Mind Games (21 page)

I grasp it and stagger down the steps. Will myself to move quietly, and hide round the top of the stairs. I should be out of sight here.

Slow careful movements sound below me, and I feel sick. I could vomit on him; that might gross him out enough to make him run away. It’s hot, I know it is, but I’m cold, bone cold, and clammy.

Hands gripped tight to wood.

Step. Creak, below.

I can do this, can’t I? It’s just timing and luck.

Another step. He’s nearly here—

I jump around and swing the piece of wood.

But I have no timing, and no luck. He catches it easily in one hand, then throws it down the stairs and laughs.

‘What have we here?’ he says.

I shrug.
I need to delay him
. ‘Just me.’

He has a knife in one hand, a smile on his face. ‘It’s the blood that called me to you, you see. I love it: the smell, the feel, the taste. Only in VeeDubs, don’t look so shocked. I’m not a monster, just a gamer.’ He hefts the knife in his other hand. ‘But why are you up here?’

‘Hiding.’

He shakes his head. ‘So predictable. But it’s a rubbish place to hide. No exit. No way to escape.’ He comes closer. ‘And you: you’re half dead already. Not so much fun. Still. I’ll have to make do, somehow.’

I wish I wasn’t here. I wish I was
anywhere
else. I wish none of this existed, especially not his eyes, his knife, a knife that is closer now. I’m too weak from blood loss, from fear. There is nothing left to resist the knife. I think of unplugging but even that is too difficult, too remote. My body back in the PIP can’t move any more than this one can.

The blade touches my skin. Not at my neck. Nothing quick. It caresses my arm, flat at first, then it bites. More red wells up on skin: beads; a trickle. Pain, but remote, as if I’m pulling away from it. And then—

Things happen. All at once.

There is a massive explosion. Not here, no – the bridge?

Fury on Blood’s face as he turns away, turns to the sound.

But most of all there is silver, a rush of beautiful, glorious silver. And a door. I fall through the door, and into the void.

34

I’m warm now. The void holds me close, the lights whistle past. The wind buffets my hair, my body, as if saying
wake up
, but I want to sleep.

Why am I so sleepy?

I try to focus, but all I can see are beads. Silver beads, with swirls of intricate carving. Floating in the void like spots in front of my eyes. I blink, but they’re still there.

Warm. Sleepy…

Wet. Blood, is that it? Draining life away.

Stop. Stop the blood.
Please
…

Silver from the void gathers all around me, then on my leg and arm. It feels warm.

Time passes. I don’t know how long, but slowly, gradually, things stop swirling. I come back to myself.

I sit up.

Something glints next to me, and I frown. A knife. Blood’s knife? It’s smeared with dark red. Is that my blood from when he cut my arm? Both my arm and leg are whole now, but there is a sheen of silver on my skin.

Was it escape code that brought me here – does this mean I died in the game?

I shake my head. If that happened, I should have gone straight to the virtual meeting place. I think I was close to dying. But I didn’t die.

How did I get here? And apart from how, that was a VeeDub game world. It might have been programmed to hurt when you get hurt, but it was still
virtual
. As soon as I left it, I should have been all right.

But I wasn’t, was I?

Back in the PIP, I reach to check my leg like I did before. It’s not bleeding; there is no wound.

Did I imagine that before?

What the hell is going on here?

Sparky. Is she all right? When I left, Blood was furious. The bridge had blown up. She was there, alone.

And Marina; the others.

I have to go back to that place, don’t I?

Silver coalesces in front of me. A sheet of it forms a door, a handle.

Blood’s knife is there on the ground. I could take it with me; it might be useful. Instead I pick it up and throw it as far as I can into the void.

A deep breath. I’m shaking; I want to run.

I reach out a hand, and open the door. I stand there, still in the void, door open, looking through.

It’s the tower, on the stairs. Just where I was when I left before.

I can’t see anyone.

If Blood…if he killed Sparky, he’d have left, wouldn’t he? She’d still be there. He wouldn’t be. I have to check.

I force myself through the door. It shuts and vanishes behind me.

There’s blood on the steps where I’d been lying before. I step over it and into the clock tower room. It’s dark now, night, but there is moonlight. No sign of Sparky, and I swell with relief. Step cautiously forwards and peer out into the night.

