Grave Errors

Chapter 1

Willow

“Yes, just turn it off and then back on again.” Willow stifled a sigh and tapped her pen against her knee.

“Are you sure about that? I don’t want to lose my work.”

Two seconds. That’s how close she was to hanging up.

“Did you save your spreadsheet to the drive?”

“What drive?”

Fuck’s sake.

“The place things are saved for your department. Let me just remote in—”

“Can you transfer me to someone else?”

Right. One of the guys.

“They’re all occupied at the moment.” She put on her most friendly customer service voice. “I’d be happy to create a ticket and they’ll get back to you.”

“Okay… well… maybe you could do that thing.”

Mm-hmm.

Willow took control of Barry’s PC and saved the spreadsheet to the drive—not the desktop, which was where it was currently located. The amount of icons was unreal and the open tabs in his browser made her question how the PC was functioning at all. Had he ever restarted this thing?

“Okay, it’s saved,” she said. “Now we can restart.”

“Wait, wait. Am I going to lose my searches?”

“The browser will close, yes,” she replied, perplexed.

“Don’t restart. I need those.”

“You can bookmark anything that’s import—”

“Go ahead and make a ticket.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Barry was hardly the only one who doubted her ability to do the most basic computer shit, but her shoulder was sore, making her tolerance lower than usual.

“I’ll go ahead and do that. One of the technicians should contact you shortly.” Probably tomorrow. It was almost the end of the day.

“Thanks,” Barry muttered. Then the line went dead.

Willow tossed her headset down and pinched the bridge of her nose.

She didn’t really need to put up with working as the IT Help Desk, but she was only twenty-five and wasn’t sure if she’d be mentally ready for retirement.

Every interaction like that made her second guess that decision, though.

She could pull a scam big enough that she’d never need to work again.

That’s what her friend Landon had done. He was set for life and living in Costa Rica.

It was cheaper there so he didn’t need as much money and could stay inconspicuous.

As tempting as moving to a far away tropical land was, she wanted some familiarity. She didn’t speak any other languages, and she liked having more than rain and not-rain as seasons.

She peered out the window. Spring was here and the trees were almost fully green.

It rarely snowed in Lakeview so the winter was usually brown and gray.

If you wanted to see the white stuff, you needed to drive into the mountains.

It was nice up there; towering trees and little streams. She’d rather live there than among concrete and exhaust fumes.

The lake for which the town got its name was nice, but it was too crowded.

Right, she needed to input the ticket. She entered the information into the system as politely as she could muster. Writing “has never heard of a power button” would not win her any favors.

Willow hit submit and like she had anticipated, a notification appeared stating that the technicians wouldn’t be available until the following morning. If Barry would just restart his computer, then it would probably resolve itself.

I could force it to restart…

No. Whatever. His problem.

Willow stretched her arms out, trying to ease her tense muscles.

Her keyboard and everything were ergonomic, but there was no preventing the inevitable twinges from the car wreck that almost ended her life four years ago.

She no longer needed physical therapy appointments, but she still relied on regular exercises to keep her joints working right.

She caught the eye of her coworker Selene, someone who also needed PT.

Her knee had been dislocated after a bad fall last year, but their company’s insurance had stopped covering it.

At least she had gone with Willow’s former therapist. Sarah was a sweetheart and gave Selene a full list of exercises and videos to help.

If only the surgery bills were that easy to solve.

Willow had been monitoring the donation page closely and that’s where the money from her next project would go.

A quick peek at the clock revealed it was finally 5:30, but her work for the day wasn’t completely over.

She powered her computer down and gathered her belongings. A few of her coworkers shuffled around, eager to get home for the evening. Selene offered a subtle wave and they all exchanged their usual departure fluff.

Willow’s eyes followed her shiny black boots as she trekked home. The same walk she made every day. Her apartment was only four blocks from work, which was quite convenient. She didn’t like to drive much anymore.

The walk passed quickly as she was lost in plans for the evening. Everything needed to be double-checked before it could be sent.

