Doomed

by Tracy Deebs

  “After you beat the level,” he says grimly, and I can tell that, despite everything, he also feels awful about leaving Theo to fend for himself. “You’ve got to get past this or everything we’ve done doesn’t mean shit.”

  He’s right, but that doesn’t make it any easer to concentrate. I have to, though—the time on the screen reads 2:39. I just wish I knew how to harness this new power. I hit Shift+A, Shift+S, Shift+D, but nothing happens. I keep going along the keyboard unti I hit Shift+P and suddenly the rays blast forward, straight at the ground.

  “That’s it!” I crow.

  “What’s it?” asks Eli. In the distance, the snarls and yelps have gotten more furious.

  I reach into my avatar’s pockets, pull out more seeds. This time they scatter on the ground. The players around me, seeing this, do the same with their packets. We have thousands, as they were rewarded for passing Campe in the same way we were.

  I aim the rays at the seeds and blast away. Beneath my feet, strawberry plants begin to poke through the soil.

  This is it. I’ve found a way to complete the task. I keep shooting the rays, and soon the beginnings of blackberry bushes appear, followed by watermelon vines and the tops of corn stalks.

  “This is cool,” I tell Eli, caught up in the idea that somehow what I love to do in real life—gardening—has translated into this game. I don’t stop to think why or how my father knew this about me. I just concentrate on enjoying the fact that I can make plants grow and feed hungry people.

  As more and more plants come to life around me, a strange figure starts fading into the screen right behind me. I pray it’s not another monster—the countdown now reads :46. I don’t have time to grow the last of the plants and fight off a Greek nightmare at the same time. And I can’t stand the idea of losing, not when Theo is being injured, right now, just to save me.

  I ignore the new NPC as long as I can, concentrate on making sure I hit every seed I can find. With six seconds left to go, I hit the last seed and the figure materializes completely. It’s a beautiful woman, wearing a crown made of corn husks and carrying a torch.

  Demeter. Goddess of the harvest.

  Somehow in coming here, in discovering this self-sustaining, eco-friendly farm, we’ve managed to harness the power of Demeter and the harvest. Hers is the power I channeled there at the end, the hope Austin needs to survive.

  “Get me down!” I shriek, and Eli does, immediately. “I finished the level. Let’s get Theo.” I start running at a diagonal, back toward the road and the awful sound of snarling dogs.

  Eli’s right on my heels as I hit the road. I stop, look both ways, listen. The barking sounds close, but the wind makes it impossible to tell which direction it’s coming from. “Which way—” I ask, breaking off as Eli’s hand clamps around my wrist.

  He starts dragging me down the road toward the van. “I need to get you to safety.”

  “Don’t you dare pull that sexist crap on me!” I twist my wrist out of his grasp. “Theo needs—”

  “Theo needs to get the hell out of here,” Theo says as he runs up on us from behind. “Let’s go!”

  “You’re okay!” I gasp, nearly dizzy with relief.

  “Just peachy,” he answers, “but they’re really close.”

  We start running toward the van again. Beside me I can tell that Theo is laboring a little. I match my pace to his. Maybe he’s just tired, or maybe something really is wrong. I can’t tell in the dim glow cast by the ground lights.

  We hit the fence a few seconds before Eli does, and I can hear more barking behind us, along with rapid-fire Spanish. They’re a lot closer than they should be. I’m not sure we’ll make it over the fence …

  “Go, Pandora.” Eli picks me up again, giving me enough of a boost that my hands close around the spindles near the top of the fence. I scramble up and he braces my feet with his chest, giving me the extra support I need. I land on the roof of the van with a loud thump. Then he and Theo are climbing the fence. Eli makes it over first, while Theo struggles. That’s when I know, no matter what he said, something is really wrong with him.

  The men appear on the other side of the fence. One of the dogs with them jumps up, latches on to Theo’s boot while its master grabs Theo by the seat of his jeans and starts to pull him down.

  I lash out through the bars with my foot, catch the guy right in the balls. He lets go, crumpling to the ground with a groan. His partner makes a lunge for Theo, but this time Theo’s ready for him. He hits him in the face with one of his massive fists before clambering to safety.

