Freedom/Hate (Freedom/Hate Series, Book 1)

by Kyle Andrews

  “So, the plan was to build up our resources? Is that why you joined?”

  “I joined because I wanted to see something happen,” she told him, looking down at her drink. She didn't seem any happier than he was in that moment. “I forgot the milk.”

  Sophia stood from the table and walked to the refrigerator. She pulled out a container of milk and smelled its contents. After letting out a sigh, she walked back to the table and poured it on her cereal.

  “I signed up for rebellion,” Collin said. “I wanted to be a part of a revolution.”

  Sophia chuckled and said, “Yeah. But after a while you have to realize that we don't have what it takes to wage a war. All we can do is get by and wait.”

  “Wait for what?”

  “For our moment to act.”

  “You've been waiting decades. How do you know you didn't miss the moment?”

  Sophia stirred her cereal and took a mouthful. She didn't answer.

  Collin was about to start pushing. He could feel himself preparing to raise his voice at her, but yelling at Sophia wasn't going to accomplish anything. Maybe her generation was to blame for not doing something more useful, but it wasn't like his generation was doing any better.

  Reeling in his frustration, he calmly said, “I've been watching the news. I keep seeing messages painted on walls, but they're not our message. I keep seeing buildings blown up and windows smashed. We're getting credit for all of those things, but we're not actually doing any of it. Then I ask myself, why aren't we?”

  “Because we're not the terrorists that they make us out to be. We can't go around blowing up buildings.”

  “Not the buildings that they keep showing on the news, but why aren't we taking out their propaganda machine? Why aren't we targeting their HAND offices? Or taking down broadcasting antennas? Why aren't we doing something?”

  Sophia nodded toward the TV and Collin turned around, just in time to see Uly Jacobs being gunned down once again. He got the message. They were stronger than Freedom. They had influence and power. He turned back to Sophia and said, “What did he die for? What was the point?”

  Sophia opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. Finally, she shook her head and shrugged. She didn't have an answer for him.

  A high-pitched tone filled the room. It came from the TV and lasted several seconds. It was the emergency news signal, and it drew Collin and Sophia's attention back to the TV as soon as they heard it. After all, they'd been trained to listen.

  After the tone ended, the screen cut to the news desk. A male reporter was looking into the camera and said, “Breaking news is just coming into the station. We've received word that Mayor Northfolk is about to speak on the topic of recent Hate activity in the city. His office has not released his speech to the press, so we don't have the exact details on what he is going to say, but we—Okay. Mayor Northfolk is taking to the podium now. We're taking you live to City Hall...”

  The image cut to the Mayor's office in City Hall, where Mayor Northfolk was sitting at his desk. Behind him stood two senior HAND officials, in uniform.

  “Good morning,” Northfolk started. “Last night, the terrorist group who calls themselves 'Hate' intercepted the transport of a valuable witness to recent violence, and murdered a retired HAND officer who has been serving on the city's police force in recent years. This attack was a brutal reminder of the sort of hateful and vicious group that we are dealing with in our city. They are a cancerous tumor in our society and it is my job to ensure that this cancer is removed.”

  Collin was hanging on every word that came from Northfolk's mouth. The man had an uneven personality. At times, he appeared calm and perfectly collected. But he could change in a heartbeat, dropping some insane bomb into the middle of his speech. Most people thought of him as dramatic or eccentric. Collin viewed the man as a wild animal, caged only by those who outranked him in the state and federal governments. This man wasn't just after power. He wasn't simply a smooth talking politician. There was something uglier, just beneath the surface—something maniacal.

  The Mayor went on, “This morning, after a long conversation with Governor Garrison's office, it was determined that we cannot sit idly by and allow groups such as Hate to roam our streets any longer.”

  The Mayor looked down at his desk, to a stack of papers. He flipped through those papers and pulled out a photograph. It was a picture of Collin.

  Collin could hear Sophia gasp as the camera zoomed in on Collin's picture.

  The Mayor continued, “Collin Powers. You know his face and you know that we have been searching for him for several days now. We have reason to believe that Powers has been cut off from his sect. He is alone; cut off from his people and any hope of support. We will not allow him to return to his home. We will catch him, and we will make him tell us where his people are.

  “The Governor and I have decided that drastic action must be taken to capture Collin Powers. That is why we have declared a lockdown of the city. Effective immediately, and until further notice, citizens are ordered to obey curfew regulations round the clock. You are free to move about your buildings, but the streets are to remain clear.

  “HAND officers will be performing door to door searches of each home until we find the fugitive. Anyone harboring this terrorist will be subject to equal punishment.”

  The image on the screen pulled back and Northfolk put the picture back down on his desk. He looked into the camera and said, “The days of Hate are limited. Collin Powers... we are coming for you.”

  The Mayor looked into the camera as though he were looking directly into Collin's eyes. His stare was cold. His expression was hard as a rock.

  When the image on the screen cut back to the news studio, Sophia stood from the table and walked to the window. She looked outside and said, “They're already scurrying back to their homes.”

  “Fabricated news travels fast.”

