by Harper North
Atlas could be here.
Dead or alive, I don’t know. I think of those yipping animals somewhere outside. I’ve taken time getting to this sector. He could be—
I cut myself off. The guards march me past them and then around an open area in the factor’s middle, where other workers are farming vegetables in the dingy sunlight. Solar panels point to the sky, providing this place with off-the-grid power. But we don’t stop here, either. My captors march me up rusty metal steps and toward a row of offices. One door is propped open with a garbage can, and taped in the center is a paper image of a small, furry, cute creature.
The balding man leers at me, leaning close. “General Willis will see you now.”
“I don’t need an appointment?” I ask.
He responds by wrenching my arm and pulling me toward the door. Though I can resist one human male, I can’t resist the entire group, and I know running is pointless.
Inside the office sits Gen_W.
General Willis in real life. The person who has Atlas captured somewhere in this facility. She looks up from her desk and studies me for a moment. Then her eyes widen as she recognizes who I must be.
My in-game avatar looks very much like I do.
General Willis is a rough, middle-aged woman with a scar running down one side of her face. She rises so fast that her rolling chair flees and hits the wall. “You,” she says, circling around her desk. She stops when we’re facing each other directly. “You’re the Sniper who has The Hermit. That’s very bold, showing up here like this.”
“Yes,” I admit.
“I told you we’d meet again,” General Willis says, a smile curling at the edge of her lips. “But even I didn’t think it would be like this. So, are you here to discuss handing The Hermit over to me?”
I think of my plan to bargain. But Willis’ eyes are pained. Full of hate. In real life, I can tell she’s the sort who doesn’t care who she runs over. Bargaining might not work as well as I hope.
“I’ve stashed The Hermit in the game somewhere you won’t find,” I lie, keeping my face straight. “Did you think I’d come here and hand him to you?”
“For your little friend, maybe,” Willis says, voice dropping to a dangerous pitch. “Where have you stashed him?”
“Oh, I know of some secret maps,” I say. “And your team isn’t going to find them. That’s your hacker team out there, isn’t it?”
General Willis draws so close I can smell her awful breath. “What will make you talk?”
I force a smile. “You’ll have to figure that out.” My heart races. My imagination doesn’t have to work hard to figure out what she’s going to plan for me and Atlas . . . if he’s still alive.
General Willis looks at her guards, who stand behind me. “We’ll have to figure this out, then. Take her to the holding area.”
The guards wrench me from Willis and back down the steps. The steps spiral down to a basement which reeks of moisture and stale air. At the end of a long hallway, a single battery-powered lantern lights the way toward a closed steel door. I sniff, trying to gather as much information as I can, thankful that I do not smell blood.
The balding man opens the door to a dim room with only one tiny, dusty window at near the ceiling. Something shuffles inside, as if in shock, but my eyes have yet to adjust. I’m shoved inside and the door slams behind me, leaving me to fend for myself in the semi-light.
“Who’s there?” a familiar voice asks.
The figure in the room’s corner rises on his feet. He’s as tall as I am, and I tilt my head to get a better look at the male. I make out dark, neatly cut hair, and a faint beard shadowing his chin. Relief floods me. Atlas’ real-life counterpart looks much like his avatar in-game too.
“Atlas?” I ask, my pulse hammering in my chest. My wrists are still bound behind me, so I can’t do anything other than remain anchored to where I stand.
“Actually, my name’s Morrow,” he says and takes a single step toward me.
He’s alive.
A bruise swells around one of his eyes, forming a dark ring. My eyes fully adjust and I realize his arms aren’t bound like mine. He stands, full of strength and composure despite his captivity. Even with the bruised eye, I can tell he’s the same male from the photo. A strange feeling fills my chest as I study him.
“Who are—Raven?” He takes in a sharp breath.
I match his single step forward and hold back the urge to run toward him.
“Why did you come here?” Morrow asks, angry. “I gave you The Hermit and now they have you too.”
I check the room for any cameras but see none. “I couldn’t allow my friend to die,” I tell him. “It would be dishonorable. A Meran cannot live while knowing how they have failed to do all in their power to help.”
