“Why were you sitting so close to middle seat!?”
Though, sometimes we do blame recent amputees, but that’s all just a part of being human.
We peeled out of the alleyway doing at least sixty, but that didn’t stop Frank from screaming.
“Couldn’t you have just like snapped your fingers and jammed his gun or something!?” the short man practically wept as both he and Benny tried to stop the bleeding from his mutilated stump.
“That’s not how Code Jumpers work,” fun fact, that’s exactly how Code Jumpers work, “just… you do your job and let me do mine. Don, how’s our tail doin’?”
Callomezi hesitated to answer after looking behind us, an expression of genuine fear smothering the typical confident look the Don normally had, “It’s uh… Let’s just say it’s less than ideal.”
Taking his word for it, I started weighing up the dangers of messing around with the code too much and the definite and severe beating I would receive if I just bailed on Callomezi and his men.
The logical solution was to let Quinn pull me to safety, do my best to explain why I’d been blacklisted to Hugo, and take the ass kicking that came along with that.
“Logical schmogical…” I muttered to myself before snapping my fingers.
There were a few second’s delay before the first cacophonous thunder clap rippled through the air, vibrating the frame of the car and everyone in it as a powerful storm touched down over the city.
“Should we really be driving in this?” the Don asked as the song finally finished and bullet-like rain started slamming the roof and windshield, splashing water all over the dash.
“What? Uh, yeah, yeah, no. Look, we’ll be fine, but that chopper definitely won’t be flying in this. Is there a towel back there or… ugh, Goddamn it…” I muttered before snapping my fingers and fixing the windshield.
“Being a tad liberal changing the code, aren’t you?” Quinn asked as if I needed reminding.
“Not helping.” I seethed.
“If you need help, I can pull you out.”
“No, just… How long until people start realizing there’s something fishy with the code?”
Quinn seemed to step out for a moment, a very real feeling that something was missing from my brain spreading over me, and then she returned with a sigh, “I bring good news, and I bring bad news.”
I wanted to demand the bad news first as I usually did, but an APC barreling up my ass causing me to almost spin out made me feel like I could use something to cheer me up if only to make it so things didn’t seem so hopeless.
“Good first!” I groaned as I struggled to keep the car on the road, the unexpected ramming almost making me spin out.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about hacking anymore.”
And just like that I knew what the bad news was.
“How lon-”
“They’ve been looking for you for nineteen seconds now.” Quinn interrupted, “There’s no shame in letting these people respawn, I’m sure Hugo’ll understand.”
“I’m glad you’re so confident.” I grunted, a gust of wind scooping up under the front of the car making me feel like I was about to get blown off the road, “I, on the other hand, am a realist.”
One of the cops must’ve gotten a message out to the game’s automated security system, or maybe I’d just been unlucky enough to end up in a part of the server that was being subject to a random check, either way meant that I had all of about two minutes before I was basically disintegrated into a few lines of code and summarily deleted by the anti-cheat engine.
I checked my rearview mirror, saw that the cops had switched over to high beams and were doing a good job of sticking with us, and decided that it was time to give up on subtlety, “Fuck it.”
“What was tha-” Callomezi managed to get out right before I snapped my fingers once more, making Benny’s arm grow back, my classic steering wheel turn into one that looked like it should hook up to a console from the early noughties, and spawned a tornado a few hundred feet ahead of us in the middle of the four-lane road.
As I said, I was done restraining myself.
“What are you doin’?” Frank asked concernedly as I flicked a switch that was just above my right thumb.
I did my best not to stare as the trunk transformed into a powerful thruster that would by no means work anywhere but in Re.Gen, “I’m saving our asses, one way or another, you may want to put on your seatbelt.”
As you can probably guess, I’m not really the ‘sit around until everyone’s nice and safe’ type of guy, but Frank and Benny didn’t know that.
The telltale sound of a seatbelt being pulled across someone’s chest had barely started before I’d pushed the two red buttons near the center of the wheel, which had come into view once I’d flicked the switch, igniting the engine and sending us blasting toward the tornado at breakneck speeds.
I have to admit, even I was freaked out as my speedometer’s needle pushed against the edge of its limit, my brain crawling to the back of my skull as we got within a hundred feet of the tornado and the car started to lift off.
It was at around that point that the barely conscious and still clearly in shock Benny started chanting “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening…” as I continued to drive full speed into the tornado where, upon impact with the horror of wind and dirt, lifted us into the air.
“This shouldn’t be happening,” Quinn clarified, “I mean honestly, driving around the edge of a tornado? What made you think of something so insane?”
I shrugged as best as I could and smiled, “Guess I’m just creative like that.” I said proudly before punching the green button where the horn once was.
There was moment where I was sure that something had gone wrong, but then the wings that I’d been expecting sprouted from the doors, pulling us away from the tornado and shooting us off over the buildings and toward the safety of the desert.
“This is your captain speaking,” I announced in my most piloty voice, “below us and to our right you should see one of the best theatres this side of the virtual border, and to our left an army of police officers trying to decide whether or not they should follow us into the tornado.”
