by Sean Rodman
I point at a glass of OJ on the table. “This for me?”
“Yup. Grab some forks?” My dad is a lousy cook—except for breakfast. He’s got it down to an art, and within minutes we’re both enjoying grease, protein and coffee. The perfect way to start the day.
Pushing his now-empty plate away, Dad looks at me over his mug. “You got something to want to say to me?”
All that good food suddenly flops over in my stomach. “What do you mean?” I say carefully.
“I’ve been working a lot recently.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Nights. Weekends. Probably too much. Tricky arson cases—like that one on Bendis that was on the news? Anyway, I’m the new guy, so everyone else piles the paperwork on me. I’m pretty sure you think I’m not paying attention to you anymore.” His eyes narrow.
“That’s a bad thing?” I risk a joke.
But Dad laughs, more of a gravelly bark. “Listen, that fight we had the other night, some of the things you said—I know the move hasn’t been easy. The stuff with your mom wasn’t easy. And I haven’t made it any easier for you since then. So I guess what I’m saying is, you’ve got a right to be pissed with me. With everything.”
I just nod.
“But here’s the thing.” His gray eyes bore into mine. “I want you to trust that everything I’ve done is because I want the best for you. Trust that I’m on your side, always.”
When did Dad get so touchy-feely? But I can see from his eyes that he means it. He’s actually worried about me or something. Anyway, it’s making me feel weird. Nervous.
“I’ve got to get to the bus.” I get up and put my dishes in the sink. “I’ll see you tonight?”
He sighs and shakes his big, bearlike head. “Best I can do is frozen dinner for you. I’m out on the second shift. Three PM to eleven PM. But how about we do breakfast again tomorrow?”
The sleep deprivation is hitting me hard, so I rest my head against the cool, smooth metal of my locker. The bell rings, startling me upright as students flood into the central hallway. I stand still while they rush around me, trying to study each face as it floats past. It feels like I’m in slow motion and everything else is in fast-forward. Man, my head is in a strange space. But I keep studying faces. Trying to figure out which one is Sudo.
You know what’s the worst time of day when you haven’t had enough sleep? Right after lunch. Of course, it’s Mr. Dyson’s class. He’s lecturing about some Greek legend, Narcissus and Nemesis. Cool names. But no matter what I do, my eyelids keep slamming down like metal shutters over my eyes. And then I have these vivid flashes of the zombie dolls from last night. I can’t look Mr. Dyson in the eye, which is stupid. It was just a game.
Only something about it doesn’t feel like just a game.
Finally, desperate to stay awake, I stick up my hand and ask to go to the bathroom. I splash cold water on my face, then stare at my image in the mirror. Heavy dark bags under my bloodshot eyes. I look like crap, I think. Then I see Griggs looking over my shoulder in the mirror, apparently reading my mind.
“You do look like crap,” he says. “Just in case, y’know, you weren’t a hundred percent certain.”
“Thanks a bunch.” I don’t turn around as he comes over to the sinks to wash his hands.
“Don’t mention it. I figure you’ve decided to take some seriously hard drugs. Bad idea, by the way. Or maybe you donated blood—like, a couple gallons of it? Also a bad idea.” He raises an eyebrow. “Or you’ve been playing Killswitch around the clock?”
I can’t help but laugh a little. “That would be my addiction of choice.”
“Always was. You still playing in the Valleytown mod?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I built some amazing things in there. Totally owned it.” I thump the dispenser to get some towels and start patting my face dry. “Anyway, I’m thinking about stopping.”
“Really? Why?”
I look at Griggs. Messy brown hair frames his chubby face, his eyes curious behind thick black-framed glasses. Then, for a second, I see his face on the zombie thing again.
“I can’t explain.” I walk quickly out of the bathroom.
The day finally ends. A headache has spent the last hour or so sprouting behind my forehead. I hustle across the parking lot, eyes down, earbuds on. Blocking everything out. That’s why I don’t hear the car coming at me, just see a last-second flash of metal and glass out of the corner of my eye. Then I’m looking down at a car bumper just an inch away from my jeans. I raise my eyes to look through the windshield. It’s Aaron Carnavon. He leans out the driver’s-side window.
