Game Breaker Read online

  This time, Minx and Murphy exchanged a look.

  “He’s homeschooled?” Murphy said. He shook his head. “Will the surprises never end?”

  “Homeschooling’s not that bad,” Minx replied, though her expression belied her words. “It’s kind-of a cool way to learn, I guess.”

  “You hear that?” Murphy said, elbowing Breccan. “It’s kind-of cool.”

  Breccan looked down at his elbow. “You want to do that again?”

  Murphy backed off. “And end up on the floor again? No, thank you. You can keep your homeschool street fighting to yourself. I’m going to plug in.”

  He slumped into one of the chairs and grabbed a headset. With practiced fingers, the boy stuck the exposed cord into the port in the back of his head, then he settled more securely into the chair. A moment later, a sound gurgled from his throat.

  “Is he snoring?” Breccan asked in amazement.

  Minx gave a small laugh. “Yeah. That boy can sleep in two seconds. It’s not as impressive as it sounds.” She motioned to chairs in the back of the room. “Come on.”

  Breccan sat next to Jonny and picked up the headset. The helmet-like object was scratched and worn. A piece of silver tape held one of the flaps down. He shot Jonny a questioning look.

  Jonny nodded at his own headset. “It’s not the best, but it’s one of the free places in the city. Trust me; you won’t care once you’re in. Try it.”

  Breccan was about to put the headset on when Jonny spoke again.

  “You were probably awake during homeschool, right?”

  “Yeah,” Breccan replied as if that was a stupid question.

  “Well, you won’t be when you go to the Edge.” He lifted the helmet. “The plug activates the hypothalamus, which turns off part of your brain.”

  “It turns off part of my brain?” Breccan repeated. “How?”

  “I just said it activates it,” Jonny replied.

  He glanced to his right. Breccan followed his gaze to where Minx had plugged in and closed her eyes.

  “Actually, I have no idea,” Jonny admitted. “It just puts half of your brain to sleep while the other half stays awake. That way when you wake up, you won’t be tired.”

  “Are you sure about this?” Breccan asked uncertainly.

  Jonny grinned and put the plug to the back of his skull. “More sure than I am of anything else in my life,” he replied. He slid the headset on and rested his head against the back of the chair. Within a minute, his head slumped to the side and his eyes closed.

  Breccan looked at the plug in his hand. It was made of black plastic with wires in the middle. Several of them appeared bent.

  Breccan sighed and muttered, “Here goes nothing.” He pushed the plug into the port at the base of his skull and put the headset on.

  A tingling sensation ran from Breccan’s port through his brain and down both of his arms. The thought that his missing arm felt just as real as his left one filled him with familiar bitterness. He shoved the thought aside and concentrated on the sensation that felt as though he had just touched an outlet with a fork. Thinking that perhaps the plug was faulty, he tried to lift his hand to take it out, but his arm wouldn’t respond. Before he could call for help, blackness swarmed through his vision.

  “What the….” Breccan mumbled thickly.

  He thought that maybe he should be alarmed, but he was unable to do more than watch the strange light that was flashing behind his eyes. He focused on it and watched it grow bigger and bigger until the darkness was blotted out completely.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Breccan stood in a white-walled room with a white ceiling and floor. He blinked and three forms materialized in front of him. As he watched, details filled in their faces, clothes, and the room around them. Jonny and his friends stood in white pants and white tee-shirts, with shoes that were also bland and colorless.

  “Look!” Murphy said.

  Everyone followed his gaze to Breccan’s side. A rush of amazement filled Breccan. He lifted his right hand. It responded fluidly. He opened and closed his fingers.

  “Whoa,” Jonny said as if he couldn’t contain himself. “There’re people in the Edge without an arm or a leg. I didn’t know….”

  “You didn’t know I would have it here,” Breccan finished in a quiet voice, afraid that if he said it louder, something in the Edge would realize he hadn’t been created correctly and his arm would disappear.

  “The Edge gives us the projection of how we view ourselves,” Minx said, her eyes wide. “Maybe since your injury wasn’t that long ago, you still picture yourself with your arm.”

