Down the Brink Read online

  Quitting his job wouldn’t stop the damage, either. But there was something he could do, if he had the nerve. Zach stared out the window as an idea began to form.

  CHAPTER 23

  Third Sunday in September, 2021

  Los Lobos, California

  Zach scrawled another note on his pad, then set aside the BAL-II syntax guide he’d printed out. He’d spent the better part of Saturday locked up in his apartment, studying the guide from top to bottom, trying to make sure he truly understood it. And hoping it was absolutely accurate, else he was screwed.

  He’d graduated at the head of his class, learning the ins and outs of every language the school threw at him. He loved technology. Everything about it. Hardware, software, networking, internet protocols, every single aspect of it—especially the feeling of control it gave him. He worked hard at his studies, and found he had a natural aptitude for all things tech. Unlike many of his classmates who struggled just to achieve “good enough.”

  Now it was time to test his programming chops on something that really mattered. Without someone else to confide in, let alone desk-check his work or give it a formal test run. He hoped he was up to the task. He didn’t dare involve anyone else—especially Sammy—in what he was about to do.

  And he had to get it right on the first try.

  The Payoff module changed rarely, if ever. He never heard of anyone having to relink their code to a new version. It was always the other way around. They constantly added new code or made changes to existing code in the game itself, and had to make sure to call Payoff. Surely someone kept an eye on Payoff at some level. Or maybe they assumed the layers of security kept it safe. No matter, he had to make it look like nothing had changed.

  So that eliminated simply overlaying Payoff_External with the harmless Payoff_Internal. Payoff_Internal was a noticeably smaller file. The trick would be to rewrite the external version with the same amount of code as the original. That way, the file size wouldn’t be a dead giveaway that someone had hacked it.

  He had to make the module generate subliminal video messages that were the opposite of the ones it generated now. Instead of aggression, peaceful thoughts. It seemed he could do it with an “inverse switch” unique to BAL-II. Or so he hoped.

  Zach scrutinized the source code for Payoff_External line by line, carefully noting all the places he would need to insert the inverse switch. The code could have been tighter, which made his job harder than it needed to be. Similar logic appeared in multiple places, depending on the number of times the player had hit the goal in the last time period. He had to wind through every branch in the code to make sure he didn’t miss a spot.

  Ready at last. Got the switch code. Got the list of all the places to insert it. Checked and double-checked. Zach scrolled back to the top of the Payoff_External source code and began, carefully crossing off each entry on his handwritten list as he went.

  Done. He took a deep breath, leaned back in his chair and rubbed the kinks out of his neck. He saved the file on his laptop’s hard drive for safe keeping, then put a copy on his thumb drive so he could take it to work with him.

  As soon as he got a chance, he’d replace the current Payoff_External with his version. It wouldn’t have any effect at first, because it would still need to be linked to the production versions of the game modules. He couldn’t possibly do that without leaving tracks. Plus, it would take too long to even try. So the plan was to just make the switch, make it without leaving evidence that he’d done it, and do it fast. MoonPop’s release schedule would do the rest of his work for him.

  Every time they made a change to the game’s programs, his new version of Payoff_External would be called from more and more places in the production code. And the more links to his new version, the more good it would do, reversing the effects of the original version in more and more people.

  Assuming he didn’t make any coding errors.

  CHAPTER 24

  Third Wednesday in September, 2021

  Elias, Texas

  Fifty-three.

  Arms trembling, Gil held himself at the top of the pushup for two more beats. When he got out, he’d have to take on as much work as he could get to make up for all the income he was losing while stuck inside. And he’d better be in good enough shape to handle it. Construction was not a profession for the weak and unfit.

  With so little structure in his days, it’d been way too easy to fall into a lazy routine of just lying in bed, staring at the ceiling most of the day. It hadn’t taken long for his muscle tone to degrade and his energy level to plummet. Although the energy drop could also be chalked up to justified, out-and-out depression.

  One day he happened to look down and notice his stomach had taken on the pooched-out look of a middle-aged man. That did it. From then on, he’d forced himself to work out in his cell every day, without fail. No matter how his body felt, no matter how low his mood. Pushups, sit-ups, squats, stretches, and running in place. Without weights, he could only keep it challenging by upping the reps. So every day, it took longer to get through the routine. Not like he had anything else to take up his time.

  Gil lowered himself to the clammy cement floor, contracted his abs, and pushed up again on his hands and toes, his body straight as a plank.

  “Visitor.” A guard stood outside his door, key poised at the lock. “Wanna go see her?”

  “Sure.”

  He stood, drew his arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat, then smoothed his orange jumpsuit out of habit. Not that it made much difference.

  Gil’s stomach churned as the guard led him down the corridor to the visiting room. Aggie only got out to see him every few weeks. He couldn’t blame her for not coming more often. She had to drive three or four hours—each way—just for the privilege of seeing him for fifteen lousy minutes.