That’s when I see her.

A broken body on the ground far below.

I stare, look away, then look back again. She’s still there.

It’s like a chess game, she said. It’s not real, she said. It might have been different for me, because I’m different, right?

Panic is swelling up inside, and I start to shake.

This isn’t real
. I chant the words over and over again as I force myself down the tower stairs. Every step I take, I repeat:
This isn’t real
.

Another step gives way but this time I spring back, don’t fall. It’s real enough that I nearly bled to death for stepping on a rotten step on the way up; I take more care.

Outside now, the air isn’t any better. It still smells foul.

I have to check, don’t I? I hesitate, walk over to Sparky, but don’t have to go much further. Even in moonlight she is very clearly dead.
This isn’t real
. It looks real, final, over.
This isn’t real
.

What now? Find Marina and the others. If they’re still alive. But how?

The next street loops down to the river. That is where she told them to go, and to set a lookout. But going by the light, that was hours ago. Would they still be waiting, or have they given up?

I creep down the street. Ducking down, hugging buildings, cars. My heart is thudding so loud I’m convinced if Blood is out here, he’ll hear it, that he’ll taste the fear thundering through my veins.

But I reach the end of the road. It’s a dead end by the river; the water is sick, foul. A mist rises from it like blood.

I stumble backwards.

‘Luna?’ A whisper.

I spin round.

‘Marina! Thank God.’

‘They thought I was mad for still waiting. Where’s Sparky?’

‘She’s…she’s…’ I shake my head.

‘OK. That’s only one of us gone; the rest of us are still together. The bridge blew – how many went with it?’

‘I don’t know, I couldn’t see. One of them died as Sparky booby-trapped the door, but then Blood came up the tower. And—’ I hesitate. ‘I tried to delay him. She’d said they were approaching the bridge, but I don’t know for sure if they made it.’

‘You got away from Blood? Impressed.’ She frowns. ‘So maybe no one was on the bridge, and she blew it while she still could instead of when they got on it.’

The night passes. We decide to stay on the same road until morning, but in two groups. Marina and I are together in a shed in a garden that is mostly intact. The other three hide over the road in a half-destroyed house. I’m exhausted; I need to sleep, desperately.

‘Don’t you get tired?’ I ask.

Marina looks at me curiously. ‘No. We’re hooked up and asleep back in the PIPs, remember? You don’t look so good.’

It’s not just exhaustion, it’s ANDs. They’re wearing off. Back in the PIP I wriggle around, careful to not break the neural connection. There are ANDs in my pocket. I reach down and find them, manage to chew some dry and swallow without moving my head too much. Slowly I start to feel less like vomiting on her. I close my eyes to see if I can sleep, but no: is it the waiting, the uncertainty? Or maybe it is just impossible to sleep when I’m half here, half with my body.

The sun starts to come up, but the sky is a dirty smudge.

‘Luna, what do you make of this?’ Marina is standing in the door, pointing to a cloud that seems to be almost oozing towards us.

I cough. The air is worse than before; there is an unpleasant, metallic smell. Familiar, yet what is it?

‘Blood. It’s blood!’ I say

Marina looks at me. ‘Run!’ We bolt out of the shed and through the house to the street; Marina throws a rock at the window where the others are hiding. ‘Run!’ she yells. They stumble out, see the cloud that is growing, starting to fill the sky, and run.

I glance back; it’s moving faster.

Did he wait until daylight so we could see his creation? It’s impressive. Different colours of blood: bright red, smudges of brown, like dried blood, fading to black.

It reaches one of the boys behind us first. He screams, drops to the ground.

Any thought of being quiet now gone, we run blindly up the road, and then we see him. Blood. He’s wearing a gas mask, a protective suit from head to toe. The cloud is gaining on us, faster than we can run.

Marina falls; I pull her up but she gasps with pain. A twisted ankle? ‘Go without me.’ She looks back. ‘It’s just us left now.’

‘No!’ I try to help her walk, but fingers of red are close, closer. Reaching for us, and then—

RRRRRing!

A bell?

The red cloud disappears. The world disappears.

