The Shipwreck: An Official Minecraft Novel Read online

  Minecraft: The Shipwreck is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Stay safe online. Any websites listed in this book are correct at the time of going to print. However, Del Rey is not responsible for content hosted by third parties. Please be aware that online content can be subject to change and websites can contain content that is unsuitable for children. We advise that all children are supervised when using the Internet. This publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  ONLINE SAFETY FOR YOUNGER FANS

  Spending time online is great fun! Here are a few simple rules to help younger fans stay safe and keep the Internet a great place to spend time:

  Never give out your real name—don’t use it as your username.

  Never give out any of your personal details.

  Never tell anybody which school you go to or how old you are.

  Never tell anyone your password except a parent or a guardian.

  Be aware that you must be thirteen or older to create an account on many sites. Always check the site policy and ask a parent or guardian for permission before registering.

  Always tell a parent or guardian if something is worrying you.

  Copyright © 2020 by Mojang AB and Mojang Synergies AB. All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  DEL REY is a registered trademark and the CIRCLE colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  MINECRAFT is a trademark or registered trademark of Mojang Synergies AB.

  Published simultaneously in the United Kingdom by Century, an imprint of Penguin Random House UK, London.

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Names: Lee, C. B., author.

  Title: Minecraft: the shipwreck / C. B. Lee.

  Description: New York: Del Rey, 2020. | Series: Minecraft | An official Minecraft novel.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2020030937 (print) | LCCN 2020030938 (ebook) | ISBN 9780399180781 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780399180798 (ebook) | ISBN 9780593159651 (international edition)

  Classification: LCC PZ7.1.L39487 Mi 2020 (print) | LCC PZ7.1.L39487 (ebook) | DDC [Fic]—dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/​2020030937

  LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/​2020030938

  Ebook ISBN 9780399180798

  randomhousebooks.com

  Book design by Elizabeth A. D. Eno, adapted for ebook

  Cover art and design: M. S. Corley

  ep_prh_5.6.0_c0_r0

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One: Jake

  Chapter Two: Tank

  Chapter Three: Jake

  Chapter Four: Emily

  Chapter Five: Jake

  Chapter Six: Tank

  Chapter Seven: Emily

  Chapter Eight: Jake

  Chapter Nine: Emily

  Chapter Ten: Tank

  Chapter Eleven: Jake

  Chapter Twelve: Tank

  Chapter Thirteen: Emily

  Chapter Fourteen: Tank

  Chapter Fifteen: Jake

  Chapter Sixteen: Emily

  Chapter Seventeen: Tank

  Chapter Eighteen: Jake

  Chapter Nineteen: Tank

  Chapter Twenty: Emily

  Chapter Twenty-one: Tank

  Chapter Twenty-two: Jake

  Chapter Twenty-three: Emily

  Chapter Twenty-four: Jake

  Chapter Twenty-five: Tank

  Chapter Twenty-six: Emily

  Chapter Twenty-seven: Jake

  Chapter Twenty-eight: Tank

  Chapter Twenty-nine: Emily

  Chapter Thirty: Tank

  Chapter Thirty-one: Jake

  Chapter Thirty-two: Emily

  Chapter Thirty-three: Tank

  Chapter Thirty-four: Jake

  Chapter Thirty-five: Emily

  Chapter Thirty-six: Jake

  Chapter Thirty-seven: Tank

  Chapter Thirty-eight: Jake

  Chapter Thirty-nine: Emily

  Chapter Forty: Tank

  Chapter Forty-one: Emily

  Chapter Forty-two: Jake

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  By C. B. Lee

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  JAKE

  “Here we are, home sweet home!”

  Jake steps out of the truck and shuts the door. The tar on the street almost seems to sink under his feet as he stands. It’s fresh, still soft from the hot sun, marked with crisp, clean, recently painted lines of white.

  Dad whistles, the sun hitting the top of his balding head just right. He puts his hands on his hips, nodding to himself.

  Jake follows Dad’s proud gaze and looks across the street at the gray building situated on the corner of a tree-lined street. A wide swath of grass separates it from the sidewalk. The apartment complex seems just as drab and dull as the rest of the buildings on this street. It’s a far cry from the beachside paradise Dad had been gloating about on their three-state road trip. The neighborhood has seen better days: rows and rows of mismatched apartment buildings and peeling paint, yellowing lawns and trash-lined streets. Jake sighs and shakes his head as Dad turns back to flash him a grin.

  “This is the place you’re tearing down?” Jake eyes the ancient apartment complex.

  “Yup. Already did one of the buildings in this complex, the one we’re moving into. Oh, you’re gonna love it. Everything is brand new and perfect, eh?”