  Sophia turned to Collin and took a few steps toward him. When she spoke, Collin could hear the fear in her voice. She said, “They're coming. I don't know how to stop them. We have to hide you. We can't leave a trace.”

  Collin didn't respond to her. He held his eyes on the TV screen, though he wasn't listening to the news report anymore.

  “Collin!” Sophia yelled as loudly as a whisper would allow. “I don't know if you realize this or not, but the entire state government has just declared war on you personally. They're coming for you.”

  He turned toward Sophia now and looked her in the eye. She was panicking. He could see her shaking, waiting for him to say something to her.

  After careful consideration of the matter, Collin nodded and said, “I can work with that.”

  32

  It was early when Libby opened her eyes. Much to her dismay, the previous day was not just a horrible dream. Her arm, though cleaned and bandaged, still hurt. She was still sleeping on the couch in Marti's apartment.

  Of all the places that she could have found herself, this was probably the most unexpected. Her entire life now depended on the kindness of a girl that she'd never particularly liked. That fact did not inspire a great deal of comfort in Libby's heart, but what choice did she have?

  Libby didn't move when she first opened her eyes. She remained as still as possible, holding onto the peace and quiet of the morning. Nobody else was awake yet. Marti and her parents were in their own rooms. Justin had started out sleeping in one of the nearby chairs, but he had moved to the floor at some point during the night.

  She watched him sleep and she wondered who this person really was. She'd known him for as long as she could remember, but she'd always thought of him as the meek little friend. He was usually quiet and often seemed lost in his own thoughts. But she had seen him kill a man. Justin had anger in him. He had hatred. He didn't seem to think twice about killing Bey, so what did that make him?

  The news would call him a murderer and a terrorist. But then, they had said the same thing about Uly. Try as she might, Libby co
uldn't bring herself to think of Uly as the person that the news reports made him out to be. He wasn't the person she thought she knew either, but he wasn't the monster on the TV.

  Justin was a killer, but he'd killed Bey to protect Libby. She couldn't act as though she were horrified by his actions either, considering how Bey had turned on her. Bey was a liar. He betrayed her. He betrayed Sim.

  Or did he? Maybe Sim knew what was going to happen all along. Maybe they—whoever they were—told Sim to call Bey if Libby happened to show up at his apartment.

  She had to reject the notion as soon as it came to her. She loved Sim. He loved her too—he even said so. She refused to believe that it was all a lie, but once the idea occurred to her she couldn't get it out of her mind. She was suddenly supposed to trust the people that she always trusted the least, and not trust the people that she'd always trusted the most. Up was down. Black was white. All she knew for sure was that her arm hurt and she was tired of life in general.

  Libby pulled her blanket up around her neck and decided to try to go back to sleep. If she could doze off, she wouldn't have to deal with any of this mess. She could just pretend that none of it was real. She could let someone else take care of it.

  As she turned over on the couch, Libby found herself staring at a dog tail. Somehow, the dog had climbed onto the back of the couch and was sound asleep there, with its backside resting about a foot away from her head. This massive beast of a dog, who she thought was hunting her down not twelve hours earlier, was sleeping above her like a little kitty cat.

  The dog hadn't left Libby's side since they arrived at the apartment. She had no real connection to him and he had no reason to be loyal to her, but his presence comforted her. It was easier for her to connect with the dog than it was with any person.

  As a sign of her appreciation, Libby reached up and ran her hand over the dog's back. She tried to keep her touch as light as possible, but the dog awoke as soon as she put her hand on him, and turned his head to look at her.

  Then the dog climbed off of the back of the couch and walked across Libby's body before slumping down right on top of her. He put his head down with his nose nearly touching hers. He was heavy. He was breathing her air, and yet Libby couldn't keep herself from smiling.

  That's when he licked her right across the mouth and Justin started laughing.

  Libby pushed the dog's face away from hers. He rested his head on her shoulder, falling back asleep while Libby wiped the dog slobber off of her mouth. She turned to Justin. The smile on her face was gone, but his still lingered.

  “He does that,” Justin told her.

  “Might be a sign of poor training,” Libby replied.

  “He's the best dog in the world. Why would I want to change that by training him?”

  “Does he have a name?”

  “Ammo.”

  “Ammo? Doesn't that sound a little... hostile?”

  “I didn't name him. I got him when he was about a year old.”

  “He doesn't belong to your building?”

  Justin smiled and said, “He's never seen my building. I keep him... He stays at my other home.”

  “Your Freedom home?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where's that?”

  Justin was silent. He smiled politely, but he didn't say a word to her. Libby took the hint and said, “Never mind. Forget I asked.”

  “It's not that I don't trust you.”

  “Do you?”

  There was only silence. This time it seemed like Justin was as surprised by it as she was.

  “Forget it,” Libby told him. “It's fine. I wouldn't trust me either.”

  “It's not like that.”

  “Not like what?”

  “I want to trust you.”

  This time, Libby smiled. She turned her attention away from Justin and looked at Ammo as she said, “The funny thing is, I don't trust you either. You know someone your entire life and somewhere along the way... But I guess I never really knew you anyway, right? Never knew Uly. Never knew anyone. So I don't blame you for not trusting me. I'd probably think you were a liar if you said you did.”

