by Simone Pond
“What’s your plan?”
“It’s not complicated. Sam and Dan are still with us and they’re working with Dickson’s men. They’re handling the bodyguards, and I’m taking care of my father and the elites. It’s all happening during dinner. After tonight, it will all be done. Mission complete.” I stand next to her and hold her limp hand. “After they’re gone, we can start rebuilding.”
“It’ll be over soon,” she says, looking out the window in a daze.
I don’t like seeing her so depressed. I miss the old Dru—the fighter. I need to give her time to get strong again. “I’ll let you get some rest. I’ll check on you later.” I give her a quick hug and leave the room.
I go to the dining room to make any final preparations and to get my mind off of Dru. The table has been set to entertain the world’s most ostentatious guests. Gleaming white plates and sparkling silverware are mathematically positioned around the table. Heaping bouquets and elaborate candelabras of pure white candles add to the decor. My father’s empty chair sits at the head of the table. Soon his reign will be over.
“Nice work, Martha. Good to see tradition hasn’t been lost on the apocalypse.”
“You’d never know what’s under the table,” she says.
Duct taped under the table is a long row of wooden boxes. Inside each there’s a can of WD40 coated in rubber cement and a highly flammable liquid goop to set off the bomb. All I have to do is fire an incendiary round into one of the boxes, setting into motion a chain of explosions that will obliterate the entire room and everyone in it. Anyone I miss, Sam will clean up.
“Shame it’s all going to waste.” I pat Martha’s hunched shoulders.
“I can’t wait to see this table go.”
“Just make sure you and the servants aren’t anywhere near this room.”
Sam enters the dining room. “You ready to do this?”
“Yep.” I tell him.
“You’ll only get one shot,” he says.
I look down the hallway toward the circular stained-glass window from where I’ll be shooting. “Just make sure you get their guards and I’ll get the shot.”
“You think you got enough to do the job?” he asks, scoping out the boxes under the table.
Old Martha waves her hand and shuffles toward the kitchen. “Come, come.”
We’re at the back entrance. She points toward the pond at the far end of the garden, then motions toward the rifle hanging near the door. I take down the Ruger and focus through the scope toward the statue of a girl pouring water into the fountain. There’s a wooden box at the base of the statue. Old Martha nods and I fire. The bullet hits the box, causing a thundering explosion that blasts the statue into flying chunks throughout the garden. That’s from one box. We have ten daisy-chained under the table.
“Looks like we’re good to go,” says Sam.
On the way to my suite, I check in on Dru. She’s still at the window, sitting in one of the chairs. I sit down across from her and she half smiles from somewhere far away. The silence is awkward.
“Don’t worry about tonight. This wing will be fine,” I say.
I explain that the explosion will destroy a good chunk of the east side of the house, making it unlivable. But we’re not planning on sticking around too much longer after tomorrow anyway. I’m hoping we can relocate to a place that doesn’t conjure up horrible memories for both of us. As much as I want to live by the ocean, I think our best move will be closer to the center. We’ll need to help people get relocated and situated. Dickson thinks we should move into the center, but it would take a cataclysmic change of heart for me to live inside that thing.
“I need to set up my post on the roof and get mentally prepared. If you need me, let Dickson know.”
“I know you can pull this off.”
“But remember after it’s over and they’re gone, I’ll need your help putting things back together. Okay?”
She stares off. “You don’t need me.”
“That bullet must’ve gone deep because you sound nuts. I need you more than ever.”
“Just focus on getting rid of your father for now, we’ll deal with the rest later.
I take the elevator to the roof and set up my sniper’s nest. I complete a few runs, rappelling down to my position at the window, lowering to the ground and climbing back up. I was able to remove a small section of the stained-glass window—nothing anyone would notice—so I have a clear view to the dining room. I feel confident about the logistics of the operation. I just need to keep my emotions out of the mix.