  Breccan opened and closed his hand again. He couldn’t stop staring at it. It felt so real and so right; it was hard to believed he had lived without it since the accident.

  “What is this place?” he asked Jonny.

  “This is the Ready Room,” Jonny replied. He gestured to the doors on one side. “You get to go in there and design yourself.”

  “Design myself?” Breccan repeated.

  “Yeah,” Jonny continued. “It’s awesome. Create your avatar, the person you’re going to be while you’re here. If you like it enough, you can save it and use it again next time, even if you level up.” He walked toward a door along the wall. Three others just like it stood closed. “Just be sure to set a password nobody can guess in case your profile gets hacked.” He grinned sheepishly. “And don’t forget it. I did that once and lost a hundred ECs.”

  He disappeared through the door. Breccan stared at it, worried about all the things the boy had said that he didn’t understand.

  Minx gave a little shake of her head. “Don’t worry. It’s easy. Just go in that room and start picking options.”

  She and Murphy went through their own doors, leaving Breccan standing alone in the Ready Room.

  “Here goes nothing,” he said.

  He shoved down his nervousness and reached for the doorknob. He paused with his left hand halfway to it, then switched to his right instead. A smile touched his lips when he turned the doorknob and pulled the door open.

  The room in front of him was anything but white and empty like the one before. Instead, shelves, clothes racks, boxes, display cases, and rows of bookshelves stretched as far as he could see. He glanced to the right and then left. The stacks continued further than the edges of the room should have been considering Minx’s door.

  Breccan pushed the baffling thought aside and stepped forward.

  A full-length mirror hung from the front of the first set of shelves. A glance showed that he was dressed in the same white pants and tee-shirt the others had worn. He stared at himself, trying to accept the sight of his right arm back where it should be. For a moment, the image wavered with the sight of himself as he had been that morning before school. The arm of the black shirt he had tried on hung withered and conspicuously empty of the hand at his side. Breccan felt his arm tingle. He closed his eyes and shook his head, then stared at the mirror with desperation. The arm reappeared and the white clothes returned.

  Breccan spun away from the mirror and looked down at his arm. The sight of his right hand filled him with relief.

  “Whew. Not doing that again,” he muttered.

  He glanced at the shelves. The knowledge that Jonny and his friends would be waiting for him made Breccan hurry. He grabbed a black tee-shirt and a pair of jeans. The fact that everything was the right size wasn’t lost on him. Soaking in the feeling of being able to use his hand for even the simplest of tasks that had taken hours of practice to learn to do one-handed, Breccan buttoned the pants and quickly tied a pair of simple black sneakers. He pushed the door open and stopped short.

  Three strangers stared back at him.

  “Nice emo look. Depressed much?”

  Minx’s voice came out of the mouth of the tall man with rings in his ears who wore a pirate bandana, a leather vest, and camouflage pants. His eyes glowed an unearthly green and his hair was tipped with red.

  “Uh,
you’re Minx?” Breccan asked.

  The man looked around quickly. “Shhh. Don’t say my real name out here! What are you thinking?” Minx’s voice lowered to say, “In the Edge, I’m Black Jack.”

  “And I’m Rage Machine.”

  Breccan eyed the hulking giant of a man with biceps bigger than a regular human’s head, muscles bulging everywhere, and tattoos of every shape and style covering his skin.

  “What do you think?” Murphy asked, turning around to show off his avatar.

  “Nice shorts?” Breccan said.

  “Hey!” Murphy replied. He looked down at the tiny orange shorts that happened to be the only item of clothing his avatar wore.

  Minx burst out laughing, which sounded strange coming from the form of the pirate man. “You should have told him not to mention the shorts!” she said to the last guy.

  The final avatar was a modest looking man with elf-like ears and a blue bandana around his forehead. His face had stripes across it in war paint, and the vest he wore over his black shirt looked as though it contained every type of weapon Breccan had ever seen, and others he hadn’t. Knives had been strapped to the avatar’s leg, others to each forearm, and the grenades, guns, ropes, and even a slingshot made him look ready for any type of battle.

