Player nodded, his breath coming too fast. His chest hurt. He rubbed over his pounding heart. “But you didn’t see the aftermath.” His voice was very low. Ashamed. Guilt-ridden. I never told you what happens after.”
Czar’s gaze instantly locked onto his face. “What happens after, Player?”
Player swallowed down bile. He wanted to look away from those piercing eyes. Czar could always see people for who they were. He could see into souls. Why hadn’t he seen all the blood on Player’s soul?
“If I hold the illusion too long, past the point where my brain can manage, reality begins to intrude. An alternate reality. In that case, I saw Sorbacov turn his head and look at us just before we went through the door. My head was pounding. We made it down to the dungeon. All of you were celebrating, but I was still locked into that place and I couldn’t get out of it. It had happened to me before, more than once, and I knew it could be dangerous. I didn’t want to bring him down there, to see everyone, even if it would be under slightly different circumstances.”
Czar hitched forward, steepling his fingers, clearly trying to understand. “Keep going.”
Player searched for the right words, trying to make Czar see the very real dangers. “Whatever is happening in the illusion is just an illusion, like the wall. But in the reality, that shit is the real deal. If Sorbacov is present, if someone has a gun, those things are real. That night, Sorbacov was angry that he didn’t catch us in the act, and he was certain we were the ones who had killed that bloated pig of an instructor.”
“He came down to the dungeon to check on us,” Czar said. “We knew he would. We had everything in place. Code had the cameras working, appearing as if nothing had interrupted them. I remember looking at you, and you were definitely stressed. Covered in sweat. Very unusual for you.”
“Because the reality was something I could barely control.”
Czar shook his head. “We knew he would come down to check on us.”
“Think back, Czar. That’s not true. Sorbacov wasn’t supposed to be there that night. That’s the reason you put the green light on killing Matrix.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Matrix had a huge fight with the math teacher that morning. Every one of the other teachers knew about it. No one was going to blame a bunch of kids who were so torn up we could barely move. That’s what you’d said to us.”
It was Czar’s turn to get up and pace across the room. “You’re right. Sorbacov had a big meeting to go to that night. We targeted Matrix because he had already hurt so many of the girls in the school and he was looking at Alena and Lana. We knew it was only a matter of time before he went after them.” Czar turned to look at him. “Why is it I didn’t remember that, Player, when I never forget details?”
“It was very real, Czar. Sorbacov really did come down to confront us. Code really did fix the cameras to cover us. I made certain of it. I orchestrated it in my reality.”
“That’s why you kept Sorbacov’s attention on you.”
Player nodded slowly. “It was my fuckup and my mistake to fix. I could have gotten all of you killed.”
“Instead, he took you to his rooms and returned you in the worst shape I’d ever seen you in,” Czar said and slumped down in the chair, scrubbing both hands over his face.
There was a small silence. “I build bombs in my head when things get too crazy for me. It’s a harmless pastime, like counting for other people,” Player said. “At least, it started out that way. I’ve always done it. When Sorbacov would give me to his friends, I’d lose myself in my head by building the bombs. I’d just go there, and sometimes by the time I’d built several, it would be over. I wouldn’t even remember how many he’d given me to or how many times someone beat me with a whip. I just built the bombs.”
Czar waited, his piercing gaze once more jumping to Player’s face.
“When this happened to me”—Player indicated the bandana covering the wound on his head—“my brain was really fractured. I started having nightmares. Then I have an illusion. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. You know how much I despise that illusion and why. That’s when the alternate reality creeps in. I am always sitting on that little bench Sorbacov would make me sit on when he’d lay the materials out on the table and press his pocket watch. At first it would be the White Rabbit there. Then Sorbacov. I’d be putting together the bomb. Only it wasn’t a bomb I’d ever put together before. I didn’t recognize the materials or the way it was supposed to be put together.”
“Steele healed your injury.”
“But the migraines have persisted. They’ve gotten worse, and so have the nightmares. With the nightmares come the illusions.” He rubbed his forehead and met Czar’s eyes, showing him it wasn’t a joke. This was very real and dangerous. “The thing is, I see in patterns, Czar. I can look at things, at the materials, and I just know how they work. I began to build a bomb even though I’d never seen that type before. Sorbacov was always shadowy. At first, I was slow and didn’t finish. Zyah would come in and stop the entire process. She has a tremendous talent, and she puts my mind back together, so to speak. She stays with me the rest of the night and the nightmare doesn’t come back.”
Czar frowned. “This happens every night?”
Player nodded. “Every damn night. In the beginning, it would happen sometimes during the day, but not anymore. But I’m faster at putting the bomb together. And it’s too real. Others in the house can hear it ticking. I know it’s real. Sometimes, lately, I can feel someone watching me. Zyah can feel them as well.”
Czar sat back in the chair and regarded him over his steepled fingers. “How close are you to finishing the bomb?”
“Too damn close. I worry for everyone. And that’s not all.” He had to finish it. He glanced toward the door, hating the feeling he was betraying Zyah. “I would be dead if it wasn’t for Zyah. She’s been with me every night. She knows the threat, and she refused to let me leave. She says she has this gut feeling—and has had it all along—that she needs to be with me. Steele has the same feeling. But we’re connected in this very strong way.”
“Anyone can see that, Player.” There was a trace of amusement in Czar’s voice.
Player shook his head. “I wish it was just that. It’s much more. Much more intimate. She’s in my head. She has to be in order to chase out the bomb making.”
Immediately, Czar’s all-too-intelligent eyes narrowed, and Player’s heart sank. He knew Czar would comprehend what he was saying. He went doggedly on.
“She sees my memories. My childhood. She knows the things I’ve done. I was straight with her, Czar, about what that could buy her, but even knowing, she came here with me.”
There was silence. Outside, the wind blew, a soft moaning sound that echoed through his heart. A branch slid across the side of the house.
“How much does she know?”
Just the quiet in Czar’s voice told Player everything he needed to know.
“Our childhood. Our training. That we were used as assets for our country. No details on anyone but me. Obviously only my memories. But she knows we aren’t saints even now.” He wasn’t going to lie. “She’s mine, Czar, and I’ll stand for her.”