Controllers (Book 1)

by Lynnie Purcell

  I jump slightly as I hear a sudden hiss. The glass starts moving, rearranging itself so that it's all around me. I know that whatever scene it creates, it will feel real. Will reality blur and the lines get crossed? Will the vision be as sweet as the smiles I've seen on the immigrants' faces? Will I have the same smile by the end?

  I think of Willem's help nervously. He's done everything he can to make me less susceptible to the brainwashing. He's done his best to make sure I'll have some part of me left after the game. I know it's because of Ace. He's loyal to his nephew. He has risked everything to help me. And now it's my turn. I'll have to do my best in return. I just wish I knew what that is.

  The glass stops rearranging itself and a section of the city appears in front of me. I know it well. I have seen it in the game more times than I can count. It's a residential area. The houses are large and sweet. Leafy trees create a tunnel across the street. I can almost smell the flowers and the breeze. That is one thing the game has never managed well, the smells.

  I look both ways down the street. It's deserted. There's nothing to suggest that the city holds people at all. I don't know what I am supposed to be doing. Would someone who was far gone in the brainwashing be moving already? Would they be following subliminal clues I am missing?

  The city streets flicker, revealing text written into the walls, street and sky. Obey the government. Submit. Self-sacrifice is the greatest happiness. Obey the government. Be happy to serve. Love the city. The messages are all commands to submit and act in certain ways. I also see a command to walk.

  The flickering is clearer. I don't know why. I'm just glad I have directions written out so clearly in front of me. It makes pretending easier.

  I walk to the end of the road and stop. The road intersects with another. Everything is silent, but I hear a distant hum start up. Something is about to happen. A second later, the city starts moving. Pods race over my head. Lifts move along at a leisurely pace as they take large groups from one end of the city to the other. I can almost picture Ace piloting one of the lifts. It feels so real. The dull thap-thap-thap tells me a drone is nearby.

  The game flickers again. Obey. Submit. Self-sacrifice. Discipline. Service. Love the government. Be loyal.

  I shake off the commands with narrowed eyes and search the scene for what I am supposed to be doing. I look to my right. People walk along the stone road. They're friendly and peaceful. Some of the people garden in their yards, others play with their children or hang out on their porches. It's a scene of perfection. I know it's because it's not real. Perfection only exists in fantasy. Still, a part of me yearns to join them. It's peace I have never really known. I look to my left. The vision is repeated on that side, only...I turn to get a better look as a face catches my eye.

  It's him. It's really him.

  I take several steps toward Max, my heart racing in my chest. My brother is in front of me as if we never parted. His expression is content and his eyes are full of laughter. He moves closer. I want to throw my arms around him and never let him go. I can't. The truth of the game holds me back.

  "There you are, Bree," he says, sounding irritated. I know his irritation well. It's how he always sounds when I'm not where I'm supposed to be. "I've been looking all over for you."

  "Why?" I ask.

  "It's time for school," he says, rolling his eyes at me.

  "We don't go to school," I say.

  "Of course we do," he replies.

  He grabs my hand and pulls me down the street. I follow him, knowing that doing so is part of the game. Willem had said it would be personal. I can't think of anything more personal than Max. The school has something to do with the message they want to send. I continue to get flashes of what the game wants me to do. Obey and Submit are repeated often. Other commands, like forget the past, look to the future, be happy with your service to the government, serve faithfully, are all repeated back to me in the creases of a woman's dress, the shadow of a building and the pop of a government flag as it waves in the air.

  Max takes me to a large building with two towers on either side. The government flag hangs from both towers and people my age stand around the exterior. I'm supposed to know them. I realize they're people I've seen before. Guards, teenagers from the party I attended, Karen, and soldiers in the RFA are all there. I catch a glimpse of Ace's face before I turn away. I don't want to look at him. It'll just give him away to the people watching the game. They'll see my emotion.

  Max throws his arm over my shoulders and gives me a little shake. "Isn't this the best?" he asks.

  "The best?" I question skeptically.

  "We have all the food, shelter and friends we could ever need. People here care for us."

  The people flicker. Obey. Submit. Loyalty. Service. Happiness. Peace.

  "Yeah," I say skeptically.

  Max does not notice my skepticism. The real Max would have. He would have turned and smiled at me, his expression mocking. This Max just smiles and pulls me over to a group of people I'm supposed to know and like. Their flickering faces tell me as much. I'm tense and sweating. The game is not about talking and sitting around. It's more violent than that. They're setting me up for something. This is the calm before the storm. I keep looking over my shoulder in anticipation.

  Max leads me into the school. It's brighter than the facility. Tall windows allow in the light, and people chat happily. There's no fear or oppression. This is how most teenagers in the city feel. They have no reason to think poorly of their government. They're treated well.

