‘That was impossible.’ Hope’s voice was shaky. She was still holding onto Zyra.
‘Yeah, well, it happened, didn’t it?’ Zyra did her best to keep her voice steady. ‘You can let go of me now.’
‘It shouldn’t have happened,’ said Hope, releasing Zyra, and holstering her pistol. ‘That thing shouldn’t have been able to see us.’
‘So you keep saying.’ Zyra stared at Hope. ‘I thinkthat unicorn was looking at us, too. I think you’re wrong. I think some people and creatures can see us.’ Hope looked away and gazed around at theirsurroundings. ‘Where are we?’
‘No idea!’ Zyra also looked around.
They were standing in mud. It was a flat, featureless landscape, with sodden ground as far as the eye could see. The sky was dark and brooding with storm clouds blocking out the sun. In the dim light, Zyra and Hope saw twisted masses of barbed wire. An icy wind blew across the desolate terrain, making them shiver despite their warm clothing.
‘What were you thinking when we jumped?’ asked
Hope.
‘Nothing,’ said Zyra, trudging off to examine the nearest coil of barbed wire. ‘I wasn’t thinking of any place. I was just scared. I thought we were about to die.’ She pushed at the wire with a booted foot.
‘So we’re nowhere?’ Hope slowly turned 360 degrees, carefully surveying the landscape. A bitter wind howled past. ‘Some sort of war zone?’
‘No-man’s-land!’ Zyra cried, looking up fromthe wire. ‘The unoccupied area of ground between enemy trenches during a war.’
She caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye and spun around.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Hope.
‘Not sure,’ answered Zyra, eyes searching the terrain. All was still. ‘I thought I saw something.’ She took a few steps and then spotted a shape lying in the mud. A rifle. Eyes lighting up, she moved to get it.
‘Where are you going?’ demanded Hope. ‘Don’t go too far. We don’t want to get separated.’
Moving quickly, Zyra bent down to scoop up the rifle. But all she got was a handful of mud. She tried again, but her fingers were unable to grasp it.
‘Damn!’
When Zyra straightened up, she again saw movement. Was the ground moving? No! It was a soldier. Covered in muck from head to toe, he crawled slowly across the desolate battlefield towards her. Reaching out a camouflaged hand, he grasped the rifle and continued, blending in with his surrounds. Zyra blinked in disbelief When she looked back, she could no longer locate the soldier.
‘We’re in the middle of something,’ called Zyra.
‘No kidding,’ said Hope.
‘I just saw a gamer.’
A distant rumble interrupted them. Hope looked towards Zyra. ‘Thunder?’
A high-pitched, whining, whistling sound filled themr.
‘I don’t think so,’ yelled Zyra.
A patch of ground a couple of hundred metres from them erupted in a massive explosion. Both girls ducked as dirt rained down on them.
‘I don’t like this place,’ complained Hope, still cowenng.
‘Me neither,’ agreed Zyra, standing and trying to brush mud from her coat. She looked in the direction of the explosion and thought she could see mangled bodies. She shuddered and turned back towards Hope. ‘Well, let’s not stay here.’
Another rumble filled the air, closer this time, and the whistling sound started again. They looked up to see something streaking through the sky towards them.
‘Run!’ yelled Zyra.
They sprinted as the ground between them erupted, the force of the explosion propelling them through the air.
Zyra hit the ground, face down.
Hope landed on her side, dazed. Before she had time to recover, hands appeared from a concealed trench, grasped her and pulled her down.
Zyra sat up, coughing and spitting mud. She wiped the muck from her face as best she could and looked around. It was as before - an endless, featureless terrain, broken only by the occasional coil of barbed wire. She could discern no movement.
She called out. ‘Hope!’
There was no answer.
‘Hope!’
Zyra struggled to her feet, weighed down by her sodden clothing. Her precious coat was barely recognisable as red. She looked about, trying to spot Hope.
‘Hope!’ she called out again, an edge of panic toher voice.
Where could she be? Zyra’s mind raced through possibilities as she frantically scanned the surroundings. Was Hope tangled in barbed wire? she wondered. Swallowed up by the mud? Torn apart by the explosion? Dying? Already dead?
