The Rule of Thoughts (26 page)

He and his friends ran across the wide lot, the surface under their feet beginning to heat up from the morning sun. “In
Lifeblood Deep
, there was a space toward the front—a private parking spot that opened up like a trapdoor. That
must be what Gabby was talking about.” He hoped they could find the right one.

Sarah already had her NetScreen lit up. It was hard to see in the sunlight, but visible enough. Gabby had said that once they got within the range of the thousands of signals that floated around the stadium, they’d be able to find the crack they needed to dive into. They’d gone over everything in the coffee shop as best they could.

“Man,” Sarah said. “This place is swarming. It makes our home signals look like cheap old radio stations. There’s more information flying around here than I’ve ever seen before. Even deep in the Sleep itself.”

Bryson clicked his tongue. “Well, there you go. We must be in the right place. Let me get linked up with you.”

The two of them worked at their screens, making Michael feel a little left out. He knew what they were doing. He’d noticed it on several occasions. They were worried about him, thought he was fragile. On edge, especially after the strange encounters during the last day or so. He couldn’t blame them for treading lightly with him. It was almost as if he were a newborn.

They stopped at the last—or first—row of parking spaces, closest to the hulking stadium itself. Michael looked around, took it all in. The structure loomed above them like a mountain of metal.

“This is where she said it’d be,” he said. “Northeast corner.”

Sarah sat on the curb, her eyes never leaving the faint glow of her NetScreen, and Bryson sat right next to her. Gabby had given them a few leads based on things she’d
learned on her frequent visits to see her dad. As his friends worked those leads, Michael stood in front of them, feeling dumber by the minute.

“Anything I can do?” he asked. “Last I remember, I was pretty smart when it came to things like this.”

Neither Bryson nor Sarah acted like they’d heard a word he said. He forced a laugh, but that didn’t work, either. Giving up, he clicked on his own NetScreen and started dinking around to see if he could find something they might have missed.

They’d all been working for about five minutes or so when Michael heard the strangest sound. A slow but constant … 
clopping
. He looked up just in time to see a horse come around the curve of the stadium a few hundred feet away, a police officer perched on the animal’s saddle. The horse’s shoes smacked against the sidewalk, an eerie, echoing noise that felt out of time and place with the hustle and bustle of the city.

Michael felt a little sting of alarm, even though the cop showed no interest in them. Yet. It was so strange. Human civilization had gotten so advanced that virtual reality was hardly distinguishable from real life and machines could hover in the air like alien spaceships. Yet some police evidently still walked around on horses, as if they were sheriffs looking for outlaws. He remembered the hovercop’s story about his great-great-something-or-other-grandpa.

“Guys,” Michael whispered. “We might want to pick up the pace. There’s a cop over there. On a horse.”

Bryson snickered at that but didn’t look up. Neither did
Sarah. They were working feverishly, which Michael hoped was a good sign.

“Just saying,” he murmured. He returned his attention to his own NetScreen, but he felt like anything he did would be a waste—his friends were already way ahead of him.

Two things happened, so close together that Michael couldn’t tell which was first. A loud clank sounded just as the parking lot trembled close to where they sat. Then a rectangular section nearby separated from the surface around it and started lowering into the ground, groaning sounds of machinery coming from below.

Thank you, Gabby
, Michael thought, hoping desperately he’d see her again to thank her in person.

The cop yelled something in the distance, and just as Michael looked over at him, the man started charging in on his horse. The sound of the horse’s metal shoes striking the asphalt reminded Michael of gunfire.

“Quick!” Sarah yelled, on her feet. “Now’s our chance!”

Michael was already on the move, getting there before either of his friends. He jumped down onto the descending section of asphalt and turned around, watching as the cop approached. Bryson and Sarah joined him; then they dropped down to their hands and knees and crawled toward the edge of the platform. They peeked down, trying to get a glimpse of where they were going. It was dark below—pitch-black—
but unless the VNS had tricked him with their re-creation in
Lifeblood Deep
, there was a second parking garage down there.

Michael got on his stomach and swung his legs over the side; then he held his breath and pushed off, landing just a few feet below on smooth concrete. He heard Sarah land nearby, and then Bryson landed on top of him. They scuffled until everyone got back to their feet. The light from above illuminated the garage well enough now to see that there was no sign of people.

The secret entrance halted with an echoing screech of metal that rang though the air, then immediately started moving up again. It had only come halfway down.

