by Dustin Brady
Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgements
CHAPTER ONE Boogers and Blasters
CHAPTER TWO Humanity's Only Hope
CHAPTER THREE Blast Blast Squawk!
CHAPTER FOUR Reality Mode
CHAPTER FIVE Jetpack Joyride
CHAPTER SIX Boss Battle
CHAPTER SEVEN Mark Day
CHAPTER EIGHT Lady Liberty
CHAPTER NINE Bye Bye
CHAPTER TEN Captain Eric
CHAPTER ELEVEN Speed Run
CHAPTER TWELVE Source Code
CHAPTER THIRTEEN The Hindenburg Protocol
CHAPTER FOURTEEN High Noon
CHAPTER FIFTEEN The Only Way
CHAPTER SIXTEEN Back for More
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Final Battle
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Mr. Gregory
CHAPTER NINETEEN Are You Sure?
Sneak Peek
Thank You
Other Books by Dustin Brady
About the Author
Trapped in a Video Game: Book One
Dustin Brady
Copyright © 2016 Dustin Brady
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1534901493
ISBN-13: 978-1534901490
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to Jesse Brady for the cover and interior illustrations. You can check out more of Jesse’s sweet artwork on Instagram: @jessnetic.
CHAPTER ONE
Boogers and Blasters
Jesse. Come over. Now. You're not going to believe this.
That was the text that ruined my life.
I know I know, that doesn’t sound like a life ruiner. Especially because the text’s sender, my friend Eric, says “you’re not going to believe this” about the world’s most believable things. Just in the last month, he’s told me that I wouldn’t believe a piece of toast that looked “exactly like Darth Vader” (it looked exactly like a burnt piece of toast), a sweet trick he learned on his bike (riding for literally one half of one second without holding onto the handlebars) and a really big booger (that one actually was pretty impressive).
I ignored the text for a little bit, because nothing makes Eric talk faster than silence. When he didn’t write back after five minutes, I finally replied.
What is it?
No response.
You gonna tell me or what?
Nothing.
This better not be another booger.
Nope.
Five more minutes went by. I sighed. Fine, Eric was going to win this one. But only because looking at his dumb booger would be more fun than this math homework. I closed my book, put on my jacket and walked across the street to Eric’s house.
The door was open, so I let myself in and walked down to the basement. “All right, let’s see it,” I said as I reached the bottom of the stairs.
No booger. Also no Eric.
“Come on,” I called out. I wandered into the laundry room (where the dirty clothes should be). I walked upstairs into Eric’s room (where the dirty clothes actually were). I checked behind all the doors, inside all the closets and under all the beds. No booger. No Eric.
I couldn’t believe it.
Ever since Eric’s family moved into the house across the street from mine in first grade, his favorite activity has been playing practical jokes on me. I appreciate a good practical joke as much as the next guy; unfortunately, none of Eric’s practical jokes are good. Because he’s so impatient, he ruins every joke before it even begins. I don’t know how many sleepovers I’ve been to where Eric has attempted to dip a sleeping friend’s finger in warm water, only to have the water dumped over his head by the “victim” who’d had his eyes closed for less than 30 seconds.
So on one hand, I had to admire Eric’s commitment to this particular joke. On the other, it may have been his dumbest yet.
Back in the basement, I decided that I’d had enough. “OK!” I yelled to an empty house. “I’m going back home now! I have to finish the math homework due Monday! Maybe you should do the same!”
More silence. I looked around. The only sign of life anywhere was a video game paused on the TV in the corner. Eric loved his video games. Especially the one on the screen right now — Full Blast. Never heard of Full Blast? That’s because it’s not out yet. Eric got it two weeks ago from Charlie, the coolest kid in our class. To clarify — Charlie isn’t the coolest kid in sixth grade because he’s actually a cool kid. He’s the coolest because his dad works for a video game company and sometimes gives Charlie’s friends early copies of games to test.
For the last two weeks, Eric’s mouth has been going full blast about Full Blast.
“Jesse, I’m telling you. It is the greatest video game ever made!”
“I don’t care.”
“All these aliens are trying to take over the world, and you’re the only person alive who can save everyone, because…”
“I don’t care.”
“Because you found one of their blasters, and once you charge it to FULL BLAST you can…”
“I DON’T CARE!”
“You can start shooting…”
Eric never stopped trying to get me to watch him play his new game. I never went because I would rather get sprayed in the face with a fire hose full blast than watch someone else play video games. I don’t hate video games — I’m sure they’re fine. I’ve just never really had time to sit down and play them.
I walked toward the TV. I’d never heard Eric rant about a game like he ranted about this one. Maybe I should give it a chance. At the very least, it would probably beat math homework. I picked up the controller and looked at the screen.
ARE YOU SURE?
- YES
- NO
I paused for a second. Should I? What if I erased Eric’s saved game? Nah, he wouldn’t mind. He’d just be happy I was trying a video game. I clicked YES.
The instant I did everything went black. Not everything on the screen. Everything in the room.
