CHAPTER 3
A DARK PLACE
1
Michael had barely closed his mouth when Agent Weber stood up so abruptly that her chair flipped backward.
Michael jumped, surprised at her reaction. “Was I supposed to say no?”
But she wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the door, her hand held to her ear as if she was listening to some kind of device planted there. “Something’s wrong,” she said. “You were followed.”
Michael got to his feet, shaken by how quickly this woman had gone from terrifying to terrified. “Followed? By who?” he asked.
“You don’t want to know, Michael. Come on.”
She didn’t wait for his response. Without another word she charged for the door. Michael went after her, and soon they were out in the hall, surrounded by several armed guards. This time without the ridiculous black masks.
“Get him back home,” Agent Weber directed, in charge again. “And make sure no one sees you do it.”
A man and a woman appeared, took Michael by the arm, and started leading him down the hallway.
“Wait!” he yelled, struggling to put together the sudden turn of events. “Wait! You barely told me anything!”
Heels clicking along the tile floor, Agent Weber approached him. “Tell your friends what I just told you. Bryson and Sarah. No one else. No one. Do you understand me? Tell anyone—even your parents—and we’ll erase them.”
That last bit shifted everything inside of him to anger. “Erase them?”
“I need the three of you to dig, Michael,” she said, ignoring him. “I suggest you start in the darkest, seediest places inside the VirtNet. Ask around, follow the rumors. I need you to find where Kaine’s hiding out—it’s the only way we can learn the complete truth behind the Mortality Doctrine and how he plans to use it. Do whatever it takes. You have the skills. We’ll have tracers on you and we’ll follow you in once you’ve discovered where he’s hiding it. Help us solve this problem and you’ll be set for life, whatever you want. We have others searching, too. Get there first and you’ll be rewarded.”
His mouth opened—to say what, he had no idea—but she’d already turned and was making her way back down the hall.
“Let’s go,” one of the guards said.
They pulled Michael along in the opposite direction.
2
They didn’t go back to the car. The guards—they didn’t say one word to Michael the entire time—escorted him down countless hallways until they came out of an old abandoned building next to a subway station, where they left him. People milled about, the sun shone down through a break in the clouds, and a candy wrapper floated through the air on the breeze. The world had gone along exactly as before, while his life had just changed forever.
Going to school was furthest thing from his mind. Dazed and scared, Michael wandered to a coffee shop and got the biggest cup they had. Then to the train station and home. The first thing he did there was arrange a meeting for the next day with Bryson and Sarah. He gave them just enough information to get them interested—he knew if he told them too much, they wouldn’t sleep, and he had a feeling they were going to need all the rest they could get.
3
Michael made the mistake of watching the NewsBops that night.
He was all alone, curled up in the Chair—his parents weren’t home, and he still couldn’t remember when they’d be back. Helga usually went to bed when the sun set. His NetScreen shot out of his EarCuff and hovered before him, revealing all the dreary news of the day. Murders, bank failures, natural disasters. Nothing like a pick-me-up right before going to bed, he thought sadly. Usually such things seemed far away—things that happened to others. But for some reason it all felt a little closer to home after his talk with Agent Weber.
He was just about to turn the news off when a story flashed open that made him stop. An older news anchor was talking about the latest buzz lighting up the VirtNet: the cyber-terrorist known as Kaine.
With a flick of his finger, Michael turned up the volume and leaned forward, focusing as if the next couple of minutes were the most important of his life.
“… the cause of several suicides, according to witnesses and messages sent by victims before their deaths,” the lady said. “Kaine has been known to infiltrate almost every popular game and social site in the VirtNet, not to mention countless reports of individual harassment. Not since the disappearance of the legendary Gunner Skale has an individual’s story lit up the VirtNet quite like this. What Kaine’s purpose might be, no one can guess. The VNS has given its word in an official statement that they are doing everything within their vast resources to locate the man and shut his access down permanently.”
She continued speaking, and Michael stared and listened, half fascinated and half terrified. Virtual kidnappings that ended in virtual torture and incarceration from which people were unable to Lift themselves back to the Wake. Entire games or networks shut down or erased, nothing left but a line of code stating that “Kaine was here.” Brain-dead players found in their NerveBoxes.
