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Blackhawk: Hey, little hacker, boys your age are dumb. Just saying.
Oblivion: Still convinced I’m a kid?
Blackhawk: No, but I know you’re still younger than me.
Oblivion: Good thing we’re just friends then. That’s allowed, right?
Blackhawk: Sure thing, little hacker.
Blackhawk: I’ll send you Chaos info. I’ve never talked to him, but I hear things, and he’s good. Some brainiac already through school.
Oblivion: Thank you.
Blackhawk signed off.
PRESENT DAY
Staring at the screen, I blinked the memory away, not needing to add the loss and deception of my first real friends to the mix. Looking at my computer, it was almost sinister how it looked the same on the outside, but nothing remained the same on the inside. Kind of eerie how I was the same. Trying for the billionth time, I hit the on button, but nothing happened.
“Screw it,” I sighed, closing the lid.
Pulling out my burner phone, I texted Blackhawk that I had an unfortunate computer malfunction, but I had the envelope and to let me know what he wanted me to do with it. I tossed the phone down as I laid back on the bed, and debated the same thing I did every night.
Was I making a mistake? It felt like it at this point. I had nothing to show for my efforts.
Maybe I had pushed all the blame onto him? These earlier memories of our friendship were clouding my judgment, making it difficult to remember the hurt and pain at the end. This was the problem with pushing your emotions down. You almost forgot the part that hurt.
Picking up my phone, I rolled over to my stomach and opened the cloud storage app I had. My thumb hovered over the photos icon and I clicked it, deciding a little pain might do me good.
Pictures of Asa and me, Sawyer and the BOSH crew, our time at TAS filled my screen as I flicked through them. When the album was done, it automatically opened the next one and I froze as screenshots filled the screen. My mental shields were down, my security blanket gone, allowing the flashback to take over before I could stop it.
FINLEY, AGE 16
Obsidian: Check the news.
Oblivion: Why? What’s going on?
Obsidian: Just do it. I’ll wait.
Rolling my eyes, I minimized the chat and clicked a new tab on the browser. My fingers hesitated as I tried to figure out what news source I should look up. Deciding to do a broad search, I typed in the local station and opened them in one tab, and one of the national news channels in another. Opening them both, I didn’t have to scroll down far to find what I assumed he was talking about.
A building was on fire, and it was surrounded by emergency vehicles. Clicking on the video, I watched as the crews rushed to put it out to no avail. When a part of the structure fell, two people rushed out, a body slung over the arm of one of them. The reporter began talking and I only paid attention to parts of it as I searched the video for whatever clue Obsidian was referring to. He liked to send me tests to see if I could figure it out, so I had to assume this was one of those instances.
“... a teen body found… believed to be a club initiation… broken into… files stolen.”
When the reporter said something about files, I zeroed in on her, giving her all of my focus. That was when I saw it, the tagline under her name.
Possible arson at the Magnolia House. An abandoned homeless shelter.
Bile rose up, and I pushed back my chair as I raced toward the bathroom. I managed to make it to the toilet as I heaved up my lunch and most of yesterday’s contents as well.
“No, no, no, no, no,” I cried, rocking back and forth. This couldn’t be happening.
“Fin?” Henry yelled, stepping into my room. Quickly, I wiped my eyes and flushed the toilet, ridding it of my shame.
“Just a minute,” I shouted, splashing some water on my face. It was time to be the perfect sister, not a possible homicidal hacker.
PRESENT DAY
