CHAPTER 16
AN ISOLATED MAN
1
As soon as Bryson’s body disappeared, the horde froze and the hallway became silent once more. Michael and Sarah slowly got to their feet, careful not to make any sudden movements. Bryson was gone—he wouldn’t rejoin them on the Path—and the trauma of being there for what had just happened to him hung over Michael like a dark mist. He wanted to talk to Sarah about what Bryson had said, but he didn’t dare risk waking the undead.
He focused on the only thing he could: making it to that door. He prodded the code to see if he could find a way to mute their sounds—such a small thing but still almost impossible within the complexity of the firewall. But he was finally able to do it. Sarah noticed and nodded a thank-you.
Step by step, they moved toward their goal until they reached their final obstacle—the hill of bodies that had taken Bryson’s life. Michael hugged the wall, picking his way over arms and legs. It was nerve-racking despite their programmed silence, and sweat beaded on his forehead. He felt a scorching thirst, his mouth so dry it seemed full of dust.
Finally, Michael emerged on the far side of the still bodies with Sarah trailing close behind. They pressed on, trudging along as if they fought deep mud with every step.
And then the door—the beautiful door, Michael thought—was right in front of him. And just like the one through which they’d entered, it wasn’t locked. He opened it and stepped through, pulling Sarah behind him by the hand.
Before Michael could even get a sense of where they were, he slammed the door shut. It was then that he turned to face what new environment lay before him.
It was a thick forest of massive trees, mist hanging off the branches like moss. A path of well-trodden earth cut through it, inviting him and Sarah into its depths. And standing next to the beginning of the trail, under the boughs of a huge oak, was a pale man dressed in a red cloak, the hood pulled over his head.
“My, you’re a pair,” the stranger said.
2
For some reason Michael’s first reaction at hearing the words was to spin around and see if the door was still there. It was, set into a huge wall of gray granite. Closed tight. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it—going back to the hall of the undead was the last thing he’d ever want to do. But there was something sinister about this forest and the man who’d greeted them.
He turned back to face the man. Sure enough, he was still standing next to the oak, his hands folded in front of him. The red cloak shone in the dim light.
Michael took a better look at the stranger’s face. He was old but not ancient. Wrinkles lined his skin, but he had none of the frailty of someone in the last years of his life. He had thin lips, a narrow beak of a nose, and a pointy chin. And his eyes … they were blue, almost silver, so light they seemed to glow from within.
“Where are we?” Sarah asked the familiar question. “Who are you?”
The man’s voice was raspy. “You’re standing on the edge of Forest Mendenstone, a place of darkness and death. But you mustn’t fear, my young friends. Within the majestic walls of these pines and oaks lies a place of meditation where you’ll find food and shelter. And protection from the things that slay and rip.”
Michael had seen a lot of darkness and death—he certainly didn’t want any more of that. What he really wanted was food. His stomach growled, and he realized that he didn’t care if this guy was a serial killer. If he had food, Michael would follow him anywhere.
Sarah wasn’t quite so desperate. “What makes you think we’d trust you to take us anywhere? We’ve been on our own so far—why should we just go along with the first person waiting for us?”
“He has food,” Michael whispered, leaning closer to say it.
The stranger unfolded his hands, letting them rest at his sides. Nothing else on his body stirred, not even his cloak. “I am a man of peace. You can trust me, young ones. Come. Come with me and visit for a while.”
Michael almost laughed out loud, but again, he was starving.
“Okay,” he said. Sarah started to protest, but Michael held up a hand for her to stop—the scolding he’d get later would be worth it if he was able to eat. “But if you try anything weird, we’ll send you back to the Wake without a second thought.”
The man smiled, not a trace of fear in his glowing eyes. “Of course,” he said.
The stranger turned to walk down the trail that disappeared into the woods. As he took his first step, a furry creature scurried up the man’s back and planted itself on his shoulder. It looked like a ferret or a weasel. The creature stood upright with its ratty nose sniffing at the air.
“Look at that,” Michael whispered to Sarah.
He saw her eyes widen in surprise as she took in the man’s companion.
“Okay, that’s a little freaky,” she replied quietly. “Reason number three hundred why we can’t go with this guy.”
Logic had begun to seep in, overpowering his hunger, and Michael was beginning to agree with his friend. But at that moment the stranger turned and called back to them, ending the debate.
“You’ll never reach the next stage of the Path without me,” the man said. “No matter how much you hack away at the code, you’ll never reach the Hallowed Ravine.”
Then he continued on his way, vanishing into the gloom of the forest.
3
“Come on,” Michael said, grabbing Sarah by the arm as he started following their new friend.