“So, you put yourself in harm’s way because it’s a cultural thing,” Morrow says. “Raven, the only thing that’s comforted me while waiting for the worst was knowing you were safe, and now you’re not. You’ve given Willis leverage in all of this. She’ll find a way to get The Hermit from you. Are you going to let your culture determine your actions on that too? If she gets him, billions of people get turned into zombies. She looks down on them. They’re nothing to her.”
The truth is, I didn’t realize just how hateful Willis is before coming here. I’d held out hope of a deal. Now Willis will take The Hermit and go ahead with her plan, deal or no deal. She’s not a woman of honor. Humans, I now remember, are far different than Merans in how they respect the lives of others.
“I learned of her true intentions,” I said, trying not to balk at Morrow’s anger. “We won’t let her succeed. I’m not sure how yet, but Meran pride forbids me from allowing someone like her to do such a thing, if I can help it.”
Morrow stumbles toward me. “I hope so. I’m sorry that I yelled at you. It wasn’t cool.”
And then he opens his arms and envelops me in a strong hug. The strange feeling inside me explodes and I know, despite his anger, he’s glad that I’m here.
CHAPTER 12
MY FIRST INSTINCT is to pull away and out of Morrow’s grasp. It’s almost as if he’s attacking me. Being a bit stronger than him, thanks to Mera’s increased gravity compared to Earth’s, I manage to maneuver out of his grip. Morrow looks at me, and hurt washes over his features. That’s when I realize that I’ve done something considered rude on Earth. The people here have different ways of communicating than we do.
“Raven,” Morrow says. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t,” I say quickly. “I’m not used to how things work on Earth, is all. And my real-life name is Tyisa.”
Morrow repeats my name as if savoring every syllable. Heat rushes to my face. What’s wrong with me?
“Why did you come here?” he asks at last. “And how do Merans show affection, anyway?”
He’s a lot like The Hermit in many ways. It’s no wonder the two of them got along. “I came here because leaving a friend in a dire situation is dishonorable. Friendships are taken seriously on Mera. Aren’t they on Earth?”
“Well, yes.”
“So maybe I can start a new life now,” I say. “That was my original goal. I’m at a crossroads. I’m here and maybe a new life can happen, but I’m also not here for myself. My arrival is to stop Willis and rescue you.” Maintaining a neutral expression, I look around the room for any possible escape. It appears to be secure. But even as I look away from Morrow, the warmth remains in my cheeks, trying to betray me. “We have a mission.”
“I told you about Willis, didn’t I?” Morrow asks. He stands a short distance from me, almost close enough for me to detect his body heat.
The mission. That’s the top focus here. Morrow is my friend and fellow fighter.
“You told me that she wants to disconnect everyone from The Binding and she doesn’t care if she destroys their minds in the process,” I say.
“Yes,” Morrow says, raking a hand through his dark blond hair. “I cou
ldn’t remember what I shouted at you. And if Willis gets The Hermit, she’ll be able to get into the ICC’s systems and make that happen.”
“I know she doesn’t possess any honor,” I say. “It’s in her eyes. Why is she so embittered?”
“Her old life was ruined and her friend and husband didn’t want to escape the ICC with her, content on working like cubicle monkeys all their days,” Morrow explains. “She used to search for The Binding in the game all the time, trying to win a new life. She even knew The Hermit at one point, which is why she was so interested in me. Now she looks down on those who still have their ICC lives. She thinks they’re holding humanity back from evolving or something.”
“So, she’s like Calamyna,” I say, more to myself.
“Who?”
“Calamyna,” I explain. “A Meran who ruled over the island nation of Lagalli a few centuries ago. He would have disabled or deformed people killed in a quest to make the Lagalli people perfect. Willis reminds me of him.”
Morrow frowns. “Earth has had rulers like that too. Willis is like them. It’s her quest in life to take down the ICC by leaving them no one to rule over. And her plan will destroy both of our planets.”
