Stuck in the Game

by Christopher Keene

Genres: YA Science Fiction

Synopsis

Noah promised himself he would never play the world’s most popular MMORPG—the Dream State. He’d already lost too many friends to the addictive virtual world.
But after a devastating car crash leaves Noah paralyzed, he’s forced inside the game. The Dream State not only provides a connection with the outside world but also keeps his brain awake long enough for his body to heal. Dying in the game, however, could send Noah into a coma forever. To stay safe, he must remain in the lower levels, far away from the most dangerous monsters and players.
Meanwhile, doctors grow concerned when Noah’s girlfriend, Sue—who also sustained serious injuries in the crash—seemingly fails to connect to the game. When a mysterious avatar suggests to Noah that the last remnants of Sue’s consciousness are being held prisoner in the highest level, Noah decides to risk everything to save her. 
Leaving the safety of the lower levels, Noah rises through the ranks and enters the most dangerous part of the game, allying with high-level players and unearthing clues to a sinister plot along the way. Now top players from across the world are hunting him.
With his life on the line, can Noah save Sue and uncover the mystery?
 

Release date: June 23, 2021

Publisher: Future House Publishing

Print pages: 276

Sample

I didn’t know how long I had been floating in the darkness. My body twitched as waves of anxiety and exhilaration crashed over me, drowning me.

When the tides of emotion finally receded, my heartbeat calmed and I floated once more, trying to gain a sense of my surroundings.

A speck of light appeared before me, glowing like the first glimpse of a sunrise after a starless night. The white radiance grew until the circle was as wide as I was tall. As bright as the light was, my eyes seemed to have already adjusted to it.

Three smaller lights appeared around the circle, forming words I couldn’t quite make out until I gave them my full attention. Of the three lights, “New Game” glowed the brightest. The other two read “Continue” and “Settings.” I had played enough video games to recognize a gaming menu when I saw one.

“New Game?” The sound of my voice was jarring after the silence.

The icon flashed and the words were sucked into the circle of light, like being drawn into a whirlpool. I followed them soon after, my body stretching as the light engulfed me and a brief whine filled my ears.

When the light faded, I was standing on a dirt pathway surrounded by the greenest field of grass I had ever seen, complete with daisies and dandelions. I expected to smell the grass, but when I sniffed the air, I couldn’t identify a single distinguishable scent. My sniff seemed to be the loudest noise around. Everything from the clouds in the azure sky to the distant trees had the look of a CGI wallpaper. Every object had been so neatly arranged that it only highlighted how unnatural it all was.

It isn’t real. My eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

I touched the dirt of the pathway, feeling its rough texture under my fingertips. It felt too real, if such a sensation was possible. The edges of the track were cleanly cut, despite the high grass surrounding it. I saw a split in the path in the distance, and ahead of me, on the side of the pathway, was a wooden sign pegged into the grass. I walked forward, blurry details of the environment far away becoming clearer with every step closer, as though I had suddenly become nearsighted.

When I reached the split in the path, the sign came into focus too. It had the word “TUTORIAL” carved into it in block lettering. Under the etching was a map of a diamond-shaped path. At each corner of the diamond was a title. The eastern point was called Menus, the northern point was called Actions, the western point was called Community, and the southern point had a red box with “You are here!” written in it.

“Really?” I murmured, jumping when my voice echoed.

Between the surreal surroundings and the menus, I realized where I must be. How did I end up in a Dream Game?

Considering I had no clue what was going on, I guessed that the direction marked “Community” would be my safest bet for finding answers, so I went left. Less than a few yards past the Y-junction, an animated circle appeared before me, continuously filling up with blue liquid.

Huh . . . it’s a loading icon. I heard the chirping sound of a successful Internet connection. Five bars rose and then vanished only to be replaced with a black window that had three blank spaces for a Username, Password, and Email.

I stared blankly at the window for a moment before deciding to just go along with whatever trick the universe was playing on me. I tried to touch the window to select the option, but my hand went right through it. Remembering the earlier menu, I said “email,” and the word began to glow. Since talking aloud seemed to be working, I verbally spelled out my email and password. Both were accepted, but when I tried to create a username, the window rejected it.