Michael had now heard all too much about the horrors committed by Kaine. What could be the man’s purpose? Was he doing it all just for kicks?
Kaine.
The Mortality Doctrine.
People trapped in the Sleep. People showing up brain-dead. Others killing themselves just to escape the guy.
Michael sighed. Happy thoughts, all.
On that note, he crawled into bed and went to sleep. For some reason he dreamed about his parents and a vacation to the beach they’d taken together long, long ago.
4
Michael was thankful the next day was Saturday. Helga made some mean waffles and topped them with all the things that make a person fat—butter, whipped cream, syrup. She threw in a few strawberries to lessen the guilt factor. Neither of them spoke, and Michael wondered if she’d been watching the same NewsBops as he had. Cheerful stuff. At least he was going to see his friends later.
A couple of hours after breakfast, Michael’s real body was snug inside the Coffin, while his liberated VirtNet body sat down on an out-of-the-way bench in New York’s Central Park, another one of his favorite meeting spots. The second-best thing to virtual food was to be surrounded by nature. A sight he didn’t see too often in the smoggy concrete jungle he called home.
Bryson and Sarah were waiting impatiently when he arrived.
“This better be good,” Bryson announced. “Like, wet-my-pants good.”
“Why were you so cryptic, anyway?” Sarah added.
Michael wasn’t so much scared anymore as excited to spill everything that had happened since he’d been nabbed in the alley. A little worried that someone could be eavesdropping, he started his story in a whisper but soon was speeding through the details so fast he was barely coherent.
Sarah and Bryson just stared at him in confusion.
“Um, maybe you should start over,” Bryson said.
Sarah nodded. “From the beginning. And talk like a normal person.”
“Okay, yeah.” Michael inhaled a long pull of fresh—but fake—air and started over. “So, I was walking to catch the train for school yesterday when this car pulls up and practically runs me down. Then these psycho dudes in black masks jump out and drag me into the backseat.”
Bryson interrupted. “Wait. Michael, did you eat something funny today?”
Michael rolled his eyes. “No, just … listen.” He couldn’t blame them for having doubts, but he was starting to get frustrated that he couldn’t get his story out.
He took another breath and kept going, and by the time he got to Agent Weber discovering he’d been followed and having her guards whisk him away, he could see that his friends believed he was dead serious. He finished up by relaying the horrible things from the NewsBops—most of which they’d heard themselves.
They sat in silence for at least a minute, stealing glances at the trees and bushes around them to see if anyone might be spying.
Bryson broke the silence. “Wow. Why would they ask three teenagers to solve their problems?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Michael said. “Agent Weber said others would be searching, too. Maybe they’re finding the best gamers and coders around and giving them an opportunity to crack whatever secret location Kaine has created. She knew we could hack and code. I’m telling you, it wasn’t a joke.”
“But how can we do anything the VNS people can’t do?” Sarah asked. “That’s their whole job, and frankly it scares me that they’re trying to pawn it off on kids.”
Bryson scoffed. “Old geezers always know that the next generation is smarter than they’ll ever be at this stuff. I mean, we hang out in this place. We do know it better than anyone. We can do it because it’s not our job. It’s our hobby.”
“And it has to do with more than programming,” Michael added, glad that Bryson was making it sound legitimate. “They need users, not just makers. Who’s better than us?”
“You sure that’s it?” Sarah asked. “Or do you just want an excuse to play?”
“Don’t you?” Michael asked.
“Yeah, well.” She shrugged and smiled.
“And what was that little part about being set for life if we find it?” Bryson asked. “That lady better have meant all three of us, not just you.”
“I’m sure she did,” Michael answered, even though he didn’t know for sure. “We’ll be rich, work for the VNS, whatever. But we absolutely can’t tell anyone about this.” For some reason he couldn’t bring himself to mention the less-than-veiled threats Agent Weber had also doled out. But then, maybe they didn’t apply to his friends.
