New Reality: Truth (10 page)

"I'm not excited about living off that shit either, but what other choice do we have?"

The same somber nod answered Jake. At least it was an affirmative response.

Walking over to the exposed machine, Tom a few paces behind, Jake heard his friend slip. When he turned around, he saw him standing on one leg. "Are you okay?"

Gritting his teeth, Tom frowned hard. "I think I've fucked my ankle up. I hate this fucking place. I hate Rixon. I hate that I can't be around my family."

"Come on, keep your chin up. Let's keep moving. We'll find Rory."

"Don't tell me to keep my chin up. I've been keeping my chin up for four fucking years now." His face had turned red. "How much longer do I have to hold it up for?"

"Let's just get our supplies and keep moving, yeah?" Picking his way over the terrain, Jake glanced at the gamer they'd turned over. The deep sore on her back was plugged with grit. Shuddering, Jake peered into the hole at the vending machine. A chill ran through his veins. "Shit!"

When Tom appeared next to him, Jake winced in anticipation of his friend's reaction.

"What the fuck? Where's all the fucking food and drink gone?"

Unable to find the appropriate words, Jake stared at the carcass of the vending machine.

Still red faced, but now shaking too, Tom threw his middle finger at the tower, his voice cracking as he shouted, "Fuck you, Rixon!"

Picking up a rock, Tom lobbed it in the direction of their corporate overlord. "Fuck you, you fucking arseholes! Fuck you!"

With his heart kicking and his weak legs trembling, Jake stared at the hole in the back of the machine. The metal was folded in as if a powerful punch had blown through it. With how the machine lay, that powerful punch would have had to have been from beneath it, from something underground.

Circumnavigating the hole, Tom strode towards the tower. "Fucking Rixon. Fucking arseholes!"

As long as he wasn't looking into the hole, Jake didn't care. Let him think Rixon did this to them. Looking down again, an icy chill running through him, Jake studied the scratch marks. They cut through the red metal to the steel beneath. It was as if clawed hands had reached up and scrabbled away as something pulled itself through. The memory of last night sent a shiver through him.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Having already stopped walking towards the tower, Tom jumped up and down. "You fucking fucks! Fuck!"

It was clear to see the hole was the entrance to a tunnel. Following the imagined path of it, Jake's eyes found the raised spine of disturbed rubble a few meters away. Scratching his head, he glanced at Tom, who was still preoccupied.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"

How could he tell him? The poor man would never sleep again if he knew what had happened in the night.

When Tom returned, Jake stepped away from the hole.

Seeing his friend's actions seconds before they happened, Jake jumped on him and pulled him back in time to watch his kick, aimed at the gamer's headset, catch nothing but air.

Exhaustion, a diet of mostly sugar, and aching legs made the struggle hard, but he managed to restrain his friend and pull him back a few paces.

"What are you doing, Tom? Do you want to get shot at?"

"They're fucking arseholes! They're fucking with us, so we give up." With wide eyes, Tom looked over at the tower again. "Well, you know what? I ain't ever giving up. I'm going to find my son and then I'm coming for them."

Ushering the tall man away, watching the ground to make sure neither of them fell, Jake managed to turn him around. "Come on, we need to get out of here. We need to find Rory."

As they walked off, Jake glanced behind again. They were now far enough away from Tom's grave. Looking at the fat gamer, Jake's palms started sweating in a delayed reaction to what Tom had nearly done. The last thing they needed was the Bots on top of them too.

From their current position, Jake was afforded a better perspective on the raised line of rubble. The path led from the vending machine all the way into the distance. The line returned in the direction of the sinkhole. Maybe the thing last night was just a scout. Maybe it had taken the food back to its friends and Jake happened to be in the way of the expedition. It could have simply been a coincidence. Wrong place, wrong time? Or maybe the vending machine was a bonus, and he and Tom were the true prizes. Maybe it had gone to tell its friends it had found them.

Jake snapped out of his daydream with a jolt when Tom stopped and said, "What are you looking at?"

"Um. Uh, nothing." He shook his head and drew a shaky breath. "Nothing."

Staring at his friend through narrowed eyes, Tom looked behind, a frown crushing his long face.

