“You have to come with us,” Lucas says. “It’s the only way we can find out anything more about this place.”
“They will kill you,” Rohan adds. “You don’t stand a chance without us.”
Myco looks at me and, for a moment, we lock eyes. Without a word, we nod in mutual agreement. We have no other choice.
“Let’s go,” I say, and the four of us dart across the warehouse and exit through a side door.
CHAPTER 8
“DON’T LOOK BACK!” Lucas shouts as we run through the forest.
For once, I listen. I keep Myco in front of me so I don’t lose sight of her. Whoever those people at the warehouse are, they don’t seem like a welcoming committee.
Rohan leads us toward the camp. Hopefully there’s still a crowd there so we can blend in. Myco and I won’t have a problem, but if those are the same people who killed Lucas and Rohan’s friend, we might have a problem with the boys. Rohan’s tall stature and nearly white hair would make it hard for him to disappear in a crowd.
Maybe it's best if me and Myco go off on our own. We don’t owe Lucas or Rohan anything. They came to us and brought their trouble right to our doorstep. At least with the information they offered us, Myco and I can start to investigate what’s going on. There's no way this “game” theory is right, but I have no other explanation for how we felt when we were forced to fight.
A shiver moves up my spine, but I brush off the feeling. Our feet thud as we charge through lush green vegetation.
The edge of the camp comes into view. We slow and look around to gather our bearings.
“We need to stick together,” Lucas says, breathing heavily. “If we separate, they can pick us off easier.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“We need to get to the beach,” Rohan says.
“Won’t we be easier to spot there?” Myco asks.
Like a watchtower, Rohan scans our surroundings. “We’re not sticking around long enough.”
“Okay, but none of this feels right,” I say.
Lucas nods and Rohan bursts into the camp like an elephant. None of the blank-faced people bother with us as we move past them.
Running through the camp proves much more difficult when we converge with the crowd. We slow to navigate through the many bodies hustling around from tent to tent while keeping each other in sight.
I bash my shoulder into a taller woman and cry out as I tumble to the ground. She doesn’t even flinch. Myco is at my side in an instant, helping me up. I glance at the person I bumped into. She doesn’t even bat an eyelash and keeps walking.
“I’m fine,” I say as Lucas comes to me and rests a hand on my shoulder. I brush myself off and meet his eyes. Once again, they’re warm and comforting. I hate that I notice. I don't want to trust him.
“Over here!” Rohan’s hulking frame turns and disappears behind a tent.
We take a sharp right down a narrow alley. I cringe as we approach the end. This is how our trouble started with Rohan and Lucas. What if our pursuers are at the other end waiting for us?
Thankfully, I’m wrong. Rohan leads us to the back of the tents where fewer people mill around or slow us down. He and Lucas know this camp better than me so, in that sense, I can trust him at least until we find safety.
“Oh no,” Lucas mutters under his breath, grabbing onto my arm. He swings me around until I’m facing him.
“What are you doing?”
Rohan stops mid-step, and Myco’s quick reflexes prevent her from running into him.
Lucas retreats and I press my hands into his muscular back. “They’re here.”
Myco is next to me. We find each other’s hands and squeeze. My lower lip trembles at the thought of what our fate could be. Rohan and Lucas flank us protectively.
As if they manifest from thin air, the black-clad people converge on us from all sides. I don’t understand how we couldn’t have heard them arrive. There are now so many more than there were outside the warehouse.
My earlier impression was correct. Each black-clad person almost shares the same face. It’s creepy as hell.
I look for help, but the few other avatars in the area walk by without a second look. No one wants to help us. We’re on our own. It will take a miracle to get us out of here alive.
Our pursuers stand at attention; Not one moves in closer. They stand at least three deep, enough of a barrier that even trying to escape is pointless. Their chiseled faces barely move. It’s like they refuse to waste energy on the basic gestures that make people human, if I can even call myself human. In their hands, each carry a device similar to the one that Lucas used to paralyze my legs. This isn’t going to end well.
A tingling sensation flutters in my core. I stare at their faces. While they lack expression, their eyes are alert and present, unlike the camp dwellers. I’m not sure which I prefer.
Movement from our left makes Lucas’ body stiffen. One of our captors breaks rank and steps forward. A low grumble from Rohan tells me that this isn’t the first time they’ve met this guy.
While this one, for the most part, looks the same as the rest, he carries himself a little differently. His chin is high, and his gait is slower, almost as if we’re the ones wasting his time.
He locks eyes with Lucas, and a slow, deliberate smirk touches his lips.
Lucas reaches for his device but, before he can pull it from his pocket, he crumbles to the ground. His device skids across the dirt, out of arm’s reach.
I drop down and shove my arms under his, trying to support his weight. “Get up!”
The guy in front of us cocks his head to the side, staring down at Lucas. His hand is in his pocket, and it doesn’t take more than one guess to figure out what he’s holding.
“It’s no use,” Lucas says quietly. He turns his wide-eyed gaze to me. He knows what’s going to happen.
Ice clings to my spine as fear builds inside. The one person who has some answers is about to be executed. Why had I screamed when we were in the warehouse? This is my fault, and Lucas is about to pay for it.
