Chapter Twenty-Two: Crash

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Crash opened his eyes, a camping lantern the only source of light in the room. The group sat around the light, playing a game of cards. He smiled and sat up, rubbing a hand over his face.

"How long was I out?" he asked. His brain was in a fog.

Everyone gasped and stood, coming to stand or sit beside him. Noah grabbed a bottle of cold water from the mini-fridge and handed it to him.

"About sixteen hours," Noah said. "How are you feeling?"

The cold water was so nice on his dry throat. He felt like he'd been run over by a truck.

He'd been running the power and computers for weeks without any real side effects. Sure, he sometimes got tired and had to down a few energy drinks to keep going. Sometimes in the early days of the virus, he'd slept for twelve or thirteen hours at a stretch after staying up all night working, but he'd never passed out like that before.

"As bad as I look, I'm guessing," he said. "Sorry about the power. Is everything okay?"

He looked at Parrish, remembering everything that happened last night. Damn. He had really hoped they'd find out the girl was still alive. They needed some good news these days.

"I'm sorry about your sister," he said.

She nodded. "Thanks," she said. "And thank you for doing what you did. I know it took a lot out of you to stretch your powers so far. At least now I know the truth."

"I wish it had been a better truth," he said.

"Me too."

Silence filled the room at the mention of the little girl who had lost her life in New York. He didn't know her, but no child should have to die like that. The world was seriously messed up.

"So are we going to talk about that explosion now?" Karmen asked.

His mouth dropped open. "What's going on?"

He tried to stand, but the room spun and his stomach lurched.

"Whoa, buddy, take it easy," Noah said. "You might want to just chill on the couch for a little while. Can I get you something to eat?"

Crash took a deep breath and blinked several times to clear his vision. "Wow, I guess that call took more out of me than I expected," he said. "Yeah, if you could grab some crackers out of the cabinet, that would be great. They're in the kitchen on the far left."

Noah returned in a minute with a sleeve of plain saltine crackers. Crash's mom used to make him eat these when he was sick, and they always made him feel better. Man, he really missed his mom.

She had passed away several years ago, leaving him alone in the world at the age of fifteen.

The state put him in foster care, but it wasn't too long before he ran away. He took some of the money his mom had stashed in the bottom of her dresser and paid for a fake ID that said he was eighteen. He dropped out of high school and disappeared before anyone could come looking for him.

He hadn't had much back then, but he'd eventually rented this crappy apartment, bought a used computer, and hooked up with a couple other gamers online. When you were desperate, there were ways to make a decent living gaming if you knew the right tricks. He'd grown really good at creating characters on popular MMORPG's like World of Warcraft and Everquest II. He'd grind them up to max level and then sell the accounts on ebay for good cash.

He'd gotten by, investing any extra money he had in new computers and monitors. When the dreams had started, he'd switched to spending his money on building a supply of bottled water and food.

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