He ran until he could barely catch his breath, through neighborhoods and empty streets, until he reached the outskirts of the city. When at last it seemed he might collapse from exhaustion, he stopped. Bending over, he pulled air into his lungs, willing his heart to slow down. He wasn’t sure what he’d been running from: the police, Kaine, or the truth about what he’d brought down on Sarah and her family.
Night had swamped the world now, but he couldn’t imagine sleeping ever again. The threat of dreaming—seeing images of Sarah’s parents tied up in the back of some car, the spray of blood on the kitchen floor—terrified him. How much blood had he seen in his many years of gaming? None of it had prepared him for the real thing.
He found a cab, made it back to his hotel. Then thought better of it and changed hotels. Just in case Kaine had figured out his fake identity, Michael decided to start all over. And this time, he tried harder. He dug deep, pulling programs down behind him and picking apart others to cover his tracks. Firewalls and triple-protection Hider codes, anything and everything he could think of.
It took him all night. He finally fell asleep when the first rays of dawn glowed behind the curtains. Later, sometime in the afternoon, a knock at the door woke him up. Inexplicably thinking that somehow Sarah had found him already, he bolted from the bed and ripped open the door before even taking a look through the peephole.
Stunned, sure he was still dreaming, he stared at his visitor.
Dark skin, dark hair, pretty.
“You never should’ve called me Gabriela,” she said. “That’s when I knew something was wrong. Very wrong.”
Michael had been through a lot, but he was pretty sure he’d never been quite as speechless as he was at that second. As he stared at Gabriela, his mouth literally dropped open.
“Just let me in,” she said, her face stern but not unkind. “I have no idea what’s going on, but I think I deserve some answers.”
“Um, yeah,” Michael replied. Dazed, he stepped back and pulled the door open wider. “I guess I can’t run away this time. It’s my hotel room, after all.”
She smiled, but her eyes revealed the truth: she hadn’t liked that stunt in the city too much. “Thanks.” She stepped inside and took a seat on the little couch next to the kitchenette, leaning back and crossing her legs like she owned the place.
Michael looked away, into the hall, as if something out there would give him a hint on how to proceed. Nothing but ugly patterned carpet and drab walls awaited, so he closed the door and turned to face his new nemesis: his girlfriend.
He grabbed a chair and dragged it over, the long scrape of wood against linoleum cutting into the awkward silence. He took a seat and waited. Gabriela still hadn’t said anything. He put his hands in his lap and stared at them. He felt like he was ten, about to receive a punishment from his mother.
“Well?” she finally prodded. “Go ahead. Talk. You know how to do that, right?”
Michael looked up at her. “There’s no way I could possibly explain to you what’s going on. Trust me. Even if I did, you’d never believe it.”
“All I know is that you have never, not once, called me Gabriela. Until I finally tracked you down in the city.” She leaned forward, something like pleading in her expression. “It’s always been Gabby. And you were acting totally normal the last time I saw you, all Mr. I love you, Gabby; kiss me, Gabby; stay one more hour, Gabby. Now it’s like you don’t even know me. I can see it. You’re not looking at me. You’re looking at a stranger.”
Michael shrugged. “That’s one hundred percent true.”
“Then explain it to me! What’s going on? I know you too well to think this is some ploy to break up with me. Did you get hit in the head?”
A laugh burst from Michael’s chest, and he had no idea why. He rubbed his face with both hands, took a deep breath, and looked Gabriela in the eye. “Listen. I’m not … Oh man. This is crazy. I can’t do this.”
“You can. Or I’ll call the cops.”
“The cops? Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I saw on the NewsBops that you’re a cyber-terrorist?”
This time Michael started laughing and couldn’t stop. He was going certifiably insane.
“Not funny,” Gabriela said coolly. “Not even remotely.” Michael composed himself. “I know. I know. Look, something’s happened that if I explain it, it’ll sound crazy. It deals with the Sleep, and Tangents, and artificial intelligence, and all kinds of mucked-up stuff.”