by B. C. Tweedt
“Pull!”
His squad pulled hard, but PatriARC grasped with both arms, bellowing in hatred. His eyes told the story. He’d spotted both the drone and the boy in the red hat who pulled the hard drive from its access panel.
Then Windsor was there.
He shot through the window of the van leg-first, pummeling PatriARC in the face, kicking through his open visor at his exposed eyes. The man screamed and finally let go.
Safely away, Drake saw the passenger pull something from his vest. A pistol. His bloody hand waved it in Windsor’s direction.
“Windsor!”
But the shot never came. The passenger’s gun shook like a flag on a pole, left, right, and then down. Then his whole body went limp, revealing the dart sticking from his neck.
BRUUUUUUUUHHHHH!
Chapter 45
The kids ran, covering their ears, following Greyson as a small army of soldiers emerged behind the rhino.
[You got it? Find shelter! Almost there!]
Greyson ran with abandon to the nearest shelter he could find – the marble chapel. Up a long ramp, he swung open the door and held it open, ushering them in before closing it behind them all.
Clunk.
And quiet.
Stillness.
Only muffled shouts vibrated through the thick marble walls.
All of their breathing mixed as one, though Greyson’s was harder than the others’. He had set Liam on overwatch and could see the crazy amount of dots that appeared on his motion sensor. The others didn’t know, but he did.
Still frantic, Greyson searched for a way to hold out until Rubicon came.
Greyson looked around. It was nearly empty. Only a simple altar with two rows of chairs facing it. Not much to look at. And nowhere to hide. But could they carry the altar?
“Block the door, with the altar…” he began.
But his friends were looking up. His gaze joined theirs, and he lost his breath.
Beautiful.
A spectacular collage of stained-glass windows spiraled higher and higher, releasing a rainbow of fantastic colors as it reached toward the pinnacle. The colors were mesmerizing, peaceful, and tranquil.
A message emblazoned on the wall matched the feeling the place gave him with eerie accuracy.
Enter His gates with thanksgiving…
for the Lord is good
and His love endures forever.
- Psalm 100:4-5
He wanted to gaze at the spiral longer. He really did. But he heard muffled gunfire outside. Shouts from soldiers. The clonking of riot rhinos. Liam’s gun firing and firing.
And then the whole chapel shook, releasing dust from the ceiling, floating in the rainbow light like fairy dust.
Greyson gulped at its beauty. He wanted to surrender to rest, but, feeling the weight of the hard drive in his hand, he snapped out of it and raced to the altar. “Guys, here!”
Windsor was the first to jump to his aid. “An altar call? I’m in.”
The others came too, and together they hefted it toward the door.
He heard more shouts, more footsteps.
[Charges on the roof. Take cover.]
Greyson digested the message and blurted it out. “Take cover. Under the chairs!”
They slid to the chairs and covered their heads. But nothing came.
“Just like in class. Stupid nuke drills,” Grimes muttered. “The likelihood is near zero. Nothing ever hap – ”
The blast sucked the air from the room and dropped a barrage of dust and debris on their chairs and the floor around them. Greyson pulled up his gaiter and the others did the same, but the white dust made them feel as though they were in a toxic cloud.
Greyson shifted, feeling the crunch of the glass underneath his knees. The rainbow of stained glass windows had shattered and now made a speckled array on the cobbled floor, each piece sticking out with vibrant color on white.
Out of the sky came three men on ropes, zipping toward him in quick descent. Their black bodies slid through the white smoke and smacked the debris-ridden ground.
“Grab on, Orphan,” Grover commanded.
Greyson smacked his head, knocking the dust from his hair and pummeling his brain into action. “Uh…yeah, okay! Beep, Ankeny, Grimes. Go!”
“Just you, Orphan!”
He stared them down, glancing at Drake’s squad as they huddled together. No one was being left behind this time. He cursed at Grover. “I got the hard drive. And I’m only going if you take us all.”
Grover glared, but just grunted under his breath. “Get on.”
Greyson motioned to Beep, Ankeny, and Grimes, and they ran to the men. The invisible helicopter zipped them up.
When the soldiers zipped back down, they grabbed the frozen boys and excited dog, hauled them in, and held on tight.
“Hold on!”
[Go! Go! Go!]
Greyson felt a jolt. He was jerked off his feet in an instant, leaving his intestines near his feet. His blood sunk from his face as the chapel disappeared underneath. Then the square. The soldier ants. The rhinos. The matchbox Humvees.
Every muscle in Greyson’s body seized as he hung from the heli as it raced between skyscrapers, alongside windows and over roofs.
Drones flew underneath like flocks of birds. Buses lined the interstate. Helicopters encircled the city. Tiny people speckled parking lots. And smoke wafted over the city like evil spirits amongst the good.
-------------------------------
Sydney and Nick leaned on their knees from the couch, close enough for the television screen to play its colors across Nick’s lenses. His lips were pressing hard together and his brow tense. Sydney knew not to say anything. Her parents had already chastised her enough. Because of her rash act, they could no longer trust what they obtained through intercepted satellite radio communication. What once was highly valuable, was now useless – all because of her. And worse, if the Plurbs caught on that Rubicon knew what they had done in Dallas, they might adjust their bigger future plans enough that they couldn’t be stopped.
