The Annihilation of Foreverland (27 page)

Danny wanted to flee. Everything about the island was wrong, but in the presence of the Director, it all made sense. The body was a prison. The mind was freedom. When he was inside the needle, there was nothing he couldn’t do. Why was that less real than his flesh? He was still Danny Boy.

The Director picked up a handful of rocks and pitched them one at a time over the edge. “You went out into the Nowhere with the girl. She’s been teaching you to be bad, Danny Boy. She gave you access to our mainframe and you escaped.”

He peeked back.

“Didn’t you, son?”

Danny didn’t answer. There was no need to make it any worse. Now for the punishment.

“You’re a true pioneer, Danny Boy.” He threw the last rock as far as he could, grunting. “I tell all the boys they’re a pioneer, but you are true-blue, Danny Boy. Amazing.”

The Director smiled and laughed.

“You did something I never knew possible. You transformed yourself into pure mind. You became data without losing your identity. You were still Danny Boy. And I never thought that was possible, son. Always, I believed, the mind was rooted in the brain, it needed the physical body or it dispersed into random thoughts.”

“The Nowhere. Is that what became of the boys before me?”

“Some of them. But you, Danny Boy. You went into the Nowhere and remained Danny Boy. She knew, didn’t she? She knew you’d survive being out there, and once you did, you embraced it. You became it. And you were set free.”

“How do you know her?”

“I know everything.” He nodded, slowly. “Everything.”

Danny walked back to the scrawny shade of trees and leaned against one, bending it with his weight. The waves crashed far below.

It’s over.

“Is that why you brought me here? To throw me over the edge? Is that what you do with people like me and Reed, throw them in the ocean?”

Laughter. “Son, you don’t understand what you’ve done. You’ve created an inner reality beyond the needle. Until now, all the boys were limited to Foreverland. Danny Boy, you created a new reality. A new dimension. I want
to follow you out of the flesh
. I want you to lead us to a new dimension of existence. Show us Nirvana, son. Bring us to the world of pure mind.”

“You’re wrong,” Danny said. “I’m just a hacker. I just created an illusion, no different than a video game.”

“We make our own reality.” The Director touched his head. “With our minds.”

“The reality you create with your mind, Director… that’s the definition of delusion.”

The Director shook the handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his forehead, wiped his mouth. He went back to the ledge and put his hands on hips, losing himself in the view.

The cloudless blue sky.

Deep blue water.

Violent collisions on the boulders.

“They want you out, Danny Boy.” The Director didn’t turn around but said it loud enough for him to hear it. “You, Reed and Zin… you know what that means, don’t you?”

Danny didn’t want to answer. A lump swelled in his throat. Despite the anger burning his spine, fear had the trump card when it came to survival.

“The program is a delicate thing, Danny Boy. It has balance. When a candidate is rebellious, it tips the scales. These men have a lot invested in you boys. A lot of time, a lot of money. They don’t want to see the program come down, a lot of people will get hurt. And sometimes it makes sense to sacrifice a few to save many.”

Danny was sure that he had thrown people from the cliff. There was no doubt. It was neat and clean to crush them on the rocks and let the fish destroy the evidence. Not that anyone would find a body even if it was staked to the side of the cliff. This was the Director’s island. He was judge and jury.

The Director strode away from the ledge in a meandering sort of way, head down with his fingers buried in his beard, scratching the hidden chin. He knelt at the edge of the trees and broke off a branch, twirled it.

“But I see something in you and Reed.” He looked up. “Something this program needs, Danny Boy.”

He walked over, looked down.

“I need you to show us what it can become.”

The stem spun between his fingers like a helicopter stick with green blades. He plucked one of the leaves and crushed it in his palm, cupped it over his nose and inhaled with his eyes closed, savoring the fragrance.

“Take this.” He put the leaves in Danny’s hand and closed it. “Steep it in hot water for five minutes and give it to Reed. It’ll relieve his suffering. He’ll find peace.”

“How do I know it won’t kill him?”

The Director bit the tip off one of the leaves and chewed. “If I wanted him dead, I wouldn’t send you to do it.”

Danny put the leaves in his pocket.

The Director went back to the tabletop stone where he had his epiphany and leaped up. He stretched back with his hands on his hips, once again gazing at the view.

“This is your last chance to get Reed inside the needle, Danny Boy. The Investors are powerful men. I can only do so much.”

He sat down and crossed his legs into a pretzel. His back was straight, his hands in his lap, he closed his eyes. Breathing, in and out.

Danny left him there so he could become one with the view. He had some tea to make.

Danny sat at the picnic table. A plastic cup was in front of him. The water had turned light green with shredded foliage floating on top. He fished them out – one by one – with a stick, steam wafting out. Occasionally, he’d look at the door at the end of the dormitory where an empty golf cart was parked parallel with the building.

The tea smelled like diluted turpentine. He put the cup to his lips, not too hot to drink. The aroma made his eyes water. He didn’t sip. He wanted to save all of it.

The dormitory door opened. Mr. Smith limped to his cart and slid on the seat. Danny waited a few minutes before going inside, taking the cup with him.

The door was locked.

He should’ve known it. Mr. Smith knew he was coming back. Danny tried the door knob again, turning it with both hands, then put his shoulder into it. There was nothing in the hall, nothing like a fire extinguisher or a baseball bat to bash the knob off.

He went back to his room, looking for something heavy. The only thing was the sink. He could get that off the wall and drive a hole through the door big enough to crawl through. But that was only going to make things worse. Reed would be locked away in vault. Danny would never see him again. Maybe a rock on the doorknob could get it open without too much notice. There would be something at the beach.

