by Simone Pond
A female newscaster speaks over the footage. “Today the stock market hit the bottom and crashed. All banking services are shut down. Food shipment truck drivers are on strike due to lack of payroll funds. Rioting has commenced in East L.A. and Compton. The fires and looting have gotten out of control. The Division of Internal Security Services, DISS, has been called in to contain the damage and manage rioting.”
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Men in black paramilitary suits drop out of helicopters right into the riots and start shooting people down in cold blood—even those who are trying to run for safety. Dead bodies of men, women, and children fill the sidewalks, and rivers of blood flow into the streets. The footage ends. I’m stunned and not sure what’s going on. That can’t really be part of the Repatterning. I always had a feeling it would be messed up, but people being gunned down in the streets is ludicrous. This is what my father has been concocting with the pig people? This can’t be right. It has to be a joke.
The screen flashes over to a man and woman on a plush white couch, sipping martinis. A title card comes up: “America 2.0 - Reality TV on Steroids.”
“So, Dan, what do you think about Day One?”
“Well, Barb, I have to say, quite impressive. I wasn’t expecting such high death counts.”
“I know!” Barb laughs and sips her martini. “This has been quite a surprise. Currently, the death toll in the Compton sector is 20,000 and counting.”
“That’s nearly twenty percent completion—all on Day One. If you can believe it.”
“And the funny thing, Dan, most people didn’t even suffer any losses in the stock market crash. They simply started rioting without any actual instigation.”
“Well, there’s always some instigating, Barb. After all—this is reality TV. We might as well be completely honest… The riots were started with a little help from our friends in high places.” Dan winks at the camera. Is this for real? I want to reach through the screen and choke this guy. I wonder if they’re airing this on regular networks or just for the elite jackholes down in the Subterranea. It’s sick.
“Well, you got me, Dan. It’s true, no riot starts without a little help. Our hero for today is none other than, Mr. Ryan L. Banks. He’s been around for decades. Cleaning up one street at a time.”
“You mean, torching down one street at a time, Barb.”
I don’t know what this is. My head is spinning. I have to turn down the volume so I can think straight. It has to be a hoax. There’s no way this is part of the Repatterning. Sure, power has gone to my father’s head, but this is diabolical.
“Hal,” I call out.
“Yes?”
“Dial my mother.” I watch scenes from other cities around the country where there’s more rioting and bodies piling up in the streets.
“Your mother has set her unit to do not disturb.”
I start limping around the room. I need to talk to someone before I lose my shit. Maybe the trainer girl. She was cool and helped me when nobody else would.
“Dial Dru.”
“I don’t recognize that name. Do you have a unit number?”
“She works here. She’s a trainer.”
“I’m sorry, but I need a unit number, or a last name.”
“Damn you, Hal. Send me a list of the staff members.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that, William. That information is proprietary. I’m unable to assist you. Might I suggest signing up for the 6:00 a.m. combat training class?”
“Fine. Sign me up.”
The monitor goes black like the program never happened. Maybe it didn’t. I could’ve fallen asleep watching The Maltese Falcon and had a nightmare. I need to take a shower to wash away what I just witnessed.
Chapter 6
The alarm chimes and I’m so comfortable and warm, listening to the sounds of waves, for a second I forget where I am. My head’s groggy and I’m not in the mood to get out of this sleep pod thing to start the day. I’m regretting my decision about signing up for combat training, but I want to talk to Dru about that America 2.0 insanity. We’ve only had that one conversation, but she seems cool and I trust her—which is a good thing, since she’s going to teach me to survive.
The Blue Line takes less than a minute to reach the training facility. I head toward the entrance and my throat tightens. I’m not sure I can do this. It’s not just about the intense training. Dru makes me nervous, in a weird good way. I turn around to leave when she steps out of a tram. I play it cool.
“Hi, William. I’m so happy you signed up!” She taps her access code onto the keypad and waits for the eye scan to complete. The door slides open and I remain still. “Are you coming in?” she asks.
“Yeah, I was, uh, just waiting to see if, uh, my friend was supposed to meet me.” I lie.
“Guess they slept in.”
She enters the facility and I follow behind, trying not to trip over my own feet. The last time I was this jumpy around a girl was at the Summer Solstice Ball when I asked Lane Dreyer for a dance. I had been obsessed with her for about a year and when she said yes, I was finally catching my break. We swayed back and forth to a slow song, until one of the guys from the academy shoved me and we toppled into a champagne tower. I took a few swings at the guy and broke his nose. She swore me off for life and made all her friends follow suit. I wonder where Lane and her lemmings are now. They’re probably tucked away in some lavish bunker-ville during these final phases of the Repatterning just like me.
“You okay?” says Dru.
“I’m good…” I stop walking and take in the massive facilities. I don’t know where to look first—the Olympic-sized pool, the Rocky Mountain wall, the X-game inspired skate ramps. “Are you kidding me?”
“Impressive, huh?” Dru smiles.
“It looks like an astronaut training facility or something.”
“We have that, too. You can actually simulate a flight into space. I can’t do it because I hurl every time. But Zach, you’ll meet him, is a pro. You should check it out.”
“That skate park is insane.”
