CHAPTER 17
NIGHT ON THE COUCH
1
Skale went right back to his meal, leaving Michael and Sarah to contemplate the bombshell realization that the man they’d been chasing wasn’t human. Michael had already forgotten about the demons.
Kaine. A Tangent. It was impossible. Utterly impossible. How could a program have fooled the world—the VNS, even—into thinking it was a gamer? How could it have become self-aware? Could it be possible? A knot grew in his stomach as he thought about it. Had artificial intelligence taken such a leap? Or was someone controlling Kaine behind the scenes?
Then he remembered the voice.
Michael, you’re doing so well.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” Skale asked, pausing with a knife halfway to his mouth, a piece of meat on its tip. “I’d hate to offend my friends after all their hard work.”
“But—” Michael stopped himself.
He needed to think this out. Not only Kaine, but the man sitting in front of him. Skale had gone from being the most famous gamer in the VirtNet to a lost pawn within Kaine’s firewalls. And based on her silence and furrowed brow, Sarah felt the same way. Hunger still gnawed at Michael, so he dug in, taking a huge bite of bread, then starting in on the poor chicken. Once again he wondered why it had been baked in the oven while the other animals got to run around free.
Skale spooked him with his response. It was as if he could read Michael’s mind. “All my friends know that a day will come when it’s their time to serve as nourishment. They usually take it with honor, knowing they’ve lived a good life.”
For some reason that angered Michael. “You do realize that all of this isn’t real. Right?”
“Who knows the true definition of real?” Skale said evenly as he continued to eat. “When you’ve been trapped in one place in the Sleep this long, it’s all as real as anything else. Now eat.”
They did so in silence for a while. They’d need strength for whatever awaited them—which finally made Michael speak up again.
“So there are demons. Kaine’s a Tangent. Anything else we should know?” The sarcasm was thick.
Gunner Skale finished chewing, took a drink, then wiped his mouth on his sleeve again, leaving a smear of moisture across his red cloak. “You’ve already been given the information you need, if you’re willing to search for it. I hope your memory is strong, my son.”
“My son?”
“You have a nasty habit of repeating things I say, boy. I highly recommend you stop this practice.”
The tone of the man’s voice made Michael nod, suddenly humbled. The old man had some fire in him, that was for sure. But Michael didn’t know how Skale planned to back up his veiled threats—unless the animals would do whatever he commanded. Getting eaten by a bear didn’t sound very fun.
“Don’t you have anything else to tell us?” Sarah asked. She’d been so quiet.
Skale stood up and took off his cloak, then held it out. The bear growled, a rumbling sound that came from deep in its chest, as it came over, took the red fabric, folded it over its arm, then walked away. Michael was half disappointed it didn’t bow and speak in a British accent.
“Let’s move into the sitting room,” Skale said. “Rest our bones as I promised before.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. He simply walked toward a door on the far side of the room and left. Michael shot Sarah a glance, then downed a couple more bites and one last swig of water. They both got up and hurried after their host, and Michael was sure his friend was thinking the same thing he was: being left alone with all those circus animals seemed like a really bad idea.
2
“What do you two know about the Deep?” Skale asked after they’d settled down into oversize chairs facing a cozy, flickering fire nestled within a brick hearth.
Michael leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. “You mean Lifeblood Deep?”
“Lifeblood Deep,” the man repeated with a huff. “Is that really the only program you think has been escalated to such status?”
Michael didn’t know what the man meant.
“To Deep status?” Sarah asked.
Skale nodded, never shifting his gaze from the fire. Michael could see the dancing flames reflected in his eyes. “Yes, what else? The Deep has been around since the beginning of the VirtNet, and only a few programs have reached its level. Lifeblood is the only one that’s public, and barely deserves the name.”
“What else is there?” Michael asked.
“That’s for you to discover in your own time. But one of them is the Hallowed Ravine.” Skale stood and walked to the fireplace, stirred up the flames with an iron poker. “It’s a program created by Kaine, hidden within the Deep. The Path connects it to the upper layers of the VirtNet. You’re lucky to have made it this far, luckier still if you make it all the way.” He stopped and turned to look at Michael and Sarah. “Let me ask you, haven’t you wondered how such a path could be created? One that the great and powerful VNS needs you to lead them to?”
Michael wanted to know everything, but he had no idea what to even ask. “So … why are you telling us this? All you’re giving us is riddles and clues that don’t help.”
