“I have to kill you. You're too good.” The man in the back of the brown van had big blue eyes, watery and wide like a begging dog’s. He hadn’t looked this way when he’d offered Wyatt all the Arcade Credits he wanted in exchange for lifting boxes from the rainy street to the van’s cargo hatch. That sounded like an awesome deal to a thirteen-year-old. "The world shouldn’t make you people as good as me.” Rain drummed the roof in the space between the killer’s words. “But you’re still a child. That's why I’m so sorry." Thin white hands gripped twin Bowie knives. Wyatt sobbed and thought of his mother but before the man could stab him, a wire caught the would-be killer around his neck. Neon from the Arcade’s window glinted off metal. The droid beeped …show more content…
Wyatt always loved that movie. But if he got dropped into that world he couldn’t imagine himself a victim. In the Arcade, he had one of the top stealth-kill scores for his age group. Everyone wanted him in their Party. President Nancy Regan’s voice came through on the radio, and the First Lady-turned-President’s feminine voice snapped him out of his reverie. He wanted to be a good son and brother. And that's why, after who or whatever held that wire had done its work, Wyatt made a break for the back door of the …show more content…
The ocean was like a second home. Hanging out here would give him time to think about what had just happened to him in relative safety. The droid got the old guy with the knives. Had Wyatt seen his body in the back of the van after he’d keeled over? No. So what happened to him? And what did he mean about too good? Was it his Arcade scores? The police reports always said that kidnappers stalked the ones they took. But something about that didn’t seem right. Wyatt splashed his hands around in the water a bit, held one up, looking for the Big Dipper in the sky. All the light pollution around Pompano made it hard to see stars but this stretch of sky wasn’t like that. Could he be further up the coast, some place without much night-life like Boca? He had no idea. At any rate, he couldn’t find a single familiar star in the sky. If he wanted to get his bearings, he’d have to do it onshore. He flipped over, then practiced his best breaststroke. Wyatt was rewarded for his efforts in his YMCA class. Sand squished under his feet, familiar even through his sneakers. Growing up practically on the beach had given him an advantage here. But why the droid which had declared him "high potential," whatever that meant, would up and dump him in the ocean was beyond Wyatt's comprehension. At least he'd been dropped near enough to the shore to get