Capsule Read online

  After changing into a pair of black sweatpants and a gray PE shirt from eighth grade, she entered the bathroom across the hall to wash off the makeup that had now smeared onto her cheeks. It wasn’t the best for her skin to leave makeup on during her runs, but it wasn’t something she worried about. It wasn’t like she wore as much as some of the other girls at school—that stuff was practically on in piles.

  Jackie raised her chin to face the mirror in her dimly-lit bathroom. She yanked the violet scrunchie from her ponytail and parted her damp raven-black hair off to the side. Frowning at her reflection, she thought back on how much time she’d spent choosing outfits in middle school. By the time she reached ninth grade she’d stopped putting an effort into her appearance because she wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Not even herself.

  Jackie busted through her bedroom door and flicked the lights off, filling her room with a sacred purple haze. Now for the best part of the day.

  She hopped onto the gaming chair and pulled her knees up to her chin. “Hey Siri.” Phone in hand, Jackie hugged her legs with one arm, pressing her free palm against the desk to give her chair a spin. “Call Eugenie.”

  “Calling…Eugenie,” the robotic woman replied.

  The chair slowed to a stop in front of the computer screen as the phone vibrated softly in her hand. She kicked her feet off the chair and clicked the speaker button, the ring intensifying. After setting her phone onto the desk, Jackie shook the life out of her mouse to wake the PC and typed her password at a racing speed.

  “Hey! If it isn’t JackieLantern. What’s with the call?”

  “You gonna start with that every afternoon?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Jackie double-tapped Mystery Bullets, and EugenieGenie popped up immediately. “Ready for a round?” she asked.

  “Well, I just finished a dumb bio assignment, so I guess I’m down.”

  “You’ve been waiting.”

  A pause. “Have not.”

  Jackie shook her head as she opened Discord. “Let’s switch over?”

  Eugene hung up without a response, and a Discord voice call appeared on her screen. Jackie lifted the weighted lavender headphones from their stand, slipped them over her ears, and accepted the call.

  Eugene’s voice was crisper now. “What mode are we playing?” It almost sounded like he was right next to her.

  “Bro, what mode do you think?” She hovered over the first three options, the cursor landing on Challenge.

  “Should’ve known.” Eugene gave an exaggerated sigh as their screens landed together at the starting location.

  Jackie had been friends with Eugene for nearly four years now. They’d met on a Fortnite game—you know—back when people thought Fortnite was cool. They gamed together daily, using the time to catch up on each other’s personal lives. All she knew about his family was that they’d moved to Florida when he was three and that he’d been attending online school since fifth grade. Other than the fact that he lived in a subpar school district, she wasn’t sure why he no longer went to a brick-and-mortar school—as he liked to call them—but he seemed to enjoy learning from home, so she didn’t question it.

  “How’s the run time?” Eugene said as he customized his default inventory pack—she could tell by the violent taps of his keyboard through her headphones. Setting up inventory was the only part of the game he didn’t suck at, but Jackie wouldn’t be the one to tell him.

  “Let’s just say it’s worse than your aim in COD.” She hovered between a few new starter packs before clicking her usual one, too lazy to deal with testing new keyboard combinations. “But in my defense, it was pouring today.”

  “Sounds like you’re not trying hard enough.” The opening countdown came to an end, forcing Eugene to start with his weapons half-customized. A subtle whimper escaped from his lips.

  “Yeah, whatever dude.” Jackie got in position for battle, her right hand on the mouse and her left stretched over the most common keys in Mystery Bullets. “Like you exercise.”

  “You haven’t seen my abs?”

  Jackie stifled a laugh. She wasn’t sure whether Eugene did have abs or not—she’d never even seen his face before—but the joke was funny either way.

  “So, anything interesting happen at school today?”

  “Surprisingly.” Jackie thought back to the announcement Mr. Berkshire had made this morning. “Two kids went missing over the weekend.”

  “Weird. You know them?”

  “Obviously not.”

  “Right, obviously.” He chuckled. “So I’m guessing that means you still haven’t made any friends.”