“No clues, boy!” the man half shouted. He came back and sat in his chair. “I’m just talking to pass the hours until the demons come out. But maybe I’m tired. It might do us all some good to sleep.”
“When do the demons come out?” Sarah asked, as if asking the time.
Skale stood up, once again gazing into the fire as if hypnotized. “They come when they are ready to rip and slay. Good night, now. The bear will show you to your beds.” He took one last, longing look into the flames, then turned and walked away, disappearing through a wooden door that closed behind him.
As tired as Michael was, sleep still seemed like the last thing he could manage. “He said those words again.”
“What?” Sarah asked.
“Rip and slay. Didn’t this guy ever learn about bedtime stories?” Maybe the bear will give us one that’s a little more chipper, Michael thought glumly.
3
Despite Skale saying he’d be shown to his bed, Michael was led to a rickety couch. It was hard and uncomfortable and squeaked every time he moved, but it was better than the floor. He pulled a scratchy woolen blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes. A candle burned on a desk nearby, and he could see its flickering glow even with his eyes closed.
The attack came all at once.
A brutal, splintering pain cut through the middle of his head so suddenly that he fell off the couch, clutching at his temples with both hands. A piercing sound filled his head, partnered with a blinding light, and he wailed in agony, sensed Sarah appearing by his side, grabbing his shoulders, shaking him, asking what was wrong. Michael thrashed, trying to make her let go, afraid of what he might do to her.
Images flashed across his mind’s eye. His mom and dad, their forms wavering until they vanished like a puff of smoke in the wind. Then Helga, her face screwed up in terror. She disappeared, too. Then Bryson, his eyes peering at Michael, full of hatred. Then he was gone.
The pain didn’t cease, and he knew if it got any worse he’d faint, possibly die. He tried to stand. He opened his eyes to see Sarah on the floor, looking up at him with a terrified expression on her face. The candle still burned, but now it seemed as bright as the sun, and Michael had to turn away. He stumbled, threw his arms out for balance—it felt as if up was down and down was up. As if the room was turning and at any moment he would be thrown to the wooden rafters crossing the ceiling.
The couch stretched out, kept stretching, getting longer and longer even though the room stayed the same size. Sarah’s head grew until her face was a horror from a fun house. The boards of the floor began to warp and twist, bending like they were made of rubber. And the sound of the horde pulling Bryson apart filled his head.
He pressed his hands over his ears, squeezing his head as if to hold it together. Somewhere in the back of his thoughts he saw the KillSims at the Black and Blue Club. They’d done this to him. They’d damaged his brain. The antiprograms had to have done something both inside and outside the Sleep.
The pain pounded and pounded, and the world around him grew stranger and stranger. Arms stretching through solid walls, beating hearts hovering in the air, a fountain of blood pooling up from the floor, a little girl in a rocking chair, a limp animal in her lap. And the agonized lament of the unseen tormented—
And then it all stopped.
The room fell silent and all returned to how it had been before the attack. And though only moments earlier it would have seemed impossible, the pain in his head had disappeared.
Michael crashed back onto the couch, his clothes damp with sweat. Sarah was next to him in an instant, reaching out to grab his hand, her face creased in concern.
“Again?” she asked him.
Michael felt as if he had run ten miles. “I think I’m dying.”
4
Skale didn’t wake up. At least, if he did, he never came and checked to see if his guests were okay. Sarah sat with Michael on the couch, arms around him. They didn’t say a word, and he was thankful she didn’t press him to explain what he’d just been through. He thought how lucky he was to have such an amazing friend.
Eventually, they both fell asleep, and Michael didn’t dream. He slept a deep, solid sleep free of panic or fear. He slept like he was dead.
5
Gunner Skale shook them awake. The man had put his red cloak back on, and he was bent over Michael and Sarah, his face hidden in shadow.
“Is it morning already?” Michael asked.
“Morning never comes to Mendenstone Sanctuary,” Skale replied. “It’s our curse and our blessing, but there’s no time to explain. Your demons are here.”
6
Gunner Skale’s words brought Michael and Sarah straight to their feet.
“What does that mean?” Michael asked the old man.
“Where are the demons?” Sarah added.
“Your demons are always with you,” Skale answered. His voice seemed even raspier than the day before. “Don’t you understand that by now? Always with you, impossible to escape. But you never can guess how they might manifest themselves. Be wary, my children. Now come. Quickly.”
“Where are we going?” Sarah asked insistently.