“Did you do that?” Michael asked Sarah.

Before she could answer, a man’s voice boomed at them from above. Michael turned to see the cop leering down.

“What the hell are you kids doing? Get back up here!” He pulled out a gun, but the horse shied away at the sound of groaning machinery. The cop worked at the reins to steady the animal. In a few seconds they’d be safe, cut off by the rising section of parking lot.

“Stop this thing!” the cop yelled. This time he
did
point the gun as best he could. “What’s going on? Are you …” His words faded and a look of recognition came over his face. He knew. He knew who they were.

The secret door slammed shut, plunging them into darkness.

Thank you, Gabby
, Michael thought one more time.

Sarah’s NetScreen flashed to life, casting its green glow over the dank garage in which they stood. Michael didn’t know what to say. Everything was a jumbled mess in his mind. But at least the place looked familiar.

“Why did the platform stop halfway down? Did you program that or something? You’d turned your screen off.”

He knew the answer before Sarah replied. “No. I couldn’t even tell if Gabby’s stuff was what made it open in the first place. I was working on it, but it might’ve just opened on its own.”

“Maybe someone
let
us in,” Bryson said. “And now we’re trapped.”

“Isn’t this what we wanted?” Sarah countered. “We’re in, aren’t we?”

Michael sighed. “Yeah, but I bet some beefy security guards are on the way. They could lock us up before we get within a hundred feet of Agent Weber.”

“Not to mention the dude on the horse,” Bryson added. “He’s probably calling every cop in the city. Do we have the worst luck on the planet or what? Just one lucky break. That’s all I ask.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “A cop on a freaking horse. You’ve gotta be kidding me. Seriously.”

Michael almost laughed, the final proof he needed that he was losing it. He had no idea what to say.

“Well,” Sarah said, “it’s not going to help if we sit here and wait. Come on. Let’s at least try to get inside—we can hide or something.”

“Ladies first,” Bryson offered, sweeping out an arm and bowing.

“Not the best time to test out being a gentleman. I’m happy to let
you
go first.”

Michael rolled his eyes and headed for the exit, a set of doors he remembered from his virtual visit to the place. Bryson and Sarah fell in line behind him.

Not so shockingly, the doors weren’t locked. Someone
had
let them in.

Bryson made an exaggerated exclamation of joy. “Hey, that lucky break I asked for!”

Sarah huffed. “I hope we get something a lot better than this.”

Michael swung open the door and stepped into a hallway dimly lit with distantly spaced emergency lights glowing along the ceiling. It was just like the
Lifeblood
version of itself.

“Do you remember the way to her office?” Sarah asked.

Michael shook his head. “No,” he said absently. He was thinking. In the middle of a workday, why wasn’t the place abuzz with life? The VNS should have been busier than ever now, what with everything Kaine was up to.

“Do we really want to keep going?” Bryson said. “This is obviously some kind of trap. And even if it isn’t, no one else is here, so why would that Weber lady be here? Maybe it’s company picnic day.”

“We’re not turning back now,” Michael said. “I don’t care if it’s a trap. I need to talk to her, and this is the only way it’s going to happen.”

Sarah shushed him, raising her hand as her brow creased in concentration. She was straining to hear something.

“What?” Bryson whispered.

Michael heard it. A faint, distant clicking sound. Growing louder, getting closer. More of a tapping. He suddenly knew exactly what it was.

“Footsteps,” he said. “Someone’s coming. And I’ve heard those shoes before.”

“What do we do?” Bryson asked. “Should we hide?” He tried a couple of nearby doors, but they were locked.

Michael crossed his arms and waited. “There’s no reason to hide.”

The footsteps grew to a crescendo just as a figure appeared around the corner up ahead: a tall, stylish woman in a skirt. Long hair flowing over her shoulders. It was too dark to see her face very well, but Michael had no doubt.

Agent Weber clickety-clacked her way down the hall until she stood right in front of Michael. He could see her eyes now, dark, unfriendly. She had them trained on him so fiercely it seemed as if she saw only him.

“Michael,” she said in a commanding voice. “Not exactly how I thought we’d meet up again, but I guess it will do.”

“I … We have to talk to you.” Michael’s words tumbled out. “About a lot of things. But why did you act like you didn’t know me before?”

She smiled, then turned and started walking away. She spoke to him over her shoulder.

“Come. I’ll explain everything, but we need to hurry.”