Zyra staggered back to where the shell had hit, her coat flapping about her legs, and examined the muddy crater. No sign of her friend. She stumbled on in the direction she thought Hope had been thrown, eyes scouring the ground as she went. Up ahead, she saw a person-sized depression in the ground. She crouched down to examine it closer. It looked like she had landed there and then ... rolled away. But where to?
Zyra stood up, stepped over the depression, and fell into a trench -face down in the muck, again. She howled with rage as she sat up, wiping her face and spitting dirt. Opening her eyes, she looked straight up the barrel of a rifle. A man in a grey uniform clutched the weapon. He had a voluminous coat wrapped around him and a gas mask over his face.
Zyra scrambled backwards until her back pressedagainst the trench’s damp wall.
‘Up!’ The soldier’s voice was muffled by the mask, giving it a slurred, inhuman sound.
Zyra scrambled to her feet, eyes darting about, looking for an escape route. To one side, the trench curved away concealing what lay further along. To the other side, the muddy walls seemed to stretch on forever behind the soldier. Above, the walls looked improbably high.
‘Move!’ The soldier nudged her with the end ofthe rifle.
Zyra grabbed the barrel and yanked. The soldier stumbled, releasing the rifle as he fell to his knees. Theatrically twirling the firearm around like a baton, Zyra quickly had it pointed at the soldier.
The man tilted his masked face up at her. Zyra found it unnerving being unable to see his eyes.
‘Takes ya mask off!’
The soldier got to his feet and unhurriedly took hold of the rifle’s barrel. With a display of amazing strength he swung both the rifle and Zyra around to the other side of the trench, slamming her into the wall.
Zyra gasped as the breath was knocked out of her. Overcoming the initial shock, she fired the rifle into the man’s chest.
He didn’t move. He kept hold of the rifle and continued to stare at her with his blank, masked face. Was there even a face behind that mask? wondered Zyra. She had a sudden vision of cold, featureless flesh, moulded to the shape of the gas mask.
She fired a second time.
The soldier swung her around again, throwing her into the opposite wall before yanking the rifle from her hands. Turning it around, he nudged her with the end of the barrel.
‘Move!’ he grunted.
Zyra had no option. She began edging her way along the curve of the trench. It twisted and turned, making it impossible to see what was beyond each bend. The soldier kept poking her in the back with the rifle and barking, ‘Move!’
Zyra wasn’t sure how long they walked. The walls curved one way and then the other and then back again in a featureless, endless tunnel of mud.
Finally, the trench widened out and around thebend was an oblong-shaped area, like a little muddy room, a ceiling of grey stormy clouds rolling past overhead. And in the centre, Hope was slumped in a chair, arms and legs bound tightly, her head hanging down, eyes closed. Beside her was a second chair, empty and waiting.
‘Sit!’ The soldier pointed to the chair with the rifle. Zyra stumbled over to the chair and sat down, looking across at Hope, relieved to see the rise and fall of her chest. She was alive. Zyra sat back, glad that she had not been left alone. She looked up at the soldier to see a red blaze behind the eye pieces of hismask.
‘Magik!’ Zyra’s surprise doubled when she felt movement at her hands and feet. Ropes were coiling themselves around her ankles and wrists. She struggled, but they tightened.
The soldier grunted and walked behind the chairs.
Zyra turned as far as she could, frantically trying to keep him in view. He strode over to a door in the far wall that Zyra had not noticed. It was dark and wooden and old, set directly into the mud. It couldn’t possibly lead anywhere. The soldier yanked the door open and disappeared into the blackness beyond.
The moment the door closed Zyra looked back at
Hope.
‘Wake up,’ she hissed. ‘Hope! Wake up!’
Hope didn’t stir. Zyra stared at her, looking for signs of life. Was she breathing? Had she imagined the movement of her chest earlier? Was she dead?
‘She is not dead.’ The cold voice spoke from behind her.
Zyra twisted her head to see a man closing the door. He was tall, with a long face and skinny, skeletal fingers. He wore a grey uniform, like the soldier, but his was neater and better fitting, tailored for him rather than off the rack. The jacket had a high collar with a little gold insignia that Zyra couldn’t make out. There were stripes on the epaulettes, signifying rank, although she didn’t know what rank. And pinned to the front of the jacket were several medals. Despite the bitter cold, he did not wear a coat.
