Oasis (The Last Humans Book 1)

by Zales, Dima

  The pine fragrance is in my nostrils, and Phoe is next to me, only she’s ghostly again.

  She turns her back to me, starts jogging, and says over her shoulder, “Run.”

  I jump up and run. Dry pine needles crunch under my shoes. My legs are tired, but not as much as they were toward the end of the game—which makes sense since all that stair climbing wasn’t real.

  “I think I prefer you the way you were in that cave,” I tell Phoe mentally. Speaking out loud might cause me to run out of breath faster, or worse, the Guard might overhear me.

  “Funny you should say that,” she says over her shoulder before her insubstantial figure disappears into thin air. “The only reason I took on this guise at all was to point you in the right direction,” she explains as a voice in my head. “You’re running toward the Barrier. I’ll need all my resources for what I need to do next.”

  “Barrier?” My pulse skips a beat. “Why?”

  “Either you or, more likely, the game came up with a decent idea by using your knowledge.”

  My feet feel cold despite the exertion. “What idea, exactly?” I ask, though given the mention of the Barrier, I think I already know.

  “I can use what little resources I have to temporarily authorize you as an Adult, at least as far as the Barrier is concerned,” Phoe says. “You can then enter their section. Just don’t expect to see the French countryside.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “I’m going to disconnect for a bit as I do this,” Phoe says. “Just keep running straight ahead. It looks safe all the way to the Barrier.”

  “Wait, Phoe,” I whisper. “I don’t want to cross the Barrier.”

  Phoe doesn’t respond.

  I’m running alone.

  “Are you ignoring me on purpose?” I subvocalize.

  No reply.

  So I run.

  And keep running.

  After a time, my pace becomes completely steady, and I feel like an automaton—dodging branches, moving my feet, and breathing, all without any conscious thought. This lack of awareness allows my thoughts to wander. At first, I go over everything that happened. After I tire of doing that, I start asking myself questions: How long is this forest? Were we at the farthest point from the Barrier before, or did Phoe set me on a diagonal path?

  My foot catches on a root, and I trip, barely managing to avoid slamming into a big stump to my left. I hit the ground awkwardly, my palms sliding on the pine needles and dirt.

  My ankle objects violently. I see white specks, as though I’ve been staring at the sun. Blinking the whiteness away, I turn my head as I start to get up—and freeze in place.

  There’s a person staring at me from behind the stump.

  A very familiar person.

  His mouth is open so wide I can’t help but say, “Dude, you realize something might fly into your maw, right?”

  Liam gets up and comes toward me.

  “You okay?” His voice is rough. “Where the hell did you come from? Why did you run away?” His tone gets progressively more incredulous. “Why the uckfay are you grinning at me like that? Don’t you understand the uckingfay trouble you’re in?”

  Only when he points it out do I realize that I am indeed smiling. I can’t help it. Seeing him, hearing him misuse Pig Latin, solidifies a single thought in my mind.

  Liam is okay.

  Rationally, I already knew it was a game-inspired figment of my imagination who fell from the tower. Fear is rarely rational, however, especially when it comes to that kind of loss. Given how realistic the cursed game was, on some level, I felt like Liam was gone.

  “Help me up,” I say, fighting the urge to say something sappy. “What are you doing here?”

  Liam forgets his questions and helps me get to my feet, muttering, “I wasn’t going to help those uckersfay find you. I’d sooner sniff Owen’s feet.”

  Leaning on Liam’s arm for support, I test stepping on my right foot.

  He’s watching me intently, so I try not to cringe too much.

  He narrows his eyes, so I let go of his arm and take a tentative step on my own. Right away, I have to swallow a yelp. I don’t want Liam to know I’m fighting nausea and the desire to sit back down.

  “Come with me, dude.” Liam’s eyebrows draw together into what Mason and I nicknamed ‘the forehead caterpillar.’ “I’ll take you straight to the nurse’s office.”

