Doomed

by Tracy Deebs

  I glance between him and Jean. She smiles sadly at me, then gets up to refill our coffee cups.

  “Will somebody please tell me what is going on? Because I don’t understand anything!”

  “Yes, big brother, do tell.” Eli’s all smooth sarcasm, but I can tell he’s as pissed as I am that Theo’s been hiding something this huge from us.

  Theo doesn’t flinch under our scrutiny. “All along I’ve been wondering what the game has to do with this. From a programming perspective, it’s a million times more complicated to do what your father’s done than it is to just launch a simple worm. I mean, the worm is complex and all—so complex that it had to be uploaded in twelve pieces, something I’ve never even heard of before.

  “But at the same time, why use the game? Why spend all that extra effort hacking into it, changing it to fit his and Pandora’s relationship, using it to actually upload the worm and destroy the world as we know it? From an efficiency standpoint, it just doesn’t make sense. You’re talking about months, probably years, of extra work that didn’t need to happen.”

  “How else was I supposed to follow the clues? I mean, he wanted to send me on a scavenger hunt, so he used Pandora’s Box.” Bewildered, I look between Theo and Eli.

  “Yeah, and there are a million easier ways to create a scavenger hunt than to mess with an existing game’s matrix. Unless—”

  “Unless you already know that matrix intimately!” Eli crows. “You really are a genius, man.”

  “He may be, but obviously I’m not, because I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about!”

  Theo sighs, and I can tell he’s trying to bring his explanation down a level or five. “I’ve always been as interested in the makers of the games I play as I am in the games themselves. The makers of Pandora’s Box, Coronado Programs, aren’t big game makers. They’re definitely the new kids on the block, so when they came up with this epic game that captured the attention of pretty much every gamer in the world, I wanted to know who they were. So I dug.”

  “And?” I ask, still baffled. “What did you learn? What are they?”

  “A San Diego–based think tank that specializes in solutions to major global environmental crises.”

  “And they make video games?”

  “They never have before. That’s the thing. But about three and a half years ago, if I remember correctly, they ran into a major cash-flow problem. The whole green movement exploded, and cash that used to be exclusively theirs started being earmarked for all kinds of different projects at different companies.”

  “So they became video-game designers? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “No, what they became were backstabbing bastards.” Jean speaks up for the first time, her voice passion filled. “Your father … your father worked for them for years, warned them of what was coming if things didn’t change.”

  “Coming? For what?”

  “For the earth. For the environment.”

  “Nobody listened?”

  “Oh, they listened. But in the end, they sold him out. Not because he was wrong, but because he was right. In politics, being too right about a subject is almost as bad as not having a clue about it. At least that’s what we learned from Coronado Programs. That benign misinformation is actually the best bet in most cases.”

  A feeling of dread comes over me, one that tells me I’m not going to like what I hear next. I want to run from the room, to cover my ears and sing at the top of my lungs like I did as a child when I didn’t want to hear something. But it’s too late for that. Too much is resting on us figuring this thing out.

  “So what happened?”

  Theo sits back, gestures for Jean to continue. She shakes her head, presses her lips together, but in the end she does as he asks. “Your father spent five years, at the behest—and expense—of ten major governments, working on a worst-case scenario for where we, as a planet, were heading. They wanted to know, from a scientific perspective, what Earth was going to look like in fifty, seventy-five, one hundred years. They wanted a ranked list of what the offenders were and how things could be changed to eliminate the worst of the problems.

  “Your dad headed up the project, was involved in every aspect of it. But when he was finally finished, when he presented it to them, it frightened them so much—and pointed fingers at the biggest of the big campaign contributors—that they buried it. Buried him. He went from top dog at Coronado to working on projects that didn’t matter and no one else wanted.”

  “And then they took that virtual worst-case scenario—the most brilliant of its kind—and turned it into Pandora’s Box,” Theo concludes. “The culmination of all your father’s work and research became an apocalyptic MMO that is one of the largest economies in the world and an incredible drain on the environment.

