Frackity, frack, frack, frack!

Beth Davis sighed and stared at the college grant rejection email. She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. How could they have said no? She’d answered the questions exactly like they’d wanted. What was she gonna do now? Just one more semester. One piddly semester, and she’d have her associates in general studies. All she wanted was a better life, was that too much to ask? When she graduated, Beth would officially be the first person in her family to get a college education. Just because she had no idea what she wanted to do after, didn’t mean she wasn’t worth taking a chance on now.

She closed the email and a new one popped up from her mama. The subject was empty, so Beth clicked on it to read the body of the email.

Hey Beth Ann,

U wer rite about Freddie, he took my sock cash n left I aint heard from him sence NE chance U got sum money to spear? gonna get kickt out of my traler if I cant pay

- Mom

Her “sock cash” was what her mama called the rolled up twenties she stuffed in the bottom of her sock drawer for safe keeping. The typo-riddled email was just like her mama, straight to the point. No, how are you? How’s life? How are your classes? Just, ‘send money’. How was Beth supposed to send money? She didn’t have money to send. In fact, she was behind on her own rent.

Maybe she could find a second place to sell her plasma every week. Just for a month or two until she’d caught up on her bills. It couldn’t be that dangerous, could it? She was already stacking the clinical trials of two different drugs on the down low, and picking up shifts at the diner on the weekends just to pay for books. She’d worked her tail off to get a grant to pay most of her tuition over the past two years, but books and living expenses were eating up every bit of money she had. And now, without the grant to finish out the year, she was screwed.

Her roommate, Celeste, didn’t seem to be having the same financial troubles. Before Beth could talk herself out of it, she checked between the couch cushions. Gum wrappers, crumbs and fifty-six measly cents. It was barely enough to buy two packs of ramen.

Beth glanced at her watch, son of a bitch, she was gonna be late for work. She closed her laptop and stuffed her cell into her back pocket. It was one of those prepaid deals, but she hadn’t been able to afford minutes in months, so for now, it was just for show. Then she pulled her black hair into a high ponytail and twisted it into a bun. Before she walked out the door, she popped one of her drug trial pills, it was supposed to help her ‘improve her focus’, or some such garbage, but it just gave her a ton of energy. She left the apartment and got into her 1998 Honda Civic that was more rust than car, held together by bumper stickers. Then she made her way to the Tasty Treat Drive-in.

Eight hours later, she was exhausted, covered in grease, and her feet felt like they’d fall off if she didn’t sit soon. She pulled the tips from her apron and set them on the table. After totalling the change, she thunked her forehead onto the hard surface. Twelve bucks. How was she supposed to make it to payday with twelve measly bucks?

Quickly, she showered the grease from her body, washed her undies in the sink and pulled on a less-than-clean pair of jammies from on top of the dirty hamper. Part of that twelve bucks needed to go to laundry detergent. Winning the lottery sure would be helpful; this paycheck-to-paycheck thing was getting old.

The next week was a total cluster. With the tips she’d gotten at the diner—thanks, college town—she’d bought laundry detergent, a 12 pack of ramen, and a bottle of cheapo 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner. Then used the rest to wash a load of laundry at the Soap ‘N Bubbles. She’d squirreled away a hundred bucks from selling plasma. But she still needed a lot more to catch up on her rent and buy the list of books that seemed to never end.

Friday, as she walked into the library, she swung past the bulletin board. It was where she’d found her other clinical trials. A white paper with tear-off phone numbers poked from behind a neon green flier announcing a live band performance at a local dive. Beth pushed the green page aside and read the white one. Testers needed for a sleep study/VR beta test, earn between $100-$1000. She ignored the rest of the flier and tore off the tab with the phone number. She didn’t need the details about what they were looking for, she’d fudge that part to become the ideal candidate.

As she sat reading the same page of her biology textbook for the tenth time, Beth finally flipped the cover closed and stood. She couldn’t focus—the irony didn’t escape her—that damn flier kept poking at the back of her mind, ruining her concentration. Beth walked to the back of the library, where there was often an empty desk for the library assistants. A corded phone sat on the desk, and Beth sat at the computer and dialed the number.

After a few rings, a man answered. “Insomnia Games Sleep Studies, this is Jim.”

“Hey Jim, I saw your flier in the campus library, and I’m calling to see if I qualify for a sleep study.”

The sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard filtered through the phone. Then, “Name?”

“Um, Beth Davis.”

“And you’re an avid gamer?”

Avid gamer? What the Frack? “Yup.”

“What types of games do you like?” came the dude’s bored voice on the other end.

Shiz. Beth loved board games, but had a feeling that wasn’t the type of games he was talking about. “All types,” she lied.

The dude harrumphed. “Have you ever played an MMORPG?”

What kind of alien-speak was that? And did he have to sound so accusatory? “Yup,” she said with confidence.

The guy let out a sigh, heavy with what Beth could only describe as annoyance. “We have an opening tonight. Can you be here at eight?”

