Overthrown: The Great Dark (Overthrown Trilogy Book 1)

by Judd Vowell

  I knew Jeff wasn’t military. His directions weren’t that structured. They were more like something he had seen in a movie. But everyone seemed to feel safer following his lead. And safety was exactly what we had been seeking.

  There wasn’t much conversation as we walked. Everyone was concentrating on their surroundings. I checked with Henry every few hundred yards to make sure his leg wasn’t bothering him. We hadn’t let the others know about that just yet. Always the trooper, he never complained. But he did seem to be walking better. Maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part.

  ◊◊◊

  Jeff stopped us for lunch before noon. So far, we had been eating light midday meals on our journey. Big breakfast in the morning, big dinner at night, light lunch in the middle. If we were hunting for food, early morning or evening were the times to do it. Lunch was most importantly for rest. This particular lunch was also our first get-to-know-you conference. Felt like one of my old seminars.

  We found an area near the woods so we would have some shade, and some cover in case any uninvited visitors appeared. We settled in. I was the first to speak. “So, everybody. What’s your story?”

  Jeff, accordingly, spoke up first. “I guess the easiest place to start is college. The five of us were students when it all went down.” He glanced at Jessica and Henry.

  “Don’t worry,” I assured him. “They know everything.”

  Paul stepped in and continued, “Jeff’s my older brother. He and Beth were in graduate school together. Me, Anthony, and Madeline were undergrad.”

  “Anyway, we waited it out at school for a couple of months,” Jeff continued. “Never thought it would last. Then when it did, we made our way home.” He paused and looked around at each of them. “We’re all from the same town.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think anyone thought it would last, Jeff,” I said. “What brings you guys back out after all this time?”

  “The gathering,” Paul blurted out. I saw a bit of fire in his eyes.

  “Gathering?” I asked.

  “Oh, you haven’t heard?” Paul responded. “Go ahead, Jeff. Tell them.”

  Jeff put down his can of food and wiped his hands clean on one another. He cleared his throat, obviously preparing to speak of something important to him. “There is a gathering taking place. A convergence of like-minded and strong-willed souls who are ready to fight back.” He waited. He was a very good speaker. Inspirational, in fact. “This world, but more importantly this country, came crashing down thirteen months ago in a matter of days. You remember.” I nodded. “It takes a long time to recover from the magnitude of something like that. To come out of the shock of it all. To organize a resistance.”

  I looked around at the faces of our new-found friends. They were lit with excitement. I hadn’t heard about any kind of resistance forming, but it was apparent that something big had invigorated these young people. It brought me a sense of joy that had been missing from life for quite some time. But there was also a sense of dread that accompanied it. The protective parent in me, I suppose.

  Jeff continued. “We first got word about it two months ago. There’s a state prison where they’ve set up headquarters. Anyone who wants to fight has been instructed to be there no later than Memorial Day.” A half-smile crept onto his face. “Seems like a fitting day to start over.”

  I had to admit that it was exhilarating to hear, even as unrealistic as it may have seemed at the time. But I couldn’t get caught up in anything besides our family’s singular mission. If there was to be a war against ANTI-, it was one for the younger generation. To my consternation, nothing confirmed that more than the look I saw on Jessica and Henry’s faces that day. The unmistakable look of defiance.

  36.

  A NTI-Authority – Leader of the New Unknown (concluded)

  Part Six: Connecting the Human Dots

  Salvador Sebastian founded Faultline Technologies with his remaining inheritance after years of exploring the world. His entrepreneurial spirit was natural. His computer skills were not. But he immersed himself in the burgeoning science of code and software and algorithm. Like so many Sebastians before him, he was a quick study. He was also an excellent judge of people’s abilities, and his staff at Faultline was second-to-none.

  The company focused on Internet capability, as Salvador foresaw very early the power of its connectivity across the world. Faultline developed some of the Internet’s first large-scale websites. Soon, they were bidding on and winning government contracts for web development. By the turn of the century, they were a top ten company within the U.S. tech landscape.

  With the exponential growth that Faultline was experiencing, Salvador took advantage of the opportunity to introduce technology into countries and cultures across the globe. He invested large portions of his profits into developing electronic infrastructure in places that couldn’t afford to do it themselves. He built schools and donated computers. He created international scholarships for gifted children in poverty-stricken regions. He helped to make the world accessible to people who had no chance, no hope for something bigger.

  Then, on September 12, 2001, Faultline Technologies became something else. The company was under contract by the National Security Administration when the 9/11 attacks took place. Mainly being utilized to assist in development of government website protection, the people at Faultline knew little of what their company was actually securing. Once the country’s focus turned to Osama bin Laden, the contract became much clearer. Faultline was tasked with searching out and monitoring all Internet activity of known and suspected bin Laden associates. Salvador was not immune to the new-found patriotism that permeated through the American people in those months after 9/11, and he believed in the work that his company was doing. Until March 7, 2003.

