Etherworld (4 page)

“The wristband will register it and the safety settings will kick into gear,” Zared says, filling in the blanks.

“But then the program will just send us back to reality,” Malik says, cheerfully. “That's a good thing, right?”

“Hey, maybe that's why Caldwell and the others bailed and went back to Elusion,” adds another boy.

Josh is holding one of the bombs in his hands, his head bowed like he doesn't want to look at anyone, especially Nora. Maybe he fears that his sister will be able to see the truth in his gray eyes—that returning to reality from Etherworld at this point could be a death sentence.

But we have to tell her, don't we? Don't we have to tell all of them?

“I'm not sure what will happen,” my dad says, his voice wavering. “But remember what I've said. Purposely leaving Elusion is dangerous, especially since we've been here much longer than the allotted hour. The level of trypnosis we're under is deep, and high responders like you will have trouble when you're disconnected from your Equip. Once the app is terminated, though, you should be able to regain consciousness.”

“So you're saying our worst enemy is our minds?” Claire asks.

“Exactly,” he says, folding his hands. “Which is why we have to do everything we can to control our thoughts. When we enter Elusion, we have to believe that we're going to succeed ‘Believe' being the key word. And remember, the destruction you're witnessing is not real. You're playing a game that you know you will win. And we
will
win. We will beat Elusion.”

This is the uplifting speech I was hoping for earlier, but I can't take comfort in what he's saying. I guess I know too much.

“And if we can't?” Wyatt asks, gazing at my dad with the same pleading eyes I used to use as a kid.

My dad pats him on the back and forces a confident smile. Exactly like he did with me.

“Just do your best,” he says. “That's all any of us can do.”

Josh finally lifts up his head and we share a look, each knowing what the other is thinking.

Our best might not be good enough to save us.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

AFTER A DAY OF HARD LABOR, WE ALL retreat back to base camp, which consists of a huge, open-air common area, nicknamed the Great Space, surrounded by an eight-floor, honeycomb-shaped cavern. A crude motel of sorts, it's constructed from a mix of wood and stone. It has arched doorways and an outdoor staircase. Platforms lead to small cave-like rooms that act as sleeping quarters.

I'm relieved to be back. We loaded and distributed the bombs among the ping tunnels leading toward the Escapes for what seemed like hours. The only good thing was that my dad, Zared, and Josh were able to find a way to temporarily anesthetize the slug-like creature, using some kind of special code in one of the tunnels. My dad said it'll appear again, but he can't predict when or where.

Josh's room is eight floors above mine. I wonder if the placement is intentional and physical separation is another one of my dad's attempts to protect me. But if so, he underestimated our determination. As everyone headed into the common area, we managed to slip away unnoticed.

Alone with Josh, I walk around his circular room, tracing the rough edges of the wall with my fingers. I feel bad about not telling the others, or even my dad, about the fate of their friends. But before I inform everyone that there's a decent chance none of us will make it back home, I want to discuss it with Josh.

“I don't know,” Josh says. “It's just . . . what's the point of telling them?” He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning back on his hands and watching me. “It will kill morale. And that will jeopardize the mission, because psychologically everyone will be a mess. Which could kill them for real. And they might even boycott the mission altogether, and then what would we do?”

I understand the military perspective: Morale is more important than weapons! But don't they deserve to know? How can I continue to keep this secret from my dad?

“You're really quiet,” Josh says.

“I'm thinking,” I say.

“Well think out loud or something. I'm tired of hearing myself talk.”

I stop midpace and look at him, not wanting to admit that deep down I completely disagree. We definitely don't need any tension between us.

“It's okay,” he says, coaxing me with a warm smile.

“I think we need to tell them the truth,” I say. “If I was in their shoes, I would want to know.”

Josh stands and brushes the ash off his pants. Then he walks over and steps in front of me, blocking my path. He slowly runs the back of his hand down my cheek, and the tension in my body begins to release.

“People have kept things from you, including me,” he says softly. “But sometimes you need to have secrets. They're not always bad. Sometimes they serve a noble purpose, like when you're trying to protect someone.”

I think about when I was questioning my dad earlier about Elusion—and how he cut me off—and wonder if Josh is right. Maybe there are things my father's not telling me so that he can keep me safe.

“I don't believe in that kind of protection. The person who benefits always seems to be the one with something to hide.”

Josh sighs, but it's not out of frustration—it's because he knows I'm right.

“But we don't actually know how Anthony died,” he counters. “He could have contracted pneumonia from being out on the streets. And for all we know the others could have already recovered, so there's no—”

Josh stops talking the moment we hear noise coming from the narrow passage that leads to his room.

“Did you hear that?” he asks me, his voice low.

I nod and he walks quietly toward the door, me trailing behind. Someone has been listening to us.

We step in front of the archway just in time to lock eyes with a girl wearing a filthy sundress, tears streaming down her face. It's Piper, one of Claire's friends. I want to invite her in and explain, but before we can say anything, she bolts away.

Josh and I chase after her, but she must be some kind of track star in the real world, because by the time we're halfway down the passage, she's gone. Josh sprints ahead of me, hoping to catch up to her.

“Hurry, Regan!” he shouts, barreling to the end. He stops and leans over the railing that overlooks the Great Space. In the distance, we can see the rest of the group gathered by the bonfire.

“Where did she go?” I whisper when I reach him, a little out of breath.

“There!” he says, as we see a flash of Piper's faded copper hair.

She's headed toward the Great Space. She's going to tell them everything.

My calves burn as Josh and I tear down the ramp, my arms swinging hard. I can't see Piper, so I don't know how far ahead of us she is. How the hell is she running so fast?

