Capsule

by Mel Torrefranca

  Further down the road stood a log building with the name Sunshine Auto spelled with light-up letters across the front of the roof. Cars filled the massive parking lot surrounding the building and overflowed along the nearby sidewalks. Although it appeared to be an average car dealership, the location wasn’t at all traditional. The dealerships in Brookwood were located within the western commercial district, surrounded by restaurant chains, bustling wholesale markets, and smog shops, but there were no other buildings surrounding Sunshine Auto. Just trees and a few windows glowing from a distant neighborhood.

  Kat pulled over behind a string of cars directly across the street from the parking lot. With her foot pressed against the brakes, she pulled at the key. It was jammed.

  Peter shifted the car into park and removed the key with ease. “Even I know how this works.”

  “You know everything, don’t you?” Kat snatched the key from his fingertips, smiling as she turned away from him and opened the car door.

  The sun had set a while ago, leaving behind nothing but a fading pinkish-purple blur in the sky. Kat crossed the street with her numb hands tucked into the pockets of her transparent windbreaker, which didn’t do much to warm her up. Her neck grew tense as she resisted the cold and squeezed between two cars parked way too close to each other. By the time she reached the wire fence that wrapped along the parking lot of Sunshine Auto, Peter was standing by her side.

  Kat raised her chin to face the top of the fence—no barbed wire.

  “Cosmetic security.” She rested her hands against the patterned wires, and the fence shifted with little resistance. Flimsy.

  “What?”

  “A fence that doesn’t keep people out.” Kat lifted her shoe, shoving a sneaker into one of the gaps between the wires and boosting herself up. “Cosmetic. It only looks like security.”

  “Why do I get the sense you’ve done this before?” Peter’s shoes were too large to get a solid grip between the wire’s gaps, which left him sliding onto the sidewalk a few times. He placed most of his weight on his arms, breathing heavily as he pulled himself up the fence, feet nearly dangling under him.

  “Someone’s a bit slow.” Kat snickered from the top of the fence before spinning to climb down the opposite side. “And actually—no, I haven’t snuck in anywhere before. But I’ve thought about it. Horrible, huh?”

  “What’s horrible?” Peter wrapped his hand around the metal bar at the top of the fence.

  “That I do bad things when I don’t have to. Or at least, when I don’t have a reason to.” Kat leapt the remainder of the distance, and her soles burned from the impact, but after a few steps the sensation faded. Earlier today she’d stolen candy at Pepperdine when she hadn’t even been in the mood for candy. “I feel like I’ve tried everything to feel bad, but I never do. It’s like people think I’m human, but I’m only human when I’m fake.”

  “You know what?” Peter landed next to her, his feet shuffling as he rebalanced himself. “The fact that you’re worried about this in the first place proves that you’re human. Me and my blog, on the other hand—I don’t have any remorse for what I’ve done.”

  They trailed between cars, pretending to search for the final capsule—or whatever the game had in store for them at this level—but they weren’t really paying attention.

  “But that’s different.” Kat shivered under the cool breeze. “You didn’t make your blog to hurt people.”

  Peter stopped, and when Kat turned around, his eyes widened. She’d reached that conclusion from his memories and what he’d shared back at Grove Aid, but apparently he hadn’t even reached it himself. His jaw shifted around, hinting that he had something to say, but his lips refused to budge.

  “If people actually knew your story, they’d be able to relate to you.” Kat crossed her trembling arms. “But me? I’m like that one character in the movie who everyone likes because they look cool, but no one actually understands.”

  “No, you’re not.” Peter shook his head, a grin sliding onto his face. “You’re more like the villain’s sidekick.”

  Kat didn’t want to, but she smiled.

  “In all seriousness though, you’re not a monster, Kat.” Peter passed her, walking between two cars. “If anyone’s the monster, it’s me.”

