Michael Robertson - New Reality - Truth

Walking over to the exposed machine, Tom a few paces behind, Jake heard his friend slip. When he turned around, he saw him standing on one leg. “Are you okay?”

Gritting his teeth, Tom frowned hard. “I think I’ve fucked my ankle up. I hate this fucking place. I hate Rixon. I hate that I can’t be around my family.”

“Come on, keep your chin up. Let’s keep moving. We’ll find Rory.”

“Don’t tell me to keep my chin up. I’ve been keeping my chin up for four fucking years now.” His face had turned red. “How much longer do I have to hold it up for?”

“Let’s just get our supplies and keep moving, yeah?” Picking his way over the terrain, Jake glanced at the gamer they’d turned over. The deep sore on her back was plugged with grit. Shuddering, Jake peered into the hole at the vending machine. A chill ran through his veins. “Shit!”

When Tom appeared next to him, Jake winced in anticipation of his friend’s reaction.

“What the fuck? Where’s all the fucking food and drink gone?”

Unable to find the appropriate words, Jake stared at the carcass of the vending machine.

Still red faced, but now shaking too, Tom threw his middle finger at the tower, his voice cracking as he shouted, “Fuck you, Rixon!”

Picking up a rock, Tom lobbed it in the direction of their corporate overlord. “Fuck you, you fucking arseholes! Fuck you!”

With his heart kicking and his weak legs trembling, Jake stared at the hole in the back of the machine. The metal was folded in as if a powerful punch had blown through it. With how the machine lay, that powerful punch would have had to have been from beneath it, from something underground.

Circumnavigating the hole, Tom strode towards the tower. “Fucking Rixon. Fucking arseholes!”

As long as he wasn’t looking into the hole, Jake didn’t care. Let him think Rixon did this to them. Looking down again, an icy chill running through him, Jake studied the scratch marks. They cut through the red metal to the steel beneath. It was as if clawed hands had reached up and scrabbled away as something pulled itself through. The memory of last night sent a shiver through him. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.

Having already stopped walking towards the tower, Tom jumped up and down. “You fucking fucks! Fuck!”

It was clear to see the hole was the entrance to a tunnel. Following the imagined path of it, Jake’s eyes found the raised spine of disturbed rubble a few meters away. Scratching his head, he glanced at Tom, who was still preoccupied.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

How could he tell him? The poor man would never sleep again if he knew what had happened in the night.

When Tom returned, Jake stepped away from the hole.

Seeing his friend’s actions seconds before they happened, Jake jumped on him and pulled him back in time to watch his kick, aimed at the gamer’s headset, catch nothing but air.

Exhaustion, a diet of mostly sugar, and aching legs made the struggle hard, but he managed to restrain his friend and pull him back a few paces.

“What are you doing, Tom? Do you want to get shot at?”

“They’re fucking arseholes! They’re fucking with us, so we give up.” With wide eyes, Tom looked over at the tower again. “Well, you know what? I ain’t ever giving up. I’m going to find my son and then I’m coming for them.”

Ushering the tall man away, watching the ground to make sure neither of them fell, Jake managed to turn him around. “Come on, we need to get out of here. We need to find Rory.”

As they walked off, Jake glanced behind again. They were now far enough away from Tom’s grave. Looking at the fat gamer, Jake’s palms started sweating in a delayed reaction to what Tom had nearly done. The last thing they needed was the Bots on top of them too.

From their current position, Jake was afforded a better perspective on the raised line of rubble. The path led from the vending machine all the way into the distance. The line returned in the direction of the sinkhole. Maybe the thing last night was just a scout. Maybe it had taken the food back to its friends and Jake happened to be in the way of the expedition. It could have simply been a coincidence. Wrong place, wrong time? Or maybe the vending machine was a bonus, and he and Tom were the true prizes. Maybe it had gone to tell its friends it had found them.

Jake snapped out of his daydream with a jolt when Tom stopped and said, “What are you looking at?”

“Um. Uh, nothing.” He shook his head and drew a shaky breath. “Nothing.”

Staring at his friend through narrowed eyes, Tom looked behind, a frown crushing his long face.

Imagining the things watching them, lurking beneath as they positioned themselves to strike, Jake tugged on Tom’s sleeve. “Come on. Let’s keep moving.”

Why didn’t they just bloody give up?

Why did she have to be the one to end it all?

Rubbing her tired eyes as she watched them walk away, she let out a deep sigh at the inevitability of their situation. She had to be the one to take responsibility—someone had to.

Popping the ring pull, the carbonated hiss revealing the freshness of the drink despite its dented exterior, she lifted it to her lips and tasted the sweet liquid.

Someone had to end it all.

Every step sent shooting pains up Jake’s shins. When would his legs give way completely? Exhaustion had turned his jaw slack and sent his shoulders south as he plodded on.

Swallowing hard, his dry throat itched, the stirrings of a hacking cough crawling at the back of it. Looking up at the sky, Jake saw it had turned from gunmetal grey to black. Butterflies of anxiety shimmered in his stomach. At some point, they’d have to stop and rest. At some point, the cloak of night would envelop them again.

When he looked ahead at the haggard and wobbly Tom walking along the ridge of a deep crater, the rags he called clothes billowing out behind him, Jake could only assume he looked as bad. If anyone saw them from a distance, they’d probably believe they were seeing ghosts. Much longer of this existence, and that’s exactly what they would be seeing.

Not only was every step setting fire to his lower legs, but every step demanded Jake’s attention as the ground slipped and shifted. The concentration required to stay upright made it hard to keep looking for Rory. The loud roar of the wind added to his disorientation.

The silence between the pair had lasted for hours, so when Tom spoke, Jake latched onto it. “Why are there so many less gamers about?”

The memory of last night flooded Jake’s mind. Scratch. He shuddered and then shook his head as if to dislodge the image of claws dragging fat bodies into the rubble. “I don’t know, man. Maybe the lack of exercise and fattening diet is killing them off.”

“Why now?”

Jake shrugged. “Maybe we’ve past the average life expectancy for gamers.”

The crater next to them was so huge it could have concealed a shopping mall. Looking into it, Tom sighed. “Do you think Rory’s gone?”

“No.”

“No?”

“If I think Rory’s gone, then why are we looking for him? If there’s a chance, we have to keep moving. He’s your son, Tom. We have to keep going.”

“I will, but what’s keeping you going, Jake?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“Nature? Are you still trying to convince me that you’re doing all of this to find a fucking tree?”

“I’ve told you, Tom, I didn’t travel when I had the chance before all of this. We lived on such a beautiful planet, and it’s taken the destruction of it to make me realize what I was taking for granted. I want to survive long enough to see change. I want to see the start of this world returning to its former beautiful glory. Besides,” Jake pointed at the floor, “this is reality.”