Empty Streets (11 page)

They stared at each other. Eri could feel a torrent of emotions poking at the numbness that had overtaken her when Ezra died. She didn't want to feel them.

Eri rubbed her eyes in exhaustion. "Look, I will survive. I am pretty sure, anyways. Now, let's talk about this project. See this part?" Eri encircled a large part of her laptop screen with her finger. "I have a question about it. Specifically, this sentence." She dotted the middle of the screen with her finger.

Bodhi saw it, the circle with the dot, and nodded. They would need to meet outside of the Sims to have any real conversation. He would have to wait.

"Okay. Your question?" he asked.

"Never mind…looks like I will just figure it out later." Her shoulders drooped with fatigue.

She didn't react as he put an arm around her shoulders, the distant warmth that came with simulated touching providing some comfort. She rested her head against his shoulder. Bodhi understood, even from their brief conversation, that losing Ezra could be more than Eri could handle, that it could permanently change her.

She wasn't sure it hadn't.

* * * *

Eri was less interested in being careful than she had been previously. She changed her clothes, not having slept at all in almost twenty-four hours, and maneuvered behind the heavy, cumbersome tapestry. She felt along the wall for the corner of the window, where the tape was puckered intentionally for easy removal. She touched the tape, losing herself for a second in its simple texture. She wondered if Ezra had felt textures and seen shapes and imagined potential and possibilities for beauty and expression that he could not realize. She wondered if his heart had broken out of frustration and unspoken desires.

She ripped the tape back unceremoniously. She knew her parents would not get out of bed, even if she broke open the front door and left it banging in the wind. She had seen the deliveries from the street cleaners that had come during the days after Ezra's death. Pills and liquids that created zombies out of her parents, zombies that slept a lot and ate very little and didn't acknowledge other human beings at all.

The tarp fell away from the window and Eri affixed the rope she had hidden to her waist and to the window. Impatience and irritation tainted her movements, small outlets that allowed the anger coursing through her body to seep out. She opened the window and slipped soundlessly out into the night.

She disentangled herself from the rope, discarding it and silently walking out of the grass to the dark road. The mugginess of early October was transitioning into the drier air that came with winter. She had read once that there used to be four seasons, not two, and there were brief months of coolness after summer and warmth after winter. Eri was uncertain what that meant. She did know, though, that in another month it would be too cold for her to go outside at all. She wondered what Bodhi did during the iciness of winter.

The warm, dry breeze smoothed her hair back from her forehead. The sky was heavy and dark with clouds. Eri stood perfectly still in the middle of the street, closing her eyes and feeling the air and the warm pavement and the pressure of the atmosphere. She strained her ears to hear anything at all, and the hum of electricity encircled her. She'd never noticed that she could hear the energy being used by the hundreds of Sims machines throughout this part of town.

She opened her eyes and saw a faint glow in the distance. The factories. There was a dense unfamiliarity to the air, which made her squint her eyes and reach out her hands. Fog. She shut her eyes again and imagined her body disintegrating into a million little pieces of air, blending and fading into the fog.

"I can hear you," she whispered.

"Good," Bodhi replied. "You are getting better at this."

"At what?" She peered into the dark fog, trying to see him. He remained invisible.

"Being alive in a real world," he said, close to her. She jumped at his proximity and was impressed with his stealth.

"I don't feel alive. I don't know what is real anymore," Eri said.

He appeared in front of her, barely a silhouette in the blackness. Arms at his sides, he did not thrust a hug upon her as he had earlier. She was glad.

"You're angry," he stated.

Anger sizzled insider her, hidden behind her thin-lipped, defiant expression, seeping its way into the tense muscles of her shoulders and the strong grip of her finger tips. "Yes," she affirmed.

"Do you want to talk?" Bodhi asked.

"As opposed to what?" Her sarcasm worked to increase the tension between them. It felt ugly, even to her. "I'm sorry. I don't know, honestly…I don't know anything right now." Her shoulders slumped.

