Cure for the Common Universe (23 page)

“Miles!” he cried across the Wasteland. “I got one!”

“Well, don't give away your position, idiot,” I mumbled to myself. But I was smiling.

The coach whistled. “Dead Cheef!”

Lion walked out of the Wasteland, shoulder splattered in purple, looking like he was about to cry. Three Burds versus three Cheefs. Still terrible odds. Hopefully the remaining Cheefs would follow Soup's voice and not think to look up.

I crept to the west side of the Wasteland, keeping my back to the bunkers, and blinking
maybe
once a minute. Every gust
of wind, every ping of sand hitting my visor was a potential end of the world. I passed a droopy bunker with the ghost of the Happy Sun Summer Camp logo on it. It was deflating, softly whistling out air.

I found Aurora crouched beside a wide bunker. Holding a finger to my lips, I gestured her to follow me to the deflated bunker, where I knelt and lifted the vinyl. The bunker's base strained against the ropes that anchored it to the sand, but a small cave formed underneath. Aurora nodded and elbow-crawled inside. I laid it down so she was nothing more than a gun barrel sticking out of a black cave.

“Can you breathe in there?” I asked.

The barrel nodded.

This was it. From here we'd wait them out. The Master Cheefs may have had stealth. They may have had talent. They may have had dexterity. But the Fury Burds had scrawny and skinny kids who could fit under and on top of things.

I headed north.

A shot rang out from the west. No whistle.

“Come on, Aurora,”
I whispered to the wind.
“Aim.”

The game stretched on. Scarecrow, Dorothy, and Tin Man couldn't find us, and I, for the life of me, couldn't track any of them. Then they found Soup, who couldn't stop giggling because he'd shot someone. His giggling definitely stopped when the Cheefs surrounded him. Tin Man boosted Dorothy up onto his shoulders, and she shot Soup in the stomach—at the exact same time he shot her.

“I'm sorry, Miles!” Soup sobbed as he exited the Wasteland.

“That'll do, pig,” I said quietly. “That'll do.”

I mentally leapt around the Wasteland like on a map in a MOBA game. With Aurora hopelessly pinned under the monolith, it was me versus Tin Man and Scarecrow. I had to survive. My love life depended on it.

Gravity. Mandrake's. Tonight.

The thought eased my chattering teeth.

I couldn't fit under any of the bunkers. I'd pop one if I tried to climb on top. I had no choice but to hunt.

I stalked the Wasteland. The Cheefs must've realized we had another trick up our sleeve, that an invisible assassin was taking shots at them, because nothing stirred in the west of the arena save the shifting sand. I headed north.

It goes without saying, but a real fight was a hell of a lot more complicated than video games. I couldn't go inviz or see little red dots on my radar or watch for vision cones coming out of the bad guys' eyeballs. Without a map or X-ray vision or a third-person bird's-eye view, I had to find a new way of tracking my enemy.

Ever since being unplugged, with no headphones filling my ears with explosions and lasers and chipmunks, the world had offered up its subtler sounds—the ticking of Command's Oldsmobile, the buzz of V-hab's fluorescents, the tick of the Nest's bird clock . . .

Tin Man was big.
And
he liked crushing vermin. I closed
my eyes and cupped my ears. The wind howled through the channels of the bunkers. To the east players chatted. To the west a crow cawed. Then, to the south . . .

Krsh, krsh, krsh.

I opened my eyes and crept toward the footsteps. Tin Man tromped through the sand, eyes ablaze. His skin was red. He breathed like an angry bull.

I raised my gun.

“Miles!” a voice screamed. “Behind you!”

I dropped and twisted just as Scarecrow lifted his gun. I shot him twice, purple blossoming from his chest. I felt the splat on the back of my mask from Tin Man's direction a split second before Aurora shot him in the leg.

It was over.

I lay on the hot sand, squinting at the sun, piecing together what had just happened. I wasn't ready to admit what the splat on the back of my mask meant.

“Thanks a lot,
bitch
,” Scarecrow said to Aurora, before unloading his gun point-blank into her chest.

She collapsed in the sand. I jumped up to go after him, but Tin Man stepped in front of me. His fists weren't bigger than my head, but they definitely looked that way.

Scarecrow sauntered away. Tin Man slouched after him.

“Dicks!” I called after them. I stood over Aurora. “You okay?”

She groaned and clutched her stomach, red oozing between her fingers.

“Aurora?”
I dropped to my knees. “Are you really bleeding?”

Aurora pulled off her mask and coughed into her hand, spraying droplets of red. “I'm . . . I'm just . . .” She winced in pain. “A really good . . .
actress
.”

I lifted her into my lap and dramatically shook her shoulders. “You're going to make it.”

“No—
koff
—I'm not.” She blinked her strange eyes, fake-trying to focus on mine. “I have one . . . dying . . . wish.”

“What's that?” I asked.

“Tell me . . . the compliments you owe me.”

That's right. I'd complimented every Fury Burd except her before the coach had started the game.

“Let's see,” I said. “You have fascinating eyes. You make stupid things like dandelions super-interesting. And you don't look too bad while you're dying—or
pretending
to die. You'll probably make a striking old lady.”

“I already am a striking old lady.”

Aurora died theatrically in my arms. Sand grains fluttered in her eyelashes. A moment later she came back to life and wiped some red off her cheek onto my pants.

“You didn't win,” she said.

My brain finally acknowledged the wet plaff against the back of my mask. I was dead. I wouldn't get the points. The numbness released from my rib cage and spread to my arms and legs.
Gravity
. God dammit. God fucking dammit. My eyes grew hot. I sniffed like it was from the dry air.

“No, I didn't win.”

“I'm sorry,” Aurora said.