  Salvador knew that the information his company was gathering would lead to death. He was not naïve about government operations. But the United States’ blatant inconsideration for innocent human life that was displayed on Faultline’s internal system that early March morning changed Salvador forever. The target’s location was identified by Faultline’s advanced global positioning arm. He was in a village of two hundred people, nearly half of which were children. These details were known, but ignored. The village was fire-bombed as its people slept. The target was eliminated, along with everyone else.

  Salvador’s attempts to cancel Faultline’s government contract were futile. He sold his stake in the company in December of 2003. And he thought. For two years, he questioned everything that he had done in life. He wondered if the technology that he once believed would connect the greatest of us was a sham. If, in the hands of the wrong people, it would only bring about more pain and suffering and evil. And out of this introspective desperation was conceived the way around it all: ANTI-.

  ◊◊◊

  With years of recruitment and growth, ANTI- has become just what Salvador envisioned it to be. Without the influence of government or money or corruption of both, he has still been able to connect the people of the world and affect change from within. To date, the number of ANTI- followers is unknown. Mr. Sebastian does not claim to know how many people subscribe to his philosophy, and he refuses to answer how many the ANTI- organization employs. But his resolve would lead this interviewer to believe that the number is large in both instances. ANTI- is no doubt affecting change across continents. The only question that remains: where will this change take us?

  37.

  T he first thing I did on a typical morning before the Great Dark began was find the remote and turn on the news. I was never at my best in the first moments of a day. Meg had learned early in our relationship to avoid speaking to me when I was just waking up. News, shower, coffee. Then, maybe, we could talk.

  I was especially groggy the morning that everything changed. I had tossed all night trying to get Dr. Raj’s hidden meanings out of my head. I clicked the bedroom television to life with my eyes still closed. The news was reporting some sort of electronic di
sruption in the government systems of countries in North and South America. The United States and Canada had been the first to acknowledge an outside interference with their internal servers, sometime early that morning. But it was unclear what that meant in my half-awake state. I decided to get up and shower away some of the cobwebs. It was probably typical media hype anyway.

  Meg startled me just as I was turning on the hot water. “Hey.” I almost jumped. Sometimes I thought she did it for a laugh. Not that day. “I think this is pretty serious. On the news. They’re saying it’s affecting satellite communications, that government security systems are completely down.”

  “Yeah?” I asked. I could sense her concern. I shut the shower off. “Let me get dressed. Pour me a cup?” She nodded.

  The only way I can describe the next two hours is by comparison. Comparison to a decade-plus earlier when our country was under violent, large-scale attack. Comparison to the stunned shock I experienced with then-girlfriend Meg as we watched the day unfold on September 11, 2001. Yes, this was different. No death, no explosions, no sobbing bystanders. But the feeling I had was undeniably the same.

  38.

  “ ...and so, you see, we have to get to that pharmaceutical building as quickly as possible. And back.” I was wrapping up our introduction to the others, our new fellow journeymen. I had tried to give them the short version of our story, but I wasn’t so sure there was one. That was the first time I had told it start to finish. Ever. For the last year and a month, we had just been living it. Without thinking too much about it. I longed for Meg more than usual when I finished. Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “I can shoot really, really good,” Jessica announced, breaking the somberness. Everybody stared at her. “Seriously.” She was smiling.

  “Really?” Jeff asked. “Exactly how good?”

  Jessica jumped into the story about the coyotes we encountered a few nights earlier. Then she started into our battle with the group of hunters without missing a beat. I didn’t stop her. I was trusting Jeff’s crew more with each minute that passed. They were good people. And they needed to know as much about us as they were willing to hear. Friends are much more protective than strangers.

  When Jessica got to the part about Henry’s explosives, I saw Anthony lean over and whisper something to him. Henry’s mouth broke into a big grimace. He was proud. The others were enthralled in Jessica’s storytelling. Jeff looked at me with question in his eyes. I winked and nodded at him, confirmation that the tales were true. I was glad to see the kids connecting with the group. We needed them to like us. But part of me was scared. Scared that my children were adapting to this new way of life too easily.

  After a bit more levity, Jeff stood up. “Time to get moving, everybody. We can keep up the bull-shitting once we make camp tonight.” He walked up to Jessica and Henry. “Glad to know I’ve got two more soldiers in my platoon,” he said to them. “Henry, you let me know if you need a break.”

  ◊◊◊

  We walked through the afternoon without slowing. The section of highway we hiked was level, nearly flat. I had looked at my map during our lunch break, and I knew that the next day was going to be tougher travel as we neared the foothills. I suggested we look for a good spot to set up camp for the night. Jeff and the others agreed.

  Our new friends were impressively efficient. In the time the kids and I had taken to put up our tent, they had staked their own shelters and started a fire. Paul and Anthony had already moved on to preparation for an evening hunt, checking their compound bows. Paul turned to us. “Hey, Jessica, you wanna see the hard way to kill an animal?”

  “Sure!” She looked up at me. “Dad, can I?”

  I saw no harm in it. “I guess so.”