Imagining the things watching them, lurking beneath as they positioned themselves to strike, Jake tugged on Tom's sleeve. "Come on. Let's keep moving."

***

Why didn't they just bloody give up?

Why did she have to be the one to end it all?

Rubbing her tired eyes as she watched them walk away, she let out a deep sigh at the inevitability of their situation. She had to be the one to take responsibility--someone had to.

Popping the ring pull, the carbonated hiss revealing the freshness of the drink despite its dented exterior, she lifted it to her lips and tasted the sweet liquid.

Someone had to end it all.

Chapter Fifteen

Every step sent shooting pains up Jake's shins. When would his legs give way completely? Exhaustion had turned his jaw slack and sent his shoulders south as he plodded on.

Swallowing hard, his dry throat itched, the stirrings of a hacking cough crawling at the back of it. Looking up at the sky, Jake saw it had turned from gunmetal grey to black. Butterflies of anxiety shimmered in his stomach. At some point, they'd have to stop and rest. At some point, the cloak of night would envelop them again.

When he looked ahead at the haggard and wobbly Tom walking along the ridge of a deep crater, the rags he called clothes billowing out behind him, Jake could only assume he looked as bad. If anyone saw them from a distance, they'd probably believe they were seeing ghosts. Much longer of this existence, and that's exactly what they would be seeing.

Not only was every step setting fire to his lower legs, but every step demanded Jake's attention as the ground slipped and shifted. The concentration required to stay upright made it hard to keep looking for Rory. The loud roar of the wind added to his disorientation.

The silence between the pair had lasted for hours, so when Tom spoke, Jake latched onto it. "Why are there so many less gamers about?"

The memory of last night flooded Jake's mind.
Scratch.
He shuddered and then shook his head as if to dislodge the image of claws dragging fat bodies into the rubble. "I don't know, man. Maybe the lack of exercise and fattening diet is killing them off."

"Why now?"

Jake shrugged. "Maybe we've past the average life expectancy for gamers."

The crater next to them was so huge it could have concealed a shopping mall. Looking into it, Tom sighed. "Do you think Rory's gone?"

"No."

"No?"

"If I think Rory's gone, then why are we looking for him? If there's a chance, we have to keep moving. He's your son, Tom. We have to keep going."

"I will, but what's keeping you going, Jake?"

"I've already told you."

"Nature? Are you still trying to convince me that you're doing all of this to find a fucking tree?"

"I've told you, Tom, I didn't travel when I had the chance before all of this. We lived on such a beautiful planet, and it's taken the destruction of it to make me realize what I was taking for granted. I want to survive long enough to see change. I want to see the start of this world returning to its former beautiful glory. Besides," Jake pointed at the floor, "this is reality."

Scowling at the tower, Tom's sneer was visible regardless of the scarf covering half of his face. "I don't think it'll be that long before things start to change. Once all the gamers die, those arseholes will scuttle out of the towers and remake the world in their own image. It'll be paradise with so few people left, but it'll be built on the bones of humanity."

Jake shrugged and looked at the onyx phallus on the horizon. "Maybe. Or maybe there's no one in there other than a few operators. Either way, at some point, nature will fight back. I know it." Smiling at his friend, he dipped a nod at him. "Until then, it would be an honor to see my best friend reunited with his son."

"Best friend?"

"Come on, Tom. We've spent so long together now." The words stuck in his throat, but it wasn't because he didn't mean them. This could be their last few days together, and Tom needed to know how he felt. "I love you like a brother. You've kept me going, man."

"If you love me like a brother, then why don't you tell me about your past? About your family?"

Just thinking about his family weighed Jake down. "There's nothing to say about them, Tom. I'm closer to you than I ever was to them."

Tom looked away, his flimsy frame rocking in the wind. There was so little meat on his bones he looked like he'd snap if he fell hard enough. How close were they to his birthday? How was he going to die?

Clearing his throat, Jake's voice cracked. "You've been a rock for me, Tom. I wouldn't have found the strength to continue over the past few years if it wasn't for you and your family. Your desire has become my desire. I want to help you find Rory and get him out of New Reality."

