90 DEADLY DAYS (WEEKLY UPDATES RETURNING THIS DECEMBER)

Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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"Xaro."

I snuggle deeper into my sheets. But they're gone and in place of my bed rests a hard chair. Straight ahead lies a movie screen. It's blank and static, but something far away calls me closer. Even stranger, I find that I can't resist the monotone voice.

Slowly my legs move from my chair and clomp down the aisle in a death trance. Minutes feel like seconds and soon, I'm standing in front of the screen. My hand hesitantly reaches out and I gently tap the projection board with the tip of my index finger. Faster than a snap I'm whisked away down a psychedelic vacuum.

It ends in a room quite like my school's headmaster's. Bookcases line the walls and the smell of molding pages fills my nose. It's comforting. A dying succulent rests on a table located in one of the room's corners. Since when could succulents die?

The suction deposits me on the floor. When I look back, the tunnel I came through has vanished. As my fingers dig into velvet purple carpet I blink, trying to determine if this is a dream. When nothing happens I roll my eyes twice and blink, the trick that somehow managed to get me out of childhood nightmares.

Nothing happens.

I am just about to pinch myself when I catch sight of a gleaming half sphere on the center of the desk an arms length away. I stand to peer at the mini diorama covered by clear glass. The resemblance to Helion is remarkable. Little houses dot the sprawling, luxurious plains outside the city. In the city center, gleaming silver and royal blue metals adorn the face of every skyscraper. Greenery's been tucked onto every available street corner, brightening up the urban spread. Looking closer, I realize that it is, in fact, an exact replica.

There's Jarvy's Mouthwatering Donuts next to Central Park. The boxing gym Kerry frequented is across from the Mable's Karate school. Helion High looks about five minutes from our penthouse.

"What is this?" I say, almost repulsed. The answer comes in the form of a plaque in front of the replica, the gold lettering on the plaque catching light coming through large windows opening to a view of desert sands.

Simulated nursery, it reads.

"This is where you live," a voice says.

I gasp and stumble back, almost tripping over my own feet.

"Who are you?" I turn around. The sound of panicked breathing is the only response, and after listening closer I realize it's my own. Sweat beads on my temples and fear snakes its way around my chest. I dig wildly through the room, searching for a weapon. The closest thing is a metallic dog paperweight on the desk.

My fingers wrap around it. With the metal securely in my hand, I lift my voice. "What is Xaro?"

The room floods with light, so much that I can't see anything else. The next thing I hear is the call of vultures, their eerie laughs echoing around me. As the light fades I find myself standing on a barren plane with car-sized craters and blackened tree stumps stretching for as far as I can see. Gusts of wind slap my face and beat my mane of curly hair back.

There's civilization in the far distance. The tops of rusted shacks litter the skyline.

"That's Xaro?"

There's no response.

"So this is Xaro," I piece everything I've learned together. "And Helion is a simulated nursery. What does that even mean?"

Before I can take another breath I'm whisked back to the office. This time next to the gleaming half sphere lies a hologram screen, on it a grim-faced woman. Several lines press into the corners of her mouth and eyes, making her seem permanently on edge. Her fingers remind me of old crow's feet. I press a green button on the desk. I think that's the universal button for play.