Assault or Attrition (29 page)

“Maybe,” he
continued, “but if time really
is
speeding up, then
shouldn’t we be doing something about it? Shouldn’t
I
be
doing something?”

“And coming
here was your solution?”

He plunked his
empty beer stein onto the bar and pivoted towards me, and his eyes
fired with an intensity that caused me to lean backward. “Dude, my
life peaked when I
was fifteen years old
. Do you know how
depressing that is? I was IG-Net champion three years running, and
already had millions in the bank.”

“So you were a
teenage millionaire...sounds awful.”

“You don’t get
it,” he continued. “By the time I finished high school I was forced
into retirement. My reflexes were shot...these new kids on the
circuit were
destroying
me. So after I quit playing pro I
spent
years
just sitting around, getting high – and then I
find out I have superhuman abilities. What’s my reaction?
Nothing.
I literally don’t do a single thing with my
powers.

“That’s why the
Schumann Resonance changed everything for me. According to this
scientist, time has sped up
so
fast that twenty-four hours
actually
feels
like sixteen...” McGarrity paused for
dramatic effect, as if waiting for my expression to change.

I didn’t
flinch.

“That’s like, a
third
faster,” he added.

“Wait...” I
dumped a cup of old peanuts onto the bar’s grimy surface and sorted
through them, dividing them into piles. “Yup, your math checks
out.”

“So if I’m
twenty-one,” he continued, “that’s halfway to forty-two. But it’ll
only
feel
like fourteen years to get there. How crazy is
that?”

I nodded in
agreement. “
Something
is definitely crazy.”

“So,” McGarrity
declared, throwing his hands in the air, “I figured, ‘What the
hell, I can’t sit here forever’. I’m twenty-one, and in fourteen
years I’ll be forty – which is
insanely
old. Then I see you
kicking ass on Arena Mode, and it hits me:
this is it
. If I
enter one of these tournaments I can go on a
real
adventure
and use my powers. I can get out of the virtual world and into the
real one – I can finally
do
something.”

I wasn’t sure
if I agreed with his logic, or even remotely followed his line of
thinking, but who was I to argue with inspiration?

McGarrity
circled back around the far side of the bar and re-filled his pint
to the brim, letting the foam pour over the rim and into the
dust-filled sink. “Hell, man – if I die right now, all this will
have been worth it. I fought a giant rock monster. I rode a
manticore through the air and brought a lake down with a slash of a
sword. Who knows what I’ll fight next? And if we make it out, this
is just the first chapter of my story – this is the
beginning
for me.”

In that moment
I realized that as much as I
thought
I hated McGarrity – and
as much as I envied his powers – I truly admired his conviction.
This kid was young, and strong, and radiated with a confidence that
was once as much a part of me as my own skin; and now, approaching
thirty-years-old, I felt like a husk. It was as if I’d been
hollowed out by nothing more than the passage of time, and in the
fleeting years of my twenties, every ounce of hope and enthusiasm
for what my life might have become was methodically gutted, scraped
from my insides and discarded. I’d been eviscerated so gradually
that I never felt it happening.

The tumor that
had been pressing against my brain for most of my life had given me
some incredible gifts. My IQ was off the charts; problem solving,
mathematics, a photographic memory...I could calculate cube roots
faster than a calculator, and recall pi up to twenty thousand
decimal places. But making a simple decision – like getting out of
my recliner and doing something worthwhile with my existence?
Apparently that wasn’t part of the super-genius package.

Who knows what
happened. Maybe the neurons in my hippocampus that controlled
emotional response had been dulled, or were suppressed by the
presence of the tumor. Maybe the mass prevented me from having the
same kind of awakening that would have inspired me, or motivated
me, or spurred me into action. Or maybe due to a chemical imbalance
I was actually
incapable
of feeling the sense of urgency
that everyone else felt.

McGarrity’s
hubris once again reminded me of Kenneth Livitski, and the reckless
behaviour that landed him in a coma. I didn’t want to see another
kid get his life slashed to pieces because he lacked a grip on
reality. Although when I saw McGarrity leap into action without
hesitation, I wasn’t frustrated with his behavior, and I wasn’t
angered by his recklessness – I was actually nostalgic for a time
when I felt young and vital enough to be that careless myself, and
that I never let loose and actually
embraced
it; those years
were squandered as I immersed myself in fictional worlds, avoiding
every possible outlet that could lead to some sort of adventure or
personal growth.

I was a
billionaire, and every cent I had couldn’t buy back that time. I
couldn’t travel back and reclaim the moments that I should have
experienced. Watching McGarrity live out his dream was my epiphany.
I just didn’t know it until now.

Brynja and
Peyton came through the door just as McGarrity took his first swig.
“Aww, did the boys hug and make up?” Brynja said with a
condescending lilt, pouting her lower lip for effect.

“I refuse to
dignify that with a response,” I said flatly.

“We have some
good news,” Peyton replied with a beaming grin. She approached the
bar and dropped a flat, circular device on the surface. It was a
portable com – the first-gen design that projected a flat
two-dimensional screen. “I already tried it out, and it works!”

I couldn’t help
but share her enthusiasm. We hadn’t received any new information
from the surface in quite some time, and the second London unit was
lost in the flood on level two. Without access to holo-forums and
simulcasts we were essentially in the dark. This was our chance to
see who – if anyone – had reached the third level, and what type of
opposition was being mounted at The Fortress.

Flipping open
the com immediately triggered a faded ten-inch screen that
flickered above the bar. I scrolled to the nearest news station
and, as expected, helicopters were hovering around Fortress 23,
affording us a bird’s eye view of the entire surrounding area.

