The Miscreants of Xiphoid Camp [NOT UPDATING CURRENTLY]

» 2131 « Chapter 26 - The library

Somehow time had slipped between Avior's fingers and skittered away into the distance like the demented creature that it was, and he found himself facing the final week of Xiphoid Camp's winter session before the long five months (five months!) that preceded the summer session. The end of the winter session meant the end of having unlimited access to the peculiar little library nobody ever seemed to talk about. Even if he couldn't read the books it provided, he could very easily use the computers, however old and damaged they might be.

That was precisely why he found himself trudging across the deep snow to the school, which stood abandoned and eerily quiet. He had never been there on a Saturday before. He stepped inside, scuffing the snow off his boots at the door. He wouldn't be caught dead tracking snow indoors. He paused just before entering the library, his hand hovering uncertainly above the doorknob.

It was silly, but he didn't want to be in there alone with Ethel. The woman looked like a corpse brought to life, with her loose, papery skin and dark, sunken eyes and those hands, those shriveled claws that tapped ceaselessly away at her dingy old computer.

No, he had to go in there and show her that he wasn't afraid. She probably wanted everyone to be scared of her. She probably used it to her advantage. He slammed the door open and strode boldly into the library. "Hi, Ethel!" he shouted with all the bravado of a very small dog faced with an object far too large to fit in its mouth.

His voice fell upon no ears but his own. The desk was empty. Somehow that made the tiny library even creepier. Never mind that—he had come here for a reason. He walked quickly to the computers, glancing over his shoulder every few steps.

Avior stopped in front of the computer he had been drawn into that first time in the library and gave it a good solid whack. The shadows of the surrounding shelves were thrown into new angles as the room filled with the eerie blue glow of the screen bringing itself to life. There was no humming noise. No shadows danced behind the screen. Instead, a pixelated bar appeared and slowly filled with white as the percentage displayed above slowly ticked upward.

Ninety-two. Ninety-six. Ninety-nine.

The screen went black. For a moment, Avior feared that it had stopped working, but then the stark contrast of blinding white text blinked against the black background. He felt the familiar snap of disappointment at not being able to tell what it said, besides a long string of numbers at the bottom of the display: 28182845904523—even the numbers became illegible as they continued on.

The text faded away, and was replaced by an icon that blinked rapidly, commanding that he press the space bar. It took more strength than it should have to lift his hand from where it dangled at his side and press it, slowly and hesitantly. The icon disappeared and a bright blue dot appeared in its place in the center of the screen. A second dot, this one bright red, fluttered around the edges of the screen.

A large cluster of bright orange dots slowly appeared one by one slightly to the left of and below the blue dot. Avior watched, fascinated, as the orange dots slowly came together to form a thick line, which began to move, slithering along the screen.

The orange line made a sharp turn and moved toward the blue dot.

Watching the line approach the center of the screen, Avior couldn't help but feel like the little blue dot was in grave danger. Come on, he willed it. Move. Run!

Just before it reached its victim, the orange line turned around and slithered away before coming to a rest.

Now the red dot was moving, inching along, towards the center of the screen and the blue dot like the orange line had.

Leave the blue dot alone, Avior thought. This doesn't feel fair.

The red dot picked up its speed. It paused briefly. The orange line twitched. The blue dot remained stationary.

The red dot drew nearer, paused briefly, paused again a moment later.

The door banged open. Avior turned his head so quickly he felt something in his neck pop.

Marcus stood in the doorway.

"Marcus," Avior acknowledged him before turning back to the screen. Each moment he was not watching the little dots felt like an eternity.

"Hi," Marcus said uncertainly.

That may have been the most civil interaction they had ever had with each other. What an incredible milestone.

"Come look at this," Avior said.

As Marcus crossed the library, the red dot too moved toward the blue dot.

"Wait," Avior commanded, putting a hand up that said stop. "Stop moving,"

Marcus froze mid-step. The red dot froze as well.

"Keep moving."

The red dot moved in tandem with Marcus until it came to a stop directly beside the blue one. The orange line pulsed slowly in its place.

"Try something for me," Avior said to Marcus. "Watch the screen." He walked across the library and stopped at Ethel's abandoned desk. "Did anything happen?" he asked.

"Yeah," Marcus answered, "the blue dot moved."

"Shit," Avior breathed. He was beginning to realize something.

He returned to the computer. Marcus inhaled sharply as the blue dot slid across the screen again.

"Are the dots," he began, voice catching slightly, "us?"

"Yes," Avior whispered, eyes fixed on the screen and that pulsating mass of orange, "I think they might be,"

"Then what's that orange—"

The orange line began to twitch slightly, and then, slowly, it began to move.

From somewhere within the maze of bookshelves, there was a strange sound, like someone was being dragged along the floor.

The sound stopped as the orange line stopped moving.

Avior hardly dared to breathe. At his side, Marcus stiffened.

The orange line started to move again.