Infected

R U OK?

Perry stared at the screen. He was suddenly petrified, afraid to move. First the emails, then the call, and now this.

StickyFingazWhitey: I know you’re there, fat boy. Talk to a brotha.

Bill was one of them. One of them. He’d IM’ed as soon as Perry had sent in the form. That wasn’t coincidence.

Of course it is. You’ve been offline for days. He IM’ed you almost as soon as you came back on, that’s all.

It couldn’t be Bill; he’d known Bill for years. But if someone wanted to experiment on Perry, to watch Perry, who better to do that than his best friend? All they had to do was “turn” Bill. That was the term, turn, what they do to make double agents.

StickyFingazWhitey: Stop jerkin’ der Gherkin’ and answer me. Seriously. Getting pissed. Don’t make me smack you around, bitch.

IMs weren’t enough for Bill. Perry’s VOIP connection started to ring-Bill was trying to initiate an Internet phone call over the computer. The computer’s digital ringing sounded far too loud in the quiet apartment. what is that sound what

Perry jumped with surprise; the Triangles had been so utterly quiet he’d forgotten about them. He sucked in three shallow breaths, clenched and unclenched his fists. Did they know he’d just contacted the Soldiers? If they did…they would mindscream him any second now. Were they searching his brain? new noises. what are the new noises we are hearing

Perry grabbed the Mac with both hands and threw it against the wall as hard as he could. Plastic and glass smashed, with a bright flash of electricity. The pieces fell to the floor, leaving a scored burn mark on the wall, a fuzzy black snake marking the computer’s sudden death. what’s going ON tell US

“Nothing! Nothing is going on. I don’t hear anything.” He had to play it cool, relaxed, chillsville. He couldn’t let on that the Triangles’ hours were numbered. He had to keep them in the dark. It was only a matter of time before this game was over, and if Perry wanted to win, he had to play it cool. Just like Fonzie, honeybunny…play it cool. new noises, what are the new noises we are hearing

“Noises? I didn’t hear anything. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” no one is here no columbos anyone

“Nope, just relax, man, just chill.” Perry felt the Triangles’ oddly black emotions flowing through him. He tried to nail down the vibe; anxiety, perhaps. His own emotions-excitement, hope, fear, rage-stirred them up like a bunch of hyperactive kids dropped in the midst of the Hershey’s chocolate factory. is something wrong who is there who

Perry took a very deep breath and let it out slowly, telling himself over and over again to relax. He repeated the process ten times, feeling calm spread over his body. Discipline, as Dear Old Dad would say. Without discipline you’re no better than some two-bit cooze, crying over this and crying over that.

Perry knew he had to calm down, to chill out the Three Stooges.

“It’s okay, fellas.” Perry’s voice exuded control. “There’s no one here. Just relax. We’re all going to go to sleep now, just chill.”

Perry closed his eyes. Relaxation swept over him like a warm wind. This was not the time for weakness-if he’d ever had a moment of self-control in his life, now was the time to exercise it. You gotta have discipline, boy. Without discipline, people are going to walk all over you, and nobody but nobody walks all over a Dawsey.

He laid his head on the back of the couch. This was a game, that’s all, just like football, although this time the stakes were a bit higher than a Big Ten title. It was a game, and he was winning. A smile touched his face, only for a second, as sleep came and he drifted away.