  “No, you won’t,” I say. “I’m not going anywhere near the Adults.”

  “Dude? Have you gone completely insane?” His forehead caterpillar gets all wrinkly. “The longer you stay out here, the worse it’ll be for you.”

  “Trust me. There’s no way things can get worse for me, no matter what I do.”

  As I say the words, the hopelessness of my situation fully dawns on me.

  Unlike ancient fugitives, I have very limited options when it comes to escape. Even if Phoe manages to get me into the Adults’ side of Oasis, we’re still talking about a very small surface of habitable land that they would have to search before they find me.

  “Seriously,” Liam says, and I realize I missed something he said. “I ought to knock you out and take you back for your own good.”

  “Liam, trust me, I can’t go back.” My voice cracks, and I pause to clear my throat before continuing. “Please, promise you won’t tell them where I am.”

  “But you’re not well.” He chews his cheek. “You can’t expect me to ignore—”

  A rustling sound comes from the trees behind the stump.

  Without fully realizing what I’m doing, I dive for the place where Liam was sitting earlier and crouch, ducking my head. The pain in my ankle is so sharp I’m surprised I haven’t fainted.

  The sound of someone moving through the forest gets louder.

  Liam steps toward me but doesn’t look at me. His eyes are glued to a point far above my head, behind the stump.

  He stops right next to the stump, so close I could reach out and tickle his leg were I in a more jovial mood.

  “Liam,” a horrifyingly familiar nasally voice says. “Were you just talking to someone?”

  I recognize this voice. After the game, I don’t think I’ll ever not shudder at hearing it.

  “Hi, Instructor Filomena,” Liam says. “There’s something you need to know.” He makes his hands into fists, relaxes them, turns them into fists again, and then sticks his hands in his pockets. “It’s about Theo.”

  17

  Forgetting about the pain in my ankle, I coil up, ready to pounce, but Liam is standing in my way. It would be impossible for me to spring without knocking him over.

  “Theodore?” Instructor Filomena’s voice rises with each syllable. “What about him?”

  “I saw him,” Liam says. “I was speaking of my discovery into my Screen.”

  “You saw him?” she repeats. “Why are we standing here then? Where is he?”

  Liam takes his hand out of his pocket. Raising it, he points southeast. “He was running that way. I yelled for him to stop. He looked at me but kept running.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Do you know what happened? Why he ran?”

  “Don’t you worry about that.” Instructor Filomena tries but, in my opinion, fails to sound soothing. “Come with me. We can cover a wider area if we work together.”

  “Okay.” Liam takes a step to the left and stops next to the stump—I’m guessing to block Instructor Filomena’s view of me. I hear shuffling footsteps and realize she’s probably heading in the direction Liam pointed in. After a few moments, Liam follows her.

  I sit quietly, not daring to even sneak a glance at them. I massage my ankle as I wait and wonder what I’m going to do next.

  A shadowy figure suddenly looms over me. I jump, nearly smacking my head against the stump.

  “Sorry,” Phoe says. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “You didn’t,” I say and attempt to swallow my heart back down my throat. “I thrive on sudden movemen
ts and menacing shadows.”

  She chuckles, raising her transparent hands to her head with no face. Now that I know what she would look like had this been my man cave, or had she possessed enough resources, I can picture that sly, crooked smile.

  It’s an oddly pleasant visual.

  Phoe clears her throat. “Anyway, you’re now authorized to enter the Adult section.”

  “Great.” I rub the back of my head, where it touched the stump. “One thing you never told me is why I would go there. Won’t I be like the proverbial lamb going to the slaughter?”

  “Not necessarily. They won’t think to look for you there. At least not for a while.”

  I use the tree stump to help myself to my feet. My ankle hurts when I put my weight on it.

  “Shit,” Phoe says. “You can’t run like that.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I’ll be lucky if I can limp my way there.”

  “This development just strengthens the need for you to cross the Barrier.” Her ghostly form makes a motion of running a jerky hand through her hair. “I can get you transport once we’re on the Adults’ side.”