Myco stands nearly frozen, mouth open wide in shock. Rohan lunges forward, venom in his eyes.
“Don’t,” Lucas warns.
Lucas’ plea is enough to stop Rohan.
“We might as well go down fighting,” Rohan says.
“Wait,” Lucas orders.
Rohan groans.
“We are the Moderators,” the group choruses.
My blood turns glacial. Their voices are flat and monotone, seriously upping their creep factor.
“We have been following you for some time,” the lead Moderator says.
For a second, I think he’s talking to me. It would explain the feeling of someone watching me. But his eyes are on Lucas, as if he’s the only person that matters.
Rohan cracks his knuckles, reminding me of the guy I fought in the arena—determined and ready to cause some trouble. “Why didn’t you make yourself known?” he asks.
“For this, of course,” he says, indicating Myco and me.
I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
His gaze lifts to mine. “They led us to you.”
“Why are you doing this?” Lucas asks. He struggles to move, even though I know any attempt is futile.
“We cannot simply remove the sentient bug in the system,” the Moderator says. “Doing that would destroy the rich simulation provided for the players. The environment needs to be preserved to keep the authentic gaming elements intact. The simplest way is to hunt down the sentient problem and eliminate their programming one by one.”
The Moderator speaks about the game as Lucas had. Does that mean all of it is true? Lucas and Rohan’s explanation seemed so far-fetched but, with the Moderators blocking our escape, I’m finding the simulated game explanation easier to believe.
Lucas hangs his head. “Please, don’t do this. Let them go.”
The Moderator forces out a smile. His grin is awkward, like it’s plastered
on him. “Since it has taken you so long to find these two, I believe our search for the sentients is coming to an end.”
The Moderator rushes forward, his body a blur in front of us. Before I realize what’s going on, he’s in front of Lucas, pressing the device into his arm.
Lucas screams in pain. His head whips back and he grits his teeth. Then his arm begins to slowly disappear, fracturing into glowing segments.
Myco digs her head into my shoulder as Rohan rushes forward. I hesitate to help Lucas. This is all too impossible to believe, but I can’t just stand here.
Before I can move, a bright flash of light illuminates the sky. My eyes clamp shut for only a moment. When I open them, our surroundings are different.
The Moderators stare at us with the same blank look as the other people in the camp. But, instead of milling around, they stand still, as if frozen in place.
Lucas scoots away from the Moderator and, miraculously, his arm starts to rebuild, inch-by-inch. His skin binds as the pieces fuse back together.
“Become a Level 10 to advance to Salvation,” a female voice booms.
I whirl around, tripping over my feet as I try to locate her. Other than the statue-like Moderators, no one else is around.
“Let’s get out of here,” Myco pleads.
“Um, yeah.” I shove all thoughts of the voice to the back of my mind and focus on our current situation. Who knows when they’ll wake up from whatever the bright light did to them. We need to move.
With Lucas’ arm fully formed once again, Rohan helps him up. Lucas kicks his feet out, testing them.
“Are you all right?” I ask, scanning over his body.
He exhale’s sharply. “I think so.”
“Go,” Rohan orders.
I hesitate at Lucas’ side.
“I’m fine,” he insists, grabbing the shunt device from the ground. “We need to get out of here before they notice.”
We easily move past the Moderators. They drop to the ground like dead weight as we push through their circle.
“The beach,” Rohan says, jerking his chin forward.
We arrive at the beach quicker than I thought possible. My mind is distracted by everything that happened since Rohan and Lucas stopped us in that alley. I focus on the finer details of the beach: pristine white sand and the constant crashing of clear, blue water against the shore. This place is a paradise.
And completely manufactured.
I still can’t believe it.
“What just happened?” Myco’s eyes are wild. She pulls her hair out of the bun and black waves tumble over her shoulders.
“Did anyone hear a voice after the flash?” Lucas flexes his hand, the one that he almost lost.
“Yes,” I say. I loosen a tight breath, relieved that I’m not the only one who heard the voice.
Rohan nods as well.
“What, or who, was that?” I ask, my palms raised up.
“I have no idea,” Lucas says.
I shake my head. “I thought you two had all the answers.”
“Well, we don’t,” Rohan snaps.
I scan the forest, expecting the Moderators to appear at any moment. My heart, if that is what it is, pounds in my chest. Fear consumes my thoughts.
I pull Myco aside and whisper, “We need to get out of here.”
“That’s a good idea,” she says, then turns to the guys. “Where are we going now?”
I grab her arm and place a finger to my lips. All Rohan and Lucas did was put us in danger. “We’re safer on our own.”
Myco narrows her eyes. “They know more than we do.”
“And the Moderators are hunting them down.” I try to keep my voice down. Rohan and Lucas talk among themselves, too, probably coming up with some other dangerous scenario that will lead us toward something bad once again.
“I’m not splitting up,” Myco says. She draws her hair up into a bun again. It’s as if the movements calm her.
I smooth my hand over my hair. I have no intention of leaving Myco. Our connection is stronger after the warehouse. A part of me still feels responsible for what happened on her island, and I silently promise to protect her no matter what the cost.
