Wired

by Caytlyn Brooke

  I look back at Annabelle. “Sorry about that.”

  Annabelle has retreated a few steps, half-holding her unaware brother a shield. “You’re sick. Just like my mommy. She can’t play with me because of that thing. She’s never going to get better and neither will you.” Her voice is hard, clipped, stating a fact, not a possibility. Her lips purse in a tight line and she turns away, climbing back onto her red box.

  My heart sinks and my throat swells. I can’t breathe or move, still feeling the burn of the little girl’s stare. She had looked at me like I was a monster—a horrible, familiar monster.

  I reach up and pull the Vertix out of my skin, wincing as the sharp sensors hold tight. Flipping my copper baby upside down, I study the beautiful sleek design, the polished color.

  “Why are you ruining my life?” I whisper as a frightening image clouds my mind. I picture my hand turning, slowly, slowly, until the Vertix slides away, crashing to the hard floor with a solid thwack. The tiny gears and cogs and microchips explode in the catastrophic impact, scattering across the floor, mimicking tiny body parts blasting in various directions.

  The Vertix feels so heavy in my hand. It’d be so easy to do, to watch with wonder as the device hurtles to its demise.

  Even as I think this I feel a tightening in my chest and my breathing grows shallow. You can’t, you can’t, don’t hurt it! I scream inside my mind. There’s only one way to save myself from the constant flood of terrors, but I can’t. I’m not strong enough. Maybe Annabelle is right. Maybe I never will be.

  “All right, here we are. You’re all set.”

  I spin, clutching my Vertix to my chest, to find the pretty rep has returned. I accept the small red and black bag numbly. The rep’s plastered smile fades as she notices the trail of vomit on my shirt. I hastily pull my coat shut.

  She shifts away from me. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  My temples begin to pound steadily. I haven’t been connected for almost ten minutes now. I need to hurry up before the itching begins.

  “No, but is it okay if I stay for a few minutes and connect? Try out the new product,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut against the sharp pain.

  “That’s fine, but I will ask you to relocate. I need to send the Clean Bot to mop…this up,” the rep says, and I know she means my mess. “Have a good day.”

  I open my eyes and watch her walk toward the podium to greet a girl even younger than me, with tagged teal eyes staring at the ceiling. I turn away and locate a rectangular pillar near the far wall, far from Annabelle and her family. Pressing a hand to my queasy stomach, I round the pillar and slide down until my butt hits the floor. Hopefully I’m well out of view.

  I withdraw the new charger from the bag and crack open the plastic wrapper. It’s smaller than my other one and wireless. My heart flutters as my Vertix sparks back to life, the charger pulsing energy into it like an IV.

  I bend my neck forward and place the copper device onto my skin with relief. The prior guilt and shame I felt moments ago is nowhere to be found. The Vertix is a wonderful creation, sending fireworks of dopamine through my brain.

  Hello, Maggie, the Vertix greets. I was worried I wouldn’t see you for a while. Where, can I—the Vertix suddenly stops, the velvet voice stuttering. I’m sorry. There are not enough funds to continue. Please check the account balance. Hurry, Maggie, I don’t want you to miss out.

  The colorful screen blurs, throwing me back out into the store, leaving me alone.

  “No, what’s going on? I have the charger! It should work. It should work!” I shout, pounding my fist against the concrete floor. I flinch at the impact, wrench the Vertix off my neck and push myself to my feet. A burning itch ripples across the surface of my skin. “This can’t be happening!”

  Rounding the pillar, I scan the large store for the girl I worked with. I think I recognize her talking with an older couple. I grab my bags and race across the floor to the rep. Reaching out, I grab her shoulder and spin her around with all the force I can muster.

  “Hey!” the girl cries. Her bewildered gaze finds me and narrows with rage. “What do you think you’re doing?” She raises her hand to her neck, checking to make sure the unexpected movement didn’t jostle her device loose.

  “Yeah, this charger doesn’t work! I just tried it and it told me there weren’t enough funds!” I yell, pressing the useless charger into her hands. “I need a new one, one that will actually work and I need it now!”

