Infinity Lost (The Infinity Trilogy Book 1)

by Harrison, S.

  Just outside I see a wide metal alcove lit with a single rectangular overhead light. About ten feet in is a windowless, shiny-gray metallic door stenciled with a large blue number nine. A few tiny specks of blood dot the floor of the alcove and disappear beneath the door. The pod slides open and we step out, Carlo with a deadly serious look on his face, me with the heavy brass candleholder still gripped tightly in one hand.

  “Open the outer door, Onix.” The gray door with the nine stenciled on it immediately slides up into the ceiling with a quiet shooshing sound.

  Beyond the open door, the light in the alcove dimly illuminates the start of a passageway that quickly leads off into darkness.

  “Onix, can you turn the hallway lights on, please?”

  “I’m afraid the hallway lights are no longer functioning, Finn. Dr. Pierce has manually disabled them all except for the alcove light directly above you.”

  “Why would she . . . ?” Halfway through my thought, I find out exactly why she did. A gunshot echoes down the passage with a reverberating twang. I hear the bullet zing past my ear, and the window on the pod door explodes into a thousand pieces.

  “Get down!” I shout. Carlo and I both dive onto the floor of the alcove.

  “Get out of the light!” I yell as we both start crawling forward, as fast as we can, farther into the passageway. The gray door whooshes shut behind us and we’re plunged into complete darkness.

  There’s a flash up ahead, another echoing twang, and the thud of a bullet punching a hole in the thin metallic wall barely ten inches above my head.

  “She’s gone totally crazy!” shouts Carlo. I can hear him opposite me, shuffling on his elbows deeper into the dark.

  “Onix! Where is she?! What is she doing down here?!” I call into the blackness. There’s no answer. “Onix?” He still doesn’t answer, but it’s not completely silent, either. I can’t see a thing, but there’s a faint rasping sound, like labored breaths and wheezing gasps, coming from somewhere. Then, from all around us comes a voice. Nanny Theresa’s voice.

  “Onix is otherwise engaged, Infinity . . . I’ve muzzled him like a good dog. Silly me . . . really should have done that earlier.” She sounds weak, broken, but it’s definitely her, alright. Her voice is quiet, but it fills the whole passageway. There must be some kind of built-in intercom or speaker system. “I didn’t expect to see you . . . when the door opened,” she rasps.

  “Nanny Theresa! We’re here to help you!”

  I hear her quiet feeble laugh, followed by a string of wet, gargling coughs. “There’s no helping me now, Infinity . . . you need to worry about who is going . . . to help you . . . child.”

  BANG! Te-owng! Another bullet ricochets off the wall. I hear it hit the metal door with a dull thud in the dark behind us.

  “Stop shooting at us!” Carlo yells.

  “Mr. Delgado . . .” wheezes Nanny Theresa. “Poor boy . . . how unlucky you are . . . to be caught up in all of . . . this.”

  “All of what?! What are you talking about?!” shouts Carlo.

  “If you knew the truth . . . you would run as far away from here as you can . . . and never look back.” Nanny Theresa coughs again with a hacking, liquid, retching sound.

  “Carlo. Your phone! Give me your phone. I’m calling Jonah.”

  “What is she talking about, Finn?” Carlo whispers.

  “I have no idea,” I whisper back. I hear him fumbling in the dark. The light from Carlo’s phone blinks on, lighting up our section of passageway. With a quick push, he slides it across the floor to me.

  BANG! Another bullet whizzes right in between us. I grab the phone and cover the screen with my hand.

  “Stop!” Carlo shouts down the hall.

  “Jonah told me . . . everything, Infinity. About their plans for you . . . for the world. How did I not see it? Perhaps I simply . . . didn’t want to.” Nanny Theresa’s voice is fading with every word. “It all started with you, Infinity . . . and if there is even the smallest chance that I can stop it . . . then I will do my best to make sure . . . that it ends with you.”

  “She’s talking crazy, she’s gone completely mental,” whispers Carlo.

