by Kyle Andrews
There were massive reforms to the entire American system after the attacks. It was when the New American Constitution was written, creating rules for a new world. They eliminated the portions of the old Constitution that no longer worked in modern society, and added elements which the less enlightened founders of the country never would have thought of.
The more Libby thought about it, the more stupid she felt, having been conned so easily. 'Training wheels' were the words that her history teacher had used to describe the original Constitution. 'Childish.' 'Uncivilized.' These words were the first thoughts to enter her mind the second anyone mentioned the way things were. But Libby had never actually read a copy of that original document. She was raised on the revised edition. How could she have such an immediate reaction to something she had never seen?
Justin started walking again, and Libby started following. She still wasn't paying proper attention to where she was going or what she was doing. She kept her eyes on Justin's back. When he moved, she moved. It probably wasn't the smartest way to operate in her situation, but she couldn't keep her mind from wandering down dark and twisted paths.
Was it because she was off of her supplements? Was she thinking differently now because the fog was lifting? Was she seeing the world for the first time because the drugs were finally out of her system?
Probably not. Come to think of it, she'd gone longer without supplements in the past. What she was experiencing in that moment was simple awareness—or possibly brainwashing. She didn't know what to believe anymore.
When they neared the lower levels, where residents of the building had already been taken outside, Justin started to move a little bit slower and more carefully. Libby saw this and forced herself to pay more attention to what they were doing. The repetitive, boring part of their journey down the stairs was over. Now they needed to watch their backs or die.
Passing the fifth floor, Libby could hear movement in the hallway, just feet away from where she and Justin were walking. There was a small glass window which would let her to see the hallway, and allow anyone on the other side to see her. Justin directed her to duck low and move quickly past the door. She did as he said.
From that moment on, she felt as though there were people watching her from behind at all times. She looked over her shoulder once or twice. She never found anyone standing there, but that did not make the feeling go away. She was surrounded and she knew it. There were HAND officers above and below. If just one of them chose to walk the stairs and found her there, she would be dead.
Ammo's claws were clicking on the stairs as he went down, and he was panting so loudly that Libby was certain he would be heard by everyone in the building. For a moment, she thought that they should have left him behind with Marti's family, but what would have happened to him then? There wasn't supposed to be a dog in the building. That sort of thing wouldn't go unnoticed by people who saw him on the street, once they were pulled outside. Any attention drawn to Marti's family could get them and Ammo killed.
No, Libby decided that the dog needed to stay with her and Justin. If they were discovered, they would deal with it somehow. She wasn't about to turn her back on the one living creature that she trusted completely. People would probably think she was crazy for that, but she didn't care. The dog had no hidden agenda. No opinions on world politics. No hatred.
As they approached the third floor, she could hear voices on the other side of the door. There was a male HAND officer yelling to someone, “All clear in there, I'm going to move up.”
Libby saw the doorknob begin to turn. She stopped short. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She couldn't think of anything as specific as 'run' or 'fight.' All she could do was watch the doorknob.
There was a muffled yell from somewhere on the third floor, responding to that male officer. Libby couldn't hear what this other person was saying, but she saw that the knob was released.
“In the other one? Look harder,” the officer said, moving away from the door.
Justin looked back at Libby with wide eyes and quietly told her, “Move. Now.”
They hurried down the next level of stairs, toward the second floor, moving as quickly as they possibly could. There were no noises on the second floor, making Libby wonder if the search was already done there. She considered entering the floor and looking for an apartment to hide in until the search was over, but how could she be sure that there wasn't anyone there? She could walk right into Officers guarding the floor, or residents returning home after their apartments had been searched and cleared. Certainly, they couldn't move every resident onto the street at once. Or maybe they could. Libby really didn't know, and she wasn't sure how to begin thinking like those people.
Justin, on the other hand, was moving steadily. If he was considering other options, he didn't show any sign of it. For a guy who was normally so quiet and withdrawn, he now seemed confident in what he was doing. He moved past the doors and ducked beneath the windows as though he'd done it all a hundred times before.
