Bad dream

"zzzzchrkSNNZZKKfiftyfourzzSNKRRSCCCKKKK -warkkkkzzz-"

"Anyone seen the Bad King?"

"Whatchu lookin' at? Dontchu be lookin' at me like that."

"Fuck, nigga I'm right here, where you goin-"

"I said meet me at the station- what the fuck-"

"zzcchhkk zzzzssssscrkcrckseventy threecskkkrk Newarkkkkkzzzssss-"

Torrential downpour- I scrambled under the overhang as soon as I got off the bus. The Port Authority was a miserable place to be under any circumstances, but it was especially bad in the rain.

Station guards were shoving people off the platform, into the building. Was it colder in here than I remembered? Hard to tell. Rain makes things fuzzy, anyway.

The flourescent lights cast no shadows.

"Bad King, man, come on, I need to get me some of that-"

"zzzkkkmergency Alertzzzkk chkkk chkksssrrr"

"Bitch, don't be talking to me that way-"

Nothing but static from my phone. "Look, I know the weather is shitty- Mellani! Mellani- just tell me which bus I need to take so I can get my fucking ticket and get home."

"zzzkkk kkkyou take the zzzzchhhrrr -even through zzzkk kkchkrr Newark-"

"Shit." I cut the call; the rain was screwing with the lines or something. It happened sometimes.

One of the guards pointed me towards a set of stairs, and I went obediently. Best not to fuck with them, especially not in rain like this. The stairs led down, and then down, and then a gate fell over them with a clang.

More flourescent lights, but more shadows this time. Graffiti on the walls, incomprehensible messages scrawled in spit and spraypaint, weird murals done in that Japanimation style. Too narrow to be a hallway; this was an access tunnel of some sort.

"Bitch, I said-"

"And then I told her not to worry, 'cuz I'd be home soon but now they got all the fucking doors closed-"

"ZzZZZZkk..lani? ...zzztell me what chkchkzzZZZZssSS-" My cell phone was still spitting static, even though I'd cut the call.

Other people in the tunnel- black girl standing at the end, by a door. Waiting for the bathroom, talking on her phone. Two men on the stairs, wearing ski caps at funny angles. Me, suit, briefcase, phone. Laptop in the bag, but I wasn't going to get a signal down here.

Wherever "here" was. Goddamn, but I hate the bus.

Voices everywhere. Static.

Started walking- found a ladder, climbed up. Banged on the grate, told the assholes on top of it to move the fuck away, let me through. Need to get home- Mellani's a bitch, and a useless bitch at that, but she worries.

New tunnel, same light, same girl standing at the end of the hall, waiting for the bathroom. The lights flickered.
b

"Bad King, you seen it? Bad King, you wan' get some for me?"

"Come on, come on, I said just a little longer baby, you just gotta wait-"

"And I'm like, no she did not and she's all fuck whatever bitch so I slapped her- yeah, I fucking did, she deserved it-"

"zzzZZZchris?"

Weird mural staring at me with giant eyes. Some sort of music group out of Asia, under the Bad King label.

The lights flickered again.

My laptop crashed to the floor, falling out of my bag- something was stuck in my throat. I coughed. Again. Then again- it was still there, stuck, squirming. Stuck two fingers down my throat, got a grip on it, pulled-

Wires, tangled up and fine as vermicelli. Sparks crawled over them- reminded me of seaweed, and sealice.

Coughed again, choked again. Kept pulling. Could feel them sliding up my throat, gag reflex kicking in, dry heaves- wet, tangled mess of wires.

"Yo, man, you okay?"

"Fuck, that's disgusting- call the cops or something-"

"Can't get a fucking signal down here, Christ-"

"Who you been talking to, then?"

"ZZZZZZZsssssssss... ... ..."

"Shit, that's nasty- man, you okay?"

One last choking cough, and that was the worst of them out- tangled, stringy mass of wires, the length of my arm, spattered across the grimy concrete floor. All that remained were the last stringy wires hanging out of my mouth, the long singular strands that I pulled out one at a time. One was long enough to make me start retching again, but it passed quickly.

Stared at the mess. My laptop had landed and opened- the screen was fuzzy with static.

"You can maybe get a signal with that thing, right? We gotta call someone-"

"No fucking signal." My voice sounded like rust. "No fucking signal, the whole system just got hacked."

Static everywhere, cutting up the voices.

"ZZZzzzzSSSSking hacked..."

They were staring at my laptop. Panic. The lights flickered.

"Whatchu mean- hacked, like, hacked?" She had implants for eyes, and they were showing nothing but snow.

"Technotist." One of the guys shook his head. "No way. Not a fucking Technotist."

Nobody said anything. Even the static on my phone was quiet, listening. Nobody wanted to say it. But it was true- the rain, the tunnel, the static.

Lights went out. No light but the glow of the girl's implants, and the static on my laptop screen.

Could feel the rain again, torrential downpour on my face. Something stuck in my throat.

"Shit."

Technotist. We were fucked.

"ZzzzzsssBadKingkkkgkkkch ssssssssss... ... ..."

"..."