The Rule of Thoughts

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The Rule of Thoughts Page 6

by James Dashner


  “Your dad what?” Michael shouted.

  She didn’t answer, stepped out into the hallway. Started pulling the door shut.

  “Your dad what?” Michael yelled again.

  But the door slammed so hard it shook the room, and she was gone.

  He thought about chasing her, but how could he? As guilty as he was of hurting Gabriela, how could he possibly put that ahead of finding his friends? He needed to figure out his own life. Get back into the Sleep. Find out if his family still existed in the artificial world.

  He remembered why he was in that hotel in the first place. In another city.

  For Sarah.

  She came to him two days later.

  It was an excruciating wait. He almost went crazy, but he was too nervous to leave, and he didn’t want to enter the Sleep until Sarah could do it with him. Especially since the three-day ultimatum from Kaine’s messenger on the train—the lady who’d jumped to her death—came and went as he hid in anonymity.

  He sent Sarah several encrypted messages during the wait, using a trail of clues about places they’d been in the VirtNet to lead her to his new hotel. Then he paced his room, trying not to worry that she’d decided not to come. Or that something had happened to her. Or that Kaine had caught up with them. Sarah would have to take care of things with the police, deal with family—not to mention how insanely upset she must have been. But his stomach didn’t care about all that. Until she knocked on his door, he was sick.

  And then there she was.

  “I’m really sorry, Sarah.”

  It was all he could say. He sat on the edge of the bed, she on the chair by the desk. They’d shared a long, silent hug, and once he did speak, the words felt laughably inadequate.

  “Michael …” She paused, and he suddenly wished she wouldn’t say anything. He wished he’d never gone to look for her, though he couldn’t imagine what he’d do without her.

  “Look,” she said. “I have to believe my parents are alive. And, well … and that the police will find them. I have to. Plus … our lives got flushed a long time before this happened. It’s not your fault.”

  Michael burst out in a huge laugh before he could stop himself. “Yeah, right. It’s totally my fault! I’m the one who dragged you and Bryson into this mess.”

  Sarah let out a grunt of frustration. “That’s exactly the opposite of the point I’m trying to make. Bryson and I could’ve easily said no. We could’ve run away. We didn’t have to follow you onto the Path. It was our choice, and I don’t want to hear you blame yourself again. Especially about my parents. Kaine probably would’ve come after me and my family eventually. I know way too much. Michael, you’re my best friend, end of story. I’m part of this.”

  Michael couldn’t allow himself to feel the relief that her speech should’ve brought. “But that’s just it,” he answered. “I’m not even real. I’m a computer program. How can you say that a string of code is your best friend?”

  She got up and walked over to him and sat down on the bed. “Because I can,” she said. Then she pulled him into a tight hug and whispered directly into his ear. He could feel the warmth of her breath.

  “I don’t understand what’s happening. All I know is you are you. You’re Michael. I could tell from the very first time you started talking. I saw it in your sweet dorky eyes.”

  “But they’re not my eyes,” he mumbled. He thought of Gabriela, whether he should tell Sarah about her.

  “But you’d never seen my real eyes, either. What’s the difference? The Sarah you’ve always known was basically a string of code, too. We are our thoughts and memories and personalities. I’m Sarah and you’re Michael. You’re the same. So can we please move on and figure out what we’re going to do?”

  Michael found it almost impossible to believe that someone could be that much of a friend. He wanted to kiss her—he didn’t know how else to express what he felt. But it’d be just his luck to screw everything up by trying to pull that off.

  “Thanks, Sarah. Seriously. I’d try to say something life-changing, but it’d just come out sounding stupid. You have no idea how relieved I am.”

  She kissed him on the cheek. “You and Bryson are all I’ve got now. We need to find him, Michael. He can help us. And then we need to stop Kaine from whatever he’s up to and find my parents. Could he be planning to replace them with Tangents?” It was as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her until she said it out loud. Sadness clouded her eyes as she looked at him.