“I admit, it sounds fun—it’d be a good challenge,” Sarah said.
Michael agreed. A game that wasn’t a game anymore—it was more important than a game. In that second he got so excited to start that he almost stood up, ready to move.
Bryson must’ve read the expression on his face. “Hold on to your pants, there, brother. We’ve gotta be sure about this.”
“I know,” Michael replied. “I am.” And he meant it fully.
Something happened then. An uncomfortable oddness suddenly permeated their surroundings, flooding Michael with fear. Everything in the park around them slowed to a crawl, like a fly trapped in syrup.
Sarah’s hand was moving to tuck her hair behind her ear. Bryson’s mouth was stretching into a smile—his mischievous one, his way of letting everyone know he agreed and was committed. The tree branches above them swayed lazily. A bird flew past, and Michael could see its wing move up, then down. The air thickened, filled with a stifling humidity.
And then it all disappeared in a flash of light, replaced by spinning stars and a maniac’s laughter.
5
Michael’s body had been subjected to everything imaginable in terms of motion within the VirtNet, the Coffin always doing its trick to make things as realistic as possible. Roller coasters, diving airplanes, rockets being shot to other universes at light speed, more falls than he could ever count. But whatever happened to them in that moment felt like it was going to rip his body into a hundred pieces. His stomach turned and his brain split into ten kinds of pain. All the while, stars spun, and he couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or closed. He lost all awareness of his surroundings, and he suddenly wondered if the Coffin would be able to handle the stress.
Abruptly, the craziness stopped. Michael’s insides clenched and he heaved, but nothing came out. He slowly regained his breath and looked around. All was frozen in darkness except for small lights winking in the distance.
There were two bodies next to him. He could barely see them—they weren’t much more than shadows—but he knew it was Bryson and Sarah. It had to be.
The lights began to swirl, then coalesce, moving more rapidly with each passing second—collecting immediately in front of them into a ball that grew larger and brighter, until Michael could barely look at it. It spun like a celestial body, pulsing with brilliance.
Michael and his friends—floating, frozen, silent—waited. Michael tried to speak but couldn’t. Tried to move but was paralyzed. Fear surged through every last inch of him. And then a voice spoke from the blinding ball of light, throbbing with each word. And it was terrifying.
“My name is Kaine,” it said. “And I see all.”
6
Whatever had paralyzed Michael didn’t release its hold on him.
The chilling voice continued, “Do you really think I’m not aware of VNS and their efforts to stop me? Can you imagine that I’d let anything happen within the VirtNet that doesn’t serve my interests? This is my domain now, and only the boldest, the strongest, and the smartest will be allowed to serve me in the end. VNS and players like you will be rendered utterly insignificant.”
Michael strained to break free from the force that held him.
“You have no idea the power I have,” Kaine’s voice said. “I’m warning all who try to stop me. You will not be warned twice.” The voice paused. “See what awaits if you don’t heed my words.”
The ball of spinning light vanished, replaced by a huge rectangle that looked like one of the screens on which they used to watch movies decades ago. Images flashed across the screen as it grew wider and taller, until it almost filled Michael’s entire vision.
It was as if he’d been inserted into the mind of a lunatic: A city of rubble, devoid of color, people huddling in the gutters.
Several slack-jawed men in a smoky room, seemingly waiting to be burned alive as flames licked at the edges of a door.
An old woman in a rocking chair, slowly raising a gun.
Two teenagers, laughing, pushing little kids off a high cliff and watching them fall.
A hospital full of frail, sickly patients, its door chained and locked from the outside. Several haggard-looking people splashing gasoline on its walls, one of them pulling out a lighter.
The horrifying scenes continued, flashing one after another, growing more unspeakable. Michael’s body trembled with the effort to break free. It was worse than any nightmare from which he’d ever struggled to wake.
Kaine’s voice spoke again, coming from everywhere at once.
“You know so little about what’s really going on. You are children in every sense of the word. All this and more awaits your mind if you continue.”
And then it ended. Everything vanished, and Michael found himself back inside his Coffin. But his throat hurt, and he realized he must’ve been screaming for quite some time.