“Eddie,” Callomezi said with a laugh before clapping me on the shoulder, “you are one crazy son of a bitch. You’re sure you’d never consider stayin’ down here full-time?”
“Respectfully, no way. Too long down here and everything starts to taste like pennies and regret.”
“Ha, fair enough.” came the Don’s undeniably disappointed reply, “Anyway, you know where the safe house is, right?”
“Forty seconds.” Quinn warned.
I didn’t like it, the idea of landing in the middle of nowhere and letting Callomezi and his crew fend for themselves, but I was running out of options.
“Look, I’ve gotta…” I trailed off, hoping that I really wouldn’t have to finish the sentence.
The Don regarded me with confusion for a few seconds, going as far as to tilt his head as if to coax an explanation out of me, and then a look of realization washed over him, “Ah, yeah… S’pose it’d probably be best if you got outta here after all… that.”
“Thanks for understanding.” I said with a genuine smile as Quinn gave me my thirty-second warning, “It’s been a pleasure doin’ business with you.”
Callomezi looked in the backseat where I was sure his crew had thrown up at least twice, “Heh, same here. Now hurry up and land this thing, I doubt I’m gonna be able to do it myself.”
“Not a problem.” I replied with an appreciative nod.
‘Now…’ I thought to myself, doing my best to ignore that Quinn was most definitely listening in, ‘how to land…’
WAKING UP
I’m proud to announce that I did successfully manage to land the plane-car, despite a pretty massive updraft when I came in…
Alright, so it was a rock, sue me.
Anyway, after surviving the chaos that
I’d wreaked upon Re.Gen it was time to wake up, and let me just say that waking up from a game that most people ‘die’ to get into isn’t exactly the most pleasant of experiences.
On the more obvious end of the scale, you lose your AI, which is like losing a sense that you didn’t even know you had, but then there’s the other crap.
What other crap you may ask? Well, let’s find out, together.
Yeah, that was weird for me too.
Onward!
The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was how slow the fan was moving, its shiny grey blades making a full rotation at what seemed like every three seconds to me as I fought the urge to lurch upward, a mistake I’d made in the past which had resulted in hurting my back rather horribly.
“One.” I whispered slowly, my voice sounding far deeper than normal being a good sign that I wasn’t about to destroy my vocal chords, “Two.” I said as I gently sat up on my comfy red couch, “Three.”
I lingered on that ‘three’ a while, knowing that as soon as I did the motion I had associated with that number I’d be accepting the hard truth that I was awake, meaning I’d have to deal with all the shortcomings of the dreaded real world.
“Deep breath…” I muttered weakly before planting my hands beside each of my thighs, “Three.”
With one, steady motion, I swiveled and held myself that way for a while, staring at my bare left foot for a few seconds before looking over to where the right one had once been.
It never got easier, coming back and seeing that stump where a knee should’ve ended.
“Come on big guy, you’ve got this.”
I’m not going to lie, I was genuinely fighting off tears for a moment there, but as soon as my left foot touched the carpeted floor and what was left of my other leg hit cold metal I perked right up.
“Take your time,” I said as I rose to my feet and the cybernetic leg started to unwrap and lock around my stump at a painfully slow speed, “you’ve got this.”
I’d learned a while beforehand that it was much, much better to simply wait until I was a hundred percent sure that everything was finished before taking so much as a step, saved me the trouble of picking my ass up off the floor.
I took some time to take in the room, my poor, mushed to bits brain struggling to remember the layout of my home.
Every time I woke up was like loading up an old save, I had some idea of what I was doing, but I’d be hitting Y to jump for a while.
There seemed to be a million things going on throughout the connected dining and living room while at the same time seeming like nothing was happening at all.
I needed to focus on something basic, something that my brain could process without triggering an adrenaline reflex which would be, in a word, bad.
My TV was on and displaying the five o’clock news. The newscaster was presenting some story about Japanese fishermen, but she was speaking at the speed of an instant replay.
I had to stop thinking about how slow everything was going, not because it was freaking me out or anything, just because I was sure that I would be forever stuck in super slow-motion land if I didn’t find something stable to focus on.
That’s when I spotted the ashtray next to my sink in the kitchen, a steady, calming stream of smoke coming from it and passing over the massive plate of freshly roasted, deboned chicken breast.
‘Thank you past Eddie,’ I thought to myself with a smile, ‘thank you very much.’
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the cybernetic attachment gave off the hydraulic hissing sound that signaled I was free to start moving.
It was a slow process, taking each step like I was waiting to stand on a bunch of syringes, but I’d rather be safe than nursing a million torn muscles and broken bones once everything got back to normal.
I have to admit, it was boring as shit, but the long journey made my arrival at my destination all the better.
“Christ almighty…” I muttered as I looked into the ashtray and saw the thick, freshly lit joint, “Like a Goddamn cigarette stuffed with marbles…”
I’m not exactly sure how weed helped, whether it was the THC, or simply that it stopped my brain from going like a racehorse, but it did, and from the moment I put the poorly rolled paper between my lips I knew that everything was going to be alright.
