JACKIE THREW HER back against the front door, slid to the floor of the porch, and reached behind her dripping hair to tear the AirPods from her ears. Her gasping breaths spread in billows from her face—proving the cold weather—but the air burned her throat as she watched the water stream over the edge of the roof in a waterfall. The rain hadn’t started until she was halfway through her run, but by then it’d been too late to avoid the ambush.
I’m a poser, and a loner.
Triple check my, persona.
The rock music buzzed in her left hand, dulled by the wind, but she’d heard the Cuffed Up song Small Town Kid so many times the lyrics remained clear to her. She hummed with the vocals as the uneven pattering of rain threatened to knock her off beat.
Outside is a little more substance.
Inside is a little big lie.
Jackie raised her phone to her face, blocking sight of the drizzling water. With a few swipes she closed the apps on her phone—including Spotify—and cut the music from the air completely. After tucking the AirPods into the zippered pocket of her wet jacket, she stood with broken balance and opened the front door.
The entryway greeted her, its walls blocking sight of the dining room only a few steps away. Her thawing fingers stung in the house that now felt twenty degrees too warm for comfort.
“I know. I can’t believe she’s gone. Do you think it’s connected to what happened back then?” Jay’s voice trailed away as Jackie kicked the door shut behind her. “Maybe I could…”
Jackie reached the end of the entryway to find Jay sitting at the dining table, a phone sandwiched between his ear and his shoulder and a stack of wrinkled papers in his hands.
“I’m so sorry, Whitney.” Jay’s eyes jolted from the papers in his grip to Jackie, head remaining still. “I’ll call you later. Promise.”
Jay’s phone clinked against the dining table as Jackie tossed the running shoes off her feet. She almost walked to the stairway before remembering the last time Mrs. Mendoza had exploded when she’d forgotten to place her shoes onto the rack. Jackie leaned over to pick them up and rose to find Jay’s pages spread across the dining table.
“Did you hear what Dad said on the phone?” Jay twirled the stud in his right ear, scanning the pages, hungry for something. “He really didn’t want you running today.”
Jackie slapped her shoes onto the rack. “Then don’t tell him.”
Mr. Mendoza had called Jay on their way home from school, stressed over the email he’d received about Peter and Kat’s disappearance. After a long day of listening to rumors in every class, Jackie was sick of hearing their names.
“Are you hungry?” Jay’s hand fell from his ear as he gathered the papers back into a stack. “I can warm up the chicken adobo Mom made for us last night.”
No, the food she made for you, Jackie thought. Jay had always embraced their Filipino culture more than she had, an easy way to win favorite points with Mrs. Mendoza. Their mom always made an effort to prepare Jay’s favorite dishes for dinner, and although Jackie enjoyed them too, something felt off about eating food that hadn’t been cooked for her.
She headed for the stairs.
“Wait. Jackie, please.” Jay stood from the table, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor beneath him. “Could we just—just talk for a minute?”
Jackie’s foot paused on the first carpeted step. Jay had driven her home about an hour ago without so much as saying a word, and now he was in the mood for a sibling chat?
“I said I’d call Eugene at 5:00.” Jackie checked her phone for the time as she pivoted to face Jay, one foot glued to the first step. It was already 4:42. “Maybe later?”
Jay’s focus fell to the stack of papers in his hand, the cursive writing of the phrase Dear Stranger written across the top. Judging by the aged look of the pages, he must have been going through his old song lyrics from when he would create original music in middle school. It’d been years since he’d last done that.
Jay sat to reread the front page, slumping forward so drastically Jackie could hardly see his face.
She continued up the stairs. Okay then.
The first object she noticed upon entering her bedroom was the desk leaned against the wall. A neon purple glow illuminated from the LED lights behind her PC, the keyboard, and even the logo of her favorite lavender headset. She flicked her bedroom lights on with the intent to dull both the mesmerizing illumination of her desk as well as her temptation to sit there. She had to get rid of her soaked clothes first.
