The Dream Heist: (The Dreamscape Series Book 1) by Christina Farley

Author:Christina Farley [Farley, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Everbound Press
Published: 2022-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-EIGHT

ROADBLOCKS

I peel the mask away from my face and toss off the headphones. I take in my surroundings and remember I’m in a hotel room. In Bangladesh. My stomach rolls. Ugh. I’m going to get sick. I haven’t thrown up after visiting the Dreamscape in a long time. I stumble into the bathroom and barely make it to the toilet before I throw up. My hands won’t stop shaking, even after I wash them and splash water over my face.

“Are you okay?” Sun races to my side. “Why did you fade? What happened?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just didn’t acclimate well.”

“Okay, you had me worried there.” She squeezes my arm. “Take your time and get some water. I’ve got to get back to monitoring the Dreamscape.”

Before I’ve taken two steps out of the bathroom, Jake is standing before me and wraps his arm around my waist to steady me.

“You okay?” he asks.

I look into his eyes to find real concern. Maybe it’s the whole queasiness of not being in my sleep pod or it’s having everything flying out of my control, but suddenly I want to leave the whole dream thing behind and just sink into his arms and pretend we’re back at his house prepping for another psychology presentation.

“I am now.” My voice is a whisper, meant only for him.

His eyes lower to focus on my lips. “You did the right thing. Getting out of there. But I’ve got to say the dream version of you was pretty kick-ass.”

I roll my eyes at that, and he helps me to the dresser where Sun has Dad’s laptop set up and the lone chair pulled to it. Behind us lies Mr. Bosu on the bed, still sleeping. Tony and Javier are also still sound asleep on the other floor mats. I dig my fingers into my jean’s pocket until I’m touching Dad’s watch. Somehow it makes everything better.

“Next time,” I say. “Let’s get the hotel suite.”

“Next time?” Jake grins as he hands me a water and a package of some type of cookies we bought at the hotel gift shop. “Are you like asking me out on an extended date?”

I hit him on the arm, but Sun shushes us, glancing furtively at the sleeping figures.

“They’re at some type of resort at the beach,” she explains. “I just can’t pinpoint where it is at.”

I squint at the screen as I take a sip of water. The top window has three streaming codes running across it, one from each dreamer. Then below that is the dream sequence music that Sun is inputting into the dreamer’s ears. Finally, in another box is the visual display. There’s a slight delay as the computer tries to transfer the three dreamer’s visuals into one, but it gives a fairly good representation.

Thatched-roofed cabanas overlook an ocean with crystal blue water. Palms wave across a purple sunset. The place is like paradise. But instead of relaxing by the beach, Mr. Bosu, still wearing his suit, is running along the shore, panting heavily.

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