  “I remember reading about it, about how he quit after staging a huge fit that succeeded only in putting the nails in his coffin,” Theo said. “For a man like him, it had to be a slap in the face, a nightmare of epic proportions.”

  “It was. I’ve never seen Mitch like that. So angry, so hurt, so determined to make them pay for what they’d done—to him, to his team, to everyone in the world who would suffer because the people who could do something about his predictions were too blind and too afraid to try.”

  “He was able to hack Pandora’s Box so easily because he designed it?” I ask.

  “Pretty much.” Theo nods.

  “And now he’s done what they tried to tell him couldn’t happen. He’s created his own worst-case scenario, using all of us—all of our lives—as research subjects.” The horror of it rips through me, claws at me until I can barely think. “We’re all just collateral damage to him.”

  A few hours later, Jean sends us off in one of the Willow Farms trucks, on a back road in Colorado on the way to Hugoton, Kansas. The truck is filled up and loaded with enough extra gas to get us through the five-hour drive. We finally found the coordinates, N 37°10’31” and W 101°20’59”, but only after we built three houses (one for each of us) and battled with Oceanus, the Greek Titan in charge of the world’s water systems. He called forth the Mississippi and nearly drowned us—I’m still not certain how we survived, especially since he almost got me in his huge pincer claws more than once. There’s another task for us to complete, but we won’t be able to do it until we get to an ethanol plant in Hugoton, Kansas, and find the code word.

  “Hey, Pandora, can I have an apple?” Eli asks from the driver’s seat.

  I roll my eyes, but he can’t see me as I’m stretched out in the back. Still, I hand him the fruit. Jean fed us again before we left, as well as filling up half the backseat with extra food. I’m so stuffed I can’t imagine eating again until tomorrow, but Eli and Theo don’t have that problem. Makes me wonder just how hungry they must have been in New Mexico, when even I was starving.

  I close my eyes, overwhelmed once again by what they’ve sacrificed to help me on this terrible quest. I know Theo says he’s doing it for himself, but I saw through that argument even as he was making it. He rescued me, came with me, because he’s the kind of guy who does that. The kind of guy who stands up when no one else wants to.

  As for Eli, I still haven’t decided if he’s just along for the ride or if he really wants to save the world. I don’t suppose it matters, as the end result is the same. The two of them are in this with me. I’m so grateful I don’t have to do it alone.

  “When we get to Hugoton, how are we going to find the right ethanol plant?” I ask.

  Eli’s too busy slamming on the brakes to answer.

  Despite my seat belt, I nearly roll into the seat in front of me. “What’s going on?”

  “Cars are backed up heading into town,” Theo answers.

  “I can see that.”

  Both Eli and Theo grow more alert, which makes me nervous. “What’s wrong?” I ask, poking my head up.

  “Stay down, Pandora.” Theo reaches a hand back and actually shoves my head down to
the seat.

  I stay down.

  “Homeland Security?” I whisper, afraid to even say the words out loud in case it conjures them up. They’re the bogeyman in this new story of my life.

  “I think Homeland Security would be an improvement,” is Eli’s cryptic reply as he hits the locks.

  “What do you want to do?” he asks Theo.

  “About what?” I demand.

  “I’m not sure. We could try to turn around, but you need to get into the other lane—”

  “Damn it, I’m here, too, you know. Tell me what’s going on!” I sit up to look for myself, and both Eli and Theo curse. This time it’s Eli who shoves me down, and he’s nowhere near as gentle about it as Theo was.

  “There’s a motorcycle gang outside, okay?” Theo tells me in a furious whisper. “They’re working their way down the cars, robbing people. The last thing we need them to do is catch sight of you.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with me?”

  He and Eli exchange another look, and I’m beginning to feel stupid, not to mention left out of the good old boys’ club they’ve got going on in the front seat. Nice that they’ve gone from hating each other to being bonded together in silence against me.

