Chapter 23

The first few messages I scrolled through were almost innocuous, getting more incoherent as time went on. I started working through them from oldest to newest.

<Mom: Made a lot of progress on that project we talked about. Going to depend on whether web access can stay up.>

<Mom: Come home soon, so we can talk about it.>

<Mom: Wait, I found something. Some sort of intranet, it’s almost completely hidden, but I can access it. Talk later.>

<Unknown number: Hey man, I know you said not to contact you on this number but you weren’t there when I went by your place. Some stuff I need to run by you asap.>

I could almost feel the vein popping out on my forehead. Mom never respected the no texting unless it’s an emergency rule, so it was inevitable what would happen as soon as she had the number for one of my burners. But Nick knew better. Especially when he was texting about going by the apartment almost assuredly on his personal phone with GPS on. 

The next message was from Ellison, using Mom’s phone. 

<Ellison: Hey. See mom’s already been bugging you but shit is weird. She’s… blue? Idk, the color shit is confusing. But it’s not just green. She’s talking about doing stuff for you and being really productive and manic and it’s weirding me out. Actually, let me check something.>

A few minutes later. 

<Ellison: Fuck. I think she dumped the booze. She took the trash out early this morning, she was being all uppity and I didn’t think anything of it. Hold on, sis wants to text something.>

<Unknown number: Bro I really need to talk to you. Hit me back.>

<Iris: I’m seeing things that aren’t there—>

I lowered the phone, walked behind the lobby counter, and sat down in an office chair under the iron-cast :), messing with the chair’s many levers until I found the one that would allow me to recline. Then I rubbed my temples and let <Born Nihilist> dismantle the anxiety slowly. I had a lot of practice compartmentalizing problems, separating them out, so I could work on them one at a time. But every so often the cracks grow too quickly and the dam breaks. I needed to seal it back up, deal with one concern at a time. 

Nick could wait. He was my best friend, but family came first, and knowing him, it wasn’t that important. He’d just convinced himself that it was. 

Mom’s situation was much more of a problem. A potentially life-threatening one. I’d had an unwanted crash course in withdrawal management the first time we went through this. You can’t just kick an alcohol addiction like you’d kick a smoking habit. The physical addiction can kill you. Your best possible option is to consult a clinic, but obviously that will cost an arm and a leg if you don’t have insurance. I chided myself for not considering the possibility on the ride over. She was too clear, too much like her old self. 

No shakes, though. Yet. 

Timeline, I had to think in terms of timeline. How far in was she? Best and most likely scenario, she’d taken a farewell-cap in the morning before dumping it all. It was late in the evening now, so she’d be approaching the twelve-hour mark. Hallucinations and a laundry list of unpleasant symptoms were coming. Her best bet was either tapering, or benzos. 

I was cash poor, down to whatever was left on my credit card, and probably less than that if all the systems were still down—but if most grocery stores were cleaned out, it followed that most liquor stores would be too. 

Did Kinsley’s store have alcohol? I strained to remember if the cornucopia of food had a beverage selection. 

Either way, I needed to get to her as soon as possible. 

Dam partially patched, I returned to the messages. Back to Iris. 

<Iris: I’m seeing things that aren’t there. Some sort of screen I can move with my mind. I thought maybe I just didn’t get enough sleep, but I can store things in it. Matt, I’m freaking out a little.>

The fact that she’d used my real name on the burner told me exactly how scared she was.

<Ellison: Okay, now that I saw Iris’s message, I’ve been seeing the same shit. Thought I was losing it. It’s weird, like something out of a game. Started a few minutes ago. One sec.>

My heart hammered in my chest. The message was from nearly four hours ago. If my siblings were Users, I didn’t understand why they were manifesting it so late. 

<Ellison: Yep. Me, mom, and sis all seeing the same thing. Weirdly specific. Inventory screen that came with 500 of something called Selve. Assignment screen. A couple clearly blank spots in the “menu.” Getting everyone out in case there’s a gas leak.>

Reading the text feed felt like a never-ending roller coaster. They weren’t Users. They were something else. No mention of a class or character screen. They just had an inventory screen and more Selve than I’d started with. 

<Kinsley: Any progress?>

<Kinsley: How’s it going?>

<Kinsley: I’m really, really bored.>

<Kinsley: I think I found a useful perk on the list. Want to run it by you later.>

Jesus Christ. Why did I even have rules if no one followed them?

<Kinsley: Are you still bringing me toothpaste?>

I nearly shot back an irritated reply before I saw the last messages in the chain. 

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<Kinsley: Something happening. SOS. I think they found me.

<Kinsley: False alarm. There’s a bunch of people outside yelling about something.>

There was one final message from my brother. 

<Ellison: Back inside. Get home when you can. Everything going to siht.>

I tapped my finger on the table, the tempo accelerating faster and faster as an endless stream of thoughts flowed through my mind. Then I grabbed the phone and started typing a message to my brother.

<Matt: Make sure Iris has her inhaler first, then when it cools down outside the apartment I need you to go dumpster diving. I might be able to get some liquor for tapering but it’s not 100%.>

The message came back instantly. 

<Ellison: She probably dumped it first.>

<Matt: Still worth a try. There might be some left in some bottles.> 

<Ellison: Roger.>

I pulled up Kinsley’s contact and fired off a message. 

<Matt: Not sure how your thing works, but I need a door. Downtown Fin district if you can manage it. Plenty to offload, but it’s time sensitive.>

It was probably a stupid move, giving her my general location. a shot in the dark. I had no idea how her doors worked. All I knew for certain was that they opened in one place and led to another.

<Kinsley: That’s far.>

Then, a second later. 

<Kinsley: Closest I can manage is the east end of the Museum on Harwood.>

<Matt: Wait twenty minutes, then open it.> 

I hit the lock button on my phone, held it’s cool plastic to the corner of my mouth for a moment. I might have been in a hurry, but not enough so that I wasn’t taking any extra precautions. That particular art museum would be a ten-minute walk and change. I’d given myself extra time for several reasons. One, I didn’t know how bad things were out there. And two, I preferred not to narrow down the radius of where I was in case she was compromised. 

When I scooted the chair back to stand-up, the back wheel bumped something. Audrey scooted away with a scrabbling growl that sounded more hurt than angry, holding a single vine away from me with a glare. 

I blinked. In the flurry of communication, I’d almost forgotten. I had a pet flower now. 

I patted her head, ruffling her petals by way of apology. She stopped grumbling soon after. 

“Have to put you back now,” I said. 

“In… the dark?” Audrey asked. 

“Yes.” I felt a little bad when I said it. It might not be such a bad idea to have some sort of discreet carrier for her. I wasn’t certain how good her eyes were, but if it was a backpack, she could constantly be on the lookout from behind. With the increased peripheral vision from <Awareness I> It would almost be full coverage.

“Bring me… back?” Audrey asked, her voice a whisper. 

“Of course. And I’ll have extra meat for you when I do.” 

<System Notification: Your bond with Hybrid Flowerfang, Audrey, has increased to 3.>

Audrey began to disappear. Reversing the summoning process was far easier than its counterpart, and felt as if something I’d forgotten was missing was finally regained. 

I stored my armor, dagger, and crossbow in my inventory. It seemed better to keep the mask, at least until I was a decent distance from the dungeon. If things were bad in both Kinsley and my sections of the city, it was likely that whatever was happening was wide-spread. Something had changed with the civilians, including my family. 

They weren’t Users, but they were something else. 

One thing at a time. I placed the mask on and stepped out of the dungeon doors. 

Into total fucking anarchy. 

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