  “How about you, Henry?” Anthony asked. “No work necessary. Just gotta be quiet.”

  “Yeah, ok.” And they were off. “Be careful, guys,” I thought to myself.

  I walked over to where Jeff had set up a low table, about a foot square. He had placed an old radio with antennae on it, from which I could faintly hear a steady voice crackling through light static. He had a notebook resting on the table in front of the radio. Every few seconds, he would jot down words or numbers in it. After a few minutes of watching him do this, the voice disappeared. Jeff closed his notebook.

  “What was that all about?” I ventured.

  Jeff stared at me for a moment. He hadn’t known I was listening. Then he decided to tell me. “The voice you could hear? That was Lefty.” I must have looked puzzled. He explained, “Ok, there’s a communication system in place for the resistance. Antiquated, but it works. If you can find an old one-way or two-way radio, you can pick up their signal. They send out messages almost every evening at sunset.”

  “‘They’ being who exactly?”

  “That’s complicated. Like I said before, we’ve only known about it for a couple of months. A group came into our town and started talk of a meeting. It was very much a grassroots thing. Word spread from house to house through conversation. I would say curiosity brought most people out. We met at the local high school gym, hundreds of us. They told us that a movement was developing, an underground war against ANTI-. Across the country, there were bands of people gathering at base camps run by the new resistance. They call themselves the American Liberation Effort. ‘Lefty’ for short.”

  “Wow, it’s that organized?” I halfway asked. “We’ve been so isolated from people that I hadn’t heard of a thing. What’s their plan?”

  “Won’t know until we get to the base camp. There were only a few of us who even decided to go. Seems like hopelessness is a hard thing to overcome.” Jeff thought deeply. “For those of us who do show up, there will be a plan. I know it. And we’ll fight for everyone else.”

  ◊◊◊

  The hunting expedition returned soon with a good-sized doe. Anthony and Paul cleaned the deer. We cooked the meat of the animal over the open fire, and we tried our best to eat it all. I slept peacefully later, the first restful night I had experienced on our journey. I suppose I felt comfort in Jeff and the others’ company. But there was something else. There was also a sense of comfort in knowing that there was a battle afoot, a battle for what once was good and right in the world. And that people like Jeff would be fighting it for me.

  39.

  ( Internal ANTI- email intercepted and decrypted by ISA. Released to American and European media outlets three hours before complete blackout.)

  Salvador,

  Systems for all countries on the American continents are scheduled to go offline at 5 AM this Friday. Chinese reaction should be delayed based on time zone difference. The European Union will follow as planned, ensuring that they remain defenseless. The Japanese concerns have been eliminated; they may last a few hours longer than the others, but their systems will fail eventually. The global electronic infrastructure should be under our control by the day’s end.

  The security team is recommending you stay in the bunker for 36 hours after we initiate. We do not expect any immediate response, but we cannot afford the risk. I will send you regular progress reports throughout.

  FtSoH

  Jacob

  40.

  W e kept the kids out of school that day. It was more out of history than fear. I wasn’t afraid that morning. That would come later. But Meg and I both knew that what we were witnessing was significant. One of those “where were you when so-and-so happened” moments. The four of us watched intently as reports rolled in from countries whose systems were falling offline just as America’s had. England, France, Saudi Arabia, Turkey, Russia. It was an electronic tsunami traveling from west to east.

  Once recognition of human involvement was realized, there was a global decision to ground all air travel and lock down border crossings. It was assumed that the next attack angle would be in the form of violence. A dirty bomb in a metropolitan area. An airplane used as a fuel-filled missile, like before. But this was going to be a new type of terro
rism. Something I had never imagined.

  We lost power that evening as the sun was setting. We had gone out for dinner. Had to get away from the TV for a little while. The waitress had just dropped food off at our table. Then, darkness. We ate anyway. But as the minutes ticked by and the lights didn’t flicker back on, worry began to creep into my head. And by the look on Meg’s face, hers too. I left cash for the food, and we took Jessica and Henry home.

  ◊◊◊

  The first few days were relatively calm. We had lanterns and candles and batteries. We salvaged what food we could out of the refrigerator. We talked with neighbors about what they may have heard, what the new conspiracy theory may have been.

  By the fifth morning, there was fear in the air. Everyone was disconnected. No phones, no computers, no television. And as far as anyone knew, it was that way throughout the country. One of our friends had driven a couple hundred miles and back, the distance his car’s tank of gas would carry him. He confirmed the blackout as far as he had been. More fear.

  Now, in general, I was never one to wait around for the other shoe to drop. I always had a good sense about what might be coming in life. And I could predict what was going to happen if the power didn’t come back. There was too much evil in the world to deny it. It was time to get my family away from the general population. I had to insulate us from...people.

  Family meeting time. We rounded up the basics: food, clothes, anything that was important. “Everybody, we may not be coming back. Whatever we can fit in the truck, grab it.” I could hear Meg crying as she loaded our suitcases.