“You stepped right out in front of me! What the hell are you doing?”
A crowd of students has suddenly materialized—a cross-section of the pod people are watching us. They’re all here to watch a fight, I realize. To watch me get pounded into the ground. But Aaron doesn’t even get out of the car. He just shakes his head, looking confused and a little disgusted.
“Just stay out of my way, freak. I know who you are. But I don’t know what your problem is.” He reverses the car, then accelerates around and past me.
A muscle in my thigh keeps twitching uncontrollably, nervous shock from the near miss. I walk home carefully, not quite trusting myself.
Chapter Thirteen
I take my half-warmed-up dinner in a plastic tray to my bedroom and sit down in front my laptop. I stare at the blank screen for a few minutes, chewing on beef stroganoff and peas. What I said to Griggs was true—I am thinking about finding a new game. I don’t have to play in Sudo’s world.
Except it was my world too. Part of me liked the power. Liked the idea of creating a reality where I could control everything. In a way the real world will never allow.
I punch the Power button on the laptop. It hums to life. By the time I log into the Valleytown mod, Sudo is already waiting for me.
“Where have you been?” He sounds peeved.
“Sorry.” Jeez, it was only a few minutes past our agreed time. “Are we going to do that zombie killing mission again?”
“Not exactly.” I hear the sound of keys tapping in my headset, and suddenly my warfighter is inside a building. It takes a second for me to recognize the gray-black cardboard structure. The long hall with doorways puncturing it at regular intervals.
“This is McCallum High?”
“Uh-huh.” There’s a beep, and all the doors open. Zombie dolls stumble out into the hallway from the adjoining rooms. I start tapping commands into my keyboard to arm my weapons system.
“Stand down. Easy, man,” says Sudo. “Your mission is just to follow one guy. I’ll give you more instructions on the way.” A single figure is outlined in white, making it easy to track him through the crowds. I nudge the controls, and my warfighter starts to trail him.
We go up and down the stairs, into rooms and back out again. It feels like the figure is moving randomly but is always just far enough away that I have to stay on my toes to keep up. I try to make out the face plastered onto the doll’s head, but I never quite get a good angle.
“Are you just yanking my chain?” I say. “Is there a point to this?”
Sudo just laughs.
Finally my target wanders out of the school and into the parking lot outside. A row of identical cars lines one side of the lot. To my surprise, the zombie doll gets into one of them. The car backs out, then starts to drive away.
“Don’t lose him!” says Sudo. “You’ll mess this up.”
“Okay, okay.” I trigger my jetpack and soar up above the trees. It takes a second to regain my view of the car. I’m hovering right overhead as it cruises down Levy Street. After a few minutes it pulls into a driveway. The zombie gets out and walks into the nearby house.
“Okay, new mission objective. Land, and destroy the vehicle. Defend yourself against any counter-response,” says Sudo. I can hear the excitement in the clipped way he’s speaking, like he’s mission control on a space flight or something. I cut the jets and drop to the driv
eway beside the car. I take a good look at it. It’s one of the regular cars used in all the Killswitch games. Nothing fancy.
“This doesn’t make any sense. Why am I doing this?”
“Just do it. Play the game. Complete the mission.”
I shake my head. Whatever. It’s less creepy than taking out the zombies. The question is, radium cannon or mini-missile? I pull up my weapon inventory. Instead of my regular arsenal, there’s only one option.
“Pipe bomb?” I say out loud. I’ve never seen that one before. Must be something Sudo made, like the cartoon bomb Griggs created ages ago.
“Come on, come on,” Sudo says.
I select the bomb and see that my warfighter is now clutching a little stick in his hand. It takes a second for me to figure out how to arm it. Then I plant it under the car. A moment later there’s a flash, and a cloud of smoke roils up from the car. When it disappears, the car is engulfed in blue flames.
