“Breaking the window with the rock you told me to grab.” I lift the rock up as proof.
“Not that rock, savage Butterfly.” He points at another rock in the garden. “That one. It’s a hide-a-key.”
I drop the rock I’m holding and sprint to the porch. “You could have just told me that, you know.”
Grant’s face breaks into a massive grin. “I know, but where’s the fun in that?”
I grab the fake rock, fish out the key, and we walk into Grant’s immaculate house.
It’s everything my house isn’t. Big and spacious with open rooms that flow into each other. Where the colorful walls at my house are covered in family pictures and random bits of decor Mom found at flea markets, the walls here are stark white and blank except for the occasional work of fine art.
No little odds and ends, couch doilies, or walls of crosses. There isn’t a speck of dust out of order. “Jiminy Christmas, was your house always so…”
“Cold?” Grant shrugs. “Yeah. Mom is pretty particular about decorating.”
This place makes me miss the tiny, overly eccentric house I shared with Mama. Not the one here in the virtual reality. The real one in the real world, where I could just be myself.
“Alright, we need to get moving. Right now the programmers are scrambling, trying to figure out what I’m doing here, but that won’t last. As soon as I access the system they’re going to be on me like white on rice.”
Grant takes off down a long white hallway. “In there.”
He points to a closed door, but he’s staring at the ceiling. I didn’t stop to think what this must be like for Grant. He hasn’t been here in years.
I open the door and rush in. This room is just as bare as the rest of the house.
“I see your mom’s design style wasn’t kept out of your bedroom.”
“Sure.”
I spin around to face him still standing in the hallway. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Grant lets out a sigh and takes a slow step into the room. “It’s not that I wasn’t allowed to decorate in here.” He sits on the crisply made bed without disturbing the sheets. “I just didn’t have anything to decorate with. I didn’t have pictures with friends or projects from clubs at school, because I didn’t have friends and I didn’t belong to any clubs. My life was school and home. Not much to look at, I guess.”
I reach for Grant’s hand but pull back at the last second when I remember I can’t touch him. “I’m sorry. I wish your life had been different.” I walk over to a blank spot on the wall and mark out a rectangle with my hands. “If I had been around when you were alive, this is where you would have hung our picture. You’d probably be making some weird face, laughing at a dumb joke you just told yourself. I’d be rolling my eyes since that’s the third time that week you told that joke.”
I walk over to the nightstand and brush aside the old alarm clock. “Right here would be the picture my mom took of us at the school dance. For the record, I’m not wearing a dress, and I forbid you from buying me a corsage. I didn’t want to be there, but you really wanted to go, so I went with you.”
Grant smiles and points to an empty spot on his desk. “That one there is a selfie I took of both of us after I bailed you out of jail. It’s the least I could do since I was the one who dared you to hack into the school’s files and change the name of the quarterback to Buttface McBooger-Eater.”
I grin back at him. “Totally worth it. Buttface had it coming. Now, let’s fire this puppy up and take down a billion dollar corporation.”
Grant’s computer was new. Or at least it was new two decades ago. It wouldn’t be my first choice, but it was this or nothing. I pull up the VALR website and hack into the database with no problem.
“Start the countdown.”
Grant smiles and stands next to me, his fist pumped in the air.
I head straight to my file and open up the VR like popping open a bag of chips.
“They’ve added another layer of encryption. Probably a backup after I got in last time.”
“Is that a problem?”
I hit a few more keys. “Not anymore. But I still can’t override the code from here. Do you have a thumb drive?”
“Top right drawer.”
I pull out the thin drive and pop it into the port. On a blank document I start typing out code as fast as I can, but the replication lines are more complicated than I realized. We sit in silence while I dissect the code and try to figure out how to destroy it. I keep typing and deleting, typing and deleting.
“This isn’t working. I’m good, but the VR code is better.”
“Don’t give up. You can do this.”
I shake my head and pinch at the headache between my eyes. It’s worse than it’s ever been. I’m running out of time everywhere. For the first time ever, I don’t think I can crack the code.
“Hello?” A stern, female voice calls out from down the hallway.
Grant’s head whips to the door. “My mom.”
“The jig is up.” I shut down Grant’s computer and tuck the drive into my pocket. Not that there’s much on it, but it’s better than nothing. “Now what?”
“In here.” Grant dashes across the hall and points to another door.
I rush over and we both go in before Grant’s mom catches us. It’s not like it’s really her or as if VALR doesn’t know what I was doing. Well, they might not know I was programming a virus to take them down, but they know I was accessing the code again.
“I’ve never been in here.”
Grant is on the other side of the room staring at a low dresser.
“Where are we?”
“My parents’ room. It was always off limits. Always.”
I join him and gasp as my eyes focus in the dim light. The dresser is covered in dozens of frames of all shapes and sizes, and Grant is present in all of them. There’s a tiny version of Grant opening gifts at a party and a slightly older Grant riding a pony with a big goofy cowboy hat on.
My eyes latch on to one that had to be right before he entered VALR. It’s just him and his mother, standing side by side. Grant is staring at the camera, a weak smile on his face. But his mother is staring at Grant, love and admiration pouring out of her eyes.
