by Teri Terry
Sparky nods. ‘Assuming it’s intact enough to get up. Let’s try it. But there’s no easy way out if they track us there. We need to split up.’ She points down a street that winds along the foul river. ‘Find a defensive position. Keep your fingers crossed, and keep a look out for us.’ Sparky’s eyes settle on me. ‘This was your bright idea, Luna. You can come with me.’
The others vanish and we run for the clock tower.
Sparky glances at me. ‘You look pale.’
‘You look like you’re having fun.’
‘I am. I love combat games. Don’t you?’
‘Er…I’ve never actually been in a combat world.’
‘No way. Not ever?’
I shake my head. ‘Sorry.’
‘You had some good ideas, and maybe that is why. You’re not trying to recreate the same old scenarios from Zombie Wars or Last Combat.’
‘But I can’t fight.’
‘This isn’t about slogging it out in a punch-up, and it isn’t real. It’s about strategy and outthinking their manoeuvres. Think of it like a chess game, and you’ll be fine.’
The tower door is locked with a padlock. ‘Damn. I’m rubbish at hacking physical locks,’ she says, and looks at me with an eyebrow raised.
I shake my head. ‘I’m no Hacker.’ Then I look at it more closely – damaged and rusty. ‘But I’m good at breaking things.’
I find a rock and smash it into the lock. No dice. I do it again and then again, and it falls to the ground.
She grins. ‘Knew I brought you for a reason.’
I open the door; we peer in. It’s dark, musty. We sneeze.
‘A simul-sneeze,’ she says. ‘Nice bonding moment. Come on.’ We go in, she pulls the door shut. ‘Wait a sec while I set a charge. If they try to come up here, the door will blow.’
Nice touch.
We find the stairs, and I go first, slow and tentative. The stairs are wooden, uneven, some missing. Half rotten. ‘Be careful, they’re rubbish,’ I say, and hang onto the handrail.
Halfway up the next flight a step gives way under my foot. I grasp for the rail but it breaks, and I start to fall, foot slipping through the broken step. There is a sharp pain in my calf, and I almost scream.
I scramble, pull myself back up.
‘All right?’ she calls from below.
‘A step is missing, and I’ve hurt my leg. Be careful.’
One more level and I’m at the top. The clock is dislodged, hanging at an angle. The space is flooded with light.
I stagger, sit down. There is pain: something warm and red running down my leg.
Sparky catches up. She curses when she sees what I’ve done to my calf. ‘That’s too much blood.’ She rips a strip off her tunic and ties it around my leg. ‘Blood’ll be onto us now.’
‘Blood? You mean the Hacker?’
‘He can smell the stuff. He’ll follow it right to us, I bet.’
She peers out the tower. ‘Got one thing right: there’s a perfect view of the bridge. I hope they separate and we can knock off a few of them before he finds us.’
My vision is fuzzy, and it’s all I can do to not reach out to unplug back in the PIP.
‘Why does it hurt so much? This is virtual! It’s not supposed to hurt, is it?’
‘Depends on the world. In most of them when you get killed you don’t really even feel it. You bounce back to your hallway, can go straight back in to try again. But I’ve heard some of the eighteen-plus ones are more real. You feel pain like real pain. This must be like that.’
‘So if they kill us, it’ll be like we’re really dying.’
‘I guess.’
‘This is a sick and twisted version of fun.’
‘Just gives you more reason to want to win.’
I’m focusing on her words, struggling not to unplug. Double awareness, double pain.
Double pain? Back in the PIP, careful not to disturb the neural connection, I reach a hand down my leg. Warm. Wet. Pain. My leg is bleeding, in the PIP? This makes no sense.
My head is spinning. My leg isn’t tied up to slow the blood loss in the PIP. It’s bleeding there too?
‘Company below,’ Sparky says, voice low. ‘Approaching now: Blood and one other. Here’s hoping the charge—’
Boom!
‘Damn. Blood is OK. Got the other one, though, that’s one for us. Blood looks unhurt, but really, really pissed off. He’s gone through the door. The others are still heading for the bridge.’ There’s a creak below.
We exchange a look. ‘How near are they to the bridge?’
‘Not near enough; a few minutes from it still. Thank heavens there’s no Implant communications, or he’d call them here. There’s two of us and one of him, right?’
‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper.
‘Not your fault. Could have been my leg, not yours. But is there anything you can do to slow him down? The others are nearing the bridge. I need them to get there before Blood gets up here.’
‘Right.’
I stand up, swaying on my feet, and look around for weapons. A piece of wood?
I grasp it and stagger down the steps. Will myself to move quietly, and hide round the top of the stairs. I should be out of sight here.
Slow careful movements sound below me, and I feel sick. I could vomit on him; that might gross him out enough to make him run away. It’s hot, I know it is, but I’m cold, bone cold, and clammy.
Hands gripped tight to wood.
Step. Creak, below.
I can do this, can’t I? It’s just timing and luck.
Another step. He’s nearly here—
I jump around and swing the piece of wood.
But I have no timing, and no luck. He catches it easily in one hand, then throws it down the stairs and laughs.
‘What have we here?’ he says.