After changing into a pair of black sweatpants and a gray PE shirt from eighth grade, she entered the bathroom across the hall to wash off the makeup that had now smeared onto her cheeks. It wasn’t the best for her skin to leave makeup on during her runs, but it wasn’t something she worried about. It wasn’t like she wore as much as some of the other girls at school—that stuff was practically on in piles.
Jackie raised her chin to face the mirror in her dimly-lit bathroom. She yanked the violet scrunchie from her ponytail and parted her damp raven-black hair off to the side. Frowning at her reflection, she thought back on how much time she’d spent choosing outfits in middle school. By the time she reached ninth grade she’d stopped putting an effort into her appearance because she wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Not even herself.
Jackie busted through her bedroom door and flicked the lights off, filling her room with a sacred purple haze. Now for the best part of the day.
She hopped onto the gaming chair and pulled her knees up to her chin. “Hey Siri.” Phone in hand, Jackie hugged her legs with one arm, pressing her free palm against the desk to give her chair a spin. “Call Eugenie.”
“Calling…Eugenie,” the robotic woman replied.
The chair slowed to a stop in front of the computer screen as the phone vibrated softly in her hand. She kicked her feet off the chair and clicked the speaker button, the ring intensifying. After setting her phone onto the desk, Jackie shook the life out of her mouse to wake the PC and typed her password at a racing speed.
“Hey! If it isn’t JackieLantern. What’s with the call?”
“You gonna start with that every afternoon?”
“Absolutely.”
Jackie double-tapped Mystery Bullets, and EugenieGenie popped up immediately. “Ready for a round?” she asked.
“Well, I just finished a dumb bio assignment, so I guess I’m down.”
“You’ve been waiting.”
A pause. “Have not.”
Jackie shook her head as she opened Discord. “Let’s switch over?”
Eugene hung up without a response, and a Discord voice call appeared on her screen. Jackie lifted the weighted lavender headphones from their stand, slipped them over her ears, and accepted the call.
Eugene’s voice was crisper now. “What mode are we playing?” It almost sounded like he was right next to her.
“Bro, what mode do you think?” She hovered over the first three options, the cursor landing on Challenge.
“Should’ve known.” Eugene gave an exaggerated sigh as their screens landed together at the starting location.
Jackie had been friends with Eugene for nearly four years now. They’d met on a Fortnite game—you know—back when people thought Fortnite was cool. They gamed together daily, using the time to catch up on each other’s personal lives. All she knew about his family was that they’d moved to Florida when he was three and that he’d been attending online school since fifth grade. Other than the fact that he lived in a subpar school district, she wasn’t sure why he no longer went to a brick-and-mortar school—as he liked to call them—but he seemed to enjoy learning from home, so she didn’t question it.
“How’s the run time?” Eugene said as he customized his default inventory pack—she could tell by the violent taps of his keyboard through her headphones. Setting up inventory was the only part of the game he didn’t suck at, but Jackie wouldn’t be the one to tell him.
“Let’s just say it’s worse than your aim in COD.” She hovered between a few new starter packs before clicking her usual one, too lazy to deal with testing new keyboard combinations. “But in my defense, it was pouring today.”
“Sounds like you’re not trying hard enough.” The opening countdown came to an end, forcing Eugene to start with his weapons half-customized. A subtle whimper escaped from his lips.
“Yeah, whatever dude.” Jackie got in position for battle, her right hand on the mouse and her left stretched over the most common keys in Mystery Bullets. “Like you exercise.”
“You haven’t seen my abs?”
Jackie stifled a laugh. She wasn’t sure whether Eugene did have abs or not—she’d never even seen his face before—but the joke was funny either way.
“So, anything interesting happen at school today?”
“Surprisingly.” Jackie thought back to the announcement Mr. Berkshire had made this morning. “Two kids went missing over the weekend.”
“Weird. You know them?”
“Obviously not.”
“Right, obviously.” He chuckled. “So I’m guessing that means you still haven’t made any friends.”
“Don’t have to.”
“Jackie,” he said in a mothering tone.
“I’m serious. I already have a best friend.”
