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knew about.
His feet landed on a soft forest floor, moist leaves giving under his weight with a
squish. Mist curled around his legs, and giant trees surrounded him, moss hanging from
their limbs as if they were melting. The forest was a work of art; it looked ancient, and
Michael and his friends had spent countless hours designing it out of code. But the true
masterpiece was the tree house they had programmed, one of his proudest
achievements. On the outskirts of the outskirts of Lifeblood, in a place no one would ever
go. And if anyone did go there, they wouldn’t be able to see the tree house anyway. It
was a brilliant example of elusive code.
Sarah was already climbing the ladder, disappearing through the trapdoor. Michael
sucked in a deep breath of the clean, fake air, then followed her up. He’d thought it
would seem strange being back inside the Sleep, but it felt just like old times, nothing
out of the ordinary. Which brought both comfort and relief.
He had just reached the top rung when a blur of movement raced by to the left. He
turned to look, but there was nothing. Just an oak tree, twisted and gnarled.
No, he thought, more annoyed than scared. No way somebody found this place on
purpose. It had to be an accident, some kid dinking around.
“Sarah,” he called in a low whisper. “I think I saw something.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond. With his eyes riveted to the spot where he’d seen
the motion, he quickly climbed back down the ladder and started inching toward the
oak. In all the times they’d been to their tree house, not once had there been so much as
a mosquito nearby, much less another person. Based on their circumstances, he ruled out
the chance that someone had found them by accident after all. With a sinking feeling, he
decided to investigate.
Sarah was too smart to ask questions. A glance behind him showed that she was
almost to the bottom of the ladder, following his lead.
Slowly, Michael crept closer, thankful for the wet leaves padding his steps. As he
neared the tree, though, his confidence waned. He was sure someone would jump out at
any second, guns blazing, or worse, and if he and Sarah couldn’t even come here safely,
he didn’t know how they had any chance of finding Bryson or doing anything else. A
heavy feeling of doom weighed on him.
When Michael was only a few feet away, he stopped and planted his feet, bending his
knees, ready to react if he had to protect himself.
“Who’s back there?” he shouted, hoping to surprise the intruder into making a sound.
“Turn around and go back,” a woman answered. “I won’t harm you if you do.” The
voice sounded familiar. Just barely.
“Who are you?” he asked.
The stranger didn’t answer.
A long, long moment passed in silence. Michael didn’t know what to do, what to say.
Sarah crept up behind him and gently touched his shoulder.
“Just talk to us,” Sarah called out. “How did you find this place?”
“Last warning,” the voice replied. This time she did something funny to her voice,
muffling it somehow. “Don’t come one step closer.”