  A woman’s scream splits the air around us. Theo stiffens even more, and I can sense Eli’s growing alarm as Theo reaches for the door handle.

  “Stay in the car, man!” Eli says from between clenched teeth, his hand grabbing on to Theo’s biceps like he plans to physically hold him in place.

  “Goddamnit, Eli, they’re going to rape that woman!”

  “And if you get out of this car, they’ll kill you and me and then rape and kill Pandora. Do not draw attention to us.” Eli glances at me in the rearview mirror. “Can you find a blanket back there, Pandora? Cover yourself up?”

  “Are you serious? They’re really—”

  Another scream splits the air, more high-pitched and terrified than the last. “We have to help them, Theo. We can’t let them do this—”

  “They’re already doing it, Pandora. There’s ten of them and they’re armed. Judging by the way they’re working their way through the line, they’ve got this down to a science.”

  The car next to us pulls out of line and starts to make a U-turn over the center divider. But the road is just as packed going in the other direction—more proof that no one knows where to go in the middle of this nightmare, only that they don’t want to be where they are.

  The next thing I know, two motorcycles zoom past us, zipping between the rows of cars. They stop when they get to the car that made a break for it. I peer through the side window and watch as one of them smashes the window in with a baseball bat. Then they’re yanking the driver out.

  She’s young and pretty, and I can hear her baby screaming from the backseat even through the rolled-up windows of our truck. Eli shifts uncomfortably, and Theo’s hands clench the dashboard so hard that I’m afraid he’s going to rip it off.

  Eli glances to the right, tries to look past the cars in front of us. “The next turnoff isn’t that far up, right? Can we drive on the grass and get off there?”

  “If we could, wouldn’t other people be doing that?” Despite his words, Theo risks putting down his window and sticking his head out to try to see around the cars. When he turns back to us, his face is even more grim. “There’s a lot more of them. They’ve got all the avenues of escape shut down in every direction I can see.”

  Even so, more people are starting to make a run for it. The car two spots in front of us tries to pull out of line, but gets its tires shot for the attempt.

  “We’ve got to do something. We can’t just sit here!” I whisper loudly.

  The mother screams again, and I’m out of the car before I can think twice about it. But then, so is Theo. Even as I do it, I know it’s a bad move, know we’re probably going to end up getting hurt, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing while those bastards hurt whoever they want.

  “Stop it,” I yell, charging across the highway toward them. Maybe if we’re lucky, more people will step up. They can’t stand against all of us. “Leave her alone.”

  The two men turn to glare at me, and I freeze under their stares. I can’t help it. I’ve never seen such dead eyes in my entire life. There will be no reasoning with them, no talking them out of leaving her alone. I don’t even have a weapon.

  Their gazes rake me from top to bottom, and I feel the chill all the way down my spine. Eli was right. They’re not going to be content to just hurt me. Still, I won’t back down, won’t show fear. Like with any wild animal, that’s the kiss of death.

  I know Theo’s right next to me. I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. Behind us, Eli is rummaging in the car for something—I don’t know what.

  “Don’t worry, darlin’,” one of them says in a mockery of a southern drawl that makes my skin crawl. “There’ll be plenty left for you when we’re done with her.”

  He comes closer, and Theo grows even tenser, though I didn’t know that was possible. He thrusts me behind him, stands up to his full height of six foot eight inches, and just watches, his face as blank and intimidating as ever. I know he’s scared, can feel the fine tremor shaking him, but he doesn’t back down an inch.

  “Isn’t robbing her enough?” Theo asks. “Get what you need and move on.”

  The second man points a pistol at Theo, cocks it. A scream wells up inside me, an apology for putting us in this situation. Already the other men have finished whatever they were doing up ahead, and are coming toward us. We need to get back in the car before they reach us, but it’s already too late. I know it is.