CHAPTER TWO
Humanity's Only Hope
You know that feeling you get when you’re drinking milk while skydiving and your skydiving buddy tells a funny joke, so you laugh the milk out of your nose and then you throw up at the same time? No? That’s not an experience that everyone has? Well anyways, that’s exactly how I felt after clicking “YES.”
Like I said, everything went black the second I pressed the button. I panicked and felt around for some sort of “undo.” One problem — the controller was no longer in my hands. I reached back for the couch. That caused me to lose my balance and start falling into the blackness. As I fell faster, my insides started feeling like they wanted to be outsides, and then I think I barfed, and then I thought, “video games are the worst,” and then I blacked out.
When I finally opened my eyes again, I was staring at the sun — which is funny, because if there’s one thing that is definitely not in Eric’s basement, it’s the sun. I felt the ground. Dirt. OK, super weird. I closed my eyes to get my bearings, and then I opened them again to see two angry eyes, two inches away, staring back.
“AHHHHHHHH!”
“NAP TIME’S OVER, MAGGOT!”
The two eyes were attached to a snarling drill sergeant who seemed just like the most furious person ever. I tried backing away.
“Look, I don’t… This is a big… OK, listen, if you just call my mom…”
The drill sergeant did not seem interested in clearing things up with Mrs. Rigsby. Instead, he picked me up by the neck just like a bully on TV would.
“Listen maggot, I don’t know how you got that blaster attached to your arm, but it’s there now, and we’re g
oing to use it to…”
The what attached to my what? I looked down. A blaster. Attached to my arm. Where my left hand should be.
“AHHHHHHHHHH!”
My screaming did nothing to stop the drill sergeant from continuing his little speech.
“…Blast the alien scum back to whatever rock they came from. You are humanity’s only hope for…”
“AHHHHHHHHHH!”
“…This planet. Your mission will be long, your mission will be difficult, your mission will probably be deadly. But you…”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
I continued screaming through the rest of the speech. After a few more minutes of talking about how I was probably going to die, the sergeant let me go. I sat on the ground, hyperventilating and trying to tear the blaster from my arm.
Over my breathing, I heard the sergeant start talking again. “…to walk around.”
I looked up at him. “What was that?”
He stared angrily for a few seconds before repeating himself. “Move the C-stick to walk around.”
I blinked a couple of times. “Listen, I don’t know what this is supposed to be, but you’ve got to help me.”
He stared back. I took a few steps closer.
“I’m not supposed to be…”
“Good. Now press ‘A’ to jump.”
I squinted at him. “Are you even listening to me?”
He didn’t react.
“OK, my name is Jesse Rigsby. I am in the sixth grade. I am not some sort of alien slayer. I don’t even believe in aliens, if we’re being honest. Can you please just help me get this thing off my arm so I can go home and finish my homework? Please?”
“Press ‘A’ to jump.”
“No! I don’t want to jump!”
“Press ‘A’ to jump.”
“This is a video game thing, right? Like virtual reality? Some sort of headset?”
I reached up to tear the headset off. Instead I bonked myself with the very real blaster stuck to my very real arm.
“Press ‘A’ to jump.”
“OK, Eric. Eric Conrad. Hyperactive kid about yay high. He’s the one who brought me here. You’ve seen him, right?”
“Press ‘A’ to…”
“FINE!” I jumped. “Happy now?”
“Well done. Now it’s time to blast some aliens. Follow me.”
“No, it is certainly not time to blast some aliens!” I yelled after the drill sergeant. ”It’s time to get back to math homework! Fractions! I’M SUPPOSED TO BE MULTIPLYING FRACTIONS!”
As usual, he ignored me. I finally huffed and followed him. What else could I do? He led me through an empty military base, past rows of barracks, to some sort of firing range. He picked up a gun of his own, opened a gate for me and led me into a stall. Ten yards in front of me stood a cardboard cutout of a man-sized praying mantis.
“This is where you’ll learn how to use your blaster.”
“I very much don’t want to use my blaster.”
“Press ‘B’ to fire.”
“OK, that’s another thing. You keep telling me to press all these buttons, but what am I supposed to do if I don’t have a controller? I did have a controller, but it disappeared when I fell into your weird alien place! So now what?”
“Press ‘B’ to fire.”
“YOU ARE THE LEAST HELPFUL PERSON EVER!”
“Press ‘B’ to fire. Like this.” He held up his rifle and shot the cardboard cutout. His gun made a little “pew” sound and a tiny hole appeared in the cardboard. It looked like he had shot it with a pellet gun.
“Fine,” I said as I felt around my gun for a button or trigger. Nothing. “There’s no ‘B’ button! Are you happy now? Can you take this…” At that moment, I squeezed my left hand (or where my left hand should be) and the blaster on my hand FIRED A GLOWING WHITE BALL! The white ball hit the cardboard and instantly vaporized it.
“WHAT WAS THAT?!”
“Very good. You might save us all yet.”
Just then, a much larger, much scarier praying mantis cardboard popped up.
“Now hold ‘B’ to charge your blaster. When it gets to full blast…”
“THIS IS FULL BLAST? I’M INSIDE OF FULL BLAST?!”
