The Chase

by Bradley Caffee

  The passageway was wide enough for several people to walk shoulder to shoulder with the different colored barracks on either side. The entrance to each side hallway was colored like that of the team living there. Blue and Green were at this end of the corridor, closest to the gym and common room. Red and Gold were at the other end, nearest the track. The middle was occupied by Black Team on the right and an abandoned set of barracks on the left. Orange Team used to sleep there during Willis’s first year, but a massive accident had killed two of their members causing the other two to get recoded for the hundredth time.

  Rumor had it that the loss of an entire veteran team forced the administrators to rethink the process. Years of investment in training had been lost. While the threat of recoding kept racers training, the Alliance couldn’t afford to lose the elite ones. Rather than bring on a new team, they retired everyone on the old Blue Team leaving it ready for four unsuspecting new racers. The Blue Team would serve as a layer of protection. The new blueys brought to the station had no idea what their purpose was until it was too late, and the Orange barracks had been silent ever since. It was a dark reality that Willis tried not to think about when he passed that hallway. If he ever was to get home, questioning the system wouldn’t help.

  A sound coming from the empty Orange barracks drew Willis’s attention. He stepped softly down the passage to the Orange opening, not wanting to announce himself until he figured out what was happening. He peered around the corner.

  Casey Stone was up against the wall, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were full of fear staring straight in front of her, and her hands were wrapped around something. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the hallway, and that’s when he saw that she was pulling on the powerful forearm of Creed, whose fingers were wrapped around her throat.

  “Mario, I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it. I promise,” she whimpered.

  “Don’t call me by my name.” Creed’s nostrils flared. “You’re not my friend. You are a subordinate. I don’t address you as Casey. I think your brother’s lazy attitude to our rules is wearing off on you.”

  “Sorry, Creed.” Her voice weakened as she strained at his arm. “I’ll get Zeke in line.”

  “Your brother is going to cost us. I brought him on with the understanding that you’d take care of that slacker. Yesterday’s stunt with his uniform brought Blacc’s hammer down on our team. I don’t ever want that to happen again. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir. Please, you’re hurting me.” Stone’s tears flowed again.

  “Black Team will win this year. Make no mistake.”

  “But what about Red Team? Willis—” Her words were stopped short as the back of Creed’s hand found her cheek. He loosened his grip on her airway, and she slumped to the floor holding her face.

  “I don’t want to hear a word about that pretty boy. We’re going to win, and you’re going to do whatever I tell you so that we win. Do you hear me? Whatever I tell you.”

  Willis’s stomach turned at the scene. Casey was not a friend, but he couldn’t stand by to watch this. He hated Creed’s style of leadership, but this was beyond intimidation. This was abuse. He stepped out from the edge of the opening. “Pretty boy? Come on, Creed, I’m not half as good-looking as you are.” He smirked, hoping to draw the attention on himself.

  “Stay out of this, Willis. I had you beat yesterday. You’d better watch it. We’re going to take care of that number behind your ear yet.”

  “And you’d better watch out for obvious obstacles dropping from the ceiling.” He stepped closer, rubbing his ear for a second. Willis breathed a little easier when Creed stepped away from Stone to point a finger in Willis’s face.

  “You want to start something?” Creed challenged. He wouldn’t dare take on Willis here by himself. He was bigger, but any injury Willis delivered could threaten his chances. However, Creed was right. Black Team was threatening every month.

  “Nothing I don’t intend to finish in first.” Willis laughed. He couldn’t help it. Creed’s face grew wild for a second, before bringing it under control. He shoved Willis to the side and stomped toward the Black barracks.

  Pausing in the hallway, Creed spoke without turning. “Watch yourself, reddie. Things happen on the track. Remember which hallway you’re standing in.” Willis looked around at the orange lights and sighed. Creed meant every word of his threat.

  “You okay?” Willis turned to Stone who was curled up on the floor, her eye already pink and swelling.