  Still covering the screen with one hand, I tap Jonah’s number, then his password, into Carlo’s phone. I hold it to my ear and Jonah answers almost immediately.

  “Hello? Who is this? This number is restricted and encoded . . .”

  “Jonah, it’s Finn. You need to come home right now!”

  “Finn? What’s wrong?”

  “Nanny Theresa killed her nurse. She’s got a gun and she’s trying to shoot me and Carlo.”

  “Oh no . . . no. Finn, are you in sublevel nine?”

  “Yeah . . . how did you . . . ?”

  “I received an alert of a security override. I was already on my way back. Get out of there, Finn. Now!” The phone beeps and Jonah hangs up.

  “Jonah wants us to get out of here,” I whisper.

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Carlo whispers back. “How do we open the door?”

  “If it’s anything like levels one and two, there should be an exit button right beside it.”

  “Yeah. She might hit one of us when we step into the light, though. Maybe we should just wait until Jonah gets here?”

  “Maybe. But if Jonah opens that door, she might shoot him instead. Wait, how many shots has she fired? Was it four or five?”

  “I dunno,” whispers Carlo. “Why?”

  “She’s using an antique revolver from her room. It holds only six bullets. I’ve got an idea. Let’s give her something else to aim at.” I touch the screen of Carlo’s phone and it lights up; I hold it up high with my fingertips.

  “Finn. Don’t!” Carlo pushes off the wall and grabs for the phone. A shot rings out, followed by the shattering of glass. I quickly snatch back my hand as the phone is knocked from my fingers, its light snuffed out.

  BANG!

  Another shot echoes down the passage and I recoil as a spray of warm droplets speckles my face.

  No.

  Please.

  No.

  I blindly grope in the dark with panic. “Carlo!”

  There’s no answer. “Carlo! Answer me!”

  I find his ankle, jump to my feet, and pull with all my strength back toward the entrance.

  “Talk to me Carlo,” I say between strained breaths. “SAY SOMETHING, DAMMIT!”

  I drag him until I feel the cold metal of the door, and my fingers scramble desperately along the wall for the button. There isn’t one.

  I drop to my knees, and feel along Carlo’s arms and chest. “Carlo, don’t leave me. I need you,” I whimper, tears welling in my eyes. I feel up his neck and then across his face. It’s soaked wet with his blood.

  “No.”

  Rage boils up inside me. Anger and shock like I’ve never felt before spreads like fire and ice through my whole body and envelops my heart like an iron cage. I feel pain and indescribable, unbearable, burning sorrow.

  “You’ve killed him.” My chest starts heaving uncontrollably. “You’ve killed him.” I haul myself to my feet and stand in the dark, my clenched fists dripping with Carlo’s blood. I scream like a raging storm into the void, “You’ve killed him, you evil bitch!”

  Without thinking I sprint down the hall blindly, my footsteps echoing on the metallic floor as I go; the only image in my mind is the end of Nanny Theresa once and for all.

  “Where are you?”

  The sound of my footsteps changes like I’ve entered a bigger room. I hit something hard and there’s a loud clattering of metal objects as I sprawl across the floor. I scramble to my feet, looking from side to side, cursing my eyes for not seeing in the dark.

  Suddenly a computer screen blinks to life across the room. It isn’t bright enough to completely light the whole space, but
it’s more than enough for me to see Nanny Theresa’s ghostly illuminated face. My eyes begin to adjust, and in the dim white glow from the screen I see that I’m standing in the center of what looks like an operating room. There’s a stainless steel table with lights hanging over it, and vague shapes of machines and equipment line the walls. A flimsy wheeled trolley lies overturned at my feet and all kinds of surgical tools are scattered across the floor. I snatch up a scalpel, kick the trolley aside, and stride toward Nanny Theresa. She’s sitting in what resembles a dentist’s chair with her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling ever so slightly, the antique pistol resting in the palm of her open hand. A computer screen is mounted in front of her face on a metal swivel arm, and there’s some kind of thick metal band with wires coming out of it clamped to her forehead.