Of course, Sergeant Sandpants wouldn’t answer me. He just kept yapping away about charging and blasting and then other weapons that “you will discover along your journey.” I attempted to leave at one point, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to climb out of the firing range stall.
After a half hour, I vaporized a row of cardboard praying mantises with a machine gun and the sergeant deemed me ready to “defeat the alien scum.”
“Oh nononono,” I said. “Just point me to Eric Conrad, please.”
A glowing vortex appeared behind me.
“You’re being dispatched to the alien outpost in the Rocky Mountains.”
“Nonononono…”
“Godspeed, soldier. Godspeed.”
The vortex got bigger.
“NONONONONONONO!”
I tried running away, but it was too late. I got sucked in. WHOOOOOOOOOOOSH! Everything disappeared again. More skydiving milk snorting. Finally, the falling stopped. I kept my eyes closed for a second longer, praying that I’d open them to find myself back in Eric’s basement. Bad news: no basement. Worse news: lots of snow. Worst news: a praying mantis the size of a tank was charging at me.
CHAPTER THREE
Blast Blast Squawk!
I did the thing you’re supposed to do when a man-eating praying mantis starts charging at you. I screamed like a girl.
“AHHHHHHH!”
The praying mantis did not slow down. I tried adding running to the mix.
“AHHHH…” Thud. “AHHHH…” Thud. “AHHHH…” Thud.
Running over snow-covered rocks with a blaster strapped to your arm is harder than it looks. With the creature almost on top of me, I pulled out my last trick: screaming while curling into a tiny ball. But even that didn’t work because the stupid blaster kept getting in the…
Oh. Wait. The blaster.
At the last second, I closed my eyes, reached up and squeezed my left hand. The blaster recoiled, and I heard a shriek. I opened my eyes to see the praying mantis disappear into a ball of light.
Wow. I almost died. Inside of a video game. I imagined the funeral. “Here lies Jesse Rigsby of Middlefield, Ohio. He was tragically taken from us by a giant praying mantis while trying to save a video game world from fake aliens. He bravely led the resistance, which lasted for all of 10 seconds.”
I looked around me. Snow and boulders everywhere, with a path leading deeper into the mountains ahead of me. No thanks. I turned and started walking back to find a way out of this mess. I got exactly five steps before…
CLUNK
I hit something and fell backward into the snow. Confused, I picked myself up and tried again.
CLUNK
I got up and inspected the spot further. It was open air, no different from anything else around me. I tried to put my fist through it.
CLUNK
Owwwwww! I punched an invisible brick wall. I shook my hand, then tried blasting it. Nothing. Maybe full blast? I charged the blaster and shot the invisible wall from two feet away. The ball of light absorbed into the wall and disappeared. I sighed, put my hand against the wall and started walking to find an opening.
After five minutes of walking along an invisible wall in the Rocky Mountains (not exactly an activity I thought I’d be doing when I woke up), I heard a noise to my left.
Clickclickclick.
I slowly turned. Through several pine trees, I could see two praying mantises scuttling back and forth, guarding the main path. Gulp. I slowed down and crept quieter to keep from alerting the…
CLUNK
The invisible wall had jutted in with no warning, and I clunked my head against it. One of the creatures turned. I stayed very still, because maybe praying mantis aliens are like T-Rexes, wher
e they can only see things that move.
SQUAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWK!
Nope! Bad theory. Bad, bad, bad theory. The creature that had heard me was now standing on its back legs and making a creepy squawking noise, while the other one charged.
I ran as fast as my little legs would take me. While climbing over boulders and dodging trees, I kept reaching back and wildly blasting at my attackers.
Blast-blast-blast-SQUAWK!
Blast-blast-blast-SQUAWK!
It may not surprise you to learn that the creatures with six nimble insect legs were quickly gaining on the off-balance person who did not post a mile time to be proud of in gym class the previous week.
Blast-blast-blast-SQUAWK!
Blast-blast-blast-SHRIEEEEEEEEEEEK!
Got one! Unfortunately, I had no time to celebrate because the mantis I had vaporized was replaced with another one who’d heard his battle cry. And then another.
I found the path and continued running and blasting wildly behind me, really wishing I’d brought my inhaler. But who brings an inhaler to a video game? I blamed Eric. He should have texted, “Come over. You’re not going to believe this. Maybe bring your inhaler.” Or perhaps, “Come over UNLESS YOU DON’T WANT TO GET CHASED BY MAN-EATING ALIENS THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS.” You know, just to give me a choice.
As I ran and blasted, the terrain on either side of the path grew higher and higher until I found myself running through the bottom of a canyon. Praying mantises were now jumping into the canyon behind me, joining their brothers in a stampede of death. Suddenly, the canyon opened up into a big bowl with 50-foot walls. A dead end.
I ran to the end, turned around and started blasting. By this time, I was getting better at picking them off, but it was too late. For every alien I vaporized, three more would pour through the canyon opening. The horde got closer and closer. Thirty yards away. Then 20. Then just 15 feet. I continued shooting while closing my eyes, preparing to meet my end.
Then a chorus of shrieks. I opened my eyes to see the blinding light of five aliens getting vaporized at once. Before I could figure out what was happening, the wave behind them also disappeared.