  “Don’t have to.”

  “Jackie,” he said in a mothering tone.

  “I’m serious. I already have a best friend.”

  “Well,” Eugene said, “I hate to break it to you for the millionth time, but I definitely don’t count as a real best friend.” He darted to the top of a hill, a dumb move that left him in plain sight, an easy target for anyone spawning on the other side. “Hey, there’s a group approaching from down there. You have good ammo?”

  Jackie rolled her eyes. “I’m good.” Of course the group would approach them if he peeked over the hill like that!

  “Look, I’m online schooled, so I can tell you from first-hand experience that there’s a big difference between internet friends and real-life friends. I told you about Kevin, right?” He continued anyway as Jackie approached his avatar on the hilltop. “He was so snarky in our virtual classes that our teachers had to permanently mute him. Somehow we started a streak on Snapchat and I thought he was the coolest dude. Then we all get together for this field trip at some stupid aquarium and turns out he’s the most annoying kid I’ve ever met. He smeared peanut butter on the back of my shirt thinking it’d be a funny prank. Who the hell does that?”

  Jackie peered over the top of the hill and switched to a heavier weapon. Two against four—this wouldn’t be easy. “So you’re saying we’d hate each other in person.”

  “All I’m saying is that online friends and real-life friends are completely different. They have to stay separate. If someone—grab it!”

  A limited item appeared to her right. Jackie tapped the keys fast enough to retrieve it before it could disappear. Unlimited ammo for thirty seconds. Just what they needed.

  “Yes!” Eugene continued where he’d left off. “But like I was saying, they have to stay separate. If someone were to ask me who my best friend is, you know who I’d say? Nolan. Nolan Russo, the kid I met at the Twenty One Pilots concert. I don’t say Jackie Mendoza, the girl I met playing Fortnite Battle Royale.”

  “Well you don’t have to put it so harshly.”

  “Just being honest. Maybe it’s time you make some new friends.” He tossed a few power-ups to her, and they hovered over the computer-generated grass. “The world doesn’t revolve around the internet. We have the sun for a reason.”

  “How poetic.” Jackie threw the power-ups back, ignoring his support. He was always like this, asking if she’d talked to anyone at school recently or if she’d considered joining that high school community service club Jay was in. No, she hadn’t talked to anyone—and no, she wasn’t joining.

  “I just don’t get why you do this to yourself. I find it hard to believe you’re avoiding people just cause. It’s like you’re scared to put yourself out there, and I don’t know why.”

  You try living with a perfect older brother.

  The other group rushed up the hill, and soon Jackie and Eugene were talking about nothing but the game.

  “Faster!” His shout was so loud it distorted through her headphones.

  Jackie cringed. “I’m trying here.” She aimed at the closest player in the group ahead of her, ready to shoot, but before she tapped the final key, a new window popped over the game. Eugene groaned with the disappointing h
um of the GAME OVER screen.

  “Why didn’t you shoot?”

  Jackie leaned over her desk. The pop-up was navy blue with the title CAPSULE written across the top in a simple, bold font—the same name of the app she’d deleted from her phone in class earlier. A smaller string of text appeared beneath the title. TIME IS AN ILLUSION. When she hovered the cursor over the window, the pop-up disappeared, revealing the GAME OVER screen of Mystery Bullets.

  “What the hell? We were so close.” Eugene’s keyboard clicked again as he finished customizing his default inventory. “Hey JackieLantern, you there?”

  Jackie grabbed her phone from the desk, unlocked it, and swiped to the final page of her home screen. There—right next to Clash of Clans—was Capsule. She was positive she’d deleted it earlier this morning in Mr. Berkshire’s class.

  “Yeah, I’m here,” she said softly. “Have you heard of Capsule before?”

  “Is it a game?”

  “Not sure.” Jackie frowned as she tapped the icon. “What about an app randomly downloading itself onto your phone? Has that ever happened to you?”

  PLAYER, WELCOME TO CAPSULE. The white text overlapped the dark blue screen—the same shade of blue as the computer pop-up. The font was the only defining design feature so far. It sprung across the page in the style of an old generated text adventure game.