  We fling ourselves into the van. I have the keys, so I settle myself in the driver’s seat, not even waiting for the doors to close behind Eli and Theo before I hit the gas.

  19

  “Are they following us?” I ask, afraid to take my eyes off the road long enough to check my rearview mirror. The driveway is dark and bumpy, and the last thing I want is to get a flat tire or run us off the road at one of the many bends.

  “I think we’re okay,” Theo says, exasperated. “With them being on foot and all.”

  “They must have a car,” I tell him defensively. “They could run back and get it.”

  “Yeah, well I’m more worried about the fact that they could easily have gotten our license plate. If they find a way to report this to the cops, Homeland Security is going to have a pretty good idea of what we’ve been up to,” Eli remarks as he moves to climb into the seat.

  As he does, he brushes against Theo, and Theo sucks in his breath on a hiss of pain. My heart drops. “You’re hurt. Where?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He doesn’t sound fine. Now that the adrenaline is subsiding, he sounds weak.

  I turn onto Highway 287, then glance at Eli. “Go check on him.”

  “He says he’s fine.”

  “Are you frickin’ kidding me? Find out what’s wrong with your brother!” I sound like an old-fashioned school-marm, but I can’t help it. Is he seriously going to let whatever shit they have between them keep him from being a decent human being?

  “He’s not my brother.” They both respond at the same time, and I blow out a breath, completely annoyed by them.

  “Then you tell me what’s wrong.” I make it an order and even risk glancing in the mirror so that Theo can see by my eyes that I mean business.

  He shrugs. “I got bit a couple of times.”

  “Shit.” I swerve the van to the side of the road. “Take over,” I tell Eli, climbing into the back without even turning off the engine.

  I hit the overhead light. “Let me see.”

  “I’m fine, Pandora. Just tired.”

  “I’m sure. But I still need to see how badly you’re hurt.”

  “Geez. He says he’s fine.” Eli doesn’t even try to hide his annoyance.

  I want to hit him. Theo’s pale and a little clammy, and now that I’m getting a good look at him I realize there’s blood on his palm, on the sleeve of his shirt, on his leg. “How many times were you bitten?” I demand, looking at a particularly nasty bite on the side of his hand.

  He shrugs, grimacing a little at the movement. That’s it. I’ve had more than enough of the stoic behavior. “Get your shirt off.” I climb into the cargo area and fumble through bags until I find the first-aid kit and peroxide.

  When I turn back, Theo hasn’t so much as moved. I get in his face. “Take the stupid thing off or I’ll do it for you.” I reach for the hem to prove I’m serious.

  Theo does move then, ducking and twisting a little to get his T-shirt off in the close confines of the van.

  I gasp when I see him. There are claw marks on his already-injured side, a couple of bites on his left biceps that blend into the cuts from the car accident, another on his right forearm. “When was your last tetanus shot?” I ask, opening up the first-aid kit. I really hope none of the bites are deep enough to need stitches. I’m so not up for that.

  “I don’t know,” he mutters. “About two years ago? I know I
was in high school.”

  “Thank God. And we’re going to go with the assumption the dogs weren’t rabid, as they’re kept as protection for that farm. Which means we just need to clean these thoroughly and hope they don’t get infected.”

  “Fantastic.” Theo sounds as grumpy as Eli did, but when he looks at me, his eyes are wary. Aloof.

  I start with the bites on his arm, thoroughly dousing them with peroxide and pretending not to notice when Theo swears a blue streak under his breath. After the peroxide dries, I cover them with antibacterial cream before bandaging them up. Then I move on to his hand. This cut is deeper, nastier, will leave a pretty decent-size scar. Which is a shame because Theo has beautiful hands, broad and long fingered, despite the numerous calluses. Or maybe because of them. Unlike his perfectly pressed khakis and polo shirts, those calluses seem to fit the Theo I’m getting to know.

