Chapter 16

"I'm doing the right thing," Jacob Hardesty said as he reached under his daughter's armpits and pulled her to her feet.

She slumped into dead weight and half-heartedly tried to pull out of his grip. 

"Come on," he said. "I'll explain everything."

She tried to take several wobbly steps to the side, but his grip was much too strong for her weakened state. 

"Let me go," she whimpered. "You're not him."

"Vanessa, baby, listen. I'll tell you everything you want to know. You just need to get in the car." 

She tried to protest more, but her words came out liquefied and nonsensical. She crumpled in on herself, lifting her feet slightly and making herself heavier. 

He half-grunted, half-laughed. "After the day you've had, I understand why you're upset. Just … help your old man out, huh?"

"Not him," she croaked out. "You're not my father."

He took her by the upper arms and made her look at him. His fingers dug into the meat below her shoulder, and she winced. 

"Look at me, Vanessa. Look at me."

Despite her weariness and hysteria, she faced him. Her eyes were wet and red. Her face looked extra pale, nearly bloodless in the headlights. When she gave him this second examination, her lips trembled. 

"You know it's me, don't you?" he said. "I'll explain it all, just please …"

"NO," she nearly growled and tried to jerk away.

"Hey," he said and pulled her into a tighter embrace, snaking his left arm around her neck. "Stop trying to run. Stop it, or you're gonna hurt yourself and me, and then this will all have been for nothing."

She said nothing else. She kept her feet grounded and went limp in his grasp. She felt a lot lighter, and he smiled.

"That's my girl," he said. "Now, come on."

He guided her to the car's rear driver's side door. He took one hand away but kept the other arm firmly under her chin. All it would take was him to lower it a couple of inches, and it'd be goodnight. But he couldn't kill her, not yet. She'd made it so far, she'd earned the right to know the reason behind all this.

Jacob opened the car door and guided her toward the opening.

"Get in," he said. "Don't try to run on me. I have a car, remember. I will catch you."

Her legs locked into place. She didn't run, but she didn't let him push her into the car either. 

"If you were really my dad, you wouldn't hurt me," she said.

"I'll explain everything," he repeated. "The world works a little differently than you think. I can love you and I can hurt you for that love and it will be better for both of us, but I can't explain why until you get in the fucking car."

"Can't or won't?" she said, weary but still defiant.

"I'm so proud of you," he said.

Then, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and the waistband of her jeans and flung her into the car. She went face-first across the backseat. Seemingly compliant, she dragged her feet out of the door's range so he could close her inside.

_________________________________

Consciousness faded for Vanessa as she lay across the seat. A body could only take so much. A mind also had its limits. Today, she'd reached them both, her mental and physical limits. In the darkness that closed in around her, rat eyes twinkled like sinister stars. She didn't fall fully into sleep. She could still hear the purr of the accelerating engine as this man, her father, drove back onto the road. 

The seat fabric smelled like nicotine. It reminded her of an old car, but the seats felt freshly minted. In the brief glimpses she'd caught of the car, it looked like a newer model. She attributed these conflicting notions to her disorientation. 

A part of her wanted to sleep. Exhaustion weighed down every muscle. 

She also harbored a vain hope that if she fell asleep, she might wake up in her apartment on the afternoon of the Crusty Cory Jay show. None of this had happened. It'd just been a bad dream. Of course, she knew better.

First, beat up as she was, she couldn't sleep now, no way. Second, of course this was no dream. She knew the difference between reality and fantasy. Even as the known rules of reality bent and broke, she knew when she was asleep and when she was awake. 

And yet, her father, who she missed and knew was nearly four years dead, was driving her down some dark, wooded road.

"I know you have questions," he said, as if reading her mind. "I guess I owe you some answers."

She said nothing. She only breathed into the seat. The black kept the world obscured. The red rat eyes blinked but drew no closer. They were dream images, then, brought on by her dwindling wakefulness. So, where did the dream end and life begin?

"First, I'll address what I imagine is your biggest question. I really did die in that car accident." He paused. "Well, my body did. See, I … was buried without my brain."

Vanessa bobbed from the sea of sleep. Her eyes snapped open, seeing the spartan interior of the sedan, her father watching her in the rearview. The black unconsciousness threatened to take her again, clouding the edges of her vision.

"I know how that sounds," he said. "It sounds … Well, it sounds kinda crazy, doesn't it?"

