Side Quest
Page 28
He was home.
FORTY-SIX
Nothing is Clean Cut
ON THE COAST, peace rolled in with every cycle of the sun, with every breeze, with every wave. There’s just something about an ocean view—an endless horizon of possibility, washing right up to your doorstep, right up to your feet. The grit of sand in your shoes, reminding you that nothing is clean cut, nothing is black and white. Nothing is really that important. That there’s always some space between here and there—some room to wiggle. Some room to take your coffee at noon or your beer at two forty-five or to stare out at the fading mix of something and nothing, letting your mind wander away.
Mitch’s ocean view had improved, dramatically, after the events that brought an end to the game world of Skirmish. Mac had paid him—Mac paid well—and Mitch’s coffin of a trailer was now just a memory, a dot he could see through binoculars at sunset when the light hit the old, grimy sliding glass doors just so. A dot he could see right from the deck of that big old house he’d always dreamed of, just up the coast, the house he’d always wanted. A house that was now all his.
The place was massive, and Mitch had spent the past few months trying to figure out what on Earth he’d do with each room. He’d never been a man to collect things, but this home was asking to be filled with furniture and memories and purpose. With some rooms, he’d decided to just keep the doors closed, not wanting the stress of emptiness to bother him. The echo of a barren corner had always called to him, asking—if not begging—to be brought back to life. Maybe he’d answer that call next year. Or the year after.
The deck wrapped around a rocky cliff, hanging like a daredevil over the crashing water that splashed just a hundred feet below. The wood had faded from brown to light gray, bleached by the sun years ago, never to return to its former glory. But it was still sturdy, still solid, still perfect for gazing out at the passing dolphins or the stars or just nothing at all.
A breeze flowed in through the curtains almost every night. Cool whispers and hushes of life, enough to keep Mitch company while he read an old book or watched an old movie on the wall screen. The nights when the wind was silent were when Mitch felt most alone. Nothing bothered him quite as much as the quiet. He didn’t know why, didn’t really care why. He just wanted the wind to come back, to fill the room again. Sometimes it answered, sometimes it didn’t return until the morning.
After a few months, he’d felt a shift. He’d spent months in full digital detox mode, but the allure of connection called out to him. He started with news headlines—first, just allowing himself an hour a week, but then bleeding over to daily checks. Then twice daily. Then the first thing in the morning, right when he woke up. Searching for any news about Mac or the team. About Karma Systems and what was coming next, but there wasn’t much to find. Karma’s public-facing PR strategy was a mix of holding back official announcements while pumping their user base with cryptic messages hinting at big things on the horizon. It was a devious plan, probably engineered by Mac himself to keep users from jumping on to other platforms until things were ready. And it seemed to be working.
Mitch spent every morning in the shadows of the sunrise and began to see patterns in the waves. Not organic ripples like he used to see, now he saw opportunity and weakness. How would he get from point A to point B, given the pace and mixture of the wave frequency? If he were to stage an attack on this very home, would the best strategy be by land, or sea, or air? Could he scale the cliff? Or would it be better to just drop a bomb and bring the whole thing crashing right down onto the rocks?
Then one morning, as he walked past his workstation on bare feet, padding towards the kitchen for a fresh glass of water, he heard it. It was a ping—the first ping he’d heard in a while. When he’d gone off the grid, he’d arranged his settings so that only select, important messages would ever come through. He hadn’t received one since he could remember. But the ping was unmistakable. There was someone reaching out to him. Someone with something to say.
He stared blankly at the station, ignoring its calling at first. He continued to the kitchen and poured the water, taking a long drink. He felt his pulse beating. Not knowing was too much. You’re going to open it, dummy. Might as well get it over with. He walked back in, giving the power button a decisive tap, and watched the screen flicker to life with a faded blue haze.
ONE NEW PRIORITY MESSAGE
He gave a long look back out at the ocean and turned back to the screen to open the message.
PRIORITY MESSAGE
AUTHOR: “FUSE” (FUSE22BOOM)
SUBJECT: FIND YOUR NEXT BATTLE TODAY, ASSHOLE
He read through the text, his eyes growing wider with each line. He pushed the glass of water to the side, nodding as he read.
Hell, yes.
Sprinting across the hall, Mitch flung open the door leading to his old Karma Systems VR rig, ripping off the bed sheet protecting it from dust. Flipping the power switches lined up across the back, he watched as the processors sprung back to life, good as new. Mitch slid into the chair, securing his helmet and checking a few last diagnostics before typing a quick set of commands—a login pattern he hadn’t used in some time, but that was still so familiar, he could do it in his sleep. But this time, it felt different.
The login came with a rush, with a shiver up his spine, one he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time since he could remember, he wasn’t logging in because he had to. He was logging in because he couldn’t wait. Because he just had to know what was waiting for him inside.
Like a big, shiny gift-wrapped box slid under the tree on Christmas-fucking-morning.
THE END
Author’s Note:
Thanks for your interest in SIDE QUEST. I hope you had as much fun reading the book as I had writing it.
Say, if you liked what you saw in this crazy story and want, need, or just kind of casually desire future SIDE QUEST books, just let me know that you enjoyed this one. I have future books for the series sketched out, but the best—and easiest—way to let me know you’ll read them is to please leave a review on Amazon or Goodreads.
What? You already left one? You … you know what you are? A goddamned hero, that’s what. Cheers to you, dear reader, and thanks.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Books don’t happen by themselves. I’d love to thank my wonderful wife and kids for letting me carve out writing time—they’re the best people in the world. I’d also like to thank Jake Clark for the amazing cover, Lauren Ellerbee for edits, and others that have helped encourage my silly writing habits, especially Andrew Moore, Edwin Bertotti, Max Yehaskel, Beth Yehaskel, Jen Bussinger, Jen Largent, Justin Marshall, Kristie Frankland Eggebroten, Kim Knorr Collins, Ryan Cush, and anyone else that I may have forgotten. Thanks so much, everyone.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Christopher Kerns is a lifelong nerd. He is the author of SIDE QUEST and the Haylie Black series (CRASH ALIVE and CRASH INTO PIECES.) He writes fiction about the intersection of interesting characters and technology, and what happens when the two collide. He has over two decades of experience as a technology consultant, data researcher, and software executive. His thoughts and opinions on technology have been featured in The New York Times, USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, CNBC, and more. He lives in Austin, Texas with his lovely wife and two troublemaking kids, filling his spare time absorbing every geeky book, m
ovie, and video game he can get his hands on.
Website: www.ChristopherKerns.com
Facebook: facebook.com/ChristopherKerns.author
Twitter: @chriskerns
Email: chris@chris-kerns.com
PSN gamertag: bbqscientist
Table of Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
The Skirmish Manual: Introduction
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
The Skirmish Manual - Roles, Part 1
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
The Skirmish Manual - Roles, Part 2
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
The Skirmish Manual - Roles, Part 3
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
The Skirmish Manual - Roles, Part 4
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
The Skirmish Manual - Roles, Part 5
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
The End, review ask
Acknowledgments
Acknowledgments
About the Author