“Well,” Eugene said, “I hate to break it to you for the millionth time, but I definitely don’t count as a real best friend.” He darted to the top of a hill, a dumb move that left him in plain sight, an easy target for anyone spawning on the other side. “Hey, there’s a group approaching from down there. You have good ammo?”
Jackie rolled her eyes. “I’m good.” Of course the group would approach them if he peeked over the hill like that!
“Look, I’m online schooled, so I can tell you from first-hand experience that there’s a big difference between internet friends and real-life friends. I told you about Kevin, right?” He continued anyway as Jackie approached his avatar on the hilltop. “He was so snarky in our virtual classes that our teachers had to permanently mute him. Somehow we started a streak on Snapchat and I thought he was the coolest dude. Then we all get together for this field trip at some stupid aquarium and turns out he’s the most annoying kid I’ve ever met. He smeared peanut butter on the back of my shirt thinking it’d be a funny prank. Who the hell does that?”
Jackie peered over the top of the hill and switched to a heavier weapon. Two against four—this wouldn’t be easy. “So you’re saying we’d hate each other in person.”
“All I’m saying is that online friends and real-life friends are completely different. They have to stay separate. If someone—grab it!”
A limited item appeared to her right. Jackie tapped the keys fast enough to retrieve it before it could disappear. Unlimited ammo for thirty seconds. Just what they needed.
“Yes!” Eugene continued where he’d left off. “But like I was saying, they have to stay separate. If someone were to ask me who my best friend is, you know who I’d say? Nolan. Nolan Russo, the kid I met at the Twenty One Pilots concert. I don’t say Jackie Mendoza, the girl I met playing Fortnite Battle Royale.”
“Well you don’t have to put it so harshly.”
“Just being honest. Maybe it’s time you make some new friends.” He tossed a few power-ups to her, and they hovered over the computer-generated grass. “The world doesn’t revolve around the internet. We have the sun for a reason.”
“How poetic.” Jackie threw the power-ups back, ignoring his support. He was always like this, asking if she’d talked to anyone at school recently or if she’d considered joining that high school community service club Jay was in. No, she hadn’t talked to anyone—and no, she wasn’t joining.
“I just don’t get why you do this to yourself. I find it hard to believe you’re avoiding people just cause. It’s like you’re scared to put yourself out there, and I don’t know why.”
You try living with a perfect older brother.
The other group rushed up the hill, and soon Jackie and Eugene were talking about nothing but the game.
“Faster!” His shout was so loud it distorted through her headphones.
Jackie cringed. “I’m trying here.” She aimed at the closest player in the group ahead of her, ready to shoot, but before she tapped the final key, a new window popped over the game. Eugene groaned with the disappointing hum of the GAME OVER screen.
“Why didn’t you shoot?”
Jackie leaned over her desk. The pop-up was navy blue with the title CAPSULE written across the top in a simple, bold font—the same name of the app she’d deleted from her phone in class earlier. A smaller string of text appeared beneath the title. TIME IS AN ILLUSION. When she hovered the cursor over the window, the pop-up disappeared, revealing the GAME OVER screen of Mystery Bullets.
“What the hell? We were so close.” Eugene’s keyboard clicked again as he finished customizing his default inventory. “Hey JackieLantern, you there?”
Jackie grabbed her phone from the desk, unlocked it, and swiped to the final page of her home screen. There—right next to Clash of Clans—was Capsule. She was positive she’d deleted it earlier this morning in Mr. Berkshire’s class.
“Yeah, I’m here,” she said softly. “Have you heard of Capsule before?”
“Is it a game?”
“Not sure.” Jackie frowned as she tapped the icon. “What about an app randomly downloading itself onto your phone? Has that ever happened to you?”
PLAYER, WELCOME TO CAPSULE. The white text overlapped the dark blue screen—the same shade of blue as the computer pop-up. The font was the only defining design feature so far. It sprung across the page in the style of an old generated text adventure game.
