The Trust (The Downlode Heroes Book 2)

by Mikey Campling

  The message can’t be genuine; it must be some of Sue Derrick’s bullshit: a mind game, part of the test. “I’ve got to ignore it,” Sanjay whispers. “I’ve got to stick to the mission.”

  And in that instant, a stab of pain sears across her scalp like a shard of steel slicing into her skull. She grinds her teeth hard against the agony, trapping the scream that threatens to burst from her throat. No! She won’t give in. She won’t falter. They can throw anything they want at her, but she’s tough enough to take it.

  The pain in her head eases, but now a sharp burning sensation races along her arms, tingling her fingers. She looks down at her hands, and a pathetic whimper escapes from her lips. Her skin is crumbling, cracking apart. Tiny fragments of her fingers are falling away, tumbling through the air and dropping to the ground like grains of spilled salt. She holds her hand up and stares, her eyes round with fear. Her skin darkens, blistering, splitting apart, and when it peels away, the flesh beneath shrivels and shrinks like raw meat on a scorching griddle. She tries to form a fist and her sinews twist and snap with a sickening squelch. Her darkened flesh collapses, disintegrating, becoming nothing more than a mass of fine, black ash. She holds her hand as far away as she can, and the powdery ash slides away, pouring onto the jungle floor, the dark particles pattering as they scatter across the leafy undergrowth.

  Sanjay closes her eyes; screws them tight shut. A surge of ravening panic floods through every vein, every nerve. She pushes it down, but the fear is hungry, and it plucks at the frayed edges of her mind; it wants to consume her, to devour her, heart and soul.

  I’ve got to fight it, she tells herself. If I can just think straight for one second…if I can just… But another wave of unbearable pain races through her body, and she cries out in misery. She’s beaten. There’s only one way to end this nightmare. It means abandoning her plans and giving up on everything she’s fought so hard to achieve. But she has no choice. It’s over.

  She fights to focus her will, forcing her mind to concentrate on two simple words. A single thought: Log off.

  Sanjay opens her eyes a little, peering through the fog of pain. Soon, the jungle will fade away, and she’ll be safe. But nothing happens. Log off, she thinks. Log off! Emergency override. Log off.

  And now a new message appears on her UI, and Sanjay gasps, her breath trapped in her chest:

  PERMISSION DENIED

  MALWARE DETECTED - SYSTEM QUARANTINE IN OPERATION

  “What? No! I don’t under—” But she can’t complete her sentence. A spike of freezing agony needles her hands and digs its claws into her arms. She doesn’t want to look, doesn’t want to acknowledge the harsh reality of this inhuman torture. But she has to see.

  Her hands are shriveling faster now, shrinking as her skin and muscle turns to dry ash and drops away. What’s left of her skin clings in tatters to bare bones. And finally, she understands.

  She swallows hard then opens her voice channel. “Sue, I need help.”

  Sue answers immediately, her voice wavering, her words weighed down with barely restrained fear. “Sanjay! I don’t…I don’t know what’s happening. Something’s gone badly wrong. I’ve never seen a lockdown like this before. You’d better sit tight. Forget the mission. Just…stay where you are. We’ll come and find you, then we’ll figure something out.”

  “It’s too late,” Sanjay says. “Sue—the lockdown. The quarantine. It’s me. I’m infected.”

  There’s a pause. A wash of static in Sanjay’s earpiece. “I don’t understand, Sanjay. What are you saying? Are you hurt?”

  Sanjay lets out a low moan of despair. “It’s my fault. I had the malware all along. It must have been in the mod Marcus gave me. I brought it in with me. It’s all my fault.”

  “That’s not possible,” Sue says. “I scanned you myself. I scan everybody. You were clean when you came in.”

  “It’s Scarlett. She’s too clever for you. She must have hidden it somehow, deep in the code. But now…now it’s…” Sanjay can’t finish her sentence. She takes a shaky breath and licks her dry lips. What can she say that will make sense? What can she say or do to make things right? Scarlett must have given her the AGILE mod for some reason; she must have had a plan in mind. So why did she infect it with malware strong enough to destroy its host? Did she want the system to lockdown? And why would she give out a mod that’s programmed to order her own execution?