  “Nah. Like I said, Apple’s a complete scam. You should make the switch to Android.” The sound of the Mystery Bullets menu screen chimed again. “I’m starting another round.”

  A block of text faded onto Jackie’s phone. PETER MOON. MALE. HIGH SCHOOL JUNIOR. AGE 17.

  Jackie nearly dropped her phone. Peter Moon? As in, the-boy-who-sat-right-next-to-her-first-period Peter Moon? The-boy-who-went-missing-on-Friday Peter Moon? Was it really a coincidence?

  To the right was a second block. KATHABELLE PIKE. FEMALE. HIGH SCHOOL SOPHOMORE. AGE 16.

  Kathabelle. Jackie gulped, making the connection. Kat.

  THE SUBJECTS ABOVE ARE IN DANGER. COMPLETE THE LEVELS IN TIME TO WIN THE GAME, ERASE THE MEMORIES, AND REVERSE THE DAY. READY FOR A CHALLENGE?

  A bold button slid upward from the bottom of the screen. START THE COUNTDOWN.

  No, this couldn’t be a coincidence.

  “Dude, I gotta go.” Jackie dropped her phone onto the desk and exited from Mystery Bullets, leaving Eugene without a teammate.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just gotta take care of something. Let’s talk later?”

  “Hey, watch it.” Jackie lifted the headphones from her ears, Eugene’s voice fading. “I know a later from Jackie means never.”

  She held the headphones close to her mouth, muttering into the mic. “Fine. Tomorrow then.” After hanging the headphones onto their stand, she ended the call and closed every window on her PC.

  Whatever this app was, it wasn’t a modern game. She snatched her phone from the desk, leaned against the backrest of her gaming chair, and pulled the screen to her nose. The app had no graphics. Nothing but text and lines. The strangest mystery was how it had possibly downloaded itself onto her phone in the first place. And that pop-up on her computer—how did it get there?

  She exited to the home screen, held a finger over Capsule’s icon, and tapped Remove App for the second time.

  Jackie blinked. She’d tapped to remove the app, but Capsule stood with pride.

  “Hey Siri.”

  “Good evening!”

  “Is my phone hacked?”

  A familiar ding. “Interesting question.”

  Yeah. Jackie narrowed her eyes at the screen. Interesting.

  She pressed her thumb onto the Capsule icon to delete the cursed app once again. This time, it disappeared.

  A quick swipe to the right, then back. There it was again.

  Jackie viewed her settings to find that Capsule took up no storage on her phone. It wasn’t even on the list of applications. After another unsuccessful attempt to delete it, she resorted to Google Chrome. Surely other people had experienced this. Perhaps it was a glitch with the new IOS update. Jackie searched for iPhone installing apps without permission and unable to delete app from iPhone. Both scenarios had occurred before, but they never seemed to occur at the same time. Perhaps she could be more specific. Unable to delete app I never installed on my iPhone.

  Nothing matched.

  Jackie Googled the phrase that had popped onto her PC during the game earlier. TIME IS AN ILLUSION. She found various articles studying the idea that time never flowed linearly. Apparently the quote was by Albert Einstein, who believed time was relative and flexible. In other words, all she’d managed to find online was philosophical trash.

  The only logical answer was that she’d been hacked. She did use the same email for her Apple ID and her Microsoft account, so that would explain the crossover of Capsule on both devices.

  That’s what I get for not installing antivirus.

  As her PC downloaded a free security software, Jackie updated the iCloud password on her phone. Although she tried to distract herself by wondering where the app had come from, she couldn’t ignore the fact that it mentioned Peter’s and Kat’s names. Capsule mirrored an outdated game, but Peter and Kat were real, and considering how they’d gone missing three days ago, the claim that they were in danger wasn’t hard to believe. What if whoever was behind their disappearances was also behind Capsule?

  Jackie’s head jolted to the window in a rush of paranoia, goosebumps flooding her arms. She stood from her chair, leaving it spinning softly behind her as she approached the glass and tested the window’s lock. It was secure.

