Chapter 25
Gunner
Gunner stood in front of the bathroom mirror, admiring his new pendant.
Suki used the remains of his old one to create a glass cabochon that swirled in shades of black and purple like twilight caught in motion.
A sweep of ashes lit the miniature sky like stars.
He imagined the ones he missed were perched on one, holding hands.
Together forever.
A fat tear slid down his cheek. Horatio appeared behind him and caught it with his thumb. “It’s beautiful. I love the intricate wirework, too.”
“It looks like the inside of the portal.”
He wondered if everything everywhere was connected in some cosmic way, and his brain started to hurt. Overcome, he leaned back against Horatio’s chest, rubbing the pendant against his lip until the familiar calm returned.
“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”
Eyes closed, Gunner felt Horatio kiss the top of his head. “Someday.” Necklace safely tucked, he traced the pale line where a gaping wound had once been. “I was kinda hoping for a badass scar. Weird, right?”
“Nah. I get it. I wouldn’t mind looking tougher myself.”
“The jumbo-sized muscles aren’t enough?” Gunner reached back to feel the ridges of Horatio’s stomach. “Maybe you can show me where you’re hiding the gym?”
“We don’t need one.” He lifted Gunner’s shirt, revealing abs that were sharper than before. “See? You get hotter every day, and I need you to stop that nonsense because I’m getting cramps from all the boners.”
Laughing, Gunner pinched his nipple. “How am I getting ripped without weights?"
“It’s the pure air, food, and water. Maybe even the atmosphere.” Horatio grinned. “Plus, you did a lot of pelvic thrusts and ab curls the other day.”
The joke stirred something deeper in his chest. He remembered Marcus barking at him to hold that plank for a few more seconds, dragging him outside on sunny days so he’d look less like a naked mole rat and more like an actual human.
Before Horatio, Marcus was the one who’d reminded him that he was worth taking care of.
“Crap—I need to check my phone.”
Six messages, all from Marcus. He read them out loud, guilt rising by the second.
“Wow. That dude is losing his mind.”
“I can’t just leave him hanging, but I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell him you met someone and you’re having a wild weekend in Atlantic City. It’s sort of true-ish.” Horatio took the phone and snapped a selfie—Gunner in full view, Horatio blurred and half in frame—like a secret lover.
“I can work with this.” Gunner smiled while he typed.
Hey, Marcus. Remember when you told me to figure things out? Well, here’s proof I did. Yes, he looks like him. Guess I have a type. Having a kickass time in Atlantic City. I promise I'll keep you updated, unless my hands are busy. PS: love you, bro.
He hit send and exhaled. “I’ve officially come out to everyone that matters.”
“He didn’t know?”
“He knew before I did, so all I did was tell him he was right.”
The phone pinged. Of course, Marcus would answer right away. He read it out loud.
DUDE. I’m so fucking HAPPY for U.
He TOTALLY looks like him—that’s CRAZY.
Keep in touch or I’ll kick your ASS.
-Marcus
PS: I AM PROUD OF YOU. *rainbow flag*
Grinning, he pocketed his phone and followed Horatio to the elevator.
“What a cool dude. Tell me about him.”
“Freshman year, I walked into my dorm and saw this huge jock. I braced for the usual crap, but he tossed me a game controller and said, ‘Loser buys pizza.’ Instant best friend.” Gunner blinked away tears.
“Marcus is a psych major—helped me through some dark shit. I hate lying to him, but like you said, no one on Earth is ready for this.”
“I sure wasn’t.” Horatio cupped Gunner’s chin. “Kiss me, boyfriend.”
Horatio Slice is my fucking boyfriend. Whose life is this?
Tingles rippled from his lips to his toes, and when they finally exited the elevator, Gunner had to check to make sure his feet were on the floor. In the kitchen, they found Seven slumped over the counter, scowling.
“What up, buttercup?” Horatio asked.
“Fucking Meridian and his fucking impenetrable firewall. My brain hurts, and I’m ready to shove a pen into my frontal lobe.”
Gunner tucked hair behind his ear. “Need some help?”
Seven brightened. “Are you up for it?”
“I’m great, let’s do this.”
“Can I tag along?” Horatio asked. “Nothing gets me hotter than watching two computer geeks nerd out.”
“As long as you keep your trap shut and your pants open,” Seven said. “Sometimes I need a quick bang to reboot my brain.”
“Can do.” Horatio shot him with a finger gun.
After three servings of omelets and too much coffee, Seven led them to the cockpit. The place was a shambles. Scrawled notes and empty beer bottles covered every surface. A cracked dry-erase board was left to die in a corner. Gunner felt right at home.
Until he noticed the creepy message blinking from every monitor.
SORRY, NOT SORRY, ABOUT YOUR DEAD TWINK.
Gunner sank into Snake’s chair. “Meridian’s really upped his asshole game.”
“His most recent hack. I made it my screensaver for motivation.” Seven turned toward Horatio. “And if you even whisper the word ‘surrender,’ Slayer, I’ll staple your lips shut.”
“Okay, okay.” Horatio sat next to Gunner. “Get to hacking.”
Gunner cracked his knuckles. “This is going to be fun.”
“It hasn’t been so far, but there’s always hope.” Seven slid Gunner a folder. “Everything I’ve dug up about Meridian. Reads more like a resume than the scandal sheet I’d hoped for.”
“Any photos of him without a mask?” Horatio asked.
“None. Someone’s scrubbing his digital footprint cleaner than Sugar’s wax job. Look in that folder for his official royal portrait.”
