New Reality: Truth

by Michael Robertson

  ***

  Opening and closing her hand as if Jake's pain was her own, she watched on. Jake was becoming more observant. Maybe he'd become aware enough to save his own life.

  Chapter Twenty

  Staring at the floor as they walked, Jake listened to the shifting rubble and howling wind. Both men checked behind frequently.

  "I've had enough, Jake."

  Stopping, Jake turned to his friend. "What do you mean?"

  "Don't do this to me."

  "Do what?"

  "You know what."

  When Jake looked at Tom properly --his sunken grey eyes, his ratty beard, his pale skin--a pang of grief gripped his heart. When did he get so old?

  "I've had enough of this life. Of scavenging like animals." Looking away, Tom pointed at a fox walking over the ruined landscape. "Hell, even the animals are doing better than us. We've been living like this for years now." Clenching his jaw, he repeated himself. "Years!"

  Putting his good hand on Tom's emaciated shoulder, the sharpness of it made Jake want to withdraw. "But we've come so far."

  "Have we? Really? What have we done? We live like tramps, hoping that we'll find some old scrap of food, of anything."

  Shaking his head, Jake looked around. "It won't be long before things start growing again. Nature will beat this."

  "You've been saying that since Rixon destroyed our city. Every day we look for signs of life, but there isn't any. This place is sterile. The only way to survive is to put a headset on." Freeing his ponytail, Tom battled the wind to retie it again.

  Just watching his friend's wincing movement stimulated the ache in Jake's arthritic joints. "They want you to think New Reality's the only option, but life cycles, things have to change, you can't stop nature." Staring into the distance, Jake's eyes lost focus. "It will always win out."

  "We all have our own reality, right?"

  Ignoring the question, Jake raised his eyebrows. "I'm sure you just need a rest."

  "I need more than a rest."

  Jake didn't reply.

  "The only reality we have in this world is our own, right? The life I perceive and live is my truth."

  A particularly nasty twinge ran through Jake's hand as he nodded.

  "We see the world through our own eyes. Experience it through our own senses."

  "What about the shared reality we experience from interacting with one another?" Jake asked.

  "We still experience that through our own receptors and our own viewpoint, regardless of whether it's shared or not. It's only real because I perceive it as real. Everything is subjective. If I plug into the game and experience a new reality, then why can't I choose to accept that as my truth?"

  Looking away, Jake caught a glimpse of the first gamer he'd seen in days. Dragging Tom over to him, Jake kicked the man as hard as he could. It felt like kicking a crash mat, and it aggravated the sharp pain in his right shin. "Look at it, Tom," he said, purposefully omitting a gender. "You want to be like that? Inanimate? Stupid? Is that the existence you want? Is that the reality you'd choose?" The sharp tang of shit hit Jake as he waited for his friend to reply.

  "Look at us; we're walking skeletons that look like we'll snap at any moment. At least he's well fed."

  "He's a slug."

  "In our reality he is, but not in his. He's probably relaxing on a beach while a beautiful woman oils him down. He probably looks like a movie star in his world. Isn't that all that matters?"

  Another burning wave gripped Jake's palm. Pulling air through his gritted teeth, he shook his head. "But it's not real."

  "What is, Jake? Look around. We live like cockroaches in a world where Rixon is God. We have no food. No shelter. No women. If this is living, I'd rather play New Reality, I'd rather create my own destiny."

  "But New Reality can't give us the social interactions that are so important to us as people. Don't you believe in an interconnected collective consciousness?"

  Tom sighed, his face hanging to reveal thick bands of white beneath his irises. "I'm a scientist, Jake, I don't believe in the same things as you."

  "But how do you know it works? How do you know the headset will respond to your desires?" Lifting his scarf, Jake spat grit from his mouth. "What if it responds to your nightmares? What if you feel trapped and can't escape? You can't take the headset off again because you won't know you have it on." Imploring his friend with raised palms, the action throwing another sharp sting through his wounded hand, Jake lifted his eyebrows. "So how can you know, Tom? How?"

