Youth Patrol

by Andrew Lueders

  He walks out of the room, but he unknowingly kicks the map out of the office. It winds up out in the open for all to see. A couple of sheriff officers with prisoners in hand walk over it without even knowing what it is. It gets kicked around from one end of the room to the other.

  “Hurry up people, let’s get ‘em out of here!” Jeremin yells out. He then spots Dirk. “Can you get Droney up and working? We’re going to light this place up.”

  Dirk nods and presses a few buttons on the Drone Monster. (It’s still lying on the floor.) He presses another one, and the Drone comes to life. It starts to hiss and make all kinds of hydraulic sounds. That’s when everyone begins to move and get the hell out of the gas station.

  I look back and the map is still there. I look for Jeremin but he’s nowhere to be found. “Fuck it,” I say to myself. I run over and pick it up. I quickly fold it the best I can and shove it into a compartment in my belt. It barely fits but I get the zipper closed. I look around to see if anyone saw me. I think I’m good. I let out a sigh of relief, but then I see some guy in the corner, looking at me. Was he there the whole time? I notice he’s in handcuffs; he’s just a smuggler. I have nothing to worry about… I think. He’s a black guy, maybe a little older than me and taller too. He wears those denim pants you see in those old photographs and a black leather jacket that’s all torn up. He must have found it in a dump somewhere since they don’t make leather things anymore. He looks pretty confident for a man who’s going to die in prison. What the hell is he doing way back here? He should be up in the front with the other prisoners. I come up to him, grab him by the arm and take him out of the room. He keeps looking at me, eyeing me. I ignore him; at least I try to. Did he see me take the map? I then realize my visor is still up; it’s not covering my face. He could totally identify me. He could tell some authority that I have the map; I’d be arrested. A sheriff comes up and takes him away before I can do anything. I’m worried. Is he going to say something? Eating a Twinkie in front of smugglers is one thing, but stealing this map seems really wrong. But why is it wrong? It’s just an old map. It can’t be that bad… can it? Of course owning an old American flag gets you the death penalty. Could owning an old map be bad too?

  I get outside, away from the structure. The Drone Monster flies overhead, then unleashes its firepower. We stand around and watch the gas station burn. The red glow against the blackness of the night is hypnotic. A couple of YP’s congratulate each other for a job well done, while others begin dancing around.

  “Burn baby burn motherfucker!” Dirk cries out.

  I should feel happy about this. We’re burning illegal relics from the past. This is what I always wanted to do. This is what Youth Patrollers do. But… I don’t know. I just don’t feel… right. Damn it. I don’t know what to feel.

  I watch the fire engulf the building. Explosions go off. The flames must have found the weapons we couldn’t find.

  The last remaining smuggler is loaded up onto the Prisoner Shuttle. It happens to be Perry’s aunt. She turns around and looks one last time at the gas station. She scans the area looking for something. Looking for Perry? By the way, where is Perry? I start looking around for him, but I see the black guy with the leather jacket instead. He’s free. He somehow got out of his restraints and is walking away. I should tell someone, I should chase after him. He looks at me, but I don’t do anything. Why am I not doing anything? He puts his finger up to his lips and walks away. What if he did see me take the map? He could rat me out and then–wait a minute. He’s gone. He’s gone. Where’d he go? I just let someone get away. I begin to panic. I want to sound the alarm that someone is on the loose, but as I watch everyone celebrating the destruction of the gas station; I don’t think anyone would really care if one guy got away.

  CHAPTER 17

  The flames are dying down, the gas station is pretty much burned away and the sheriff officers have left and taken the prisoners with them. We’re left here, waiting for the rest of our support vehicles to arrive. All the YP’s seem happy about our new mission. We’re no longer on Concert Duty; we’re on Patrol. From now on we’re hunting religious fanatics full time. I stupidly send Val a mind-text to say goodbye and to see what she’s up to, but it promptly bounces back. I forgot we’re on L-Chip lockdown. She’s probably on the shuttle bus right now; I wonder what she’s doing. I wonder if she’s with Willenger. I don’t want to think about it.