  “He’s right, you know.” She looked up at him. “He’ll stop at nothing to win. You should be careful.”

  Willis raised his eyebrows and knelt next to her. “You speak from experience?”

  “Stay out of it.” She waved him off as he held out a hand. “I have to take care of my brother.” She blinked hard, and Willis could see the dampness collecting below her eyes.

  “Can’t your twin care for himself?”

  “No, he can’t,” she shot back, turning her face away.

  “Seriously?”

  “He’d get eaten alive on another team. He doesn’t care about the Chase.”

  “And that drives Creed crazy.” He grabbed her hand and helped her up despite her earlier dismissal.

  “No, it drives him mad—mad at me. Anyway, I’ve got it covered.” She brushed away non-existent dust from her legs and started to walk to the Black Team barracks.

  Well, you’ve got a role as Creed’s punching bag covered, anyway. Willis dismissed the joke about her last statement before it escaped his lips. It didn’t appear to him like she had it ‘covered.’ He watched her until she entered her quarters. Then he reentered the main passageway.

  “Willis!” Zeke’s voice came from behind him. He sounded worried. “Have you seen Casey? She didn’t show up at the gym this morning.”

  “In her room, I think.” Willis noticed Zeke failed to shave this morning. Creed would not be happy.

  “Thanks.” Zeke ran to her door, which was the first on the left, across from Creed’s. “What happened to your—” were the few words that escaped his lips when Stone’s hand suddenly grabbed Zeke’s shirt pulling him inside. Even from here, he could hear the intensity of her tone as she laid into him about yesterday. The voices were too muffled at first, but Zeke obviously didn’t get her point. Her voiced raised so that Willis could hear well enough.

  “Listen. I know the Alliance forced us to enter race training. Neither of us chose to, but Mom and Dad were too proud for either of us to say anything. I’m trying hard to get out of here, Zeke—to get both of us out of here. We make the Chase, and we’re done. We can go home. I know you don’t want to be here, but you don’t always have to broadcast it.”

  Forced to train? Willis hadn’t heard of anyone being ‘forced’ to train. As far as he understood, racers were either handed over at an early age by proud parents like he’d been or chose to enter training when they were older. Wrapping his mind around the idea of forced training felt like trying to pick up the entire track sphere. It didn’t seem possible.

  “So? Let him trade me to another team.” Willis imagined Stone-zee standing with his arms held out to the side.

  “And what, let you get recoded into nothing? Even if I make the Chase, how could I look our parents in the eye and tell them I couldn’t take care of you?”

  Willis couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like the tears she had held earlier had become too strong to resist.

  “Sis, it’s no big deal. You don’t have to take care of me.”

  “It’s a big deal because every time you mess up, I’m the one who gets punished.”

  Their voices lowered beyond understanding.

  Willis thought better of hanging there much longer. Creed wanted them at breakfast on schedule, so Zeke would be emerging soon. He quickly walked down the corridor and entered the red barracks. The red light brought him comfort. This was where he belonged. This was where he was preparing to represent his Alliance.

  Stone’s words ab
out her parents stuck with him, though. He’d never reflected on what he would say to his parents after the Chase. He had so many questions. Still, the Alliance couldn’t be all bad if his parents were so willing to send him here so young. The idea gave him a flash of comfort. Everything he’d heard about them—everything they said in their occasional one-way communications with him—told him his parents believed in the Alliance. If they did, he would too despite his questions. He sighed heavily. The day wearied him, and it had hardly started.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sheila stood outside the office of her editor. The frosted glass of the door kept her from seeing inside, but she recognized what awaited her. Chuck wasn’t a bad guy, but with the Alliance breathing down his neck constantly, her actions at this year’s Chase were going to reap consequences. No matter how hard she tried, it happened that her disdain for the Alliance always seeped through the cracks of her professional exterior.

