Dystopia

by Janet McNulty

Once again, Dana found herself working in the incinerator. She wiped her forehead with the back of her glove, the rough fibers scratching her skin. She leaned on her rake a bit, resting from the work, her tired muscles desperate for relief.

  “Get back to work!”

  An officer waved his baton at her. Immediately, Dana lifted her rake and pushed more junk into the flames. Bastard. She would have loved to see one of them working for a change.

  George came up beside her. “Keep working,” he said. “Tonight.”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s tonight,” repeated George. “Simon says that tonight is the night. Be at the media center by nine. Bring the uniforms. And take the bus.”

  “Will you be there?”

  “Yeah, but I’m arriving another way.”

  A bad feeling wafted over her. “George,” said Dana, covering the camera. She no longer cared if anyone watched. “I don’t think you should go.”

  “Why not?”

  “Please. I have a bad feeling.”

  “Now don’t you worry,” said George. “We’ve been through this. Nothing is going to happen.”

  “George, please”

  “I suggest you worry about yourself.” George tapped her chin affectionately before going back to his work.

  Despair filled Dana. She wished she could tell him. Resigned that she was about to commit the most heinous of sins, Dana continued her tasks, counting the hours until 9 p.m.

  When the buzzer rang, she put her rake and gloves away, filing into the eating hall with everyone else. Dana shuffled along. She picked up a tray and allowed the server to plop a bowl of orange goo on it. She sometimes wondered if they purposefully changed the color of the food just to make things more interesting.

  “Orange today,” said Elsie as she sat beside Dana. “At least it doesn’t look like vomit. Well, not too much anyway.”

  Dana picked at her food. She placed spoonfuls in her mouth, not even tasting it.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” said Dana. “Just tired.”

  “I did it!” said Sanders, a bit too loud for Dana’s taste.

  “Did what?” asked Elsie.

  “My best work ever,” said Sanders, pulling out a disk the size of his thumb.

  Dana covered the camera again. She may not be able to save George, but she could try to keep Sanders and Elsie out of it.

  “Here,” Sanders handed Dana the disk. It was attached to a chain so she could wear it around her neck. “I have successfully created the only series of logarithms and viruses that can break any decryption code and firewall. You plug that into any government computer, and in about 30 seconds, you will be in its mainframe. Booyah!”

  “Keep it down,” said Elsie, pulling Sanders back into his chair. “And why are you trying to break into government computers?”

  “I asked him to,” said Dana.

  “What?”

  “Please, just trust me on this.” Once again, tears welled in her eyes as she thought about her parents. “I have to do something tonight. Something big. And I need you two to not ask questions, because if things go wrong—please, my parents’ lives depend on this.”

  “Fine,” said Elsie.

  “Oh,” said Sanders, “Mad Dog wanted me to tell you that the stuff is under your bunk. Do you know what that is about?”

  Dana noticed Officer Burroughs heading straight for her. Fearful that he suspected she told them everything, she jumped from her seat and ran off.

  Elsie watched, putting together what frightened Dana. As Officer Burroughs walked by, she pushed her tray off the table and towards him. A loud crash garnered everyone’s attention. Orange goo covered Officer Burroughs’ pants. He glared at her.

  Slap!

  Elsie clutched the side of her face that stung and bore a red mark from where she had been struck.

  “Stupid girl,” grumbled Officer Burroughs. He stalked off.

  Elsie looked in the direction Dana had run, pleased that her friend had managed to get away for the moment.

  Dana burst into the barracks. She ran straight for her bunk and pulled out a bag that Mad Dog had hidden underneath it, containing the uniforms. Quickly, she changed into street clothes. Her work plant outfit would be a dead giveaway that she didn’t belong. Zipping up her jacket, Dana snatched the bag and her money and left.

  “Oomph!”

  She had run right into Mad Dog.

  “What’s your hurry?” he asked. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Thanks,” said Dana.

  “Don’t mention it. Ever,” replied Mad Dog.

  Dana decided to take a chance that he might help her again. “Officer Burroughs is on his way here,” she said, gambling on the universal hatred for the man. “I need you to keep him busy so I can get away.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “Uh, you’ll find out soon,” said Dana. “Look, if you want to get even with me for breaking your nose—”

  “Naw, that’s in the past. Besides, I owe him a few favors.” Mad Dog cracked his knuckles. He had been on the receiving end of Officer Burroughs’ anger too many times. “Go on. Get out of here. My friends and I will take care of Officer Burroughs.”

  “Thanks.”

  Dana ran out the door and to the outside world. She hurried down the hill to the fence, not caring if any of the officers saw her. She couldn’t wait until nine o’clock. Once at the fence, she squeezed through, making certain her bag did not snag on the barbs.

  Racing down the hill, Dana knew she could wait at Jesse’s until it was time to take the bus. She stopped. I can’t wait there and endanger them. Veering to the left, Dana decided to just go straight to the tracks. She would just wait around there. Few guards patrolled the area, since only freight trains came through there.

  Her feet slid on the gravel as she charged downhill. Losing her balance, Dana threw her hands out to catch herself. She jumped back to her feet and continued on, ignoring the bruises she had acquired.

  A lone cart sat in the fading sunlight. Dana hopped on it and worked the mechanism to move it. She powered the thing, pushing it toward the city. Thankful for the darkness that settled around her, she slipped by a few officers who had snuck out for a smoking break, a violation of the law, since all tobacco had been banned.

  Dana ignored the chilly wind that ripped past her, flinging her hair everywhere. Panting, she pushed onward. Her muscles burned from the effort. Keep going. Not allowing herself a chance to rest, she worked even harder to reach the edges of the city.

  As more lights came into view, Dana knew she had gone far enough. She slowed the cart and hopped off. Quickly, Dana found a spot within view of the bus stop. She settled down, placing the pack in her lap as she waited for the hours to pass until the time had come for her to catch the bus.