From the roof, I can see a bunch of smoke stacks billowing from random neighborhoods. The air is thick with ash and smoke. I think about my old face mask—the one I used to wear on Spray Days. I think about Bo Jay playing his guitar. I wonder where he is now. Hopefully somewhere sunny and warm, drinking orange Shatas. Seems like a million years ago. Now there’s nothing left except blackened streets and burned up neighborhoods. I look over toward the enormous City Center sitting at the foothills in the east—The World’s First Solar City… Sustainable Luxury… The Finest in Eco-Friendly Living… That monstrosity represents every lie they sold us. They portrayed an illusion of a better future and then ripped it out from under us. The millions of lives they took—all for their own greater good. If I don’t stop them tonight, there will be nothing left except the world they create and their new and improved super humans.
*
Helicopters buzz overhead—they’re beginning to arrive. My plan is to wait in my room until the last person lands, then head up to my post on the roof. The clock on my desk says 5:45 p.m. Dru enters my room and sits on the bed. She’s the only girl I’ve ever had in here. I want to tell her this, but I don’t. I wish this moment could be any other time than right now.
“What are you doing up?” I ask.
“I thought I’d say good luck.”
“It’ll be over soon, Dru. Just hang in there with me.”
“I’ve never doubted you for a second, William.”
“You’ve given me the strength to do this.” I lean over and kiss her, my head starts spinning. I should be focusing on the mission instead of distracting myself, but I can’t resist an opportunity to be with Dru.
She pulls away. “You better go. It’s time to finish this mission.”
I grab my bag of gear and leave the room without looking back. This could be the last time I see Dru, but I don’t want to commemorate it. I take the back stairs up to the roof and wait until the last helicopter takes off before I head over to my sniper’s nest. I set up my rope system and keep a close eye on my watch, waiting for Sam’s signal: a flare. The minutes drag and my heart is thumping so loudly I’m sure someone will hear it. This is the moment I’ve been training for. This is it. The flare goes up and I climb over the side of the roof and shinny down to my position by the stained glass window and wait for the second flare to signal. That’s when I’ll know Sam and his men have taken care of the elites’ security guards.
The men, all dressed for dinner, start to gather around the table and move to their assigned seats. It’s almost as if I’m a little kid again, spying on one of their private discussions. At the helm of the table is my father. He’s wearing the same black-framed glasses he’s worn my whole life and his hair is completely white. Though the Repatterning has taken its toll on him, he’s still the most powerful-looking man in the room. His condescending behavior is palpable even from where I’m positioned outside. For a brief moment I take aim at his chest. I have a clean shot straight to his heart—if the man even has one. I’d love to pick him off right now, but I can’t compromise this mission because of my hatred for him. I have to stay focused and hit that first box. It’s a simple task. I can’t let my emotions complicate it. Sweat drips down my forehead as I wait for the second flare to come, but it doesn’t. My rope releases and I pummel to the ground. Someone from above has cut it. Something is wrong.
I run around the side of the house to see what’s
going on with Sam and his men. Bullets whiz by my head and I duck behind a tree. What the hell is going on? One of the men who was playing cards with Dan just yesterday crosses the lawn and fires rounds toward me. We’ve been set up. I scan the area for Sam, but all I can see are Dickson’s men and the elites’ security guards darting behind fountains and bushes. Everyone is firing in different directions and I don’t know who’s on my side. Another bullet flies by my ear. It came from the sniper on the roof, the one who cut my rope. Dru’s in the house alone and unprotected. I have to get to her, but the distance from this tree to the kitchen door is wide open, I won’t have any cover.
“Do it, Morray. I’ve got your back.” It’s Sam; he’s perched in the branches above.
I nod and cut across the lawn, bullets coming at me from all directions. Sam’s firing back and clipping some of the men shooting at me. I need to get to that kitchen door and up to Dru. I’m a few feet away when I hear the explosion. I glance over my shoulder and Sam’s tree is in flames. He’s gone. I bust through the door and into the kitchen toward the back stairs. That’s when I see him: my father.