Gunner held up the photo: Meridian in a black masquerade mask, one gloved hand hiding his mouth. “What an absolute chode.”
“His hair is to die for, though.” Seven’s eyes went dreamy. “Can you imagine grabbing a handful and—” He cleared his throat. “Yanking his head off?”
Horatio’s jaw flexed. “One day, I will.”
“But first, let’s see what he’s hiding.” Gunner rolled his chair closer. “What’ve you tried so far, Seven?”
“I’ve used a data miner, hyper-pick, several Trojans, multiple Dragon Tongues, and a program of mine called ‘The Cherry Smasher.’ Just when I’m close enough to slip my dick inside, the firewall’s anus clamps shut.”
Gunner’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “I usually start with a bit of recon, just to see what I’m dealing with.”
Seven grinned. “A little foreplay. Nice!”
Horatio flopped backward in his chair. “You guys are killing me with the dirty talk.”
“If you’re lucky, you’ll get to watch us fuck Meridian’s… database.” Gunner’s brain hummed as he fell into the zone. “Damn. This firewall’s a fortress wrapped in razor wire and guarded by a zombie militia armed with machine guns. But too bad for you, Meridian. I like breaking things.”
“You’re using ‘Fire in the Hole’?” Seven whistled. “That’s some dark tech, my friend.”
“I won’t push too far. Slithering in and disappearing without a trace is kinda my jam.” Gunner frowned as he found his first roadblock. “It knows I’m here.”
“It did this to me last time. Pull a Rabbit, a U-turn, and a Double Indemnity.”
“You read my mind.” Fingers cramping, he found a way out, and then, an unexpected back door. “Ha. They left a window cracked. I’m in.”
“You’re fucking kidding me!” Seven yelled.
“Don’t celebrate yet. It could be a trap.” Gunner’s pulse hammered. “I don’t want to get stuck in a maze loop. I’ll make a hidey-hole and regroup.”
Seven shook his head. “You’re out of my league.”
“Nah. I have tech no one else has access to, stuff dreamed up by a tragic genius who died long before I was born.”
“Are you talking about Nikola Tesla?”
Gunner’s nads went cold. “How do you know about him?”
“Not everyone who’s lived on Earth was born there.” Seven’s eyes blazed. “Your government stole his data and made him disappear. How did you ever dig it up?”
His mind threatened to eat itself. “I hacked the Central Intelligence Agency.” Gunner frowned.
“It was suspiciously easy, like someone wanted me to find it.” The memory gave him chills.
“I downloaded as much of his data as I could. That’s how I designed my machine.
It’s all on my laptop if you want to see it. ”
“You hacked the CIA?” Horatio threw his hands up. “I used to consider myself a highly intelligent person, but I’m a dope next to you super geniuses.”
“We can’t play Tchaikovsky on a guitar. Everyone has a superpower,” Gunner said. “Besides, I’ve had my IQ measured, and it’s not all that impressive.”
“A scientist proved it’s impossible to accurately measure a person’s IQ.” Seven brushed an invisible crumb from his suit jacket. “And that scientist is me.”
Gunner’s jaw went slack.
“I would love to peruse the Tesla files. In bed. With your cock up my ass.” Seven gestured to the keyboard. “But first, show me all your sexy hacking skills.”
Nether regions throbbing, Gunner resumed. “I found a folder. Let’s open it.” The monitor blinked three times. “You didn’t like that? Too bad.” He closed and reopened the folder, causing the same sequence of blinks.
“I think it gave us the green light.” Seven gripped Gunner’s knee. “Open that first file.”
Strange symbols marched across the screen—archaic and unsettling. When Gunner tried to take a screenshot, the system kicked him out.
“We spooked it,” Seven said. “Go back in. I’ll grab a pic with my phone.”
“This is weird. They remind me of Egyptian hieroglyphics.”
“They’re the same shade of green as your portal,” Horatio said.
“That’s… not normal,” Seven muttered. “This isn’t AI. It’s actual intelligence.”
Gunner’s scalp prickled. “This is beyond anything I’ve seen.” He hovered the cursor. “An .exe file? No thanks.”
Seven groaned. “Run it.”
“What if it bricks the system?”
“Think about it. Every freaky thing we’ve seen has a common denominator.” Seven pointed to the symbols. “This color.”
“Maybe whoever’s on the other side wants to take down Meridian, too?” Gunner asked.
“We can’t be the only ones looking for dirt on that asshole,” Horatio said.
“My thoughts exactly.” Seven passed Horatio his phone. “Capture it on video so we can watch it during our celebratory orgy.”
“Kick ass.” Horatio got them in frame. “And… action.”
Gunner’s hand trembled as he clicked ‘run’.
The screen went black.
Then green.
A high-pitched shriek tore through the speakers. The air thickened—sharp, metallic, with a hint of sulfur.
Fear stroked Gunner’s spine. “Can anyone else taste the air?”
Seven nodded. “I hope we’re not frying the mainframe.”
“I hope we’re not conjuring a demon,” Horatio said.
The monitor pulsed harder—bowing outward as if something inside was trying to push its way free. A voice bled through the static.
“De Ceeda. De Ceeda. De Ceeda,” it cried, increasing in volume with each beat.
“Someone’s trying to talk to us!” Gunner shouted. “What language is that?”
Seven shook his head. “It’s making my teeth hurt.”
“Shut it down!” Horatio shouted.
Seven pounded on the power button. “It won’t let—”
A sonic boom exploded through the cockpit, knocking them out of their chairs.
The lights flickered once. Twice.
Then nothing.