“You’re a skater?”
“Yeah,” I say, lifting back my shoulders. “But I wanted to try out the combat training.”
“Smart choice. Zach’s a genius. After training with him you’ll be able to survive an apocalypse.” We both laugh and suddenly I remember why I’m really here. I want to ask her about the TV show last night. We walk toward a giant metal door and she punches in another code. The security in this place is tight. We enter a narrow hallway and there’s a red door at the end.
“The holodome is behind that door.”
“Holodome?”
“It’s a ginormous dome that runs all sorts of holographic training apps. Beyond any virtual you’ve ever used.”
“Sounds pretty cool.” I nod, waiting for the right moment to ask the next question. “So, did you happen to catch that show last night about the Repatterning? America 2.0?”
Before she can answer, her training partner, Zach, enters the hallway. He looks like a rugby player who moonlights as an underwear model. He pops a piece of gum into his mouth.
“I’m Zach. You must be William.” He extends his hand and almost crushes mine with his strong grip.
“How’d you know?”
“You’re the only one who signed up for the training.”
“Guess I get private lessons.” I sound like an idiot, but he laughs and pats my back.
“I think we’ll keep you in those clothes. In a real-life survivor scenario you’re not gonna have time to change or pack. You’d leave with what’s on your back and whatever you can grab on the way out the door.”
I’m nodding like I know what he’s talking about. Dru concentrates on her digi-pad, scrolling pages. “Got one!” She shows Zach the screen.
“Good choice,” he says.
“Are you guys going to prep me before we begin?”
“Here, drink this.” Zach hands me a bottle of neon red liquid. “
It’s an energy booster with a kick.”
I take a sip of the juice and almost choke on the stringent taste. “What’s in this?”
“Everything you need.”
“Can you give me an idea of what I’m getting into? I grew up in Bel Air. I’m not much of a survivalist.”
“That’s the point—this is where you’ll learn.” Zach heads toward the door at the far end of the hallway.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right next to you.” Dru slips her digital pad into her backpack and takes my hand. I don’t have a clue what I’m getting into, but I’m glad she’ll be with me. Zach opens the ominous red door and the three of us enter the holodome. It’s dark. I squeeze Dru’s hand, forgetting to act cool. I don’t like the dark. I always feel like something’s going to grab me—like those metal pincher things. My eyes start to adjust and I can see Zach’s shadowy figure. I let go of Dru’s hand just in case mine gets too sweaty. We keep waiting for something to happen, which makes me more fidgety. Cold sweat drips down my back. I hope I don’t have a panic attack. Deep breath in, release, another deep breath, release… This calming trick works anytime I take a bad tab.
“It takes a second to boot up,” says Dru.
The program starts up and pixels spark to life, trickling along the perimeter—the first thing to appear is a jagged cityscape and rows of dilapidated buildings. Walls shoot up around us and we’re standing in a high-rise office space with broken windows and furniture turned upside down. The busted up streets below are empty and there are fires burning everywhere. I hear a humming noise from somewhere that’s getting louder by the second. An explosion blasts throughout the room, shaking the foundation. I fall to the floor and shards of glass dig into my palms.
“I’m bleeding! I thought this was a virtual!” I try standing up, but another explosion hits and I fall back down. Zach pulls me up and drags me through a dark hallway. A missile zips overhead and hits a nearby building. Dru stays close behind, pushing me forward.
“We have to find the stairs. Get to the ground before the building collapses,” she yells.
“We can’t risk the stairs, we need to go out a window, shinny down the side of the building,” Zach yells back.
“Are you serious? Where the hell’s the off switch to this program?” I yell, picking out a chunk of glass from my throbbing hand and using my shirt to wipe off the blood.
“There’s a fire escape on the north side where they aren’t bombing yet.” Dru runs ahead.
I’m slogging behind, wondering if I’m hallucinating or if any of this is real. I touch the wall and it’s solid—it’s an actual wall. Dru turns left and we follow, jumping over fallen beams and chunks of debris. We’re almost at the window at the end of the hallway when a group of three burly men block our path. I have no idea where they came from. We stop and Zach steps up to them, while Dru rummages through her backpack for something. I’m feeling useless. I look around for something to use as a weapon. I grab a wooden beam from the ground and hold it up. Another explosion shakes the building and the floor behind us starts collapsing. If we don’t move, we’re going down with the building. I don’t want to die.
“Move it!” I yell at the men blocking our path.
The man with the black goatee laughs and the other two join in.
“If you don’t move, we’re all goin’ down,” shouts Zach.
“Either move, or die.” Dru pulls out a 9mm and starts shooting at the men. A gun? One man starts blasting his machine gun toward us. I duck and move out of the way. I don’t want to get shot to death, but I also don’t want to get buried under rubble. I look toward the window—we’re so close; if we could just maneuver around these guys, we might be able to save ourselves before the building falls. A burst of energy surges through me, and I taste adrenaline in my mouth, or maybe it’s blood.
“There’s a fire escape at the end of the hall—all of us can live.” I motion toward the window.