She approached the brick complex and fumbled with her key. It may be spring, but the chill in the air was damp.

With a click, the lock disengaged and the door swung open.

Her modest living arrangement greeted her: a one-bedroom, one-bathroom space with a sizable kitchen and living room. It was perfect.

She didn’t need much anyway. Her most valuable possession was the custom-built PC. Well, that and her collection of bone specimens and neat rocks.

A series of meows accelerated toward her in the form of her fluffy white cat Stahma.

“Yes, I know,” Willow remarked softly as her feline companion climbed up her body until she was perched on her shoulder. Stahma rubbed her little face against her cheek and the rumble of deep purrs filled her ears. “I missed you too, my princess.”

Stahma probably didn’t know her real name at this point. Willow had named her after a character from her favorite sci-fi show, but she was always cycling through ridiculous nicknames: floof, snowbaby, and so on.

Her cat hung on for the ride through the apartment while she tossed things into the daily pile by the door.

Willow searched the fridge for the lasagna soup she’d pulled from the freezer the day before. That was the easiest way to eat normal—prepare a bunch of things once a week and freeze it.

She popped it into the microwave. It would probably take a few cycles with some stirring.

The microwave hummed behind her with occasional pops. It was covered, so there wouldn’t be a mess. Stahma’s automatic feeder and water dish were still good to go.

While her computer booted up, she reviewed her horde of sticky notes all neatly lined up on the desk. Once logged in, she messaged Landon.

Ness

We good?

His status said he wasn’t there at the moment, so she stirred her soup and started up the microwave again. It would probably be ready after this cycle. If it wasn’t, she was probably going to eat it anyway since she was starving.

He replied within a few minutes.

Astra

Go ahead, Crypty.

He always called her that since her online moniker was taken from the Loch Ness Monster. She liked it since it gave the impression of slipping away undetected. Plus, she loved cryptids. His nickname just came from loving astronomy.

She brought up the program, ate a spoonful of steaming soup, and hit Launch.

Ness

Done.

And like that, she had sent off a ransomware attack to a couple of the nation’s health insurance companies.

She sat back and turned on the TV to stream a show. It was too quiet without the background noise.

A notification pinged on her PC.

Astra

Do your stretches.

Willow grimaced and set down her dish to reply.

Ness

Thanks, Dad.

He sent her a gif of a man looking disappointed.

Ness

I will.

He sent her a new gif of a person clapping.

Willow snorted and shook her head as she continued eating.

She’d met him gaming online while recovering four years ago.

He must have felt bad for her situation of losing all her money in legal fees and medical bills since he decided to bring her into his hacking scams. It wasn’t like she’d been dumping all that baggage on him, but it had surfaced over time.

Now, her debts were clear. Using their skills to help others under the thumb of the predatory system known as American healthcare felt like a noble calling.

When he first talked about involving her, she thought he was going to scam her. The broken and lonely nerd duped into sending all her money to some stranger on the internet. Especially after her last shitty relationship, she would’ve made a prime target for someone with nefarious intentions.

But he hadn’t. That made her worried about the next scam: sex.

Still, he never asked for nudes, never demanded to meet somewhere.

After a few months, he’d mentioned being gay and living with his partner.

That made a lot of sense considering her usual experience with men on the internet.

If creeps were extra pushy, she would trick them into sending her money for airline tickets, flirting right back and telling them how hot they were.

Once they sent the funds she would block them.

Of course, not after stalking them a bit and seeing if they had a wife or girlfriend.

Then, she’d forward the chat logs and any photos that had been sent to her.

As if he knew she’d finished eating, a new gif appeared in the chat of Jim Carrey dressed in women’s exercise clothes.

Weirdo.

She rinsed her dish in the sink and arranged her weights. Then, she sent him a gif saying “I’m doing my part!”

What his motivation was, she couldn’t say, but she was glad to have someone that cared. Maybe someday she would have someone to share the physical space with again.