One-Shot

I looked around.

This place made no sense.

We were standing on a giant plate. A flat, metallic disc, maybe a kilometer wide, resting on the roofs of skyscrapers like a waiter's tray balanced on needles.

One slip and you fall into the clouds. The city below was gone. Just white fog.

In the center of the disc, there were castles. Not modern buildings. Actual white stone towers, sharp and jagged. 

They looked like they didn't belong here, like someone copied a fantasy map and pasted it onto a skyline.

To my left, a sign read: "University Campus."

"Right," I thought. "School in the sky. Why not."

The light was weird. Everything was orange. The sun sat low on the horizon, refusing to set. 

It felt stuck in a permanent 5:00 PM.

I wasn't alone, at least. Luke was there. My best friend of fifteen years or so.

"Check this out," Luke said.

He pointed to the game.

A metal pipe. Rusted, thin, stretching across a pool of dark water.

I looked down.

Clear water. Too clear.

Big fish swam at the bottom. They drifted slowly over the sand. I stared at them. They stared back. Their eyes looked goofy.

"Creepy."

I checked the pipe. Slick.

I sat on the grass. Shoes off. Socks off.

I needed to feel the metal. If I couldn't grip it, I'd fall.

I piled my stuff. Backpack, socks and shoes.

My laptop was in there. My whole life.

"Don't move," I muttered to the bag.

I got on the pipe.

Cold metal against my feet. I focused. One step. Another.

I reached the middle. There was a landing spot. A yellow rubber raft floating in the water.

I jumped.

Landed it. The raft dipped, but I stayed dry.

Then, heavy footsteps on the pipe.

"Wait up!"

Luke.

He jumped without a care.

"Hey, don't-"

He landed on the edge.

I was in the middle. He hit the edge. Obviously, the raft flipped.

My side went up. His side went down.

Splash.

Luke went under.

He came up a second later, spitting water.

"You tipped it!" he yelled.

"You jumped on the edge," I said. "You know how levers work, right? It's basic physics!"

Then, my stomach dropped.

Not because of the raft.

"Class."

I had a lecture. Right now. The amphitheater.

"Shit."

"Help me out!" Luke shouted.

"Can't. Sorry, I’m late!"

"What about the prize?" He shouted again.

"You get it!" I yelled back over my shoulder. "I'll check it out later!"

I scrambled off the raft and ran. I didn't look back.

Running.

Then, sitting.

One second I was wet and running, the next I was sliding into a cold stone seat.

The classroom was outside. An amphitheater on the edge of the park. Wind hit my face.

I looked at my feet. Barefoot.

Great.

I dug into my pockets. Socks. Somehow, I had grabbed them.

The professor was talking. Something boring.

I didn’t really pay attention since I was trying to wear my socks.

I needed a pen. So, I reached down.

My hand hit stone.

I patted the bench.

Empty.

I checked under the seat.

Nothing.

My blood turned cold.

"The grass."

The bag.

I left it on the grass.

I stood up. The chair screeched.

The professor stopped. Older guy, kind face.

"Going somewhere?"

"I forgot... My bag."

I climbed over the seats. I bumped into another professor by the exit.

"Sorry! Move!"

He smiled. He pointed to his ear.

"Can't hear you!" he joked.

He was laughing. He thought I was playing the fool.

"I SAID SORRY!" I yelled.

The smile dropped. People stared.

I didn't care. I was already running.

Back at the game.

I looked at the grass.

Coat? There.

Shoes? There.

Bag? Ther-

Oh... fuck.

Gone.

It's gone.

Empty patch of green.

"You gotta be kidding me."

I spun around.

Crowds everywhere. A massive line for a roller coaster, people packed in.

I ran to the security.

A woman sat inside.

She caught my attention.

Deep red hair. Long. And she wasn't wearing a uniform, just a loose white dress.

And a horn. A single, curved horn coming out of her forehead.

I stared. 

Costume? Looked real enough.

"My bag," I said, out of breath. "Did you see it?"

She looked up from a magazine. Bored.

"Describe it."

"Gray. Leather. Metal zippers. Brown patch on the front."

She chewed her gum.