The latch to the holding area door turns with a snap and the door swings inward. Willis stands in the center of it, flanked by five guards who all hold, what appear to be, Earth guns. There’s no way I’ll be able to fight against weapons. Still, my mind spins with everything they have planned.
“It’s time to stop kidding around,” Willis says. “The two of you will go into The Binding and transfer The Hermit to me as originally planned or you will die. I will not make it quick or painless. In fact, Raven, if you choose not to transfer The Hermit to me, you will watch Morrow being torn apart by our dogs before your own demise.” Her eyes are hard.
I look at Morrow. He shakes his head, eyes shining with fear. “Don’t do it.”
It’s very honorable. Perhaps the people of Earth share the Meran’s visions. Self-sacrifice is a pillar on Mera and it only makes the thought of losing Morrow more painful.
“Make your decision,” Willis orders. “We do not have time for games.”
“That’s ironic,” Morrow says. “You’re about to go into one.”
The humor is lost on the guards. They raise their guns to point at Morrow and I wonder if Willis is going to change her mind about killing him later. But they won’t shoot. Without Morrow, Willis will lose her leverage. It’s an empty threat.
But they will take him to the yipping creatures outside—the dogs?
“I’ll go into The Binding with you,” I say at last.
“Good,” Willis says. She motions to the guards. “Make sure they follow. If either tries to run, shoot them in the legs. Punishment for attempted escape will be making the girl watch as dogs tear into Morrow.” She speaks to me and Morrow more than her goons.
Morrow and I walk out of the holding area, back down the dim hallway, and back up into the old factory without a fight. People mill around the computer stations, a few holding supplies that were probably scavenged from outside. The guards lead us to the other side of the building and to a closed door that must have Immersion Boxes behind it.
My heart races. Once Willis has The Hermit, she will have no more use for us. We will both go to the dogs. If we’re fortunate, then she’ll have her guards shoot us first.
I chance a worried look toward Morrow when an explosion rocks the building. Startled, the guard jerks my ropes and yanks me backward. I squint my eyes as dust falls from the pipes and clouds the room. Overhead, lights swing and creak on their rusted hinges. Guards stagger and cock their weapons, turning to face the commotion. People rise from their computer stations and look around in panic. The line of scavengers from outside also stop in shock.
Willis curses as another explosion shakes the world. It’s coming from outside. A piece of roof collapses inward and onto a row of empty bunk beds. Metal screeches as the beds buckle and give under the weight.
“An ICC attack!” she shouts, drawing a pistol from her belt. “Everyone at their stations!” She faces the guards. “Don’t let the prisoners escape!”
Morrow grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze—our cue to attempt escape. The five guards shout and fan out around us. They’re more concerned about the ICC than us. I don’t blame them. The ICC can kill them. Survival instincts take over.
“You’re going nowhere!” Willis shouts, pointing the pistol at my chest.
A third explosion follows, closer this time, and collapses the area around the solar panels. The power goes out and darkness fills the building. People scream and shout while running through the explosion-created dust storm toward cover. I cough as my eyes adjust, and I see Willis’ silhouette a short distance away. She turns and brings her free hand up to her face.
It’s my chance. Letting go of Morrow’s hand, I charge her and grab her pistol wrist. Slugging her across the face with my other hand, I listen to her jaw snap. She drops the gun. I’m glad for my increased strength compared to those who have lived in Earth gravity. Leaning down, I feel around for the pistol and close my hand on the cold metal. Willis claws at me, cursing, but I shove her away and into another body. Both go down.
Morrow grunts.
I turn.
A guard has him in a headlock and he’s struggling to breathe. My heart races. I take a sharp breath, focusing. Morrow’s going to die and I’ll let him if I don’t get it together. My throat closes. A scream of terror tries to work its way out.
But I can’t let it. Control is key.
Morrow’s body blocks me from opening fire on the guard’s chest. Their heads are side by side. Swallowing the scream, I raise the pistol and whip the guard over the head. The guard’s grasp loosens as a fourth explosion thunders from my left. People scream everywhere. Stinging tears burn behind my eyes and I choke on dust. Still, I look around for the nearest exit. We must leave before the whole building collapses.
