“What’s wrong?” Michael asked her, standing up himself.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe I was a little overconfident about our safety.”
Even as she said it, Michael heard one of the worst sounds he’d heard in his life.
3
It was unearthly, something between a high-pitched screech and a howl. A scream that was impossibly grating, discordant and harsh. He clamped his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. All he wanted was for it to stop.
For what had to be a full minute, the sound tore through his body. Then it ended.
Michael opened his eyes and tentatively lowered his hands. Sarah and Bryson were both pale, as if they might throw up. Even Ronika was no longer the picture of calmness she’d been earlier.
“What was that?” Bryson breathed.
“It’s not Kaine your Tracer picked up,” Ronika answered. “He sent … something else.”
A low rumbling noise started, which somehow seemed to come from everywhere at once, shaking the room around them, then passing into a long moment of silence. All four of them were frozen in place. Michael was embarrassed to admit it, but he was waiting for Ronika to tell them what to do.
The screech exploded through the air again, piercing and raw. Michael fell back on the couch, clamping his hands back over his ears. The noise cut off sooner than before, and he scrambled to his feet, no longer willing to rely on their host.
“Come on,” he said, pointing at the door Ronika had come through earlier. “Let’s get out of—”
Another eruption of the awful scream sliced off his words, but Bryson and Sarah got the point. They started moving toward the exit, but a sound like a breaking tree branch sent Michael stumbling. He turned to look just as a shadowy hand twice the size of a human’s crashed through the wall, sending huge pieces of wood flying through the air. Michael ducked to avoid the debris before he got a good look. The huge fingers lit up with a flash of yellowish light from within.
Michael hit the rug on his knees, arms curled over his head to protect himself. He heard the click-click-click of what had to be nails or claws scratching the wood on the other side of the wall, a few huffs of monstrous breath.
Ronika jumped into action. “Quick, follow me!”
Michael didn’t waste a second. Ronika started running toward the door, but something thumped against it from the other side, then thumped again. The door trembled in its frame. Ronika changed direction and suddenly fell to the floor in the corner of the room. Michael reached down to help her before he realized she was swinging a hidden panel away from the wall. She crawled into a long compartment, and he got down on his hands and knees and followed her into the darkness. Bryson and Sarah squeezed through the small opening behind him, pushing him against Ronika.
“Close it up,” she whispered. “Hurry.”
Bryson did as she said, pulling the hidden door back into position.
There was just enough room inside for them to shift until they sat, backs against the wall, four in a line. Michael’s head brushed the ceiling. Before any of them had a chance to speak, Ronika closed her eyes tightly and a screen appeared in the air, hovering above her lap before floating over to the wall in front of them. The screen showed the room from which they’d just escaped.
As Michael watched, something exploded out of the hole the strange hand had torn through the wall. A dark, wolfish shape with blurred features leaped past splintered wood and landed on the tile floor, yellow eyes gleaming in its gray head. Three more shadowy creatures jumped through the wall after it, and they each ran to a different corner of the room. The edges of the room were dim, and Michael watched with growing horror as the creatures seemed to vanish into the shadows, melding with the darkness until there was nothing but those two pinpoints of bright yellow light in each corner.
Since they didn’t have a Portal to Lift themselves back to the Wake, Michael had no idea what to do. What were those things out there? He’d never seen anything like them in the Sleep before. And why were they just waiting?
Ronika turned to face Michael and his friends, and they waited for her to speak. She’d said that Kaine had sent “something else” to the Black and Blue, so Michael hoped she knew what it was.
“Well?” Bryson finally said in a low whisper.
Ronika gave him a sharp look; then she answered the obvious but unspoken question.
“Those are KillSims. And we’re in some serious trouble.”
4
Michael had never heard of a KillSim before Tanya had used the term what now seemed like eons ago—but he knew enough that those two words together sent goose bumps across his arms. “What are they?”
“Kaine’s creation—stories have been surfacing recently.” Ronika looked at the screen. There was still no movement in the room, only dark shadows and yellow eyes. “They’re a version of antimatter for the VirtNet. Antiprogramming would be a more apt description. If they can bite you and latch on, they’ll literally suck the virtual life into some digital abyss that’s God knows where. You’d Lift back into your Coffin in the Wake and be ruined, have to start all over. It could even damage your brain in the real world, which might be what happened to some of those people you mentioned earlier.”
More chills for Michael. He flinched when a low growl came from the other side of the secret door, but there was no movement on the screen. The noise wasn’t like that of any kind of animal in the natural world. There was something staticky and digital about it. Michael braced himself, wondering if that awful screech would come next, but it didn’t happen.
“Why aren’t they attacking us?” Sarah whispered. “They have to know we came in here.”
“I’m not complaining,” Bryson murmured.
