S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND: Season Two Omnibus (Episodes 9-11) (29 page)

“
Jessie?
” Eric called up the stairs. “Come down!”

“Ignore him,” she whispered.

“Jess!”

“Oh, come on,” she whined.

“It's Reggie's mom. She wants to speak to you!”

They broke apart, their eyes wide. Jessie jumped up and grabbed her robe and wrapped it around herself. She could hear Kelly fumbling with his clothes behind her, but she didn't wait for him before hurrying from the room. She flew down the hallway to the stairs. Eric met her halfway. He was already dressed in his NCD uniform.

“You're going to work?” she asked incredulously.

He handed her the house Link and nodded.

“This is Jessie! Missus Casey, is Reggie—?”

“Oh, thank heaven, Jessie.”

There was something in her voice that struck Jessie as odd.

And why is she pinging here?

Eric stood next to her biting his lip, waiting.

“Is he there?” Missus Casey asked. “With you?”

Jessie frowned. “Excuse me? Is who here? Kelly?”

He came stumbling down the steps, his fingers fumbling the strings on his sweat pants. He looked over and Jessie could see the concern in his eyes.

“Reggie,” Missus Casey said. “Have you heard from him? Have you seen him?”

“Um, no. I haven't.” Jessie gave Eric a questioning look and mouthed Reggie's name. He shook his head, shrugged. “I don't understand what—”

“He woke up last night.” Missus Casey sighed, and in that sound Jessie could hear the depth of her despair. “It was just before midnight. I was asleep on the chair but Bob was awake when it happened, standing beside the bed. He said Reggie opened his eyes and tried to get up. The noise woke me and I went right to him, but it was like he couldn't even see me! The nurse had to give him a shot to settle him down. He even ate some food when Bob helped.”

“What's going on?” Kelly whispered. Jessie put her Link on speaker.

“The doctors did another brain scan and didn't see any swelling or damage. They said he was fine so they took out his catheter. They said they were going to move him to another ward. And everything was happening so quickly,” Missus Casey wailed, her words tumbling out faster and faster, as if trying to capture their meaning before it escaped.

“Okay, Missus Casey. It's okay. Just tell me what happened. Did you take him home?”

There was a sob. “No. He went back to sleep. The doctor—”

“Was it Doctor White? A female doctor?”

“What? No. No, it was a man, some young guy. A resident, I think. What was his name, honey?”

They could hear Mister Casey in the background, along with other voices.

“I'm sorry. The police are here, of course, asking questions. I don't know why they're so interested in my Reggie.”

Jessie glanced at Eric, but except for a slight raising of his eyebrows at this, he showed nothing.

“Oh dear, I'm afraid I don't remember the doctor's name.”

“It doesn't matter. Just— What happened? Did he leave on his own? Did someone take him? I don't understand why you're asking if he's over here.”

“They were going to do an implant scan as soon as the machine arrived from Hartford, and he was sleeping, so Bob and I went down to the cafeteria to get something to eat, and when we got back, he wasn't in bed. We didn't think anything of it. We just thought he'd been wheeled off to some other test. But the nurse came in a little while later and asked if Reggie was in the bathroom, because it was time to move him. We looked everywhere, but he's not anywhere here.”

“Are his clothes there?”

“They're gone, along with his shoes, his Link . . . everything.”

“Okay, Missus Casey. He's probably just walking home. Kelly and I will start heading toward the hospital. Are you sure he didn't say anything to—”

“I told you he didn't say anything! Why do you keep asking me that?”

Jessie frowned. Kelly and Eric looked at each other in alarm. They could tell she was lying.

“Maybe he's got amnesia. It's possible what happened yesterday could be from a concussion. Maybe he fell or—”

“It's not a concussion! Christ, I don't even know why I pinged you people. You kids are useless. You don't know anything!”

“Missus Casey? Hello?” Jessie looked up and shook her head. “She disconnected.”

