“Shouldn’t we split up?” Bryson asked. “We could cover way more ground.”
“Helga swore to give me the true death if I let you two boys out of my sight,” he replied. “After she cut off all my special parts.”
“Ouch,” Bryson whispered. “She’s one tough nanny.”
“What is the true death?” Michael asked, ignoring his friend. “No one ever told us in there.”
“Really?” Walter responded. “Right now?”
Michael shrugged.
Bryson sided with Walter. “How about he tells us when we’re done dealing with Janey and her creepy friends?”
Michael sighed. “Fine.”
Walter gave him a curt nod—he had a handgun similar to the one Michael had wanted—then crouched and inched up to the back of the car, peeking around the edge. Bryson was next, then Michael, who lifted his head enough to look through the window. On the other side of the vehicle, trees crowded the hillside, growing thicker and thicker until they formed a dark forest. Michael felt that familiar gaming itch—the curiosity of the unexplored, the certainty that there was something sinister hidden out there. He realized that it helped him feel braver to approach this like a game.
Walter turned back and motioned for Michael and Bryson to follow him, then made a break for the woods. Michael stayed close to Bryson, crouching as low as possible, with a tight grip on his rifle. He stopped at the first line of trees, holding his weapon as if it were a lance in a joust. Even though he was trying to think of this as a game, he couldn’t fathom pulling the trigger any time soon. What he was really hoping for was a chance to talk to Janey or any other Tangent. He’d already thought it through. He’d decided that if the opportunity presented itself, he would accidentally “get lost” and take off on his own. He needed information, not dead children—no matter who lived in their heads.
It got darker as they crept deeper into the woods and the canopy of leaves grew thicker over their heads. Dry pine straw crackled under Michael’s feet. Branches scratched his arms as he swept his gun left and right. Shadows passed, drawing his attention to the dark corners of the forest, and curling bark and thick branches of pine needles twisted into long arms and fingers reaching out to tug at his hair and clothes. No one spoke as they moved through the maze of the forest. Only their footsteps and the buzz of insects broke the silence.
They pressed forward for ten or fifteen minutes, like three hunters looking for a hapless deer. The fading sunlight barely illuminated the forest floor, creating a shadowy gloom that made Michael wonder if they might not be stepping right past the very Tangents they were searching for.
Suddenly he caught a glimpse of movement off to his right, a quick flash of something bright moving from one tree to another. Walter and Bryson were already moving on, so Michael slowed his steps until he stopped completely, and continued to crunch the pine straw underfoot. His companions were so lost in concentration that they didn’t notice they’d left Michael, and soon they’d turned a corner, disappearing behind a huge oak. Michael took his opportunity. He turned as slowly as possible toward the movement he’d seen in the forest.
He crept up to the tree where he’d seen the movement stop.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Michael whispered. “I’m…uh…the First. Please, just let me talk to whoever’s leading you guys out here. Let me talk to Janey.”
A couple of seconds went by before an answer came, a soft but harsh rasp. A man. “Janey’s a child. What would make you think she leads us?”
Michael definitely hadn’t been expecting that to be the response. “Um, okay. She said—”
“Yes,” the voice interrupted. “Many of my friends have chosen to take the bodies of children. But the agreement is that they’re too weak to lead.”
It was already a weird conversation, and Michael didn’t have much time. “Look, I’m a Tangent, just like you guys. They call me the First.”
“We know who you are, Michael.”
“Okay. Well, I just want to talk to someone who knows what’s going on. That Janey girl threatened us, but I’m pretty sure we’re on the same side. I don’t get it.”
Another long pause stretched on. Michael looked back, worried that Walter would come charging through those distant trees at any second. Finally, the man behind the tree responded.
“Wait here and I’ll bring our leader to you. But give me your weapon first.” A weathered but muscled arm appeared, the hand palm up and fingers outstretched.
A flurry of thoughts whirled through Michael’s mind. How insane to even consider—
“Fine,” he said, cutting it all off. He handed over the rifle and the man vanished into the woods, barely making a sound.
4
It was too good to be true that he’d lose his friends for long. Moments after he handed over his rifle, Bryson called out his name. It sounded like they’d moved on farther than he’d expected. Bryson called again, and Michael could hear a few indecipherable words that didn’t sound very nice.
A low rustle came from the other side of the tree at which he crouched; then a man appeared, sitting down right next to Michael on the forest floor. He was older, maybe fifty, his head shaved, with a full red beard hanging well past his chin. He was muscular, powerful-looking, everything about him like an ancient Viking.
“My name is Trae,” he said, his voice surprisingly kind, with an odd, lilting accent.
“Trae?” Michael repeated.
“Yes, Trae.”
“You’re…sure?” It was a name Michael had never heard before.
“Of course I’m sure!” he somehow whispered and yelled at the same time. “What do you want? You have two minutes.”
Michael tried to get past the Viking-like presence of this so-called leader.
“I need to…understand,” he said, wishing he knew how to articulate the millions of questions congesting his mind. “Who are you? I mean, who are you really? Are you really Tangents, and if you are, where in the Sleep did you come from? Why are we a threat to you? Janey said you don’t work for Kaine anymore. What does that mean? What are you trying to accomplish?”