  Okay, Jackie. She paced around the room, an act Eugene claimed to always help him through stressful situations. Think.

  It was hopeless. She’d run out of information to work with, and only one place could offer her answers.

  Jackie tapped the app. Her thumb hovered over START THE COUNTDOWN.

  8:08 AM

  JACKIE EMERGED FROM the bottom of the staircase with dry eyes and a mere four hours of sleep.

  Apparently she wasn’t the only one getting a rough start this morning. Mr. Mendoza sat at the dining table glaring at a laptop screen in front of him. Judging by his casual t-shirt and cotton pajama pants, he wasn’t ready for work yet.

  Across from Mr. Mendoza was Jay. His hair was a tangled mess and he wore the same gray sweatpants he usually lounged around the house in, an empty mug placed on the table to his right. Jay had never been a fan of coffee—he only drank it when he didn’t get enough sleep.

  “Can you turn those off?” Mr. Mendoza asked.

  On Jay’s phone was an endless stream of Instagram stories. Students from Brookwood either posted videos with tears streaming down their cheeks, shared photos of their fun moments with Kat, or apologized for hurting her in the past, voices quaking as though their guilt had led them to believe they were partially responsible. Everyone rooted for Kat to come home, but Peter’s name was hardly mentioned. When it was, no one had anything nice to say.

  “Jay.” Mr. Mendoza broke his gaze from the laptop screen, meeting his son’s face. “I told you to turn them off.”

  The volume of the Instagram stories faded as Jackie walked to the front entryway. She grabbed her white sneakers from the shoe rack, forcing herself to contain her grin. She couldn’t remember the last time Mr. Mendoza had ever been openly frustrated with Jay, and witnessing it had left her with a cruel satisfaction.

  “Dammit!” Mr. Mendoza closed his laptop and held it shut as though the screen might burst with more unwanted surprises. “I can’t believe they didn’t send us an email until the end of the school day.”

  Jackie leaned over and pulled her laces tight with a yank. Mr. Mendoza had already been through this. Last night he’d thrown a fuss over how their principal hadn’t alerted parents about Peter and Kat’s disappearance dur
ing the weekend. Anything she’d say either in or against her dad’s favor would only rile him up about the matter all over again.

  “Yeah, I see what you mean.” Jay finally set his phone onto the dining table. “But I guess the school didn’t want parents to panic.”

  “Well, of course we’d panic, and we have a right to.” Mr. Mendoza sipped his coffee and pulled the cup away in a jolt. It was hotter than he’d imagined.

  Jackie changed the area of focus. “Any updates?”

  “Nothing. Four days missing and no leads. It’s like they vanished into thin air.” Mr. Mendoza set his cup down and faced Jackie with a strange twist of concern hidden behind his grin. “Why don’t you two stay home today? I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you going to school before we have more information.”

  Jay looked at Jackie, wondering what her reaction to Mr. Mendoza’s suggestion would be. For the first time this morning she had a clear view of his face. His eyes were bloodshot, lips dry. Jay’s natural youthfulness had vanished overnight, leaving him aged three years older. He definitely wasn’t in the right state of mind to go to school.

  What a drama queen.

  The thought of staying home with her half-alive brother while her parents were at work left her stomach churning. “I’d rather not miss my chem test.” She redirected her attention to the laces of her white sneakers and tightened her grip onto the straps of her rucksack. “I can ask Mom to drop me—”

  “It’s okay.” Jay hopped from his seat, walked into the entryway, and plucked his Converse high-tops from the shoe rack. “I’m comfortable going.”

  “Dressed like that?” Mr. Mendoza asked.

  Jay shoved his feet into his shoes, trying to get them on without untying the laces first.

  Mr. Mendoza raised his bushy brows. “Alright then, but I’ll be monitoring the situation from work.” He set his elbows on opposite sides of his laptop and rested his nose against his interlocked fingers. “Just stay safe, okay? And call if there’s an update, because apparently the students will hear it before any of us.”