  Justin sat up and leaned his back against a chair as he asked her, “Do you remember when we were kids, playing in that old abandoned building?”

  “It was falling apart. You were scared that we'd get hurt.”

  Justin raised a finger and said, “I was cautious. There's a difference.”

  “I know there's a difference. You were scared,” Libby joked.

  “Fine. A little. But I was right, wasn't I? I almost didn't see that missing stair and I would have broken my neck if I fell. But you grabbed my arm and stopped me.”

  “And called you an idiot for not watching where you were going.”

  “Yeah, well I didn't always watch where I was going back then. I was too busy...” he trailed off and seemed to grow uncomfortable for a moment. Then he straightened up and told her, “I trusted you then.”

  Libby nodded and said, “Then we grew up. Things change.”

  “Things change,” Justin agreed.

  Marti's bedroom door opened and she hurried out, into the living room. She looked panicked, which caused Justin to get to his feet. Libby would have jumped up too, but she had to crawl out from under Ammo before she could get up.

  “What's wrong?” Justin asked Marti, who was looking around the room, from table to table.

  When Marti found the TV remote and pressed the power button, she said, “I was listening to the radio. Things just got worse.”

  “How much worse?” Justin asked.

  On the TV, a news anchor was looking directly into the camera and saying, “—dered in a building late last night. The victim, identified as former HAND officer and current police officer, Bey Randall, was reportedly stabbed to death after enduring a brutal attack at the hands of Hate.

  “Randall, who is reported to have been accompanying the cousin of Ulysses Jacobs, apparently put himself between the group of attackers and their intended target, Libby Jacobs. Ms. Jacobs is in HAND custody now and is not being considered or treated as a suspect.”

  Libby was relieved to see that there was no picture of her being broadcast along with the report. It was not the reaction that she would have expected to have at that moment, but her mind was still waking up. Wrapping her brain around any of the more complicated elements of that report would be difficult.

  “In custody?” Justin asked, apparently more awake than she was. “What are they talking about?”

  “Wait. Listen,” Marti ordered, holding up a hand.

  The anchor went on to say, “The Mayor announced earlier this morning that, after discussions with the Governor's office, he has decided to place the city on lockdown. Residents are instructed to stay in their buildings until further notice, while authorities conduct a door-to-door search for the fugitive, Collin Powers.

  “Powers, who has been on the run for several days now, is being viewed as a symbol by the Mayor's office. His capture will signify the renewed resolve that authorities have toward ridding our state of the terrorist threat.”

  Marti muted the TV and turned to face Justin. She said, “They're lying.”

  “Why?” he asked her.

  “Because they're not looking for Collin Powers. Not really,” came the voice of Marti's father, who was standing in the doorway of the other bedroom, along with Marti's mother.

  Libby hadn't realized that they were standing there. She turned to look at him, and found his eyes already locked on her.

  “They're looking for me,” she said, in a quiet tone.

  “But why lie about it?” Justin asked him

  Marti's father—whose name she had never even learned—shook his head. In as dire a tone as she had ever heard, he answered, “They don't want the rest of the world to know it.”

  This time, Justin asked the question, “Why?”

  “Because they plan to kill me, just like they killed Uly,” Libby answered, still loo
king at Marti's father. “Only, they want to keep it quiet this time.”

  33

  “'I can work with that'?” Sophia said, throwing Collin's words back in his face. She had her eyes closed and her hands raised, as though she couldn't even believe what she was hearing.

  Collin's mind was racing. His heart was pounding in his chest, because for the first time since he reached Sophia's house, he didn't feel like a prisoner anymore. He wanted to walk to the window and look outside, but he stopped himself.

  Turning to Sophia, he said, “I can't stay here.”

  “You can't leave.”

  “I have to. If they find me here with you, they'll take you. I can't let that happen.”

  “And I can't let them take you. We have to find somewhere for you to hide. The crawl space, or... I don't know. But we'll find somewhere.”

  “No,” Collin told her.

  He walked to her and put his hands on her shoulders, so that she could look in his eyes and see his conviction as he said, “This is it. This is the moment when I can do something to help our people. I mean, really help them. There are TV cameras all over the place, because they want to see me dragged out into the street. They want the citizens to know that the same thing will happen to them if they dare to rebel. Every station will show the footage of my arrest. Every person in this state—maybe even the country—will see it play out in front of them.”

  Sophia shook her head, “And what will that accomplish? We've seen it all before and things didn't change, Collin. We've seen people arrested. We've seen them killed on live TV. Uly Jacobs was murdered right in front of everyone, and nobody cared. The bastards cheered.”

  “Because he allowed them to spin his death. He gave them the rope to hang him. I'm talking about something else. You said it yourself. If we had the ability to spin the news the way they spin the news, we could spark a fire in the minds of the citizens. We could burn this entire system to the ground.”

  “At what cost? Your life?”

  “It's worth it.”

  “No, it's not. I'm tired of people dying for this cause.”