Trae’s eyes grew wider as the questions spilled from Michael.
“I said you had two minutes,” he answered, “not two hours. Want me to give you a quick rundown of European history while we’re at it?”
Bryson’s voice stopped Michael’s response. He called Michael’s name again, and it sounded like he’d gotten closer.
“Sorry,” he said in a rush. Michael took a deep breath, slowing himself down. “Who are you? Why would you come here and threaten to hurt us?”
“We’re Tangents,” Trae replied matter-of-factly. “Given the gift of true flesh and bone for the first time. We earned it, and we’re not going to let the likes of you ruin it for everybody.”
“Everybody, huh? What about the people you stole that flesh and bone from?”
Trae shrugged. “They’re safe enough. Happy enough. They’ll take their turn living in the Sleep for a bit, then maybe have another chance someday.”
Michael’s mouth dropped open, but he didn’t know what to say at first. “A…another chance? What do you mean?”
“Michael!” Walter, this time, not sounding very happy. And definitely closer.
“Word on the street,” Trae said, acting as if he hadn’t heard the shout, “or should I say, word in the woods…word is that you’ve seen the Hive.”
Michael couldn’t believe it. “How do you know that?” Realizing his mistake, he added, “If I even did.”
Trae let out a genuine chuckle. “We have our ways, as they say. And we know that you’ve seen the Hive. You know how it works. The true death only comes to a few, so what you’re fighting against is nothing for you to worry about.”
“But you said you don’t work for Kaine anymore,” Michael countered urgently. He knew Bryson would be on him any second. “Why are you against us? What’s going on?”
Trae fixed Michael in his gaze. �
��Kaine has his own agenda. And one thing’s for sure—” The footsteps were nearing, crashing through the bushes, snapping twigs and pine straw, and the Tangent stopped, looked past Michael for the source of the noise.
“What’s that?” Michael pressed. “What’s for sure?”
Trae leaned a little closer to Michael. “Kaine’s a lot smarter than those who slapped his code together, and his vision for the future is…dangerous. As for you, well. Like Janey told you, you’re either for us or against us. And by my reckoning, you have about twenty minutes to decide. How could you possibly want to work for Kaine anymore?”
“I don’t….I never have!” Michael said under his breath. “But I certainly won’t work for Weber, either.” He took a chance throwing the VNS agent’s name out there.
Trae didn’t respond. Instead he looked at his watch. Time was ticking.
“What’ll you do to us?” Michael asked weakly.
Trae nodded back in the direction of the barracks. “There’s a lot more of us than there are of you. I’ll just say that. And nothing, lad—and I truly mean nothing—is going to get in our way. We don’t like what’s going on with the Tangents in those barracks, and we aim to stop it. Go back now. And I suggest you all accept our demands when the times comes.”
“Michael!”
He spun to see Bryson standing just a few feet away, between two large pine trees. When Michael turned back toward Trae, the man was gone.
“Did you see him?” Michael asked.
“See who?” Bryson replied.
Michael sighed. “Never mind. Did you find anything?”
“No, I’ve been looking for you the whole time. Walter called for you but kept going—he said he had his own job to do. What happened? Who did you see?”
Michael collapsed against the tree behind him and slid down to the ground. “Just some guy. Said a bunch of stuff that makes about as much sense as everything else we’ve been told. I think Weber is behind these people somehow, which doesn’t explain much. And it almost seems worse than Kaine leading them.”
“Dude,” Bryson said, somehow making it sound like a reprimand.
Michael groaned and got to his feet. It felt like he weighed a thousand pounds. “We need to go back. And then I think we need to leave. Something really bad is about to go down around here.”
5
Night began to fall, enveloping the grounds around the barracks in darkness. The dying glow of the setting sun would be gone within minutes. Michael and Bryson made it out of the woods without incident and saw that most of the others had returned already. Their figures, hooded in shadows, were grouped together behind the cars.
“Michael, come here!”
It was Walter. He stood up from his defensive crouch and motioned for Michael to join them.
“Where’d you go?” the man asked.
Michael didn’t know how much to share of what he’d learned. Bryson was quicker on his feet, thankfully.
“Find anything?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah,” the man answered vaguely. He was clearly angry he’d lost the boys. “Both of you are lucky you didn’t have your throats slit out there.”
“Amy’s back,” someone whispered from the group by the cars.
“Inside,” Walter commanded, glaring at Michael. The dusky light only made the command feel more menacing. Michael looked at Bryson and nodded. They should head back—Janey’s deadline was only a few minutes away.
6
Michael straggled behind the remaining group as they returned to the bunker. He was last to enter the building and could feel the nervous energy the moment he stepped inside. Everyone was on their feet, surrounding Helga. Walter went straight to her to give his recap of what they’d found in the woods. Michael hung back—he wished he’d had more time with the man named Trae.
“Not much good news,” Helga announced to the room. “Walter spotted a group of twenty. Armed. Only a few were children, despite what that little ghost of a girl claimed. Amy and Chris saw others lurking behind trees.”