“Hello, son.”
He has Dru by his side and a gun pressed into her back.
“Let her go. I’ll tell my men to back down. Just let her go.”
“You should know better than to challenge me, son.”
“Just kill him, William. That’s what you came to do,” Dru yells out.
I aim my rifle at his chest to shoot, but if I fire he’ll kill Dru. I can’t lose her.
He laughs. “You don’t have it in you, son.”
“I’d like you to stop calling me that.”
“You can try to run from the truth, but my blood is in you. Sadly, you’ve always been a sorry excuse for a son.”
My entire life I’ve wanted nothing more than his approval. I escaped Denver, almost died in Vegas and again in Santa Barbara—I’ve proven myself worthy. But in his eyes, I never will be. To him, I’m nothing. I will never win his approval. My struggle to win him over ends right here—in this moment. I walk toward him. He digs the gun deeper into Dru’s back. I’m hoping that if he does shoot her, Dickson can save her. It’s a risk I’m willing to take to finish this mission and put an end to my father’s reign.
I stand in front of him, glaring into his cold gray eyes. I shove my rifle against his chest. “And you’ve always been a sorry excuse for a father.” He grins and I glance at Dru; she yanks herself away just as I pull the trigger before he has time to react. The bullet bursts through his ribcage and he falls back against the counters, clutching his chest in shock.
“Dickson!” he blurts out. “Help me!”
“It’s too late.” I fire off a couple more shots with my Glock and watch him bleed out on the kitchen floor. The vice-grip around my heart releases and I can breathe again. The most difficult part of the mission is complete. I feel no remorse or regret. A wave of relief moves through me. I turn to see if Dru is okay, but she’s gone.
“William, can you please join us?” a voice calls out from the dining room. I know that haughty voice; it’s the pig-faced cigar-smoker who sat by my father’s right side all those years. The one who tortured Dru when she was just a little girl.
I walk into the dining room. All the men are gone and it’s just my father’s right-hand man, Pigface, a few of his security guards, and Dru. I don’t understand why Dru’s sitting next to Pigface. He stands up and strolls over, puffing on a cigar and holding a snifter of cognac. I gag from the cloud of cologne permeating the air. I remember Dru’s story and what he did to her, and it takes every last bit of self-control not to pummel him to the floor. He holds the cigar between his fat lips and extends his pudgy hand. “William, you’re looking fine, son. You’ve grown into quite suitable young man.”
“This bullshit New Agenda ends today. It’s over, Pigface.”
“No, no. You see, William, you just removed the weak link that was jeopardizing our plan. It’s only just beginning, son.” He still has his hand extended.
I grab his hand and pull him close to me and crack the side of his head with the butt of my gun. His security guard rushes over and shoves me against the wall, pressing a 9mm into my throat.
“No need for that, stand down.” Pigface wipes the blood off with a handkerchief and sits down next to Dru. After the guard takes my pistol, he motions for me to sit down.
I take a seat at the far end of the table. “What the hell is going on?” I look at Dru, whose eyes are glazed over.
“You completed the mission, William. You did good.” She smiles.
“Yeah, but there’s still work to be done. Starting with this bastard.”
“There will be no more killing,” she says. “Everything went according to plan. We needed your father to be removed. He was out of control. You tied up that loose end.” Dru looks at me as if everything is totally normal. My throat is closing up and I can’t string together what’s happening here. She just said “we” as if she’s working for Pigface.
“Dru, what’s going on? I thought we were going to take down the elites and be together. To salvage what’s left and rebuild. You love me.”
“No, William, I told you what you needed to hear to get the job done. And now it’s done.”
“She’s a good little girl, isn’t she?” Pigface strokes her cheek and she stares off into some faraway place.
My blood starts boiling and I want to kill them both. “You lying bitch! You used me!” I yell.
“We all use each other,” she says.
“I don’t understand. You betrayed all of us. And for this asshole?”
“We’re all working for someone, William.”