  Kat stared at Peter’s back as she followed him through the parking lot. She couldn’t put her finger on what had changed. Earlier today they’d done nothing but throw insults at each other, but now they were fighting to be the bad guy. Now they were defending each other more than they were defending themselves.

  Maybe she and Peter weren’t as different as she had originally thought.

  Maybe no one was.

  “Hello?” Peter waved his hand in front of Kat’s face.

  Kat stopped. “What?”

  “I’ve been asking you where you think it might be.” He spun in place, gesturing to the cars surrounding them. “I don’t think our walking-between-cars strategy is working very well. It wouldn’t be inside, would it?”

  Now that Kat was closer to the building she finally noticed how worn-down it was. The log walls made it appear as more of a cabin than a car dealership office, but that wasn’t a surprise considering their location. She searched for the silhouette of a capsule through the windows, but with the indoor lights off, it was too dark to tell.

  Kat lowered her eyes.

  That’s when she saw it.

  “Oh. Great!” Peter laughed. “It just had to be in a car, of all places.”

  Inside the gray Lexus beside them was the final capsule, hovering gently over the passenger seat. The sticker on the windshield labeled the car for sale at 17,350 dollars.

  Kat yanked at the door. It was locked.

  Worth a shot.

  “Can you find a brick?” She tapped at the driver’s seat window.

  “Really, a brick?” Peter ran a hand through his hair. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Do you have a better idea, Houdini?” Kat rested her palm on the cool glass. They were so close to the last capsule. So close to the end of the game. Surely one extra crime wouldn’t hurt. “The longer we hold off, the riskier it gets.”

  Peter sighed. “I hate that you’re right.”

  “Then hurry up! We have to find a brick, or a rock—anything.” Kat searched the ground of the surrounding area for something strong enough to penetrate the glass with.

  As Peter ran to scan the area along the fence, a speaker blasted a warning signal.

  “You are trespassing. Remove yourself from the property or the police will be alerted…” The warning repeated itself as Peter returned to Kat with a rock resting between his palms. It was about the size of an apple, but it’d do the trick. “You are trespassing. Remove yourself from the property…”

  “I’m impressed.” Kat searched for the source of the audio warning on the main building, but she couldn’t spot the speakers. “Didn’t think a place like this would bother with motion sensors.”

  “Once again, Kat underestimates security.” Peter tossed the rock into the air and caught it. “Is this something you always do?”

  Kat held her hand out for the rock, but Peter shot his arm past her and smashed it into the window of the Lexus. She clenched her eyes shut at the violent clash of the rock meeting glass.

  “Whoa.” Kat opened her eyes to the shards trickling onto the dirt in light raindrops. “What happened to Peter?”

  “Peter,” he said, dropping the rock onto the dirt, “has realized that in about thirty seconds, none of this will matter.”

  Within an arm’s reach through the destroyed Lexus window was the final capsule, but it flew through the windshield without causing further damage, as though the glass hadn’t been there in the first place. Kat ran after the capsule, scared of losing sight of it, but it didn’t travel far before gliding into another car win
dow. It hovered over the passenger seat, taunting them.

  Kat winced as her fingers slammed into the glass. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Peter appeared at Kat’s side with the rock in his hands again. Kat stepped away, and he swung his arm against the window, shattering the glass. Before he could reach for it, the capsule made its second exit and slipped through the windshield of a third car—a red Toyota.

  They’d already smashed two windows. What more was a third? After a few deep breaths, Peter raced to the Toyota and threw his fist into the glass a third time, the sharp edges of the rock in his grip leaving shards of glass fluttering to the ground. Kat held her breath, hoping the capsule wouldn’t move again.

  And it didn’t.

  With a humming noise the capsule emitted a vivid blue glow, which Kat assumed was a mark of victory. She joined Peter by the red Toyota’s smashed window. The color seeping from the fifth capsule blinded her.