  Three towers of apartments are clustered behind the first building. One is clearly new; gleaming white, shining glass windows reflecting the pale blue sky, almost as if the tower is trying to be a part of the sky itself. The other two are built from the same dull gray concrete as the first, occasionally spotted with bricks flecked with color for a bit of artistic flair. Jake can’t help but smile, thinking about lines of ore in Minecraft. He imagines destroying the entire complex, one row of blocks at a time, gathering the jewels, coal, and different types of rock from the building’s sides. He sees two, maybe three different building materials. They look a lot more sturdy than whatever the new building is made out of, although the glass is pretty neat. It’d be interesting, mining a tower like this, but simple enough, just craft a few ladders and get to the top and make your way down—

  Jake’s in the middle of his daydream when he realizes Dad’s still waxing poetic about the project.

  “It’s going to be a long haul—my company is doing this complex and two more down the street for a fancy new design firm. There’s a lot of work in Los Angeles. Aren’t you excited? All this great California sunshine, and we can go to the beach whenever we want!”

  “Sure, Dad.” The sun feels like any other sun Jake’s ever felt; then again, it is the same sun. He would hope so.

  D
ad gives him a small smile full of promise, one that Jake wants to believe means they’ll actually go to the beach together. Every new state, every new city in the past three years has been full of the same promises: We’ll go to the country fair. I’ll take you to a ball game. We’re going to go camping. But Dad said it was because he was still building up his company’s reputation, and now everything is going to change, apparently.

  Jake will believe it when he sees it. Chicago, San Antonio, Seattle—each of these places Dad said would be home, and each of them just turned out to be a stopping point.

  “Isn’t it beautiful? I tell you, the architect who dreamed up the renovation, she’s a genius.” Dad grabs a box from the back of the truck and sighs happily, still admiring the view.

  Jake makes a noncommittal grunt in reply. It’s just another picture-perfect condo, filled with the same uncomfortable furniture and nondescript landscape paintings. There’s a moving van parked outside that isn’t theirs, and for a moment Jake wonders what it’s like to actually have comfortable furniture that you’d haul across the country, knickknacks and little odds and ends that make a home.

  They don’t actually own furniture anymore. They haven’t really, not since they packed up their old house in Maryland and everything went into storage. Jake tries not to think about the boxes of photo albums, the yellowing Perfect Attendance certificates Mom kept from first through third grade, the perfect ratty couch he loved. All of it is slowly gathering dust on the other side of the country.

  Now every place they move into comes with furniture, usually leftovers from model homes or staging, weird pieces thrown together that never really feel intentional, much less like a home. He goes to the back of the truck and grabs his backpack and a box of his stuff and follows Dad across the street, up to their new place.

  “The stuff I ordered got here yesterday, so we should be all set! Are you ready?”

  Jake shrugs.

  They pass by a young couple laughing as they heave a squashy couch up the steps. It looks worn in and perfect and Jake glances away, almost colliding with a small boy who completely doesn’t notice as he scoots a toy truck across the sidewalk.

  “See, people are moving in already. What did I tell you? These new condos are spectacular, if I do say so myself, and we really got here at the perfect time. This neighborhood is going to skyrocket in price.” Dad proudly tugs his own box closer to himself as he hums the first chords of a cheerful tune.

  Jake hasn’t been too impressed since arriving in California. He was asleep for most of the drive, and since waking up he hasn’t seen a single palm tree or celebrity or even a pool. So far this neighborhood on the outskirts of Los Angeles looks like every other town, with its strip malls and stoplights and sidewalks, and this street looks like any other street in any other city. Jake’s seen so many of them now that it doesn’t mean anything anymore.

  Dad’s struck up a conversation with the couple as he helps them through the main glass double doors of the first building. Up close, the place looks even more unappealing: a dusty lobby with another set of glass doors on the other side, open to a courtyard of some sort. The new building stands out even more now, a polished monstrosity of off-white slabs and gleaming glass. It looks jarringly strange next to its neighboring towers.

  Jake closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He opens them again, imagining the street transformed, brick by brick. The building is just another set of resources, ready for him to reconstruct and rebuild in his own design, and—

  “Come on, buddy, let’s go check it out!” Dad’s voice jolts him back to reality and all its disheartening glory.

  Jake follows him up the steps to where Dad has the heavy-looking door propped open with his foot.

  “Look, I know you’re upset, but this time I promise it’s gonna be the last move. We’re gonna stick around Los Angeles. This is a really lengthy renovation project and I’ve got more coming soon.”

  “Did you design this one?”

  Dad looks down at his feet quickly and then back up at Jake. “Just project managing. But we have three more buildings to renovate, and it’s a project that’s going to take years, maybe.” He gives Jake a small smile. “You’re starting high school. I figured it was time to stop moving around.”

