Authors: Curtis Hox
Rupture (29 page)
That wasn’t so bad, he thought, and actually wondered what it would be like to—
The ghost he’d kissed stepped away, and laughed.
“Hah! I won!” It pointed at the other. “Admit your loss.”
The other one stared at Hutto and looked like she might cry. “I can’t believe it, you big idiot.” She turned back to the other ghost. “You won.”
The winner disappeared in an instance.
“Thank god,” Hutto said. “Your turn, AI. It was the deal.”
But the ghost didn’t disappear. She just backed away, a look of confusion and hurt on her face. She floated above his floor, until she melded with the far wall. The last thing he saw was the ghost wiping a digital tear from her eye.
Oh, hell.
“Wait,” he yelled at her as she disappeared. “Simone, I’ll kiss you, too. Don’t be mad at me!”
THE END
Thank you for purchasing this book. If you enjoyed it, please leave a comment or review at the site of purchase. Check out my website at
About the author:
Curtis Hox is an English professor by day and a science fiction writer by night. He launched his debut novel,
Bleedover
, in Nov. 2011, and in 2012 he's releasing his YA Transhuman Warrior Series. He's also blogging his journey as a self-published author. He lives with his wife and two year old son, who often pretends to type on his keyboard.
Stand-alone novels
:
Short stories
:
Connect with me online:
Glitch
Sample
JOSS BECKWITH SAT IN THE LAST SEAT of the far row in Mr. Hoover’s homeroom class. Joss’s shoulders and hips still hurt. He tried not to scratch at his neck. The Rogue attack he’d suffered last week had been reversed, but the fact his head and arms had been on backward for a short time meant he’d be dealing with the aches for weeks.
Daily injections of nano-therapy in his bloodstream meant he was also groggy most of the time. But he didn’t complain. No way. Rejuv worked miracles, the advertisers claimed. It had worked wonders for him. So he sat and tried to ignore the itching. He’d been waiting in class for fifteen minutes, thumbing his tablet, watching everyone arrive through the surveillance cameras.
The Sterling School year began on a morning with sheets of rain falling slantwise in angry bursts. Through his tablet, Joss watched a parking lot full of raindrops bouncing off cars, while students rushed into the building to crowd the hallways. Once inside, they shuffled about with their shiny rain slickers and galoshes, on their way to lockers.
When two-foot-tall Transhuman reject Wally Dorsey walked in homeroom and waved, Joss gave him a courteous nod. Wally placed a booster in the seat in front of Joss’s.
Next came Kimberlee Newkirk, who sat on the very far side of the room. She looked as fashionable as ever, if you considered a black-and-red horizontally-striped shirt with a vertically striped yellow-and-black skirt fashionable. She glanced at both of them with a stern It’s-Morning-So-Don’t-Bother-Me look.
Joss glanced up as glad-fighter-in-training Hutto Toth strolled in like the new star of the school because Hutto was, well, Hutto. He sat in the back, too, slouched in his chair, letting his long blond locks fall in his face, and shut his eyes. Beasley Gardner followed, knocking two students aside like the mountain she was.
Joss tapped his tablet. “Damn I’m good.”
“What?” Wally turned around.
“Notice anything?”
Wally lifted his little eyebrows, as if some great mystery awaited. “No. What?”
Joss looked at the other members of the Consortium Cybercorps Program, who all just happened to be in Mr. Hoover’s homeroom.
“Oh, yeah! You did that?” Wally asked.
“Hacked registration to keep us all together. First period as well.”
Mr. Hoover ambled in as if he had no better place to be. Their teacher was a tall, pot-bellied man who never seemed to fit in his suits. He gripped his cup of coffee he had to have to function. After a long sip, he began roll call.
Joss pointed at his tablet. “Oh, hell! Consortium cyber agent’s here. Guy’s even wearing a jacket and tie.”
The video in Joss’s tablet showed a man in a conservative single-breasted suit with jet-black Consortium-branded Mirrorshades striding down the hall like he owned the place. The agent spotted Principal Smalls nibbling on a chocolate bagel and sipping a warm cup of coffee.
“Principal Smalls needs to hit the gym,” Wally said. “He eats way too many donuts.”
The agent stood straight, but he was still shorter than Principal Smalls. He flicked a drop of water from his Mirrorshades.
“Total advantage wearing those,” Joss said. “Can’t see where he’s looking.” He fiddled with this tablet. “Let’s see if we can listen in.”
“Can I help you, sir?” Principal Smalls asked.
“We have reason to believe Sterling is harboring an illegal Transhuman Unperson. I’m here to find her.”
Principal Smalls harrumphed. “I still need to make sure everyone’s in homeroom. I don’t have time for this right now. Are you referring to …?“
“Simone Wellborn.”
“I haven’t seen her since—”
“—she went missing. I know. I read your report.”
Principal Smalls finished the last of his coffee. He tossed the paper cup into a handy bin. He checked his watch. “What can I do for you right now, Agent …?”
“Nable. Agent Clifton Nable.” He scanned the hall, just as a student rushed out of the bathroom. The student bolted by them with seconds to spare. He flashed a relieved smile at Principal Smalls before he yanked open a door down the hall, then thrust himself into the classroom.
Principal Smalls checked his watch again. “Everyone has to be in their seat before the—” Loud electronic sounds—
beep, beep, beep—
rang all over campus. “Right on time. If there was something I could do for you, I’d be glad to do it. The Sterling School abides by any and all regulations of persons. Right now, I have the school day to begin.”
Agent Nable nodded. He remained rooted in place, as if he planned to stand there all day and peruse the physical trophies and pictures of students in the glass cases.
“What’s he seeing in his HUD?” Joss said more to his tablet than to Wally. “If I can hack …” He banged away. “There we are. He’s accessing a list of all Sterling students.”
“Uh oh.”
“Each one classified as a specific type of person, all good and proper.” Joss pointed so that Wally could see. “Look at that.” A flash of red:
Simone Wellborn, Altertranshuman, missing
.
“She’s not missing,” Wally said.
“Not at all.”
Agent Nable began walking without moving his head. When a teacher standing in the doorway to her classroom eyed him like he might be a crazed killer, he stopped in front of her. When he smiled, still looking forward, she yelped and slammed the door.
“What a jerk,” Wally said. “Likes to scare the naturals.”
When the agent arrived at the end of the corridor, he turned around, crossed to the other side of the building, and began walking toward the other main corridor.
“He’s heading for the bathroom,” Joss said. “I had scrubbers working for three nights eating that Rogue beacon away. No way he’ll spot any residue.”
Agent Nable walked into the empty bathroom without knocking. The door shut behind him.
Joss let the tablet fall flat. “Damn. He’s inside now. No camera. I can’t see.” He looked up to see if Wally understood what was happening. “He must know.”
“He didn’t knock,” Wally said.
Joss stared at Wally, who leaned on his desk. “He knows what happened in there. Simone’s in trouble.”
A few minutes later, Agent Nable left the bathroom.
Joss leaned over his tablet. “He’s leaving.”
“The bathroom?”
“The building.”
Joss tapped it to switch surveillance feeds. He and Wally watched the agent walk outside into the rain. He walked up a hill to the ridge behind the school. Joss focused enough to see heavy raindrops splashing against Agent Nable’s Mirrorshades and on his head and clothes. The sky was an oppressive gray, with clouds that swept in from the mountains, promising a change in the season. The agent walked like an automaton to the ridge line where pine trees swayed in the wind, as if dancing together.