She stirred to keep herself mentally afloat. Despite her horror, she wanted to hear this.

"It was an experiment, see? I agreed to let them upload my consciousness into the cloud. I mean, that's where everything else goes these days, so why not all my memories, hopes, and fears?" He focused on making a sharp curve, then met her gaze in the rearview again. "Who's they? Oh, I'm glad you asked."

She hadn't, but she kept listening.

"Your Uncle Phil. A lovely woman named Christa Koontz. Silber Corp, have you heard of them?"

Maybe. She didn't know.

"Well, they offered me a lot of money to take part in their experiment." He chuckled. "It wasn't about the money, though. I had my reasons. Very good fucking reasons, so I let them kill me and save my brain. Oh, why did I let you and your mother and brothers think I was dead?"

It crossed her mind, but she figured it best to let him talk. Clearly, he had a lot to say, and she was curious. She also wondered where they were going. From her position, it was hard to tell, but it seemed like they were just driving aimlessly through back country roads. All roads led somewhere, of course, but given her exhaustion and pain, the idea that she was stuck on some strange looping highway outside reality didn't seem so far-fetched.

"If the upload failed, then I'd really be dead, see? No need to give you all false hope, especially after all you'd been through."

She cleared her throat, needing to say something now.

"You knew what we'd already been through, and you still killed yourself?" she asked.

"I had good reasons," he said, an edge coming into his voice. Then, softer, "I had reasons."

"I'm listening," she said, feeling like she might be sick.

"I did it for you," he said. "I did it so you would have a better life. You deserved a better life."

"What?"

"Oh, come on, Vanessa!" He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "Do you mean to tell me you were happy? After your mother lost her fucking mind? Day in and day out, all you did was hypnotize yourself with videos of abandoned places and garbage music from that Crusty Carl or whoever he is. Then, your mom got better, and you stayed the same. You were broken. Casual sex and booze, like some Gen-X burnout … that's not befitting a young woman of your generation. You needed help, and I couldn't get through."

"What the hell are you even talking about? What the fuck!"

"Silber Corp found a way to make people slip through. All you had to do was die in the game …" He took a deep breath. His hands shook as they gripped the wheel. "But you escaped. I should've known you would've. My girl … for all your faults, you always were a fighter. So much spirit. Remember … remember when we got lost in the woods? You, your brothers, and I? You were so brave. So brave."

"You're not my father," she said. "My father is dead."

"The father who couldn't save you is dead. But I am here. I'm here for you."

She shook her head and blinked away tears, even though her eyes were dry.

"If this was all for me, then why the others?"

The father thing shrugged. "Why not?"

She propped up herself up on her elbow, never taking her eyes off him. 

"So, you let five people die because you didn't approve of my lifestyle?"

"How are you so sure those people are even real?" he asked.

"Don't fucking play that game with me."

"Vanessa Rose," he said with mock exasperation. "Such anger."

"You're surprised I'm angry after the day I've had?"

Her father tilted back his head and laughed.

"You're damn funny too," he said. "I'm proud of you, baby girl."

She couldn't remember the last time he'd called her that. It gave her an inkling that this might not actually be her father but some alternate version of him far more substantial. So, what was he? A clone? A hallucination? Perhaps …

"You're a simulation," she said. "Just like that place you sent me."

"Are you asking?"

"Whatever. Probably won't give me a straight answer anyway."

He laughed again, this time more lightly. He likely got a kick out of her apparent defiance, but this wasn't defiance. This was her not giving a fuck because what else could this fake father and his cohorts do to her that they hadn't done already. She saw no reason to fear anymore. They had taken that away from her.

But she was still curious about a few things.

"What about all the Crusty Cory Jay clues?"

"So, that's his name. I never could get it right, even when I was alive in my previous form." 

At first, she thought he'd say no more than this. He fell silent and continued driving for at least a full minute. A feeling that they might be driving in circles again occurred to her. It felt right. Then …

"Silber Corp has been watching him a long time. Some people are just dialed in on the right wavelengths."

"Whatever that means."

He sighed like he was frustrated with a small child and continued. "It means some people speak the right language or speak it in the right way and the right people take notice. No more, no less."

The engine's purr intensified; he was accelerating. She hesitated before asking her next question because she suspected she already knew how he'd answer.

"So, what happens now?"