  Not that he looks much like a prep now. I think back to what he looked like yesterday in class, compare it to today. His cheek is still bruised from the crash; the huge gash from the gas-station fight has crusted over but I’m afraid it will also scar. And now all these wounds, all this pain. I bet he wishes he’d never answered his door yesterday. God knows, I would in his place.

  “I don’t think this needs stitches,” I tell Theo as I clean his hand, being as gentle as possible. My voice sounds strange, husky, but I can’t do anything about the lump in my throat. I suspect it’s not going away any time soon.

  “Good.” This time when our eyes meet, his aren’t cold or distant. I smile a little and he smiles back, at least until I pour peroxide down the long, jagged scratches that run the length of his right side.

  “Really?” he demands, his voice hoarse from the pain. “Was that actually necessary?”

  “Don’t be a baby.” I want to give him sympathy but know enough not to. Theo isn’t the kind who takes well to people feeling bad for him.

  “I’ll remember this the next time you have an open, bleeding wound.”

  “Hold on to that thought,” I say as I rub gauze along the edge of the widest scratch, making sure it’s clean. “At the rate we’re going, it’ll probably be tomorrow.”

  “No doubt.” He looks less than gleeful at the prospect.

  “Are there any more?” I ask, scooting closer to look at his back. His tan, sculpted, beautifully muscled back. As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I have the urge to scrub my brain out with bleach. The last thing I need to be thinking about right now is Theo’s muscles.

  “There’s a scratch on my hip,” he says, looking out the window over my shoulder. “And a couple of bites on the back of my thigh. But I can get them.”

  “Oh, really? I’d like to see that. Drop your pants, buddy.” I work hard to sound more nonchalant than I feel.

  Theo grins. “If you insist.” He fumbles with his belt buckle, the bandage on his right hand making him clumsy where he never has been before. At least I think it’s the bandage, as I’m suddenly feeling a little clumsy myself.

  Eli swerves off the highway into a secluded rest stop, brings the van to a screeching halt. A second later he appears between the two front seats, his face twisted into a snarl. “Give me the damn peroxide. I’ll do it while you drive.”

  Except I don’t drive anywhere. We’re about an hour away from Endeavor Farms, and if anyone from there was going to catch us, they probably would have already. Besides, driving around out here wasting gas without knowing where we’re going seems like a really crappy idea. So, instead, I sit on the hood of the van, computer on my lap, while Eli takes care of the bites on Theo’s leg.

  I’m not sure which one of them is more pissed off and miserable about it. Theo, probably, since Eli seems to be going out of his way to be a little rough with the cleaning.

  I lean back against the windshield and look up at the stars in the sky. It’s a clear night and the sky is filled with the small twinkling lights. I don’t usually get to see them this well because most times when I’m outside in the dark, I make sure I’m surrounded by lamps.

  But out here too much light would call attention to us. Plus, there’s something oddly comforting about listening to Eli and Theo bicker in the back of the van. Usually, it’s just exhausting, but tonight the savagery of their relationship has been replaced with a much more mellow vibe. I don’t know why, but I’m grateful for the reprieve.

  “You look deep in thought,” Eli says when he climbs out of the van a few minutes later.

  “Just stargazing.”

  He levers himself onto the hood next to me, settles down to stare up at the sky, too. “What are we looking at?”

  “Where’s Theo?” I glance into the van, realize the light went out when Eli closed the door. I wait for the familiar alarm to overtake me, but it doesn’t. With Eli next to me and Theo close by, these moments in the dark don’t seem so bad.

  “Taking a much-needed nap. We figured we’d hang here for a while, play the game. Decide what we’re supposed to do next.”

  Exactly what I’d been thinking before I was seduced by the constellations. “See that weird-shaped vee up there?” I tell him, pointing at the very top of the sky and tracing the shape.

  “Is that Pandora?”

  I laugh. “No. My namesake caused entirely too much destruction to have a constellation named after her. That’s Andromeda.”

  “Ah, the princess who was to be sacrificed to the Cracken.”

  “You really do know your Greek myths.”

  “I know Clash of the Titans. I must have watched it a million times when I was little.”