— Existing username. Try something else —

Each time I tried a new name, the window would shake and the message to “try something else” would reappear. I wasn’t surprised. So many Dream State accounts had been created in the past few years that it was almost impossible to find one without numbers or alternative letters. After a few unsuccessful attempts, the system finally accepted NotThatNoah.

Now that I was registered, a chat window appeared, and an invitation window immediately popped up on top of it. I was surprised to see my mother’s name followed by three random numbers. I didn’t hesitate to accept.

“Noah?” My mother’s voice rang out in my head, racked with worry. “Noah, how are you?”

“I feel . . . fine.” I moved my head, and the window followed my vision. “What’s going on? Why am I in a Dream Game?”

“Oh dear . . . you were in a car accident.”

Car accident? The words seemed foreign, disconnected. A buzzing apprehension fluttered in the back of my mind.

“Your brain was damaged during the crash. The doctor says your body is now fully paralyzed.”

Paralyzed.

The weight behind her words hit me in a rush, and everything suddenly made sense. My body—which wasn’t really a body at all—froze, and I felt a pit form in my stomach. My heart pounded loudly in my ears as my anxiety crept in and clutched my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

“In a strange way, it’s a little funny,” she continued. “After all of those awful things being said about it online and all the times your father and I told you not to try it, the Dream Engine is the only thing that has the wetware interface that would let us talk to you.”

My mother continued to talk but her voice started to sound farther and farther away. “Noah? Don’t panic, it’s okay! Everything’s going to be fine . . .”

With every word her voice became more distant until I barely heard her at all.

* * *

Sue and I had stood in David’s dark, BO-smelling room for half an hour before I realized he wasn’t going to wake himself out of his game. Or maybe he couldn’t. We’d been let in by his roommate, who David hadn’t yet introduced me to. All I knew about him was that he worked as an orderly at the local hospital.

As a last resort, I kicked David’s bed and screamed at him. He was so far under that his only response was to grunt and roll over.

During my freshman year, I’d enjoyed playing MMO games as much as David and Brock, the third musketeer of our little group of friends. When Brock started playing the new Dream Engine, or the “harder stuff” as we called it back then, we were shocked by how addicted he became to it. Sue and I were going out by then, and after seeing how the game had turned Brock into a recluse, we were both completely against being sucked into it.

Schizophrenia, narcolepsy, drug overdoses—there were a myriad of boogeyman-like risks being rumored about online to scare the parents of any gamer who might have considered buying the Dream Engine. Were any of these true? Probably not, but I wasn’t going to risk it. Being skeptical of the dangers of smoking didn’t help the people who died of lung cancer.

Now that David was getting into Dream Games as well, the game had stripped me of my two best friends.

Sue’s dark hair whipped around as she made for the door.

Frustrated, I stole a bottle of soda from David’s bedside table. Since two were left out, I’d assumed one was for me anyway. As I left, I gulped it down and then threw the bottle into the recycling bin outside.

I followed Sue out to my car. She was sitting in the passenger seat, eager to leave, frowning at the state we had found David in. We took off down the back road, heading for the highway.

“If he thinks a game is more important than spending time with you, you’re better off not being friends with him,” she said as we stopped at a red light. “The last time we all hung out together was over a month ago, and staying up all night playing that old console fighting game was fun, but now we barely even talk. It’s like he’s slipped into a coma.”

The sky darkened as raindrops began to fall, the approaching night close on the heels of the overcast clouds. I turned on my lights.

“Neither of us have tried it before, so we don’t really know what it’s like for them,” I said. “Maybe it’s just that fun?”

She snorted. “They could at least do it in moderation. David didn’t even show up for your birthday dinner.”

It had been a pretty sad affair all around, and it ended up just being a double date with Sue’s sister and her boyfriend, who was so introverted I could barely get a word out of him. By the end of it, I felt sorry for Sue for putting in so much effort, booking a large table at my favorite restaurant, and even making a cake to be brought in after the main course.

A car horn went off behind me a second after the light turned green. The impatient driver continued to ride my tail even as I turned onto the highway. His lights were on high beam, so I could barely see anything in my rearview mirror.

I squinted, trying to clear my vision. “I mean . . . it’s their choice how they spend their life, no matter how we feel about it.”

