Carousel Kids

By Mark Kossack

 

Thirteen year-old Walter and his friend Chris are computer geniuses. Walter's younger brother, Tommy, is not; he prefers pizza and Super Mario to hard drives and gigabytes. That has never stopped the three from being close, until recently. Since the start of the school year Walter has been distant, locked in his room working on some top secret project with Chris.

One Friday night, the week before Halloween, a loud crash in the middle of the night draws Tommy to Walter's room where he discovers his brother missing, the room trashed and Walter's prized computer smashed.

Now it's up to Tommy to find his brother and delve into a world of technology, coding, and computers which he tried to avoid his whole life. With the help of Chris and Walter's mysterious online acquaintance NightHawk99, Tommy sets out on an adventure to find his brother. The journey to rescue Walter quickly escalates into a race to save humanity from a technological force dead set on world domination. Carousel Kids is a 78,000 word science-fiction adventure story with enough heart and excitement for middle-graders, all the way up to the adults who never grew up.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Otto press
• Release date: Jul 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223864868

Mark Kossack

Mark Kossack lives in Massapequa Long Island, with his wife and three children. He began writing in 2012. His work centers on science fiction, horror and adventure. Carousel Kids is his debut novel.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

They were going to a bed and breakfast, which boggled Tommy. Why would anyone, EVER, want to drive all the way to Connecticut, just to look at colorful leaves and eat breakfast? Tommy tried not to think too hard on it because like most things with parents, it didn’t make much sense.

He carried the pizza box to the kitchen, past the Ghosts, Zombies and his mom’s newest addition, a weak bat that flapped its wings anytime you passed underneath it. Even at 12-years old he loved Halloween and could hardly wait another week.

He tapped the bat, setting off its spastic flapping routine. Sometimes he’d try to walk slow enough to elude the bat’s sensor, but now he was hungry. 

The moment Tommy put the pizza, garlic knots and soda on the kitchen table, he heard the door to his brother’s room yawn open.

He shook his head.

Of course the doorbell rings eight times and no one hears it, but the second the food is in the kitchen, everyone comes running. Tommy filled his plate with a slice and some knots. He poured the soda too fast and rushed to sip the fizz before it spilled all over the counter.

Feet pounded down the staircase, echoing throughout the house. A moment later Chris turned a corner into the kitchen. Chris was Walter’s best friend. And Walter was Tommy’s one-year older, infinitely smarter brother.

Chris froze upon spotting Tommy and beamed his wide bright smile. Behind chunky glasses, Chris’s eyes looked tiny when he grinned. It reminded Tommy of a small rodent called a mole that he’d seen on Animal Planet.

T-bone, what’s up, buddy? Chris pushed up the sleeves on his oversized sweatshirt before he loaded his plate. The sweatshirt, like most of Chris’s clothes, was too big for him. He was a year older than Tommy, but looked like a ten-year old.

Is Walter coming down? Tommy asked.

I think he’s just finishing something up. Chris talked through mouthfuls of pizza. Tommy knew he needed to act quickly. 

What are you guys working on?

Chris stopped chewing and looked up. He stared at Tommy with his mouth hung open. Tommy could see the half-eaten pizza in a mash of red sauce and white cheese.

Come on, I know it’s top secret, but give me a break, Tommy said, knowing that he had a better chance getting information from Chris than his brother.

I don’t think I can tell you, T. It’s kind of technical anyway. Chris smiled and went back to eating. No matter how cool Chris treated Tommy, Chris was still Walter’s friend first and would need some coaxing.

I don’t need the details, just something.

He tried not to sound desperate, but couldn’t help it. His brother had all but written him off right around the time they started school. Walter stayed locked in his room like some sort of ghost haunting their house. It was like the summer ended and Walter made the decision to ignore Tommy. Sometimes Tommy tried to eavesdrop real close to Walter’s bedroom door. It was hard to hear and most of the time he only heard Chris and Walter talking about computer coding.

