Game Over (15 page)

RICK WAS IN
the hospital when he heard the battle begin. He was locked in one of the secure rooms, a windowless cell. He was sitting on the edge of his cot, his hands held out in front of him as if he were begging. His eyes were lifted. He was gazing up into the rafters. He felt a new power pulsing through him . . .

They had locked him up in here after he'd come back from his near disaster in the Realm's seemingly eternal night—after Mars and the guards had arrested his father. Rick had been furious when they'd marched his dad away. He had threatened to rip Mars's head off. He had tried to do it too. It had taken the enormous Juliet Seven plus another guard to hold him back, to haul him out of the Portal Room, muscle him down the hall, and shove him through the door into here. He fought them every step of the way, shouting at Mars, calling Mars names, demanding Mars release his father, demanding he be allowed to see where his father was, to make sure he was safe . . .

Juliet Seven forced Rick through the secure room door
and shut it in his face. Rick heard the electronic bolt buzz into place, locking him in. He pounded on the door with his fists and went on shouting. He tried to kick the door open. He tried to pry it open with his fingernails. He shouted some more.

After a long while, the bolt was thrown back. The door opened. Miss Ferris walked in. She was carrying a stun gun, holding it up beside her head—in the safe position but ready to fire. The walking cement block that was Juliet Seven was right behind her.

“If you attack me, I'm going to have to knock you out,” Miss Ferris said, her voice so flat she could have been reciting her grocery list.

Rick stood in the center of the room and glared at her. He wasn't going to attack her. She was half his size and a woman. But he wasn't afraid of her stun gun or Juliet Seven either. He felt angry enough to walk right through them both.

“Where's my dad?” he said.

“He's in another secure room. He's handcuffed to the bed, but he's not hurt. Mars is holding him on suspicion of treason.”

“Mars is crazy. That's garbage. You know it's garbage. Mars has lost it.”

Miss Ferris didn't answer. Rick couldn't be sure, but he suspected the strange little robotic woman agreed with him. Something in her eyes gave it away. It was nearly impossible to know, but it did seem there was something
a bit more gentle and sympathetic in her voice when she spoke next.

“Right now,” she said, “what we need is more information. We need to do some more tests on your brain.”

“Forget it,” said Rick.

“We need to know what just happened in there.”

“It was dark. Black. There was nothing.”

“Then where's Kurodar?” said Miss Ferris. “What's he planning? How did he get into Mars' computer?”

Rick was beginning to suspect the truth, but he wasn't going to tell it to Miss Ferris or to anyone until he'd had a chance to discuss it with his father. He just shook his head. “How should I know?”

“What did you see when you went into the Realm?” she asked him.

“I told you: Nothing. There's nothing in there anymore. It's just that blackness, that weird empty space that feels alive . . .”

Miss Ferris nodded once. “Then how did you get out?” she said. “If there was nothing—no portal—no passageway—how did you get back to RL?”

Rick didn't answer. The memory was only just beginning to return to him.

“Kurodar hasn't disappeared,” Miss Ferris went on. “In fact, he seems to be reaching out somehow into RL. Someone killed the guard in the watchtower. Someone overrode the lock on Mars' computer. Something is wrong here, Rick; something is going on that we don't understand . . .”

“Well, it's not my father's fault,” Rick said. “And Mars knows it too. He just doesn't like him, that's all. He's just looking for an excuse to get at him.”

Miss Ferris blinked—which maybe indicated she was feeling some emotion or other. How could you tell? She lowered the stun gun to her side. Rick was glad. He didn't like being threatened, especially by the people on his own team.

All the while, Juliet Seven stood behind her, smiling. Rick thought he looked like he was hoping for a chance to tear him apart.

“Rick, you need to tell me something,” Miss Ferris said. “Do you think it's possible that Kurodar is somehow . . . using your mind . . . that somehow while you were in the Realm, a connection was formed between the two of you?”

Again, Rick remained silent. That was exactly what he was afraid of.