  I take a step and wince. “Damn. This really hurts.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t ease your pain with my current resources.” Her voice is full of regret. “Not without undoing the anti-tampering protection I put in place per your request.”

  I carefully balance my weight when I take the next step. I’d rather be in pain than have my mind messed with.

  Suddenly, Phoe’s spine straightens, and she runs ahead. “Come here,” she exclaims. “There!” She points to the ground.

  I limp over and look at where she’s pointing.

  “That’s a dry stick,” I say, not even trying to hide my disappointment. She was so excited I was expecting to see an invisibility cloak or something.

  “An invisibility cloak would require extremely complex manipulations of the Augmented Reality interface—and for tons of people. With my meager resources, I have trouble dealing with just yours. This—” She makes a showy two-palm gesture at the dry branch. “This here is a walking stick.” She’s using the overexcited style of speech common in ancient advertisements. “Like all the famous explorers used.”

  “More like a cane,” I mutter but pick up the stick.

  I take a tentative step with the assistance of the stick.

  Then another.

  “Much better,” I reluctantly admit.

  “Good,” Phoe says. “The Barrier isn’t far now.”

  * * *

  “We just passed the threshold, the place where fear would’ve stopped you had my authorization not worked,” Phoe says as I see the shimmer of the Barrier in the distance. She looks at me worriedly. “You don’t feel fear, do you?”

  I shrug. “Nothing outside what’s normal. And by that, I mean normal for someone who has the whole population of Oasis chasing after him and who fell to his death the last time he went this way.”

  “I’ll take that as a sign that my manipulations worked,” Phoe says. “You clearly have the Adult privileges required to cross this spot.”

  Mumbling about why I’m justified in being afraid, I move forward with the help of my stick/cane.

  After a couple of minutes, a long stretch of cut grass with no trees that ends in the Barrier comes into view.

  “I know,” Phoe says. “I also dislike the lack of cover, but it can’t be helped. We can’t afford to walk toward the section where the Barrier crosses the forest.” She glances down at my ankle.

  We walk in tense silence until we get to the clearing. “Theo, wait—“ Phoe starts saying as I step out from behind the last tree, but it’s too late.

  I see the Guard, who must’ve just stepped out from the tree line to the left of me, some sixty feet away.

  “Maybe he didn’t see us,” Phoe says urgently. “Back away slowly.”

  I begin complying when she hisses, “Never mind. Get to the Barrier.”

  I glance at the Guard and see that he’s running toward me.

  He must’ve seen me after all.

  I grit my teeth and limp toward the Barrier as fast as my ankle and cane will allow.

  The distance I have to cover is about fifteen feet. A quarter of the distance between the Guard and me, I reassure myself.

  “Except if you take into account his current velocity, he will catch you,” Phoe says. “You have to run.”

  I attempt to increase my speed, but my ankle pulses in waves of aching complaints, and the wooden stick feels as if it’s about to break. I steal a glance at the Guard.

  He’s closer than I expected.

  Desperation coils in my chest. Stopping, I raise the stick and hurl it like a spear at my pursuer.

  He ducks to the side to avoid it, and his foot catches on a protruding piece of rock. I watch in amazement as he sprawls across the ground, sliding forward.

  I bought myself a few precious seconds.

  I resume my rapid limping. Without the stick, the pulsing in my ankle morphs into a violent throbbing.

  It pays off, though. I get so close that if I were to reach my hand out, I’d touch the Barrier. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the Guard is struggling to his feet.

  Without testing the Barrier as I did in the game, I rush through it.

  Nothing happens.

  I don’t feel as if I walked through a bubble, or wetness, or anything else.

  One moment I was on the Youth’s side of the Barrier, and the next I’m on the Adults’.

  “That’s because the Barrier is not real,” Phoe says next to me. “It’s Augmented Reality that works on the same principles as Screens and my current image.” She sweeps her hands down her body.