A few times though, he heard his brother talking like he was reading off some script of pointless statements. Stuff like, I smile at the happy hippo at the beach or Mean people make the scared kitten cry. All the secrecy and strangeness only made Tommy more eager to find out what was going on.

Walter and Chris were in eighth grade, only a grade above Tommy. He wasn’t sure if his brother was having issues at school or just becoming a man, which his dad attributed to Walter’s sudden secrecy. Anytime he asked Walter or Chris he got the same answer; they were working on some programming project. Whatever it was, Tommy missed him.

Chris swiped a strand of long black hair away from the front of his glasses and took a gulp of Coke.

Look, you know I would tell you. It’s just that Walter and I are working on something pretty insane and well, he doesn’t want you in on it because it could turn out to be real dange...

Walter’s bedroom door creaked open and slammed shut.

A moment later Walter entered the kitchen and went straight to the pizza. He grabbed his dinner and sat across from Tommy. Hey, T.

Hey, Tommy said and snuck glances at his brother. Walter looked like a skeleton, with the cheekbones on his face more pronounced than usual. His hole-ridden, gray computer camp t-shirt and crinkled pants hung on his frame like clothes on a hanger. A dark red string bracelet dangled on Walter’s left wrist. It was the most recent contribution to his terrible sense of style which he made this past summer.

Dark circles ringed his eyes like a racoon. His black hair was never very neat, but currently it was parted just off center with half standing up in a frizzy disaster and the other half matted down like he’d fallen asleep on it. He looked like a cartoon character after an explosion. All Walter needed was some black soot on his face and his teeth to drop out like piano keys.

Chris’s eyes scanned back and forth between them.

Silence stretched on for a few minutes as the boys quietly munched on pizza.

So, Walt, I was thinking since your parents are away, maybe we could play some video games after with Tommy.

Yeah, Tommy said, feeling a bit of optimism. I thought about having a Mario fest and beating every game from NES through the Switch. You guys want to play?

Walter stared out of the window above the sink as he chewed on his pizza.

We don’t have time tonight, Tommy, sorry, his brother told him.

He continued staring off deep in thought.

Why not? Tommy replied, the bitterness in his voice surprising himself.

Walter faced Tommy, his brow scrunched. None of your business why not.

You hang out in your room like some kind of vampire and never leave. Everything is this big important secret. Why can’t you just play some video games for a little bit like a normal kid. Even nerds play video games, Walter, Tommy shot back.

Chris tucked his head between his shoulders. Tommy felt he’d crossed the line, but it was almost Halloween. He couldn’t allow his brother to continue like this until Christmas. He’d tried the nice approach, the pest approach, every which way, now it was time to address it.

Ha. You’re gonna explain to me what it’s like to be a normal kid. Whoever said I wanted to be normal? And not all nerds play video games, Thomas.

Walter only called him by his official birth name when he was real angry with him. Walter proceeded to run his hands through his hair, pulling it straight up in an explosive motion. The matted down half sat right back down the moment it slipped through his fingers.

Tommy didn’t want the argument to spin out of control. He actually felt like this could be the breakthrough they needed to be friends again. Even arguing felt better than the silent void of the past two months.

We don’t have to play video games. Let me work on whatever it is you guys are doing. I’m not a genius like you two, but you guys know I’m smart.

Walter looked at Chris, then back at Tommy. Walter squinted in contemplation. Tommy remembered the last time he helped them with a computer project almost a year ago and cringed internally. He knew he shouldn’t bring it up, but the words rose like a backed up sewer, toxic and messy.

I won’t goof off like I did when you guys were writing that program last year.

The understanding in Walter’s face drained. Tommy meant to explain how he wasn’t like that anymore, how he was more mature.

Sorry, Thomas, we gotta get back to work. Walter turned to Chris and nodded.

Sorry, Chris said. He grabbed two more slices and refilled his drink before following Walter back upstairs. Tommy watched them walk away. Walter, a tall skeleton; his elbows and shoulders defining his shirt with hard edges. Chris, a short, frumpy, pile of laundry.