  Michael squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll find your mom and dad,” he answered. “We’ll figure things out with Kaine. I just … what if looking for Bryson … what if they do something to him?”

  Sarah sighed. “He’s already in danger, and we can’t do this without him. We’ll just have to be smart and careful.”

  Michael loved it that neither of them had even considered caving to Kaine, reporting for duty—or whatever it was—like the Tangent wanted them to. He thought about Gabriela one more time, but it still didn’t feel right to tell Sarah about her. Later would be better.

  “Okay, then.” It was time to stop feeling guilty and get to work. “I’ve got a list of things we need to do.”

  The next day, the two of them were at a table, eating cereal. The kind with lots of marshmallows that lied and said it was good for you on the package. And Michael felt safe. He was confident that both his and Sarah’s new multilayered identities would hide them from whoever was looking for them, both the good guys and the bad. They’d also found an apartment that rented by the month. After the encounter with Gabriela, Michael had decided he needed to move.

  Somewhere along the way, Sarah had forgotten the rule about not talking with your mouth full.

  “It’s not a bad place, really,” she said after shoving another spoonful into her mouth. She looked around at the small kitchen and the adjoining living room—empty—then down the hallway, where there were a couple of bedrooms. Each contained two items: a single mattress and a fully functioning, brand-new Coffin. The coffins hadn’t been cheap, and Michael halfheartedly promised himself to pay back the Porters someday. For the money, if not for stealing their son.

  “Well, not really how I imagined my first place on my own,” Michael said. “You know, living next to cranks and prostitutes.”

  “Cranks?”

  “Yeah.” Michael rolled his eyes. “Crankheads? Druggies?”

  She gave him a blank stare.

  Michael smiled. “You’ve lived a sheltered life.”

  “You were a computer program,” she countered.

  “Ouch.” He took another spoonful, chewed, swallowed. “I guess we can’t put this off anymore. Time for the Sleep. You ready?”

  Sarah put her spoon down. “I’m ready. But you’re sure you agree with me?”

  “Yep.”

  She’d been insistent that instead of trying to find Bryson in the Wake, they needed to Sink into the Sleep and search for him there. They had far more skill at hiding themselves in the VirtNet than they did in the Wake, and it would be safer for them and for Bryson. They’d purposefully held off on contacting him until they went in—no reason to risk testing how well they’d set up their new identities until they couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Things should’ve settled down by now, right?” she asked.

  “At least a little. If they’ve been watching the Sleep, I’m sure they expected us to have gone in by now.” The truth was that Michael been worried about this. Kaine was even more powerful inside the VirtNet, but then again, so were Michael and Sarah. They were doing the right thing. “Let’s just hope Bryson’s okay. I bet they’ve been watching him like a hawk.”

  “Like a hawk,” Sarah repeated with a grin. She always made fun of him for using old-man clichés. “I’m sure his new identity is even better than ours.”

  “Yeah. You get enough?” He nodded at the cereal. It was what passed for gourmet without his nanny, Helga, around. His heart ached at the thought of her. He missed
that crazy old German woman so much. Even more than his parents, if he was honest. But he was trying his best not to let himself go down that road—it was possible they still existed. It was.

  “I think three bowls oughta do it,” Sarah confirmed.

  “Then let’s Sink.”

  They left the dishes on the table.

  It was weird for Michael to get into the Coffin. Not that it felt any different from the countless times he’d done it before. It was just that this was the first time he was doing it as a flesh-and-blood human. It scared him and excited him at the same time. Even though his life had gone from crummy to crappy, he was eager to Sink into the Sleep again. In many ways, he was literally going home.

  Sarah had closed her bedroom door—most people stripped naked before getting into a NerveBox. Keeping his boxers on just in case, he stepped into his brand-new Coffin, the latest and greatest model, and lay down. He pulled the door shut on its hinges, relishing the feel of the tiny NerveWires snaking across his skin and burrowing inside, the sound and feel of the AirPuffs and LiquiGels surrounding him, all systems testing to make sure he’d have a true VirtNet experience.