Bodhi breathed out slowly, thinking. He reached out, pulling at her firmly crossed arms until she relaxed them and gave him her hand. He tugged lightly until she walked after him. It had rained that evening, the wetness lingering in the confines of the narrow alley. Bodhi placed Eri's hands on a metal rung. She wondered how he was able to maneuver so well in the darkness.

She climbed, faster than the first time, and he kept pace with her. When she reached the top, she pressed her upper body against the building and pushed herself up and over the edge in one smooth movement.

Sitting on the roof, she blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust enough for her to see. Other than a stray reflection of light, she could see nothing. She pushed the panic in her chest down, and waited. The greys separated from the blacks and she could at least see faint outlines around her.

"Why is it so dark tonight?" she asked. She was surprised at how loud and unfamiliar her voice sounded. The thickness of the air bounced her question back at her.

"Clouds and fog. What little light there is gets trapped within the water molecules in the air, or is dispersed so thinly that our eyes can't pick it up."

She walked carefully to a small concrete step and sat down, feeling safe in the darkness that enveloped her. Bodhi sat down opposite her. He dug his small flashlight out of his pocket and placed it on the ground between them, turning it on. The air around them became faintly illuminated with blue light.

"I-," he started.

"Look," she began.

They stared at each other. She wanted to look away from the intense curiosity of his eyes, from the questions and fears she could tell lurked in his mind. He drew her in with an odd dynamic of intense passion and sincere worry. She broke her gaze away from his and stared down at the blue light.

He cleared his throat. "The good news is there is pretty much no way we could get caught tonight. The helicopters couldn't make us out through all this fog and the street cleaners don't drive when visibility is this low. The bad news is we'll probably get rained on."

Eri shrugged. "Rain is okay." She cleared her throat. "Look, I know you want me to talk to you. I just don't know what to say. You're right, I am angry. I'm numb and in a strange state of disbelief. I don't know how to live in a world where people's deaths are written off like his. And maybe there are hundreds or thousands of deaths like Ezra's, but we wouldn't know because we don't talk about it or understand it. It's like their lives were for nothing, their existence nothing, but filling a seat in some stupid simulated game."

Her breath came in short gasps as her anger turned to sadness and fear. She hugged her knees, willing her breaths to even out.

Bodhi watched her fight her feelings; she cocooned herself, stared at the blue lamp and took even breaths. He knew that feeling. Fear and anger, intertwined tightly, slithering into every thought. He felt anger, too, but unlike hers, which shot out of her eyes and fingers and mouth like fire, his simmered and bubbled below his skin.

"Eri, I don't know what you think I am doing out here, exactly…but it isn't just having fun. I spend most of my days trying to find information. There are libraries and schools and businesses that have been sealed and abandoned. I sift through it all, piece by piece, hoping to reconstruct the story of how we got here. Hoping to find a way to bring it all down. It isn't right, Eri, the way we live our lives. This isolation and routine. Our souls crave community and creativity. This all needs to end, not just the Sims. And I'm running out of time."

She nodded. Once they graduated, it would be almost impossible for him to go outside. He would have a job and a timecard. It would be different.

"It's just not possible," she said.

He shook his head. "I have worked for years. Zare worked years. We are not the only ones who have tried to poke a hole in it all, to weaken the fabric that binds us to this rote existence. We know there is more out there. And there are more people who know that than just you and me…But I don't know how to move forward. How do we become organized? How do we make a difference? Because right now, we are easy targets, getting picked off through heat sensing technology."

Eri turned over his words and decided to commit to the conversation. "Could we find software that would allow us to communicate through the Sims without The People knowing?"

"I have looked into that. I can't figure it out. There isn't a way to find people like us, let alone communicate with them through the Sims. And since we can't connect, we can't create a meeting location."

Eri nodded. "So…is it like this for everyone? Like, are the Sims the only way people communicate?"