Just as they all turn around, I swing the beam, knocking out the guy holding the machine gun. Dru shoots the other guy in the head, and the third one runs back into the office. I snatch the machine gun from the floor and the three of us sprint down the hallway as the floor crumbles behind us. We make it to the window and climb outside to the fire escape. We’re at least fifty floors above ground and the building is swaying. We need to get down before the whole thing caves in.
“We have to ride it,” Zach shouts, gripping the railing of the fire escape. He climbs over the side. Dru scales the railing and motions for me to do the same. I grip the bar but my hands sting from the glass still wedged in my palms. Dru holds up the crook of her elbow and I lock my arm into hers. Before I can get my other arm wrapped into Zach’s, the building buckles and I slip off the side of the fire escape. I’m dangling in the air held only by Dru’s grip—she’s keeping me from falling fifty stories to the ground. Zach starts nudging me with his foot. Is he’s trying to knock me loose?
“What the hell are you doing?” I yell.
“Swing out and aim for the other building. You’re going in through the window.”
I look over my shoulder at the next building—there are windows, but they’re closed. I’ll have to bust through the glass. Dru’s losing her grip on the railing with me weighing her down. Zach grabs her wrist and now both Dru and I are hanging mid-air. The building sinks another few feet and I’m sure this will be our death, but Zach has managed to get enough momentum using our weight to thrust us toward the other building. He lets go of Dru’s wrist and we jet toward the building straight into a window. I go feet first, shattering through the glass, and pull Dru in with me. We roll into the hallway.
“You okay?” she asks, running back to the window.
“Fine. What about Zach?”
The building’s going down fast. He’s much lower down now. Dru throws a rope toward him. “Help me hold the rope!” she yells at me. I grab the rope—it burns my palms—but I fight through the pain. Zach’s suspended against the side of the building. We use all of our strength, pressing our feet against the wall to keep the rope tight. He’s able to pull himself up and climb through the window. Blood oozes from the gash above his brow. Dru hands him a rag.
“Is it over?” I ask.
“We still have to complete our mission.” Dru gets up.
“What mission? You didn’t say anything about a mission.”
“We have to get to the lab.” Zach tosses the bloody rag on the ground and spits out his gum.
“The lab?”
“It’s across town. Don’t worry, we’re driving.” Zach jogs down the hall with Dru at his heels. I follow behind in a clueless haze.
We get outside on the street and bombs blast overhead. We duck behind the parked cars, looking for one to hotwire. I try some of the car doors and find one that’s unlocked. “Got one,” I call out.
They crawl over and we get inside the half-burnt sedan. Dru sits in the driver’s seat and fiddles with the wires under the steering wheel, until the engine turns over.
“Keep the lights off and take the alleys,” Zach instructs. He puts on a pair of night vision goggles and scans the area. “We’ve got snipers on us. Stay low, William.”
I crouch on the floor in the back as Dru maneuvers through the alley. Lights flare and explosions erupt all around us. Bullets spray the car. Dru steps on the gas and zooms through the tight alley, scraping the car against the bricks. She pulls onto a main road and races down the street, going at least a hundred. We’re on Wilshire Boulevard. She skids left and races down Beverly Glen, speeding along the dark winding roads.
“Where are we going? I used to live around here,” I tell them.
“Yeah, we know,” says Zach.
I don’t know what’s more disturbing, being chased down by some unknown terrorist, or them knowing where I used to live. “How’d you know that?”
“Nothing happens by accident.” Zach points to a side street and Dru turns left.
“What does that mean? Is
this part of the training? Some sort of psychological mind trick?” My stomach is burning and I’m starting to hyperventilate. I want to jump out of the car, but we’re going too fast. Dru keeps turning down roads until we reach a dead end.
“It means you’re here for a reason.” Dru yanks the wires to turn off the engine.
“In the training program or the Subterranea?” I’m dizzy, like when I take a strong tab and the chemicals tornado through my bloodstream.
“Both.” She looks at me and we’re not playing a training game any more; she’s stone cold serious. Zach gets out and Dru follows. I remain in the car, holding my breath and counting. I close my eyes and think about the ocean—the waves, the sound of water—I think about Lane Dreyer at the Summer Solstice Ball and how she smelled like vanilla beans when we were dancing. Stay calm. I remember the way she smiled at me just before we tumbled into the champagne tower…
Dru opens my door. “Come on, William. We still have a mission to complete.”
“I don’t know what’s going on.”
“I know. Maybe we should’ve explained it to you before we just threw you into the program. Zach thought this would be better.” She helps me out. “I’m sorry.”
“There was no other way, except like this. Seeing is believing,” says Zach.
“Seeing what?”
“The Repatterning.” Zach adjusts his night vision goggles and heads into the woods.
“Come on.” Dru pulls me along. We’re in the same woods where I used to play when I was a kid. Zach takes out a map and studies it. I could tell him exactly where we are, but I don’t want to share any information until he does.
“Is this about that show last night? That was a hoax, right? Will one of you tell me what’s going on?”
Zach removes his goggles and looks at me. “The show was real. Dead on. The news report aired on the regular TV, but that horseshit that followed was the ‘entertainment’ portion. For the elites.”
“But they’re murdering people.”
“That’s what happens in a holocaust,” he says.