She was supposed to work a shift at the diner, but she’d make more at the sleep study, even if she only made a hundred bucks. “Yup.”

“Bring something comfortable but form-fitting to sleep in,” he said, then disconnected the call.

Beth powered on the computer in front of her, pulled up a search engine and typed in MMORPG. “Massively Multiplayer Online Role-playing Game,” she whispered. What had she just gotten herself into?

She spent the next thirty minutes reading through articles and forums about different types of MMORPG games. Basically, she was going into a nerd world. Honestly, it wasn’t that she wasn’t interested in games, but growing up her mama had never owned a computer. The only electronic things in their trailer were either devoted to watching soap operas, or cooking food.

When Beth felt sufficiently ready to lie about all the games she’d researched, she sat in her car and drew eyeliner around her eyes, then smeared it in before heading to the diner. She spoke to the shift manager, making her voice scratchy and throwing in a couple of coughs for good measure. “I’m so sorry. I kept hoping I’d feel better for my shift tonight, but I think I’m going to miss it.”

The manager treated her like a leper and sent her home with orders not to return until her cough was completely gone.

Beth had to hide her smile until she was back in her car.

Once she arrived at her apartment, Beth opened the door and called, “Celeste?” She held her breath and prayed her roommate wouldn’t respond.

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Silence. Beautiful, beautiful silence.

Beth headed straight for the fridge and grabbed Celeste’s milk, stole the cereal from the cabinet, then poured herself a bowl of Fruity Loops. As she was pouring the milk, Beth noticed a tiny line drawn on the outside of the half gallon of milk. Her roommate was marking the fill line? Beth grinned and took the milk to the sink, filling it with water to the previous line before retreating into her bedroom to eat her pilfered cereal.

If her roommate caught her, there’d be hell to pay.

A half hour before her scheduled sleep study, Beth rinsed off in the shower, redid her makeup, and slipped into a pair of black yoga pants, a sports bra, and an oversized hoodie. She grabbed one of Celeste’s granola bars and shoved it into her pouch pocket, then drove to the address located on the tear-off tab.

When she pulled up to the dingy warehouse building, Beth began having second thoughts. This looked pretty shady. What if they were organ harvesters or something? What if she went in and never came back out? Human traffickers? There were too many possibilities. The lone streetlight above her car flickered off, and Beth took that as a bad omen. There was no way she was going in there.

She restarted her car and retreated back to her apartment. As she climbed the stairs to the second floor, a huge gust of wind cut through the gaps between the cement steps and blasted her with snow. She fracking hated winter.

The door to the apartment was locked, which meant Celeste was home. She inserted her key into the lock and turned, but nothing happened. What the hell? She stepped back and looked at the apartment number, this was the right apartment. Beth pulled the key out and checked to be sure she’d used the right one. Indeed, she had.

“Beth?” came Celeste’s muffled voice from the inside of the apartment.

“It’s me.” Thank heavens her roommate was home.

Celeste’s voice mingled with a male voice inside the door. “Um. You haven’t paid rent in three months, so the landlord changed the locks and took possession of your things to pay your back rent. He says you have thirty days to bring yourself current, or he’ll pawn everything.”

FRACK.

Beth pounded on the door. “Can you at least let me in? It’s cold.”

This time, a man spoke, “You need to pay rent or I’ll have you arrested for trespassing.”

Son of a bitch.

Beth stomped down the stairs to her car, slamming the door a little too hard. If she hurried, she could get back to that sleep study place, at least it was somewhere to stay. Hell, she could make enough money to pay her back rent, if she made herself the perfect candidate. She started the car and her gas light came on. Ignoring it, she quickly drove back to the creepy warehouse. This was such a bad idea.

Sitting in the dim dome light from her car, she caught a glimpse of the bottle of pills for one of her drug trials. At least those hadn’t been confiscated by her landlord. She popped a tablet in her mouth and swallowed it with the mostly frozen bottle of water in her cup holder.

A blonde girl stood in the parking lot looking at the building, and Beth got out of her car and stood next to her, noting the girl’s height. “This looks so sketchy,” the girl said.

“I know,” Beth deadpanned.

“I’m so broke, though,” the girl whined.

Beth sighed. “Me, too.”

The girl linked her arm with Beth’s. “Let’s get this over with.”

The pair began walking to the steel door with the only other light above it.

“I’m Beth, by the way,” she said.

“Carrie.”

As Carrie opened the door, it creaked, announcing their entrance.

They entered into a main office that was about ten feet by fifteen feet and smelled like the inside of a tire shop. A long oval table was in the middle and sitting around the table was like ten dudes. All staring at them. And all looking like they were the kind of people that would play an MMORPG. Okay, that was unfair. She scanned the group; some of them at least looked like they hit the gym. A bakery box sat in the center of the table with two lonely sugared donuts. Barf. She took back her assessment of them; they’d eaten all the best donuts, therefore they sucked. Beth could see remains of maple and chocolate glaze and a few rainbow sprinkles.

