Tin Toy by Ava Cuvay

Author:Ava Cuvay [Cuvay, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Drinking the Stars Press, LLC

Chapter Twelve

Everett’s heart rested firmly in his throat, beating at the pace of a stampede, as his fingers flew across the keyboard. He’d marched to the front of the library when he’d heard Betty raise her voice, prepared for round two with the three guys and pissed they’d had the audacity to return at all, much less so soon. But all fight had whooshed from his bones the moment Betty had said that name.

Eve Myer.

Then, she’d said that other name. Everett Dean.

Betty knew who he was. Had figured it out, because she was smart like that, and he’d been an idiot for thinking he could waltz around without being recognized. The real question was how did a librarian in an Indiana suburb three hours from Chicago by way of the HyperBus know his former exec? And why were Betty and a homeless man talking about meeting Eve? Meet with Eve, who was supposed to be dead, burned to unrecognizable ashes in an apartment fire a week ago. A day after downloading the mysterious virus from his private company network.

Not unlike his own story: supposedly dead, burned to unrecognizable ashes in a plane crash a few days ago. After discovering someone had planted a mysterious virus onto his private company network. This strange coincidence had all the markings of more wacky shit to fuel his recently acquired paranoia.

Had Eve planted the virus? Planned the apartment fire? Hacked his pilot? Granted, she’d only been with Preditech for about a year, but he’d never once thought the soft-spoke, bean-counting divorcee was capable of such espionage. However, recent events had him questioning many previous assumptions. Everett had walked halfway across Indiana to get to this library because it was the source of the mysterious IP address that had pinged Preditech’s network security. Had he walked into a haven or a trap? The questions further fueled his flight instinct, the impulse to run knocking at his nerve endings. His sense of urgency laser-pointed, lending speed and focus to his efforts as he dove deeper into the corners of the internet. Battered by questions. Searching for answers. Infiltrating.

But he could only do so much from this antique computer, and the forced limit scraped against him like sandpaper. Everett clenched his fists against his thighs, frustration grappling with helplessness. Hiding in a library, waiting for the world to be set to rights so he could return home—as if that was even a possibility anymore—clawed against his need for action. For solutions. But what could he do? He was one man with no resources. Brazen attitude alone wouldn’t fix anything or secure his safety. And honestly, he didn’t have much brazen attitude at his disposal at the moment. A near-death experience and being homeless knocked that out of a man. What he did have in spades was petty retribution, which offered an outlet for his need to do something, even if that something solved nothing.

If he couldn’t fight his enemy face-to-face, he could at least pester the hell out of him.

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