is Ephemeral. Knowledge is Eternal.

  These words were carved into a stone block by the library's door. John, Tina and Giles glanced at it as they ran in, not really taking it in.

  The librarian at the loans desk briefly looked up from his work then promptly ignored them. Each time he stamped RETURNED into a book, a loud clang reverberated throughout the library. Clouds of dust mushroomed above his desk.

  Giles led them past the librarian and along the aisles of tall, dusty bookshelves. Beneath the domed ceiling, their footsteps echoed around them. John and Tina looked around as they went – books, books and more books; books that looked like they had never been read. The three of them seemed to be the only visitors.

 

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