  Of course, part of him feared it. Things were so different now. How could he know what might happen? And there was Kaine. Always Kaine. But then …

  There was also Helga. His parents. His old life. Maybe, just maybe, they were out there somewhere. Somehow.

  He closed his eyes and the Sleep took him away.

  Most people ended up at a Portal in a public place when they Sank into the VirtNet, anything from a city street to a mall. Then you walked or rode to the destination you were in the mood for. Restaurant, movies, massage parlor, dance hall. Or, of course, the gaming depots. Michael had an itch to do just that but knew it was the last thing on the list. This was not a gaming tour.

  When he Sank into the Sleep this time, he chose to emerge in an emptiness like deep space, with code swirling around him. These Sink locations existed, but your average gamer wouldn’t know how to find them. Or care to, really—Michael and Sarah wanted to be sure to stay out of sight.

  Michael floated amid numbers and letters moving in a blur of speed. He could easily sense Sarah’s presence, and he reached out with virtual fingers to manipulate the code around him. He was relieved to discover that he hadn’t lost his touch. Swiping and typing, he moved code around almost faster than he could think. Sarah was doing the same, following the plan they’d laid out.

  Soon an opening appeared, a black square—a silhouette against the code. It was like the Portals that flashed open around the stone disc of the Path. Michael catapulted himself forward and through the opening to a place that only three people in the world knew about.

  His feet landed on a soft forest floor, moist leaves giving under his weight with a squish. Mist curled around his legs, and giant trees surrounded him, moss hanging from their limbs as if they were melting. The forest was a work of art; it looked ancient, and Michael and his friends had spent countless hours designing it out of code. But the true masterpiece was the tree house they had programmed, one of his proudest achievements. On the outskirts of the outskirts of Lifeblood, in a place no one would ever go. And if anyone did go there, they wouldn’t be able to see the tree house anyway. It was a brilliant example of elusive code.

  Sarah was already climbing the ladder, disappearing through the trapdoor. Michael sucked in a deep breath of the clean, fake air, then followed her up. He’d thought it would seem strange being back inside the Sleep, but it felt just like old times, nothing out of the ordinary. Which brought both comfort and relief.

  He had just reached the top rung when a blur of movement raced by to the left. He turned to look, but there was nothing. Just an oak tree, twisted and gnarled.

  No, he thought, more annoyed than scared. No way somebody found this place on purpose. It had to be an accident, some kid dinking around.

  “Sarah,” he called in a low whisper. “I think I saw something.”

  He didn’t wait for her to respond. With his eyes riveted to the spot where he’d seen the motion, he quickly climbed back down the ladder and started inching toward the oak. In all the times they’d been to their tree house, not once had there been so much as a mosquito nearby, much less another person. Based on their circumstances, he ruled out the chance that someone had found them by accident after all. With a sinking feeling, he decided to investigate.

  Sarah was too smart to ask questions. A glance behind him showed that she was almost to the bottom of the ladder, following his lead.

  Slowly, Michael crept closer, thankful for the wet leaves padding his steps. As he neared the tree, though, his confidence waned. He was sure someone would jump out at any second, guns blazing, or worse, and if he and Sarah couldn’t even come here safely, he didn’t know how they had any chance of finding Bryson or doing anything else. A heavy feeling of doom weighed on him.

  When Michael was only a few feet away, he stopped and planted his feet, bending his knees, ready to react if he had to protect himself.

  “Who’s back there?” he shouted, hoping to surprise the intruder into making a sound.

  “Turn around and go back,” a woman answered. “I won’t harm you if you do.” The voice sounded familiar. Just barely.

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  The stranger didn’t answer.

  A long, long moment passed in silence. Michael didn’t know what to do, what to say. Sarah crept up behind him and gently touched his shoulder.

  “Just talk to us,” Sarah called out. “How did you find this place?”