“I didn’t know.” Grant’s voice is a soft whisper.
I stare at the collection, my eyes zipping from one picture to the next, trying to take it all in. “You didn’t know she had all these pictures?”
Grant shakes his head. “I didn’t know she loved me.”
I swallow against the pain building in my head. No matter what I did or what I was going through, my mother’s love was a constant. I never once had to doubt it. But Grant did. He didn’t know his own mother loved him enough to break all her decorating rules and cover her dresser in mismatched snapshots.
No wonder Grant decided his life wasn’t one worth living. I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did.
“We need to go.”
Grant nods and points to the window. “That leads to the front yard.”
I hoist the window open, and we both slide out like reverse cat burglars. We dash to my truck and leave Grant’s house behind without a word.
C:>TWENTYEIGHT.exe
The sun is barely a sliver of red on the horizon. My day is over. I pull into the parking lot and park under the elm tree. It seems like a good place to say goodbye.
I turn to face Grant in the darkened cab. “I’m sorry I didn’t get the code written.”
Grant shrugs. “That’s okay. It was a bit of a long shot anyway.”
It’s not okay, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. I pull the thumb drive out of my pocket and press it between my palms. “Do you want to talk about what happened back at your house? With the pictures?”
“Hey, why did the stadium get hot after the game?”
“Grant…”
“Because all the fans left. Get it? The fans?”
I reach over and touch the seat ri
ght next to his leg. It’s the closest I can come to physical contact. “Grant.”
“What is there to talk about?” Grant throws his hands in the air, his fake good mood disappearing in the span of a heartbeat. “I spent my whole life thinking my parents barely tolerated me. They were never the type for good-night kisses or I love yous. That’s just the way they were.”
“But those pictures. That’s not barely tolerating someone. She loved you.”
“Would it have killed her to say it?” His words scream with anger and echo around the cab of the truck. “Because it killed me every day thinking that no one on this earth cared if I lived or died.”
Grant turns to me, tears streaking down his face. “I plowed my car into a tree thinking the world would be better off without me. That no one would miss me. But she did. She missed me. And I didn’t see it. And I can’t fix it. I can’t go back and undo it, and it’s killing me knowing none of this had to happen.”
“Grant, I…” I have no idea what to say. This is where my mother was so good. She would know the perfect words to quiet his soul. I can picture her now pulling him into her solid hug and loving his pain away.
But I can’t do that. I barely do people when they aren’t an emotional wreck. I’m not prepared for this.
“You don’t need to say anything. Words can’t change the past. I can’t erase that I failed at every part of my life.”
“Not true.” I grasp the steering wheel as if it can send the right words through my hands. “I know this part right now isn’t the life you’re talking about, but it’s my life. For the next few hours this is my reality, and I still have a body out there somewhere hanging on to those last moments. So this counts.”
I turn to him so he can see my face and know this isn’t just me paying him lip service. “There is no way I could have done any of this without you. When I realized what was happening, you were there to answer my questions and help me navigate. You’ve been there from the very beginning.”
“But that doesn’t count.”
“The hell it doesn’t.” I have to swallow back the anger in my voice. How can he not see himself the way I do? “Was Adam there? Were any of the other ghosts there? No. They were too busy sitting around in coffee houses pretending that this half existence is everything they could hope for. But you were there. Right from the beginning, and that isn’t even close to a failure.”
Grant ducks his head until his chin is touching his chest. “You would have figured it out eventually.”
I shrug. “Probably, but I’m glad I didn’t have to do that alone.” I shift in the seat so my whole body is facing him.
“You know, I never really did the friend thing. I’m not exactly a natural extrovert. But then when I got sick, it was easier to close myself off from other people. I didn’t make friends with the healthy kids because they didn’t understand that I didn’t want to talk about the future. And I couldn’t make friends with the other sick kids because every time one of them died I was reminded that I could be next. It was easier to stay in my room with my computers. In there I could be Butterfly, and no one knew or cared that I was battling my fifth relapse or that my hair was gone. They only cared about how fast I could hack.”
Grant sniffles. “It sounds like neither one of us did much living when we had the chance.”
That stings, but there is more than a little truth to his words. “The thing is, if you had asked me back then, I would have told you I had a great life. Well, besides the whole cancer thing. But now I know better. Now I know what it’s like to have a friend. If I die tomorrow, at least I won’t die alone, and I could never thank you enough for that.”
Grant gives me a watery smile. “You know, if I could, I’d hug you right now.”
I smile back at him. “If you could, I might just let you.” I suck in a deep breath and let it out in a loud gust. “I guess it’s time to call it quits. Go lay down for some fake sleep and then let them kill me.”
“I wish I knew how to fix this.”
“That makes two of us.” I pause and second guess my next words before spitting them out. “Would you come with me? I don’t know what this is going to be like. To actually die. I know I’m not really alive now, but you know what I mean. I just…I don’t want to be alone.”
Grant reaches over and hovers his hand a centimeter above mine. I can almost feel him. “Together.”
