New Reality: Truth

by Michael Robertson

  Wobbling under the force of nature, Tom imitated the gruff American voice selling the product that would change their world forever. He sounded like a voiceover for a Hollywood action movie trailer. "Five dimensions is the future of entertainment. Now you can taste, touch, and smell what you're seeing and hearing. Rixon will give you the experience of your life. If you can think it, you can live it." Shaking his head, he snorted a laugh. "It seemed so bizarre, like something you'd see in a movie. I never thought entertainment would be able to respond to your subconscious and give you everything you desired."

  The bruise on Jake's shin throbbed as he set off again. Tom would follow. Two pairs of eyes were better than one, and Tom, more than anything, was driven by the need to find his son.

  ***

  Watching Jake walk away, she then looked at his temperamental friend. Why did Jake even put up with him? All he did was drag him down with his depressing quest to find his son. There was so much out there for Jake if only he could cast his friend aside.

  No time had passed since she'd started watching the pair, but she already knew her wishes were pointless. Loyal to a fault, Jake would keep Tom around regardless of the damage to himself.

  Looking around at her brothers and sisters, all of them driven by a similar purpose to her, all of them staring with obsessive intent, she let the tension slide from her shoulders. She couldn't control the situation. The only power she had was of intervention, and it was far too early for that.

  Chapter Four

  After running his tongue around his frothy mouth, Jake swallowed his stale saliva. It did nothing to clear the gritty lump nestling in his throat and tasted like he'd fallen asleep halfway through eating a biscuit. Finding just enough liquid to survive, most of it being sugary drinks of one sort or another, meant the bilious blockage never cleared, no matter how many times he swallowed.

  Looking down, he instantly forgot his discomfort and lifted his glasses. "Oh, my." Dropping into a hunch, both of his kneecaps popped. Holding out a weak arm, he reached across, fearful that his hand would pass through the mirage.

  However, when he touched the plastic wrapping, it crunched like plastic should. When he tried to lift the object, it was heavy like he'd have expected. Wobbling it on the floor, he watched the liquid swill around in the six large bottles. Jumping up so quickly his head spun, he looked over at his friend. "Tom! Over here!"

  The tall man was about twenty meters behind, still sulking about the incident with Jake and the dead gamer. It would have been nice to have him by his side, like they had been for the past few years, but anything was better than losing sight of him. If they ever got separated... Grabbing his chest, Jake focused on his breath to combat his constricting lungs. It didn't bear thinking about. He turned his attention back to the bottles of water.

  "Tom! I'm being serious, man. You've got to see this."

  Stopping again, Tom looked up but didn't say anything. He then dipped his head into the wind and continued his slow march.

  "I've found water, Tom!"

  Tom snapped his head up.

  "There's water here!"

  Despite the distance and the dust, Jake could see the mistrust in Tom's hunched body. Jake wouldn't want to believe it either. Dropping back down, he dug a bony finger into the plastic wrapping. Initially, he didn't know which would give first, his weak finger or the plastic, but he finally burst through the cellophane. Grabbing the neck of one of the bottles, he wobbled it to get it out, the containers creaking as they rubbed against one another.

  Once it was free from the other five, he held it up in the air. The weight of the large bottle made his arm shake. An unopened two-liter container. "Look, Tom. Water!"

  Watching Tom's eyes widen and his mouth fall loose, Jake stood, smiling as his friend trebled his pace.

  When he caught up, Jake handed it to him. "Can you believe it? It feels like weeks since we've had any."

  "That's because it has been. Two to be precise." After twisting the lid free, Tom added, "Since we've had water anyway."

  With shaking hands, Jake pulled another bottle from the pack. The adrenaline rushing through him made removing the lid difficult. Taking deep breaths, he tried to calm down.

  Finally, the lid came free and slipped from Jake's grip. The wind caught it, and it fell away from him, skipping over the rugged landscape like a flat stone over still water. Shrugging, Jake lifted the bottle to his lips and a couple of trickles of the cool liquid slid across his chin, down his neck, and under his collar. Jake shuddered as it ran a cold line down his chest.