She pulled free but walked along beside him. “It feels like we’re following a snake back to its lair. I bet this guy’s killed a hundred kids.”
They’d entered the woods, and the massive trees towered above them. They were thick with foliage and laden with long, wispy trails of moss. And they grew close to each other, with the trail cutting a neat line down their center. The magic of programming.
“He’s probably just a Tangent,” Michael said, craning his neck to take in their surroundings. The only light in the woods came from the trees themselves, their scarred trunks glowing an eerie blue. As they walked deeper into the forest, the branches and leaves stretched closer to the path, as if they wanted to snatch the newcomers away.
“Then why did you tell him we’d send him back to the Wake?” Sarah asked.
“It was something to say,” he answered. He didn’t really feel like talking.
The man kept a steady pace about twenty feet in front of them, his odd pet somehow keeping its perch on his shoulder. The air was cool, and everything smelled wet and earthy. It was almost pleasant, Michael thought, but a stench of rot tainted its edges. The only sounds were crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl.
“I guess we didn’t really have a choice,” Sarah murmured. “I can’t see another direction to go in the code.”
“You’re still debating this?” Michael responded.
“I’m just saying,” she answered with a shrug. They walked for a while in silence until she spoke again. “We need to talk about what Bryson said. It was like something had really clicked for him, but why did he freak out? What did he see in the code?”
Michael could play back every detail of his friend’s final moments in his mind. “It was such a strange thing to say. What if Kaine isn’t really a gamer? What does that mean?”
Sarah snickered. “All we’re doing is asking each other questions. We need answers.”
“Yeah.” Michael pushed aside a low-hanging branch. “It really bothered Bryson how complicated the code of the Path is. I can see why he couldn’t accept that Kaine was able to program it. Seems impossible.”
“So he thinks Kaine isn’t real?” Sarah asked. “Like he’s just a made-up name by a whole group of people doing all this?”
“Maybe,” Michael answered with a shrug. “Keep thinking about it. Look at the code every once in a while. We can figure this out.”
“Okay. Just … let’s be on our toes and stay sharp.”
“Let’s be on our toes?” he repeated, going heavy on the sarcasm. “Stay sharp? Really?”
“What?”
He let out a short laugh. “You sound like Sherlock Holmes. You gonna pull out a magnifying glass? A pipe, maybe?”
Sarah smiled. “You can thank me later when I save your life.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll keep my eyes peeled and my ears perked. What do I do with my nose?”
“Shut. Up.” She quickened her pace to get ahead of him.
Michael shot a glance at their guide—the man walked smoothly, the weasel on his shoulder swaying with every step but not losing its posture. Then Michael turned his attention to the forest on both sides of the trail.
The glowing trunks of the trees were thick and tall, rising toward the black sky above. The way they shone that pale light—and how it barely penetrated the darkness of the night—for some reason made him feel like he and Sarah were floating along in the forgotten depths of the ocean. It threw him off a bit, and he pulled in a few deep breaths to remind himself that he was walking out in the open air.
The trail rounded a tree even larger than most of those they’d seen so far, and as Michael passed it his gaze naturally took in what waited behind it. Just a few feet into the woods, a pair of bright yellow eyes stared back at him. He jumped, stumbled, then kept moving along the path backward, not daring to look away. Visions of the KillSims filled his head.
The eyes followed him, but their owner stayed put, and soon the path took a turn so that a group of trees blocked the sight of the animal. The creature. Monster. Whatever it had been.
Michael bumped into Sarah and finally turned around.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Sorry” was all he got out. He’d been spooked royally, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to reach the stranger’s home, even if he had to share it with the weasel-rat-ferret thing.
4
The forest stretched on and on.
Michael saw three more pairs of those yellow eyes, but just like the first set, the creatures didn’t move except to follow him with their gaze. But the same knife of fear cut through him each time, and he found himself walking faster and faster.
“Why such a hurry all of a sudden?” Sarah asked him as he spied the fourth animal.
“I keep seeing eyes out there,” he answered. He could hear the fear in his own voice. “Like a KillSim’s. But smaller, not quite the same.”
“Oh, so you figured you’d put me in between?”
“Yeah, something like that.” Michael grinned.
She was just about to turn to look for herself when the cloaked stranger stopped.
“The sight never ceases to moisten my face with tears,” the old man said.
His eyes had widened in what looked like rapture, and—true to his word—tears streaked his cheeks, glistening in the eerie glow of the forest trees. Michael turned to see what had captured his gaze.