The fan started spinning at its normal high speed, and the newscaster started to sound less like she was having a stroke as I took in a deep breath and held the calming smoke in body for as long as I could before exhaling with a decent coughing fit.
“That’s the stuff.” I said with a little chuckle as I took the joint between my fore and middle finger, “Now… chicky-chicky chow-chow time.”
LITERARY LOADING SCREEN 3.0
So, I think I should do my best to explain what was going on with the whole ‘my perception of reality is all messed up’ thing.
The truth? I don’t fully understand it myself.
I’ve had people explain it to me about fifty times, but each of those times I was left feeling more confused than the last, and by the end of it I just knew that I would always come out of Re.Gen feeling like I hadn’t eaten in three days while everything around me looked like it was moving at the speed of a snail with a learner’s permit on a busy highway.
That’s the other thing, the longer I’m in the game, the longer it takes me to recover, and if I move at a ‘regular’ speed while I’m in that state I will, like I said before, tear a bunch of muscles and break a bunch of bones.
Honestly though? Moving really slowly for a few minutes is well worth the payout I get at the end of the day.
MY HACKER FRIENDS
With time finally moving at a normal rate, I was free to turn off the camera I had pointing at the kitchen from behind the couch and send out the customary text to my fellow Code Jumpers to let them know I was awake.
The tradition of everyone coming over to watch our stupid reactions after coming out of Re.Gen on my big ass TV had started around two weeks after I began working for Hugo. I’m going to be honest, it was mostly just so I could get close to Brendan, but even after we’d gotten together the practice was more or less stuck.
It didn’t take long for the first of my three guests to arrive, and to my utter and complete disappointment it was the most annoying guy in our group.
“Tony…” I said, not bothering to hide my very real disdain for the guy as I opened the door, “Come in, come in. There’s some chicken on the counter.”
“Well hello to you too,” Tony replied with his weirdly whistle-filled voice before shuffling past me, his bedazzled suit and trilby all culminating to make an almost impossibly irritating ensemble, “don’t suppose you and Brendan are having trouble?”
“No, we’re very happy.” I said with all the enthusiasm of a recently killed cat, “How was your jump?”
“Uneventful compared to what happened to you if the stories are to be believed.”
“Wha… how..? huh?” I stammered before finally realizing I was still standing with the door open, “Where did you hear about that?”
“News travels fast in Re.Gen.”
I hated that about Tony, he always had to act like it was some big deal that he knew what was going on with the other Code Jumpers.
To put it in perspective, it’s like if you had a friend who knew exactly shape and color each of their dumps were, it’s weird, and you know that the only reason they’re the ones telling you about all of their crap is because they’re the only ones checking.
“So, you and Brendan are doing okay then?” Tony asked as I flopped down on the couch.
“Yes.”
“Just okay? Hm…”
“Oh my-dude, like I said before, we are very happy. Seriously, you’ve gotta back off with constantly assuming my relationship is about to fall apart.”
“I’m just saying it’s been a few months and you guys haven’t so much as uttered the word ‘love’.”
“That’s because w
e don’t love each other.” I snapped a little louder than I’d have liked, “Ugh, look, we’re happy, alright? We’re taking things slow.”
“Says the guy who made a move on the first date…”
Now, I like to think of myself as a pretty levelheaded type of person who doesn’t threaten to kill his friends, but I also like to think of myself as a guy with two legs and washer board abs, so…
“Alright, so I’m gonna say this just once, you can come in my house, you can eat my chicken, and you can smoke my weed, but,” I practically shouted, forcing Tony to lock his eyes with mine, “if you insinuate my relationship is in trouble, that I am somehow responsible for neither of us saying ‘love’, or even mention the fact that I’m dating Brendan one more Goddamn time I will kick you so hard that I put you through a wall, aight?”
It’s only now that I realize that that threat started and ended with the word ‘alright’, but I did drop the ‘l’ on the second one, so I think I’m good.
Anyway, my little rant did a good job of making Tony shut right the Hell up, which gave me enough time to chill out and collect myself before Brendan and Kathy showed up with their giggled conversation at my door.
No, Brendan wasn’t much for giggling, but something about Kathy, his roommate and long-time confidant, brought out this hyper effeminate side of him that made me want to go hunting for crocodiles with a leg of ham and a hammer.
…I think I may have just come up with the best idea for a game show ever.
“Hey!” Kathy exclaimed as I opened the door, her new spiky blue hair and belly-button piercing drawing my attention all over the place, “Heard you had some fun with Don Callomezi? How’s he doing these days?”
“Dangerously optimistic.” I replied with a smile before looking over at Brendan, his caramel skin and dreamy blue eyes-
‘Stop it!’ I snapped internally, ‘You are not that type of man, and you will not be suckered into that lovey-dovey bull crap because of Tony.’
“You doin’ alright there?” Brendan asked as I noticeably spaced out.
Code Jumper Page 5