Skale didn’t answer, just crossed the room and opened the door, slipping into the hallway. Michael grabbed Sarah’s hand, and they followed him into the dark. Michael could barely see Skale making his way toward the stairs, and he rushed, pulling Sarah along, to catch up to him.
The group climbed down the steps and Skale led them to the dining area where they’d eaten the night before.
“Please have a seat,” Skale said, gesturing to the wooden chairs. “I’ll go and ask our friends to join us.”
Michael was having trouble putting everything together. He was foggy from sleep, and though his pain had disappeared, he still felt weak from the episode—the pain and the hallucinations were at the front of his mind. And now he was supposed to be readying for a battle with demons? What did Skale mean, that they were always here? Shaking his head, Michael sat in a chair, wincing at the sound of the legs scraping across the floor. Maybe somehow they could hack their way out of trouble this time before it began.
Sarah sat beside him. “We have to think. He said that we’d already been given all the information we need. Can you remember everything else he said? I think it probably has something to do with the prayer before dinner.”
“Yeah,” Michael agreed, yet for the life of him he couldn’t remember a single word. “But all I can remember is the stuff about Kaine.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Michael leaned on the table and put his head in his hands, closed his eyes. Probed the surrounding code. “I don’t see anything that can get us past this yet.”
“I’ve tried a few times, too.” Sarah tapped her fingers on the wood. “He said something in his prayer about kneeling at the feet of our ancestors. I’m sure that’s a clue.”
Michael nodded slowly as she spoke. “Maybe. It’s so weird how closed off the code seems in this place. On the Path.” He wanted to pound the table in frustration.
Gunner Skale came though the doorway, ending their conversation abruptly. And he wasn’t alone. One by one the animal creatures they’d met earlier made their way in after him. They flew and crawled, slithered and walked. The bear, the goose, the tiger, the dog, the squirrel. A dozen others. And with them were the smells of the forest—of earth and mold and rot.
The creatures filled the room and gradually arranged themselves around its perimeter, each with its back to the wall, each with its eyes glued on the two visitors in their chairs. An uncomfortable silence filled the air, broken only by an occasional snort or growl. And to Michael, every single creature looked like it wanted nothing more than to eat him for breakfast.
“What’s going on?” Michael asked Skale, surprised to find that he was whispering. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “Why do I feel like I’m about to be sacrificed to the great animal god in the sky?”
Skale took his time crossing the room and stopped beside Michael’s chair. Michael craned his neck to see the man’s face, buried deep in the red cloak.
“Because,” the man said, “that’s exactly what’s about to happen.”
Michael shot to his feet, sending the chair crashing to the floor behind him. But before he could do anything, the old man said two words that made Michael’s blood turn cold.
“Demons, arise.”
7
Gunner Skale had been right that the demons were with them from the beginning. They were the animals.
The first one Michael noticed was the bear. It opened its enormous jaws and let out a deep, rumbling bellow toward the sky. Then its fur and skin began to peel backward, like wood shavings curling in the heat of a flame. Beneath its skin was a hideous, scar-covered face, and its eyes had changed color into an impossibly bright yellow, just like the eyes he’d seen out in the forest.
Gradually the rest of the creature’s body emerged from its furry disguise. Bulging muscles, hunched back, protruding shoulder blades, clawed paws—it looked nothing like the bear that had served him dinner only hours before. A guttural snarl escaped its lips, which were pulled back from enormous teeth. But it had yet to move. It remained standing, back to the wall.
Michael was mesmerized by the transformation. And now the rest of the animals were going through the same process as the bear, skin folding back to reveal terrifying, skinless demons of all shapes and sizes.
“I thought you were here to help us,” Sarah said to Skale, who stood there unmoved by the turn of events. “What’re we supposed to do?”
“Helping you is exactly what I’m doing,” Skale said, his voice now oddly happy. “Facing your demons will change your souls forever. And your VirtNet deaths will send you back to the Wake. You’ll be saved from being trapped in this place like I have been. May your ancestors be with you, my son, my daughter.”
Michael eyed the door and, sure enough, two demons blocked the way. Somehow he and Sarah would just have to barrel through it. He grabbed Sarah’s hand, not willing to wait to see what came next—there was only one thing to do.
Michael lunged and grabbed Skale by the cloak, twisting him around until his arm was wrapped tightly around the man’s neck. Skale choked out a cough. The demons reacted as one—roaring, they stepped forward. Now they were angry.
“Back off!” Michael shouted, hoping the beasts understood him. “Come any closer and I’ll snap his neck.”