  "How do you know everything will work out fine if I stay here?"

  "Faith."

  "In what? Rixon?"

  "No, faith that I can carry on until things change."

  "What about your teeth?"

  "What about them?"

  "The toothache that's growing at the back of your mouth."

  Running his tongue over his back teeth, Jake flinched at the jagged pain. "They'll be okay."

  "Have you ever had toothache? It's like your brain's melting. What will you do with no painkillers? That's if you don't die of thirst before that." Tom glanced behind them.

  "I get it now."

  "What?"

  "It's about them, isn't it? The things following us. Everything's about them."

  Looking from side to side, Tom shook his head. "No."

  "Really?"

  "Okay, it is a little bit about them." Pointing at his chest and leaning forwards, Tom opened his eyes wide. "I've seen them, Jake. I know what's following us."

  "And you still won't tell me. Do you realize just how tedious it's getting?"

  "I don't want to remember what they look like."

  Dropping his head, Jake peered at his friend through his black fringe. "What about Rory? Who will save him?"

  A twitch pulled Tom's face, and his words lacked the assertion of those before them. "Maybe he's better off. Look around, why would I want to bring him back into this world?"

  "Because it's real. Also, you want to make sure that he's okay, don't you?" It was an underhanded tactic, but Jake was desperate.

  Turning his back on Jake, Tom stared at the tower in the distance. After a few seconds, he spun around again with his index finger raised. "One week. Seven days is all I'm going to give it. If we haven't found Rory by then, I'm giving up."

  Shoving his bandaged hand in Tom's direction, Jake beamed a smile at him. "Deal."

  Staring at the bloody mess, Tom sneered like he'd rather shake a landmine.

  ***

  Watching the interaction, she ground her jaw. Why didn't Jake let him go? It would make everything less complicated. Her patience wouldn't last another week. Something had to change to speed up the process. If it didn't, she was going to have to intervene.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Seeing something on the floor, Jake stopped still. "Tom!"

  When he looked up to see Tom was still walking, Jake tried again. "Tom!"

  The tall man continued trudging away.

  "Tom!"

  Spinning around, Tom threw his hands up in the air. "What?"

  Pointing at the floor, Jake said, "Look."

  Hearing Tom's sigh over the howling winds, Jake chose to ignore it as his friend walked back over to him. "What is it?"

  Pointing again, he watched Tom's eyes follow his direction. When Tom looked back up, his expression was stony. "A chimney. So what?"

  "But what does a chimney mean?"

  "It means that at some point, probably a long time ago, it allowed someone to have a fire indoors."

  "Exactly! Do you think there's a house beneath us?"

  "There's probably many houses beneath us. Why would I care?"

  An involuntary groan escaped Jake as another rush of pain ran through his hand. When it had subsided, he took several calming breaths. "The house it's attached to might still be intact. It'd be nice to see something else has hung on during this clusterfuck, don't you think? Something other than us."

  "You think we're h
anging on?" Looking Jake up and down, Tom shook his head. "Besides, it's only a house. I've seen plenty of houses in my time."

  "I've seen plenty of roast chickens, that doesn't mean I wouldn't piss myself if we came across one right now."

  "That's different, Jake."

  Without replying, Jake pulled his hair from his face and peered into the darkness. The chimney still smelt of smoke. "Imagine if we could see what was going on down there."

  "Jesus, Jake!" Jabbing an index finger against his temple, Tom stared at his friend. "Have you lost your fucking mind? If there's anything down there, I really don't want to see it. Seeing those ... things once is enough for me."

  Every time Jake watched Tom retreat into the dark memory, anxious anticipation gnawed away at his insides. "I've not seen them yet."

  "You don't want to."

  "Can't I be the judge of that?"

  "With all due respect, Jake, I'm not sure you can." Turning his index finger against his chest, Tom poked himself. "I've seen them. I have the nightmares to prove it. This existence is hard enough without the thought of those things in your mind."