Just up ahead along the path, the branches of two trees had been woven together into a tight coil, arching over the trail. Hanging from the center of the arch was a wooden sign with hand-painted yellow letters. They shone as if lit by neon:
MENDENSTONE SANCTUARY
MASTER SLAKE
PRESIDING OVERSEER
ALL ARE WELCOME
“Master Slake?” Michael questioned. “What are you a master of?”
The man turned sharply and nailed him with a hardened gaze. “I’m here to help you, boy. Show some respect or my …” His words faded and his eyes darted to Sarah, then back to Michael. “Never mind. Come and sup with me. My friends will have made us a pleasant meal. We can sit and rest our bones by the fire as we eat and drink. Then I’ll tell you how to reach the Hallowed Ravine. From here you’ll find that it’s all very simple. Very simple indeed.”
A dozen questions flickered through Michael’s mind, but the man resumed walking, heading for the archway. Michael gave Sarah a wary glance, but they both followed. At least the man answered questions.
5
The forest didn’t quite end at the hanging sign, but the clearing that opened up in front of them after they passed under it had only scattered trees instead of the densely packed trunks of the woods. A bright moon shone down from above, casting long, narrow shadows. A hundred feet or so ahead stretched the Mendenstone Sanctuary, a long, low building. It was made entirely of wood, and every part appeared crooked or about to topple over. A huge welcome sign hung above what Michael guessed was the front door, which stood wide open, revealing darkness lit only by the flickering of a fire.
Michael expected the man to say something like “Home, sweet home,” but he remained silent, heading for that backlit doorway. Michael hurried to catch up to him. He felt slightly more at ease, though maybe it was just his hunger finally winning out over judgment.
“You mentioned your friends,” Sarah said to the man. “How many people live here? Are you guys monks or what?”
The weasel perched on Slake’s shoulder sniffed the air as the man let out an unsettling chuckle. “Monks? I guess you could call them monks.” He laughed again.
Michael shot Sarah a look. She wasn’t happy to be there, and her eyes said that whatever happened, it was all his fault.
He turned back to Slake. “What do you mean? Who are they?”
“You’re about to find out,” the man answered, then added happily, “Hope you’re hungry.”
That last word put Michael at the man’s disposal all over again. He was willing to do just about anything for some VirtNet food.
“Here we are,” Slake announced, stopping a few feet from the open door. Michael peered in and looked around, but he couldn’t make anything out. Just the flicker of shadows made by the fire.
But there were sounds. Of things scuttling across wood. Pots and dishes banging and clinking together. Odd grunts and chittering noises that were decidedly not human.
Master Slake turned to face Michael and Sarah, his expression showing genuine concern. “Please don’t be afraid. They are my friends.”
And with that he stepped into the sanctuary.
6
Michael and Sarah both hesitated, waiting for the other to go first. Finally, Sarah reached over and pushed on the back of Michael’s arm.
“After you,” she said with a grimace. She didn’t bother to hide her fear.
“You’re so gracious.”
“I know.”
Michael knew that something could happen at any minute. The Path was designed to keep them out of the Hallowed Ravine, not help them find it. But until they knew what they faced, there was no point in running or even looking at the code. They could only move forward.
He took a tentative step then stopped in the doorway, gripping the wood of the threshold as he gazed around at what was inside.
A long, low table reached from one end of a large room to the other. Plates and dishes full of scrumptious-looking food were laid out across its surface—as inviting a thing as he’d ever seen. But his attention was soon taken by the movement of bodies—and other than Master Slake, none of them were human.
A mangy dog—at least three feet tall at its back—ran across the floor right in front of Michael, a cup in its mouth. To Michael’s right, a huge black bear, bald spots covering its chest, was leaning over to pick up a tray of cupcakes from a serving window that led into a kitchen. A bear. With a tray. Of cupcakes. Michael had to remind himself that it was okay—anything was possible inside the VirtNet.
There was a tiger walking on its hind legs, holding a pitcher of something with its front paws. A goose flapping its wings as it used its beak to push dishes this way and that on the table to set them straight. There was a fox dragging a platter with an enormous Thanksgiving turkey on it. A lion with the handle of a breadbasket clutched between its huge incisors. A cat standing on the table, cutting up a chicken with a knife.
Oddly, one of the first thoughts that popped into Michael’s mind was why didn’t these animals mind cooking their friends? Though maybe geese and chickens weren’t on the same social level.
Sarah had stepped up behind Michael and leaned her face against the side of his arm as she took it all in. “You still hungry?” she asked.
“I think if I can get past that dog licking our plates, I’ll be fine.” He had a sudden urge to laugh. He’d been so scared of what they’d find at the sanctuary, and here they were inside a storybook for little kids. The animals only had to break into song as they worked and it would all be perfect.