This time I take Morrow’s hand. We join a stampede of scavengers heading toward what must be the front door. Pale sunlight comes through the front entrance as people shove and kick their way through a forming bottleneck. People are tossed to the floor and trampled over, and I stop, horrified.
“We can’t go that way,” Morrow shouts, echoing my thoughts.
A ragged middle-aged man turns away from the crush and waves to us. “There’s a back exit!”
Morrow and I don’t have a choice but to follow him into the dark and dust. I cough again, barely able to breathe in whatever bits of factory material fill the air. Morrow tucks his mouth and nose inside his shirt. The scavenger man leads us past a tangle of metal wreckage and flames. The acrid stench of smoke joins the rest. This factory will burn with Willis inside, though I feel sorry for the scavengers. It’s clear they’re just trying to survive.
The man pushes open a door and the hinges release a groaning creak. Bright sunlight carves into the shadows and illuminates the dust. He jumps over chunks of fallen building and then runs into the open. Smoke pours out after him and escapes into the sky in a blackened death dance. A fifth explosion rumbles behind us as Morrow and I burst out into the fresh air and daylight, hand in hand. The screams of the trapped echo off the metal walls, lodging deep into my psyche. They’ll emerge later in nightmares and haunt me. I can’t save them and my heart grieves.
“Stop!”
Morrow and I freeze right along with the middle-aged man.
The ICC has this exit guarded. Three men in black uniforms, black helmets, and black boots stand with guns pointed at us. Morrow puts up his free hand and I do the same. The poor middle-aged man backs against the factory as smoke continues to pour out of the open doorway. No one else comes out.
“You are under arrest,” the man in the middle says. Their uniforms remind me of Master Admins. They even wear dark visors to hide their faces. Shameful. No one who does dirty work in a mask can ever be considered brave.
Morrow looks at me, gr
ave.
We’re over.
“Lie on the ground,” the middle guy orders. “Place your hands over your heads, all three of you.”
“Please,” the scavenger man begs. “I don’t know anything. I only find supplies for them. I’m not with The Detached.”
I wish I could help him. He deserves it.
“On the ground, you—”
A loud gunshot pops nearby. Droplets of blood fly from the middle ICC policeman’s chest. He grasps his chest as he falls to his knees and then to the ground, a dark, red puddle expanding around him. The rest happens in slow motion. More gunshots fire off and I instinctually cover my head. Something round strikes the ground, hissing as it gives off thick, green smoke. The strange smoke joins the black air writhing skyward from the door. Silence falls as the other two ICC policemen collapse. There are no more screams inside the burning factory. Smoke and stampeding must have taken all who were still trapped inside.
And then another soldier emerges from the smoke. “Raven,” she shouts.
I snap my gaze toward her. This green smoke doesn’t affect me like that created by fire. This soldier is a young, dark-skinned, rough woman in cammo fatigues, frayed around the edges. She wears a belt of bullets and has a pouch hanging from her hip. The woman has more braids than I’ve seen anyone have on either planet. There’s something familiar about her tough stance and the look in her brown eyes.
“Follow me,” she shouts. “We don’t have long before more of the ICC gets here!” She holds her gun against her chest and steps back over what I realize is a body.
I recognize her voice. It brings me back to the desert temple, the Tenticlas, and the caves. It takes me back to conversations in The Binding.
Coco_Dream21.
“Who’s this?” Morrow asks.
“No time,” I shout, tightening my grasp on Morrow’s hand. Now he has no choice but to follow her through the smoke.
We run through a world veiled in green and pass another factory. Humming sounds buzz from above as ICC shuttles fly overhead, but Coco_Dream lays down smoke grenade after smoke grenade, shielding us. The green vapor mixes with factory smoke, allowing me only glimpses of the smooth, giant pill-like shuttles above floating overhead. Shouts from ICC agents grow fainter as we dodge around piles of old Immersion Boxes, toilets, and other garbage. Smoke thins as we duck into narrow alleys, following close behind Coco_Dream’s agile escape. The thunderous noise begins to calm, though plumes of smoke rise behind us every time I check.