Miss Ferris said, “Well . . . we can't let you out of here until we know more.”

With that, she turned and left the room. Juliet Seven lingered just long enough to give Rick another of his smiles. Then he left too. When they were gone, Rick sat down on the edge of the bed. He put his head in his hands.

He thought about the blackness. Falling through the blackness. How
had
he gotten out? There was nothing to take hold of in there. No weapon. No portal point. Just that living blackness of Kurodar's imagination. How had he broken back into RL?

You won't go into your dreams alone . . .

He remembered his mother's words—and then he remembered everything.

It wasn't buried all that deep, not really. He remembered it all now: his terror . . . his spirit reaching out beyond the nothingness . . . his spirit calling across the darkness in a wordless prayer . . .

Rick lifted his head from his hands. He held his hands where they were, cupped in front of him as if he were begging. He lifted his eyes to the rafters.

That was the moment when Rick's faith finally came back to him, came back fully, came back strong. He had lost that faith when he lost faith in his father, when he lost faith in himself because the legs that had always carried him to victory on the football field were crushed and useless. But now he knew the truth. His father had never deserted him. The Traveler had had to make an impossible choice, an awful sacrifice, but it was a sacrifice made in love. Love was what the Traveler was all about. Because love was what his God was all about. And his God . . .

God had never abandoned Rick either.

Rick knew that now, knew it certainly, knew it in that way you know things when you don't need words for them anymore. He had never been abandoned. He had never been alone. And as for his legs . . .

His legs were not what they once were. They would never be what they were, never that reliable, never that strong, never again. He would never be the football
player he'd wanted to be, the athlete he had dreamed of being. Never—and it hurt him in a way he could not have explained to anyone. To have his dream destroyed, to have his body compromised, it was a raging pain in his heart, even now, even still.

But now that he had seen the darkness of the Realm, the living emptiness of Kurodar's heart, now that he had been plunged into that blackness and come back alive, he knew the truth.

It was not his legs—it was never his legs—that had carried him to victory on the football field. Everything he needed for victory was still there, unbroken, untouched.

For the first time since that truck had hit him, Rick felt himself let go of his anger and his grief. For the first time in his whole hotheaded life, he was flooded with stillness and calm. He felt it flow up out of the core of him and through his limbs and into his mind like a golden liquid carrying a mighty power. For the first time in his life, he understood the source of his father's serenity. That Spirit that had answered his spirit in the darkness . . . That light of love no darkness could comprehend. That God of victory. His God.

Rick would never be the mighty Number 12 again. And it hurt. It would go on hurting for a long time. But the hurt didn't matter to him anymore. He could shake it off like a hard tackle. He was strong again, strong as the boy he once had been. Stronger. Strong as the man he needed to be.

Just then—that's when the noise of battle reached him. From outside, in the compound. Soldiers shouting. Gunfire. And then . . . squealing . . . shrieking . . . monstrous noises that Rick recognized at once . . . the war cries of the dead creatures of the Golden City . . .

Rick realized what was happening right away. Kurodar was invading the compound through the Realm. Through
him
. Through the portal that had somehow opened in his mind when he came through the Breach.

Rick got off the bed and went to the door. He tried the handle again. Rattled it. The door stayed locked.

The portal
, he thought.

He remembered the darkness ripping open in the Realm.

The portal goes two ways
.

He sent out another prayer—another wordless prayer that came from deep in his spirit. He focused on the door. On the lock inside the door.

Please
, he thought. He knew he could not do this alone. The human soul alone is a place of darkness. He needed the power of that light.

Please.

He went on focusing on the lock inside the door. Using the power of the Realm inside him. Bringing his whole spirit to bear on the computerized mechanism that set the lock in place.

Please . . .

Suddenly, with a little inner jolt, he felt the logic of the
lock's machinery come into him. Its codes and numbers were spoken into his mind in a high-speed voice that he understood without understanding.

He moved the numbers with his mind.