  We walk into a gym. People are goofing off as they wait for the teacher. Their faces keep flickering with messages to obey, love them and the city, and serve. It makes me want to punch them all.

  Max talks to a pretty girl I recognize only vaguely. He's in the middle of telling her about his training when a roar of noise on the outside of the building shatters the air. Everyone turns to look. My heart starts racing in earnest. This is the part of the game they want me to face. It's also the part that Willem thinks I can't win.

  I don't know what to do. Should I do nothing? Should I fight back? Heat surrounds my body. I've spent weeks doing nothing. I have stood in silence and let them use me and control me. I've done my best to stay under the radar and have failed miserably. And I am tired of the lie. I'll fight until the game claims me. I have to.

  Max pulls me to the corner of the room as there is another roar of sound. It's shouting. The school is under attack. Max is trying to run away from the drama. I know my brother. He may get afraid sometimes, but he's not a coward. He's brave and determined. He would have been the first one to fight if the situation were real. I jerk my hand out of his and look around the room. There are no weapons in the gym, but there has to be something I can use.

  Before I can figure out a plan, the gym doors explode, sending flecks of shrapnel in all directions. I duck and feel a piece of metal graze my arm. Bright red blood soaks my grey shirt. It's not a large wound, but it's enough to tell me that I can get seriously hurt. They are not above hurting me to teach their lesson. I wonder if anyone has died in the game.

  A wave of people pour into the room. Patches of blue are on their arms. Rebels. They're the enemy I must face. At the front of the group is Devlin and my parents. They look like something out of a storybook. They're monsters, not people. Their faces are twisted by bloody lesions and sores. Their skin has a shade of pale I have only seen in death. Their teeth drip with blood. They only vaguely look like humans. The government wants me to kill them, to think of them as enemies. Fighting them means protecting the government and its people from harm.

  I know that killing them can't possibly hurt them. They're illusions. But my heart is still beating wildly. It's the first time I've seen my parents in front of me in years. It's weird to look at them and know we're related. They're strangers. I picture them killing unarmed people. My anger spirals out of control. I stop being rational in that moment.

  I can fight them. I will pass this t
est and get out of the facility. Once I'm free, I will find a way to get Max out of the city. Maybe Ace will help us with his underground network. There's an answer somewhere.

  The others try to fight back but fall in the attack. The rebels bend down to rip into their flesh. They start eating the people, blood and flesh clinging to their lips and chins. Who came up with this game? It's demented. It's terrifying. It's exactly the point. They want us to fear the rebels so we work hard to protect the government in all forms. I step forward and meet the first attacker. It's my mother.

  I dodge under a swipe of her hand and kick her in the ankles. Her legs fly out from under her. I kneel and pull the pistol out of her holster. She grabs my hand, her fingernails digging into my skin. Still feeling angry at her for what she's done, the innocent people she has killed, I pull the trigger. The bullet lands in her forehead, and she lets me go. I take a deep breath and calm surrounds me.

  It's just a game. You can't hurt them, but they can hurt you. They'll kill you and you'll never see Max again. Stay focused.

  I raise my pistol as a man charges me. I shoot him twice. He falls to the ground. The shrieks of the dying are very loud. They remind me of the fight that started everything. If only Max and I had never seen it, everything would be different. I pull the man's pistol off his belt and tuck it into my pants. I start picking off targets. My aim is perfect. The rebels start dropping. The citizens move so that they are behind me. They whisper words to me. Obey. Serve. Self-sacrifice. Protect us. Serve us. Forget your past. Focus on your future.

  I wonder if they expect me to give my life for theirs. I won't do it. I keep firing. The pistol is like my rifle. There is a rapport and a puff of gunpowder. It is not like the government guns where a charge is needed. It feels familiar. My confidence grows.

  My hand and arm starts to burn from holding the pistol up so long, but I'm pushing the rebels back. Some of them get too close and I have to fight them hand-to-hand. They do not have my skill. They fall easily. My hand trembles slightly as Devlin turns to face me. He looks nothing like how I remember him. It's easy to imagine him as something else. I squeeze the trigger on my pistol and he falls. I take his pistol from him as well.

  I reach the door of the gym. The hall is full of enemies. Their faces and hands are covered in blood, and their eyes hold only violence. They remind me of the rioters. I wonder almost absently if this is the reason for the madness. Maybe they looked into the faces of the rebels and saw themselves. They couldn't pull away and went mad. I feel a touch of the madness clinging to my brain. I want to be like them. The violence is so close.

  Getting through all of the rebels in the hall is impossible. It's reckless. I'll die. I've stopped caring.