It was like they had been hunting in the woods, Jeremy had said, tracking deer. Stealth was key. The buck could not hear you or smell you, or it’d run – and it would take days to find it again. They’d been hunting a big, prized buck – Operation Cicada – on its tracks, getting closer and closer. And then she’d fired a shot in the air.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Nick mumbled still staring at the screen. Then he almost looked sad. “I wish you hadn’t.”
Sydney watched the smoke rising from Dallas. Images of people running for their lives. She hoped somehow to see Greyson among them, still alive. To her, that would make it all worth it.
“Jordan’s not going to say anything. He said he wouldn’t. We’re in the clear.”
Nick shot her a stern look. “All clear? The man on the other end has to know he was duped. Besides that, what do you think’s going to happen next, huh?” He put a hand toward the TV. “Huh?”
“I-I don’t know.”
“I’ll tell you what happens. The Plurbs use this as proof that the government is evil, and that secession is the only way out.” Agitated, he sat up and began to pace, kicking at the carpet. “Rather than accept blame for a massacre they actually didn’t do this time, the government is forced to blame it on the Plurbs, which, in effect, tells the world that the most powerful military in the world was hacked and can’t be trusted to protect the people. Either the government is evil or incompetent.”
He spoke fast, rambling now. “You know they’ll try to delay the whole thing. Launch a yearlong investigation – hope people forget about it. But no matter what they try, they’ve fallen into their own trap. Facts and evidence don’t matter anymore. It’s all perception. People see and believe what they want to. When you encourage society to abandon truth for preference, eventually you find you’re not preferred anymore.” Nick’s eyes rolled
up to Sydney. “The Plurbs win.”
Chapter 46
Cael pulled himself up over the last lip of the hill, using a branch for a handhold. Pumping his chin at the Arab guard, he exhaled and brushed the dirt off his jumpsuit, turning to gaze at the distance he’d covered. Maybe a mile, but it had been rough forest. From this clearing he could see over the trees’ canopy to the four guard towers and the upper barb-wired walls. To the south a winding dirt road led into the hills, piercing green farmland for miles.
Still winded from his trek, he swung his rifle’s sling around his back and put his hands on his knees. He had to think through what to do next.
He had trusted this man. He supposed he had to, as the man had broken him out. In the chaos of the escape Cael had caught glimpses of him freeing other prisoners, ignoring the drone’s deadly aim – as if he knew what Cael knew. But who was he? And how had he known he was a Wolf?
“They’ll be cleaning up now. No witnesses,” the man said, as if reading his thoughts. “We have to keep going. Find transport.”
Cael nodded, letting the man lead the way down the other side of the steep hill toward the farmland below. His thoughts were too consuming to move.
Clean up? No witnesses?
He had a good idea of what the Arab meant, but there were dozens of witnesses leaving on military trucks and a bus. How would they clean that up?
A crack of a twig interrupted his thoughts. He swung his rifle around and aimed it at the crop of trees that had made the sound.
“D-don’t shoot! P-please!”
He rolled his eyes and lowered his gun. “Freaking girl.”
“Where else…” she began, breathing hard as she emerged from the trees, “…was I supposed to go?”
“Not here.”
“If I couldn’t get on the bus…or go to the hills…was I supposed to just stay in my cell?”
“Still could. It’s easier going down,” he said, pointing his gun barrel at the camp.
The girl was about to respond when she looked to the sky, her ears perked.
WOOOOOOOOSHHHH!
The missile struck like a bolt of lightning in the middle of the camp, leaving its smoke trail as a memory. The flash made Cael stumble backward. He grabbed a tree trunk and held on as the blast’s shockwave shook the forest.
Then came jaw-rattling rumbles, and they craned their necks to see fighter jets streak across the sky, high above. Three in formation. Cael watched as one broke away from the group, maybe a mile away, seeming paper-thin at this distance.
Its descent took it toward the meandering road cutting through the farmland. It dipped once and then returned to the sky, taking a path back toward its squadron.
Squinting hard, Cael saw bursts of fire rippling along the road, whipping up a line of dust to where the bus had been. Then, came the thunderous sound of the explosion.
He looked to the girl, but she was watching what he was.
“Was that the b…?”
“—yeah.”
She swallowed, her red eyes threatening to tear again. “All those people.”
“Yeah.”
“You saved my life.”
He propped the gun on his shoulder and turned.
“Did you know?”
He shrugged.
Frustrated, she churned up the hill toward him. “You a part of this?”
Just then, he heard the footsteps.
Sneaking footsteps.
The guard’s torso popped up over the hill, his brows thick and angry. His hands were wrestling with his gun strap, swinging it around front. His furious eyes were locked on the girl.
Cael’s eyes jumped from the guard to the girl and then back again. His breath caught in his throat as the girl screamed.
“No!”
BANGBANGBANG!