  The fresh water spread through his mouth, hydrating every crevice. His body was so thirsty, the first mouthful was gone before it reached his sticky throat.

  Just as Jake upended the bottle for a second swig, Tom said, "Stop!"

  Looking first into the upturned bottle and then lowering it, Jake licked his cracked, wet lips. "Why?"

  "If you drink too fast, you'll give yourself a bad stomach."

  "If I don't drink fast, I'll die."

  "Don't be dramatic, Jake. You won't die, we've only been a day without liquid."

  "But Coke hardly counts."

  "It's had to."

  Taking a small sip, Jake swallowed and threw his friend a facetious grin. "Better?"

  Sneering, Tom shook his head and looked down at their prize. "Why are the bottles here?"

  "Not this again."

  Tom looked back at Jake. "Come on, don't tell me you think this is a coincidence." Glancing at the tower, he continued, "They're watching us. They've put this here for a reason."

  A tingling sensation gripped Jake's back as if he could feel the surveillance they were under. Why did Tom always have to remind him that they were being watched? "Maybe they want us to have a drink."

  "No, it's more than that. They don't give anything without taking something away." His eyes narrowed. "This is all a part of their sick game."

  "Or maybe they just want to give us a drink?" Despite trying to assert his opinion, Jake could hear the ring of uncertainty in his own voice.

  "You know there's more to it than that, Jake. You know as much as I do that they like to fuck with us."

  Jake took another swig. "Well, whatever the reason, we should enjoy it while it lasts." Just before Tom could reply, Jake added, "Besides, if they want everyone dead so they can rebuild, why did they take all of the gamers out of the buildings before they leveled the city?"

  Tom lifted his shoulders in a high shrug. "Dunno. Maybe the headsets are too valuable to destroy."

  "Then why don't they just rip them off? We already know what that does." Jake snapped his hand over his mouth.

  Glaring at Jake, Tom paused for a few seconds before clearing his throat. Desperation turned his voice reedy. "There has to be a way to remove the headsets without killing the gamers."

  "Of course," Jake agreed. "Totally. I'm sure there's a way." The lie heated his face, and he hoped Tom didn't notice. After all, they had to try and get a headset off Rory. "But my point still stands. If they want the gamers to die, why do they keep them alive? It doesn't make sense."

  "Conscience maybe?" Tom shrugged again. "Maybe they think letting the gamers die without their direct interference means they didn't do it. That would allow them to rebuild without guilt. It's amazing what lies people tell themselves to get through the day."

  Watching his wide-eyed friend scan their surroundings sent jitters through Jake. "Your paranoia's getting to me."

  "It'll do you good. You need to be more alert."

  Raising an eyebrow, Jake laughed. "I think you're alert enough for the both of us." He then lifted the bottle to his lips again, more careful not to spill any this time and awaited Tom's retort. That was when he heard it; a deep creaking like an old ship that was about to tear in half. It was so loud it shook the ground beneath them. When he looked at Tom, his pulse flipped into overdrive. His tall friend was staring back in the direction they'd just come from.

  When Tom looked back at
him, his grey eyes wild, his body shaking, Jake said, "What the fuck was that?"

  ***

  As she watched, she ran her tongue across her teeth to liberate some of the fleshy fibers stuck between them. They'd finished their feast. The food had run out quickly. The pair best start running.

  Chapter Five

  Looking down at the four unopened bottles of water on the floor, Jake looked back up at the departing Tom. "What are you doing, man? We can't leave this here."

  Without breaking stride or turning around, Tom shouted, "We've got to go. Come on!"

  "Tom!"

  A scuttling sound like rushing water was gaining on them. This was more than a landslide, it sounded like an approaching army. Jake looked down at the bottles again.

  Swallowing another mouthful of water, the stale phlegm on the back of his throat all but disappearing, Jake looked in the direction they'd come from. When he saw the cloud of dust in the distance, this time kicking up from the ground rather than riding the wind, goose bumps spread over his body. Running a hand through his hair, he tapped at his half-drunk bottle. Looking across at Tom, he saw he wasn't slowing down.

