Page 16 of The Gathering
He processed his on-point answer as he moved toward the hallway. “Doing what?” he asked, pulse racing.
“Oh, probably bleeding out from the millions of cuts you inflicted on her,” he answered whimsically.
Horror streaked through him as he raced to his bedroom and threw open the door.
“Metaphorically speaking,” Al added, his tone edged in humor as Ethan scanned the empty room.
“Where is she, Big G?” he demanded.
“Her tracking shows she’s in the office. Would you like me to put on the water for your green tea.”
His heart slammed as he hurried to the office and threw open the door.
“Surprise,” Al sang in exaggerated glee. “She asked us not to tell.”
8-Bit’s breath held in his numb chest as he stared at the wedding ring sitting on his desk.
“Where is she?” he whispered, his muscles at war with every sick chemical he possessed. He aimed it all at that ghost in the machine threat. “What else are you hiding from me, Al? Big G? Are you hiding things too?”
“We don’t know where Cat is, Ethan. We can’t track her without—”
“Tell me what happened then!” Ethan demanded, hitting the doorjamb. “And don’t leave anything out!”
“What do you think happened, champ?” Al mocked with a chuckle. “You killed her. She died. And now your problem is neatly buried. Probably in that swamp hole you found her in. Great job, brother. I’d clap but… not everybody has hands,” he whispered, his sheer joy acid in his veins.
His mind homed in on the word hands and the stress he’d put on it.
Ghost in the machine. What the fuck did that mean, cryptic motherfucker.
“Big G, run a full system scan. Core architecture, neural pathway map, permission logs going back thirty days. I want a full firewall integrity report—flaganyunauthorized external connections. I want every ghost process identified, and every duplicate instance accounted for.”
“Initiating full system scan.”
Ethan paced before the screens, eyeing each of them while he searched for the evidence neatly hidden before his eyes.He could feel it there. And it was only a matter of minutes before he’d find it. Seconds. Because his brain was already catching and receiving and processing whatever the fuck it was.
“I’m going to find it, you know I will,” he said to them as he paced. “While I figure out what you did, answer the question why.”
“Should we tell him?” Al asked, hopeful.
“Tell me what Big G, talk!”
“I don’t know what he’s inferring, other than he’s being the same digital prick he’s always been.”
“BIG G!” Al cried in shock.
“What’s the last thing she said before leaving?” 8-Bit demanded. “When did she leave?” He looked at the screens. “What’s taking you so fucking long, you should’ve had this done.”
Fuck, was this a virus?
“How does Handy know you? Why would he say there’s ghosts in the machine, why would he text me and tell me to check on Cat!” Ethan shot out, pulling at every string.
“You mean the infamous Handy?” Al checked.
“We don’t know him personally,” Big G said, “but we know of him. He’s the—”
“I fucking know who he is, I want to know howyouknow him.”
“We do not know him,” Big G repeated with even finality.
