Seventeen

“You guys want to come in?” a voice says from behind. I jump and spin around.

Noah. My breath catches. It looks like him. Even more so now than he did before when I saw him in that prison hallway. His dark hair hangs over his forehead, freckles dot his nose (I didn’t notice that before), and eyes the color of the sky stare at me. Real Noah’s aren’t blue; they’re brown. But still, seeing this kid in front of me now makes me miss my brother even more. A deep ache sits in my stomach like a giant weight. If he had that scraggly-looking stuffy tucked under his arm, I’d be convinced it was really him.

“Where did you come from?” Seph asks. If my mouth would work right now I would’ve asked the same thing. “You do see a boy, right?” he whispers to me, but I’m too stunned to respond.

The sky darkens, a flash of lightning shoots off in the distance, and thunder rumbles the ground. “We should probably go inside,” the boy says instead of answering the question. “The storms here can be brutal.” As soon as he says it, the sky opens up and pelts me with rain.

I follow the others as they charge up the stairs to the hut, and the boy ushers us inside. From outside the place looked tiny, but now, stepping through the door, it’s vast. High ceilings, a glowing fire in the fireplace, and a table with a plate full of cookies and steaming teacups. Six of them already poured. Next to the table are three dark overstuffed chairs, and along the wall are rows and rows of books. Actual books. I’ve seen some before, like the one still tucked in my pocket, but never this many all in one place. Alongside them are tiny statues set on a black-and-white board.

Trip has already grabbed some tea and cookies and made his way over to the huge gray sofa that takes up most of the space, flopping down on it. “Now this is more like it.”

“Help yourself.” The boy gestures to what’s left.

Ruthie and Clara glance at each other before they sit on the couch with Trip. Seph stays by my side. Clara moans after she takes a bite of her cookie, and my mouth waters.

The kid gestures toward the plate. Even though I narrow my eyes at him, an unexpected calm falls over me, and any anxiety I had fades away. Maybe it’s this place, or how it smells like lavender and soap. The soft plush chair gives me a hug as I sit and let out a long breath. I hadn’t realized how tired I was until I stopped moving. My feet are glad to take the rest.

“Have all you want while I grab a few things.” He gestures to the snacks on the table next to me. Even though I’m not big on tea, I still empty the cup. It’s not too hot, with a hint of orange. It goes down smooth, easy, and warms me from the inside out. The hard cookie is better than I expect, too, with little pieces of fruit inside. It’s odd, but that sense of relaxation deepens. I pour myself another.

Seph drains his cup in three big gulps and collapses into one of the other chairs. “I should be weirded out, but I’m actually just super tired.”

I let out a yawn. “I know, right?”

Clara and Ruthie are cuddled together asleep, and Trip’s already snoring.

The boy comes back in the room, snags a cookie, and takes a huge bite, crumbs falling down the front of his shirt. Seph’s eyes are closed, a small puddle of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.

I lean forward. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,” the boy says.

“What is this place?”

He turns toward me and tilts his head. “Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

I can’t help but laugh, because it’s the same kind of thing my Noah would’ve said. “But why here? If this is a prison, what’s the purpose of a virtual reality world?”

“For some, having power isn’t enough. They want complete control.”

I’m not sure what he’s talking about. “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Mason.”

I take a long drink from my cup. This time it tastes more minty than orange. Then I stare at the clump of hair that hangs over his forehead. It really is funny. For someone who looks like he could be my younger brother, he acts a lot like my dad. Or maybe it’s that until this moment, I haven’t really had a chance to miss my dad, either. Ever since he lost his job… Wait. That’s right. Dad didn’t leave. That’s not what happened. He was released from his employer before he vanished. That’s why we moved. Not because he left us before. I stare at the kid who isn’t my brother. Blue eyes. Like Dad’s. He’s the one who taught me how to fix things, because he used to work for VolTon Industries. But what does that have to do with any of this? My chest tightens. I should be worried, anxious, and maybe it’s the tea, but those feelings don’t last and seem to float away.

A light flashes through the window, and Mason jumps before the thunder has a chance to sound. My heart constricts. Noah was always afraid of storms, too, and the boy who isn’t him is looking at me with the same scared eyes.

“Would you sit with me? I hate storms.” It’s the same lie I’d tell my brother. The one that would make him smile and lie in bed with me until he fell asleep. ‘I’m not a little kid,’ that’s what he’d say, but I knew better.

Mason gets up and nuzzles into my side. Everything is so familiar about how his small body curls into mine. The backs of my eyes burn, and I quickly blink the threatening tears away.

I stare at the fire, listen to it crackle. There are so many more things that I want to ask him. Questions I need answers to. But my eyelids are getting heavy, the chair’s so soft, so warm, and my mouth doesn’t seem to want to work anymore. Slowly, the room fades.

…

When my eyes open again, the room is flooded in light, the fire burned down to its last glowing embers. That was probably the best sleep I’ve ever gotten. Everyone else is still snoozing away. I can’t help but smile, looking at each of them. Mason’s no longer by my side but sitting in the chair to my left, a book perched in his hands. When he notices I’m awake, he sets it down on the table. It isn’t CalTes’s Founding Principles. Something older, probably from the shelf. The pages are yellowed, and the cover’s tattered. Gold lettering spells out Mind Mapping. I wonder what that’s about.