  I push the screen aside and grab the collar of her hospital gown.

  “Wake up,” I hiss, my hand shaking with rage as I press the blade of the scalpel to her neck. “I want to look into your eyes before I kill you.”

  Nanny Theresa slowly opens her eyes and smiles at me. “Cut my throat if you like . . . Infinity,” she says looking sideways at the computer screen. “But I’ve already . . . escaped.”

  I look over to the monitor and see two words flashing in bright red.

  UPLOAD COMPLETE.

  “What do you mean, you psycho bitch?” I growl at her. “You’re sitting right here. Either you live and go to prison, or I kill you myself. You can’t escape what you’ve done.”

  She looks me right in the eyes. “Now, now, child . . . that’s no way to speak to your . . . dear old Nanny Theresa.”

  She gasps, and with her final breath utters her dying words. “Onix. Send.” Her eyes roll back in her skull, her head slumps to the side, and she’s gone.

  The monitor changes. Now there’s only one word flashing in blue.

  SENDING.

  “No!” yells a voice from behind me. I turn and see Jonah standing in the half-light with Carlo’s limp body in his arms. He lays him down on the operating table and rushes over. He pushes me out of the way and shakes Nanny Theresa by the shoulders. “What have you done, Theresa!”

  “She’s dead, Jonah.”

  He doesn’t even seem to hear me.

  He grabs the computer screen on both sides and stares at it in horror and disbelief.

  “Onix! Cancel last action! Onix!” There’s no answer. “What’s happened to Onix, Finn?”

  “Nanny Theresa said she . . . muzzled him?”

  “That explains why I couldn’t use the pod. I had to break into the emergency exit to get down here,” he mutters.

  “What’s going on, Jonah? What is this thing she’s hooked up to?” I ask as he jabs and swipes at the screen.

  “It’s a neural interface. Your father designed it to map thoughts and record memories. It looks like Theresa has used it to digitize her brain patterns into the mainframe.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s uploaded her mind into the computer.”

  “That’s impossible. Isn’t it?”

  “No. Not impossible. Just extremely dangerous. It’s been attempted only once before, and that person didn’t survive, either.” Jonah is deep in concentration, frantically tapping code after code into the screen.

  “Who didn’t survive?”

  Jonah stops tapping and meets my eyes. The look on his face immediately tells me that he’s regretting the words he just spoke.

  “My . . . mother?” I manage.

  Jonah turns back to the screen and jabs at it more quickly and twice as hard as before. “That’s not what I said, Finn.”

  “My mother uploaded her mind? Why, Jonah? Can she see me? Can I talk to her?” My words fall on deaf ears.

  “Onix! Answer me, Onix!” Jonah bellows.

  “Neural interface data upload successful.”

  “NO!” Jonah yells at the screen and roughly pushes it away.

  “What does it mean, Jonah?”

  “What it means is that Theresa digitized her thoughts and sent them to the Hypernet. They could be anywhere. She could be anywhere.”

  “Just like my mother could be?”

  “Now is not the time, Finn,” Jonah says coldly. “Onix.”

  “Yes, Major Brogan?”

  “Lights.”

  The room is flooded with bright white light. I squint as my eyes adjust.

  Jonah must be insane if he thinks avoiding the subject of my mother will end this conversation, but for now the multitude of questions I desperately need to ask will have to wait.

  I lost my dearest friend today.

  I force myself to look over at Carlo. I slowly walk to the side of the operating table and look down at him. His face is smeared and his hair is wet with blood. He looks so peaceful, like he’s sleeping. Tears pour down my cheeks. I reach out my trembling hand to touch his arm, but my fingers recoil against my will. I just can’t bring myself to do it.

  “Carlo is gone, Finn,” whispers Jonah.

