Infinity by Sherrilyn Kenyon

“It’s not status quo. It’s the truth.”

 

 

“Whatever you say.” Caleb stepped up on the curb as they reached the Triple B. He moved ahead and opened the door to let Nick enter first.

 

“Store’s closed. There’s no classes to—” Mark’s voice broke off as he came out of the back room and saw them.

 

 

 

“Oh. It’s you guys. Come on in.”

 

Nick scowled at the strange welcome. “What’s going on?” Mark didn’t answer as he walked past them and went to the door they’d just entered through, locked it, then turned the closed sign around. “You won’t believe this.” He motioned for them to fol ow him into the back room.

 

Oh goody. He couldn’t wait. Whenever Mark uttered those words, it was always a doozie.

 

But the minute he entered the back, Nick pul ed up short.

 

Bubba and Madaug were sitting in front of the computer—oh, that little wanker. How could Madaug be here after not picking up the phone al day?

 

Nick wanted to choke him.

 

Madaug’s glasses were slightly askew on his nose as he tugged at his short hair while reading through the code on the screen.

 

“How did he get here?” Nick asked Mark.

 

Mark gave him a drol stare. “Walked.”

 

Nick scoffed at him. “Seriously. After al we’ve done to locate him today, when did he pop back in?”

 

“Couple of hours ago.” Mark stood opposite of Nick and Caleb.

 

Oblivious to them, Madaug pointed to a line of code. “See, Bubba. That’s what I was talking about. This algorithm was designed to subliminal y repress their anterior cingulate cortex while this one stimulated the orbital frontal cortex and amygdala, thereby raising their serotonin levels.” Nick scowled at Caleb, who, thankful y, looked as confused as he felt.

 

Bubba and Mark, however, seemed to be fluent in the geek speak that left him baffled.

 

“Yeah.” Bubba scratched at the stubble on his chin. “But I don’t see how that gave you control of the hypothalamus.”

 

“It doesn’t real y. Only the somatic nervous system should be affected with a smal byproduct of elevated stress in the hypothalamus that should have inhibited his aggressive behavior. What I can’t figure out is how I lost control. What did I miss, Bubba?”

 

Nick cleared his throat. “I can tel you what I’m missing. A clue. What are you people talking about?” Mark cut a sideways look to Nick. “Zombie Hunter.” Nick had to bite his tongue to not respond with no, duh.

 

“And that would be different from al the other discussions you guys have had how?”

 

Mark let out an aggravated breath. “Not kil ing zombies, Nick, playing them.”

 

Madaug turned toward Nick to answer. “I invented a video game cal ed Zombie Hunter. That’s what we’re working on.” Nick smiled. “Oh, that’s cool. Can I play?”

 

“No!” Mark, Bubba, and Madaug shouted al at once.

 

Bubba took a swig of his soda. “Trust us, Nick. This is one game you don’t want any part of.”

 

“Why?”

 

Madaug pinned a gimlet stare on him. “Because anyone who plays it gets turned into a zombie.” Oh yeah right … Nick didn’t believe that for one instant.

 

“Bul crap.”

 

“Nah, man, it’s true.” Bubba indicated Madaug with the can in his hand. “Your little friend here is quite bril iant.” Yeah, bril iant at getting shoved into lockers. …

 

Nick couldn’t understand how Madaug could be bright enough to figure out how to program a game, but not fly under the radar of the people who wanted to abuse him.

 

Madaug pushed his glasses up on his nose. “I learned that a specific sequence of light and sound can actual y alter brain waves and override them. See, the brain is like a computer and if you can bypass certain programming, you can hack in and change someone’s core hard drive.”

 

Nick had to give him credit, it sounded impressive. “How did you learn this stuff?”

 

“My mom’s a neurosurgeon at Tulane and my dad’s a research criminal neurologist. They have real y boring conversations at the dinner table and force me to listen to them while I eat my mom’s real y bad cooking. My dad’s doing a study right now on ways to inhibit violent behavior, which is what gave me the idea for the game. I took his notes, did some independent research, and then had Bubba teach me the core programming to build levels for the game that would alter their brain pattern.”

 

Caleb hit Nick in his good shoulder. “See what you can learn when you listen to your parents?” Nick scoffed. “That ain’t what my parents talk about.” But if anyone ever wanted to learn how to pole dance or gut a human being, Nick was the one to talk to.

 

That, however, was another topic and not helpful tonight at al … then again, the gutting might come in handy if more zombies came for him.

 

“So who has the game?” Nick asked Madaug.