  Softening his tone, Jake moved closer to Tom. "Please, I need to see what's following us. I need to be prepared for what may come. It's worse not knowing. It's like watching a horror film before you've seen the monster. That's the scariest part. Besides, what if there's food down there? Water maybe."

  Although the scarf covered his mouth, Jake could see Tom was chewing his lips. "There's nothing down there but darkness and nightmares."

  "Dare to dream, Tom. They may manifest as something real one day."

  Looking around them, Tom lingered on the tower. "Dreams don't exist here."

  "Dreams exist everywhere. In the darkest hours, dreams burn brighter than ever. Without dreams, we have nothing."

  "Without dreams, we have logic and well-realized plans. Hope only leads to disappointment."

  "Well, aren't you cheery today?"

  Pulling his shoulders back, Tom stood up to his full height. "Look, I don't want to be here anymore, remember? I'm hanging on because of you--"

  "And Rory."

  The fury left Tom and his eyes glazed. "I'm finding it hard to believe that Rory's still about. I'm giving you this extra week, Jake."

  Wrapping Tom in a tight embrace, his hand aching again, Jake dropped his voice to a whisper. "Thank you for everything you've done for me, Tom. I truly appreciate it. You're right, I can't know the impact that seeing the monsters has had on you, but please let me try and see them for myself. In a week's time, I'll be on my own, and I need to know what I'm up against." Letting him go, Jake walked over to the chimney and peered down into the darkness again.

  Scowling at Jake for a moment, his grey eyes still glazed, Tom then looked up at the sky.

  "What are you doing, Tom?"

  Scratching his chin, Tom continued staring at the clouds. "The sun is directly above us."

  Squinting as he looked up at the cloudy space, Jake shrugged. "How can you tell?"

  "Find the darkest part of the sky on all four sides and you can roughly work out where the sun is. The change in light is subtle, but if you have any chance of seeing down the chimney, it'll be now."

  Hunching down, Tom retrieved a piece of metal from the floor. It was no bigger than a sheet of paper. Dusting it off, he handed the shiny sheet to his friend. "Try this. Although I think you'll be disappointed. The house probably caved in years ago."

  Gripping the cold metal tightly, pain tearing through his damaged hand as he tried to prevent the wind from ripping it from his clutches, Jake nodded. "Thank you. You're a genius."

  Dropping the metal down the chimney, Jake watched it fall, turning over like an autumn leaf before hitting the ground with a light clang. It landed at the perfect angle, pointing into the darkness. Whooping Jake punched the air. When he looked up at Tom, he saw his friend staring at him and shaking his head.

  "What?"

  "You just dropped it in there!"

  "And?"

  "You could have tried to place it."

  Standing back, Jake pointed down the chimney. "But it worked perfectly. Look."

  Tom shook his head again. "No thanks."

  Leaning over the chimney, his heart galloping, Jake drew a deep breath. "Hello?"

  As his voice dived down into the darkness, Jake tensed in anticipation of a reply.

  There was none.

  When he looked up at Tom, the big man pointed in the direction they were heading. "Right, there's nothing there. Can we go now?"

  Dropping his shoulders, Jake was just about to move on when he heard a scrabbling noise coming from the bottom of the chimney. When he looked over to see Tom's face, his eyes wide, he assumed that he'd heard it too.

  ***

  The noise of her shifting where she sat went off like a bomb in the silence. Remaining perfectly still, she held her breath and watched on.

  Staring at the makeshift mirror, she couldn't see a thing. Squinting, she looked harder and moved forwards slightly.

  Blinking against the burn in her eyes, she sat and waited. Jake was going to look down again. He was going to find out what was below. He couldn't resist it.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Focusing on the chimney, Jake heard Tom growl. "Don't, Jake. Don't be stupid."

  The scrabbling turned into a clicking like bony fingers tapping on glass.

  "Jake! What are you doing?"

  Stepping towards the noise, his body tense, his stomach tight, Jake peered in.

