Oculus (Oculus #1)
Page 16
“Dad,” I whisper, trying hard not to gasp at the sight of him. He has bruises the color of mine but worse. One of his eyes is swollen shut. He has some kind of boot on one foot, a cast or bandage of some sort, I can only assume. There is a small bandage crossing over one eyebrow. There is another large bandage concealing yet another wound on his scalp.
“Iris,” he sighs, leaning his head back against his pillow.
I make my way over to him and can’t help the tears that spill from my eyes and slip down my face from behind my glasses.
“Iris?”
“I found the box.” It’s all the answer I can manage.
“Careful,” he whispers.
“Dad, how, why—” I trail off, fighting the knot in my throat.
“Not here. Do you remember when you learned braille?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget you pressing me to learn.”
“Remember the quizzes we had?”
“Of course,” I say while recalling the times he sat me down and used his fingers to make the marks of the braille alphabet in the palm of my hand. It began as just the alphabet. Then he’d spell out words. Then full sentences. He’d spell something out in the palm of my hand and ask me to say it aloud. I loathed the activity of practicing braille and sharpening my tactile senses, but he insisted.
I watch as he takes my hand in his and turns my palm upward.
I. M. S. O. R. R. Y.
Tears stream down my cheeks, unabashed and it shocks me how easily I can recall sitting cross legged on the floor in front of him, reluctantly practicing in hopes of a sweet treat as soon as we were done.
“How’s everything at home?” he asks absentmindedly and it confuses me.
“Fine,” I nod just as his fingers begin spelling out something new in my palm.
S. I. C. A. R. I. U. S.
“You’ve got everything under control?”
“Yes. I’m taking care of things at home.”
“Good. Have you gone to Procurement Day?”
W.I.L.L. B.E. S.A.F.E. W.I.T.H. H.I.M.
“I think I’ll go on my way home,” I mutter halfheartedly as I focus my attention on the invisible marks his fingers are making in my palm.
“Good. Don’t forget the extra flour for your birthday cake this month.”
L.I.S.T.E.N. B.O.O.K.M.A.R.K.
“What?” I whisper just loud enough for him to hear.
“Your birthday, Iris. Don’t you remember that it’s your birthday this month?”
“Right,” I nod, feeling very confused because my birthday was last month. Maybe his medication is clouding his mind.
B.O.O.K.M.A.R.K.
He silently signs the word ‘bookmark’ into my hand before he shifts his head forward and slips his necklace from around his neck and enfolds the worn leather twine into my hand.
“Dad, you should rest,” I say as I withdraw my hand from his. I turn his aging hand over in mine and pat the back, careful not to disturb the tube connected to him. This is an IV?
“I love you, Iris. I would do anything in this world for you. You know that, don’t you?”
“I do.” I just don’t understand how or why the man who I call father has kept so many things a secret from me.
“Better mad with the crowd than sane all alone.” - How to Use Your Enemies, Baltasar Gracián
I WILL NEVER, FOR THE life of me, understand how people live under The Corporation’s thumb. Being told that you can only have something when they think you have earned it. Having everything stripped away from you the moment they feel you’re no longer deserving. Arbitrary tyranny, that the sheeple of The Corporation embrace with an almost fervent joy. While they may privately, and very quietly, grouse about the things they are not able to have, they revel in the advantages they have over their neighbors. The Corporations are easily able to play their servants off each other in a never ending game of one-upmanship.
During my skulking around the compound I had been witness to almost every type of underhanded dealing imaginable. From sexual favors being traded for supplies to guards beating low ranking employees for daring to look at them too long. Then there was the sickening existence of the supervisor, the late Mr. Benson and his abuse of the compound’s children. All part of the disgusting machine that is The Corporation. The entire place was like a cesspool where the slaves climb all over each other in an effort to be on top. It doesn’t matter what you do, you’re still covered in shit.
