Agent Weber gave the slightest of nods, conceding the point. “It’s that or risk Kaine being able to find you. The choice is yours. Both have their pros and cons, I’ll admit.” Bryson said exactly what Michael was thinking. “I’ll take the pro of keeping Kaine off our butts, I guess.”

“Then it’s settled,” Agent Weber said, even though Michael wasn’t sure they’d quite reached that point. But no one argued. “I’ll pull you out in twenty-four hours, see if you’ve learned anything. Now let’s get you in those Coffins.”

Michael was a gamer at heart. True-blue, dyed-in-the-wool. He’d heard his dad say that once about how much he loved the Falcons, and he’d had no idea what it meant. But it seemed to apply to how he felt about Sinking. Before his life had been ripped to shreds by the VNS and Kaine, Michael had eaten, slept, and breathed gaming. It was the blood that pumped through his veins, program or not. It was a part of who he was, human body or none.

Gaming had been everything to him, and his love for it took over as he lay down in the VNS Coffin. It was ridiculous, considering all the danger and trouble, but he felt an overwhelming, familiar rush as the device did its magic—Nerve Wires and LiquiGels activating, AirPuffs extending, bubbling, and injecting. His life had become a game, the stakes ever higher, and he was ready to enjoy the thrill of it in the Sleep.

Agent Weber Sunk them to a Portal at an intersection of two streets lined with shops and businesses that he didn’t recognize. When he opened his eyes, the first thought he had was that it was good to be back. Weber had said that they wouldn’t be able to access the code like they normally could—and a quick check proved her right—but the world around them still had that overall feel of the code: the blurry edge of a building here and there, the static-like quality of some of the clouds in the sky, small sections of the road where you could see pixels if you looked hard enough. Not even the greatest programmer caught everything, and often they left glitches on purpose. Make it too realistic and people could really get screwed up in the head.

Except for Lifeblood Deep, of course. All the rules changed when it came to Lifeblood Deep.

“Where do you guys think we are?” Sarah asked, slowly turning in a circle to take everything in. Her Aura—and Bryson’s—had been disguised, leaving just enough of their old selves to make them recognizable to each other.

Michael, who assumed he was an altered version of Jackson Porter, studied the street a little more closely. A few people moved about here and there, but it appeared to be a quiet town, the buildings small, the businesses typical and unexciting. A barbershop, a café, a social club, a coding school. There was even a furniture store, which meant someone really wanted the place to feel like a real town.

“I’ve never been here before,” Bryson said.

“Me neither,” Michael said.

Sarah pointed randomly down one of the streets, mostly empty. “There are hardly any people around. And it’s the middle of the day.” Just to punctuate the point, a slight breeze picked up and scattered a few pieces of trash, which skittered across the road almost loudly enough to echo. It made the place feel utterly vacant.

“This place is like a ghost town,” said Michael.

“Spooky,” Sarah agreed. “What should we do first?”

“It’s driving me nuts not being able to see the code.” Bryson kept opening and closing his eyes, blinking as if to dislodge an eyelash or a particle of dust. “We’re going to look like idiots if we open up our NetScreens in the Sleep. Doesn’t Weber realize how important it is for us to look cool?” He shook his head.

Sarah patted him on the back. “Your ego will survive. Come on, let’s start exploring.”

They headed toward the more built-up part of town, where several tall buildings loomed in the distance. Oddly, though, the farther they went, the fewer people Michael saw. And even stranger, the few they did come across didn’t react to them at all, almost as if they didn’t see them. One woman walked by with a blank look on her face, and if Bryson hadn’t jumped out of the way, she would’ve run right into him.

“Wait a second,” Michael said. “Are we literally hidden from everyone? Can they not see us?”

“That’s about as illegal as it gets,” Bryson replied.

Sarah was gazing after the woman as she walked away. “I guess the VNS can do whatever they want. Check that out.” She pointed at the lady.

Michael watched as the woman stopped, then turned in a circle as if she were lost and trying to find her bearings. Her feet scuffed the ground as she turned around like a zombie several times, then started walking across the street, not bothering to check for cars first.

Cars, Michael thought. Those were just as common in the Sleep as in the Wake—you especially saw a lot of them in a place like this, which was trying to replicate a real town as closely as possible. But he’d yet to see even one drive by.

“What is wrong with that lady?” Bryson asked.

“What’s wrong with this whole place?” Sarah added.

Michael turned his back to the wandering woman. “Let’s keep moving. She gives me the creeps.”

Things got weirder the closer they got to the downtown area. People all but vanished. Cracks appeared in the buildings and sidewalks, then disappeared. One second they were there; then they were gone; then there again. Michael looked at a wide window of an unmarked business as he passed by and saw no reflection. Of anything, not just himself. He felt off-kilter looking at it—the surface was like glass in every way, tinted, shiny, almost opaque because of the light outside. But no reflection. He hurried past.

More glitches showed up. A light post shimmered in waves, as if it were made of water. A manhole floated up from the street like a flying saucer, then burst into a million pixels, digital butterflies that fluttered away, disappearing around a corner. The pavement buckled in places before going flat again. More and more splotches scarred the faces of the buildings, as if the code itself was starting to decay. Or someone was changing it, weakening it.

“What do you guys think is going on?” Bryson asked very calmly.

Michael wasn’t surprised at his friend’s calmness. Even though everything was a little weird, it didn’t feel scary. At least, not yet. They’d been through plenty of stranger stuff. “It might just be a part of this place,” he offered. “Weber could’ve put us in an actual game instead of a gathering spot. Maybe it is a ghost town.”