  I don’t respond. I’m looking at a stretch of grass that leads into a pine forest, and it hits me how unlike the game everything is. Aside from the Barrier working differently, this side of Oasis looks like a mirror image of the one I came from.

  “Well, yeah. Did you expect the French countryside to make an appearance?” Phoe says. “Now, quickly, get on that.” She points to a metal disk lying on the ground. “Remember that Guard? Just because you can’t see him through the Barrier doesn’t mean he’s not about to come through it.”

  Her reminder jolts me back into action, and I limp to the disk she pointed at.

  “It’s just a shiny circle of metal,” I whisper after examining it cautiously. “How do I ‘get on it’?”

  “Given your injury,” she says, “you should sit in the center of it, probably in the lotus pose.”

  My mind is full of questions, but I step on the disk. A shimmering bubble forms around its edges.

  “That’s to make sure you stay safely inside,” Phoe says, answering the question I was about to ask. “Now sit.”

  I get into the lotus pose, which allows me to massage my injured ankle.

  A shimmering ghostly copy of a disk appears on the ground. Phoe steps on it and sits down in the same pose.

  “Go like this,” she says and raises her hand, palm down, keeping her fingers tightly together.

  I do as she showed me.

  My disk twitches under me.

  “Don’t move,” she says as I’m about to jump up. “The field around you won’t let you get off anyway.”

  The disk moves smoothly and slowly, as though I’m on an ice slope instead of grass.

  Then I realize I’m not sliding on the grass; I’m actually hovering above it.

  Phoe begins to hover as well.

  At first she’s just an inch above the top of the tallest grass stalk; then she’s almost a foot off the ground.

  Before I get a chance to voice any objections, the same thing happens to me.

  I’m about a foot off the ground, which is low enough not to activate my panic, but high enough to prove a frightening point.

  I’m sitting on some sort of flying device. It must be the transport Phoe mentioned earlier.

  “Don’t dwell on that,” Phoe says. “Turn your hand to
the right like this”—she tilts her palm rightward—“to turn right.”

  I carefully tilt my hand, and the disk rotates in the same direction.

  “Same with the left,” Phoe explains and tilts her hand the other way.

  I turn my palm to the left and the disk straightens at first, but then tilts to the left.

  “Shit,” Phoe says suddenly and points at the Barrier.

  The Guard steps out of it and heads straight for us.

  “Do this.” Phoe points her palm upward, at about a seventy-five-degree angle. In response to her gesture, Phoe’s disk whooshes upward at the exact same angle as her palm.

  I look at where the Guard was.

  He’s no longer there.

  He’s a foot in front of me, his hand extended.

  If I don’t do what Phoe said, he’ll grab me.

  I point my palm upward, though at a narrower angle than Phoe’s.

  The disk whooshes over the Guard’s head, leaving his outstretched hand empty. He leaps after me, but I’m already too high for him to reach.

  “You’re moving smoothly,” Phoe says. Somehow she’s flying next to me, even though a moment ago she was far away. “Do this to add speed.” She thrusts her palm forward in a jerky motion, looking like an ancient martial artist.

  Her disk speeds up. Given how fast it’s going, its flight is surprisingly smooth, reminding me of a stingray swimming after its prey.

  I hesitantly repeat her gesture.

  My flying device moves faster too—much faster.

  What’s worse is that due to the slight slope of my palm, I also gain altitude.

  “There wasn’t a choice,” Phoe says soothingly. “Not unless you wanted to fly into the trees.”

  She’s right. I clear the nearby trees, flying a couple of feet above their tops.

  “What now?” I think, mostly to distract myself from my overly rapid breathing.

  “I have no idea.” Phoe’s voice is inside my head. I guess she didn’t want to pretend to scream over the wind in our ears. “My plan of hiding you here is shot to shit, though.”

  I nod, wondering how I can feel the wind in my ears if I’m enclosed in a protective bubble. This thought is interrupted by the enormous city I spy in the distance.