Since the recent demise of Security Chief Ingram, changes have been occurring all across the compound. It started small, the additional guards on the wall and then new cameras being installed. Next, the patterns of the roving internal squad’s paths were altered. Patrols now overlap in a way that maximizes efficiency. This is important, as I had eliminated a large amount of their staff during my race to save Iris. After the ‘terrorist attack’ had claimed the lives of so many security personnel, the new chief had to make do with what she had. I would love to have been a fly on the wall when Chief Williams examined the tapes looking for the attackers. The terror she had felt at all the blind spots in their surveillance network would have been amusing.
Chief Williams is taking no chances. Every non-resident building in the settlement is being retrofitted with electronic scanners. The Corp has decreed that all the residents will be given twenty percent less power because of this and other security enhancements. The grumblings this causes are subdued, most of the people are frightened enough to comply. I hate that something I’ve done was giving The Corp more power over their slaves. They’re opportunistic bastards; you have to give them that.
When I examine all of the changes together, I’m able to see a disturbing pattern emerging. Chief Williams is making her mark. Public announcements of her appointment have blared from all of the video stations in the compound. Though she has yet to make a personal appearance, she’s making her presence known. At the rate she’s going, the entire compound will soon be locked down, making escape with Iris problematic.
There’s no way I’m going to hazard taking Iris out of the compound in a hail of gunfire. A stray bullet could take her from me, and that’s not an acceptable risk. After extensive recon, I find three escape routes that are as yet undiscovered by security and set about making them inaccessible myself. The exit from the old hospital basement that I used before was the easiest. Security dropped most of the basement already to destroy that path. I simply had to shift some heavy concrete out to make a warren hole in the lower corridor. The slabs I’m able to move were far too heavy for a normal man to shift. Even two men would be hard pressed to lever them out of place. Secure in the knowledge, I put two such slabs in place. This will be my primary escape route. From there I can make my way across the gap in the corridor below to the outside. I’d made it over the gap with Iris in my arms before, which makes it the only trusted method of escape.
I clear tunnels along paths that security had collapsed with explosives. I’m able to crawl through them to the outside after shifting debris, however I’m unable to stabilize the tunnels themselves. Still, it gives a safer option than racing away through a hail of bullets. Using the tunnels, I move supplies outside the perimeter whenever time allows. I want to be ready once Iris comes to her senses.
Had it been anyone else I would have sedated them, thrown them over my shoulder, and made my escape. This tried and true method had served me on several occasions when I had to remove key personnel that The Resistance had a use for. But when it came to Iris, I hesitated.
Knowing she is real, that I can touch her, hold her in my arms. It is all just too much to process. When she is happy I feel like I could fly, but when she is sad I want to sink into a hole. Is it just the genetics? It is some biological imperative programmed into me like my need to exercise? Or is it more? It feels like more.
As security tightened its grip on the compound, I was glad that I had stockpiled supplies. Electronic locks could be bypassed, but that normally sets off an alarm. It would
have been problematic for security to realize that they had a Resistance agent loose inside their compound.
Because only a fool would overstay his welcome like I have.
Even with all the activity, I needed to get out of the compound, at least for a few hours. Being cooped up in the house didn’t allow me to get enough exercise and I shortly felt like I was going to bounce off the walls. I did push ups while Iris was away at the hospital. Between my enforced captivity and my concern for her, I had to do something to burn off the excess energy. When she returned we spent a few hours together. She was angry, upset at her father, at me, at The Corporation. It took me a while to distract her and tire her out. When she was sleeping soundly, I went out the window. I took one of the tunnels that I had to crawl through, doing what I could to reinforce the walls as I passed through. When I was finally outside the compound I cautiously moved away into the woods.
My caution was warranted. Security Chief Williams had changed the patrols out here as well. Overlapping groups armed with high powered lights swept the trees at irregular intervals. I was able to pass undetected, but I could tell this was going to be an issue. Even if I could get Iris to leave soon, it would be difficult to get out completely unseen. My mind worked through the issue as my body races through the darkness.