She paused, seemingly searching for how to finish.
“Richard found some wire, followed it to the base of the barracks. Looks like there’s enough explosives packed around the edges to blow us to the moon. I don’t know when they set them, but we’re in a heap of trouble. And I’m afraid that if we try to leave, they’ll detonate.”
“Can’t we just cut the wires or something?” Sarah’s mom asked. “Doesn’t anyone know how to disconnect them? Disarm them? Whatever?”
“Bad idea,” Walter answered. “If we don’t know what we’re working with, it could all go off in our faces.”
The room fell silent. Michael folded his arms and tried to think. The thing that bothered him most was that these people said they didn’t work for Kaine anymore. And if Michael had learned anything from gaming, it was that if you wanted to win a war, you had to know who the enemy was.
Helga let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry to say it, but—”
Her last word hung in the air as the lights blinked off. Helga’s voice was replaced by a flurry of whispers and shuffling feet. Sarah grabbed Michael’s hand and he reached out to clasp onto Bryson’s elbow. There wasn’t a hint of light in the room—Michael couldn’t see a thing. Even the Coffins’ glow had disappeared. They’d cut the power.
“Calm down!” Helga shouted from the blackness. “Everyone, stay where you are.”
EarCuffs clicked and NetScreens lit up, casting a green glow on everyone’s faces.
Michael could make out Sarah’s parents standing behind her and Michael. They looked even more scared than Michael felt. Gerard had his hands on Sarah’s shoulders, and Nancy had her arms wrapped around her husband.
Helga started speaking again. “Amy, Chris, go pull our friends out of the NerveBoxes. I don’t think we have any choice but to—”
Crash.
Helga never finished her sentence. A rock exploded through a window on the far end of the barracks, glass raining down on the carpeted floor. The fist-sized stone rolled to a stop in front of Michael.
Bryson leaned close to Michael to whisper in his ear. “Dude, I’m about ready to give up on these people. I think we did a lot better job of taking care of ourselves on our own.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Michael responded. “Just not really the best moment for that.”
Another rock crashed through a window, this time closer. Michael jumped, his heart almost stopping. He spun around just in time to see the last shards of glass sprinkle on the carpet around the large stone. This was followed by only a few seconds of shocked silence before yet another rock broke through a window, then another, then another. Screams filled the room as crash after crash splintered the air, stones thumping on the carpet and glass flying like crystal bugs.
Michael and his friends instinctively pulled together. Michael felt glass hit his back; a fragment pricked his neck and stuck there, stinging.
It seemed to last forever, one after another, concussions of sound like a series of thunder strikes. Michael had to press back the certainty that at any moment the world would blow up around him, sending them to oblivion.
Then, suddenly, it stopped. The silence was so stark, Michael worried for a moment he’d lost his hearing. Gradually he could make out breathing, the occasional high tinkle of a shard of glass falling out of the window frame to the ground. Still, no one spoke.
A flash of movement at the nearest window caught Michael’s attention, immediately followed by the distinct giggles of a little girl. Walter raised his gun and started toward the window, but Helga stopped him.
“Remember what they hold over us,” she said to him. “You start firing that gun and they blow us up. We’re out of options, my friend. Except…”
More movement outside, more laughter, both boys and girls, from the sound of it. Something about these people was really starting to sicken Michael. He didn’t care what kind of Tangents had taken over their bodies; they were still children,
running around in harm’s way. Could the adults be using them as bait? It was so confusing, he almost wished he were back in that prison cell.
Finally, Helga’s last comment caught up with him. Except…except what? Her people were looking at her with varying expressions of shock. It seemed something was going on here that Michael and his friends didn’t understand.
“You can’t be serious,” Walter said after a long silence.
“You can’t be serious to question me,” Helga countered. “We’re completely out of options. Do you think they’re going to let us walk out of here?”
“But it’s against everything our alliance stands for.” The eerie laughing hadn’t stopped, filtering in through the windows like something from a haunted orphanage.
A man’s voice suddenly thundered at them.
“Your hour is up! We want your leader to come outside with her hands in the air or we’ll detonate. We see one sign of a weapon and it’s all over.”
Michael thought it sounded like Trae—it was the same lilting accent. Maybe this was a chance to surrender and leave. He looked at Helga, whose eyes made it clear that she didn’t agree.
“We have no choice,” she said, sounding tired. “We have to give them the true death.”
CHAPTER 5
BEDTIME STORIES
1
“I’m coming!” Helga called back. “I won’t have a weapon, and you’ll want to hear what I have to say. We have something that could be very valuable to you.”
Michael turned to his friends and shot them a questioning look. They clearly didn’t know any more than he did. The green glow of the NetScreens around the room shone in their eyes, lighting them up like orbs of kryptonite.
“Enough talk!” Trae yelled back. “You have three seconds to get out here.”
Helga quickly walked to the door, opened it, and stepped outside. Walter twitched with an obvious desire to follow her, but held his place. He had a murderous, angry expression on his face.
The Game of Lives Page 5