Incarceration

Chapter Twenty-Three

As the next few days pass, I seldom see Iker without the stack of papers I gave him. After a couple of weeks, they become stained, dirtied, and covered in small annotations Iker makes in the margins.

"All right," he says one day at dinner, "I've figured it out."

Amara and I immediately stop our conversation and Royce sits up straighter in her seat. We all turn to Iker eager to know what he would say.

"This is definitely the code to your game. And I think I figured out how to get you out. Only," he hesitates, "we wouldn't be able to come."

"What do you mean?" Royce asks immediately.

"Well, the way I've done it, only the person playing gets out."

Only the person playing gets out. No, that won't work. What about Wyatt?

"Is there another way?" Amara asks hopefully, channeling my thoughts.

Iker shakes his head.

"From what can see, it looks like the game is programmed to make you immobile in reality, regardless of what happens in the Sim. I'm not sure how . . . but I don't think it's important. Anyway, I figured out a way to break the immobility, so when you move in the Sim, you'll move in real life."

"Won't the guards just run after me as soon as they see me moving?"

"Well," Iker hesitates, "I was hoping that you had some guard friends. We'll need their help."

"Why?"

"One of them needs to be your Player and move you so that you make it out of the prison. And for when the others start chasing you, I've modified the game so you won't feel any pain and you can run super-fast. I think that should get you out. Once you're out of the prison, the Player just needs to log out of the Sim and you'll be out of the prison in reality."

"What about us?" Royce cuts in. "The deal was that she brings all of us!"

"No," Iker says shaking his head. "If we're involved, she'll get caught. At least if she can get out, she can bust us out eventually."

"I promise I'll come back, Royce," I say earnestly. "There are some small rebellions already forming in the city. All the citizens are unhappy, too. If we can garner support from a large portion of the city, we'll be able to overthrow Hendrix and break you guys out."

"How are you going to do all that alone?" Royce counters.

I bite my lip. It's a bad time to tell them about Wyatt.

"Leave her alone, Royce," Iker cuts in. "This is the only way. Let's just focus on getting her out."

I am filled with relief at Iker's words. He's expressing all my own worries, so I don't have to say anything more.

Royce nods at me. "Okay," she says. "Iker's right."

I swallow. I want to thank Iker, Royce, and Amara for everything they've done for me. Keeping me safe, keeping me company, and keeping my spirits up. All I can choke out is, "I promise I'll come back."

"I know you will, Maxwell," Amara says comfortingly.

"You'd better," Royce says jokingly.

"She will," Iker says confidently.

I smile, relieved they're no longer angry at me.

"Here," Iker says, handing me the stack of papers. "I made changes and wrote them down for you. Just make sure when you're changing it in the computer, everything is exactly the way I wrote it."

I nod. "Thanks, Iker."

"So," Amara says. "When are you doing it?"

"I guess the next time I'm in the Sim," I say. "I'll change the code tomorrow and try to get in touch with one of the guards. But after that, it's go time."

"Yup," Iker says.

When I get back to my cell, I pull out a piece of paper. Whoever has been writing me notes is in a position of power. It's someone who roams the prison freely. I have a hunch I might be able to get some more help. I would ask Grayson, but I have no way of reaching him.

I write a note: Come to my cell after lights out. It's time to meet face-to-face.

I fold the note and slip it into the slot in my door. Then I wait.