“Awesome!” I say. “Now what?” But before Sudo can answer, the front door of the house bursts open and the zombie driver comes charging back out. I pull up my weapon inventory, but there’s nothing left in it. Crap. The zombie is on top of me a second later, my screen strobing red as health points drop with each clawing attack. I struggle to maneuver my warfighter out from under the zombie. I finally catch a glimpse of the thing’s face. A photograph of Aaron Carnavon.
Suddenly I feel rage and frustration come boiling out of me, like a dam breaking. In that moment, I just want to destroy Aaron. Destroy all the pod people. Clean them all out of Valleytown, leaving it perfect and empty. I shove Aaron back toward the burning car. Into the inferno. Blue flames leap out and consume him. I realize I’m shouting a weird war cry, and Sudo joins in.
“That was awesome!” shouts Sudo through my headset. “That was for you, man! Didn’t that feel good?”
Too good. My voice is hoarse from shouting. “How do you know about him and me?”
I can practically hear Sudo rolling his eyes. “I’ve been watching you. I saw everything in the parking lot today. Okay, next mission. I’ll start you back at McCallum and—”
“No, wait. I have to—” My hands are trembling on the controller. I put it gently down on my desk.
“We’ll play tomorrow.” Sudo’s voice is firm.
“I don’t know—”
“You’re not getting it, Josh. We will play tomorrow. And you’re missing the best part. This was just a training mission.” His voice drops. “Tomorrow is for real.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you.” He sounds like a teacher, annoyed that his student isn’t paying attention. “I created the Valleytown to test out plans. To train for missions. Practice runs. Check it out.”
My warfighter dissolves in a spray of pixels, then reappears in front of the house perpetually engulfed in blue flames. The sign in front reads 304 Bendis Crescent.
“This is Mrs. Cormer’s house. The biology teacher? It took me weeks of practice in the game to get the details right on this one. How to ignite the fire so it would spread quickly. Which direction to approach from the street so that nobody could see me.”
“Wait, that was you? You actually did it?” I say weakly. “In real life? Why?”
“Because she failed me out of biology.”
“That’s…” My words trail off.
Sudo laughs. “Don’t freak out. I’m not that crazy. I planned it so that nobody was home at the time. But I taught her a lesson, didn’t I? And tomorrow we’ll teach Aaron a lesson too. We’ll torch that car of his.”
I sit silently, watching the house burn on the screen.
“You still in?” Sudo asks.
You’re actually insane, I want to say. And I’m insane for not pulling the plug right now.
I want to blame it on being freaked out. On surprise. On shock.
But maybe part of me actually wants to help him. Control the world, just like we control the game.
Either way, Sudo takes my hesitation for agreement.
“I’ll text you the details about where to pick up the—”
His voice cuts out as I slap the laptop shut. What have I done?
Chapter Fourteen
The vertical blinds divide the cold autumn sunlight into bars on my ceiling. My eyes feel crusty and tired. I was thinking about Sudo and the Valleytown mod all night. The righteous anger I felt when I pushed the Aaron zombie into his own flaming car. How easy it was to let anger be the only emotion I felt toward Aaron. Toward everybody. Like anger was my firewall, my shield. Only it doesn’t feel right. Sudo has gone down that road. Jane said a firewall could become a prison to contain you rather than a castle to protect you.
My phone buzzes. I know who it is before I swipe the screen awake.
i will give u the item for your inventory for the mission. meet me noon in cafeteria, last table on right. be alone.
I feel a sick lurch in my stomach as I think about the “item” he’s talking about. The one weapon in my inventory from the game last night. The pipe bomb? A real one?
understood?
I stare at the little screen like it’s a snake about to bite me. I can’t hide from Sudo. I can’t just run away. He won’t let me. But I don’t want to play anymore. I don’t want anyone to actually get hurt because of his sick games. I hear the rattle of pots downstairs as Dad makes breakfast. And I have an idea. Finally I tap a single letter.