  A crescendo of chittering and clicking, like that of a horde of beetles, erupts inside my head.

  We’re going to taste you, to devour you, the beetles laugh, their clicking like eerie whispers. What flavor is your skin, we wonder. What does your hair taste like?

  I shake my head in an effort to eradicate them. “Please, I need it right now,” I stress through gritted teeth.

  The rep scoffs. “I can’t help you, I’m with other customers. You can re-sign in over there.” She points to the podium. “And then, whenever someone is ready, they can further assist you.”

  My grip tightens. “No, you don’t understand!”

  We’ll sip your blood and dance on your glassy eyes, the beetles continue.

  “Gah! Please! Please just get me a new one!” I shriek, pressing my free hand to my head. “Just stop, just stop laughing!”

  “It’s all right, you help her,” the old woman behind the rep says. I glance up and see worry clear in every wrinkle.

  The rep sighs. “All right, what exactly did the Vertix tell you?” She groans.

  “I connected and I put the charger in and everything was fine, but then all of a sudden she told me there weren’t enough funds and I have to check my balance,” I say, feeling tears escape my eyes.

  The rep squints at me. “Well that wouldn’t be an issue with the charger then. You need to keep at least two hundred in your bank account at all times so the Vertix can verify the account is active. That way, when it’s time for the bill, there are no surprises. Sometimes the Vertix requires an even larger amount depending on how regularly you connect.” She looks me over, her nose twitching in disgust. “I take it you connect…often.”

  “Yes, yes I do that’s why I need this to work. I can’t—I can’t—function very well without it,” I admit. The beetles are still laughing at me.

  “Okay, well I don’t know what else to tell you besides put more money in your account or switch to a cash payment method. Only a handful of our customers pay that way, but we have a machine that will still accept bills. It’s really inconvenient. You’ll either have to deposit a lot of cash or come here, like, every day if you use enough to make the account drop below that two-hundred-dollar threshold,” the rep explains.

  “But…look, I don’t have any more money, this is all I have left,” I cry, gripping the copper device with sweaty fingers. If it was made of any softer metal, my fingerprints would forever be a part of the sleek body.

  To crawl on your soft body, to burrow beneath the beautiful skin, the beetles sing.

  The rep offers no sympathy as she looks down at the Torch in her hand. “Then it’s time to get used to life without the Vertix.”

  That’s twenty bucks,” my UPick driver announces.

  Shit. I’d been lucky enough to catch a car dropping someone off at Yeti and order it to take me back to the perfume store. I would have gotten more money returning the charger and the boost, but I needed it. How the hell am I going to pay for this ride with a dead Vertix?

  “Okay, look—I have that, but I can’t get it. It’s in my Enyo but I can’t connect. Maybe, can you hang on just a second, I’m going to return this.” I gesture to the soft purple box on the seat beside me. “And then I’ll have credit.”

  “You can’t pay?” the driver says. “What the fuck, lady! I’m not doing this shit for free. What the fuck!” He smacks the steering wheel and the horn yells in agreement. The driver hits a button off the dashboard, growls something unintelligible and throws open the d
oors.

  My eyes bulge as he climbs out. Huge leathery dragon wings are unfolding from his back, spanning the entire length of the car as he marches to my door and yanks it open. “Get out of the car,” he rasps, his eyes glistening yellow and his skin hardening to magenta scales. “Get out now.” Flames ignite within his mouth.

  I can’t move, can’t process a thought as the dragon’s claw grips my coat, slicing a hole through the cheap fabric. I open my mouth to protest, but my tongue has swollen three times its normal size. In one swift motion, the angry beast rips me from the seat to a standing position on the solid pavement, his claws burrowing into my collar.

  “We’re going to go in there and you’re going to return whatever it is you have in that box and then you’re going to give me my money,” he growls. His breath burns my eyes, like sulfur and acid. “Get moving, sweetheart.”

  He prods me in the back and I scurry ahead, gripping the purple gift-wrapped box with white knuckles. The little bell above the door tinkles as I enter the extravagant fragrance store.