Tommy listened to the soft hum of the refrigerator and put his head in his hands.

He felt worse now than he had before dinner. At least then there’d been hope that, with his parents away for the weekend, he’d have a better chance to reconnect with his brother.

He turned his chair sideways, reclined back, put one foot up on a chair, and faced the window over the sink that Walter had looked out. Halloween decorations hung around the window; the brown and orange characters made of cloth and straw. A small skeleton sat hunched over on the window sill looking as depressed as Tommy felt.

Clouds scudded past an almost full moon like wisps of smoke. He took a bite of cold pizza, wishing his parents were home.

Tommy did his best to clean up the leftover food, jamming the pizza box into the fridge and sweeping the crumbs off the table into his hand before dumping them into the sink.

Chris ate like he dressed. Messy. It wasn’t fair that Tommy had to clean up, having already ordered the pizza and paying the delivery guy. He cleaned anyway, because he didn’t want to leave a mess for his grandmother. Walter could have helped, but what’s the use? He had some stupid top-secret, world saving project to work on.

He turned off the kitchen lights while carrying his glass of soda. He walked into the living room where Nanner was passed out on the chair snoring, her glasses cocked sideways. She wore the soft blue sweater he and Walter had given her last year for her birthday. Tommy removed her glasses and set them on the little table next to her. He covered her with a blanket, turned down the volume on the TV and went upstairs. He didn’t turn off the TV because, like him, Nanner slept better with the TV on.

At the top of the staircase, he looked down the hall past his own room towards his brother’s door at the end of the hallway. A black and white poster of a bulldog with a mini astronaut helmet covered the door. He remembered putting up the poster with Walter. They had spent a whole Saturday at the beach boogey boarding with Chris. When they arrived home, they were planning on playing some Nintendo and eventually watching reruns of Saved by the Bell or whatever sci-fi movie Chris was currently hyped up on. The poster had arrived while they were at the beach with their parents and greeted them on the front doorstep when they came home. Unrolling it upstairs, Tommy looked at it with some amusement. The bulldog looked goofy wearing the space helmet. The dog’s tongue lolled out to the side and a few bottom teeth protruded over its top lip. Walter laughed to himself as they put it up. Tommy remembered asking him, why would you put this baby poster on your door?

Walter calmly replied, That’s us, buddy. We only think we’re smarter.

That’s the way his brother thought of things. Even a simple poster of a little dog had some greater meaning that related to them. It was one of the last real fun days that Tommy remembered having with his brother before they went back to school, and everything changed.

CHAPTER 2

Tommy awoke to a crunching sound like plastic and glass breaking. He rubbed his eyes with his palms as the sound faded to silence. His mind slowly ramped up from a sleepy fog. He’d fallen asleep on the couch in the game room while playing Mario, but what was that sound?

The house was completely silent now. Mario ran across the two-dimensional landscape of Super Mario Three, while the game operated in demo mode. Light flashed across the walls of the game room wildly.

He willed himself up to a seated position and set the controller on the coffee table in front of him. His tongue felt dry and spicy like a dragon’s breath. In one gulp he drained his remaining half glass of warm, flat soda, extinguishing the flames.

The cable box said 12:48 a.m. That didn’t seem overly late for Walter to be up and working in his room, but the noise sounded like something breaking. Tommy cycled through all the possible breakable objects in his brother’s room. He’d heard it while waking and couldn’t be certain. Walter’s computer seemed the most logical to create the sound of plastic and glass crunching.

Tommy sat there, looking out of the game room door at the light shining around the border of the door to Walter’s room. The movie Poltergeist came to mind and he quickly thought of something else.

After a few minutes he could no longer contain his curiosity. He convinced himself that he had to at least check on Walter. He remembered his dad saying no sleepovers tonight, which meant Chris shouldn’t be here.

Tommy walked down the hall towards Walter’s room. Floorboards creaked with each step. He stood before the dark image of the astronaut dog.

He slowed his breathing to listen. Tommy hoped Walter didn’t break something important. That would make Walter angry.