“Nah. Like I said, Apple’s a complete scam. You should make the switch to Android.” The sound of the Mystery Bullets menu screen chimed again. “I’m starting another round.”
A block of text faded onto Jackie’s phone. PETER MOON. MALE. HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR. AGE 17.
Jackie nearly dropped her phone. Peter Moon? As in, the-boy-who-sat-right-next-to-her-first-period Peter Moon? The-boy-who-went-missing-on-Friday Peter Moon? Was it really a coincidence?
To the right was a second block. KATHABELLE PIKE. FEMALE. HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE. AGE 16.
Kathabelle. Jackie gulped, making the connection. Kat.
THE SUBJECTS ABOVE ARE IN DANGER. COMPLETE THE LEVELS IN TIME TO WIN THE GAME, ERASE THE MEMORIES, AND REVERSE THE DAY. READY FOR A CHALLENGE?
A bold button slid upward from the bottom of the screen. START THE COUNTDOWN.
No, this couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Dude, I gotta go.” Jackie dropped her phone onto the desk and exited from Mystery Bullets, leaving Eugene without a teammate.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just gotta take care of something. Let’s talk later?”
“Hey, watch it.” Jackie lifted the headphones from her ears, Eugene’s voice fading. “I know a later from Jackie means never.”
She held the headphones close to her mouth, muttering into the mic. “Fine. Tomorrow then.” After hanging the headphones onto their stand, she ended the call and closed every window on her PC.
Whatever this app was, it wasn’t a modern game. She snatched her phone from the desk, leaned against the backrest of her gaming chair, and pulled the screen to her nose. The app had no graphics. Nothing but text and lines. The strangest mystery was how it had possibly downloaded itself onto her phone in the first place. And that pop-up on her computer—how did it get there?
She exited to the home screen, held a finger over Capsule’s icon, and tapped Remove App for the second time.
Jackie blinked. She’d tapped to remove the app, but Capsule stood with pride.
“Hey Siri.”
“Good evening!”
“Is my phone hacked?”
A familiar ding. “Interesting question.”
Yeah. Jackie narrowed her eyes at the screen. Interesting.
She pressed her thumb onto the Capsule icon to delete the cursed app once again. This time, it disappeared.
A quick swipe to the right, then back. There it was again.
Jackie viewed her settings to find that Capsule took up no storage on her phone. It wasn’t even on the list of applications. After another unsuccessful attempt to delete it, she resorted to Google Chrome. Surely other people had experienced this. Perhaps it was a glitch with the new IOS update. Jackie searched for iPhone installing apps without permission and unable to delete app from iPhone. Both scenarios had occurred before, but they never seemed to occur at the same time. Perhaps she could be more specific. Unable to delete app I never installed on my iPhone.
Nothing matched.
Jackie Googled the phrase that had popped onto her PC during the game earlier. TIME IS AN ILLUSION. She found various articles studying the idea that time never flowed linearly. Apparently the quote was by Albert Einstein, who believed time was relative and flexible. In other words, all she’d managed to find online was philosophical trash.
The only logical answer was that she’d been hacked. She did use the same email for her Apple ID and her Microsoft account, so that would explain the crossover of Capsule on both devices.
That’s what I get for not installing antivirus.
As her PC downloaded a free security software, Jackie updated the iCloud password on her phone. Although she tried to distract herself by wondering where the app had come from, she couldn’t ignore the fact that it mentioned Peter’s and Kat’s names. Capsule mirrored an outdated game, but Peter and Kat were real, and considering how they’d gone missing three days ago, the claim that they were in danger wasn’t hard to believe. What if whoever was behind their disappearances was also behind Capsule?
Jackie’s head jolted to the window in a rush of paranoia, goosebumps flooding her arms. She stood from her chair, leaving it spinning softly behind her as she approached the glass and tested the window’s lock. It was secure.
Okay, Jackie. She paced around the room, an act Eugene claimed to always help him through stressful situations. Think.
It was hopeless. She’d run out of information to work with, and only one place could offer her answers.
Jackie tapped the app. Her thumb hovered over START THE COUNTDOWN.