I didn’t know why I was defending them. I was just as against their gaming lifestyle as she was.

Sue crossed her arms, screwing up her normally gentle face. “Still, I would never say a life where you have to take mind-altering drugs to have a good time is a good life. Didn’t Brock tell you that a bunch of people died from overdosing on DSD?”

“I’m not sure how seriously we should take his story.” I shook my head roughly, but not because I was disagreeing with her. A sudden weariness was wrapping itself around me like a warm blanket, making my eyelids droop. “The guy has . . .” I yawned. “Watched a few too many conspiracy videos. Besides, I think he likes you, and he knows that if he talks about DSD, you’ll listen.”

“Well, Brock said he’s going to mail me the video evidence on a flash drive today. It should really add weight to my petition to get DSD out of stores and—”

She was interrupted by another roar of the horn from the car behind us. It jolted me from my stupor.

Sue turned in her seat and made a rude gesture at the driver. “What’s your problem, huh?”

That’s . . . a very good . . . question.

I couldn’t focus on the road. With a quick glance through the rain-streaked windshield to check for lights in the darkness, I eased on the brake to take a left off the highway. I had to pull over and take a rest before I caused an accident.

Time skipped forward, and I heard Sue scream, “Noah, stop!”

I jolted awake just in time to see that there were lights ahead coming straight for us. I didn’t have time to wonder why I hadn’t seen them before. I floored the accelerator, hoping to cut past them. I wasn’t fast enough. A truck slammed into my car. The sound of shattering glass and folding metal overpowered the car horns as we spun from the impact.

* * *

I opened my eyes again. Despite the beautiful blue sky above me, this tutorial was like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

My mother’s frantic voice came back to me. “Are you hearing what I’m saying, Noah? You won’t be able to move your body. Keeping you in the game is the only way you’ll be able to communicate with anyone. Do you understand?”

“A-are you telling me that the only way I can have contact with the outside world is to stay in here?” My trembling voice echoed back at me.

“I’m sorry, dear. The doctor says your brain will heal but that it will take some time. You’ll have to bear with this system to communicate with us until then. Listen, Noah, it could be a lot worse. You—”

“What about Sue? Is she okay?”

She didn’t seem to want to answer me. Her silence told me more than any words she might have spoken.

“She didn’t make it, did she?”

“She’s in critical condition, but her brain was so damaged that the doctors don’t think she’s going to pull through.”

My anxiety returned with a throbbing ache that, even in this artificial world, made my vision blur. I would have vomited if the game had allowed it. I might never see Sue again, never talk to her or touch her. All of the dreams we’d had together might never come true.

“No . . . no!” I grabbed my head that wasn’t real in a world that wasn’t real and shook it roughly. “I’m such an idiot!”

My mother attempted to console me, but she was drowned out by the memory that my last words to Sue were in defense of the Dream Games.

“Noah, I know you need time to process, but I have to tell you this. There’s an issue with your connection to the Dream Engine.”

I rubbed my eyes and combed my fingers through my hair to compose myself. “What problem?”

“The doctor says that playing the game helps you maintain a certain level of consciousness. Right now, the Dream Engine is the only thing keeping you as alert as you are. We were lucky that it connected at all.”

“So, I’m under the influence of DSD now?”

“That’s right. The doctor said that keeping your brain active will help heal the part that controls motor function. The problem is that the system is designed so that when you lose or are defeated, you are given a jolt to wake up from the trance that the Dream State Drug puts you in.” She paused for a moment, as though she was building up the courage to say something. “The doctor thinks that . . . because of the areas of the brain that were damaged . . . if this happens . . . there’s a chance you could slip into a coma.”

Still processing the news about Sue, I found trying to decipher my mother’s meaning difficult.

“You’re telling me that if I lose in the game,” I said slowly, “I might slip into a coma . . . and lose contact with the outside world?”

“That’s right. We weren’t sure if the tutorial stage alone would keep your brain active enough, so your father and I put some money together and hired a professional to train you. He will also act as your bodyguard until you get the hang of it. He works for the Wona Company and is apparently very good.”