  “I should have,” the man said in Jonny’s voice. He lifted a shoulder. “Too late now.”

  “What’s wrong with my shorts?” Rage Machine asked in Murphy’s voice. He spun in a circle looking down, though Breccan doubted he could see anything past his huge pectoral muscles.

  “So what do I call you here?” Breccan asked his cousin.

  Jonny’s avatar gave a self-conscious smile and said, “Bullshark Venom.”

  Breccan fought back the urge to laugh. “But bull sharks don’t have venom.”

  Jonny sighed. “Yeah. I know. I created this avatar years ago when I didn’t know any better. Be careful when you choose a name. You can’t get rid of it without losing your avatar and any of the levels you achieved with it.”

  “Good to know,” Breccan replied. He glanced back at the door. “I guess I need to change things up a bit.”

  “You think?” Black Jack said in a deeper voice that sounded forced. “You still look like yourself. The point is to be who you want to be, not who you already are. Get back in there and come out with an avatar that can game!”

  Breccan closed the door behind him with Minx’s words still ringing in his ears. He looked at the rows upon rows of options and sighed. Creating an avatar wasn’t nearly as easy as it sounded.

  Breccan crossed to a box and started digging through it. His fingers brushed leather. He pulled the object out. A smile touched his lips at the look of the retro black jacket with a white and red stripe down the front. The jacket glitched under his touch, fading and reappearing even though he still felt as if he held it. It reminded Breccan that everything in the Edge was in his mind instead of reality. The thought was a bit unsettling.

  A basket appeared at his feet. It was identical to the plastic boxes with the metal handles that were stacked by the grocery store registers to make juggling shopping items easier back at home. Breccan picked it up and put the jacket inside before he continued to the next aisle.

  “Jaws,” he read aloud. He shoved the lid up on the labeled box and stumbled backwards at the sight. It was eerie to see over a dozen jaws stacked with the chins facing up. Some had scruff on them, others bore full-length beards complete with tassels. Breccan thought Minx should have used one of those on her pirate.

  “This is weird,” he said. Talking aloud to himself was something he had caught himself doing since Garrick’s death. When his mother had forced him to ask his psychiatrist about it, the man’s expression had let him know it wasn’t normal, but he refused to take the prescription that had followed. He looked around to see if anyone was there to laugh at him for it, but the room was empty. Breccan shook his head. “I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into.” He selected a jaw, put it in the basket with care that it didn’t touch the jacket, and moved on.

  “Hair. Awesome.” Breccan looked down the long aisle. Hairstyles ranging from green spiked mohawks to friar cuts to pierced and tattooed scalps ran so far down the room he couldn’t see the end. Knowing his friends would be waiting, Breccan chose one of the milder styles and stuck it in his basket.

  Shoes were easy. He grabbed a pair of simple kicks that would be good for whatever he met in the strange new world. Pants and a plain gray shirt followed, along with a white bandana. Breccan paused at the next aisle and had to fight back the urge to turn around and leave. When he did move, the hundreds of eyes staring at him from the blank mannequin faces followed his movements eerily.

  The hair stood up on his arms when he took a step to the right and the eyes shifted to look at him. “That’s just creepy,” he muttered. He grabbed one of the closest pairs and tossed them in the basket as he hurried past.

  The next aisle was full of masks. Jonny and his friends hadn’t chosen to wear one. Breccan figured he should leave well enough alone and was about to walk to the next aisle when something caught his eye. A smile touched his lips that was echoed by the teeth of a skeleton grin. Intrigued, Breccan picked the mask up. It was only a half-mask of pale leather made to fit over the lower part of a face. He frowned slightly when he flipped it over to look at the back side. When he turned it around again, he nearly dropped it. The skeleton smile had also turned into a toothy frown.

  “Cool,” Breccan whispered. He set the mask in the basket and was about to head back when the wall across from the aisle caught his eye. He walked closer.