Ronika spoke so quietly that Michael had to lean in to hear her. “My guess is Kaine wanted to trap us. And now we’re cornered better than he even imagined. Maybe he’s coming himself, trying to break through my firewalls.”
“How do we fight those things off?” Bryson asked. “Do you know anything about them?”
The last word had barely come out of his mouth when the ear-piercing howl tore through the air again.
As soon as it stopped, Ronika answered. “I have no idea,” she said, her voice empty of any sense of hope.
The only thing left was for Michael to take charge. “Listen, Ronika, they’re obviously here for us. But we can’t sit here all day—we’re just waiting for Kaine to stroll right in, and he’ll find us eventually. You stay while we make a break for the door.”
“No,” she said. “I’m not leaving you until we’re all safe.”
Her protectiveness surprised him. “All right, but you know as well as we do, it can only get worse. Especially if Kaine shows up.”
“And how do you expect to fight those things off when they pounce on us?” Bryson asked.
“Don’t let them bite you,” Sarah answered.
Ronika pointed to the screen. “We just have to make it up those stairs outside the door. Somehow Kaine’s blocked me from contacting my security detail. But once we’re to the top and into the main section of the club, my bouncers will swarm and be too much even for the KillSims.”
“Okay. To the door, then,” Michael said. “And up the stairs. No problem.” But the truth was, terror raced through his body, making it hard for him to breathe.
“We need to stick together,” Sarah added. “Stay in a pack.”
Michael got onto his hands and knees, ready to crawl through the secret door. “Bryson, you’re closest, so you’ll have to go first.”
“Figures,” he replied.
Michael knew Bryson was kidding, but he was right. It shouldn’t be him at the front. Michael pushed his way past Sarah and then Bryson to get to the exit. “No—I got us into this mess,” he said. “I’ll go first.”
“But now if you die I’ll feel bad,” Bryson whined.
Michael liked that his friend was at least trying to keep his sense of humor. “You’ll just have to live with it.”
5
As soon as everyone was lined up behind Michael, he slowly pushed the small wood panel open. Something like candle glow filled the dimly lit room, making everything ethereal and warm. It felt peaceful, but Michael knew the truth: violence hid in every shadow.
He studied the wall directly ahead of them. He couldn’t make out any distinct shapes; aside from those yellow eyes, it was just shadow on top of shadow. Michael tried to focus to get a count of how many creatures there were, but an odd thing happened—the yellow eyes vanished when Michael looked directly at them. He turned his head and they came back into view in his peripheral vision. So far nothing had moved. Maybe they were waiting for Kaine to give further orders.
Michael kept his gaze averted and carefully inched forward, moving out of the hidden compartment, then edging along the wall, heading for the door. The rug under the furniture gave way to tile, which hurt Michael’s knees as he crawled. The digital growl started up again, and he saw a flash of yellow in the gaping hole the creatures had torn in the wall—only about twenty feet away. Michael stopped.
Bryson bumped into him. “Keep going!” he whispered, so loudly he might as well have said it in a normal voice.
Michael stole a glance at his friend. “They might attack if we move too fast.”
“They might kill us if we don’t!”
Silence settled on the room for a few seconds; then the growling began again. The rumbling static rolled through Michael’s body. It was impossible to tell where it was coming from. He sucked in a huge breath and started forward.
When the door was only ten feet away, Michael pulled himself up into a crouch, ready to make a run for it. Movement caught his eye to the right. He turned to look, and it was as if the darkness had melted and splashed onto the floor. Then it coalesced into the same wolf shape he’d seen earlier, yellow eyes blazing like pinpricks of fire. Michael looked directly into the glowing gaze and the eyes seemed to disappear; then a shattering scream erupted from the creature. Michael’s hands had barely flown up to cover his ears when the sound stopped, replaced by the strange growling, like an old-school computer buzzing its last moments of life.
He now had no doubt that what they’d guessed was correct. These things just wanted to guard them, make sure they didn’t leave. Kaine was coming.
And Michael didn’t plan on being there when he showed up.
6
Michael averted his gaze, and the creature’s eyes came back into focus; then he slowly stood from his crouch, sliding up against the wall behind him. On instinct, he put his hands out as if to pacify the beast, but he knew it meant nothing to the antiprogram.
“I’ll open the door,” he whispered to the others. “You guys run for it.” The words came out before he realized that the plan meant he’d be the last one to leave the room. And most likely the first to get attacked.
“Let’s do it,” Bryson replied.
Michael nodded. “Now.”
He ran to the door, reaching for the knob just as he noticed the KillSim’s head jerk back. Something told him Kaine was watching through those yellow eyes and was shocked to see that Michael and his friends weren’t waiting around, cowering in fear. Michael’s fingers curled around the cool metal of the handle and he twisted it, swung the door open just in time for Bryson to flash through the opening. Terrible piercing screams tore through the air, and a blur of movement caught the corner of Michael’s vision as Sarah ran through, then Ronika.