The shots echoed in the air, rang in his ears. Birds fluttered from the trees, chirping in fright and escaping below.
The guard toppled backward, disappearing down the slope.
And the girl hugged herself, cold in fear.
The last echo retreated in the distance, leaving them in silence.
There was a long moment where nothing was said. Cael was alone with his conscience. It fought with him as the gun felt heavier and heavier in his hands.
He lowered its weight, the image of the guard still playing in his eyes even as they closed. “I warned you,” he said at last, swinging the gun to his back. “I ain’t good.”
For a long minute he thought he had finally scared her off. He didn’t look at her; he worked on a new path down – one that avoided the dead man. The man he’d killed.
“What’s happening? Why’d you…? Who was…?” the girl asked from behind. “Why don’t you kill me?”
Cael blinked away his guilt, putting on a nonchalant tone. “Not sure.”
“It’s cuz you’re….you’re not bad. You just saved me…again. And you didn’t know that would happen. I saw your face. Don’t lie to me.”
He snorted, choosing his steps in the descent.
“Take me with you.”
“You don’t want to go where I’m goin’,” he said as his mind wandered to the quarry. He figured the whole ordeal had just been another test with full deniability. No one was supposed to live who could possibly divulge the secret. If that were true, would they accept him back?
It didn’t matter he supposed. He needed the antidote. He had to go back.
“I’m a fugitive,” she said. “Don’t got nowhere else to go.”
Neither do I.
-------------------------------
Orion watched the explosion in the drone’s infrared monitor alongside his father and the drone’s operator. After a few more circles, the destruction was confirmed. The whole camp. No survivors. Even the drone couldn’t survive.
“Trigger self-destruct.” The monitor went black and Emory nodded. “Excellent.” The row of operators applauded, taking off their earphones and celebrating.
“Did I say we were done?” Emory asked.
The operators put back their earphones, their celebrations ended.
“Ahmed celebrated too soon.”
The eyes of the room glanced where Ahmed had been hanged from a rafter and left as a warning.
“If it passes review, we’re a go for the rest.”
Orion smiled. He couldn’t wait to see the fireworks. Sure, there would be confusion among the ranks as to why they wiped out the FEMA camps rather than free the hostages, but his father’s reasoning was clear. It was for the greater good. Leaving no hostages left the government with no collateral, there’d be no snitches, and the government would appear as evil as ever. From the drone’s video that they would release to the press, it would appear that the facilities were overrun by jailbreaks and that the government decided containment was what mattered most.
Besides, they didn’t have the manpower for an actual nationwide jailbreak. Nearly every man would be needed to operate the drones. Still, they might not understand.
But they didn’t need to understand. They needed to obey.
“Orion, sir? Look at this.”
Orion leaned over the analyst’s monitor, glaring at the image zoomed and enhanced until it was as clear as if he had been there. And now he wished he had.
“Military drone. Dallas,” the man at the computer said. “Face identifiers are a near-perfect match. It’s your boy.”
A deep rumble vibrated through his throat, almost like a purr. “Did he survive?”
The man pulled up a video. On the screen, Greyson knelt right by the camera, his hands working on something underneath the drone’s camera. Then the video went black. “Malfunctioning drone caught this.”
“This was Ahmed’s drone,” Orion sneered.
“Affirmative. Should I tell Emory about the boy?”
Orion stood up, clenching his jaw. “You don’t think he’ll find out anyway? That wouldn’t end well for you.
”
The operator couldn’t help but glimpse at Ahmed.
“Do we know where he went?” Orion asked.
“No.”
“He might still be in Dallas?”
“He might.”
“Then get me a bird and men,” he ordered with a sneer, striding away.
“We don’t have many men. Nearly everyone has been assigned…”
Orion nearly pulled his weapon. But he had more patience than his father did. It was his flaw. “Then get me a bird and send men as you get them.”
“Roger. Just get out by Wednesday…”
Orion laughed.
Part IV
Chapter 47
Sometime in the future
The television buzzed inside the damp room as the boy’s interview continued.
“Emory let you go?”
“I think he was afraid Kip and the FBI would get suspicious and track me there. So he threatened me, sent Orion to watch me, and told me he would tell me where my father was if I didn’t mess up his plans.”
“Did you?”
He rubbed his grimy neck. “Not as much as I should have. I…I warned Sydney.”
“Your girlfriend?”
He kept rubbing his neck, avoiding eye contact with the questioner behind the camera. “Well…it’s complicated.”
There was a soft scoff off screen.
“But she warned Sam…the governor’s son. And we escaped.”
“How?”
The boy’s eyes reflected painful memories. “We fought. It – it was…violent.”
“Violent?”
“Yeah. Do you really need to know…?”
“No. We understand violence.”
Chapter 48
Four days later
Election Day
A storm was coming. Some forecasters were calling it a blizzard, but others were more cautious with their words. All agreed, though, that the snow that was falling would only get worse as the day wore on. Partly because of the incoming weather, polling stations had been busy all morning, especially in Colorado, one of the most significant “swing states” that could swing to any candidate.