  Sanjay shakes her head. “Sue, you’ve got to help me. I’m falling apart. The malware’s going to fry my brain. You’ve got to get hold of someone. Tell them where to find me in real life. Maybe they can log me off from the outside. Maybe they can kill the mal—” She breaks off and lets out a stifled scream, a violent spasm shuddering through her body.

  “Sanjay?” Sue calls out. “Are you there?”

  A jarring blast of white noise erupts in Sanjay’s earpiece, and a warning appears in her UI:

  COMMS INOPERATIVE

  Sanjay chokes back a sob. “Just tell them to find me,” she says, and her voice cracks with emotion. “Tell them…I’m not Sanjay.”

  But there’s no reply, only the shush and sputter of static as the white noise fades away. “Tell them,” Sanjay says, although it serves no purpose. “Please.”

  She sobs, and a tear rolls down her cheek. “Tell them I’m not Sanjay. I stole her avatar. I shouldn’t have done it, but I thought she wouldn’t notice. She never logs in anyway. And I just…I wanted to fit in. I wanted to join the program, but I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t even old enough. And Samantha…she told me to do it. She said I could be strong. She said I could be anyone I wanted.”

  Abruptly the white noise is silent. Sanjay’s eyes dart across her UI, but nothing has changed; her comms are still out of action. She’s still trapped.

  Please, just let it be over, she thinks. I can’t take this anymore. And without warning, the pain eases, retreating from her fingertips, fading away. Sanjay closes her eyes. Yes. She can think again. She can rest and recover. She takes a deep breath, savoring the sweet air.

  And someone speaks to her. Someone close. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

  Sanjay’s eyes fly open. “Who the hell are you?”

  The man standing in front of her is too old to be a student, too unkempt to be a member of the staff. His gray hair, swept back from his high forehead, is thin and straggly, and his sallow skin is creased with deep lines, but the glint in his eyes suggests a razor sharp mind.

  Sanjay takes a step back, keeping her eyes on the man, watching his hands, searching for a weapon, but the man simply smiles. “How are you feeling—any improvement?”

  Sanjay doesn’t need to look down to check; the burning sensation is already seeping away from her hands, and the textured grip of her rifle feels good against her fingers. Her head is better too. The throbbing fog of pain is clearing from her mind, and her energy levels are rising fast. She can do something about this situation. She can take control.

  Sanjay raises her rifle, but she holds it across her body. “Listen, I don’t know who the hell you are, but you’d better have a damned good explanation for all this, or I’ll be forced to draw my own conclusions.”

  “Let’s take things slowly, shall we?” the man says, and his voice is dangerously soft. “To begin with, let me assure you that I mean you no harm.”

  “I don’t believe that for one second. Who are you and what do you want?”

  The man raises his eyebrows in amusement. “You don’t need to know my name. Indeed, it might be better if you didn’t. But for the moment you can call me…Jack. I always liked that name.”

  Sanjay adjusts her grip on her rifle, and she risks a quick look from side to side. “All right, Jack—are you here on your own?”

  “You’ll forgive me if I decline to answer, but I don’t really see any benefit in providing you with that information.”

  “Don’t try and bullshit me,” Sanjay snaps. “After what I’ve been through, I’m on a hair trigger.”

/>   Jack looks her up and down. “Yes, I’m sorry for any distress, but the moment you defied your orders, your ordeal became unavoidable.” He smiles. “I had to get here somehow, and since you were kind enough to provide me with an entrance point, I did my best to get here as quickly as I could. But you can’t rush these things. You know how it is.”

  Sanjay narrows her eyes for a second, then she swings her gun around, keeping it at waist height but pointing the barrel squarely at Jack’s chest. “I’ve had enough. I’m getting out of here, and so are my friends. So whatever you did to the system, you’d better fix it right now.”

  “Or what—you’ll shoot me?” Jack lets out a contemptuous chuckle. “Be my guest.”

  Sanjay doesn’t hesitate. In one smooth action, she shoulders her rifle and squeezes the trigger. But there’s no recoil. No sharp crack as a round pierces the air. And Jack’s smile doesn’t waver by a hair’s breadth.

  Sanjay lets out a hiss of frustration. “Goddammit!”

  “You can’t hurt me,” Jack says. “To all intents and purposes, my avatar is just an offshoot of yours for the time being. And you can’t shoot yourself in here—the protocols just won’t allow it.”