“I'm going to get dressed,” Kelly told her, heading back up the stairs. Jessie turned to follow, but Eric put his hand on her elbow. “I can't help you look for very long. I have to be at work at eight-thirty and—”

“Work? Really? Eric, this is Reggie, remember?”

“I already missed half of yesterday. My boss was angry enough about that.”

Jessie didn't say anything, just stared.

“Look, I'll give you what I can.” He took a deep breath. “I'm sure Reggie's just confused from waking up in the hospital and finding no one there for him. Trust me. By noon he'll be home.”

Jessie pulled away, but not before giving her brother a disapproving look. She started back up the stairs. Kelly passed her on his way down and went to get something to eat.

She found them in the kitchen after she dressed, their heads lowered over the house Link on the table.

“There's two main roads between the hospital and Reggie's,” Eric was saying, glancing up at her and nodding. “I'll drive along this road. Kelly, you and Jessie can take the other.”

“No,” Jessie said. “I'll walk along the creek.”

Eric looked up, confused. “I doubt he'd be down there.”

“It runs parallel to both roads,” Jessie explained. And also—” She traced a line with her finger from the hospital down Yale Drive. A mile past it, she stopped. “He might be going here.”

“Micah's place?” Kelly asked. “Why would he go there?”

“It's where he went the last time he blanked out, the night he ended up here. I don't think it's a coincidence. I think someone meant for him to go there.”

“Someone?”

“Call it a hunch,” Jessie said.

Eric stared at her for a few seconds before shaking his head and shrugging. “Fine. We'll meet up at the bridge in half an hour. Then I'll drive us over to Micah's and we'll take a quick look around there. You guys'll have to walk back.” He grabbed his work bag and headed out to the car.

Kelly pulled Jessie to the side and asked, “What's this all about?”

“It's that gear, Kelly. I think someone hacked it.”

He stared at her for a moment, frowning. “That's not possible.”

“Whether it is or not, I'm checking the creek.”

He stopped her again. “You really think he could be down in that mess? It's all brambles.”

“Yeah, so?”

“What aren't you telling me, Jess?”

She was remembering the dream she'd had over a week before. It had felt so similar to the one which she'd had up in Hartford. Somehow — she couldn't explain how — she'd been with Reggie. She was sure of it.

“I think someone's taken control of his implant,” she told him, confessing the idea that had begun to take form the day before in the hospital. “I think they used the game equipment to do it.”

“He's not connected to
The Game
now,” Kelly countered. “Besides, who would do that? Who
could
?”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Micah? Jessie, he's dead.”

“He had all our implant identifier codes, Kelly.”

“Why would he do it?”

“Revenge.”

“Revenge for being conscripted? You're saying a dead man hacked into Reggie's implant?”

“I don't think he's dead.”

“We saw them reanimate him, Jess.”

“No, Kelly, we saw something that
looked
like a conscription. I think it never happened.”

‡ ‡ ‡

Jessie leapt off the top stair of the back porch and landed hard on the packed earth below. A clump of dead grass grabbed at her ankle and twisted it. Red hot spikes of pain shot up her leg, but they were minor compared to the urgency impelling her forward. She wobbled for a moment, caught her balance, and took another step. Her whole body felt wrong, stiff, achy from abuse and idleness. Running would work her muscles and joints loose again.

She sprinted past the broken picket gate. Eric had erected it to replace the section of fence that had been crushed when a tree fell on it during a storm. The tree had been promptly removed, but the neighborhood association never got around to repairing the hole, and nobody ever complained. Jessie certainly didn't mind. It gave her access to the wilderness behind the house.

She charged past the brambles and plunged through the curtain of vines. Down into the bracken. Down into the relative coolness of the trees, where the rising sun couldn't reach and the dew would remain until midday. The path that she'd taken nearly every day from sixth grade till ninth was barely visible anymore.

How long has it been since I was here last?

At least a year, maybe two. It certainly felt like it'd been only days.

It has.