“It's okay,” I said.

It wasn't.

“You were so close,” Aurora said.

I was so close.

I didn't know if I was going to throw up, go blind, or strangle a bunker with my bare hands. I'd lost Gravity. That was it. Because of stupid everything out of my control.

“When I get home, I'll just live at Mandrake's,” I said. “She likes that place. She'll have to come in sooner or later. . . . What are you looking at?”

“I'm just counting your eyes,” Aurora said.

It wasn't easy looking into those four pupils of hers for long.

The coach whistled, signaling the players back in.

“You need me to drag your dead body out of here?” I asked Aurora.

“I can do it.”

We walked out of the Wasteland.

“At least
you
won, right?” I said. “You get to break up with Max now?”

“I guess so.” Aurora touched her chest and breathed out some nervousness.

At the sidelines Tin Man was yelling. “That's a lie!”

Meeki shook her head. “Aurora shot him forever ago.”

“Where?” the coach asked.

“In the back of the head.”

The coach turned Tin Man around. His mask was clean. The coach gave Meeki a look. She walked in a circle around the other Cheefs, roughly grabbing their heads and examining the backs of their masks. She stepped behind Lion.

“They switched!” she said. “I was on the sidelines and saw Lion get hit right here.” She rapped on the purple paint blossom on his vest. “So when did he get shot in the head?”

She flipped Lion around. The back of his mask was splattered with purple.

The coach glared at Tin Man, who pointed at Scarecrow. “He told me to do it.”

Scarecrow said nothing.

That meant Tin Man had already been out of the game when he'd shot me. . . .

“They cheated?” Aurora said.

“I'm not dead?” I said.

The coach gave a slight nod.

250,000 points. . . .
With Aurora still alive, I had
270,000.

I was over a million.

I'd won.

I had beaten V-hab. And I had done it in four days.

I didn't tear off my shirt. I didn't go cartwheeling around the sand. I just breathed deeply and looked east, toward Mandrake's.

Aurora held out her hand. “Congratulations, Miles.”

“What, no pain?” I asked, making my love handle available.

She shook her hair.

I took her hand. I stared deeply into her strange, collapsing eyes before she turned and walked away.

I shook away a feeling.

“Fezzik, what time is it?”

He checked his watch. “Four thirty-nine.”

I had to get out of there if I was going to shower before the drive back. I smelled like a sweating corpse. Still, I wanted to show the Fury Burds some respect for helping me win.

Fezzik gave me a half-assed high five.

Meeki refused to lift her hand. “You didn't even kill anyone,” she said.

I hugged her with her arms still crossed.

“You can't ruin this for me,”
I whispered, then released her. “Soup! We did it!”

When I raised my hand to high-five him, he ran and hid in the Wasteland.

I watched him go. He'd be fine. He might be a little lonely for his last week in V-hab, but then he'd go home. I'd go over to his house and we'd spend an afternoon—no, wait, he'd shot two Cheefs—
two
afternoons, doing whatever he wanted. And if I knew Soup, then that would be whatever
I
wanted.

I owed him that much.

“Bye forever, guys!” I said, and awkwardly sprinted across the sand toward Video Horizons.

Congratulation! This story is happy end.

A WINNER IS YOU!

I HAD A MILLION MOTHERFUCKING POINTS!

Gravity was waiting.

I
was going to see Gravity. Sparkling, charming, no-longer-dripping, wanted-to-date-me Gravity. I walked past the Dust Fairy, mopping and grumbling. I walked past Scarecrow, who for the first time didn't give me that greasy grin. I walked past Zxzord, coming out of the bathroom, looking pale.

I clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for nothin', dude!”

V-hab may have been a hellhole, but there really was no better way I could have spent the last few days preparing for my date. Instead of adventuring through
Arcadia
with the Wight Knights (which, if I was being honest, I totally would have done), I'd lost a pound or two, made a couple of friends, and finally opened up about my mom's addiction. Hell, I'd even learned how to play the ukulele, battle invisible ninjas, and make dope sweet-potato hummus. I knew exactly what my and Gravity's second date would look like.

I burst into the Nest like an athlete through the finish line.

G-man was standing by my bunk.

“Come to drive me home?” I asked, holding up my hand. “I don't need the points, but I could use a high five for the road.”

He left me hanging. Instead he held up something in a plastic baggie.

My stomach dropped. So did my hand.

“What is that?” I said.

I knew what it was.

“It's an iPod Touch,” G-man said. “It's loaded with about a dozen game apps.”

The bag dangled between his fingers like he'd discovered a joint in a real rehab. My suitcase sat on the bunk behind him, pockets unzipped. G-man looked at me like he'd just found the iPod in
my
suitcase.

“How did it get in there?” I asked.

He flared his nostrils. “Judging by the smell, I don't want to know.”

Oh God. I should have let Command give me a cavity search. That way he'd know my ass held no secrets.

Something written on the half wall caught my eye. “The cake is a lie,” I said.

G-man sighed. “I think you'd better come to my office.”

•  •  •

“I've been framed.”

G-man nodded. “Any way you can prove it?”

“Yes!” I pulled my scroll out of my adventure pouch and unrolled it onto his desk. “Could I have earned this many points if I'd been busy playing games?”

G-man gave a helpless sort of nod. “Even if you played for two minutes after lights-out, it would still be considered cheating.”

I pointed at the iPod. “Someone planted it in my suitcase so I wouldn't be able to go home!”

“Who?” G-man asked. “Why?”

“I don't know! Meeki? Dryad? Anyone in the Master Cheefs? And I have no idea why they did it.” I took a deep breath, trying to calm my raging heart. Gravity was slipping away. “Who told you it was in there?”