He left his room—

Zin was on his knees, poking wires into the lock. It clicked. The door swung open.

“I told you I remembered everything,” he said.

The room smelled like dirty socks rolled in bacon. The lights were out. There was a lump on the bed.

At least it wasn’t convulsing.

Danny closed the door, quietly. He knelt next to the bed and put his hand on the lump.

“Reed.” He shook him. “I need you to drink this.”

No response. He shook him harder. Maybe he was finally sleeping and Danny was messing him all up. But he shook, anyway.

“Come on, man. Wake up.”

On the fourth try – one more and he would quit – Reed rolled over. His hair, matted to the side of his face. His face, caved beneath the cheekbones.

“It’s Danny Boy,” Danny said. “Drink this, man. It’ll make you feel better.”

The tea was still warm. Reed tried to lift his head.

Danny reached under the pillow and picked his head up. Reed’s hands were somewhere under the blankets. Danny lifted the cup to his lips. Reed was on the edge of convulsions. He winced and tried to pull away. Danny wouldn’t let him, pouring the astringent water into his parted lips. It spilled down his chin but he swallowed – against his will – until it was all gone.

He dropped back down, breathing heavy. His eyes closed.

Danny could’ve stopped this from happening to Reed if he just called for help. It was his fault they were still on the island. His fault they might never leave. Reed could be in a proper hospital with medicine and doctors, not sunk into a sweaty mattress. He’d die on the next round.

If he makes it that long
.

He sat there a while longer. Reed slept.

“Hey, come on.” Zin stuck his head in the room. “Let’s go already.”

Danny left. He looked back. There were no more quivering.

Danny followed the path out to the tabletop cliff for more leaves, then remained there until the end of the day. He snuck into the cafeteria late at night and stocked up on food, eating in his room. He was back out to the tabletop cliff before the sun was up, watching the water catch fire beneath the sun’s burning rise.

He returned with more tea. Reed didn’t shake as much. He lifted his head on his own, drank more than he spilled. The room still smelled like a corpse. Reed still looked like one.

It was the third day he brought tea that Reed was sitting up.

“Get me out of here.”

Zin and Danny walked across the Yard. Reed was between them, a hand on each shoulder. His shirt fluttered like a sheet thrown over bones. His skin was something like the yellow of old parchment.

People stopped what they were doing to watch.

“Mind your own business,” Danny shouted. That only made it worse.

It was a relief to reach the beach. Reed was exhausted. He sat back, the sun on his face.

“Give me some time,” he said.

So they did. When they came back to get him, he was still in the same spot. They walked back to the dormitory. He draped his arms over them, dragging his feet. They carried him to his room. The window was open. The stink still lingered. They carried him over to Danny’s room so he didn’t have to sleep in the smell. It had sunk into his clothes.

Mr. Jones was inside. “Where have you been, Danny Boy?”

“Helping Reed.” They dropped him on the bed. Zin picked his legs up, put them on the bed.

“This is not appropriate. Mr. Smith will want him in his own room.”

“The bed is ruined. He needs some rest before they kill him.”

Danny arranged the pillow so Reed’s head wasn’t at an odd angle. Zin pulled the sheet over him. Mr. Jones watched them close the curtain.

“I’ll be in Zin’s room,” Danny called.

Mr. Jones followed them out, stopped them from closing Zin’s door. “Danny Boy, I don’t like what’s going on.”

“Yeah, neither do I.”

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Mr. Jones said.

“You go first.” Danny held onto to the doorknob, waiting. Mr. Jones had the sense that someone much older than a thirteen year old boy was looking back. “I’ll see you when the next round starts,” Danny said.

The door closed.

Mr. Jones suppressed the urge to pound on the door. The insolence. The disrespect.

He tried to have compassion for these boys’ plight. They were confused and distressed. They needed space to process everything. But something was going on and he didn’t like it. He felt the need to slap Danny, knock some sense into him. But he didn’t want to upset the program. Any more stress and it would only slow things down. Besides, there were signs Danny was wearing down. Soon, he’d come close to graduating.

He just had to be patient.

Reed was different.

Perhaps he needed to consult with Mr. Smith. He’d been here longer than Mr. Jones. He’d know what to expect from Danny. Besides, he should know what they were doing with Reed.

Mr. Jones lived on the west wing. His penthouse was an apartment with enough square footage for a family of four. Even so, he only lived in a small portion of it to cut down on cleaning and cooking.

He walked down the empty hallway, rounding the corner in the foyer onto the veranda. The chairs were still arranged in a half-circle from their meeting with the Director. There would be another soon, he believed.

Mr. Smith paddled on top a floating board in the swimming pool. Mr. Jones went to the end of the pool. Mr. Smith grabbed the ledge and looked up.

“I would like a word,” Mr. Jones said. “I don’t trust what’s going on. The Director, the boys… they have things on their mind.”

“You believe they’re planning an escape?”

Mr. Jones shook his head. “I think we should cancel the next round and call another meeting. Maybe the boys need to be reset.”

“Everything is back on track. They have Sid ready to graduate. Besides, I don’t have time to start over, Mr. Jones. The clock is ticking for this old man. It’s now or never.”

Cancer is an impatient foe
.

“Have you seen Reed?” Mr.
Jones
said. “You might live longer than him.”

“He’s young, Mr. Jones.” He floated on his back, spitting water. “His body can recover once he gives it up. There’s nothing I can do about this body.”