Seeing his friend's eyes glaze, Jake continued, "You're a good man. You're kind, strong, compassionate. You're the best friend anyone could ask for."

After kicking a stone on the floor, Jake continued, "I know you won't talk about the things following us because of how scary they are. I get that. I know you want to protect me. I've heard you screaming at night, and I know you're trying to keep me from having the same nightmares."

Regarding his friend with his grey eyes, Tom then glanced behind them, scanning the wasteland like he had done since their encounter with the creatures. "You're right, you don't need to know."

"I love you, Tom."

Tom looked away and cleared his throat. "Right, you soppy bastard, let's keep going."

###

As the next few hours passed, the pair trudged on. Jake's confession of his platonic love for Tom had created an atmosphere. Although Tom was a loyal friend, and incredibly caring, discussing his emotions was a step too far for him. Walking a few paces ahead, he glanced behind frequently but avoided eye contact with Jake.

When Jake heard shifting rubble behind him, he spun around. With his mouth turning from dry to arid, he searched the thick dust clouds, his upper body tense. It was impossible to see anything.

Refusing to turn back again, Jake stood still and strained his ears over the howling wind.

Nothing.

No more shifting ground.

No line of raised rubble.

Any sniff of them being followed, and he was confessing everything to Tom about the night before.

It seemed that Tom was oblivious to the sound behind, the gap between the two having increased for Jake's momentary pause. Quickening his pace, Jake caught up with his friend. Desperate to break the tension between them, he tapped Tom on the back, still unsure as to what he'd say to him.

Tom spun around with a deep frown on his face.

Trying to catch his breath, Jake said, "Um ... do you think Rixon control the air we breathe?"

Just the mention of their corporate overlord was enough to wind Tom tight. "I think they control everything. I think they could turn us off like a light in an instant."

"Then why haven't they? Surely if they control the air, all they'd need to do is shut it off, and we wouldn't be a problem to them anymore."

The frown remained on Tom's face. "Maybe we're not a problem. Maybe we're entertainment. Besides, if they shut the air off, it would also kill the gamers."

"And they give a fuck about them?"

"How many times do you want to have this conversation, Jake? I don't think they want to murder them."

Jake shook his head. "I don't think they control everything." Looking around, he opened his arms wide. "What if we just happen to be in the armpit of the world?"

"Birmingham's always been the armpit of the world. What's your point?"

Checking behind again, Jake said, "I bet there are trees and forests somewhere. I like to think the rainforests are still intact. The waterfalls are still falling. The glaciers still splitting and shifting."

Tom scoffed.

"But what if I'm right? What if they don't have a grip on everything? What if it's just Birmingham?"

Throwing his hands up, Tom shrugged. "Well, if you are right, I hope you find them after we've found Rory."

Jake raised his eyebrows. "Me? Don't you mean us? All of us will find them."

"If Rory's as fucked as all of the other gamers, which I'm sure he is, then I'll need to stay with him until he's better."

A pain tore through Jake's heart as he felt his dream slipping from his grasp. What an idiot. Of course Rory would need rehabilitation. Why didn't he think about that sooner?

The panic passed. If the headstone was anything to go by, then Tom wasn't long for this earth, so there was no point in getting het up about a future that probably wouldn't exist. Time and dates meant very little now, but if he were to guess, Jake was pretty sure Tom's birthday wasn't far away. They'd be lucky to have found Rory by then. "You're right, Tom. It will be quite a rehabilitation." It felt like an empty promise, but he made it anyway. "I'll stay with you guys and do everything I can to help."

A watery glaze covered Tom's eyes as he searched Jake's face. "Are you sure?"

The image of the headstone filled Jake's mind's eye again. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nodded.

Reaching out, Tom rested his hand on Jake's shoulder. After glancing behind, he looked into Jake's eyes again, a hint of the brilliant blue of his irises returning. "Thank you."

***

It would be appropriate to feel sorry for Tom, but she didn't. As she watched him, she suddenly became aware of her twisting face. The sight in front of her left a bad taste in her mouth. Clinging onto Jake, Tom clearly hoped he'd stay with him on his pointless mission.