  Bouncing on the spot, Jake looked at the loose cellophane around the four remaining bottles. It flapped in the wind.

  The dust cloud was getting closer. "Fuck it." Dropping the bottle in his hand, water spurting from the open top when it hit the ground, Jake watched the precious fluid soak into a breezeblock. The waste tore at his heart, but what could he do? Picking up a sealed bottle--one being all he could carry comfortably--Jake set off after his friend. "Tom, wait up, man!"

  Whether Tom heard him or not was unclear. What was perfectly clear was that he wasn't stopping. Focusing all of his attention on Tom's long back, Jake gave chase. After only two steps, the bruise on his shin ached and the recently consumed water swilled in his empty stomach.

  Dragging shallow breaths into his tight lungs, Jake released a series of burps without slowing his pace.

  When he caught up with Tom, he vomited a shot of the tasteless water into his mouth. Swallowing the warm liquid back down again, he spoke between breaths. "What ... did you ... see coming out of the ... crater?"

  Although Tom looked across, his sharp grey eyes clearer than they had been in weeks, he didn't reply.

  "Just tell me what you saw, man."

  "What are you talking about, Jake?"

  "Come on, you saw something."

  Tom frowned. "I didn't see anything." Dropping his head, he picked up his pace.

  Grabbing Tom's skinny shoulder, Jake spun him around. "Wait!"

  Although Tom stopped, his attention was behind them. "Why are you stopping me?"

  "If there's nothing following us, then why are we running and what are you looking at?"

  Bouncing on the spot, Tom looked behind yet again.

  Keeping a hold of his friend's shoulder, Jake stepped up onto a large rock. It wobbled beneath his feet.

  "What are you doing?" Tom asked.

  "Trying to get a better view."

  "So there's no grit up there then?"

  Staring at the large dust cloud on the horizon, which was no clearer from his elevated position, Jake threw Tom a tight smile. "All right, smartarse. It was worth a try at least."

  "Was it? Why?" Tom looked behind again.

  "Okay, it wasn't worth a try." When Jake stepped down, the jolt of landing on the ground sent bolts of electric pain up his shin. "Being two feet higher off the ground did nothing to help me see better. Happy?"

  Shaking his long head, Tom frowned. "Not really. I'd much rather be able to see what was going on."

  Folding his arms across his chest, Jake pouted. "Like you haven't seen them already."

  Shaking his head, Tom stared at him. Another look behind and he walked off again.

  Despite the near-deafening wind, Jake heard a low boom in the distance. It sounded like mortar fire. Running with a limp, he caught up with Tom again. His eyes were wide and his breath short. "Tell me you heard that."

  Tom continued walking.

  Jake had to skip every three paces to keep up. The effort put a strain on his tight lungs. The water continued to swill in his guts. Every trip and stumble ignited the fire in his shin. There was no way he was losing Tom. Not now. Not ever.

  It was Tom who spoke first this time. "You're imagining things, Jake. It's probably just another landslide."

  "A landslide? A landslide doesn't bloody chase you!"

  "It does if you're unlucky."

  Looking behind, the cloud of dust closer than before, Jake said, "We're going uphill, Tom."

  Tom shrugged and continued walking.

  "You know exactly what's following us. You've bloody seen it."

  The accusation was met with silence.

  Another loud bang went off behind them, and Jake's stomach twisted. It took all of his focus not to shit himself. When he saw Tom's wide eyes, he pointed at him. "See, you heard it that time. I know you did."

  Tom didn't reply.

  "So, if there's nothing following us," he caught his breath, "what the fuck was that noise?"

  Bang!

  Jake's heartbeat ran away with him. "What is it, Tom?"

  Bang!

  The ground shook like it had a few minutes previously. With his dry throat turning arid, Jake wanted to stop to drink, but Tom was moving faster than ever.

  Bang!

  The ground wobbled to the point where both of them had to steady themselves. "It's just the shifting landscape, is it?"

