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“Wait, you’re using a different computer? Connected an outside computer to your network?” he asked, in a way that made it very clear there was something wrong with that.
“I… yeah. My laptop that usually stays at my office, but I don’t understand—”
“Sandy,” he interrupted sharply. “Is your mic on, on the laptop?”
“No, it’s muted, since we’re talking on the phone.”
“Maybe,”he muttered, then pushed out a sigh. “Alright, listen to me. Turn off your laptop,now.”
I was confused, but I did as he asked, even though my mind was overflowing with questions. “Okay, now what?”
“Now I need you to go in your office, and unplug your computer, your modem, your router, everything.”
“My computer isn’t evenonright now though.”
“Sandy, justdo it,” he demanded, and I sucked my teeth.
“I’m not doing anything until you tell me what the hell is going on!”
“You’re being hacked,” he shot back. “I’m watching it happen now, because whoever is doing it tried to accessmycomputer while we were connected.”
I shook my head. “What? What do mean you’re watching it? We aren’t connected anymore.”
“Whoever tried it didn’t know who they were fucking with,” Wick answered, with an arrogant edge that made me frown. “I hacked their asses back, but they don’t know. There was probably a trojan horse on your work computer. As soon as you gave it access to your home network, you gave access to everything.”
“How do you evenknowthis?!” I demanded. “Who the fuck are you?”
“We gotta get off the phone, Sandy. If you’re on your home wifi, they’re probably in that too. But listen - get a pen or something so you can write this down,” he said, ignoring my question.
Still feeling flustered and confused, I grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper from the notepad I kept by the bed to jot down new polish names that I thought of in the middle of the night. I took down the business name and address he gave me, then stared at it for several long moments.
“Tomorrow,” he told me, in a rushed tone. “Take all your stuff there, your laptop, your phone, your computer. He’s an old colleague of mine, and I trust him. Tell him you need any spyware, keystroke loggers, all of that, gone. And depending on what kind of information was on your work computer, maybe the police.”
“Who should I tell him sent me?” I asked, trying to stay calm. “What’s your name?”
“You don’t need that. Just tell him what you need to be done. We gotta get off this line, okay? And don’t discuss anything sensitive on this phone until you’ve had it looked at, alright?”
I scoffed. “I don’t know if this—”
“Alright?”
I let out a short huff. “Alright. Fine.”
“Okay. And Sandy?”
“Yeah.”
“… stay safe.”
The total silence after that told me that he’d hung up the line, after delivering two words that left me feeling the exact opposite of the sentiment. I dropped the phone and looked around, suddenly feeling as if I was being watched – a sensation that only intensified when I looked at the address he’d given me again.
It was in my city.
How thefuckdid he know where I lived? And if he knew that, there was another question – how long had he known?
Suddenly, the security of my home felt nonexistent. I pushed everything out of my lap and raced to my bedroom door, flipping the flimsy lock. That was okay though – I just needed it to hold long enough to snatch a pair of yoga pants and sneakers on, then retrieve the loaded gun from the drawer in my bedside table.
My obsession with learning to shoot, insistence on having a gun since I was living alone suddenly seemed a little less paranoid.