  Sanjay lowers her rifle. “We’ll think of some way to deal with you. I’m not here alone. I’m with a whole team and they’re on their way here. You won’t get away from all of us.”

  Jack gives her a grim smile. “We’ll see about that.”

  “You’re goddamned right.” Sanjay activates her voice channel, but it’s useless; the error message remains stubbornly in place. She diverts her attention to her UI and pulls up her tactical map, quickly locating the rest of the team. They’re still some distance away, but she could run to meet them. Together, they could figure this thing out. But her map isn’t responding properly. Sue said she was bringing the team to find her, but it looks as though they’re all rooted to the spot. Has the display frozen? Has Jack meddled with her UI somehow? Or is everyone else trapped, held in place by some strange power? Sanjay growls under her breath and stalks toward Jack. “What the hell have you done? And what’s happened to my friends? Are they all right? Because I’m warning you—”

  But Jack holds up his hand to interrupt her. “Oh please, let’s drop all this macho nonsense. It’s just a façade, a pathetic pretense. And you’re in no position to warn anyone, Thomas.”

  Sanjay flinches. “What? What did you just…?”

  “Come on, Thomas. We both know who you are. So let’s drop this feeble act—it’s getting in the way.”

  Thomas swallows hard and looks down at his hands, his arms. It’s all right; Sanjay’s avatar is still there. In this scenario he’s Corporal Sanjay, a badass player, a tough fighter with an athletic body and a strong mind, and he can get through this. If he clings to Sanjay, to the idea of her, he can beat this old man. I can still win, he tells himself, and he glares at Jack. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’d better shut up. Right now.”

  Jack rolls his eyes. “OK. We’ll do this the hard way. Your name is Thomas Bentham, and you made it into Northridge by the skin of your teeth. You’re pretty good with cybernetics, and your score for your last coding assignment was the highest in your class, but somehow no one really gave you any credit for it.”

  “How did you…? Did you hack into my records?”

  “You really don’t get it, do you?” Jack sighs. “I know everything I need to know about you, Thomas, and quite a bit more besides. After all, we’ve had so many enjoyable chats on the phone.” He gives Thomas a rueful smile. “In fact, I quite enjoyed being Samantha.”

  “No! You’re lying!”

  “I’m afraid not. But it’s no surprise you were taken in. Her voice was one of the best synths I’ve ever made, and once I’d got the annoying Californian inflections under control, it was really rather convincing.”

  Thomas shakes his head. A roar of frustration builds in his chest, but his throat is too tight to let it out.

  “You know?” Jack goes on. “It was almost a shame to send you creeping outdoors at all hours of the day and night, but that was your choice, not mine. I just told you to find somewhere private.” He grins and adopts a feminine tone. “We mustn’t be overheard, Tommy. They just wouldn’t understand.”

  A cloud of blind fury blossoms in Thomas’s mind, and he drops his rifle and charges at Jack, his fists flailing. But the older man is ready for him, and he grabs Thomas’s arm and turns him around, using Thomas’s own momentum against him. Thomas loses his footing, and as he tries to regain his balance Jack grabs him from behind and wraps his arm around Thomas’s throat. Thomas chokes, struggling for breath, fighting for his life. He grabs hold of Jack’s arm, but it’s no use. The man’s grip is like a vise, and Thomas’s strength is failing, slipping away while his lungs burn and his blood pounds in his ears.

  “You see, Thomas, I understand you,” Jack growls. “I know what it’s like to be picked on, to be overlooked. And I know what it’s like to want to be someone else. Someone smarter. Someone stronger.”

  Thomas gags. He beat his hands frantically against Jack’s arm, but there’s no force in the blows. His arms are growing weaker, his body going limp, his weight sagging against Jack’s iron grip. It’s too late, he thinks. I lost.

  And Jack lets him go. Thomas falls, a dead weight, landing flat on his face. But the damp ground is soft, and the air rushes into his lungs, cool and fresh and sweet. He coughs and rolls over onto his back, but he doesn’t get up, and he doesn’t try to speak.