  The support vehicles finally arrive, including the sleeping shuttles. Thank God, I’m wiped out. I find a bunk on the lower level and collapse on the soft pad. Perry wanted to tweak me earlier tonight, but I said no. I take off my helmet and place it in the slot above. I lie on my back and think about the day. My thoughts begin to wander and they wander to the map. Do I dare look at it? Everyone is outside partying, I can hear them laugh and joke. This would be a perfect time to sneak a look, but what if Jeremin walks in? I know what I’ll do. I’ll download ‘old American maps’ on my L-Chip. If it’s on The Database, then it’s got to be okay, right? Damn it, my L-Chip isn’t working. What is wrong with it? Oh yeah, I’m on L-Chip lockdown–duh. I keep forgetting that. I sit up, look around and quickly head for the bathroom. I lock myself inside. Are there cameras in here? I reach in the compartment on my belt and take out the crumpled up map, but I don’t unfold it. I just can’t, it probably isn’t right. I stuff it back inside. I unlock the bathroom door and walk out, but as I do, Jeremin is standing right in the hallway. Goddamn it, how does he do that? I hold my composure and walk by him. I climb back in my bunk and lie down. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do I. He walks over and sits on the bunk across from me. Does he know? Did he see me with the map?

  “What’s up, Jeremin? I mean, Commander.”

  “You can call me Jeremin when we’re off duty. So Evan, how come you’re not outside with everyone?”

  “Didn’t feel like it I guess.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You had one mother of a day, didn’t you?”

  I don’t answer, I think I nod, but I’m not sure. I want to tell him about the map, I want to tell him about the people we killed, the naked pictures and the Twinkies and the cigarettes, but I don’t. I don’t say a thing. I just lay there, just like I did when I rode back with him in the Wasp.

  “Here, have a drink.” He hands me a bottle of something. I didn’t even notice he had two bottles with him. “It’s beer,” he says. “Someone found a crate back at the gas station. We were able to chill it using the flash freezer in the kitchen. It’s pretty good.” He takes a swig. “The buzz you get from this is better then the buzz you get from the L-Chip. Not all things from the past were bad,” he laughs.

  “Beer’s illegal,” I answer. “It makes people fat, that’s why it’s illegal.”

  “Just take a sip. You deserve it.”

  “Did the smugglers brew it?” I ask.

  “Sure, I guess. People make their own brew all the time. It’s not hard. Just take a sip.”

  “I don’t want to, sir. It just doesn’t seem right.”

  “Sit up and drink it.”

  I grab the bottle. I look at it for a second and feel an anxiety attack coming on.

  “Drink it!” he growls.

  I bring it to my lips and let the cold liquid flow across my tongue and down my throat; the bitter taste is strange but surprisingly refreshing.

  “Not bad, huh?” he says, smiling.

  “Will I get used to it?”

  “What, the beer?”

  “No, being a Youth Patroller.”

  “That’s up to you, Sparks.”

  I nod like I understand. And again a long silence falls upon us.

  “Come outside with us,” he finally says.

  “I don’t think I can.”

  “Are you feeling okay? Do you need Perry?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the beer, or the smoke from Dirk’s cigarette; I ate a Twinkie for God’s sake. Maybe that’s what’s making me feel th
is way.”

  “Get up,” he says, walking to the door. “That’s an order.”

  I sit up like I’m going with him, but I stop myself and remain there on the bunk. Jeremin realizes I’m not coming, so he turns around and looks at me. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Why is it okay for us to break the law, Jeremin? I mean we looked at unauthorized pictures of naked women today. That’s illegal, there’s no way around it. We did stuff that was wrong, but no one around here cares.”

  Jeremin takes another swig of his beer. “We enforce the law, that’s what we do,” he says indifferently.

  “But shouldn’t Youth Patrol comply with the laws we enforce. Shouldn’t we be examples to the world?”

  Jeremin smirks. “Oh, to be an idealistic bright eyed innocent. Look Evan, You need to chill. You need to take a deep breath and calm the fuck down. So we looked at some tits today, so what. At least I don’t have an old map of the United States stuffed down my pants!”