C:>TWENTYNINE.exe
I pull the truck up to the house and park. Light pours out of every window sending alarm bells ringing through my head and ratcheting up my migraine. “What the hell is going on now?”
Grant winks at me. “I’m guessing it’s not a surprise party.”
“Alright, funny man.” I throw the door open and slide out, waiting for Grant to follow me before slamming it shut. “Let’s get this over with.”
We’re only halfway up the front walk when the door opens. At first, all I can see is a blurry figure backlit by the light streaming out of the house.
“Viviana.”
The door closes, and Dr. Brooks comes into focus. An unnatural chill runs down my back. This isn’t good.
“I thought you had until tomorrow.” Grant plants his feet and crosses his arms over his chest. “What is he doing here?”
“Good question,” I mutter under my breath. I raise my voice to carry over the ten yards separating us. “Not to be rude, Dr. Brooks, but why are you here?”
Dr. Brooks smiles and takes a few more steps forward. “It’s time.”
“Nope.” I shake my head and match Grant’s defiant stance. “I have until tomorrow. You can wait the five minutes for me to go inside and pretend to sleep.”
“I can wait, Viviana.” Dr. Brooks spreads his hands open. “But you can’t.”
Blinding pain streaks across my forehead, throbbing in concert with my pulse. “Jesus.” I close my eyes against the searing pain and drop to my knees, the thumb drive falling into the grass.
“Viv.” Grant drops down on the grass next to me, his voice screaming in my ear and raising my pain up to the next level. “What’s wrong?”
“My head.” I scream out against the pain. “I’m dying.”
“Yes, you are.” Dr. Brooks’ calm voice sounds from close above me. I can picture him standing there, lording over me like I’m a petulant child throwing a fit in the grocery store. “Your body is shutting down. Rejecting our attempts to keep it alive. You don’t have until tomorrow.”
“I just—” A sharp stab of cold and then sweet, pain-free warmth soaks through my body.
I droop to the ground, unable to control my body, but not caring because my brain has stopped trying to exit my skull through my eyeballs. If this is what death feels like, it’s not that bad.
“Holy shit, Viv. Stay with me.” Grant crouches over me, but his voice sounds far away, like he’s shouting from the far end of a tunnel. “I can’t do this without you anymore.”
Dr. Brooks’ smooth voice flows over me like warm caramel sauce on an ice cream sundae. “Ah, that would be the narcotics. Your real body is being pumped full of some powerful drug cocktails. No more pain, but we don’t have long before you lose consciousness. Once that happens, it will be too late.”
I nod. Or at least I tell my brain to nod. I have no idea if my body actually responds.
“Let’s get her out of here.”
Strong hands grab my arms and legs, scooting me onto a hard surface. Then I’m up and moving. I squint my eyes open, and there’s Grant, staring at me over the shoulder of some faceless VALR employee.
“Don’t leave me.”
Dr. Brooks laughs. “I have absolutely no intention of leaving your side until this is all over.”
My lips twitch to correct him, and this time Grant is the one to laugh. It’s such a nice sound. Not like Dr. Brooks. His laugh is harsh, with undertones of derision. Grant’s laugh is the opposite. Light and airy; it comes all the way from his heart.
“I’m right here, Butterfly. Just stay w
ith me, okay?”
I nod and the VALR employees heft me up into the back of a vehicle. Like an ambulance, but devoid of any lifesaving equipment. Dr. Brooks follows us inside, and Grant sneaks in just before the doors close.
Grant tucks his body into the corner. There are too many people in the small space. One wrong step and one of them could walk into Grant, sending his VR body to who knows where.
I stare into his eyes and force my voice to be steady. “Be careful.”
Dr. Brooks smiles down at me. “You’re in good hands, Viviana.”
If I had use of my limbs, Dr. Brooks would be short one set of gonads right now. I roll my eyes and try to ignore him. “Let’s have a joke.”
“This is hardly the time.” Dr. Brooks perches on a bench against the wall and frowns at me.
I ignore him and look to Grant.
Grant smiles back at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “How does an Octopus go into battle?”
I snort, knowing this is going to be ridiculously cheesy and loving it. “How does an Octopus go into battle?”
“What?” Dr. Brooks is thoroughly confused, and I couldn’t care less.
“Well armed.” Grant wiggles his arms around him as best he can in the tight space and bugs his eyes out like a man possessed.
“Sweet baby Jesus, that was bad.” I loll my head to the side and let out a barking laugh.
“So bad it was good.” Grant gives his arms another little shake.
Dr. Brooks sits motionless, staring into nothing. I can imagine the real life Dr. Brooks having a fit, storming around trying to figure out how they gave me too much pain meds. I sound like a crazed lunatic talking to herself, but that just makes this whole adventure a little more fun.
The vehicle pulls to a stop, and Dr. Brooks comes back to life. “Get her into a room now before we lose her.”
Strong hands lift me again, and I’m moving on a stretcher into the VALR building and down a series of hallways. I don’t pay attention to where we’re going. My eyes stay focused on Grant, running behind us to keep up.
Ghost Code Page 13