Bodhi snorted. "Yeah, right. Take my family, for example. We live in a real house, not an apartment, and have access to water and electricity at will. I wouldn't say things are the same for everyone for anything."

Eri's jaw dropped with shock. "That's why you always smell like soap!" She glared at him accusingly.

"It isn't like I asked for it!" Bodhi responded defensively. "My parents work for the government and are compensated with good benefits. I didn't say I thought it was right. But I can see, from my rooftop, a world very different from this one, north of here on the lake. There are giant houses and green grass and temperature controlled pools. And I see people, outside, talking leisurely as they ride around on these little carts. I have even seen a car or two enter into the gates of the community. I bet the farther north you go, the more communities like that there are. I can only guess that a large portion of our resources are consumed by that world and if they are able to maintain that life by keeping the rest of us literally in the dark…why wouldn't they?"

Eri blinked a few times, unable to comprehend what he was telling her. People went outside? And drove cars? "How can they go outside? And what does that have to do with the Sims? How do the Sims help them maintain that life?"

Bodhi sighed, defeated. "I don't know about the outside thing. I'm guessing they just have access to unlimited sunscreen. But think about it, we are segregated from birth by what we are able to afford with the Sims hardware and software. There is no chance any of us will end up mixing with any of them in the real world. They are able to purchase the best of everything, so everyone in their Sims classes are just like them. They do the best on achievement tests because they pay for the answers. They are placed into the highest paying jobs, including a majority of the political ones. And they are the only ones who can afford to run for office when we do have legitimate elections."

Eri let what he said swim around in her mind. How hopeless it sounded. "So, is this why you always look a little sad? You don't see a way out? Like, you get to spend all this time thinking and learning and reading, but it might, in the end, be for nothing?"

"Yes." He nodded one time, not making eye contact with her. "Yes, that's it exactly."

She nodded in return, feeling a piece of his helplessness transfer from him to her. She wanted to have a plan, to find a way to disrupt it all, but the enormity of it muted her passion as well as her anger. Apathy would be so much easier. She was intrigued that Bodhi hadn't given up.

Eri stood. She moved to Bodhi, close enough she could see him face to face, eye to eye.

"I don't want Ezra's death to paralyze me. We can figure this out. Nothing in this world has ever been done that wasn't first just a thought."

Bodhi's face tightened into a million emotions. "You barely know me, Eri. Committing to this kind of change, this work, is a serious commitment. You sure?" He smiled a serious smile.

"You scared I'll rat you out?" One corner of her mouth twitched toward a smile.

"No. That you'll change your mind."

"About wanting to make a difference?" Eri asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"No," Bodhi shook his head, hesitating. "No, that you will change your mind about me."

Eri stared at him, letting the air thicken with his discomfort.

"I knew the first time I saw you. Outside. You felt important to me. You still do." She looked into the fog, lost in its depths, reliving the first time she met him. It was both yesterday and years ago. She returned her eyes to his, watching him watch her. "I don't think we have time to walk lightly around this. Are you in? With me?"

Bodhi took a deep breath. "This is hard, Eri. I introduced you to this world. I could have just stayed away from you, but I couldn't and now you have that look. I've seen it, in Zare's eyes, in my mom's eyes. But you should know we have a miniscule chance of success, or survival if we take the risks necessary. And a better chance of losing everything."

She shrugged in response. "What is this life, if not for the risks we take to make it better? And what is the point of making it better for one person when we could make it better for thousands of people? Someone has to wake them up. We should at least try."

"Eri," Bodhi said. "I know you feel connected to this in a different way because of Ezra. I respect that. I need someone to help me plan, who can see the pieces and put them together. You're perfect, in every way, to be a part of this."

"So, why don't we-," she started.

"Because I have been in love with you since we were ten and I don't want to lose you. I'm selfish. You're my weakness."

Bodhi blinked at his own words. He looked down, uncomfortable and vulnerable, and in the blue light she could see the curl of his hair and the strength of his shoulders and she wondered at the complexity of him.