The man slowly circled Zyra and Hope, his ridiculously clean shoes making a clicking sound with each step, even though he was walking on mud.
‘You are worried for your friend with the hopefulname?’ He spoke in clipped, measured tones, as if each word was an effort to pronounce. ‘This is excellent.’
He stopped in front of Zyra. ‘She is unharmed. Sheis but sleeping. If you wish her to remain unharmed, you will answer my questions. You understand?’
Zyra nodded.
‘Superb.’
Zyra stared at the man, studying every contour of his face, every element of his uniform. Who was he? Why was it she could interact with him? Was he some sort of Outer?
‘My perception is unclouded,’ said the officer.
‘Huh?’
‘Most entities are unable to perceive you,’ he explained. ‘You do not partake in the game, so the perception of you has been clouded. But my ability to perceive is beyond most others.’ He paused. ‘Now, keeping your friend in mind, it is time for you to answer my questions. What are you doing here?’
For a moment, Zyra was tempted to answer ‘sittingin a chair’, but the officer’s cold stare dispelled that thought.
‘Nothing, really,’ said Zyra, trying to think of away to explain herself ‘We’re sort of just passing through. Travelling.’
‘Really? In a war zone?’ The officer’s face betrayed no emotion. ‘For what purpose do you travel?’
Zyra glanced at Hope.
‘Yes.’ The officer gave a single, slight nod. ‘Her life depends upon your answers.’
Zyra closed her eyes for a moment, deciding that she had better tell the truth. ‘We’re looking for someone.’
‘Outstanding! And who might that be?’
‘Well, not that it will mean anything to you, but we’re looking for the Ultimate Gamer.’
‘Ah. Now we reach the heart of the matter.’ Again,the single, slight nod. ‘How do you propose to find this Ultimate Gamer?’
‘I don’t know,’ Zyra admitted. ‘We got a note from him saying that he would find us.’
‘But he has not.’
‘No.’ Zyra lowered her head and her voice.
‘And yet you still ... hope.’
Zyra looked towards Hope, slumped in her chair.
‘Yes.’
‘Excellent. Hope makes for more determined garners. Thus, a more interesting game.’
‘Huh?’ Zyra looked back up at the officer.
‘What is it that you wish of him? This Ultimate
Gamer.’
‘Urn ... help?’
‘He will not give it.’ The officer shook his head. Zyra’s eyes lit up. ‘You know about the Ultimate
Gamer?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Do you know where he is?’
‘Oh yes.’ The officer smiled for the first time, albeit a strained, difficult smile that looked as if it might crack the dry, papery skin of his face. ‘He is here.’ He turned to Hope. ‘You may wake.’
Hope’s eyes snapped open and her head jerked up. ‘Zyra.’
‘Hope.’
‘We’ve found him,’ she gasped.
‘You are much mistaken,’ said the officer. ‘It is Iwho have found you.’
‘You mean you’re -’ began Zyra.
‘Indeed.’ He clicked his heels together and inclined his head. ‘He who you have been seeking.’
‘But -’ Zyra looked from the officer to Hope. ‘Are you sure?’
‘It’s got to be him,’ said Hope.
Zyra stared at the officer, eyes wide. Could this really be the Ultimate Gamer? And if so, why did he have them tied up in a wartime trench? Bemusement turned to annoyance.
‘So, what’s all this about then?’ demanded Zyra,struggling to loosen the ropes.
‘It is all but a game.’ The officer spread his arms and smiled as if he really meant it. ‘Have you not worked that out yet?’
‘We’re sick of games,’ spat Zyra, getting one hand free. ‘We want out.’ She pointed to the officer. ‘And you can help us.’
‘What makes you think that I would help you?’
‘Look out!’ called Hope.
Zyra twisted in her chair, looking one way and then the other. And then she followed Hope’s upturned, panicked gaze. Above the trench, the sky was filled with VIs, all converging on the trench. So many that they blocked out the clouds, making the sky look like a giant television screen tuned to a dead channel.
‘The game is not over yet!’ The officer laughed, high and staccato, sounding as if it was a painful thing to do. ‘Not by a long shot.’
He slowly raised a hand, snapped his fingers and their surroundings were gone.