The Astral Hacker (Cryptopunk Revolution Book 1) by Brian Terenna (best ebook reader .txt) 📗

It’s completely dark now except for the sliver of moon trying to shine through the clouds. My legs are like lead weights, my will a shadow of itself. “We need to find somewhere to stop.”

A park appears on my right.

I pull Sunny toward it until we reach a sprawling oak tree. I don’t know how to find food or weapons. Not now. I lower myself down to the grass and shut my eyes.

☼☼☼

My eyes bolt open, and I gasp for breath as I wake from another nightmare. Unfortunately, I’m entering one that’s much worse, one I can’t wake up from. After a while, I manage to slow my heart and relax my clenched jaw.

The bright sun sits in a blue sky, only broken by fluffy clouds. It would be a beautiful day if I could only dispel the image of Barbra’s unseeing eyes and pale lips.

Sunny stands next to me, surveying the surrounding area. “I kept watch over you.”

I groan and prop myself up, wishing I got more than a few hours of sleep. I rub my face. Grass and dirt fall to the ground. “What about your power? You’ll run out.”

“It should be fine. I’ll be getting a lot more sun out here to recharge.”

I grab my bag, pull out my water, and take a mouthful of the sun-warmed liquid. I swish it around in my dry sour mouth, then spit.

I drink the rest of the water, thankful that we have filtered public fountains.

Barbra is dead. A wave of despair and sadness hits me like a brick falling from a crumbling building. I squeeze my eyes shut.

‘I’m sorry,’ she wrote.

What the hell? Don’t kill yourself, and you’d have nothing to be sorry about. Why did you do it? The doctors said you were better.

Obviously, she wasn’t. My anger drains, and I shake my head in defeat. She was sick. I should have helped her more.

“I can’t face him,” she had written.

I can only imagine what horrors she hallucinated.

That symbol, though. Why take the time to draw it? “Chim, search for an eye symbol with lines.”

A series of images appear above my q-link. I scroll through, scanning the different drawings. The eye of providence. A symbol associated with secret societies. Also known as the all-seeing eye of God, which has many religious connections. It’s similar but not quite right. I keep scrolling.

Here. The eye of Ra. It’s exactly the same. I touch the image.

A violent force that subdues Ra’s enemies. Ra, God of the Sun. A creator god from ancient Egyptian religion.

What the…it makes no sense, but I guess hallucinations probably don’t. Still, I’ll have to think more about it later in case it does mean something. I set up an alert on my q-link for any news articles about Barbra. I’ll want to read how they spin this and make sure I’m not mentioned.

My stomach growls and twists in pain.

I haven’t eaten since the day before yesterday and realize that in my haste to leave, I didn’t take food. Pain in my overfull bladder reminds me of my other needs. “Let’s go find a bathroom.”

Sunny grabs his bag and follows me.

“What do we do after that?” I ask him, knowing that I could figure it out, but wishing he’d take charge.

“You need food and shelter.”

I sigh. Obviously. “Do you have any ideas?”

“You could call child services. You’ll get food and somewhere to sleep then.”

I can’t stomach the thought. “No. We’re better off alone. People are trouble.” I force my mind to focus on solutions. “I just bought my new q-link, but I’m sure I have more royalties from my apps by now.”

He stops and turns to me. “Check.”

My stomach grumbles as I log into my bank account and scan my balance.

It’s zero.

“This is weird. I should have something,” I say, panic rising inside me. “Let me check my apps.”

A hologram of my app page materializes in front of me. All my apps are gone, and my Progs account is nonexistent.

My skin tingles with anxiety. What the hell. “I have no money,” I say, trying to wrap my head around it. For years, I survived from my programming income, but now that’s over. “What’s going on?”

He shrugs his small shoulders. “I don’t know.”

I contact customer service at my bank, then at Progs. Both tell me there’s no record of an account under my name.

I want to argue, but I just don’t have it in me.

“You could go back to the house and get food,” says Sunny.

My body shakes. Blood. So much blood. “Don’t ever suggest that again.”

He looks away, his glowing mouth turning down.

“Come on.” I drag myself down the sidewalk, feeling like I’m in full military gear.

We reach a convenience store and enter. A few customers stand in line at the automatic checkout, while others browse various goods.

I walk up and down the rows until I find the manager. “Do you have a bathroom, sir?”

He glances at Sunny, then points to a sign that reads, ‘Restroom for paying customers only.’

I drop my head and sigh. My bladder is ready to explode. I pull Sunny outside and walk around the building to the back alley. It’s empty besides two dumpsters and a crushed soda can.

I duck behind a dumpster. “Keep watch. I don’t want anyone to see me.”

“You can count on me.”

When I’m done, I say, “Let’s go find a bench and think about our next steps.”

We return to the park, and I move to the tree-lined walkway to avoid a scruffy looking beggar. A pair of blue jays zip from branch to branch in an old oak tree. I wish I were like them and could fly away.

I stumble and nearly trip on