  I take a deep breath and plunge into the hall. I fire left and right. My pistol runs out of bullets. I toss it away and pull out one of my stolen ones. I keep firing. Hands graze me. They're swarming me. I need to find a better place to fight them. I start running. A large man blocks the hall. I slide under him, not losing my stride, then run full speed for the door. I reach it and slam it closed behind me. More rebels are on the outside. One of them has a grenade. He lobs it at me. I jump off the stairs and roll. The doors disappear with the explosion. The rebels pour out of the building. They have one focus: me.

  I know the game will only end with one of two conclusions. I have to kill every last rebel or they have to kill me. I hit a man in the face with my pistol and then shoot him in the forehead. I need to outthink them. I need to get to higher ground and find a truly defensive position. I search the buildings around me as I run. They're mostly houses. They don't have what I need to survive.

  I turn left, the sound of feet behind me letting me know they're chasing me, and increase my pace. I know where I am and where I'm going. My weeks of playing the game has taught me the city. I run into a district of shops. It takes me a minute to find the one I want. It's a square building with a large lip around the roof. An awning protects the door from the weather. I jump up and grab the edge. With a grunt, I grab the top, my hand clutching at the tightly stretched fabric for a handhold. It's not great leverage, but it's enough. My arms shake slightly as I pull myself up. A hand grabs my ankle. I kick out at the woman's face and she pulls away. I finally roll onto the top. I take a deep breath and move again as the awning rattles. Hands appear along the edge. They're following me.

  I stand and jump over to the wall. A window provides me with a way up. I pull myself up and then balance on the shutters. I reach up to grab the edge of the roof. My fingertips graze the edge. I'm not tall enough. I have to jump.

  The rebels have made it to the awning. They reach up to drag me down. Two of them start climbing beneath me. I have seconds. I take a deep breath and jump. My right hand catches on the edge. My other hand dangles. I'm slipping down. I'm going to fall.

  I will not go out like this. I won't.

  My other hand finds the ledge and I pull up with all of my strength. My elbows find the ledge next. I finally have the leverage I need. I roll over the lip of the roof and hit the ground on the other side. I don't take long to recover from the climb. They're not far behind me. I need a corner that's mine.

  The only things on the square roof are a large solar panel and a device that stores the energy for the lights, heating and cooling and electrical needs. It's square and bulky. They are my only cover. A trapdoor is in the floor. I know the building. The awning and the door are the only ways up. I have an eye on both.

  I put my shoulder against the electrical storage box and raise my pistol. I'll run out of ammo before I run out of enemies but, hopefully, I can loot the dead and continue the fight. It's my only chance at survival.

  The first face appears over the ledge. I fire. Again and again, I fire. My pistol clicks alarmingly. I toss it away and pull out my last stolen pistol. It has twenty-one shots. I will have to make them count. The building rattles with an explosion. Someone has broken down the door to the inside. They will try to come up the through the trapdoor next. There is nothing I can do to stop them.

  I fire and fire and fire. My pistol clicks again. I am officially out of ammo. I have no weapons. I will have to fight hand-to-hand. The thought does not intimidate me. I'm done being afraid. I run around the box and punch the first person in my way. He drops to the ground then starts to get up again. I kick him in the face and he collapses. He doesn't have a pistol. He carries a medium-sized hatchet. I pick it up. It's covered in blood, but I figure it doesn't matter. The bloodshed is about to get a lot worse.

  I swing left and right. I'm working in the garden again, only my harvest is far more grim. I keep my mind away from what I'm doing. I tell myself it's not real. No matter how much detail and effort they've put into the game, it's a lie. It's a way to control me. I won't allow it.

  The game starts flickering more often. The messages they want me to receive are obvious. They want me to go back to the school. I'm supposed to protect the people there. What good is protecting people who don't really exist? If they were real, it would be different. I would fight to save them to the very end. I pay the messages no attention.

  The trapdoor slams open and more rebels storm onto the roof. I keep swinging. Some of the rebels are harder to fight than others. It takes me longer to bring them down. Each time this happens, I lose ground. I have to push hard to gain it back. But there are too many of them. I'm outnumbered a hundred to one. My arm is getting tired. I want to stop. I want to cry. I want to do anything but continue swinging my arm. I resist the urge. Survive, I tell myself. Survive and see Max.

  At one point, I glance down and realize that I am covered in blood. I look as disturbing as the rebels. There's nothing I can do about it. I have to keep fighting. A glittering object is on the ground in front of me. A grenade. I pick it up and toss it into the hole left by the trapdoor. It explodes. I toss another one as the rebels keep climbing. I step back as a man tries to brain me with his hatchet. I catch his next swing with my hatchet and then rip it out of his hand
s with a firm tug. It clatters on the ground behind me. I hit him in the head and he falls.