  “Not as challenging as I’d expect for a boss level.” The rock fell from Peter’s grip, permanently this time. He had traces of blood on his right hand, but he didn’t reach for the capsule nor bother to study his cuts, and Kat couldn’t bring herself to reach for the capsule nor ask if his hand was okay. As curious as she was about what the final memory would entail—if they even had a fifth memory, the dread overwhelmed her.

  Is this really the end? Her gaze wandered back and forth between Peter and the glowing capsule as the audio warning echoed around them. “Remove yourself from the property or the police will be alerted. You are trespassing. Remove yourself…” At this point Kat had learned to tune the message out. The noise faded into the ambiance of the night, nothing more than a cricket chirp in the wind.

  “I guess that’s it then.” Peter faced Kat, but his eyes lingered on the capsule.

  “Yeah.” Kat nodded. “I guess so.”

  They had both agreed that this was the end, but neither of them took action to make the end official. Kat observed Peter’s hand, waiting for his fingers to twitch. For him to open the capsule. For him to end the game. But Peter’s hand didn’t budge, and she couldn’t gather the strength to budge either.

  “I have a weird question for you.” Peter’s voice was unsteady, lacking the usual confidence he spoke with. His words clashed into each other, struggling to break loose. “Do you feel—you know—like—trapped in the game?”

  Kat thought back to the bonus memory. Sitting on the floor of the Grove Aid candy aisle, she’d hated Capsule. She’d longed for an escape, but now the escape exit was an arm’s reach away and she couldn’t bring herself to step through the door.

  “No,” Kat said. “I don’t feel trapped.” What she really wanted to say was, I kinda like it here.

  Peter frowned at his shoes. “Me neither, and this might be a crazy thing to say, considering the fact that we won’t be remembering any of this.” He kicked a few shards of glass off his sneakers. “And I don’t know—maybe this will freak you out or something—but I’ve always found you—”

  “What? Pretty?” Obviously Peter had nothing else to say. Before today the only sources of judgment he had of her were her Instagram account and their occasional run-ins at Halos. What else could he bring up besides her looks? It wasn’t like he’d known her personally.

  “Well, that’s obvious. But everyone thinks you’re pretty.” Peter finally raised his hand, rotating his wrist to survey the cuts. A sliver of glass had burrowed itself into his palm, so he pulled it out with a wince and dropped the invading piece onto the dirt. “What I was going to say before you so rudely interrupted me is that I found you familiar. You lost Emmeline six months before I lost my uncle. You knew how you lost her, but you didn’t know why you had to. In a lot of ways you reminded me of myself.”

  Peter was right—their stories had plenty of similarities. Isabella and Jay. Nicholas and Emmeline. Kat thought back to the cashier at Pepperdine earlier today—Peter’s ex-friend. Indigo. Whitney also surfaced to the front of her mind. Both Peter and Kat had been surrounded by people who didn’t understand what they were going through—who perceived their suffering in the wrong ways. A boy who had turned against Peter after he’d changed, and a girl who had only turned to Kat after she’d changed. Neither Indigo nor Whitney had ever appreciated Peter or Kat for who they really were. And yet here the game had brought the two strangers together, as though Capsule were fate itself. Maybe if Kat had known his story all along—if they had somehow crossed paths in the right way before—maybe they could have been friends.

  Kat poked his chest. “Well, let me tell you a secret then.”

  Peter dropped his bleeding hand and raised his chin with a smile. He was wearing that same crooked grin, but this time, something about it was genuine.

  “No one says this because they hate your guts,” Kat said, “but you’re not too bad yourself.”

  The last bits of pink drained from the sky, their main source of light now the capsule beside them.

  “Is it weird that I don’t wanna reverse the day?” Kat watched the color ooze from the capsule into the seats of the car, brightening the vehicle.

  “No. I don’t wanna lose today either.” Peter set his hands onto Kat’s shoulders, and she faced him again. For a moment she forgot about the capsule sitting in the car. The capsule that was about to end everything. All she saw were Peter’s eyes, two twin moons reflecting the soft blue aura that encapsulated them. His smile vanished before he said, “Lose you—I mean.”