He knocked on the door and waited. After a minute he knocked again.

No answer.

He tried the doorknob next. Tommy almost never entered Walter’s room without permission, even when they were on the best of terms. His hands were stiff like granite as he turned the knob and eased the door open.

Only the very edge of the white shuttered closet and some blue carpet were in view through the partially open door. He pushed his head through the opening. Cool air brushed his face. The little hairs on his neck stood up.

Walter’s bed was unmade as usual, but on top of the ruffled blue comforter, his dad’s black gym bag lay splayed open and overflowing with clothes. Tommy pushed the door open and stepped onto the blue carpet.

Walter, what is going....., Tommy started, but the room was empty.

The window next to Walter’s bed was wide open. Chilled October air lofted in. Tommy looked towards Walter’s computer desk adjacent to the window and gasped. The phones that were always on Walter’s desk were now hardly recognizable, crunched like cans and piled on the floor, along with Walter’s destroyed computer tower. Walter and Chris had created a lucrative business fixing their classmates’ phones and would never let them get damaged.

Tommy stepped in closer. The plastic and metal parts that littered the floor looked like they’d been run through a blender. Black, green, and silver electrical components were scattered about on the desk.

Something was seriously wrong.

His brother loved that computer and would never damage a classmate’s phone. Walter would yell at Tommy if he even picked one up off his desk.

Tommy tried to think what to do. Nanner was sweet, but would have no idea what to do. He wanted to call his parents, but walked over to the duffel bag instead. He chewed on his lower lip, while pulling jeans, a bundle of underwear, a sweatshirt, and a few bags of pretzels from the bag. Below the clothes he found Walter’s laptop.

Tommy’s stomach turned. Walter treated his laptop like most teenagers treated their phones. He took it everywhere with him; school, Chris’s, car rides, and even the bathroom. Walter had won that laptop last spring at a weekend programming workshop. The huge event had hundreds of contestants. Tommy could still picture Walter telling their family, over dinner, about how he bested some super programming genius to win it. No matter how strange it was to find Walter’s computer and phones smashed, seeing Walter’s laptop alone without Walter within a few feet was the worst.

Tommy backed away from the bed and looked around the small square room, hearing his own breath speed up. The curtains waved as a gust of wind blew in through the window. Instinctively, he moved over to shut it. Before closing it, he looked down from the second story. The light from the side of the house shined on the boxwood shrubs below. The bush was split down the middle. Branches bent and cracked outwards like someone had thrown a refrigerator from Walter’s window.

Had Walter fallen from the window? Had he jumped? His brother could hardly be confused with someone who’d make an impact like a fridge. Tommy figured Walter’s thin frame would barely shake a few leaves from the branches.

Tommy closed the window, even more confused. Dropping to his knees he sifted through the heap of trashed hardware taking care not to get cut by any of the sharp edges. Nothing was intact. He rested back on his butt, defeated, before noticing something. Marooned away from the pile, just under the desk, a red and black memory stick leaned against the desk’s base. It was undamaged with its cover on. Tommy half expected it to fall apart when he touched it, but picked it up unblemished.

He pulled the laptop out of the duffle bag and sat with it in his lap. It felt strange holding Walter’s laptop, but everything felt strange, alone in Walter’s room. He typed in Matr1xNEO1 and prayed Walter had not changed the password. Walter had based the code on his favorite movie, The Matrix. The computer unlocked. The background screen of light green numbers, ones and zeros representing computer code ran top to bottom in columns. Tommy sighed a breath of relief.

As he inserted the memory drive, Tommy looked around the room, searching for an answer. Programming charts and framed awards hung all around him. A smart, logical kid lived in this room, not someone who would destroy all his stuff and run away. Walter wouldn’t run away, would he?

The window for the memory drive opened. He clicked on the first folder labeled Cell_1. A password screen appeared again and unfortunately the old password failed this time. Scrolling down through the four folders he found one unlocked. He was surprised at the date and time of each file. They were all made in the last few hours. The highlighted folder labeled T-BONE, Tommy’s nickname, stood out in yellow among the others labeled Lighthouse, Cell_1, and Cell_2.