  My heart stops.

  “Most rookies would be happy with a Twinkie,” he says mockingly. “But you? Oh no, you take a map. No one gives a fuck about an old map. Why do you give a fuck, Sparks? Are you secretly part of the Resistance? Is that it?”

  “No! Absolutely not! I was…I was, I… I’m curious! I’ve never seen a map like that before!

  “No one has,” Jeremin comments. “No one has, because no one cares.”

  “Is it wrong to look?” I ask.

  “Maybe,” he replies. “But you could have seen that map anytime you wanted. It’s been on The Database for years; it was there all along.”

  “It was? I had no idea.”

  “Of course you had no idea, because you didn’t know it existed.”

  “But now I know. And now I want to look. Is that bad?”

  “It depends on why you want to look.”

  “I don’t know why, I just do.”

  “What is it about that map you remember?” he asks. “What sticks out in your head?”

  “Um, I don’t know, maybe the size of the U.S.? I just can’t believe how big our country was.”

  “Were you impressed with that, Evan?”

  “Huh?”

  “Impressed,” he stresses, “Were you impressed?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t? You’ve heard your whole life just how bad our country was. And then you see it, the great American empire, stretching from sea to shining sea. You couldn’t help yourself, but be impressed. Hell, you might have even been proud to be an American at that point.”

  I glance up at him. Could he be right? Could I really be impressed with the old America?

  Jeremin sits back down. He leans forward, demanding my attention, making sure I don’t look away. “Just remember, Evan, America committed genocide, implemented slavery. That’s why it was so big, not because it was great, but because it was evil. Are you impressed with that? Are you?”

  “Well no.”

  “Good, because the people we arrested today are. They can’t handle the fact that America has changed. They want to go back to the way things were. Do you want to go back to the way things were, Evan? Do you? Do you want to be like those smugglers?”

  I shake my head no.

  “Now give me the fuckin’ map and forget about it.”

  “I just didn’t know, Jeremin, that’s all. I just didn’t know.”

  “That’s fine. Just give me the map.”

  “Did you know, Jeremin? Did you know just how big we were?”

  “We’re still big.”

  “But not like that. How could we have lost all that land? Do you know what happened?”

  “You pick up a few things when you’re out here, you hear stories. But it’s all in the past. It’s history, and hate was our history, that’s all you need to know.”

  He holds out his hand for me to give him the map. I take a deep breath and reach into the compartment in my belt. I pull out the map and give it to him. He looks at me carefully. What is he thinking? Does he think I’m going to crack? Is he going to send me away? He gets up and walks out of the shuttle. I’m left alone.

  CHAPTER 18

  My L-Chip vibrates. I’m awake. The Senator’s morning devotional is about to begin. I’m actually looking forward to it. Ever since I joined Youth Patrol a month ago, this is the only thing we’re able to watch through our L-Chips.

  Greetings my friends. Greetings. I am pleased to announce that the Resistance is failing all around us. Secret worship centers that preach hate are being dismantled on a daily basis. American forces are pushing further into Utah. Its borders are shrinking, we’ve siphoned off their supplies; we’ve imposed sanctions. Utah’s Governor, Orson Puck, the leader of the Resistance, is not only feeling the pressure from the American forces, but from his own people as well. Internal turmoil within their ranks has all but crippled their cause. All the different religious sects living within Utah’s borders are now at each other’s throats. Jew vs. Christian, Christian vs. Catholic, Catholic vs. Muslim. A civil war within Utah is inevitable. It could break out at any moment. But are we surprised at their lack of tolerance? Of course not. Tolerance and religion don’t mix; they can never live side by side. Religion never uplifts, never accepts, it only breaks down, it always hates.

  Oh America, we once only imagined a world of no religion. But friends, we no longer have to imagine, that day is upon us. Praise our congress and our politicians for their enlightenment. Thank them for their Policies and Regulations. Thank them; oh thank them for their wonderful benevolence. Our Government is patient; our Government is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs for those who do right. The Government policies do not delight in evil but rejoices in tolerance. It always protects those who are charitable, always trusts those who think correctly. Our Policies will never fail. They will never fail.”