  “Last warning,” the voice replied. This time she did something funny to her voice, muffling it somehow. “Don’t come one step closer.”

  Michael turned and looked at Sarah. Her face shone eerily in the perpetual pale light of the forest. Mist rose behind her like an ominous sign of death. She leaned in and whispered so softly in his ear that he barely made out the words.

  “You go around the left. I’ll do the right.”

  Michael shook his head. Hadn’t they learned their lesson by now?

  But Sarah was already stepping around, positioning herself to charge. Left, Michael reminded himself as he reached out and took Sarah’s hand. After a solid squeeze, he let go and crouched down, blood pumping.

  “Now!” Sarah yelled.

  Michael ran for the tree with a burst of adrenaline. He’d only taken two steps when a blinding white light flashed and an invisible force knocked him backward, slamming him into a tree, where he collapsed to the ground.

  Spots of color swam before his eyes. Grunting, he forced himself to his feet. His chance of spotting the stranger was slipping away. His back ached, his head spun, a spell of dizziness enveloped him in a rush behind his ears. Shielding his eyes, he stumbled forward.

  Gradually his vision cleared, though the forest tilted and swayed beneath his feet. He made it to the oak tree where the stranger had been hiding, ran his hand along its rough bark as he rounded the trunk, straining to see anything in the forest beyond. He caught a glimpse of a woman running in the distance, long hair trailing behind her as she dodged from tree to tree.

  Michael turned away—there was no chance of catching her. She’d gotten too far already. The pain in his back lit up, lancing down his legs. Stumbling, he searched until he found Sarah lying on the ground. Not moving. There was blood on her head, but her chest was moving up and down. Just enough. They’d never found out what happened if she died in the outskirts—she’d probably be fine, but he didn’t want her to leave him, not even for a minute.

  Michael collapsed to his knees. He wanted to scream in frustration, but he pressed it down.

  That woman. Her voice. Her hair. Something about her.

  He knew her. From somewhere, he knew her.

  Sarah came to a few minutes later.

  She groaned and shifted, then groaned some more. Michael was sitting on the ground right next to her, his back against a tree. He hadn’t known what to do oth
er than wait it out. He figured she’d either die and disappear, and he’d follow her back to their Coffins, or she’d wake up eventually.

  Finally, she propped herself up next to Michael. She rubbed her head and let out one last achy moan.

  “You okay?” Michael asked.

  “I’m sure there’ll be a big honkin’ bruise when we go back to the Wake, but I’ll be fine.” She shifted to look at him, still tenderly touching her sore spot. “So … what happened? You’ve got it all figured out, right?”

  He scoffed. “Of course I do.” Which really meant that he didn’t. “I did see her running into the forest. I could barely walk, though, so I didn’t bother chasing her.”

  “I think you mean you didn’t want to leave me alone,” Sarah said. She pointed toward the large oak where the flash had gone off. “So some lady follows us, spies on us, sets off fancy fireworks to cover herself as she runs away—why did she warn us? Doesn’t that seem a little weird to you?”

  “I guess it means she didn’t want to hurt us. But …”

  “What?”

  The last piece of the puzzle had just clicked into place for Michael. “I recognized her voice. And then something about the way she moved when she ran away.”

  “And?”

  “I think it was Agent Weber from the VNS. But how in the world did she find us here?”

  That was enough of a bombshell that Sarah simply suggested they climb up the ladder and get more comfortable in the tree house.

  “So you’re sure it was her?” Sarah asked once she was sitting on an ugly, beat-up beanbag. Bryson had chosen the delightful seat ages ago during the coding phase.

  Michael sat at the table, gaze fixed on the window, thinking.

  “Pretty sure,” he answered. “Especially the voice. You gotta remember, the first time I met her was in Lifeblood Deep, but then she came to my apartment—Jackson Porter’s apartment—right after I woke up there, and she looked basically the same. I guess it makes sense that she designed her Aura to look the same as in the Wake since she didn’t want me to know I was a Tangent.”

 

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