Hard Wired Trilogy DeAnna Pearce (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud txt) 📖

down the crowded corridor. Struggling not to run and make a scene, he walked to the shop. Slow down, he repeatedly told himself.

With the shop in sight, he glanced around. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Yet he couldn’t calm his racing heart.

That was the problem with VR, sometimes you can’t convince yourself you left. Marco never worried about it before, always jumping into a program every chance he got. But now, as the paranoia hijacked his body, he wanted to tear out the port in the back of his neck. Yet if he was in a program that wouldn’t make a difference.

As a woman approached the door, he hurried ahead to open it for her. Blend in with the others. Mingle if need be. He knew how to do this, but it took effort.

“Thank you,” the older woman replied.

“My pleasure.” He followed her in, scanning the store.

Secondhand appliances and hardware littered the small shop. He headed down an aisle of hard drives for various appliances. He picked up one for a fridge and feigned interest. No sign of his mom yet. Searching every face for a clue, but only finding frustration. Maybe his mom was at home, still working late, or maybe, just maybe, he was still inside. How could he find out?

Before he could decide his next step, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Surprised, Marco spun around with a fist pulled back to strike. Instinct took over common sense.

The older man stepped back in surprise, hands raised. “Hey, I was only seeing if I could help.”

Marco shook out his hands. “Sorry. A bit jumpy.”

“I guess so.” The man straightened his uniform, and that’s when Marco realized it was Juan, the owner of the store. He was an older Hispanic man, with short dark hair that gathered gray at the temples. They had never officially met, even though Marco had researched him thoroughly.

“Juan?” Marco asked hesitantly, not sure if he should ask about his mom. If he was still inside a program, he would just lead them straight to his mom on the outside. But he felt shaky and unsure of everything. He didn’t know how much longer he could last in this limbo.

“Do I know you?” Juan asked.

“No. I’m Marco.” He glanced around for an exit. He noted the door at the back of the store if he needed it.

“Marco? Cynthia’s Marco?”

At the sound of his mother’s name, fear and hope struck Marco, and he watched Juan carefully.

Juan briefly looked over his shop. “I believe I have what you need in back. Follow me.” He started moving through the aisle. He paused after a few steps and turned back to Marco. “Are you coming?”

Should I? With no one to trust, his options were limited. His thoughts spun on whether this man’s actions were genuine, or the product of some computer program built to harvest information from him. Marco hadn’t said much, or at least hadn’t said enough to give away much information. What would following Juan hurt? Marco would either end back up in some type of program loop or not.

Nodding, Marco followed Juan to the back. They maneuvered a maze of machines and other junk littered with a fine layer of dust that made Marco’s nose itch. He led Marco to a simple door labeled “Private.” With another quick glance around, Juan opened it barely enough for Marco. Stepping inside, a small apartment came into view. A kitchenette sat in one corner with a simple two-person table. At the stove stood his mother.

“Marco.” She dropped the dishtowel in her hand and rushed to his side.

He stood still for a moment, not sure if he could trust that this was real. Was this truly his mother? Her kind face glanced up at his, eyes filled with tears. “I worried I’d never see you again.”

He stiffened. His real mom would know the last time they spoke. Stepping back, he peeled her off. “We spoke last night.”

Confusion creased her brow. “No honey. You’ve been gone for a while.”

“No. I just finished the job with Kev—” A numbness traveled down his body, and he found his way to a nearby chair. “How long?”

“That was last week.” She brushed back his hair. “Are you okay?”

“No. I’m not.” His head pounded as he struggled to straighten his thoughts. “I’m just…” He looked her in the eyes. “How do I know this is real? That you are real?”

His mom flashed a worried look to Juan and sat in front of Marco. “This is VR sickness. Your dad had it often before he slipped.” She placed her hands on either side of Marco’s face.

A memory flashed in his mind of him being small and heading to school. Back then she would touch his face in the same way, reminding him that she loved him and for him to be brave. Now, her eyes had more creases around them, but it was still her.

“Yes, I’m real,” she reassured him. “I’m your mother that made you apologize to Ms. Jenkins when you hijacked her lesson with a pet snake.”

He swallowed but didn’t know what to say or what to think.

She continued. “I’m your mother that took you on your first date with Kimmy. I even saw you sneak a kiss at the end.”

The knot lessened just a touch as he took a jagged breath.

“Breathe,” she encouraged him and wiped away at a stray tear he didn’t know he had. “I’m your mother that held you all night, the first time your dad went into a VR coma.”

This memory hurt, but it was real. The pain was real. It tied Marco to his life, to his reality.

“I’m your mother that came here, a place that only we knew about.”

“How long have I been gone again?” He struggled to go through the past week and figure out where it all when wrong. The scary part was, he still didn’t know when they took him as he went in and out of VRs so often.

“About a week. When you