She slowed her pace and began sweeping her gaze from side to side. Her eyes pierced the shadows beneath the trees, seeking evidence that someone had recently passed this way. Birds rustled in the thickets. Gnats rose in agitated waves, swarming into her eyes and nose, sticking to her hair. The growth was jungle-like over the path, and the worn trail had diminished to a narrow runnel in the dirt. The grass folded over it concealed treacherous roots meant to snag her feet. Leafless branches, brittle in death, snagged at her clothes and hair. The path was rarely used anymore, unless it was by small animals.

The berm rose to her right, swelling higher and then falling nearly away so that as she hurried along it felt like she was riding on a rolling sea. More than once she was forced to detour past a fallen tree, torn from its foundation by the winds, the exposed roots splayed in death like petrified Medusas. Trash and rocks alike had caught in their tangles.

It was exactly as she'd seen in her vision.

She stopped and looked about her, not exactly sure if she'd already passed the small opening to the glade. Now she yearned to hear the bark of that nameless dog, to see it frolicking nearby. But she couldn't remember where the clearing was anymore. Everything now looked the same.

The skin on her neck prickled. She spun around, sure she was being followed, certain she would spy a shadow slipping behind a tree.

Nothing moved, only the birds rustling in their thicket homes, agitated by her passing.

She came to a divide in the trail, one arm pointing toward the creek, the other continuing straight on. This had to be the place. She turned left and into the denser part of the wood.

A few feet in, she stopped. The grass here was trampled.

Her heart was pounding now, smashing its velvet fists against her eardrums. She was choking, unable to breathe in enough air, whimpering at the sight of the broken twigs, proof that someone had forced their way down the trail. She stumbled on, casting her gaze wildly about, searching for—

blood

—any sign of—

The rains will have washed it away!

—her mother.

And fell into the opening through the trees. She squinted into the unexpected brightness.

The ground was still in shade, but white fire blazed from the treetops. Dew dripped from high branches, sprinkling brilliant diamonds to the ground. The glade sparkled.

Shading her eyes, Jessie stepped forward. There, to her right, was the familiar old stump, now just a hump of moss and tiny purple flowers. Ear-shaped fungi protruded from one side. Just like she'd seen.

She spotted the small tunnel-like opening in the brush and headed for it. Not ten feet in, she came to the fallen tree. A whimper rose in her throat. The tree had dropped so recently that mud still clung to its upturned roots.

She peered underneath. A spider was busily repairing a ragged hole in its web, dewdrops dangling from the delicate strands. Jessie found a stick and erased the new snare. The spider dropped into the rotting debris below and disappeared.

On the other side was a small clearing, and it was here that the trail ended. The weeds and ferns had been matted down over an area roughly six feet in diameter, and more bits of trash were scattered about— plastic bottles and food wrappers, soaked bits of clothing. But no other person. No body.

She was here. That's her bra!

Her legs grew weak, and she dropped to her knees, instantly soaking them to the skin. But then she saw what her mind hadn't registered a moment before: the used condoms, the muddy pink Happy Kitty panties with the red hearts, the empty cans of cheap beer. This wasn't a dumping spot for a body, but a private refuge for young lovers.

She stumbled back to her feet and stood and stared at the scene for several minutes without thinking. The shock of not finding what she'd imagined left her dazed, confused. Now she wondered,
Did I want her to be dead?

Snap out of it, Daniels!

A check of the time on her Link told her she'd been gone over twenty minutes. Less than ten minutes to search the rest of the trail and meet up at the bridge. What would she report to the boys?

Nothing. There's nothing to tell.

Hurrying back up the path, then onto the main trail, she kept her eyes and ears peeled for Reggie. But she knew she wouldn't find him. He had never been here. What she'd seen in her vision had never happened. It had all been fabricated.

She began to hear the sound of cars passing over the bridge long before she saw the metal framework and concrete supports. She couldn't see Eric or Kelly.

The trail became scored by other paths, the grass and weeds trodden down in several places. Garbage became more and more prevalent. She stepped over a tire that someone had rolled down the bank and her toe caught the inside edge and she stumbled to her knees.