Read Better to Die a Hero for Free Online

view and Steve spotted the back end of Bryan’s character flying toward one of the exits. He executed a 180-degree turn and followed his friend's lead; out the chamber door, the two jetpack-clad characters flew. Through a network of complex corridors, up repair conduits and down elevator shafts the two of them guided their heroes at top speeds.
    “I can't believe this. I think we’re going to make it.” Steve jostled his low-end joystick to the left and to the right.
    The two would-be Buck Rogers blew a cargo hatch, the only barrier between them and success. Their forward momentum, aided by the escaping atmosphere, ejected them far into space and away from the doomed death ship. The heroes' own starship drifted close. They entered and instinctively hit “control S” bringing online the protective force field. The joysticks and keyboards stopped responding to their commands; the game switched to automatic. The 3-D graphics on both monitors now displayed identical viewpoints, the view screen from the bridge of the small ship. For nearly a minute, the death ship rocked as fiery discharges erupted from its enormous hull, top of the line sound effects skipped from one speaker to the next, and then the ship exploded sending debris in all directions. The image on the computer screen bounced to emulate fragments deflecting off the shielded spacecraft. Game over flashed repeatedly across the screen. Ignoring his usually disciplined computer habits, Steve reached out and turned his computer off, bypassing a graceful shut down.
    Bryan said, “They add the fire and sounds for dramatic effect, but in space there’s no atmosphere to carry sound waves.”
    Hands over face, peering through fingers, Steve turned to his friend. “Are you kidding me? I think we did some kind of speed tonight and you’re critiquing the game.”
    “What are you talking about? We're just good at what we do.” Bryan placed the joystick on the desk, leaned back in his chair, and interlocked his fingers behind his head.
    “Please, don't tell me you didn't feel that. I mean, I really felt enhanced.”
    “Don't get all melodramatic.” Bryan spun out of his chair. “I mean, we're almost out of high school and we've drank how many times?” Bryan didn’t wait for an answer. “Twice. Sometimes I think that is so pathetic.” He placed his face a few inches in front of the dresser mirror, pulled his bottom eyelid down, and examined his pupil. “It was an accident, so don't feel too guilty. If that stuff is speed at least now I know why people do it.”
    “You're right about that,” Steve said, “I've never been so alert in my life. My hand to eye coordination was phenomenal and so was yours.”
    Bryan replied in gaming lingo, “Thank you most lawful knight.”
    “You know,” Steve said, even as a contradictory yawn forced its way out, “from what I've heard about these types of drugs, we're never going to get to sleep tonight. I should flush that shit down the toilet.” He yawned a second time.
    “I don’t think so.” Bryan inched toward the bottle.
    Steve lunged over the bed and grabbed his friend’s arm before Bryan moved the bottle a foot.
    Their competitions had always been of the intellectual nature, this one was physical. Bryan strained his biceps in an effort to pull the bottle toward his chest. Steve pushed downward attempting to force the bottle back to the dresser. The two labored, motionless for several minutes.
    Bryan’s words hissed from clenched teeth. “You think you're tough, look at this.” He raised and lowered his eyebrows in an alternating fashion, creating a smooth wave that rolled across his forehead.
    “Not good enough.”
    “Then try the... evil bunny.” Bryan drew his brow to a scowl, a cascade of skin folds building on one another disappeared into his dark hairline. His front teeth thrust forward and the boy’s nose went slightly pug.
    How the hell does he do that? Steve thought.
    The strength his skinny friend