Tommy opened the folder and clicked on the lone video file within it. A video made from the laptop’s built in camera appeared, his brother’s face up close and poorly lit. Walter sat there smiling with the same computer camp shirt he wore at dinner. He looked strange, mostly because it had been so long since Tommy saw his brother smile. The video showed it was just over a minute long. Tommy hit play.

CHAPTER 3

Tommy pedaled his red and gold mountain bike as fast as he could down the dark street. Half barren tree branches swayed with each gust of wind, sending swarms of leaves blowing across Tommy’s path. He sped up and down alternating between the sidewalk and street gaining momentum like the tail end of a whip.

As he approached Chris’s small single story house, it stood out with its minimal Halloween decorations, or rather lone decoration; a limp inflatable ghost, six feet round. A collection of leaves covered the majority of the ghost and only a small part of it inflated at all. The leaves looked wet, like they had been laying there for over a week. Tommy had Walter’s packed bag slung over his shoulder and aimed his bike at the basement entrance on the far right side of the house.

A yellow light with black specks lining its bottom lit the steps down to the basement door. Chris slept in the basement so much it was almost like his own apartment. Every time Tommy tagged along with Walter to Chris’s, he’d see the pillows and comforter usually pushed over to the corner of the couch. 

Tommy descended the dank concrete steps towards the chipped white door. He knocked lightly.

Tommy kept up a steady drum of light knocks until he heard movement behind the door. Finally, Chris said in a startled voice, Who is it?

It’s Tommy, is Walter here?

Chris opened the door slowly, but Tommy busted in and almost knocked him over.

Tommy, what are you doing here? Chris blinked repeatedly as he rubbed his glasses on his shirt.

My brother’s gone and his computer and stuff is smashed. He left me this. Tommy held up the memory stick. Is he here? Tommy looked past Chris at the empty basement apartment, not seeing Walter anywhere.

I just saw him, like a few hours ago at your house, Chris replied. 

He’s gone, Chris, I think someone broke into his room.

A sudden flash of terror spread over Chris’s face. He grabbed the memory stick from Tommy’s hand and raced to his computer desk leaving Tommy to close the door behind him.

The basement was a brown and yellow time machine into the 70s. Wood paneling, old flower print sofas and a brown carpet created a dark cave-like feel. The typical mildew basement smell wafted in the air mixed with the pleasant aroma of Mrs. Hiroki’s choice of laundry detergent. The smell could best be described as a soggy flower.

Walter gave this to you?

No, I found it near the crumbled bits of computer and cell phones by his desk.

What? His computer’s broken? Chris asked while he sat at the desk waiting for the memory drive to load.

More like obliterated.

Chris double clicked the drive when it loaded and tried a number of passwords to open the locked folders. Each entry brought up a red warning saying incorrect password. Chris scrolled down to the last folder, which contained the video Walter had left Tommy.

That’s it, watch it. Tommy leaned over Chris’s shoulder pointing at the screen. Chris opened it and hit play.

The video showed Walter from the chest up, wearing the same hole-ridden, gray computer camp t-shirt Tommy saw him in earlier. His shoulders were rounded in as usual, making him look thin. He smiled at them. Hey, Tommy, if you’re watching this, then it might be too late for me. I know I’ve been a little distant these past two months. Walter looked down and continued. "I wanted to keep you out of it, but I guess that’ll be impossible now.

The thing is, me and Chris found something hidden in everyone’s cell phones. Someone or group is using people’s phone calls as a way to condition them. They’re using software that’s already embedded in pretty much everyone’s cell phone to add almost inaudible sounds to words. It’s like a subliminal message only it’s barely detectable, even if you scrutinized the hell out of it like we did. Walter pulled his hair straight up, straining the wiry strands through his thin fingers.

I screwed up tonight. I’ve been searching for who’s manipulating the software and where they’re from. I thought Russia or China, but.... Walter looked away from the