K
When I emerge in the kitchen downstairs, the scene looks weirdly normal in comparison to what’s going on in my head. Dad has the bacon on the table, and the warm tang of coffee is in the air. The newspaper rustles as he lowers it to watch me fix a cup of coffee.
“Morning.” He studies me. “You all right?”
I just shake my head no and drop into the seat across from him. We lock eyes, and I know I’ve triggered his cop instincts. He doesn’t raise his voice. Just folds the newspaper neatly and rests it on the table.
“What’s going on?” he says gently. Like he doesn’t want to scare me off. Like maybe he knows things are really bad this time.
“You said you want me to trust you, right?” I say. “Well, I need you to trust me. And do something for me.”
“Joshua, what’s going on?” He says the words carefully.
“I can’t tell you yet. You have to trust me.” Dad’s face is completely still, his eyes fixed on mine. Finally, he nods.
“What do you need?”
“Meet me at the school parking lot today. At noon.”
I look at the digital numbers of the clock mounted to the cafeteria wall: 11:58. I can hear the thud of my heartbeat inside my head, but I’m trying to look calm. Still, I jump when Griggs drops his cafeteria tray onto the table with a rattle of cutlery.
“You still look like crap,” he says, sitting down across from me. “But I’ve decided that I’m not going to let you sit alone anymore. You are literally going to have to pick me up and move me.” He looks at me defiantly.
“You can’t be here,” I say.
“I know,” says Griggs, holding up his hands in protest. “You don’t need any stinking friends. You’re the original lone wolf.” I shoot him a dark look, but he only continues on. “You can be a jerk all you want, but I’m still worried about you. I’m pretty sure I am your only friend in here, and like I said before, it’s a combat zone. You need someone to watch your back. I’m your bodyguard. Except I think I’m protecting you from yourself.”
“No, seriously. Get the hell out of here,” I hiss. I look around at the crowd. Nobody is walking toward me. No sign of Sudo.
“I can’t hear you,” Griggs says, miming plugging his ears.
The clock on the wall flashes 12:00.
“Griggs, I mean it. Go!” He just leans back in his chair, confused.
“Chill out, Josh. Seriously, take a pill.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull up the message and feel cold prickling up and down the back of my neck.
not
what we planned
I look around the cafeteria, scanning the crowd of students hunched over their lunches, standing in the aisles. Which one is he?
Not my fault. one more chance. meet in parking lot?
I grab my backpack and stand up while I’m still texting. Leaving a stunned Griggs behind me, I shove my way through the crowd until I slam open the doors to the parking lot. I slowly turn in a circle. Where is he?
“Josh,” a voice says, and I turn around. He’s my height, shaggy dark hair framing a thin, pale face. Eyes like black beads, focused intently on my face. I’ve seen him around, but he was always in the background. Just part of the crowd of pod people.
Sudo smiles. “I knew you’d want to play my game.”
At that moment Griggs comes up behind Sudo and yells at me. “Dude, now I am seriously pissed! There really is something wrong with—who is this?”
A look of surprise, then fury flashes across Sudo’s face. “You were supposed to be alone!”
Sudo shoulders me aside and starts running across the parking lot. I drop my backpack and chase after him. We’re halfway across the lot when I hear a car door slam and a voice barks out.
“Police! Stop!”
Sudo skids to a halt. My dad, in plain clothes, is holding out his badge and walking toward him. A circle of kids gathers around us. Sudo looks at me, panicked. Like an animal caught in a trap.
“I thought you understood the rules,” he hisses. “I thought you were like me.”
“I’m not,” I say. “It just took me a while to figure that out.”
Only a few minutes later, cops are swarming the area. Sudo is in the back of a blue-and-white police cruiser. His black eyes stare out at me until the car drives away.
Chapter Fifteen
The sunlight gleams off the tallest obsidian spire of the castle. A little bugchopper flitters by, on its way to the mechanic. Below us an army of Kraken tanks and spiderbots slowly winds its way down a highway into the distance.
“You don’t have to do this,” says Jane.