"Yeah. Seen it. Retrieval team took it."

"Retrieval team?"

"Company called 'Australia SS'. Or something."

"Australia SS?" I asked. "That sounds fake."

"Not my problem. Call them."

I grabbed my phone. I dialed the number she pointed at.

Call Failed.

I looked at the screen.

"Foreign SIM," I muttered. "No signal here."

She shrugged. "Tough luck."

I slapped my hand on the counter. Hard.

"Hold on. Isn't this your park?"

I pointed at the roller coaster and then at her.

"You are literally sitting in the security booth. You are supposed to stop thieves, not watch them take our stuff. How can a random foreign company just walk in here and take my stuff?"

She didn't even look up. She just turned a page of her magazine.

"They are sub-contractors," she mumbled around her gum.

"Sub-contractors? For stealing?"

"Look, kid. They have a permit for this Zone. I don't get paid enough to check the paperwork."

"That makes zero sense!"

She finally looked at me. Dead in the eyes.

Then she reached under the desk, pulled out a cardboard sign, and slapped it against the window.

CLOSED.

She pointed at the sign, then went back to her magazine.

I stared at the dirty cardboard. I wanted to scream. I wanted to punch the glass.

But it was useless. Logic didn't work here.

I went back to the pipe game. Sat on a bench nearby.

"Think," I told myself. 

"They can’t really take only my bag, right?"

I watched the spot.

Ten minutes.

A guy ran by. Snagged a bag left by a kid.

I tensed up.

Wait. Watch where he goes.

He ran south. Toward the exit.

"Okay. That's the route."

I waited.

Five minutes later. Another one.

Random guy looking like a rat. Loitering. He grabbed another backpack.

"Got you."

I stood up.

Rat-face ran for the train.

I followed.

He got on. I slipped into the next car.

I watched him through the glass.

He was nervous. Shifting weight.

Two stops later, he handed the bag to a guy in a suit.

The Suit nodded. Handed Rat-face an envelope.

The hand-off.

Rat-face got off. The Suit stayed.

I followed the Suit.

He got off at a station that looked twisted. Dark concrete. Dripping water.

I followed him down a tunnel.

He stopped. Turned around.

I stepped out.

"Hey."

The Suit looked at me. "Can I help you?"

"Where are they?"

"Where are what?"

"The bags. The ones you steal. Where do you put them?"

He smiled. Cold.

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

I stepped forward.

"Don't act dumb. I saw the hand-off."

He reached into his jacket.

My hand moved on its own.

I reached for my waistband. Felt cold steel.

Pulled it out.

A gun. Black, heavy.

I stared at it.

Wait. Since when do I have a gun?

Didn't have this in class. Did I just spawn with it?

Whatever.

I pointed it at his head.

"Tell me where the bags are."

The Suit went rigid. His smile vanished.

"Don't move."

A voice from behind.

My blood ran cold.

A cold metal barrel pressed against the back of my skull.

"Drop it," the voice said.

I didn't drop it.

I ran the numbers.

"Okay," I said. Voice shaking a little. "This is stupid."

I looked at the Suit. He had his gun out now.

"If I drop it, you shoot me."

"If I shoot him," I nodded at the Suit, "you shoot me."

"If I try to spin around and pull some action movie stuff, you shoot me."

"It's a deadlock," I said. "Only logical move is to shoot your friend. But then... yeah, I die."

"Trigger's already pulled, kid," the Suit said. He looked bored. "You're waiting for the noise."

"Yep.." I sighed. "I know."

I lowered the gun.

"Look. Is it worth it? It's a laptop. Consumer electronics. Are we really dying for this?"

"If you let me go," I said, "I walk. No police. I just want my bag."

The Suit looked at my gun.

"Your bag is gone," he said. "Not here."

"Then let me go!" I gripped the gun tighter. "I don't care about the bag.”

He stared at me.

“Okay, I might care about the bag but-"

BANG!

The sound cut my sentence in half.

White light.

I woke up.

Heart pounding. Sweat on my forehead.

I stared at the ceiling, playing back the last second.

"That bastard," I whispered to the dark room. "He shot me mid-sentence."