  The broadcast ends. I roll over in my bunk and try to go back to sleep. I can’t. The Senator seemed to be in a good mood. Maybe he had sex with Val last night. That would put me in a good mood. What am I doing? Stop thinking about her. She’s in the past. It’s been four or five weeks since I last saw her, and she’s still in my thoughts. I mind-texted her last week, but of course nothing got through. I wonder if she ever thinks about me? I wonder if she’s still pregnant? Probably not on both accounts. She’s probably forgotten all about me and ended the pregnancy the day I left. She probably even bragged about it. I can see her doing that, joking to everyone how her L-Chip failed. I shouldn’t think about her. I really shouldn’t. I’m here and she’s there and there’s nothing I can do. Nothing. Not a goddamn thing.

  I let out a sigh and roll onto my back. I’m glad I’m here. I am. I actually think I’m getting pretty good at this whole Youth Patrol thing. It’s taken some time, but I’m pretty good at it now. At least that’s what I think. I mean, last week I led a raid–me, the new guy. I led a raid on some religious fanatics. That’s got to mean something, right? Jeremin wouldn’t have chosen me if I wasn’t ready. He came up to me before the raid and said, “Sparks, you’re on point.” So I led the team. I think I know why he did it though. Two of the RF’s we busted turned out to be the parents of Janice, the girl from the concert, the girl who told me her parents go to a secret church. I didn’t think Jeremin was paying attention to me when I told him about her, but he was. The girl’s story checked out, her parents did go to a secret church, so we got the call. Janice was at school when we busted them. Her parents thought they could get away with worshiping during school hours. Jeremin ordered a school bus to pick her up at the same time as the raid. But where the school bus took her, I’m not really sure. I just assumed she was sent to Santa Verde, but Jeremin always talks about how the new recruits first have to go to some secret conditioning center. I’m not really sure what that is or what he’s talking about it, but I’m sure she’s fine. She probably cried, but she
’ll get over it, she’s one of us now, she’s a Youth Nationer.

  The morning drags on and we haven’t heard anything from Santa Verde yet. They should have sent us our orders by now. I’m itching to get going. I want to go bust some religious group, or some crazy ass smugglers hiding out in a basement. Last week we found a group praying in a sewer. You just can’t believe the extent religious fanatics go through just to have church. We usually catch them right in the middle of their services. That really pisses them off. We come in and break their shit. We incinerate their bibles, their religious symbols; their crucifixes. I never really knew what those crosses were all about until I joined the Patrol. I knew they were linked to religion, but I never really knew just how much it meant to these religious fanatics. They freak out when we tear them off their walls. They go nuts, seriously, it’s just a symbol; it’s just a cross. Jesus Christ, why do they freak out over a cross?

  I don’t question our tactics anymore. I really don’t. I know better. That first day was rough, but I’m used to it now. And when we do find those old vices, their magazines, their unhealthy food, I actually like flaunting it in front of them. I smoke their cigarettes, look at their porn; drink their alcohol. We conquered them and now we have their shit, the shit they fought so hard to keep. I was just naïve back then. I’m surprised how quickly I’ve changed. I have changed. I do love hurting RF’s like Jeremin wants me to. Perry hardly has to tweak my L-Chip now for ‘emotional reasons’. I’m proud of what we’re doing out here, I really am. We’re doing a really good work.

  CHAPTER 19

  This waiting around for our next assignment sucks. I take a swig of beer. I don’t remember opening the bottle, but there it is, right in my hand. We must have taken a crate of it on one of our last raids; we take so much stuff as it is, it’s hard to remember every little thing. I take another gulp. I actually prefer beer to tweaking. I didn’t think I would, but I do, it feels like I’m accomplishing my intoxication and not just sitting around having my L-Chip manipulated. Perry’s been able to balance out the effects of my drinking, so I can go out on missions. I can drink all night long and feel fine the next morning. He does it to all the Patrollers who drink, which is most of us. I don’t think he likes doing it, but what’s he going to do. He’s the medic; he has to.