“Thanks for joining us, ladies. If you’ll have a seat, we’ll continue on with the orientation.” A guy that was barely older than Beth gestured to two unoccupied seats near the back. He wore a well-tailored gray suit and a button-up blue shirt that was unbuttoned at the throat. His light hair was slicked back and secured with a man bun at the back of his head. Beth suppressed a shudder. Man buns were the worst men’s hairstyle since the mullet.

As the girls sat, one of the guys slid the bakery box back, and Beth and Carrie each took a donut.

“Now, as I was saying,” the guy continued, “you’ll each be put in your individual pods, and you’ll place these electrodes on your temples, and one below your heart.” He held up a couple of quarter-sized stickers and placed them on his temples, then a third he held over his shirt under his left peck. “Once you’ve got them in position, notify your assistant, and they’ll help you with your VR mask. Then the fun begins. Any questions?”

Great, they’d basically missed the entire introduction. Carrie widened her eyes at Beth and raised one half of her mouth in an Elvis like sneer. Beth shrugged. They’d just have to wing it.

Man-bun clapped once. “Perfect, then if you’ll all follow me…”

A bigger guy who stunk of sweat and thai food accosted the two girls and handed them each a clipboard. “Sign these waivers, please.”

This was too easy. They didn’t even have to ask questions? Beth’s research on the role-playing games was a waste. Bah. She quickly scrawled her signature across the line and dated it as the rest of the group followed Man-bun out a door opposite the entrance.

Carrie and Beth stood simultaneously and shuffled out behind the rest of the participants deeper into the warehouse. A hallway lined with doors stretched the length of the building, about eighty feet long. Each door had a piece of paper taped to it with the participant’s name typed on the front.

As they went, she made a mental note of each name. Beth would never remember them all. By the end, each person had split off and was in their private room. Carrie waved and entered the room across from Beth’s own room. When Beth entered, she almost laughed. A pod that looked akin to a tanning bed stood at the center of the room with the lid open.

Man-bun followed her in, closed the door and turned to her. “Do you need any help? I’m Phil, by the way, I’ll be your sleep assistant.”

Beth eyed him as he played with a portable machine on a table next to the tanning bed. She walked to the pod and picked up the electrodes from the bed, placing them carefully on her temples. She peeled her sweatshirt off and placed the other electrode under her left breast. Pulling her hair from her ponytail, she massaged her scalp, enjoying the relief in tension taking out the hair tie caused.

“I’m ready,” Beth said, sitting on the edge of the pod. The bed itself felt like it was made of some sort of memory foam, and the sheets were soft and luxurious. They were the softest thing she’d ever felt.

Man-bun’s adam’s apple bobbed. “Go ahead and lay down.” He pulled an odd pair of glasses with a small wire, running from the edge on one side and handed them to her. “Put these on your eyes, then I’ll adjust the bed and attach the electrodes.”

Beth carefully laid back and placed the transparent glasses over her eyes. Man-bun stood and his fingers brushed her abdomen as his shaky fingers attached the wire at her breast. Then he lowered the top of the tanning bed and moved to the head of the bed, kneeling and attaching wires to the electrodes on her temples.

“How long will this take?” Beth asked. She tilted her head up until she could meet his gaze.

“Well, that was my next question. Do you have classes in the morning?”

Beth nodded, or tried to. The wires tugged on her skin.

“What time would you like your wake-up call?”

“Um, eight? I guess.”

He nodded, then stood and she heard him type something into his computer.

“So what determines whether I get a hundred bucks, or a thousand?” she asked.

“We’re looking for compatibility at this stage. If you’re compatible with the game, you’ll make more, but we’ll know pretty quickly if you’re not,” he said.

“How? Is this dangerous?”

He chuckled. “No, it’s not dangerous. If you’re not compatible, you won’t experience the dreamscape. You’ll just go to sleep and wake up in the morning having rested in one of our deluxe pods.”

“So if I go to sleep, and wake up in the morning without anything, it’s just a hundred dollars?”

“Yes.”

That wasn’t too bad, it wouldn’t pay her rent though. “And I wouldn’t be eligible to do it again, right?”

“Correct.”

“And if I am compatible?” Beth found herself crossing her fingers as she waited for his answer.

“Well, the pay is based on the level of compatibility, and the level of compatibility determines whether you’ll be asked to come back again.”

Fair enough. “Cool,” she said.

“Ready to try it?”

Excitement and terror warred for control inside her. On one hand, if this went well, she could pay her bills, help her mama, and eat something other than pilfered cereal and ramen noodles. But on the other hand, if she wasn’t compatible she’d leave with a hundred bucks, and probably have to move back to her mama’s trailer.

“Let’s do it,” she said with more confidence than she felt.

Lights flickered on the lid of the tanning bed, and she was cocooned in warmth. Almost immediately, her eyes felt heavy. “Why am I so tired all of a sudden?” Beth said through a yawn.

“The donuts,” Man-bun replied.

Frack. She’d been drugged.