35

Sparky and I are stretched out on towels on the beach, and not just any beach: it is seriously the most beautiful sandy cove I’ve even seen: our team prize for winning the combat world. Turns out the rest of Blood’s team died on the bridge, so there were two left on our team and only one on his when the time was up. Marina’s in the sea, doing the mermaid thing, and the others are surfing.

Sparky lifts herself up on her elbows. ‘You have to tell me. How’d you get away from Blood?’

‘Honest answer? No idea.’

She raises an eyebrow. ‘Hmmph. Strangely enough, that’s pretty much what he said. So keep your secrets, then.’

‘And you, how’d you end up over the side of the tower?’

She shrugs, sheepish. ‘You saw my body?’

I nod.

‘Not proud to say this, but I jumped. Blood came howling up the stairs for me, said you vanished and he was going to have all his fun with me. Jumping seemed like the best plan.’ She frowns. ‘Are you OK? You don’t look so good.’

‘Fine. Tired. And I know! I’m not supposed to be tired here.’

I reach out back in the PIP to have more ANDs. How long can I keep this up? I feel
stretched
. I close my eyes again, soaking the beautiful sunshine into my skin. I long for sleep, but somehow can’t with my body awake in the PIP. I long to unplug, but how can I with everybody watching?

There are footsteps. Echoing, like on a hard floor. I jump, sit up, and look around. Sparky has gone for a swim with the others. I’m alone, no one is nearby, and there is no hard floor for footsteps to sound on even if there were.

Then I hear a creak; a door.

It’s in the PIP.

I open my eyes to a slit. Dr Rafferty? He’s checking my life support screens. Whistling to himself, taking notes on a tablet. I will myself to be still. He starts to turn towards me and I close my eyes. A moment later there are more footsteps, the sounds of a door opening, shutting. I open my eyes. I’m alone in the PIP; I’m alone on the beach.

Everything is weird and wired.

Playtime over, Blood’s team eventually join us in the beach world. Now we’re instructed to combine what we love with what we fear. So Marina becomes a flying fish – well, sort of a mermaid, but with wings – soaring out of the water. First with fear, then joy.

Sparky is making a giant electrical monster – interesting.

Blood’s fear appears to be a giant soft toy teddy bear, but the teddy is also a vampire – kind of a Count Cuddles.

I play around with ideas – of fears, and loves – and all I can come up with is a giant spider with Jason’s face. Creepy-weird, but more funny than scary. And even with that I need Marina’s help to make it, since even if silver doors seem to appear magically to save me at awkward moments, I can’t code stuff. But I can’t focus on anything long enough to come up with a strong feeling one way or the other.

Things go vague. I can see lips moving, know they are talking to me, but I can’t hear what people are saying. Marina shakes me a little, splashes me with her wings. She takes me for a spin across the bright blue cove.

‘What’s wrong, Luna?’

‘I don’t know. I’m losing it.’ I struggle to hold onto her, but give up and spill into the water and sputter in the waves. It’d be so nice to lie still, to float away…

She drags me out onto the beach. Frowning. ‘Something’s not right with you.’

‘Tell me something I don’t know.’

We move on to another world: can it really be my fifth?
Five is for travel and adventure
. Too right.
Instability, change and unpredictability
. That, too.

More wired. More weirdness…

I’m unplugged. I didn’t do it. I blink wearily, eyelids like sandpaper. It’s Dr Rafferty? I swallow. ‘What’s up?’ I say, a whisper the most I can manage.

‘You tell me.’

I shake my head, thoughts thick and heavy like syrup. Did he emergency unplug me?

‘You’re not well, are you? Poor Luna.’ He leans in close. ‘Would you like us to make you better? Make it so you don’t have to take ANDs any more, and so you can keep up with your friends in virtual?’

I nod. He knows about the ANDs? Tears are slipping out of my eyes. ‘I’m dying; I know I am. Nothing is right.’

‘I can help you, Luna. An Implant is all you need to fix everything.’

‘OK,’ I whisper.

He opens a screen on a tablet. Takes my thumbprint; records my voice consent.

He’ll fix me, and then I can sleep.

I’m moving; they’re moving me. There’s a pinprick in my arm.

Everything goes dark and blissful.

There is no truth. There is only perception.

Gustave Flaubert