Master Slake had taken a seat at the head of the table, where the large bear bent over to place a napkin in his lap. The man comically thanked the bear, and the creature went off to do some other chore.
“Sit,” Slake bellowed, like some king sitting down with his minions. “There’s more food here than you could ever eat. Even within the Sleep.”
Hunger won Michael’s obedience completely. Sarah tried to grab his arm but he slipped from her grip and went to sit down by Slake. As soon as he did, a squirrel pushed a plate full of steaming food in front of him. Its beady little eyes looked up at Michael briefly; then it scurried away.
Sarah joined them, sitting across from Michael, and gradually her face changed from disgust into something like desire. The smells were just too delicious, Michael thought.
“Please take my hands as we say grace to the spirits of our ancestors, man and beast.” Master Slake held out his hands, and his guests took them.
Slake closed his eyes. “To the ones who came before us,” he began. “We ask your presence to look upon us in favor this day. We ask for a blessing upon our food and drink. Two travelers have come to our humble sanctuary, where we serve the needs of those who enter the dark forest. Bless them, dear spirits. Bless them with strength and hope. That they may defeat the demons that beset them, that they may further journey along the Path. Amen.”
Slake released their hands, opened his eyes, and began to eat—he picked up a turkey leg and attacked it like a starving dog. Grease dripped down his chin, and a piece of meat hung from the corner of his mouth.
Michael had to look away. His thoughts were occupied with the words of the prayer, and he had to ask the obvious question.
“You said something about demons,” he said, picking at his food so he didn’t have to look at their host as he ate. “Was that just … normal prayer stuff?”
Slake chuckled. “Oh no, my boy. Certainly not. I sincerely meant every word said to our ancestors. I hope that you can kneel at their feet before the demons rip you apart.”
Michael almost choked on a piece of meat. He swallowed it down and cleared his throat. “Want to tell us more about these demons?”
“Oh, my son.” The man wiped his mouth with a sleeve. “They are the least of your worries. The outside world is beginning to learn something that you—both of you—have yet to realize. Even though I know you are both adept at code, surely as good as your friend … Bryson, I believe?”
The little hairs on Michael’s neck were rising.
Sarah had a fork squeezed tightly in her fist. “What are you talking about?” she asked in a threatening voice.
“Please,” Slake replied smoothly. “Let’s not get hostile. There’s no need. I’ve had enough of that in my life. Years of gaming can find you with many enemies. I was … quite good at it, you know. Until I somehow found my way here, onto this Path. I can’t seem to escape the damnable thing. I’ve accepted it now. I feel as if I have a new role to play. To help those like you. To convince you to leave—to find your way out when you can and never come back.”
Michael stared at the man, desperately curious now.
But Sarah spoke first. “Wait … you’re a gamer? Not just a Tangent?”
Slake gave her a long, almost sad look. “It’s a pity you can’t tell the difference yourself. Truly a pity. I was one of the best. Perhaps the best ever.”
Michael couldn’t help but close his eyes and scan the coding, as hard as it was to read. He analyzed the man sitting at their table, searched the programming for something, anything, that might give him a clue about what this guy could be talking about. He caught bits and pieces of the stranger’s history, fetched a couple of NewsBop stories, saw something odd in his digital nameplate. And then it hit Michael, and he snapped his eyes open again.
“What the …,” he whispered. “You’re Gunner Skale.” The revelation thrilled him and scared him at the same time. “What are you doing here? Why did you vanish from the VirtNet? From the public?”
Sarah was looking back and forth between them. “Are you serious?”
The older man yawned and scratched his head. “Busted, as it were. I know I must seem lowly compared to my glory days. But I’m content, I promise you. I believe I’ve met a higher calling. I’m human, Michael. Sarah. I’m human, playing in a nonhuman’s world. The program speaks for itself. Two people as smart as you should’ve figured things out long ago. The Path should’ve taught you.”
He paused, and the wheels spun inside Michael’s mind, like gears and cogs clicking into place.
“You should have seen it,” Skale continued. “You’ve been in Kaine’s presence. You’ve been in many a Tangent’s presence. You’ve been among other gamers, countless times. The difference in programming is ever so slight, but it’s there for the taking if you know where to look.” He paused. “I think your friend finally realized the truth, and it was too much for him to handle. He panicked and lost his way on the Path because of it.”
Michael finally had the answer, but it was Sarah who spoke first.
“Kaine’s not a man at all. A man couldn’t do what he’s doing. He’s a …”
Michael said it at the same time.
“Tangent.”