If I set up an explosion near the center of the compound, that would draw security in from all parts of the wall. Then I wouldn’t be telegraphing my movements and I could slip out with Iris. Perhaps a wall breech, or two…no, they’re watching the wall too closely. Wait…the tunnels. They think they’re still sealed. I could plant explosives in each tunnel and that would draw them away from the perimeter patrols. Yes, that just might work.
It was a rough plan, but it was better than what I had when I woke up. The supply caches I had were far enough outside the perimeter sweeps to have remained undiscovered. Collecting a large batch, I set off for the Junior Resistance hide out. When I arrived, I found Cade hiding in the trees outside. He was doing a better job of remaining hidden than he used to, I had given him a few tips, but I still picked him out in seconds. The Corp would probably be using heat sensors and would have found him almost as quickly.
“Cade,” I say quietly as I eased up next to him. He jumped and started swinging his fist towards my face. I caught it easily and gave him the half second pause it took for him to recognize me before I released his hand.
“God, do not do that! Give a guy a little notice.” I smile, because I knew that was what he expected, but I didn’t see anything funny about the situation.
“What are you doing outside? Your presence will alert The Corp to the others if they scan for heat signatures. The walls of the hideout are what protect you from their scans. Keeping a look out is archaic and will get you all killed.” I say it calmly, but he pales and his eyes rapidly scanned the woods behind me.
“Is that why you’re here? Are they coming for us?” I shrug off my pack and tossed it to him. He catches it, stumbles back against the wall, then recovers and sets the pack on the ground.
“No,” I say. “But things are changing in the compound. There is a new security chief, Williams. So far she has closed a lot of escape routes from the compound, locked down all the supplies, and is systematically searching the facility. It is imperative that you make your rations last for as long as possible. I’m not sure how many more runs I will be able to make.”
“Do you think we should make a run for it?” He looks close to panic. I give him a thoughtful look then I shake my head emphatically.
“No. You would get caught. They have an outer perimeter sweep going on right now. The best thing to do is wait for an opportunity. We may have a window soon and if so, you will need to be ready to move. Take only what you need to survive, food, water, medicine and haul ass. The best direction for you to travel is east by north east. That line will take you up in to the foothills, away from Corp presence.”
“Wait,” Cade says , “aren’t you going to come back? To lead us out?”
“Plans change on the battlefield in an instant.” I say. “Contingencies will keep you alive. Do you still have the compass I gave you? Do you remember how to use it?”
Cade nods, and pulls the old brass compass from his pocket. I review with him again how to use the needle to find his direction, and how to use the lines on the glass to navigate. I have no plans to return for Cade and his followers, not unless Iris demands it. So I give him the means to save himself. I don’t have a lot of faith in his chances, but anything is possible.
I go inside with him and check on the others. The interior has begun to take on a rank odor I associate with large groups of unwashed people. I don’t stay long. There’s a hostility in the gaze of many present, as if I am somehow to blame for their current situation. I have Cade accompany me to the door, using the moment to give him a few last-minute instructions.
“Stay inside,” he nods, but I don’t let it go. “I mean it. There is more chance of them spotting one of you outside with their tech than of you seeing them. If they find you, then all of you are as good as dead. Remember that.” He nods again, his complexion paling at my words. “And Cade? Keep an eye on your people. This is the time, when things get desperate, that people start to crack. If one of them tries to run home and beg forgiveness you could all end up in the ground.”
Closing the door behind me, I spend a few minutes covering the signs of my approach to the hideout. Backtracking on my own trail, I set a few false paths before making my way back toward The Corp compound. Patrols are thicker now, almost too heavy for me to slip past. It’s as if they know that I’m there.
