Eighteen

Mason slides the door open, and instead of looking out into a lush jungle, it’s pitch black. Like a void of nothingness. Dark. Eerie. Unforgiving. At first, I don’t move. No one does.

Trip clears his throat. “Well let’s get this over with.” He only glances back at us for a second before he bolts off into the abyss. I’m not sure what I expect when he does this, a splash, a ripple, something. Anything. But nothing happens. He’s just gone.

“I don’t think I can.” Ruthie sounds scared.

“I promise I’ll be on the other side, waiting.” Clara bends down and presses her lips to Ruthie’s. Looks like Seph and I weren’t the only ones finding comfort in our partners when we got split up. “You can do this.”

With a sharp nod, Ruthie runs into the darkness. Clara gives me a quick hug before she follows her. Then there’s three of us left. Seph squeezes my hand, and before I can wish him luck he passes through the door and is gone.

“You ready?” Mason asks.

I nod, but I keep my feet planted firmly on the ground. My knees tremble, and a bead of sweat creeps down my spine. I will see them all again. The only way out is in.

“I’m scared. Could you maybe hold my hand?” Mason reaches toward me.

Like Noah and the thunder, my heart swells as I take his hand in mine, and we walk through the door together. Once I break the surface, everything around me spins. My insides twirl around, too, like I’m the wheel rotating around an axis. Mason is gone, and I’m alone in darkness. My stomach convulses, and I clench my eyes shut.

With a hard thud I touch down, but it takes me a second before my eyes open again, and for my surroundings to come into focus. Neon blue lights run up and down the walls in glass tubes. Scaffolding stretches out and branches off down long corridors. It’s almost as though I’ve been shrunken down and am standing inside a computer. This doesn’t seem so bad. It’s actually pretty cool. Except that’s what Mason said. That it might not be horrible at first.

I pick a path and start moving. Getting out of here can’t happen soon enough. But this place seems endless. I have no idea where I’m going, or if it’s even the right direction. A chill races up my spine, sending the hair on my arms to stand on end. The longer I wander the more stressed out I feel. There are moments where the walls seem to move in, or the ground sways. I have to remind myself it’s my head playing tricks on me, which helps some, but the longer I’m here the more it happens.

The walkway I’m on branches off, and as I peer around the corner, Dad’s there. My chest constricts. Everything about him is so familiar. His light hair, the dimple in his chin. There’s a much younger me standing with him at a workbench. A WALTER lying down in front of us. All of her components are open and exposed, tools and wires spread out around her.

“But I thought they already had their own programming,” younger me says.

“They do so no single person can have control over all WALTERs. But this. This will allow her to make her own decisions.” His face is open, bright with excitement. “Now they’ll be just like us. Able to think and feel like you and me.”

“Like when I skinned my knee? Or when Mom hugs me tight?”

He smiles. “Exactly.” The soldering gun in his hand is steady as he works. “That’s why she’s turned off while we do this. We don’t want to hurt her.”

I nod, my ponytail bouncing.

“Now it’s your turn.” He holds the gun for me to take.

My little face brightens like his as I carefully pluck it from his hand and finish the job he’s started, Dad guiding me each step of the way.

Before I have a chance to process, the scene in front of me changes. Dad’s still there, but I’m gone, and now there’s a man there with his back to me.

Dad’s face contorts in anger. “You can’t do this. You know it’s wrong.” Then there are WALTERs surrounding him and they drag Dad away.

“No!” I scream.

The other man spins around like he’s staring right at me. My stomach drops. Fredrick Tripton. Trip’s dad. Locked memories come flooding in—him sitting at the table with us having dinner, Dad and him, and a slew of design sketches laid out in front of them, discussing new projects. Because Dad was his idea man. His lead engineer. He came up with the design to give WALTERs a consciousness. To think and feel like any human. How could I have forgotten that? He’s the reason I know so much about them. The reason VolTon became so successful, and Fredrick could buy out his old partner. He and Dad used to be friends. Anger bubbles inside me, and I’m about to charge at Fredrick when he vanishes.

I shake my head, confused. If I’m not supposed to confront these images, how am I supposed to get out of here? Just when I’m about to lose hope, I catch a whiff of Seph’s oaky scent. At least, I think it’s him. What the hell is he doing here? Using my nose as my guide, I swing around a corner and down another long hallway. Then he’s there, lying on his side, tucked up and hidden under a long metal beam.

“Seph!” I yell, but I’m frozen. From this angle his body looks twisted, distorted, crumpled like a piece of paper. His leg wrenched back in the most unnatural position. I’m not sure if it’s real, because when I try to focus, his body contorts even more.

I want to scream, but my throat constricts. I’m almost too afraid to touch him. Worried I’ll do something wrong. Scared I’ll make the picture in my mind true. But that’s irrational. I was supposed to do this alone.

I yank his leg from under the metal bar, and a spider scurries out. Followed by another, and another. As I drag him away, they begin to attack, crawling all over him, covering every inch. Thousands of them.

I scream. Seph weighs more than a ton of scrap metal, but I refuse to leave him. Even when the spiders start to cover my hands and then my arms. Shaking them off is useless. They’re glued to me, turning my skin into something moving, alive.

Now I understand why Seph feels so heavy; my legs are heavy, too. I stumble and fall. The disgusting little critters use it to their advantage and begin to cover my face. When I open my mouth to scream again, they crawl inside and tickle my throat. I’m going to die. I. Am. Going. To. Die. There are too many. I can’t get away. Coughing does nothing to get them to leave. They’re determined to cover every inch of me, too, both inside and out.

“Lezah,” Mason calls. He seems so far away, or maybe there’re spiders in my ears, blocking out the sound. But he isn’t supposed to be here, either. “It isn’t real. The spiders are supposed to remind you, not hurt you. You have to remember.”

But they are real. I know it. I’ve seen them before. Before I came into this weird place. If they aren’t real, how would that be possible?

“The spiders are your creation. I made you see them so you could get your memories back. You have to believe me,” he says, like he can hear my thoughts.

I have no idea what he’s talking about. All that’s running through my mind is that if I die in here, I die in real life. That’s what he told me. And I don’t want to die. Not here. Not with spiders crawling down my throat. I need to see my family again. I need to see Seph. And Clara, and the others. I’m not going to die like this. I focus on that thought. On me being able to stand up and shake all of these disgusting arachnids off me. In my mind, I watch them fall to the ground, then I squish them with my heel, listening to the satisfying crunch that comes with it.

Maybe it’s working, or maybe the spiders can read my thoughts like Mason can, but soon it feels as though they’re retreating. Scurrying away as quickly as they came. When I open my eyes, Mason’s there, kneeling next to me, smiling, and Seph’s gone.

“I knew you could do it,” Mason says.

“Where’s—” But I stop myself. Seph was never hurt. That was part of the simulation. “How are you here?”

“There’s no time to explain.” He loops a wire around my waist. “Let’s go.” He hits a button on a belt he’s wearing, and I go soaring through the air, the tension on whatever’s holding us increasing and picking up speed. My stomach rolls like when I first came into this place, so I close my eyes and brace myself for what’s to come.

Like before, it takes a minute for my stomach to settle and my eyes to flutter open. I’m in the spot Mason said to meet in. A large open field with a door that looks out of place. Except there isn’t a door. Or Seph, or Clara, or Ruthie, or Trip. Where are they? Panic starts to settle in my bones and pulses through my body. I dig my nails into the dirt and whip my head around, looking for any sign of them.

The only person here is Mason, standing no farther than a foot away, with a knife in his hand, dripping with blood.