It had been
abandoned.

Some supplies
remained; tents, crates, a few Soviet flags jutting from the snowy
landscape. But there wasn’t a single soldier to be seen. Every
single member of The Red Army was gone, along with their vehicles,
weapons, and – I assumed – their leader, Valeriya Taktarov.

“I smell
bullshit,” Brynja snapped. “This is a Trojan Horse. They’re hiding,
trying to get us to return to the surface.”

I scratched at
the back of my hair, squinting at the low-resolution images
flickering on the screen. “No, I don’t think so. Valeriya had no
way of knowing we’d be watching.”

McGarrity
leaned in to get a better look at the screen. “Maybe they just got
spooked.”

“Law
enforcement?” Peyton guessed.

I shook my
head. “They had enough firepower to take out every cop in the
province. I think it was something bigger.”

And as the
words spilled from my lips a realization set in. There was only one
way that I could suddenly become the proprietor of my own country
in such a short span of time, with no intervention by my lawyers.
And there was only one reason why it would be fast-tracked to
today, of all days. It was no coincidence.

I stood so fast
the chair flew out from beneath me. “They’re going to nuke The
Fortress.”

“
Nuke
?”
Brynja shouted? “Who’s gonna do it – America? Won’t Canada frown
upon that? Being nuked?”

“They won’t be
bombing Canada,” I explained. “The land being hit is now a
sovereign nation – it’s
my
country. No one gets their toes
stepped on, and no treaties are violated.”

“Why would they
do that?” Peyton blurted out, wild and panicked. “This is
insane!”

“Not really,”
McGarrity said as he flipped through the simulcast stations. Tokyo,
Moscow, Cape Town, Berlin...one city after another was falling to
looting and riots. The wildfire that began on America’s East coast
had spread throughout the world, and every major city was now
engulfed in flames. “If Mox gets vaporized it might calm things
down.”

Valeriya’s
influence continued to embolden her followers, and their numbers
were only growing; based on the simulcast footage, it was becoming
apparent that law enforcement would be unable to contain the sheer
number of protestors in most urban areas, leading to widespread
chaos (and possibly a full-scale revolution in areas where the
local population was especially well-armed – the ultimate doomsday
scenario for any established government). The empty promise of
Russia’s Son rising from the ashes would remain unfulfilled in the
event of my death, and the US government knew this as well as I
did; angering Valeriya’s followers was the best way to turn the
tide.

It was a
no-lose scenario: ridding the world of The God Slayer was their
best chance at quelling the violence, and returning things to the
status quo.

Brynja leaped
to her feet and motioned towards the exit. “Isn’t this usually the
part where someone says ‘Let’s get the fuck out of here?’”

“We’re almost
at the tunnel,” I said. “If we hurry we might be able to escape the
blast zone.”

With a few long
strides I sailed across the bar and flung open the door. Peyton,
Brynja and McGarrity followed closely behind as I sprinted into the
street, where we were came face-to-face with a woman. A slender,
serpentine figure with flowing raven hair and a matching dress. I
caught a brief glimpse of her features, but they quickly faded from
my memory...because everything I’d seen faded away when I glimpsed
her eyes. Her dark, chaotic eyes that dragged me into an endless
void.

And in that
moment, the threat of a nuclear strike became the least of my
concerns.

“
I would
tell you my name,” the woman said in a low, otherworldly voice,
“but you already know it.”

I nodded
without averting my gaze. I couldn’t have looked away if I’d wanted
to.

Her eyes
trailed over to my friends, who stood frozen behind me. “You may
have a moment with them.”

“A moment to
what?” Peyton shouted.

I turned and
placed my hands on her shoulders. “To say goodbye.”

“No, no, no,”
she pleaded. “I need more time. I can’t...it’s too fast. This is
too much...”

“You’re the
strongest person I know,” I whispered. “And time is something I
can’t give you. But no matter what happens next, I know you’ll make
it out. Lead them to the tunnel. Don’t wait for me.”

Peyton was
incredulous. “Don’t wait? Have you lost your mind?”

The Nightmare
had given me an ultimatum; she burned it into my mind with a single
glance. “If I don’t face her alone, right now, she’ll take all of
us. This way you can get a head start and find the exit. Before...”
I trailed off, opting not to mention the volley of nuclear weapons
that were probably en route to this location, poised to bury the
entire Spiral under a billion tons of radioactive steel.

Peyton bit down
on her lip and took a deep breath, exhaling through her nose. She
blinked slowly. When her eyes opened they were infused with a new
sense of resolve. “Fight her,” she said. “With
everything
you have. You can do this.”

Brynja gave me
a reassuring nod and tugged gently on Peyton’s arm. They both knew
it was time, and precious moments were ticking away; moments we
couldn’t to squander.

“I won’t make
you say it,” Peyton said, the words catching in her throat. “But,
if you were
ever
—”

“Since the
moment I met you,” I interrupted. “and every moment
afterwards.”

The next few
seconds were a blur, and my memories began to fragment. I remember
a quick kiss from Peyton, and then swirling...I was tumbling
through the vacuum of space, plummeting towards nowhere at
incredible speed. I didn’t realize until later that I had been
standing completely still. My feet were planted on the ground while
an egg formed around me, massive and expanding. It’s shell was
opaque, all-consuming...the darkness swarmed in and swallowed me
whole.

And then,
without the aid of any light source, she illuminated before me. The
Nightmare – Grace Weaving. Whomever or whatever she was, her
superhuman ability had never been fully revealed or explained; even
those who witnessed her attacks were left with no clear memory of
what she’s done. Oddly, in that moment, it was my curiosity that
filled my mind more than concern.