How can she be so callous? She’s worse than my father. At least he was upfront about his motives. Dru played me.
“No way. I’m not working for anyone. Especially these elitist pigs,” I yell across the table, trying to get some reaction out of her. She’s motionless and her eyes are frozen like she’s under a spell. I don’t know if Pigface has her under some sort of mind control, or if she’s just so damaged she’s doesn’t care who she hurts.
Pigface stands up and walks closer to me. “That’s where you’re wrong, William. We own you. Just like we own everyone else in the world—at least whoever’s left.” He motions to the security guard who steps behind Dru and shoots a bullet into the back of her head. Blood and brain matter splatter across the white table linens as Dru slumps forward. I jump back. This bastard is insane.
“Oh, don’t worry, William. I’m not going to take your life. I’d like to, but unfortunately I’m in a bit of a predicament.”
“What the hell do you want?”
“Seems as though you’ve won over our dear Dickson. He’s threatening to destroy the research and put an end to the New Agenda. Says the only way he’ll fulfill his contract is if we let you live.” Pigface puffs on his cigar.
“Sounds like he’s got you by the balls.”
“Unfortunately, this affects our original plan, but we can be flexible.”
“Isn’t that thoughtful.”
“To ensure that keeping you alive doesn’t cause future snags in the agenda, we have some insurance. Something we never had when your father was running the show.”
The door opens and two thugs enter the room, dragging in Sarah. She’s so sickly and pale I wonder if she’s still pregnant. I don’t know how she could be. She’s sobbing.
“Sarah…” I run over and pull her away from the men and hold her as tight as I can.
“I don’t know how they found me,” she cries.
“I’m glad you’re here. Are you still…”
“Why do you think she’s here, son?” Pigface comes over to us. “Your unborn child is our insurance.”
“What are you talking about?” I’m grinding my jaw to keep from saying anything stupid. I’d love to knock him to the ground and ram that cigar down his windpipe until he chokes out his last breath.
“Let me summarize to ma
ke sure we’re all on the same page.” He pauses and blows a stream of smoke toward us. “If Dickson continues working on our project and you stay out of our hair, we’ll allow you and your child to live.”
The words stab my heart. They’re using my child as leverage. Images flash across my mind and I see our child being born, crawling, walking and climbing into my arms to hug me. Originally the only thing I wanted was to destroy these bastards and the New Agenda. But it’s different now. Now all I want is to protect Sarah and our child. Sarah squeezes my hand; her brown eyes bore into me and behind the sadness I see a shred of hope. She’s no longer angry with me. Maybe I can’t make things right with the entire world, but I can make things right with Sarah. I can be a father to our child—the opposite of how my father was with me.
We’re at a stalemate. I’ll agree with them for now, but this isn’t over.
“Fine,” I say.
Pigface squints his beady eyes and nods. He heads toward the door. His security guards follow. He turns around before he exits. “And, William, if you’re thinking about breaking our agreement in the future, I assure you, it won’t be a pretty ending for you or your child.”
After they’re gone I hold Sarah. “I’m sorry they involved you. We were so close to ending this bullshit.”
“It’s better for the baby that I’m here. I’m not well. Lillian’s done all she can for me, but this pregnancy is taking a toll.”
“You’ll stay here with me. I’ll help you get better.”
“Oh, Dru.” She glances at the table.
“I’ll get Dickson to clean up this mess.”
*
I wake up to the caw of a seagull. I scan the desolate beach. The bare sand stretches on and on. There’s a brownish haze hanging in the sky from the ongoing fires. I came here to clear my head. The morning air is brisk and I’m shivering, but I don’t feel anything. It’s just the ocean and me—nobody around to get in the way. The ocean keeps doing what it does. One wave moves in, another follows. The truth has settled into my bones. My father is dead. Dru betrayed me. And the elites are still in control. Sarah’s carrying my child so I need to do everything in my power to protect her from the elites. It’s time to return home and face reality.