There was a buzz as the bolt miraculously drew back.

Rick pushed the door with a sort of experimental gesture—and yes, it swung open! He expected to find a guard on the other side. But all the guards were gone. They had run outside to join the fight.

Grimacing at the pain that flashed through his legs, Rick ran after them.

21. BATTLEFIELD

MEANWHILE, THE BOAR
Soldier rushed at Molly, sword upraised. The edge of the blade was already descending as she willed herself to move. She spun to the side with athletic grace, turning in a full circle as the sword whisked at her through the air. She came out of the 360 facing the Boar just as the metal whispered past her head and smashed into the metal roof of the truck's cab.

The Boar was stunned by the impact, metal on metal. With the sword down, his face was exposed to Molly. She had a chance to strike out at him. Even thinking fast, she was smart enough not to punch him. His skin looked as thick and rough as a log, as bristly as a porcupine. She was pretty sure she'd break her smallish hand if she tried a direct blow. Instead, she made a fist and brought the edge of it swinging around sidearm like a big hammer. The hammer-fist struck the Boar full speed smack in his naked nose.

It was a good blow. It hurt him. It hurt him plenty. Molly could tell by the way he squealed. The Boar staggered back. He tried to steady himself, to steady his sword,
to ready it for another strike at her. But he backed over something—a stone maybe or maybe just a spot of uneven ground. Whatever it was, the staggering Boar tripped over it and spilled backside-first to the dirt. As he hit the earth, he lost his grip on his weapon. The sword dropped with a dull clang.

On the instant, Molly rushed for it. She leapt over the Boar's thrashing pig feet, stooped down, and grabbed the sword's handle. The Boar went onto all fours, struggling to rise. Molly grabbed the sword off the ground and kept moving. The sword wasn't light. It weighed about ten pounds. But with all that adrenaline in her, Molly barely felt the weight of it.

The Boar got to his feet. Molly halted. She turned. The Boar rushed at her. Molly swung.

She braced her back foot on the forest floor and used her whole body to bring the big weapon around fast, like a baseball bat. Of course, it weighed about five times what a baseball bat weighs, but she was still able to get some speed into it.

Before the Boar could reach her, the edge of the blade connected with the side of his head. Molly grunted at the impact, but her grunt was drowned by the shriek of the creature. Molly squinted at the brightness of the purple bolts that went through him just before he disappeared with a last tremendous flash.

She let the point of the sword sink to the ground. She looked around her.

The battle at the compound gate continued. Harpies flew down on the harried soldiers. Boars rushed at them. And Cobras coiled up out of the earth and tried to strike at them. More soldiers had come running from the barracks to join the fight, but more and more monsters were materializing out of the earth and out of the air. The men and monsters battled back and forth at the entrance in the barbed-wire fence.

Molly knew she had to go, had to get out of here, had to get her father and Victor One to safety. She turned and took a step toward the truck.

But it was already too late.

Boars and Cobras were springing out of the ground all around her. Harpies appeared in midair and swept down on her.

In an instant she was surrounded by monsters.

22. LONE SOLDIER

MOLLY KNEW SHE
was done for. The fight with the Boar had left her at a distance from the truck. In a moment—before she could move or even think—two giant Cobras sprang into being, cutting her off from the truck's door. When she turned—wherever she turned—left or right—the Boars were standing before her with their swords upraised. And even as she stood there, frozen in fear and despair, a gray, shrieking Harpy was descending on her out of the sky.

Molly decided if she had to die, she would die fighting. In that final second before the creatures closed over her, it was the only thing she could think to do.

She managed to raise the sword in time to run the point into the center of the attacking Harpy. The she-creature shrieked and flashed and vanished—leaving Molly free to swing again, blocking the blow of an onrushing Boar.

But already her strength was failing. The sword was growing heavy and her arms were growing weak. The clash with the Boar sent her staggering backward. The Cobras seized the moment to slither toward her. The Boars rushed
at her. Another Harpy screamed and fell on her from the side.