Walking Ghost Phase (18 page)

The world faded.

Emily opened her eyes and studied the unfamiliar surroundings. Overhead, a fluorescent light buzzed in short bursts, flickering off and on in a constant fight against darkness. Sheets of blank paper littered the floor, while the rest of the ream sat on the edge of a desk and appeared ready to spill over the side. A booming sound penetrated the walls, and the foundation rattled. Specks of dust and plaster floated down like snow, landing on her shoulders and boots.

When Emily turned and looked for her squad, goose bumps raced up her arms and neck. She recognized the feeling since she
'd lived with it for the last three months, but it now beat at her mind with a cry of urgency. She had forgotten something.

She squeezed around her pockets, swinging the gun out of the way, and then realized the inhaler wouldn
't have followed her into the Sim.
What is it?
The nag in her brain persisted. She tapped the barrel against her leg and concentrated. Tap. Tap. Tap. “Idiot,” she whispered to herself. Emily stared down the side of the gun, found the tiny black switch and clicked off the safety.

Her other two squad-mates huddled around a female who stood a few inches shorter than Emily. An A1 floated above the girl
's helmet. “Eliminate the enemy,” A1 said. “We should secure the roof first. The high ground will give us an advantage.”

Emily nodded immediately. That was an awesome idea. Going up gave them two options: stairs or elevators. The elevator control panel beeped off and on, matching the flicker of the overhead lights. No way could they could go up in that thing. Stairs, however, took time to climb, and the longer she took, the less blinded pain she would experience.

“No,” A2 said.

Emily slumped forward and sighed in the direction of the recognizable voice.
Don't do this to me
.
Not now.

“
That's an order,” A1 said. “We need to claim the high ground ASAP.”

“
That's what they expect,” Matt said. He pointed at the exit. “We should recon first.”

“
Wait a second,” A4 said. “You're the guy who deserted his group last night. Dude, there's a bounty on your head.”

“
A bounty?” Emily asked. “You mean someone wants him dead?”

Matt laughed.
“A little wannabe soldier who got his feelings hurt offered to eat a week's worth of lunches for anyone who puts a bullet in me.”

A1 stared at him. Emily imagined the thoughts running through the girl
's mind: down a squad member and not feeling sick for a week, or let him go, get nothing and still lose a squad member. “What's the punishment for killing one of your teammates?” A1 asked.

“
Don't know,” A4 said. “Now that you mention it, I don't think I want to find out.”

“
We're going to the roof.”

Matt stepped back and motioned to the stairwell.
“Be my guest.” He glanced up. “Forty stories? I give you twenty minutes until you're dead, nineteen of which will be spent climbing stairs.”

Emily grabbed a wad of Matt
's sleeve. “You're seriously going to leave us?”

Matt glanced at her rifle, which she kept aimed at the floor. He apparently understood the risk of a squad-mate killing him, whether it was for the stupid bounty or simply because he annoyed the wrong person. For a moment he seemed to wonder if she might be that person.
“Emily, I have to go.”

“
You two know each other?” A1 asked.

Emily ignored her.
“You're going to let me die because you refuse to take orders?”

“
Come with me. We can die together.”

Emily
's heart thumped. “What did you say?”

“
Let's go, Em. Together.”

“
No.” She lifted her rifle, pointing it at his sternum.

“
You won't shoot me.”

Emily
's arms trembled; the gun barrel swayed between the second and third button of Matt's shirt. “I'll do it.”

“
No, you won't. Somewhere in your mind you know I'm right, that I'm the only one who can get you out of here.”

“
Please, come with us. We need you.”

“
Bargaining now? You're almost there.”

A1 shoved aside Emily
's gun. “Let him go. He isn't worth it.”

“
Thank you,” Matt said.

“
Shut up, deserter.” She turned to A4. “Let's move. We don't need him.” She jogged toward the stairwell while Emily stared at Matt. True to his word, he ran the opposite direction, went through an exit door and disappeared from sight. Emily rejoined her squad near the stairwell, too late to do anything but wonder if she might regret her decision.

A1 jumped forward, kicking her boot into the hollow metal door. It shot open with a deafening squeal and boomed when it came to a sudden stop against the interior wall. Four rolled-up carpets lay on the stairs, and Emily crept
inside the narrow chamber, stepping over three more rolls.

After easing up the first flight, Emily followed A1
's lead and pressed her back against the wall. She tiptoed upward, each step softer than the last. A hanging light at the top grew larger in the stagnant air. Once Emily stood under it, still alive, she had already doubled her previous night's time.