We're four levels from the bottom when Josh's foot gets caught in a crevice and he stumbles. He falls face-first, but braces himself with his hands and tumbles over into a forward roll that would be really impressive and sexy under any other circumstances. I reach out my hand and help him up. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he says, and then we're off again.

We sprint to the end of the ramp and burst into the center of the Great Space. Everyone looks like they're in a state of shock. Piper stands in front of them, her mouth moving a mile a minute as the flames from the bonfire flicker beside her. Ayesha is comforting Malik, clutching him in her arms. Zared's head is hanging low, his face buried in his hands. Wyatt and Claire sit near each other, completely stone-faced. Others are just quiet, retreating inside themselves, exactly like I did when I thought my dad was dead.

But there he is, seemingly very much alive as he hivers near the fire, the flames casting a bit of white light on his face. He's staring off into space, his jaw clenched. Why didn't I confide in him earlier?

Josh and I need to do some damage control.

I walk over to the spot where Piper was just standing, and when I look at the group, I feel like I'm about to give a eulogy. They appear so shaken, and I want to say something to ease their pain. But I know from experience just how impossible that is.

“I'm not sure what Piper has told you,” I begin. “But I wanted to say how sorry—”

“Sorry isn't going to bring Anthony back,” says an angry voice in the crowd. “It's not going to wake Maureen or Kelly up either.”

“I know, but . . . we're not sure what happened. Anthony was found in Miami, on the street, unconscious, and—”

“It doesn't matter,” says Piper. “You weren't going to tell us at all. We asked you point-blank and everything.”

“This could happen to us,” Zared mutters. “We could die if we're sent back before we have a chance to destroy Elusion.”

My father gazes at me with empty, emotionless eyes. I'm not sure I can go on, but when I feel Josh's arm settle around my shoulders, I'm able to take in a big breath and continue.

“Please, just hear me out,” I say.

“Why should we?” says another voice.

Claire stands up now. “Just let her talk, okay?”

“Yeah, give her a chance.” Nora appears by Claire's side, planting her hands on her hips, just like I've seen Avery do. “You guys are acting like what happened to Anthony is Regan's fault, and it isn't.”

“No, it's mine,” says my dad, walking through the crowd and stepping in front of me.

Protecting me from all the scrutiny, accepting blame when he shouldn't—I can't let him do this.

“Dad, don't. You know that's not—”

My dad spins back around and faces the rest of the crowd. “
Nobody
is going to risk their life out there except for me. I started this mess and I'll get us out of it.”

“But Dad—” I plead.

“I mean it, Regan. I'll do this alone,” he says, and then stalks off. I try to follow him, but Josh holds me back and we watch my father vanish into the darkness.

The group breaks off into small cliques, whispering among themselves, while Josh and I linger on the outskirts until the flames of the bonfire are nothing but smoke, the only light cast by the dim glow of Etherworld's invisible moon. I look up at the charcoal sky and make out the outline of the closest ash hill, which has a peak that's shaped like a lowercase
R
.

“So what do we do now?” Josh murmurs.

I have no clue. Not only that, but I feel like Josh was right. In this case, finding out the truth wasn't in everyone's best interest, especially my dad's—he seems to be in a full-fledged guilt spiral. It's weird: I almost feel like Patrick might have been sincere when he said he was trying to protect me, now that I'm seeing things from a different perspective.

“Regan? Are you okay?”

Nora is walking toward us, her hands shoved in her pockets, just like her brother likes to do—except I feel like Josh hides his hands to make himself less intimidating.

“How's everyone doing?” Josh asks her.

Nora shrugs. “Most of us are holding our own, but some people are really scared. Especially the ones who were close with Anthony.”

“That's understandable,” Josh says. “Are you okay, though? About Maureen?”

It seems like Josh may have already told his sister about our failed hunt for her in the Quartz Sector and how we found that girl we now know is Maureen.

“Claire suggested that the tribes take a vote, to see who still wants in on this mission,” Nora says with a shrug.

“Tribes?” I ask.

“That's what your dad started calling us, since we're from different cities,” she says with a small smile.

“So what happened?” Josh asks.

“The majority want to keep going. They don't feel like they have another choice, regardless of the risk,” she explains. “But a few want to stay back, like Piper and Zared.”

Josh looks relieved for a moment, but then his eyes fill with doubt. “But how can we help if David won't let us?”

“Let me talk to him,” I say.

Josh nods, reassuringly. “If there's anyone he'll listen to, it's you,” he says.

When I enter my dad's dimly lit room, I almost expect him to be huddled over a computer or staring intently at his tab, just like he'd always be at our house on Hollow Street. Instead he's standing at a workbench made out of slabs of rock, hunched over one of the glass bombs, rolling it back and forth on the uneven surface like a marble.

There's a cot in the corner, barely big enough to fit him. The pillowcase has a water mark on it, and for some reason I think back to my mother's stories of working in the ER during flu season and having to change the bedding every hour because of how much the patients were perspiring. I only snap out of my wandering thoughts when I hear my father sigh, meaning he can sense my presence. He's always had a way of knowing I was near. When I was little, I would try to sneak up behind him and give him a scare, but it never worked.

“I don't want to talk right now,” he says without turning around to look at me.

“I know you're upset,” I say. “I'm sorry. Josh and I should've told you earlier about Anthony . . . we were just trying to figure out what to do.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” My dad lets the bomb roll until it nearly slips off the workbench and onto the floor, but he catches it before it does. “I'm the one who killed Anthony. I created this product. I knew it had problems. He lost his life because I failed him. I failed them all.”

“No,” I say firmly, walking toward him. He turns his back to me, as if he doesn't want to face me. “You were doing everything you could to figure out what was wrong with Elusion. If Cathryn and Bryce hadn't gone behind your back, none of this would have happened.
They're
the ones to blame. They're the reason we're all here.”