  “You going in there?” Tony walked up behind her, appearing nervous. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Better get it over with,” Sheila sighed. She glanced at him with a small smile, wanting to wordlessly thank him for his concern.

  He squeezed her shoulder and then patted it. “I wonder what my new boss will be like. Hopefully a reporter who appreciates the hard work I do for them.” Tony returned to his usual demeanor.

  She shook her head. “Shut up, Tony. It’s not like much is going to happen. He’ll chew me out, and we’ll be back to business as usual.” She silently hoped that was all that would happen. Had she gone too far this time?

  “Dibs on your office.” He grinned. “Just in case.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Sure thing.” Tony winked then walked away.

  Sheila sighed, her long breath shuddering slightly. At least I hope it’s not that bad. She grasped that the day would come when she’d push it too far, but there would be warning signs. He wouldn’t take drastic action without some kind of intermediate reprimand. Still, her hand shook as she raised it. Would he? Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door to Chuck’s office.

  “Enter!” Chuck responded with an unusual level of grit in his voice.

  Sheila pushed the panel and waited as the door slid sideways. She expected Chuck to be seated at his desk with his feet up as usual, but it wasn’t Chuck at the desk. In his place was a little man in a dark suit. His jet-black hair was pasted to one side, and his overly slender fingers were gripping a file. Sheila gulped as she noticed her picture at the top of the first page.

  The man reached up and smoothed the lapels of his coat with both hands. It was then that Sheila saw the Alliance insignia on his coat, two eagles tearing apart a chain on a yellow background. The eagles were meant to represent freedom, a symbol left over from the pre-Collapse world, and the chain was to symbolize the shackles of anarchy. Law and order—The Law—was supposed to bring freedom. The chains were very much still there—polished a little—but still there. She stiffened as he spoke.

  “Your employer has been very accommodating in providing all we need to address our concerns about your work, Ms. Kemp.” He nodded his greasy head toward the corner where Chuck stood flanked by two uniformed men. They wore the black and yellow uniform of Alliance law-keepers, complete with batons and pistols at their side. Chuck was trying to stand proudly, but his dejected expression told Sheila they’d been grilling him for some time.

  “You could have asked me.” She threw a frown of concern in Chuck’s direction. “I’d have told you all you needed to know.”

  “I’m sure, Ms. Kemp.” The man smiled, revealing a perfect set of teeth. “Yet in the interest of complete disclosure, we believed it best to speak with your supervisor.”

  “And I’m sure speaking with us requires guns and batons, Mr—what’s your name?”

  “Careful, Sheila.” Chuck suddenly spoke up, a tremor in his voice. “This man isn’t from the Censorship Office.”

  He smiled again, pleased by Chuck’s warning. He folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “Your supervisor is a wise man, Ms. Kemp. You don’t need to know who I am, except that I’m your friend.”

  “My friend?” Sheila huffed. She crossed her arms and glared.

  “Yes, Ms. Kemp. I’m the one standing between you and my two uniformed associates here.” He nodded in the direction of the Law-keepers. His warning was not lost on her. “You see, we have enough to arrest you for insubordination and disturbing Alliance harmony. We’ve worked hard to build a perfect society that remains the best example of the Law throughout the world. It’s the Law that protects us all.”

  “The Law is good,” mumbled the two officers without hesitation. Sheila frowned at the automatic response.

  He leaned forward. “We can’t have people like yourself tarnishing perfection.”

  “So, if you’re not from Censorship, where are you from?” Her heart was pounding hard enough that she could swear he could hear it.

  “I am the Administrative Liaison to the Coalition Chairman’s Office.”

  “That’s a mouthful.” Sheila bit her lip. Easy, Sheila. Sarcasm isn’t going to win points.

  “What that is—is a direct line to Chairman DeGraaf. No representatives. No red tape. I get things done here in the Western Alliance for the chairman.”