I stretch my arms over my head. “How long was I asleep?”

He waves off the question. “Time doesn’t work the same way here. As long as you’re feeling rested, that’s all that matters.”

There are so many things I want to ask him, but I don’t know where to start.

He points down the hall. “Bathroom’s that way if you need it.” Then he goes back to reading his book.

“Thanks. Thanks for everything,” I say before making my way down the hall.

After I splash warm water on my face, letting the griminess slide down the drain, I finally get the first good look at myself in months. The dark circles have faded, but my cheekbones stick out more, probably from the lack of decent food. While I look basically the same, aside from the strange makeup choices, I hardly recognize the girl standing there. She looks more mature somehow.

I don’t take too much time staring at myself. Instead, I indulge in a shower, letting the hot water sting my skin. After I’m done, I find something to hold my hair away from my face and off my neck. Even though I’m in the same grungy clothes, I feel like a completely new person. Like I’m ready to take on whatever lies ahead of us.

When I get back, everyone’s awake, snacking on more goodies that Mason brought out. My stomach growls, so I grab a few things from the table to munch on. “We should probably get going soon.”

Mason stands and gestures for me to take a seat, and when I don’t, he sits back down. “Leaving isn’t going to be easy.” He doesn’t say this like a threat, but still it makes me shudder.

I wrap my arms around my body. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mason rubs his hands together. The gesture reminds me so much of Dad. “It’s not like I’m going to stop you, but the program will.” What’s he talking about? My knees feel weak, so I have to sit. “This simulation is designed to keep you here. To make you not want to leave. Because in order to do it, you have to face your biggest fear.”

Clara grabs Ruthie’s hand. “Is that why you’re still here?”

“Something like that,” Mason says.

Seph glances around at everyone. “That won’t be so bad.” I’m glad he’s feeling optimistic about this. “We can help each other.”

Mason shakes his head. “It doesn’t work that way. You have to do it alone.”

That has my attention.

“Excuse me?” Trip sounds scared even though he’s trying to act tough with the hard look he’s throwing around.

“It’s complicated,” Mason says. “But even if you were all to walk out that door at the same time with the intention of getting out, the system picks up on your individual identifiers, and it’ll make you see whatever it wants you to see. I bet it’s already been happening. Have you ever been sure you saw something, but someone saw something else?” The spider/rat/snake dilemma pops into my head. Plus the hallways, and the door that seemingly disappeared. “That’s the program. With you all here together right now, it’s probably having a hard time analyzing all the data and mixing things up.” Like those weird creatures. “But once you leave this room, you’ll be separated. At first, it might feel okay, but the more determined you are to leave, the more determined it will be to keep you locked in this simulation. Or destroy you before you have the chance to leave.” His voice is so strong for someone his size. “Most importantly, you need to remember whatever you see out there isn’t real. This is all just virtual reality, but if you let your head believe it, there’ll be real consequences.”

I swallow hard. “Like if we believe we’re dying we could actually…”

He nods.

Ruthie leans forward, narrowing her eyes. “How do you know all this? How do we know you aren’t a figment of our imagination? Or that you’re lying to us. Maybe if we just stay here long enough, all of this will fade away, and you’re just trying to trick us to leave.”

“How the hell would staying get us out?” Trip asks, but Ruthie doesn’t answer.

Everyone is quiet for a few minutes. Maybe they’re thinking about what they’ll have to face. Being here already seems like my biggest fear come true—that I’ll never get to see the people I love again before I die—and if that’s what I have to face out there, death, I’m not sure I can do it. I wish I didn’t have to do it alone. It’s weird to think that a day ago that’s all I wanted, but now, I don’t know how I would’ve done it without them. Clara was the first person to see through my tough exterior—even if it did take her a while. Ruthie’s been the greatest devil’s advocate, always asking questions that make us think—even if she’s always wrong. Seph. Just thinking his name makes my heart thunder. I guess I might like him more than I want to let myself believe. He’s stayed by my side through everything, and that’s where I actually want him to be. And Trip. Sure there’s something suspicious about him, but in the jungle, he could’ve let Ruthie fall, and instead he pulled her up. He could’ve only thought about himself, but he didn’t. So even if he is a selfish ass most of the time, there’s something good inside him, too. Through everything we’ve been a team, and that’s how we’re leaving. It’s weird, but…I feel a strange sort of connection to all of them.

After more talk about our plans, and everyone has taken a minute to use the bathroom and get cleaned up, I stand staring at the front door with the others. Clara holds my hand on one side and Seph on the other. I don’t even care how sweaty mine are as I squeeze each of theirs.

Mason walks forward and stops next to the door. “We’ll all meet on the other side and leave together. Okay?”

I nod along with everyone else.

I take a deep breath, then one more last look at the people standing with me. I want to ask them if they’re as scared as I am, but I don’t. I try to push that feeling away, bury it deep, deep down. It won’t help to think about what I have to do. It’s time to go and do it. I just hope none of us die trying.