  There’s no way they’re going to let us just walk out of here.

  “Why don’t you get back in the car, son? You don’t want to tangle with us.” This from the man with the gun.

  “I’m already tangling with you and you need to let that woman go.”

  “What I need is to let Mike here shoot your oversized ass.”

  An older man fumbles out of the car behind us. “Leave those kids alone!” he shouts.

  “Really, Grandpa? Are you going to stop us?”

  Two more men get out of their cars and join us. “You’ve got what you wanted. Now leave us alone,” the first one says.

  The two bikers exchange a look, like they know things are getting out of hand. Eli’s behind me now, and he grabs my shoulder, tries to shove me back toward the truck. “Get in, Pandora.”

  Believe me, I want to. But standing here, watching these assholes figure out that things aren’t going to be as easy as they expected them to be, makes me understand the power of numbers. And the power of speaking up. I’m not going to hide until they turn around and leave that woman, and these people, alone.

  “Look, I’m going to give you one more chance,” the biker with the gun growls. “And then someone’s going to die.” He waves the gun around, pointing it at all of us in turn before focusing it on me. “My friends are almost here. Get back in your cars and you won’t be hurt.”

  I know he’s right, can hear the other members of his gang running the last few feet toward us, cursing. I don’t look, though. I can’t. I’m spellbound as I stare down the barrel of the gun pointed right at my chest.

  “Leave us alone!” someone else yells. And I can see it in the way the gun shifts, feel it in the hate emanating from the man pointing it at me. I’m about to die.

  I start to drop to the ground at the same time Theo broadsides me, knocking me halfway to hell and back. I hit the ground hard, Theo on top of me, just as four shots ring out.

  Theo goes limp on top of me at the third shot, and I shove him out of the way, see that he’s bleeding from his arm. “Oh my God! He shot you!”

  I turn to Eli for help, but he’s standing there, gun in his hand and face slack with shock. I look around wildly and realize what’s happened. Two of those shots weren’t from the bikers. They were from Eli. To save Theo, he’s shot them both. One in the head and the othe
r in the chest.

  Horror, terror, revulsion, relief, shock all tear through me at the same time. I look around, realize every single person here is as freaked out as I am. I also realize the other bikers will reach us in seconds. All hell breaks loose as the growing crowd surges to meet them, ready for battle now that first blood has been drawn.

  The chaos is the best chance we’ve got to escape, as I have a feeling the biker gang is not going to take the murder of two of its members very well.

  “Can you stand?” I ask Theo.

  “Yeah, sure.” But he’s pale, and looks like he’s going into shock.

  “Eli, can you help me?” I call urgently. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m speaking to him. Just stares at the two men on the ground—one dead and one dying—in absolute horror.

  I climb to my feet, then help Theo up and to the truck. “Get in the back,” I tell him as I grab Eli. “We have to go.”

  He doesn’t answer, so I shake him a little. “Eli, get in the truck!”

  Still no response. I slap him across the face, hard. “Get in the fucking truck!” I shove him with all my strength.

  It’s enough to get his attention. He drops the gun and though he moves slowly, like he’s in a dream—or more accurately, a nightmare—Eli finally heads toward the truck. I think about picking up the gun but can’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I follow Eli as he climbs in the driver’s side, then scoots over as I shove against his shoulder and get behind the wheel.

  “What are you going to do?” Theo demands from the backseat.

  “Get the hell out of here. What do you think I’m going to do?”

  I twist the steering wheel all the way to the right and hit the gas, just as one of the bikers reaches for the door handle. We scream onto the shoulder, taking out the bumper of the car in front of us. And then we’re flying down the pavement, and I’m twisting and turning the wheel to avoid obstacles. Thank God it’s a wide sidewalk.

  I try to take the first right, but it’s blocked off by men with motorcycles and guns, so I keep my foot on the gas and blaze straight ahead. This bottleneck has to end somewhere.