Getting back into the compound is easy. I simply crawl through the roughest of the tunnels. I shore up the walls as I go, noting the best place to lay explosives for my diversion. When Iris and I leave, I can probably drop part of the wall by careful placement of a bomb. The wall was designed to resist damage from the outside, not underneath.
Coming out of the tunnel, I slide back a rough square of concrete. Making sure I’m alone, I conceal the opening beneath the slab again then make my way into the street. It’s only an hour before the pre-dawn light brightens the eastern sky. I need to get back to Iris. I’d felt no alarm from her through the night, yet I yearn to see her again, to touch her again. My lip curls in a devilish grin as I imagine just how I’ll wake her this morning.
In my rush to see Iris, I make a mistake. A simple mistake, something that I had not done in over a decade. I forget to scan the area completely before I moved into the open. There is no patrol nearby, I hear no one moving so I think it’s safe. I’m halfway up the side of the house, thinking only of Iris when a scream rings out.
“Security! Security! There’s a man climbing onto that house!”
In horror, I look to the origin of the noise and see Iris’s friend Hattie hanging half out of her window. Her gaze is on a five-man security team a few streets over. They follow her pointing finger and begin double timing it toward me. I hesitate, when I should’ve just killed her. It gives security enough time to get close. Having no other option, I leap across to another building, hoping to lose security down one of the nearby alleys. As I land on the ground, a klaxon starts to blare. Lights that had been installed on every street corner turn on and the night is suddenly as bright as day.
Idiot! You should have known they would update the lights as well.
From behind me I hear the shouts of the security patrol I’d left behind. Racing down to the end of the alley, I peek around the corner. Two more patrols are heading my way, one of them on a vehicle with a heavy gun mounted in the back. Cursing, I back track, grabbing an overflowing trashcan as I ran. Tossing the can into the path of the security guards just as they turned the corner, I knock them to the ground in an explosion of garbage. Leaping over their prone forms I strip one of them of his rifle as I pass.
Mentally reviewing my options I decide to make for one of the tunnels. It isn’t ideal, but if I can get outside the wall I can
lose them in the forest. The hum of electric motors from all around warn me that I’m running out of time. Security now has vehicles to respond to incursions, something which balances out my ability to run. I throw myself forward into a roll as I hear the click of three sniper rifles chambering rounds. Concrete flies as the rounds impact the space I just occupied.
The guards keep their distance, and use their rifles to try and take me down. I’m suddenly too concerned with dodging incoming fire to think about where I’m going. Too late, I realize that while they’ve been trying to kill me they were also herding me. I enter a blind alley just ahead of a large caliber bullet that threw chunks of dirt up from the ground it impacted. Looking to the wall at the far end of the alley, I sprint toward it. I can see three handholds that might allow me to gain the roof. From there it’s a short trip to the entrance to the tunnel. If I can make the tunnel I’ll be able to slip into the woods while they try to flush me out of hiding up here.
The wall’s a few feet away when I hear the hissing. Holding my breath, I leap from the ground and grasp the first handhold. My hand extends toward the second grip when the cloud of gas hits my skin. There are many types of gas that The Corp likes to use. Nerve gas, poison gas, tear gas, and when worried about damage to their precious slaves- sleeping gas. The mixture of chemicals are absorbed on contact with the skin. Holding your breath did no good, nor did a mask of any kind. Only a full body containment suit would protect you from the chemicals.
The second it touches me, my strength starts draining from me. I manage to get to the second hand hold, but I’m not able to pull myself up. My fingers lose purchase and I fall back from the wall. I try to twist my body so that I’ll at least land on my head. I don’t want them to be able to capture me alive. But my traitorous muscles refuse to respond, and I fall back into the dark corner of the alley, impacting on my back. I fumble with the rifle, trying to bring it to bear, not on the approaching security personnel, but on myself. If I can just get the muzzle to my head, I can blow my brains out before they have a chance to take me. The lights begin to fade from my vision as the chemicals steal my consciousness. The last thing I see is the rifle falling from my hands to the ground.