  Rows upon rows of tattoos of every shape, size, style, and color lined the shelves. Small vials along the bottom drew his attention. Breccan crouched and read, “Skin tint.”

  He picked up a vial and turned it over in his hand. A thick liquid the color of coffee coated the inside. The vial next to it was purple. Breccan picked up a green one. The thought of stepping out to greet Jonny and his friends with green skin was tempting for the shock value, but his cousin’s warning that details couldn’t be changed made him put it back. He grabbed a milder tone and set it in the basket before rising to look at the tattoos.

  Coming from the small town of Kirik Reservoir, he had never been tempted to get a tattoo. Anything out of the ordinary was frowned upon and custom was something that had been ingrained into him just by being raised there. But he wasn’t in Kirik anymore, and he didn’t know when, if ever, they would be going back.

  The thought made Breccan reach for a set of initials. He selected four letters and added them to his basket. Another set of vials near the letters told of the rainbow of colors he could get the tattoos done in. He almost reached for black, but stopped with his fingers raised. His gaze shifted across glitter options, glow-in-the-dark, white, ultra-violet, and neon, before he saw the last option.

  “Mood ink,” the vial proclaimed. A glance at the back showed that the tattoo would change colors according to his mood. The thought struck Breccan as interesting. Maybe if he couldn’t decide how he felt about the Edge, the tattoo could tell him. He tossed the vial in the basket and made his way to the front of the strange room.

  A large box had appeared sometime during his browsing. It was glass in the front with a place to put his basket. It looked like an old-fashioned vending machine.

  Breccan slid the basket into the slot. A glass screen slid down in front of the basket, locking it in. A chime sounded and the glass door swung open. Breccan eyed the machine carefully. The thought of Jonny and his friends waiting outside made Breccan take a calming breath and step in.

  “Don’t move,” a monotone voice said.

  A hissing sound met Breccan’s ears before a cloud of white steam began to fill the box. The fear that he might be trapped within a malfunctioning avatar creation chamber made Breccan lift a hand toward the door.

  “Don’t move,” the monotone voice repeated.

  Breccan lowered his hand and closed hi
s eyes. His heart pounded in his chest. Only the reminder that he was actually sitting in a chair in a windowless room in Holram City made him stay still. He was in no danger. Although, he had no idea what would happen to him if he died in the Edge. He made a mental note to ask Jonny if he got out.

  A tingling sensation ran over his skin.

  “Exit now,” the monotone voice said.

  The door gave a quiet pop and swung open. The steam escaped as Breccan opened his eyes. He glanced down and saw that he was wearing the clothes he had picked out. Everything had happened far faster than he had anticipated.

  Breccan reached to push the door open wider and paused at the sight of the tattooed initials across the back of his right hand. The tattoo was dark blue for the moment. He wondered what mood that meant he was in. Unfortunately, the vial hadn’t contained any type of guide.

  “Exit now,” the monotone voice repeated.

  Breccan stepped out of the box. The moment both of his feet were on the ground, a pop sounded behind him. He glanced back and then stared at the empty space where the box had been.

  “Welcome to the Edge,” the voice said from right behind him.

  Breccan spun around, but nobody was there.

  “H-hello?” he asked aloud.

  The voice didn’t speak again. Instead, a full-length mirror appeared near the door. Breccan crossed to it and stared at himself.

  His avatar’s skin was tanner than his own; he had bright blue eyes instead of green, stronger cheekbones, and a well-defined jaw with just enough beard stubble to look tough and not scruffy. He liked that it made him look older. His hair was thick and black instead of the cowlicked brown hair he and Garrick had inherited from their dad. He ran a hand through it and was amazed at how real it felt.

  It was strange to look in the mirror and see the avatar’s handsome face instead of his own. While he had always considered himself on a level playing field with the other guys at his school, he bet girls wouldn’t have given any of them a second glance if his avatar had been around. A sheepish smile crossed his face at the thought. He slid the mask up from where it had been hanging around his neck and the smile was echoed by the skeleton teeth.