As he passed the door which led to the lobby and turned to move on to the next set of stairs, Libby noticed Justin put a hand on his knife wound. She'd almost forgotten about Bey stabbing him. For that matter, she'd almost forgotten about Bey stabbing her. The throbbing was present and constant, but Libby hadn't had the time to dwell on it.
Now that she was paying attention to how Justin was behaving, Libby noticed that there was something other than the stab wound bothering him. He was sweating more than he should have been, and breathing a little bit harder than she was. There was no way that she was in better shape than Justin, so the stairs should have been no problem for him. She knew that he was keeping something from her. How much pain was he in? How sick was he really?
She had to keep those questions in the back of her mind as they hurried down the next level of stairs. Ammo reached the landing first and Justin made a clicking sound with his tongue that made the dog stop there.
Justin reached the door which had the words 'Parking Level 1' still written on a faded plaque by its side. Now the door had the word 'Storage' written on a piece of duct tape that was stuck to it. The door had a latch on it, which had most likely been added when the space was converted to storage. The latch was usually secured with a padlock, but that padlock was resting on the ground by the door. Justin paused when he saw it.
“They've been here already?” Libby asked, in a whisper.
Justin didn't answer. He took a moment to think about their situation and what they should do next, while Libby stood there and waited for him to tell her. She felt useless.
Ammo was sniffing the door as though there were something of great interest on the other side. He seemed very eager to get into the storage garage, for reasons that Libby couldn't understand.
After a moment of staring at Ammo and thinking to himself, Justin's eyes widened and he turned toward the stairs again.
“They have dogs,” he told her. “Go. Go. Go.”
He started pushing Libby back up the stairs, and she was more than willing to go, but she had to turn around first. The act nearly caused her to trip and fall, which would have been the perfect way to cap off her day.
Justin grabbed her arm and steadied her. They started to rush back up the stairs, but there was a commotion in the stairwell. People were walking down. Another floor was being called outside. There could have been hundreds of eyes, just waiting to spot Libby and Justin.
Justin moved back down the stairs, toward the door to the parking garage. There were stairs beyond that, but going deeper was not the answer. If HAND was searching one level of the garage, they'd be searching every level and securing any exits.
When they reached the landing, they ducked beneath the small window on the door that led to the storage garage. Justin pressed his back to the door, just in case someone tried to come through it. His being there wouldn't delay them for long if they tried to get through the door. If someone wanted to get into the stairwell, they would.
She looked to Justin for an answer and saw him staring at it, probably wondering the same thing. Save themselves now, or save themselves later?
Justin shook his head, telling her not to do it. He said, “Better if they don't know we're here.”
“Won't they find out eventually?” Libby replied.
He didn't have an answer for her. Instead, Justin looked toward the stairs that led upward and considered his options. After a moment, he moved toward them, waving to Libby to follow.
There were still people coming down from their apartments. Some kids were crying, while others laughed. At least one child was pretending to be a HAND officer, ordering people around and finding imaginary Hate members hiding out in the stairwell. Fortunately, he didn't find any of the real ones.
Justin waited and listened to the people above them while Libby kept looking back and forth between Justin and the door to the garage. She could feel HAND officers getting closer and closer by the second. It was only a matter of time before the door opened and they were discovered.
“New plan,” Justin whispered. “Follow me.”
Justin stood and started walking up the stairs. He reached the lobby door just as the last person walked through it, and he caught it before it slammed shut. Opening the door, Justin gestured for Libby to walk through. Right into the lobby. Right in front of dozens—possibly hundreds—of other people.
Ammo went first. Libby followed. Then Justin. The door slammed shut behind them and there they stood, just waiting to be seen.
39
Life within the safety of Marti's apartment had been simple. Libby had been removed from the chaos of the world. She didn't have to look people in the eye. She didn't have to run or worry about being seen. She wouldn't necessarily say that she was in the company of friends, but at least they weren't mortal enemies.