  “Oh, so you do the chairman’s dirty work.” Sheila blurted the words before she could call them back. She swallowed hard to contain her anger. A man like this probably made the decision to take my father’s business. Still, her mind screamed at her to stop talking. She was not helping herself.

  “What I do,” the liaison’s voice lowered to an eerie whisper, “is take care of rebellious souls like yourself who seek to unravel the beauty of what our world has created. The chairman isn’t happy with your recent reports, which includes your smart little remarks at the Chase. I intend to see that it doesn’t happen again, from you or anyone else.”

  “So much for being my friend.”

  “I am your friend. Instead of locking you up to silence you, we’re going to grant you the great privilege of reporting from the front lines of the Chase.” His voice sounded hopeful, and Sheila couldn’t imagine what he meant. “You’ll be relocating to the training station in orbit to report on our young racers. This is a big year for us. Our runners are certain to take the Chase, and you’re going to show the world, and others like you, the greatness of the Western Alliance.” He paused, waiting to deliver his next words. “You will become a shining example of how reporters should represent our glorious Alliance.”

  “Gross. You expect me to agree to this?” Sheila leaned forward to show her seriousness. The man simply smiled again and folded his hands on Chuck’s desk.

  “How is your sister, Ms. Kemp?”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Sheila’s heart skipped a beat at this sudden turn.

  “How is she feeling in that hospital?”

  The image of Audrey lying in a hospital bed in her hometown rose in her mind. Growing up, she had no memories of her older sister in any state other than bedridden. Instead of games of hide-and-seek in the yard after school, Sheila had spent hours entertaining her sister by her bedside. Puppet shows with dolls, impromptu dramas, and long monologues about the cutest boys in school had filled that bedroom with moments that helped them both forget her illness. Nothing, however, brought as big a smile to her sister’s face as her little newspaper reporting on the happenings around the home and neighborhood. Even as an eight-year-old girl, she would chase down stories to get the most interesting angle and fill a page with descriptions for Audrey to read. Keeping up with the Kemps, she had called her little paper.

  “You have a gift, little one,” Audrey would often tell Sheila, her tired green eyes twinkling. She was the reason Sheila had pursued journalism in the first place.

  After her father’s removal, her mother had tried her best to take care of Sheila’s ailing sister, but as her condition worsened, she had to be checked i
nto a government hospital. The constant care her sister received was the sole thing keeping her alive. After their mother died, Sheila considered relocating her sister closer to where she lived, but Audrey’s condition had progressed. She could never survive relocation.

  “I-I don’t understand what my sister has to do with any of this.”

  “Her condition is a sad one, Ms. Kemp.” The liaison faked a forlorn expression. “Among other things, the glorious Law provides that we must maintain strict safeguards ensuring that precious resources are not misused. The hospital caring for her is under review this year. It would be a shame for the review board to find something wrong—a reason perhaps to remove the hospital’s funding. That would be so unfortunate, wouldn’t it? True, the patients could be relocated to other government funded hospitals. Most of them could, anyway.”

  He smiled again. Checkmate.

  Sheila held her breath. He’d left her little choice.

  “When do I leave?” Sheila straightened in her chair, not wanting to give away the defeat inside her.

  “Ms. Kemp, you’ve made a good decision. You leave immediately.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “They’re here,” the man whispered. He was standing at the end of a window, close enough to see but not be seen from those outside.

  “Here? How did they find out?” The familiar woman’s voice held a pleading note.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What are we going to do? Can we hide him?”

  “No, they know he’s here. If we ever want to see him again, we’ll have to let him go.” The man sounded defeated.

  “No. No. No!” The woman’s tears flowed.

  Thump. Thump. Thump. A heavy hand was pounding on the door. “Open up by order of the Alliance Chase Commission.” Someone shouted through the door.

  “Can’t we run?” Panic coated the woman’s voice.

  “I don’t know. I simply don’t know.” He looked around, his gaze darting from side to side.