  I close my eyes, hang my head, and sob quietly. Images of Carlo dance through my mind: his smiling face, his deep-green eyes, his olive skin bronzed richer by the sun. I’m there, too, running after him through the trees of the Seven Acre Wood, sitting beside him talking for hours in our hidden places among the fallen leaves, fighting with him, laughing with him, riding horses through the fields with him, lying in the soft grass telling him all my deepest secrets. Memories of every summer we ever had unfold—colorful, vivid, and beautiful like pages in a picture book made just for us, containing the happiest pieces of my childhood frozen in time forever, and ending with the moment of our first kiss.

  Our last kiss.

  Deep down I think I knew, but was never brave enough to confess: I had fallen in love with the boy by the pond in the woods.

  I wipe the tears from my eyes and look down again at Carlo. Only then do I realize that I’m holding his lifeless hand in mine.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Jonah whispers from behind me. “I promise, tomorrow it will all be like it never happened.”

  Suddenly a sharp sting bites deep into the back of my neck. Almost instantly, my limbs turn to jelly and I collapse to the floor. I can’t move anything except my eyes, but I’m still wide awake and alert.

  What’s happening?! Jonah! What are you doing?! I scream the words as loud as I can but my lips don’t move. They don’t make a sound.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jonah placing a syringe on a kidney-shaped stainless steel tray. He walks over to Nanny Theresa’s body and removes the thick metal band from her head. He grabs the front of her gown and roughly pulls her off the chair. Her lifeless body flops into a heap beside me on the cold white tiles. Her limp tongue lolls out from the side of her mouth like a pink eel, and her dead, gray, sunken eyes stare right through me.

  Jonah walks over to me, crouches down, and lifts me into his arms like a floppy rag doll. He carries me over to the chair and gently places me upon it. He takes the metal band and puts it on my head.

  All I can do is glare at him in disbelief, my lips totally paralyzed, my eyes glistening with pleading.

  “Just like it never happened, Finn. I’ll fix your memories. Wipe this whole day clean away. I promise.” He says the words with a warm smile that sends shivers through every atom of my entire useless body.

  Jonah swings the computer screen toward him and begins typing. “You fell from a horse and were knocked out cold; you’ve been in bed for two days recovering.” Tears flood down my face, dripping off my chin into my lap. “Nanny Theresa retired and moved away to live with her sister. She’s very happy.” A pathetic whimper is all I can muster from my half-open mouth.

  “Carlo went to live with his mother in a different country. You’ve grown apart and lost contact.”

  Anger, betrayal, sadness
, and fear course through my veins, my mind, my body, and deep into my suffering soul.

  “Virtually fabricate the scenarios, please, Onix, and prepare the relevant neurons for erasure and memory implantation.”

  “Yes, Major Brogan.”

  You’re not my brother, Onix. You’re nothing but a filthy traitor.

  Jonah gives me a look of concern and my skin not only crawls but prickles with hatred. “You won’t remember this horrible day, sweetheart. I swear.” He reaches over and wipes the tears from my cheek. I wish I could pull away and spit in his face.

  “Try and relax, Finn. I realize that you don’t remember, but you and I have been doing this since you were two years old. This won’t hurt at all.” Jonah smiles to himself. “Y’know, it’s funny how many times I’ve told you that.”

  My mind writhes in horror and disgust. I feel dirty, my entire being white-hot with the pain of a lifetime of betrayal.

  Jonah takes a deep breath and attempts one last look of reassurance. Then, he simply swipes his finger across the screen—casually, as if erasing a smudge from a mirror—and the raging inferno of pain and sorrow in my heart is utterly and instantly snuffed out like the dying flame of a lonely candle.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Carlo . . . where are you?

  I can’t see you, Carlo. I can’t see anything. Help me, please, help me.

  His warm lips find mine in the darkness.

  There you are. I thought I’d lost you. Please don’t leave me.

  My chest rises and falls.

  Where are we, Carlo? Why does my throat hurt so much? Why can’t I see you, Carlo? Where are we?

  A slow, hollow, thumping rhythm echoes through the darkness.

  My chest rises and falls again and there, far above me, a fuzzy circle of light slowly grows into view.

  I don’t understand what’s happening, Carlo.