The sounds of metal clashing against metal, animalistic grunts, and primal screams were carried on the wind to Michael. He still couldn’t believe that anyone would voluntarily take part in such brutality. As he watched one of the closer fights, he saw a man stab another man, shouting at the top of his lungs the whole time. After everything Michael had seen in countless movies and experienced in games, he still had to look away. This place was hell.
Focus, he told himself. Avoid being seen, and concentrate on the trenches.
Staying just below the sight line of those battling in the valley, he crawled military-style across the frozen snow. Worried that his backpack would give him away, he finally took it off and chucked it, not sure why he had it in the first place. He’d be thrilled if he lived long enough to worry about needing food or extra clothing.
He made his way down to the right of the valley, so far unseen. Several rows of trenches lay between him and most of the fighting now, but it was still impossible to get a good look at how many people waited inside them. He stopped behind a small mound of packed snow and gathered his wits. The memory of that blade slicing his neck was still fresh, as if the pain still lingered there.
Closing his eyes, he focused on the surrounding code for a second. It seemed elusive and hard to read, as if the sea of numbers and letters churned in a fierce storm. It took him a few minutes, but he was finally able to latch on to a string of programming he’d used in a game called Dungeons of Delmar. It would give his knife a magical quality, bursts of unseen force from its tip that might go unnoticed.
It was better than nothing.
As he had to do sometimes in the Sleep, Michael gave himself a pep talk, a reminder that as bad it seemed, he wouldn’t actually die if he was killed. Pain, yes. Terror, yes. Traumatized forever, maybe. But at least he’d still be alive at the end of the day.
Eyes closed. Deep breaths. Eyes open again. Code-enhanced knife pulled from his belt, gripped firmly in his right hand.
He got up and ran for the closest trench.
3
His heart pounded and cold air burned his lungs raw, but Michael willed himself to set it all aside and run as fast as possible. A few soldiers noticed him, but they were on the far side of the trench Michael was headed for, and no one approached him—they just kept beating on each other.
The edge of the trench was suddenly at his feet. He pulled to a stop and looked down, quickly scanning the interior—about fifteen feet deep. It was empty except for a wooden bench and a slushy path going down the middle. The walls were covered by black tarps—held in place at the top by old tires and pots and pans. There were no soldiers inside.
Because Michael didn’t see a clear Portal, he almost turned and ran for the next trench, but he stopped himself. Who knew what the Portal looked like, anyway—or whether the weakness in the code would be easily spotted? It hit him then, the enormity of the task that lay ahead of them. It would take forever to search each trench from top to bottom. And they didn’t even know what they were searching for, exactly.
Sighing, Michael found a ladder and climbed down to begin.
4
The black tarps that covered the walls of the trench were easy to move. Michael pulled one back and ducked underneath it, then walked along the side of the trench from one end to the other, feeling up and down the expanse of ice. But that’s all it was—ice and hard-packed snow. Nothing suspicious or out of the ordinary. Every once in a while, he closed his eyes to look for anomalies in the code or anything that stood out. But it was all solid.
When he came out of the tarp on the far side, he checked to make sure the trench was still empty, then moved on to the other wall.
Nothing.
He walked once more down the center, kicking through the slush and checking the code for anything weird. Then he examined the bench. Another check of the programming.
Nothing.
As Michael climbed the ladder out of the ditch, he tried not to think of how much time he’d just wasted. There’d be no way of knowing which trench held the Portal until he and his friends searched them—one by one. He sighed again. He supposed no amount of effort was really a waste.
At least that’s what he told himself. He couldn’t shake the hopeless feeling that they’d never find what they were looking for. There were still at least a hundred more to go.
No one was running at him—at least not yet. And a glance around the battlefield showed no sign of his friends.
Michael headed for the next trench.
5
No one was inside that one, either.
Michael scaled down and began his search. He slipped under a wall tarp and made his way down one side, then up the other, checking the code now and then. But it all looked fine. There was nothing there.
He climbed out, discouraged but ready to check the next space. He’d let his guard down, so he was surprised when he saw a woman standing there, waiting for him. Dressed in the same winter camouflage Michael wore, she looked clean and fresh, like she’d just walked out of the tunnel. Her face would’ve been pretty if it wasn’t screwed up into a nasty snarl.
“Micky told me I’d have an easy kill over here,” she said. “Nothing like a stray kid who’s tippy-toed his way in without permission. You’ll be a good game-starter for me.” Her expression had warmed a bit as she spoke but twisted back into a snarl when she finished.
“Easy?” Michael repeated. “What makes you think I’m gonna be easy?” He casually took a step backward, lining up the heels of his boots with the top edge of the trench. He wanted to look like someone who was scared but trying not to act like it.
“How many times have you been in here?” she asked, again relaxing that horrible face only to pull it back when she was done talking.
“This is my first time,” he said innocently. “But I did have a kill already. That’s not too bad, right?”
She shook her head. “I’m going to enjoy this way too much.”
Michael just grinned and said, “Go for it.”
He wanted her to make the first move, and it worked. She came at him, her angry face flushed a deep red.
She pulled back her fist, and right before she hit him Michael dropped to the ground, onto his side. He knew there’d be a risk of slipping over the edge and into the trench, but he was willing to take it to avoid another fight. He squeezed the handle of his knife and sent a bolt of invisible power at her torso, and she catapulted forward.