  I grab his hatchet and stand. I spin to see what enemies are left and who I need to fight next. The roof is covered with bodies. They fan out around me in a semi-circle. Only a corner of the roof is clear of bodies. It's my corner. The sight might symbolize something. I'm too worked up to figure out what.

  I carefully move over to the trapdoor and look down. The interior of the shop is silent. All of the rebels inside the building are dead. I walk over to the edge of the roof next. Bodies litter the awning and ground. I've killed them all.

  Then, a lone figure appears on the street. I recognize the person instantly. It's Max. I jump off the roof and land on the awning. I jump again and hit the street. I run to him. I've survived. He's alive. It's everything I've wanted.

  I throw my arms around him when I reach him, forgetting for a moment that it isn't really Max. I pull away as his arms tighten around me aggressively. He smiles at me ominously. The color fades from his face and his eyes turn mad. He has become like the rebels. He's my enemy as well.

  I take several steps back. I can't kill Max. I don't care if it's an illusion. I can't do it. He raises a pistol. My hands tighten on the hatchets reflexively.

  "You should have submitted. It's not your role to fight," he tells me.

  "So it's the government's?" I ask.

  "Obey, and they will always take care of you," he replies.

  "You mean they'll always enslave me," I say.

  He shrugs and his finger moves on the trigger. I throw my hatchet instinctively. It lands in his chest. His eyes widen and he falls to his knees.

  "What have you done?" he asks me.

  "I don't know," I reply.

  He hits the ground and stares up at me lifelessly. I have a moment of doubt. Would they put the real Max in the game with me? But then he flickers and I see words. Enemy. Forget him. He is not your family. Obey the government. The government is your only family.

  He's part of the trick.

  A second later, more faces I recognize appear down the street. I reach down and pick up Max's pistol. Benny, Ace, the guards, Honey, Karen, Gib, even Riley are all there. They stare at me emotionlessly. I sense hesitation in the game. There are more glitches and pauses. I'm in uncharted waters. What did Willem say? The game is unbeatable? Was he right?

  "Put your weapon down," Honey says.

  "No," I reply.

  A pistol appears in her hands. I hear a low-pitch whine. It starts to increase. I put one hand to my ear but keep my pistol pointed at her.

  "Obey!" she commands.

  The whine increases in intensity.

  "Obey!"

  The game flickers again. The word obey has replaced all the other messages. They have given up on making me content and happy. They just want me to obey.

  I look at Honey angrily. My pent-up aggression and hate have found an outlet. I can finally do what I have wanted to do since day one. I pull the trigger. She gasps as the bullet tears into her chest. Benny cries out. He's not armed, but I don't care. I've seen his evil. I've felt it firsthand. I shoot him as well.

  The surge of satisfaction is immediate. The anger I felt at the school has complete control of my actions. Am I going mad? Why do I feel so full of rage? What's happening to me?

  The others are suddenly holding weapons as well. I look into Gib's eyes and see my destroyed camp. I look into Riley's and see her betrayal. I look into Ace's and see...our kiss. I shake my head. Something's wrong. The anger is growing. I can't control it. I want to make it stop. It's scaring me. I can't pull back.

  They're going to kill me. I can't die. At least not until Max is safe. I inhale deeply, then I fire. I shoot the remaining people before they can react. I shoot all of them except for Ace. He ducks and shoots back. The bullet grazes me. Another trail of blood on my arm. I have no choice. I take a step closer and fire. A dry sob escapes me as the light leaves his eyes.

  There is a shuttering halt as the world around me freezes. I turn a full circle and search for more enemies. Surely there are more. They'll keep throwing people at me until I submit. It's the reason for the game, and I get the feeling no one leaves without being changed by it.

  The air in front of me solidifies into a large pane of black glass. Text is running along the screen. It's moving so fast I can't follow its meaning. It intrigues me. It is not part of the game. I move closer to the screen curiously and see long strings of code. I don't know very much about computers, but I think this might be the code that runs the game.

  I don't know where it comes from, but a strong compulsion grips me as I look at the code. It's an order I cannot deny. I reach out and touch the screen. The code jumps off the screen like a dog released from a very short chain. The movement is almost eager. It circles me and touches my eye. I blink and then I see the text racing through my mind. I don't know how it's possible, but I can't stop it from flowing into my brain. The images are too strong.

  I stand frozen in place for a minute, then the text disappears. I blink in surprise again. Information I shouldn't know is moving in my mind. It's jumbled together and weirdly mixed in with things from my past, but it's there. It's nothing like the brainwashing. It opens my mind and expands what I know. It quietly tells me that I have done the impossible.

  It tells me I have beaten the game.

  Chapter 28