  Jack stands over him, his mouth twisted in a scornful grimace. “You thought you’d made it, didn’t you? You thought you’d become someone special, someone to be reckoned with. But it wasn’t real, Thomas, and you’re just a coward. You couldn’t face yourself, so you became someone else. And all the time you were hiding inside Sanjay’s avatar, playing a character you’d cooked up from comic books and combat games.” He pauses and his eyes lose focus. “In fact, I think it’s time we saw the real you, Thomas. I think it’s time to dispense with Ms. Sanjay’s avatar, charming as it is.” He smiles. “There. That should do it.”

  Thomas turns his head away, and he lets out a low groan as a shudder snakes its way through his body. He clenches his fists and Sanjay’s fingernails bite into his palms, but he can’t stop his hands from trembling violently. Sanjay’s avatar is being torn from him, savagely ripped away, and waves of red-hot pain race across his skin, a thousand tiny pinpricks piercing his helpless flesh. Panic scatters his thoughts, and an insane impulse makes him scramble to his feet. But a dizzying swell of nausea churns his stomach, and the ground shifts beneath him. He staggers sideways, throwing out his arms to regain his balance. He clutches the fallen tree for support, and it’s his hand resting on the gnarled bark: Thomas’s fingers, Thomas’s arms. Sanjay’s lithe body has deserted him, leaving his own poor physique in its place. And he’s finished. Beaten. His darkest secret exposed and his deepest desires laid bare.

  And when he looks up at Jack, the older man laughs. He laughs in Thomas’s face.

  “Shut up!” Thomas cries, and his voice cracks with emotion. “You’ve got no right to do this to me. You’re a goddamned maniac!”

  Jack stops laughing, and his expression is suddenly stony, his eyes burning with a cold hatred. “You have no idea what I am, Thomas. You have no idea who I am, or what I’m capable of. But thanks to that mod you were so keen to get your hands on, we’re joined at the hip you and me, so you need to understand that from now on, I’m calling the shots.” He pauses just long enough to bare his teeth in a grim parody of a smile. “But let me reassure you of something. The code that allowed me to come here—the nasty little virus that ate into your avatar a few minutes ago and almost killed you in the process—I developed it myself. It’s very sophisticated and it hasn’t gone away. It’s hibernating right now, but if I don’t disable it in a little under an hour, it’s going to wake up, and then it’s going to tear you apart, piece by tiny piece. So i
f you want to get out of this alive, Thomas, you’ll do exactly as I say. And what I say is this—you’re going to cross the bridge, then you’re going to make your way quickly to Scarlett’s hideaway, and you’re going to kill her. And in case you’re wondering—no, you don’t have any choice. No choice whatsoever.”

  CHAPTER 43

  HANK’S INTEGRATION INTO THE JUNGLE SCENARIO is over almost as soon as it starts; the lush, green jungle materializing all around him, while the alarmed cries of his fellow students still ring in his ears. “What the hell was all that about?” he asks out loud. But when he looks around, there’s no one to reply.

  “Anybody here?” he calls out. “Anybody?” He listens, striving to hear above the distant murmur of leaves in the breeze, and the faint chittering of a million insects, but there are no sounds that could be human. “I guess I’m on my own,” he says. “I knew something was wrong.”

  He runs his hands through his hair and takes a deep, steadying breath. There’s no need to freak out, he tells himself. After all, this scenario is only a demo, so even if there is a glitch, it can’t be anything too bad. And maybe the other students called out to complain because they couldn’t log in for some reason, while his swanky new headset gave him the edge over everyone else.

  Hank allows himself a small smile. It looks like he’s done something right for once and got ahead of the pack. It’s about time, he tells himself. But his smile quickly fades, turning into a frown. Where the hell is everyone? What’s taking them so long?

  He rolls his shoulders and tries to relax. “They’ll be here in a second. Might as well get ready.” He checks his inventory, but it’s empty. Well, that sucks. It looks like this demo really is stripped back to the basics. It’s a shame, but it makes sense; Stewart said the scenario was configured for a brief introduction, so it figures that they aren’t going to need any gear.

  Hank turns around slowly, scanning his new surroundings. This place really is incredible, he thinks. So convincing. He steps up to a tree and runs his fingers along the trunk, marveling at its crinkled roughness. The rain-sodden bark yields beneath his fingertips, releasing a tiny trickle of water that oozes downward until it’s reabsorbed by the thirsty bark below. Hank lifts his fingers to his nose, and he can smell the bark on his fingertips: a deep earthy scent, tinged with the sweetness of decay.