The Higher Define (2018)

18

The tall leaves and the thick curves of the drip tips smack us as we struggle to make haste, trying to slow us down. I draw up my code as I race past a long, bending river that snakes through the forest.

"What are you doing?" Spencer cries, sensing the slight halt in our speed but I shake my head at him, "We need to teleport into another space. Now!"

It's far too dangerous here where getting caught is a high chance. Though there is little wind resistance where we are, the vegetation is unhelpful.

"Do it fast, then!" Spencer leaps over some sort of thick shrub which I nearly trip on. I'm running the details of this area's internet protocol's address through my head and trying to stream onto another channel but the address of this area resembles that of the other places that are available.

"It's the Stimulation Room." Spencer reminds me as he spots the confused look that has strung across my features. I groan in response.

The only way that the location of the Stimulation changes is through someone from higher up. I can't do anything to make my current situation any better and I almost wonder if I should stop running, to resign.

Then I hear his low voice, disgusting and thick with pride for himself. The way his words twisted through my head, the way it had sent a hurricane of anger through my body earlier.

No.

I won't continue to run.

But I won't stop fighting.

I spin to a stop and Spencer follows suit, uncertainty clear in his eyes but he gives me the benefit of the doubt and turn, when I do.

Friday and his two friends are growing closer and as the gap between us turns thin, fear surges through my veins.

What the heck am I doing?

But then I force myself to think about the way everyone from my childhood had admired me.

I'm the best. I'm better and far stronger than a bunch of them. So surely, I can take down a fool like Friday.

"Head out." He informs his two friends as he takes a step towards me. They look hesitant but heed his orders, anyway. It's only when they're out of earshot that Friday's smirk turns narrow and his eyes almost become slits, burning with fresh rage.

"That's right, Aspen. You can never outrun me." Friday stands tall over me and his shadow splays along where I stand, giving him an errie look. I clench my fists, hoping that it would distract me from the way the terror was drilling through my lungs but it didn nothing to stop the panic that was spinning in my chest.

"You're wrong." At first, my words wobble and I try to ignore the way mirth crosses Friday's face when he catches the tremble in my tone. I will not let him win, not after what he said about me.

"I can outrun you. I just don't want your friends to look down on you when they see that." My tone turns cynical with sarcasm and pity as I prop a hand against my wait, narrowing my eyes at Friday.

From beside me, I can hear Spencer whispering for me to stop. But I'm not going to stop. I won't just let Friday talk shit about me and trample me like that. Not when I know that I'm far better than him.

Friday hisses at me and I try not to let it show that it affects me.

"You think that you're the best, don't you?" There is almost no distance between us as Friday draws close. I can feel the way heat radiates off him and try not to think about the way it taints my code.

He might be using this against me. Searching for any weaknessess, any flaws. And when he sees that I have none, he will turn his attention to Spencer.

A tremble of terror ripples through my chest. I need to make sure that Spencer is safe from Friday's prying mind.

But just as I'm about to push Spencer in the other direction and urge him to run, Friday turns his head towards the sky and laughs. It's an evil sound that shatters my eardrums, makes my mind hazy with dark, fearful thoughts.

But Friday doesn't fight me. Instead, he pulls his arm across his chest, a cold, satisfied look blossoming along his face.

"Be careful, Aspen." He says with warning and it feels like my whole body has been thrown into a chasm or a cold stream of water. I can't think without shaking with fear. I don't know what he's saying.

"You don't know what you're talking about." I say, leaning on the tip of my toes to project a taller height. It doesn't deter Friday, though.

"Oh, I think I do," Friday begins to turn away but his words are still directed at me and the way he targets me does not deviate, even when he's not looking at me anymore, "After all, you don't want to end up like Terry, do you?"