  Kat could hear her own heartbeat, even louder than the blaring alarm, and she wanted to smack herself for it. Of all people, Peter Moon? The heartless psychopath who ran a gossip blog at Brookwood High, who tore people down to the point of tears and clenched fists? If it weren’t for Capsule, she would have never realized how normal he was. How human he was. How he was possibly the only person who understood what she was going through.

  Capsule had given her something special, only to now take it away.

  “Peter, we won’t—”

  “Remember. I know.” His brows spread apart, the tension in his face loosening. “But you said it yourself. Just because we don’t remember something doesn’t make it pointless.”

  Using her own words against her. Of course Peter had to be clever like that.

  The capsule glowed brighter, illuminating their faces with growing intensity. With the light in the sky gone, they were trapped in a sapphire orb, their surroundings fading from view. It was almost as though the game had been designed for this moment, as though the game had been rooting for this from the start.

  Peter stepped closer, his grip tightening against her rustling windbreaker, but Kat didn’t step away. The Peter standing in front of her wasn’t the same Peter who ran Moral Moon, but the Peter who people saw before learning about his past. The cruel filter he’d intentionally placed on himself vanished, leaving his face softer, and the flaming tint in his brown eyes dampened to ash as he looked down at her lips.

  Kat gulped as her heart pounded inside her chest. It didn’t make sense. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d lost control of her nerves like this. For the past two years she’d been fighting for something to make her feel again. Fighting to bring back that sickening rush of fear, sadness, anger—anything really. But today, standing in the middle of Sunshine Auto, she didn’t have to fight, and she didn’t have to fake it.

  Peter leaned forward, and the capsule’s indigo haze flickered as Kat mirrored him.

  She closed her eyes, and their lips met.

  A gust of wind ruffled Kat’s hair, and the sharp chill of the night impaled her. Her eyes popped open, and Peter’s hands fell from her shoulders as she staggered away from the capsule’s glowing aura and into the dark Grovestown air. She turned her back to Peter and leaned forward, her head burning as she faced the flustered clone of herself in the shattered glass by her boots. There’s no way. She wrapped her hands
around her stomach, the colors in her reflection fading to back and white. I just kissed Peter Moon.

  “Uh—are you okay?” Peter stood still behind her. Motionless.

  “Yeah.” Kat straightened her spine, eyes propped wide, refusing to blink. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  Calm down, Kat thought. Soon enough it’ll be like nothing happened. The thought left her with a knot in her throat. Was that really what she wanted?

  “Well, I guess the rumors Jackie told us about weren’t that far off after all.” Peter’s lighthearted voice morphed into laughter, but the awkward humor crumbled when Kat finally faced him.

  There was nothing to say. Sure, Kat wanted to clear things up. She wanted to talk through whatever had happened and understand exactly why it happened, but she also knew this moment was temporary. The future was murky. Without the game Peter and Kat would have never been more than two students who attended Brookwood High at the same time for a brief fraction of each other’s lives, and after Level Five, that would become their dead-and-revived reality.

  Without our memories, this really is pointless, isn’t it?

  Kat didn’t have time to answer that question. The warning signal was still blaring, and they had no choice but to open the fifth capsule eventually, so they might as well get it over with now. Judging by Peter’s rapid blinks as he tried to gather something to say, Kat knew he wasn’t planning to open the capsule anytime soon. She took a deep breath before approaching the broken car window and reaching inside.

  “Kat. Wait, I…”

  Nothing.

  Kat’s hand met nothing but smooth air, slicing through the capsule as though it were a figment of her imagination. She turned to Peter, who had now awoken from his daze and mentally rejoined the game. He took slow, dreadful steps to the car door and reached for the capsule. His fingers disappeared inside the aluminum, reemerging as he pulled his arm away.

  “Dammit!” Peter slammed his fist against the roof of the car, wincing as the cuts intensified the pain. He leaned forward and rested his head against his stinging fist.