I turn toward the guys, firm in my decision. I glance out at the ocean and see nothing but water, but staying here is no longer my choice.
“There’s a merchant island nearby,” Rohan says. “I’ve heard of a shop that deals with rare items. If there’s any way to hide from the Moderators, that shop would be our best bet.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Myco agrees.
Even though I’m not leaving Myco, I’m not happy about staying with Lucas and Rohan. Nothing good has come from meeting them.
“We should hurry,” Lucas says.
CHAPTER 9
WE RUN FOR, what feels like, at least an hour. I never expected this island to be so vast. Along the way, we don’t encounter any other avatars or Moderators. The red orb’s strength never tires. My energy doesn’t waver for even one second. Myco struggles to keep pace with us, however. Clearly the boys have been upgraded as well, as they dart ahead with little to no effort.
As the edge of the island takes shape ahead of us, my legs pump harder.
“Over there!” Lucas calls, pointing toward the water.
I don’t see anything. “Where?”
“Straight ahead, you can’t miss it,” Rohan says.
I shoot him a look, then squint in the direction they’re indicating. In the far distance is a barely visible mass of land. Haze softens the coastline’s edges far off on the horizon.
I glance at Myco. There’s no way we can make it. We exhausted ourselves in the swim over to this island, and that land point appears twice as far. “You expect us to swim out there?”
“No,” Lucas says. “We have to take a Shift Silo.”
“A what silo?” Myco asks, her voice trembling.
Being inside a silo means we’re trapped, or worse, we’ve been killed and reborn. I wasn’t ready for that.
Rohan walks away from us. “A Shift Silo. A different kind of silo.”
“Explain,” I demand.
“They’re for transport,” Lucas says, slowing his walk until he’s next to me. “There are spawning silos for avatars, but all of the bigger islands have transport silos as well.”
I’m learning to go with the flow when it comes to all the new language and devices. Lucas is much easier to talk to than Rohan; he explains instead of demands.
We jog toward the harbor dock where six smaller silos are stationed close to the water. I chew on my lip and glance at Myco. She’s pacing with her arms folded, clearly hesitant as well. I know her reason is a little different, but I’m starting to trust Lucas and Rohan a bit, even though my body screams to run the other way. I can’t leave Myco. It's not even an option.
I don’t want to hide from the Moderators for the rest of my life—or existence. They’ve identified us as sentient, so there’s no way they’ll just leave us alone.
As we approach the dock, people move into the silos and others come out. Some of them even seem to have life in their eyes. Player controlled, I assume. Using these silos appears to be nothing major to them.
I’m unsure how I’m supposed to feel. I doubt Lucas would lead us into a trap. He could have done whatever he wanted to us in that warehouse.
“We have company,” Rohan growls.
I glance in the direction of the forest. My heart seizes. A group of Moderators approach in the distance. They appear to float across the sand, gaining on us quicker than I expected.
“Come on,” Lucas says. He and Rohan race toward one of the silos.
Blood courses through my veins as we run. Myco’s mouth is a thin line. Lucas and Rohan stop at one of the silos and shove first Myco and then me inside before they enter.
Myco wrings her hands in front of her. “What are we going to do?”
The only item inside the silo is a small display screen. There are no controls for anything.
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Rohan shoves the door closed as Lucas piles in and says, “Enter ‘MERCH01’ into the display.”
The screen wakes to life as I approach. A keyboard fills the display. I press my finger against the smooth surface and attempt to enter the code. I mess up a few times as my nerves get the best of me.
“Move aside,” Rohan snarls.
“I’ve got it.” I steady my shaking fingers and slowly type in the correct sequence.
I turn to see Lucas and Rohan peering out of a small hatch window in the door. I glance around the silo. It’s much sleeker than the spawning one I woke in. The walls are a light gray color and smooth to the touch.
Outside, the Moderators are close, almost too close. My body flushes with heat.
“I don’t know about this,” I say, anxious to leave this place and those creepy Moderators behind. Myco clutches my arm, a bit too tight.
The silo hums as if it’s powering up. A digital whooshing sound is barely audible over the roaring heartbeat in my ears.
The Moderators are right outside the silo. Why is nothing happening? Is this silo broken?
Lucas whirls to face me. “You have to press ‘ENTER.’”
“Well, you didn’t say that!” I snap.
Rohan pushes past me and hammers the button. The silo brightens all around us.
“They’re still coming,” Myco whispers. She releases me and moves against the wall farthest from the hatch.
As soon as the words leave her mouth, a tingling sensation starts in my middle and quickly spreads throughout my entire body. The sensation shifts to a searing hot heat, as if an electrical current moves through me. The intensity burns hotter in my hands, and I lift them to my face. My fingers start to fracture into smaller pieces. My eyes widen. I try to cry out. But, as my body fragments into tiny, digitized, hexagonal shapes, an indescribable force draws the air from my lungs. An overwhelming pulling sensation breaks me apart until the silo disappears into nothing.
A bright light fills the silo and, for a moment, I’m suspended in the air. I’m everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Heat pulses through my existence.
Avatars Rising: SILOS I Page 6