  “Who hasn’t? The old one, with the terrible special effects and Harry Hamlin as Perseus, right?”

  “Is there another one?”

  I start to tell him about the remake before I realize he’s joking. “So who was your favorite character in the movie?” I ask instead.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never really been a Greek-god kind of person. I was always more about the Titans, which is why my mom gave me the movie to watch in the first place. She didn’t realize it was a loose interpretation of the word ‘Titan.’ ”

  “How can you like the Titans? Cronus isn’t exactly a nice guy.”

  “Cronus, no. But the rest of them weren’t so bad. Especially Gaia.”

  A gust of wind blows by and I shiver—November in North Texas is a lot colder than it is in Austin. Eli scoots closer, puts an arm around me to warm me up. I think about shifting away but don’t. The truth is, I kind of like the way it feels to be held.

  “Do you see that constellation up there?” I point to the very bottom of the sky and trace my way up through lots of angles and turns. “That’s my favorite. It’s Eridanus the River. There’s no huge story about it, no major myth, just the belief that the ancient Greeks and Egyptians wouldn’t have life without it. We can’t actually see the whole thing from where we are—we need to be south of the Equator if we want to see Achernar. It’s the brightest star and also the southernmost tip.”

  I wait for Eli to comment, but he doesn’t say anything. When I turn to look at him, I realize it’s because he’s fallen asleep.

  I think about waking him, sending him inside the van. But where’s he going to sleep, with Theo already wedged into the only available spaces? The hood of the van is as good as one of the passenger seats, I figure.

  Besides, the company’s nice. I’m as exhausted as he is, but my brain is going too fast to even contemplate sleep. Snuggling a little deeper into Eli’s embrace, I flip open my laptop.

  If Theo’s Internet bridge has held up, it’s time for level two.

  20

  This time, the game drops me in the middle of nowhere. Which isn’t exactly accurate—there are a few gas stations around, a diner, and a couple of stores—but it might as well be nowhere, since I have no idea where I am. I try looking up, like I did back in Austin, but all I see is a wide black sky dotted with stars. A sky that, now that I think about it, looks remarkably like the one I’ve just spent th
e last hour staring at in real life.

  I must still be in Texas, then, or somewhere close, though I don’t know how I got here. Leveled up to it, I guess. Whatever else he’s done, my dad sure has put a lot of time and thought into his version of Pandora’s Box.

  I start walking—what else am I supposed to do out here?—but try to keep an eye out for whatever is going to attack me. I know something’s coming, because it always does—fight first, task second. It’s the way the game has always been set up.

  It doesn’t take very long for me to realize that other players have beat me here. I don’t know how, since I can’t imagine anyone else managed to guess “pomegranate,” but as I step over a few dead bodies and weave my way through the crowds that have gathered, I realize I’ve seen some of these people before: Lilia628, Violet41, Master97. They were with me in the fields, and with me still when I raced against time and a bunch of vicious dogs in an attempt to make it to this level.

  Which means, somehow, I leveled them up with me. Which is weird, but kind of cool. At least I’m not alone, trying to figure this out all on my own. Part of me wonders if that’s what my father intended all along. He set me on this crazy, destructive mission, but at least he hadn’t planned on my going it alone—it’s not like he could have known about Eli and Theo in advance.

  But, though I like not being alone, I have to admit, I’m not crazy about the way everyone is crowding around me, jockeying for position. Following me like I’m the leader when I really don’t have a clue what it is I’m supposed to be doing.

  IMs keep popping up at the bottom of my screen, though I ignore them as I continue walking. But then I come across a large group of people gathered around a big rock. One is bleeding heavily, and the others are sharpening sticks. Preparing for battle the best way they can—which is extremely limited in this brave new world.

  In the old Pandora’s Box I had wealth and weapons and a pretty decent fighting strength. Here, in this version, all I have are the clothes on my back and the people around me. Though, when I look at my strength in the game, I realize I’ve outstripped everyone else by nearly fifty thousand points. I’m not sure why, but I’d guess it’s because I’m the one who entered the AR gate password.