  He felt pressured to make the most of each short visit, and imagined she did, too. But the pressure had the opposite effect. Instead of fully connecting with each other in the time they had, they ended up having the shallowest of conversations. Neither one of them came close to talking about their true feelings, for fear of ending the visit on a sour note. And he made sure to never, ever let on about what it was really like for him inside.

  Sometimes he wondered if it was worth the time and effort for her to come at all. As much as he hated to admit it, the visits made him feel worse, made him long for her all the more when he went back to his cold, lonely cell afterwards. Maybe it was the same for her, having to face the hours-long drive home, only to return to her empty house.

  “Fifteen minutes.” The guard opened the visiting room door and stepped aside to let Gil in.

  Gil shuffled into the room, wincing at the sound of the door closing and locking behind him. If he wasn’t used to that sound by now, he never would be. Aggie stood behind the Plexiglas partition, her eyes wide and shiny like she’d just had a good cry in the car. An uneasy smile flickered across her lips.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Gil took a seat and pressed his hand to the Plexiglas. “Good to see you.” The words felt so inadequate, so weak and thin.

  Aggie sat down and pressed her hand to his. “I miss you.”

  Gil forced a smile as they danced through the same conversation they always had. The conversation designed to fit within the fifteen-minute period. Tidy, neat and clean. Never a hint of how they really felt, what they were really going through. What it might be like when he was out. Like they were strangers on an awkward first date, only worse.

  He studied her as she spoke, barely paying attention to what she said. Whatever she was saying was just window dressing anyway, something to hold the silence at bay. She looked pale and distracted. More so than last time. Dark circles under her eyes. Must not be sleeping well. But there was something else. A greater unease in her bearing, her mannerisms, than usual.

  Was she having trouble paying the bills without his income? No sense in asking her. She wouldn’t want to worry him, and it’s n
ot like he could do a damned thing about it anyway.

  She tucked her hair back over her right ear, then quickly pulled it back down as her eyes shifted away for just a moment. But she wasn’t fast enough. Gil spotted a small mark on her neck, up by her ear. He tried to tell himself it could be something innocent, a bug bite. But he knew better.

  Heart pounding, he clenched his jaw, holding back the questions he wanted to fire at her. Who was he? How long had it been going on? The cold, airless visiting room shrunk around him, crushing him in a vice grip. He wanted to yell, to crash through the door and escape, to get his life back before it veered even more off course.

  But he could only sit there, impotent. Unable to do a damned thing about anything. He glanced at Aggie, barely able to look at her face. Her mouth was moving, but he couldn’t hear the words anymore. He just nodded weakly every so often, to keep up the charade because it was all he had left.

  One more thing they couldn’t talk about. One more thing to face when he got out.

  He was never so relieved to hear the guard open the door and declare their visit over.

  CHAPTER 25

  Third Wednesday in September, 2021

  Seco, Texas

  Home at last, Aggie sagged against the front door, then slid to the floor and drew her knees to her chest. She bowed her head, too tired to even cry. The round trip out to Elias always wore her out, but this time, the drive was the least of it.

  He knew. He didn’t say anything about it, didn’t react, except with his eyes. But he knew.

  They’d done their usual careful sidestep of all the grim realities in their lives by engaging in chit-chat, idle on the surface yet carefully choreographed to make the short visit seem like something they both enjoyed and looked forward to. Partway through, she saw the change. But only in his eyes. A quick flicker, then a complete lack of eye contact the rest of the visit. She almost wished he had confronted her about it, rather than keeping up that façade the entire time.

  She’d never known Gil to be able to hide his emotions that well. Must be some self-defense mechanism he’d had to learn to survive in there. She shivered at the mental images of all the horrendous things he might be shielding her from. Was it that bad, or was it even worse than she could imagine? Every time she visited, he looked like he barely slept. He never actually told her what his cell was like, or what a typical day was like. And she never dared to ask.

  Prison was changing them both, in ways she never would have anticipated. And now she’d added to his burden by betraying him.

  Maybe she was imagining things. No, that was wishful thinking. Toward the end of the visit, Gil’s demeanor changed. Unmistakably. Like he’d just walled himself off from her. It was in his face, his bearing. He even seemed downright relieved for the visit to end. Then he just turned to leave and forgot to blow her a good-bye kiss like he always did. Forgot, hell. And now he’s back in his cell, living with her mistake. As if he didn’t have enough to deal with, just getting by each day.

  Sighing, Aggie pushed herself to her feet and wandered into the kitchen. She glanced inside the refrigerator and realized she wasn’t the least bit hungry for dinner. Grimacing, she pressed her thumb into a particularly painful knot over her shoulder blade. Might as well just take a hot shower and go to bed. Anything to get the look on Gil’s face out of her mind’s eye.

  She went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, then stood staring at the running water, waiting for it to get hot. The doorbell rang, startling her. She turned the water back off with a vicious twist of the handle, then stomped out to the front door.

  “Who is it?”

  “Me, Lennie.”

  She opened the door just wide enough to poke her head out. “It’s not a good time, Lennie.”

  His face became a mask of concern. “What’s the matter? I brought some wine. We could have some and talk.”

  “Not tonight.” She took a deep breath. “Not again. Ever.”