I shrug. I need to delay him. ‘Just me.’
He has a knife in one hand, a smile on his face. ‘It’s the blood that called me to you, you see. I love it: the smell, the feel, the taste. Only in VeeDubs, don’t look so shocked. I’m not a monster, just a gamer.’ He hefts the knife in his other hand. ‘But why are you up here?’
‘Hiding.’
He shakes his head. ‘So predictable. But it’s a rubbish place to hide. No exit. No way to escape.’ He comes closer. ‘And you: you’re half dead already. Not so much fun. Still. I’ll have to make do, somehow.’
I wish I wasn’t here. I wish I was anywhere else. I wish none of this existed, especially not his eyes, his knife, a knife that is closer now. I’m too weak from blood loss, from fear. There is nothing left to resist the knife. I think of unplugging but even that is too difficult, too remote. My body back in the PIP can’t move any more than this one can.
The blade touches my skin. Not at my neck. Nothing quick. It caresses my arm, flat at first, then it bites. More red wells up on skin: beads; a trickle. Pain, but remote, as if I’m pulling away from it. And then—
Things happen. All at once.
There is a massive explosion. Not here, no – the bridge?
Fury on Blood’s face as he turns away, turns to the sound.
But most of all there is silver, a rush of beautiful, glorious silver. And a door. I fall through the door, and into the void.
34
I’m warm now. The void holds me close, the lights whistle past. The wind buffets my hair, my body, as if saying wake up, but I want to sleep.
Why am I so sleepy?
I try to focus, but all I can see are beads. Silver beads, with swirls of intricate carving. Floating in the void like spots in front of my eyes. I blink, but they’re still there.
Warm. Sleepy…
Wet. Blood, is that it? Draining life away.
/>
Stop. Stop the blood. Please…
Silver from the void gathers all around me, then on my leg and arm. It feels warm.
Time passes. I don’t know how long, but slowly, gradually, things stop swirling. I come back to myself.
I sit up.
Something glints next to me, and I frown. A knife. Blood’s knife? It’s smeared with dark red. Is that my blood from when he cut my arm? Both my arm and leg are whole now, but there is a sheen of silver on my skin.
Was it escape code that brought me here – does this mean I died in the game?
I shake my head. If that happened, I should have gone straight to the virtual meeting place. I think I was close to dying. But I didn’t die.
How did I get here? And apart from how, that was a VeeDub game world. It might have been programmed to hurt when you get hurt, but it was still virtual. As soon as I left it, I should have been all right.
But I wasn’t, was I?
Back in the PIP, I reach to check my leg like I did before. It’s not bleeding; there is no wound.
Did I imagine that before?
What the hell is going on here?
Sparky. Is she all right? When I left, Blood was furious. The bridge had blown up. She was there, alone.
And Marina; the others.
I have to go back to that place, don’t I?
Silver coalesces in front of me. A sheet of it forms a door, a handle.
Blood’s knife is there on the ground. I could take it with me; it might be useful. Instead I pick it up and throw it as far as I can into the void.
A deep breath. I’m shaking; I want to run.
I reach out a hand, and open the door. I stand there, still in the void, door open, looking through.
It’s the tower, on the stairs. Just where I was when I left before.
I can’t see anyone.
If Blood…if he killed Sparky, he’d have left, wouldn’t he? She’d still be there. He wouldn’t be. I have to check.
I force myself through the door. It shuts and vanishes behind me.
There’s blood on the steps where I’d been lying before. I step over it and into the clock tower room. It’s dark now, night, but there is moonlight. No sign of Sparky, and I swell with relief. Step cautiously forwards and peer out into the night.
That’s when I see her.
A broken body on the ground far below.
I stare, look away, then look back again. She’s still there.
It’s like a chess game, she said. It’s not real, she said. It might have been different for me, because I’m different, right?
Panic is swelling up inside, and I start to shake.
This isn’t real. I chant the words over and over again as I force myself down the tower stairs. Every step I take, I repeat: This isn’t real.
Another step gives way but this time I spring back, don’t fall. It’s real enough that I nearly bled to death for stepping on a rotten step on the way up; I take more care.
Outside now, the air isn’t any better. It still smells foul.
I have to check, don’t I? I hesitate, walk over to Sparky, but don’t have to go much further. Even in moonlight she is very clearly dead. This isn’t real. It looks real, final, over. This isn’t real.
What now? Find Marina and the others. If they’re still alive. But how?
The next street loops down to the river. That is where she told them to go, and to set a lookout. But going by the light, that was hours ago. Would they still be waiting, or have they given up?
I creep down the street. Ducking down, hugging buildings, cars. My heart is thudding so loud I’m convinced if Blood is out here, he’ll hear it, that he’ll taste the fear thundering through my veins.
But I reach the end of the road. It’s a dead end by the river; the water is sick, foul. A mist rises from it like blood.
I stumble backwards.
‘Luna?’ A whisper.
I spin round.
‘Marina! Thank God.’
‘They thought I was mad for still waiting. Where’s Sparky?’
‘She’s…she’s…’ I shake my head.
‘OK. That’s only one of us gone; the rest of us are still together. The bridge blew – how many went with it?’