  Jake nods but doesn’t reply. He’s used to the moves by now, always being the new kid. It’s tough, trying to make new friends, especially when he doesn’t know how long he’s going to stay.

  The lobby is empty and dark, the only light emanating from the two sets of double doors that flank each side of the wide room. It’s weirdly big for an apartment building, and as Jake walks through he can see why. The lobby opens up into a huge room with dingy and dust-covered furniture, and doors that look like they haven’t been opened in a decade.

  PACIFIC CREST COMMUNITY CENTER AND APARTMENTS

  The words are mounted on a faded sign above a huge painted mural. The sign is cracked and falling apart, but the wall itself is still bright and cheerful. The buildings are painted a deep aquamarine here, and different scenes show laughing people walking through a park, swimming in pools, working in a computer lab. In the center of the mural, a cartoon sun wearing sunglasses grins down at the building, and an ocean sparkles behind it, a wave cresting in a swooping painted arc. The rest of that wall is covered in blue waves, a colorful contrast to the rest of the room: gray bricks stacked tediously on top of one another, and fake ficus trees, the kind you see in office buildings attempting to feel more homey. The trees have a thick layer of dust on them, and the open space is filled with empty tables, empty chairs, and a broken pool table in the corner. There’s a mostly bare bulletin board with a single sheet of paper that reads ACTIVITY SIGN-UP. It’s blank.

  “Yeah, cheesy, I know. Don’t worry, all of this is gonna be completely rehauled. I mean, a ‘technology room’?” Dad shakes his head. “Talk about outdated, even for my time. No one’s even stepped foot in this activity center for ages. I don’t blame them; there’s nothing here.”

  A laminated poster is propped on an easel with a mock-up of the completed complex: all shining glass and slabular architecture. In the graphic, the three buildings dwarf a manicured park with strange steel-and-glass sculptures. The community center facing the sidewalk is replaced with a sleek set of coffee shops and fancy-looking boutiques. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about! Isn’t it beautiful?” Dad says, nodding at the poster.

  “Sure, Dad,” Jake says, clutching his backpack strap tighter.

  Through the lobby of the abandoned community center and the next set of glass doors, they’re met with an overgrown mess of shrubberies and trees and wilting flowers. The complex on the inside is just as unimaginative and dull as the outside, not at all like the lush park Dad was talking about where he could play sports and make friends. Jake rolls his eyes as he takes it all in. He turns around and considers walking back out, but there’s nowhere to go. He sighs, looking at a dingy plate that reads MANAGER on the door of a single apartment attached to the first building.

  Must suck to live there, so close to the street and the doors where everyone goes in and out, Jake thinks. At least we don’t have that unit.

  “Let’s go!” Dad says, leading the way to the brand-new tower.

  They walk past a sign that reads POOL, even though Jake can’t see anything except an overgrown fence and in the distance, some sort of playground structure amid the scraggly trees and weeds.

  “This timing is great. You’ll get a head start on making new friends before school, huh?” Dad says cheerfully.

  Jake looks around the empty courtyard and sighs. Yup. The perfect place to make new friends.

  At least they’ll have Wi-Fi.

  The new building still smells like fresh paint and something sharp, like the metal of the bare support columns inside. After fumbling for the elevator, they arrive on the second floor with their boxe
s. Jake eyes the courtyard from the outdoor corridor that links the doors of all the apartments, wondering if it’s going to be noisy.

  “Here we go!” Dad wobbles and nearly drops the box labeled KITCHEN trying to get the keys out of his pocket. He balances the box on his hip and unlocks the door.

  “Our new place! Executed perfectly by my team,” Dad says. “I’ll get the rest of the stuff from the truck. You need anything?”

  “Nah,” Jake says, setting his box down. “Internet?”

  “Looks like someone will be coming in tomorrow,” Dad says.

  Great.

  Jake’s room is a blank square, like so many blank squares before. It’s already got a brand-new mattress in it, still wrapped in plastic. Jake sets his box and backpack down and walks over to the thing, giving it a shove. It flops over, revealing an unassembled bed frame behind it. Jake sighs and yanks a sheet out of his box. It’s not the right one, but he doesn’t care right now. He drags it over the mattress and flops on top with his laptop; the plastic crinkles underneath him. He can make the bed later for real once it’s sunk in that he’s somehow both in Los Angeles and not anywhere near the ocean or Disneyland or anything cool at all, really.

  There’s also no Internet.

  Jake sighs and checks the time. It’s probably dinnertime over in Maryland, not that Danny has been logging in to the Minecraft server they share recently anyway. They used to be best friends back when they lived in the same neighborhood, and stayed in touch when Jake moved to Chicago. But that was three moves ago and now they barely see each other, even in Minecraft. Usually Jake will build something funny for him to find or vice versa, but it’s a far cry from the days when they used to plan epic missions to look for strongholds together.