  The look of concern evaporated, replaced by an angry scowl. “Wait a minute. You don’t get to just dump me while I’m standing out here like this.” He shoved the door open, barged in, and set the wine bottle on the floor. “What the hell is going on?” He slammed the door shut.

  Heart pounding, Aggie jumped out of his way. She hadn’t expected him to come by tonight, so she hadn’t thought through how to break up with him. No turning back now.

  “This needs to stop. Now.”

  “That’s not what you said the other night.” He reached for her.

  She sidestepped him, arms folded tight across her chest, as the words began to flow. “I should never have gotten involved with you. It wasn’t fair to you and it wasn’t fair to Gil.”

  He held his arms out like he was explaining the obvious to a forgetful child. “Gil is in prison. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. He won’t be home for months.”

  “He knows.”

  Lennie raised an eyebrow. “Why’d you tell him? That was stupid.”

  She spoke through a clenched jaw. “I didn’t tell him. He knows!”

  “How? How could he possibly know?”

  “He does. I saw it in his face today.” She turned her back to Lennie. “I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be. Please go.”

  Aggie flinched at the slam of the door, then rushed over to lock it in case he changed his mind and busted back in. Gasping, she leaned her head against the door and closed her eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. Images from that horrible night flitted through her mind. The door crashing in. The men. The shots. She clenched her hands and tried to focus on her breathing, slowing it, deepening it. Picturing something pleasant. A beach, the ocean. Listening to the sound of the waves.

  After a while, she felt steady enough to open her eyes. Lennie’s bottle of wine sat there on the floor beside the door, mocking her. She’d never felt more alone than she did now.

  Lennie slammed his apartment door and began to pace. He couldn’t sit still, didn’t know what to do with himself. He’d known his thing with Aggie wasn’t destined to last forever. Hubbie would be out of prison sooner or later, and no matter what else she’d done or said, she’d always been clear she didn’t plan to leave her husband for him.

  But why cut things off as sooner than she had to? And why tonight?

  He flung himself onto his couch and scowled, face in hands. Maybe if he could figure out what’d gotten into her, he could talk her back out of it next time he went over there. She did tend to run hot and cold about things.

  She had mentioned something about visiting her husband this week. Was it today? Maybe that was it. She’d gone to see him and got a case of the guilts. And he just picked the wrong night to surprise her. So much for the night of wild sex he’d had in mind.

  Lennie pulled out his cell phone, leaned back, and propped his feet up on the coffee table. Been a while since he’d had time to play MoonPop. Might as well play a few rounds. Nothing better to do tonight.

  He touched the MoonPop icon and frowned. Another goddamned update pending. He declined it, not wanting to waste time and risk it losing track of his current level. It’d taken a long time to get there, and he was close to hitting the next level. No way did he want to start over now.

  He immersed himself in the game, thumbs flying. Soon Aggie was the last thing on his mind.

  CHAPTER 26

  Third Saturday in September, 2021

  Seco, Texas

  Aggie stood in the kitchen, downing her second cup of coffee of the morning. Or was it her third? She’d slept in until nearly eleven, way later than normal even on the laziest Saturday, thanks to a double dose of Unisom tossed back with a glass of wine last night. Hard to tell if she felt rested or just foggy from self-medicating. Hard to tell if it mattered either way.

  That visit with Gil—and the look on his face—haunted her mercilessly. She’d never seen him look like that, and she hoped to God she never did again. It was all her fault, and she had no idea how she was going to undo the damage.
To make matters worse, there was that wretched scene with Lennie, and the home invasion horrors it triggered in her mind. No wonder she’d tossed and turned in bed every night since.

  She poured herself another cup of coffee and wandered through her too-quiet house. Come on, girl. Do something productive. Shame to waste the day. Again. But what? Though months had passed, she still felt completely adrift without Gil, especially on the weekends. Weekends were always their special time together because he worked so hard during the week, socking away money so he could someday open his own construction firm. That was so important to him. And now…everything he’d worked for was crumbling around them.

  Aggie nestled on the couch with her coffee and did the math in her head, the life-defining math she did every weekend. Gil should be about two-thirds of the way through his sentence now, if all went as it was supposed to. Most of the way. That was something. At some point, she’d be able to count the weeks on one hand. Then the days. This would all be over fairly soon. But then what?

  The minute they sentenced Gil and took him away, she started worrying about what it would be like when he returned, how he would have changed, whether he could get his old job back and they could return to the life they had. Those sorts of things. Normal things to think about when someone goes to prison. But then she stupidly had to go and complicate it. She slammed down her mug. If only she could take back that night when she let it all start. So much pain could have been avoided. For everyone.

  Even once she got involved with Lennie, she never for an instant intended it to be long-term. She’d been up front with him about that. And she thought she could control it, compartmentalize it, so Gil would never find out. Like it never happened.

  Aggie rubbed her temples and tried to ease the tension from her jaw. So much for that. Instead, she’d managed to inflict the most pain possible on everyone involved—and now Gil knew and had a couple of months to stew about it in prison.