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Walking down the alley, I looked for the brick with the X on it. It had been painted with black light paint, so I used the app on my phone to scan over all the bricks. I wasn’t sure if they would make it a real big X or if it would be tiny, and I didn’t want to miss it if it was.
Finding it halfway down, I pulled it out, where a key card slot was now revealed. Taking the card that Blackhawk had given me, I slid it in, holding my breath that it would work. I nearly jumped with joy when it beeped green a few seconds later. The door hissed open, and I tugged at it, amazed at how it pulled away from the other bricks. They’d done an excellent job of making it appear as part of the wall.
Stepping into the dark corridor, I suddenly felt dread hit me that maybe I should’ve told someone where I was. Just another reckless decision I kept making for the books. Huh, that was funny, considering I was in a bookstore.
Strolling through the store, I shook off my dark thoughts as my whole body came alive with energy at the realization I was closer than I’d ever been to finding him. This could be it, the night I had my vengeance and got to return to my family. Maybe it was that giddy deliriousness that had me not watching my steps.
As soon as I stepped over the threshold into the store, a loud sound erupted, something popping over my head seconds before I was covered in a liquid. A squeal left me as I sputtered. I stood, frozen, not sure what had just happened.
“Tsk, Tsk, little hacker. You’re gonna have to up your game if you want to catch me. Better luck next time, babe,” a recording said, playing through the speakers.
I blinked, wiping the wetness from my eyes. “What is it with people dumping shit on me today?” I screamed, my frustration coming out at last. Thank God I’d left my computer at the hotel this time. If I had destroyed two in one day, I would call it quits. Computer endangerment and all that.
Lights began to flicker in a pattern, annoying me even more. When I realized it was morse code, I ran over to the counter, grabbing the first thing I could find that I could write on. Which happened to be a roll of register paper, but it would work. Grabbing the pen, I started to write the dots and dashes down. It began to repeat after about a minute, so I stopped, staring at it. I guess this was my next clue.
I smiled, feeling alive in a whole new way. This was what we’d excelled at together. Back before, he betrayed me and broke my heart.
FINLEY, AGE 17
Blackhawk: Okay, little hacker, if you were deserted on an island, who and what would you take with you?
Oblivion: I’d obviously take that nature survivalist guy and a big machete. No one would mess with me with Beer and a big knife.
Blackhawk: Ah, babe, you’re so cute. You don’t even realize it.
Blackhawk: Also, wise choice, but he might take offense if you call him Beer.
Oblivion: What? Why? Isn’t that his name?
Blackhawk: No, little hacker. I’ll wait.
My cheeks flamed, but I couldn’t deny how happy I was either. Blackhawk made me feel seen in a way I never had before. Googling, I quickly realized my mistake.
Oblivion: Well, I think it would be a joke between us because we’d be such good chums. Bear wouldn’t mind at all.
Blackhawk: I could see that. You’re probably right.
Blackhawk: You ready for a new puzzle? I’ve been working on it.
Oblivion: Oh, yes, give me! But first… I have a truth for a truth for you.
Blackhawk: Hit me with it. I live for these.
Oblivion: I feel sad for you if that’s true.
Oblivion: Okay, my truth is that I sometimes hate that my brother gets to act broody, and my parents accept it, but if I show any emotion that isn’t pleasant, I’m called out. I don’t begrudge my brother, he lost someone too, but I hate that he’s allowed to actually grieve it while I’m told to smile.
Blackhawk: That’s understandable that you would feel that way, little hacker. I don’t know the whole story, but I know how close to this person you were. It’s not fair that you can’t grieve however you see fit.
Oblivion: Thank you, that means a lot knowing I’m not crazy.
Blackhawk: Okay, I’ll give you a truth somewhat similar. I kind of had the opposite thing. Everyone told me to feel sad when my mom died, but I didn’t. She was abusive and consistently high. I was relieved. That’s horrible of me, but it was how I felt.
Oblivion: So basically, people need to keep their feelings to themselves and quit telling us how to feel?
Blackhawk: Yep. That sounds about right.
Oblivion: Thanks for the laugh. Now, send me the puzzle. I’m eager to crack this one to prove to you my superiority.