  Tom's mouth hung loose, and a frown wrinkled his brow.

  Bang!

  Bang!

  The last bang nearly threw Jake to the floor.

  Finding his voice, Tom said, "Faster! We need to move faster."

  Bang!

  Bang!

  Bang!

  Gritting his teeth against the pain in his leg, Jake sped up and overtook his friend, arriving at the bottom of the next hill first.

  Bang!

  The noise nipped at their ankles and was now accompanied by the skittering of a thousand spindly legs. It was like being chased by an army of giant spiders. Jake imagined a carpet of them coming over the hill, smothering him until he couldn't breathe. Gasping for air, Jake's knees weakened. The next rock he stood on slipped and threw him to the floor. He emptied his bladder where he lay.

  Bang!

  When Tom approached, Jake looked up from his crumpled position, paralyzed with fear and exhaustion. "What shall we do?"

  Looking down at Jake, Tom shook his head and carried on up the hill.

  Jake looked back in the direction of the sound.

  Bang!

  "Tom! Tom! Help me! Tom!"

  Turning to look up the hill, Jake watched the tall man reach the top, stare back at him for a second, and then disappear over the brow.

  ***

  Grinding her jaw, she watched on. The dust on the wind was particularly thick today, but she still saw everything. Why did Tom just leave him? His only friend left in the world. A friend that had given up the past few years of his life to search for his son, and he'd left him.

  Shaking her head, she looked at Jake all alone on the floor, crumpled as he lay there, vulnerable to what was coming over the hill towards him.

  Chapter Six

  Staring at the space his friend had occupied seconds before and seeing only grit, Jake shouted, "Tom, help me!" How far away was he? Could he even hear him now?

  Bang!

  The ground shook again, and Jake grabbed onto a rock next to him. "Tom!"

  The scuttling sound came forward in a wave. Any second and the things would burst through the dust cloud. Every atom of Jake's being wanted to run, but his impotent body wouldn't respond. Without Tom he was fucked. All he could do was wait. As he searched the storm, tiny pops of grit hit the lenses on his glasses. Holding onto his bottle of water as if it would offer him salvation, he remained alert and waited, his mouth dry, his body shaking.

  The sound s
urrounded him, the wash of noise now in front and behind. Looking back up the hill, he shouted again. "Tom!" His heart sank. Tom was long gone.

  There was still nothing to be seen, but the ground rumbled harder than before. Having ignored the thought up until now, Jake found it impossible to push it from his mind. They were beneath him. Was that even possible? How could they move so quickly through the rubble?

  Using his good leg, Jake pushed himself up the hill. The ground slipped and he barely moved. Pushing harder made no difference, other than to shove the rocks and rubble away from him quicker. All his flapping did was remind the things chasing him that he was a warm meal in a world where everything was served cold.

  When the ground rumbled again, Jake looked up the hill. His heart skipped. Stood on the brow, fogged by the clouds of dust, was the silhouette of his tall friend. His eyes burned and tears streamed down his face. "Tom!" The already fuzzy world became large splurges of watercolor. Jake stretched his arm up. "Help me, please."

  The tall man descended the slippery landscape, his arms thrust out to the sides for balance as he skidded down it.

  When a deep yawn groaned through their environment, he stopped. It sounded like a moaning whale. The rocks on the floor bounced with the vibrations.

  Dust and dirt suddenly exploded from the ground between them. For the second time in as many minutes, Tom was lost to him. The deep yawning sounded again and the ground rocked.

  When the dust settled, there was a crevice between them. It was at least three meters wide.

  Gritting his teeth against the fractured pain crawling through his shin, Jake got to his feet. Hobbling towards his friend, he stopped at the edge and looked down into the fissure. It was too dark to see anything clearly. All he could make out was a river of perpetual black movement. He looked back at Tom. "Help me, man."

  Shaking his head, tears standing in his eyes, Tom looked down at the undulating swarm in the ravine. His skin was transparent when he looked back up. Searching the floor around him, Tom shook his head again and took several steps back.