He made a mournful sound in his throat. It reminded her of how her father, her real father, had always sounded before telling her something he knew she wouldn't want to hear. It made her wonder if something of her deceased parent did live somewhere inside this vessel. The thought made her head reel. Was it possible his brain had been uploaded? His body regrown somehow? She supposed it was. All of it was, down to the others being sims and, worse, her father's disappointment with how she'd turned out. 

God, and why wouldn't he be? She'd let Hannah die. She thought his disappointment was worse than everything else she'd been through today.

She winced at her mind's own cruelty.

No. That's just what this thing wants me to think. And this thing is not my father.

She desperately wished this were true. She so desperately wished it, she'd nearly forgotten her question until her father spoke again.

"Now, I'm going to get this car going even faster, all the way up to Avalon Vista, and I'm gonna drive it off the road." Already he was further accelerating. "It's a straight drop, right into the lake, sure to kill us both, but we'll be reuploaded, reborn. Better. You'll finally have the life you deserve. The one I always wanted to give you."

Vanessa scrambled from her prone position and reached for the nearest door handle.

"Don't bother," he said. "Good old child-safety locks."

The car sped up, fishtailing around another curve. 

Vanessa lay on her back and raised her feet. The father thing reached back to block her, but she kicked at the back passenger window with too much force for him to stop her. But not enough force to break the glass. She bellowed, not sure where this will to survive was coming from but not giving a damn. 

She pulled the media player from her pocket, likely for the final time. It couldn't play anymore songs, but for what she had in mind, it wouldn't need to. She crawled between the front seats and swung the device in a wild arc at her maybe-father's face. 

His nose sprayed blood, the way hers had bled when she hit the freakshow wall. He flung his hands from the wheel and clutched his injured face. She thought he might be screaming, but she hardly heard him over her own rage-filled cries.

The car swerved side to side. She tumbled into the passenger seat, reaching a sitting position in time to see them about to spill over an embankment. She covered her face as the sedan bumped over holes and jagged stones, plummeting downhill and disintegrating branches in its path. They burst through a deadfall, and the tires left the ground for uncountable seconds.

The car splashed into a body of water. Survival instinct kicked in and some vague memory of something she'd read online breeched the surface of her mind. She jammed her finger down on the power window control for the passenger side. The window descended with a light whine. She turned to crawl through.

The father thing reached for her. His touch ignited another flurry of rage and panic. Still clutching the media player, she rammed it again and again into his face. He tried getting his hands up to block the strikes, but the initial blows had already weakened him. 

The car began to sink deeper. The headlights and interior lights died. Her father sat there, glassy-eyed and bloody. She went for the window again. This time, she got her torso out. The cold, cloudy water soaked her top. Strands of algae and sticks clung to her arms. As the water spilled in through the open window, she tried to swim, but the father thing clamped his hand around her ankle.

"It's the only way," he yelled to her. "Please."

She kicked with her free foot, landing a blow on his collarbone. He didn't release the hold. She twisted and flailed, but he had her. The water level in the car was rising, soaking her jeans. She kicked again, this time hitting his shoulder. He held her tighter, bringing another hand on to strengthen his grip. 

Taking fistfuls of her wet jeans, he dragged her back into the sinking car, into his soaking embrace. His bloody expression shifted from wide-eyed desperation to twisted rage as he fought to keep hold of her. She squirmed against him, but his arms only tightened. It was like being in the grips of an anaconda pulling her into the devouring darkness of the lake. 

"Let me go," she cried, slapping at his face. She was too close and couldn't get enough leverage to land any serious blows. "Daddy, please!"

The water level had reached the seats, and more spilled in every second. Soon the car would fill with water and weigh her down. She took her index and middle fingers and jammed her fingernails into the nostrils of the father thing's already injured nose. He squealed as she rammed her fingertips deeper, ripping cartilage and spraying more blood. She kept her fingers in his nostrils and twisted them, scraping bone and shredding flesh.

His hold on her loosened. She removed her fingers and pushed away from him. His hands went to his face, forgetting her in his agony.

The water had reached the steering wheel. It splashed into her mouth and nose, tasting like mud. She flailed until she grabbed hold of the open window's bottom frame and heaved herself through. She swam with primal fury, an urge to live as old as the universe itself. She pumped her arms and legs, alternating breaths, swimming for a shore she couldn't see but knew had to be there while behind her, the car containing the father thing fully submerged.