  Swallowing a gulp of the smoke-scented air, Jake jumped when the darkness shifted.

  Seconds later, there was a long and slow scratching sound that ran goose bumps down his spine. It was the same scratch that had tormented him beneath the gravestone.

  "Come on, Jake, you don't need to see this, let's go."

  But Jake couldn't move. Pushing his face so far into the chimney he could taste the old fires, Jake listened for anything other than his quickening breath in the cavernous space. Shifting to the side, he let more of the overhead light in so he could see better.

  Despite the tiredness and pain, his twitching legs were preparing to run. But only after he'd seen what was down there. Watching the darkness in the reflective metal, Jake shivered from the adrenaline running through him.

  A scream, high-pitched and tormented, swelled at the bottom before flying up the chimney. Pulling his head away, Jake stumbled backwards as if the sound had dealt him a physical blow.

  Falling to the floor, his bony bottom landed on the jagged ground with a nauseating crack.

  Jake forgot himself and tried to push off the floor with his damaged hand, searing pain tearing through his palm.

  Taking deep breaths, he used his good left hand to get upright.

  Moving with a stilted gait because of his aching coccyx, Jake glanced at Tom.

  Although the tall man shook his head at him, Jake ignored his warning and looked into the chimney again.

  The scrabbling sounds were now accompanied by throaty breaths. Deep and resonating in the cavernous space below, they were the sound of a large beast.

  Shuddering, Jake remained where he was. He had to see what was down there. When else would he get the chance?

  Clearing his throat sent an echo into the house below. "Hello?"

  Silence.

  Drawing a breath to speak again, Jake suddenly froze as the reflected shadows at the bottom of the chimney shifted. A pebble skipped across a stone floor followed by a glass bottle falling over.

  Then he saw a shape. A flash of skin, as white as chalk. Black hair, matted with grease. Eyes ...

  Oh, my god.

  Jake shook.

  The eyes were red as if covered with a film of blood.

  They stared into the makeshift mirror.

  They stared straight at him.

  Frozen, Jake's breath quickened.

  Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone. All that was left was the reflection if its
dark domain.

  Turning to Tom, his teeth chattering, Jake couldn't find the words.

  Tom's eyebrows pinched in the middle. "Have you seen enough?"

  All Jake managed was a febrile nod.

  Walking over to the chimney, Tom grunted as he lifted a large rock and dropped it down. It hit the ground with a loud thud and the clattering of metal.

  A hissing scream responded.

  Putting his arm around Jake's shoulders, Tom said, "Come on, mate, let's get moving."

  ***

  Pulling away, she sat in the darkness and scratched her face with her long nails. If they thought a rock dropped down a chimney was enough to stop her, they were seriously mistaken.

  Now that Jake had seen her, surely this would be the unraveling she'd been waiting for?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The whir of the Bot's mini blade snapped Jake's shoulders tight, and his eyes widened. Backing away, Jake looked at his immobile friend. "Tom, we've got to leave. Now!"

  But Tom wasn't moving. Frozen to the spot, he stared down at the wide eyes of his dead wife.

  Anxious energy buzzed in Jake's legs as the whir got louder. It was moving fast, but he couldn't see it yet because of the dust on the wind. Looking up the hill at his exit, he stamped his foot on the floor. "Come on! This isn't the time to hang around."

  The tall man seemed to have no awareness of the Bot. The rock his wife had hit her head against was slick with blood. The headset they'd just removed sat discarded on the floor, rocking in the gales.

  Biting down on his bottom lip, Jake bounced on the spot and looked in the direction of the whir.

  Then it burst through the murky sky. The black Bot was huge, its torso as big as Tom's. Shouting burned Jake's grit-damaged throat. "We need to go! Hurry up, man!"

  When Tom still didn't move, Jake gritted his teeth. "Argh!" Running back down the slope towards his friend, Jake rode the shifting ground.

  With one eye on the Bot, he grabbed Tom's skinny arm and yanked hard.