  “Good evening, guys,” a happy voice welcomes. “How can I help…you?” Her cheerful tone falls away as we recognize one another. “Oh, hello again. You’re back so soon. Did you want to get another bottle?”

  I shake my head and set the pretty box on the counter. “No, I ah…I actually need to return this. And I’m…I’m in a hurry,” I whisper. I’m too afraid to look behind me, terrified of the mutant dragon, but I know he’s right behind me, can feel the heat pulsing off his body.

  Carmela’s slender brows furrow and she glances at the dragon. She’s not afraid. “Was there a problem with it?” she asks, her eyes flickering back and forth between me and the dragon.

  “No, well, yeah. I asked my roommate if she had this one and she already does so I’ll find her something else,” I explain, my breath hitching as the dragon sighs behind me.

  Carmela brightens. “Oh perfect. I’d be happy to do an exchange for you. Let me see, I think Drop of Heaven or maybe Star Burst will be perfect!”

  I wave my hand in front of me. “No, no. I’m not here to exchange. I just want my money back to go…find something else.”

  “Oh,” Carmela says, her smile dropping away. “I see. Are you returning that too?” She points to the red and black Yeti label.

  “Look, can I just get my money back? I’m in a terrible rush,” I snap, growing more and more nervous as the dragon’s claws begin to rake the tile floor.

  Carmela takes the gift-wrapped package and, using one angular fingernail, tears the paper apart. She removes the perfume and runs an oblong device over the barcode. At last she looks up at me. “I can’t give you cash. I have to credit your Enyo account.”

  I place my hands on the counter, leaning further away from the dragon. “Yes, please, that’s perfect. I just need it all back into Enyo.”

  Carmela subtly shakes her head. A soft beep echoes from the scanning device and she lifts her gaze back to mine. “All set. You have a great holiday,” she says and turns away, the box of perfume gripped firmly in her talons.

  “Okay, just a second while I connect and then I’ll get you your money,” I whisper to the dragon behind me, digging in the Yeti bag for the Vertix. A second later it’s on my neck, the sensors finding their mark like a trained hunting dog. “Ahhhh.”

  Welcome back, Maggie. Where can—

  Do I have enough? I shout.

  Excuse me, can you please rephrase? the Vertix asks.

  Do I have enough funds or whatever? Will you leave me again?

  Yes, the Vertix says and my heart drops.

  No, you can’t leave me alone!

  You misunderstand, Maggie. You have enough funds to connect for a short while but, if you continue connecting at the same rate your past predicts, I won’t be able to connect you past midnight tonight, the Vertix explains.

  “Okay, midnight. I can find some more money by then,” I say aloud, concentrating as the Vertix erases my fears and phobias with a single stroke.

  “Mm-hmm,” says a deep voice behind me.

  I spin around to see an older man in his mid-forties staring at me.

  “Am I in your way?” I ask, stepping away from the counter. Where’d the dragon go? I glance around the rest of the store, trying to picture the dragon’s putrid yellow eyes and the smell of its smoky breath, but can’t quite see it now.

  “My money,” the man says with irritation. He crosses hairy arms over his wide chest, the fabric of his blue tee pulling up to reveal an even hairier beer gut.

  Isn’t he cold? Isn’t it winter out there? “Right, of course. For the car ride. What do I owe you?” I ask, navigating to Enyo.

  “Twenty bucks, but I just upped it due to an inconvenience charge and a Wired fee,” the driver scoffs.

  “Wired fee?” I repeat, cocking my head to the side. “What is that exactly?”

  “That’s the five-dollar fee that I’m going to charge from now on whenever I get one of you crazy junkies in my car, that’s what. Now, do the fucking transfer so I can go home,” the man orders, pointing a grubby finger out the glass door at his black Toyota parked by the curb.

  “Okay,” I say. “So I owe you twenty-five?”

  “No, thirty-six, sweetheart,” he says with a smile that exposes his yellowed teeth.

  “Wow, pretty steep for an eight-minute drive but I’ll pay, no problem,” I agree as I initiate the transfer to the only awaiting request hovering in front of me.