Emily moved inside the office, positioned herself behind the first set of gray cubicles and peeked over the top. A1 and A4 covered the center and right aisles, where overturned chairs spilled their brown, cushiony guts on the floor. Their next destination sat at the far end of the room—a door labeled
Roof Access Only.
Muffled bursts of automatic gunfire guaranteed the enemy lay beyond it. A1 waved and pointed at the door.

Ducking below the cubicle walls, Emily followed A1
into the center aisle. A3 took the right flank as they closed in on the door, silent, ready to ambush their enemies, but the outside gunfire suddenly stopped. A1 looked over her shoulder at Emily, who shrugged.

Then, with a flash of orange, the door ripped off the hinges and flew
across the room, striking a cubicle and making a complete flip. A flood of sunlight pierced Emily's visor, and she turned her head. A few feet away, A3 convulsed as his fatigues shredded from an onslaught of bullets. Emily dove headfirst between two rows of desks, and the gun barrel dug into her leg. She shoved it aside, accidentally discharging a single round into A4's dead body—or she hoped he was dead.

Somewhere close, A1 screamed, but after thre
e quick gunshots, a gurgle crawled through her lips—the sound of lungs drowning in blood. Her legs lay halfway in the center aisle and twitched with a violent spasm. A crimson pool swelled around her.

Emily pulled the rifle
against her chest. Her hands trembled, knees shook. A flurry of bullets zipped above her head as footsteps circled the desk. She pressed her back against the underside, curling her body around the rifle.
Stay quiet
.
Maybe they'll go away.

The footsteps came closer, almost on top of her now. She heard muffled breathing.
“What do we have here?” the defender asked. His tone carried a cruel sense of joy.

Emily stared up at him. He held the barrel of his gun an inch from her chest, and in the reflection of his visor she watched her rifle slip through her fingers. It thudded on the carpet. She threw her hands above her head, too late for her to remember that Colonel Moore never mentioned if the Sim allowed for prisoners of war.

The defender reached down, ripped off her helmet and tossed it somewhere behind her. “Where's your last squad-mate?” He touched the gun barrel to her forehead. “Tell me, and I'll make sure your death is quick and only slightly painful.” He jabbed the gun into her leg. “Or don't, and this is going to be a long night for you.”

“
He's dead,” Emily said. “You know the deserter?”

“
Oh, was he in your squad?”

“
Yeah, and I put the bullet in him myself.”
Why am I lying for that bastard? And what will they do to me when they find out?
She nudged his gun toward her face, not wanting to give him the impression she was trying to escape. “Get this over with. Please?”

“
Not yet.” He glanced at the other defenders. “Check downstairs. Let's see if she's telling the truth.”

Emily heard them run toward the stairwell, and soon the door creaked open. A moment later a different defender shouted,
“I see the body. At the bottom.”

The carpets. Idiots.

“You've definitely made our job easier,” her interrogator said. “You held up your end of the bargain. As for me—” He swung the stock of his gun, implanting it against her cheek and branding her with a mark of victory. She fell forward, and her head bounced off the floor. A wicked throb coursed over her skull. “—I'm a compulsive liar. It's a character flaw, I know.”

Emily held her chin and whimpered. Tears dropped on her hand. Then the deafening sound of close-range gunfire reverberated around the office. Bullets dug into her back, shoulders and head. She managed a half-scream.

The world faded.

You Are Dead!

Damn you, Matt.

Overall time:

Twenty minutes, fourteen seconds.

Why did you leave us?

State of death time remaining:

Six hours, thirty-nine minutes, forty-six seconds
.

Why did you leave me?

A million tiny daggers stabbed at the skin she could not see. Burning pain roared over the legs she could not move. In her mind, she was screaming, crying even. She tried to focus, to think of her mother sitting at the living room window, to think of her walks to the abandoned house, to think of that person in the dark cavern and even think of her father dying in the hospital bed. But the vacuum of nothingness consumed her will, leaving her locked inside a prison of unwanted thoughts and pain, the moment of lost sanity of which Maggie spoke.

Hours later, when the lights of the Sim chamber flashed overhead, Emily pulled her knees against her chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks and splashed into the gel. “I…I don't want to do this anymore.”

Emily, wearing a hospital gown, walked
across the dark Sim chamber. The overpowering hum was gone, replaced by the low buzz of a distant fan. Tonight, no one roamed between the vats. Near the back wall was a rising cloud of steam, and she went toward it, her bare feet slapping the frigid tiles. “Hello?” she called through her chattering teeth.

A voice answered with a hush.
“Shhhhh, they're sleeping.”

“
Who? Where are you?”

The elevator door chimed, and Emily turned. Soldiers piled out of it, real soldiers wielding guns, aiming at something in the distance. They ran past her
as if she didn't exist and disappeared on the other side of the steam.