My friend Brock used to work for the Wona Company too. Players like him were paid by the company to stay in-game for long periods of time, usually drugged out of their minds. The longer Brock was drugged up, though, the more paranoid he got. He became convinced that Wona was after him, but still spent most of his time in the game. I briefly wondered if long exposure to the drug would start to mess with my brain as well.

“Is he Hero rank?” I recalled being told that this was the highest rank in the game.

How long has he been on DSD?

“I’m sure that’s what he referred to himself as.” She didn’t sound certain. “He’s going to be waiting for you outside the first Gateway once you’re done with the tutorial. At least he’d better be after the small fortune we paid.”

I nodded. Only a few hours ago, I was against playing the Dream Engine. Now not only was I stuck in it, but I was relying on it to have any connection at all with reality. In the game, I could hear my mother’s voice loud and clear. Was she in the same room as my body? Had she been talking to me since the crash and I couldn’t hear it? The thought of the game being the only thing I could sense was jarring.

For a moment I longed for reality, for something less perfect and less silent than this odd virtual world. But when I pictured reality, all I could see was Sue’s body, lying still. The guilt was overwhelming. I couldn’t breathe.

No. Torturing myself over this won’t fix anything. She’s going to recover and I’m going to see her again.

The need to do something was almost as overwhelming as the guilt.

“Alright, I’ll do the tutorial now.”

“Okay, Noah. Be careful. I love you. And I’ll check in on you again soon.”

The chat window blinked out, and I was left staring down the dirt path. A window appeared saying:

— Community complete! Please move on to Actions —

I felt anxious, afraid. I needed to move. I headed for the Actions section of the tutorial loop. Now that I knew where I was, I was amazed by how easy it was to move around. All I had to do was think it and the game responded just as my body would in real life. For a moment I thought of my real body, lying broken in a hospital bed, but I pushed that thought away and ran to the northernmost corner of the loop.

A window was waiting for me there. It read “BASIC MOVEMENTS” in big, blocky lettering, and a chart underneath listed a few actions. Communication was already ticked off, as well as Walking, Arm Movement, Speaking, and Identification. One of the points I hadn’t completed was Jumping. Assuming it worked just as naturally as any of the other motions I had completed, I leaped up. I waved my arms for balance as my jump hurled me six feet into the air.

Whoa, it’s like I’m on the moon!

A moment of weightlessness at the top made my stomach drop, and then I began to plummet back down to the ground. I bent my knees to cushion the landing, but hitting the ground felt like any normal jump. For the first time since I awoke in the game, I smiled.

Jumping was now checked off the list.

A wooden crate appeared beside me with the word “Climb” glowing above it. I touched it, feeling the rough, grainy texture of the box. It only went up to my chest. I placed my hands on top of the box and pulled myself up easily enough, though I could have simply jumped over it. As soon as my feet touched the ground on the other side, a window appeared with the option:

— Next —

Having gotten the hang of menus, I read the message aloud, and the box vanished. In its place appeared a floating, double-edged sword.

— Swing —

I grabbed hold of its leather-wrapped hilt. Like the crate, it was solid and heavy enough that it felt real. I swung it from side to side and then spun it in my grip.

I can finally put to use all of my practice pretending my broom handle was a lightsaber.

Swinging the sword was much more fun than pressing the keys of the games I used to play with David and Brock. I was almost tempted to make lightsaber noises as it sliced through the air around me. It would be even better when I had a monster to use it against.

However, a monster meant a fight, and a fight meant danger. Maybe it would be safer to avoid a fight and try to keep my mind alive inside the game. There were plenty of things to do inside a game that didn’t involve combat.

After I swung it down, another Next window appeared. I said “next” again, and with a flash, the sword grew into a long spear. I adjusted my grip to keep from dropping it. Above me, the word “Stab” hovered at the tip of its curved blade. I obliged, spinning the spear in my hand before delivering a few quick thrusts. It was more unwieldy to use than the sword, but it had a longer reach.

Could be useful in keeping more distance between me and my enemies in the game.

Once I’d gotten the hang of the spear, uttering “next” transformed the spear into a longbow. Floating beside it was an accompanying arrow.

— Shoot —

I grabbed the arrow and pulled the feathered end against the taut string, aiming for a distant tree. I was surprised by the resistance of the bowstring. I supposed it was probably realistic, but I’d never f. . .