  The man verifies the payment with a grunt and turns, lumbering to the door. “And if you need another car in the future, never request me,” he calls, shoving the glass door open with the palm of his hand.

  I don’t watch him go; his words don’t matter. My World, I instruct. The large green checkmark verifying payment disappears, replaced by floating posts of friends and strangers. I sigh once again and my pulse slows.

  Heaven.

  • • • • •

  I don’t know how late it is, or where I am. I left L’Amour a while ago, when the sky was still gray. Now it’s darker than the back of an abandoned closet and the tips of my fingers are starting to go numb.

  I’ve been wandering the city with no purpose, no schedule to adhere to. My stomach protested this activity for a while, demanding food or water, then gave up.

  Acceleration, I think, imagining the cozy warmth of a campfire and seconds later I’m standing in front of the rosy flames. The wood cackles and spits as the heat chases the moisture from the logs, casting an enchanting glow on the tall trees surrounding me. I extend my hands, wiggling my fingers toward the dancing orange flames. See, I’m warmer already. I grin, a puff of white air marking my words as if they were tangible. I need to get into bed to wake up for Christmas morning!

  The thought gives me pause. I don’t have presents for either Sarah or Andy. But you have a waterproof charger. They might be able to even use it, like when I’m sleeping and don’t need it.

  Maggie, the Vertix says, her soft voice almost inaudible over the cackling flames. Your connection is almost at an end. You’ve decreased your funds significantly. I tried to hold out as long as I could for you, but it’s nearing early morning and I can’t delay the disruption of connection any longer unless you acquire more funds. You have two hours left.

  Two? “What time is it?” I glance away from the riveting flames and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. There’s a light shining several feet away from me, but even the solar light isn’t very strong. Puzzled as to where I have wandered, I scan my surrounding area. I’m in a parking lot, yes, but which one? How far am I from home?

  Pin me, I command.

  Yeti, All Night Foods, Mattress Heaven, Jo & Ed’s Antiques, Moe’s, Subway, the Vertix lists, showing my location on a map. Scarlet Meadows Plaza Plaza.

  “Geez, I guess I don’t go anywhere else.” I laugh aloud, moving my arms side to side and the little cartoon version of me mimics the movement. I turn and look into the dark windows o
f the store in front of me. The shelves are filled to the brim with knick-knacks and dusty antiques. “Mom and Pop’s Junk,” I say. “Strange I’ve never gone in. I wonder what else they have…if maybe they—” I gasp as my wandering eyes pass over a beautiful, brand new peach-colored Vertix.

  Why is it in there? Are they selling it? Is it broken? Will they notice it’s gone? The last question slips in there, the devil on my shoulder materializing out of thin air. No, what are you thinking? Go home and forget you ever wandered over here, I scold, but my eyes don’t leave the Vertix.

  For a moment I stare, the idea formulating. I look around. There are no cameras aimed at the shop and judging by the simple deadbolt-style lock, it seems unlikely old mom and pop have invested in any high-tech security systems.

  A couple hundred yards away a car drives by on the main road and I freeze, but I’m too far away for the headlights to reach me. You’re fine, no one can see you. I take a few steps to the right and peer down the plaza toward Yeti and the other few stores. All the lights are off, the plaza deserted. It must be really late.

  The fire crackles warmly again and I reach my fingers out once more, avoiding the weaving flame. A shiver runs up my spine as my breath escapes my lips, creating a large white cloud. Man, it’s cold. I really should get inside to warm up, just for a second. I move back in front of the antique store. “But, how can I?”

  I reach out and test the frozen metal handle. The door rattles in the steel frame but doesn’t budge. I grit my teeth and try again, yanking harder this time with both hands. Still the door remains steadfast. “Right,” I seethe, sudden anger swelling in my chest. It’s like the store has challenged me to find my way inside.

  I walk backward a few feet and scan the ground. I know I won’t be able to break the glass with my fist. With my luck I’ll end up breaking my hand. I shove my hands into my pockets and sniff back the snot beginning to drip from my nostrils. I need to get inside.