And we’re doing it. We’d be heroes.
With a few sharp clicks of the keyboard, the screen flickered, then displayed three ominous green words: Initiate Project Shutdown? Jude pressed the arrow button, moving the green cursor over the affirmative option. We stole one last look at each other and clicked the Enter key. With a few violent blinks, like a dying lightbulb, the screen cut to a chaotic field of static.
“You did it, Jude!”
A voice sounded from the computer. “Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?”
My heart dropped. I knew that voice. Was it the creator of the Dogs?
“Ah! It works!” The static cleared to reveal a man in a white lab coat, his magnified eyes peering out from behind enormous, round glasses. “You’ve opted to shut down ProjectG-298-001-559, also known as the Dogs. The United States government regulates this advanced monitoring technology; therefore, there is not just one key to disable Project G.” A Dog came into the camera frame and nuzzled the man’s arm. “Doing so will kill an entire species, my life’s work. I can assure you, they do much more good than harm.”
I was shaking; my brain wouldn’t allow me to believe what I was seeing and hearing. More than one key? Where could it be?
“There are two labs that use robotics and programmed intelligence to repair injured Dogs. If you have the authority to do so and enter the correct alphanumeric code on the next screen, the Dogs that report to this lab will be disabled. If both laboratories are disabled, the Dogs will shut down permanently until my partner or I can repair the code.”
Great, so we still have to worry about Dogsandfind the second location in a month before we’re free from these beasts?
“The Dogs were built to protect all Americans, so disabling them will leave our country vulnerable. Keep this in mind before making your decision. God bless the United States of America.” The man gave a crisp salute before the screen faded to black, leaving only a pulsing green box.
“Hurry, put in the code you used to open the door.” My heart was in my throat, so the words came out as a croak.
Jude unfolded the piece of paper once again and clicked the keyboard, one at a time. The box around the numbers turned red, and two words I didn’t want to see appeared below: Passcode Failed. “What could it be?”
A piece of paper whose font looked like it was constructed on a typewriter caught my eye. The paper’s corners were curled from age, and its face was faded and brittle, looking like a generous amount of coffee had disfigured the text. I picked it up and held it toward the light, attempting to piece together the words.
“What’s it say?” Jude asked, squinting. “Code…computer…pictures, what could all that mean? Is this some sort of puzzle?”
I looked at the photos taped to the edge of the computer screen. The four scientists in lab coats and the family swinging now looked as if secrets were hiding behind each of their eyes. “Jude… I think I know the code.”
“What? How?” His eyebrows furrowed, his brain trying to piece together information.
A low growl rumbled from the doorway, making our heads snap around so fast I’m surprised we didn’t get whiplash. The fully repaired Dog stood in the doorway, its glowing red eyes piercing the dim light.
My eyes darted toward the looming threat in the doorway. “Just hold the Dog off while I give it a try.”
With a sharp nod, he reached for his gun and lifted it from the desk. The Dog scanned the weapon in his hands, and a growl escaped from its lips once again. It began rearing its back legs, ready to unleash a powerful jump.
My fingers, trembling with fear, fumbled on the keyboard, hitting wrong numbers. With bated breath, I silently prayed this code was correct; otherwise, Jude and I would be Dog food. I pressed the Enter key, and my stomach dropped. A red error notification popped up on the screen: INVALID PASSWORD.
Click click
My head shot up, my heart leaping into my throat before plummeting to my stomach. I knew that sound. His gun was out of bullets. My jaw hit the floor as Jude’s head whipped around, his eyes wide with a terror that mirrored my own. Frantically, I scanned the desk, trying to find something that would help him while my trembling fingers clicked the last key before submitting the code once again.
INVALID PASSWORD.
The Dog barked and sprang at Jude, his voice echoing through my ears. “Vin, hurry!”
The Dog’s disruption threw me off, and I realized I may have entered incorrect numbers due to my lack of focus. My eyes locked onto the heavy, brass desk lamp, its metal body heavier than it looked, hoping it would buy me time to recall the code. I had one more try; time was running out. “Use this!” I hurled the desk lamp toward Jude, and it landed with a loud thud next to him, skidding across the concrete floor.
The bulb’s glass shattered, leaving a trail of shards leading to Jude. With fear etched on every crease of his pale face, he twisted and grabbed the desk lamp, positioning it horizontally into the Dog’s mouth. Although its strength was mighty, he did a great job at pushing back.
Taking a deep breath, I centered myself, and my fingers flew across the keyboard, each keystroke a familiar dance. The final number appeared on the screen, and with a swift click of the Enter key, the action was complete. I glanced at Jude, who was inches from the dog’s gaping maw, its teeth like daggers, poised to strike. I knew once it reached Jude, he’d be a goner.
The Dog, its body taut and quivering, stood over Jude, its red eyes blazing with a predatory hunger. The computer screen blazed a harsh, electric green, and the dog’s body tensed violently before collapsing. Its glowing red eyes flickered and died, its jaw hanging slack to reveal rows of wickedly pointed teeth. With a heavy clang, the metal body plummeted from the air, crashing to the ground with a resounding collapse.
“You-you did it! Vinny, you fucking did it!” Disbelief choked Jude’s words, his breath short and ragged. “But how did you know the code?”
I pursed my lips, a knot of confusion tightening in my stomach as I realized the volume of information I still needed to process. There had to be a reasonable explanation, right?“The passcode was the birthdays of the two people in this photograph.” I gulped. “The little boy in the picture is me. The woman is my mother.” Tears pushed themselves behind my eyes, and air caught in my throat. “That’s why the Dogs never attacked me. One of their creators is my father.”
