Fallout (Lois Lane) by Gwenda Bond

Realm of Ye Old Troy,” he said, studying the keyboard in front of him. “You should’ve let me go in with you.”
    “You do have a very nice castle. But we made it out without too much trouble.”
    Anavi walked into the classroom, and I immediately regretted what I had said. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles. She came directly to us, taking the seat beside me.
    “I’m sorry I just left you there.” Her hands were balled in her lap. “I shouldn’t have.”
    “You did exactly what you said you would. I was hoping you got out without any pain or problems. What’s wrong?”
    Anavi was subdued. “It’s not the game.” She gave her head a little shake, like there was water in her ears.
    Or bad guys in her head.
They clearly weren’t giving up. “They’re bothering you again here?” I asked.
    Anavi nodded absently and turned, her eyes locking on the door seconds before the Warheads came through it.
    “It’s getting worse,” she said.
    She turned back around and stared down at her hands, twisting them together on the tabletop. I wished I had her grenade belt or SmallvilleGuy’s laser eyebeams to direct at the smirking Warheads.
    They arrayed themselves at workstations along the other side of the table from me and Devin and Anavi, sitting down at the same time, like they were one person. Then they started their taunts, putting some sing-song into them.
    “Hope no one’s got . . .”
    “. . . heartburn.”
    “Or was it the shoulder?”
    “We figured out . . .”
    “. . . that Anavi’s only got one friend.”
    “Besides us.”
    “We’d be much better friends, Anavi.”
    “We can keep
her
from bothering
you
.”
    I didn’t speak right away. Mostly, in truth, because I didn’t want to feel that mental shove again. I didn’t want the distraction of it. I knew that they could do things outside the game, too. The problem was, I wasn’t sure what the limits were. I didn’t know anything about the how, or how much. Not even why they were able to.
    Project Hydra must be the key.
    “Stop.” The word slipped out from Anavi.
    “You know . . .”
    “. . . how to make it stop . . .”
    “. . . it would be easy . . .”
    “. . . just as easy as it is for us to never stop.”
    I didn’t have a way to go on the attack at this particular second, but I had a story. A story it was almost time to tell.
    “Save the threats for someone who’s scared of you,” I said.
    I put a hand on Anavi’s arm and nodded at her, and she tried to nod back. But it was weak.
    Definitely almost time to tell the story.
    I stood, hoping Anavi would do the same.
    “What are we doing?” Anavi asked, but she didn’t fight, climbing to her feet when I tugged on her arm.
    “Getting you out of here for now,” I said.
    Devin was frowning at the Warheads. “Go. I’ll handle the teacher,” he said.
    “You’re a prince, King,” I told him under my breath.
    I was relieved, and even more worried, when Anavi let me lead her out of the classroom doors without a single big-ticket vocabulary word of protest about risking her scholarship. Her eyes were nearly shut.
    I steered her carefully, but quickly, up the hall. Once we were several classrooms away, Anavi’s state changed, but it wasn’t so much an improvement. She . . . wilted. Like a delicate flower in burning hot desert sun.
    With those dark circles around her eyes, she looked exhausted. “I don’t want my consciousness to be erased. But they said it would be easy to take it. Lois, it
feels
easy.”
    I had been guiding us in the direction of the cafeteria, gambling that it would be empty. I was right.
    The Warheads’ usual table was the closest to the door. She wouldn’t want to sit there even with it vacant, so I kept going until we reached the next one. I eased Anavi into a chair, and then sat down beside her.
    “In the game last night,” I started, trying to decide on the most important answers I needed, “were they able to get in your head?”
    Anavi hesitated.