‘I don’t know, I couldn’t see. One of them died as Sparky booby-trapped the door, but then Blood came up the tower. And—’ I hesitate. ‘I tried to delay him. She’d said they were approaching the bridge, but I don’t know for sure if they made it.’
‘You got away from Blood? Impressed.’ She frowns. ‘So maybe no one was on the bridge, and she blew it while she still could instead of when they got on it.’
The night passes. We decide to stay on the same road until morning, but in two groups. Marina and I are together in a shed in a garden that is mostly intact. The other three hide over the road in a half-destroyed house. I’m exhausted; I need to sleep, desperately.
‘Don’t you get tired?’ I ask.
Marina looks at me curiously. ‘No. We’re hooked up and asleep back in the PIPs, remember? You don’t look so good.’
It’s not just exhaustion, it’s ANDs. They’re wearing off. Back in the PIP I wriggle around, careful to not break the neural connection. There are ANDs in my pocket. I reach down and find them, manage to chew some dry and swallow without moving my head too much. Slowly I start to feel less like vomiting on her. I close my eyes to see if I can sleep, but no: is it the waiting, the uncertainty? Or maybe it is just impossible to sleep when I’m half here, half with my body.
The sun starts to come up, but the sky is a dirty smudge.
‘Luna, what do you make of this?’ Marina is standing in the door, pointing to a cloud that seems to be almost oozing towards us.
I cough. The air is worse than before; there is an unpleasant, metallic smell. Familiar, yet what is it?
‘Blood. It’s blood!’ I say
Marina looks at me. ‘Run!’ We bolt out of the shed and through the house to the street; Marina throws a rock at the window where the others are hiding. ‘Run!’ she yells. They stumble out, see the cloud that is growing, starting to fill the sky, and run.
I glance back; it’s moving faster.
Did he wait until daylight so we could see his creation? It’s impressive. Different colours of blood: bright red, smudges of brown, like dried blood, fading to black.
It reaches one of the boys behind us first. He screams, drops to the ground.
Any thought of being quiet now gone, we run blindly up the road, and then we see him. Blood. He’s wearing a gas mask, a protective suit from head to toe. The cloud is gaining on us, faster than we can run.
Marina falls; I pull her up but she gasps with pain. A twisted ankle? ‘Go without me.’ She looks back. ‘It’s just us left now.’
‘No!’ I try to help her walk, but fingers of red are close, closer. Reaching for us, and then—
RRRRRing!
A bell?
The red cloud disappears. The world disappears.
35
Sparky and I are stretched out on towels on the beach, and not just any beach: it is seriously the most beautiful sandy cove I’ve even seen: our team prize for winning the combat world. Turns out the rest of Blood’s team died on the bridge, so there were two left on our team and only one on his when the time was up. Marina’s in the sea, doing the mermaid thing, and the others are surfing.
Sparky lifts herself up on her elbows. ‘You have to tell me. How’d you get away from Blood?’
‘Honest answer? No idea.’
She raises an eyebrow. ‘Hmmph. Strangely enough, that’s pretty much what he said. So keep your secrets, then.’
‘And you, how’d you end up over the side of the tower?’
She shrugs, sheepish. ‘You saw my body?’
I nod.
‘Not proud to say this, but I jumped. Blood came howling up the stairs for me, said you vanished and he was going to have all his fun with me. Jumping seemed like the best plan.’ She frowns. ‘Are you OK? You don’t look so good.’
‘Fine. Tired. And I know! I’m not supposed to be tired here.’
I reach out back in the PIP to have more ANDs. How long can I keep this up? I feel stretched. I close my eyes again, soaking the beautiful sunshine into my skin. I long for sleep, but somehow can’t with my body awake in the PIP. I long to unplug, but how can I with everybody watching?
There are footsteps. Echoing, like on a hard floor. I jump, sit up, and look around. Sparky has gone for a swim with the others. I’m alone, no one is nearby, and there is no hard floor for footsteps to sound on even if there were.
Then I hear a creak; a door.
It’s in the PIP.
I open my eyes to a slit. Dr Rafferty? He’s checking my life support screens. Whistling to himself, taking notes on a tablet. I will myself to be still. He starts to turn towards me and I close my eyes. A moment later there are more footsteps, the sounds of a door opening, shutting. I open my eyes. I’m alone in the PIP; I’m alone on the beach.
Everything is weird and wired.
Playtime over, Blood’s team eventually join us in the beach world. Now we’re instructed to combine what we love with what we fear. So Marina becomes a flying fish – well, sort of a mermaid, but with wings – soaring out of the water. First with fear, then joy.
Sparky is making a giant electrical monster – interesting.
Blood’s fear appears to be a giant soft toy teddy bear, but the teddy is also a vampire – kind of a Count Cuddles.
I play around with ideas – of fears, and loves – and all I can come up with is a giant spider with Jason’s face. Creepy-weird, but more funny than scary. And even with that I need Marina’s help to make it, since even if silver doors seem to appear magically to save me at awkward moments, I can’t code stuff. But I can’t focus on anything long enough to come up with a strong feeling one way or the other.