The stairwell was similar. Perhaps better in some ways, because Libby didn't believe that Justin would turn his back on her at any moment or sacrifice her for the greater good—whatever that was. She didn't have to watch her back with him.
And Ammo, of course, was Libby's new favorite person in the world.
If she could have stayed in the stairwell for a while longer, she would have. No windows. No news reports on the TV. If she couldn't see the outside world, she could pretend that it didn't exist.
But the outside world was less than cooperative. They needed to move out of the stairwell and into the lobby. In doing so, Libby found herself standing in a sea of people. They were gathered in some sort of organized line, but it all looked like a jumbled mess to her. People were pushing, shoving, stepping on each other, and trying to twist themselves into more comfortable positions. Most were watching the show up ahead, where HAND was pulling people out onto the street and scanning them for weapons.
Obviously, none of these people were Libby Jacobs or Collin Powers, so Libby couldn't see the sense in putting them all through this search, but she wasn't about to question the system. Not out loud anyway.
“Keep your head down. Most of the people won't recognize you, but HAND will. Don't look toward any of them,” Justin told her, putting his lips close to her ear and speaking softly, so that nobody else would hear him.
Libby nodded and looked toward the ground, following Justin toward the back of the crowd.
Kids were going crazy when they saw Ammo. They wanted to pet him and play with him. The dog was willing to accommodate them, but only as long as he could keep up with Justin.
“Ohhh,” sighed a blond woman who looked pale and fragile, but who had a smile on her face when she saw Ammo. “Cute puppy.”
She poked her redheaded best friend who was standing next to her and that woman smiled as well. Both of them could have been beautiful in another life. Now they looked worn down, tired and sick.
As they cooed at Ammo, Libby smiled politely and kept moving. She kept her eyes on Justin's back, making sure that she didn't lose track of him. If she lost Justin, she might as well give up the fight right now.
The people in the back of the crowd knew that they would be waiting for a while. Though most of them had probably just arrived in the lobby with the last wave, they were already showing signs of annoyance. A couple of the men were mumbling under their breath, about how they could have stayed upstairs a little while longer. A woman next to them told them to shut up before someone heard.
With so many people packed together, the lobby was hot and the smell was decidedly less than appealing. Soon, another floor would be called down and the lobby would become that much more packed.
HAND officers were visible through the windows and glass doors near the front of the lobby. Their vehicles were parked near the street. They had men standing all around the building, just in case someone decided to run.
This was a lot of trouble to go through for one person. Whether they wanted Libby or Collin Powers, it didn't make sense for them to be searching the entire city and everyone who lived there. There was nothing special about her, and yet everyone seemed to want her.
“Listen to me carefully!” called a female HAND officer at the front of the crowd. She was a tall woman, with harsh angles to her face and an imposing voice. “For those of you who just arrived down here, this is vital information!”
Libby was looking back at the officer, listening to her speak. Justin grabbed her arm and squeezed. When she looked at him, he gestured for her to keep her head down and not stare directly at the HAND officer.
She looked away, but both she and Justin stood still. They didn't want to risk drawing attention to themselves as the officer was speaking.
“When you reach the front of the line, you will give the HAND officers your Civvie. Once it is swiped and you are cleared to move forward, you will be scanned and searched for weapons. When you clear that check, you will immediately move to your left. You will go down the street and you will await further instructions. Children must be processed separately, so no you may not hold their hands. If you have any questions, you may ask them when you reach the front of the line.”
And that was it. No thanking the crowd for their patience, or apologizing for the inconvenience.
“Come on,” Justin said, moving once again.
When they reached the back of the line, they found themselves in a second lobby that mirrored the first. There was a wall of large glass windows and doors, looking out onto another street. Perhaps HAND could have set up another processing station on this side of the building, but they hadn't. Instead, there was one HAND vehicle parked on the street, and three officers watching the exit.
The thing that Libby noted about those three officers was that they weren't standing with their backs to the building, as one might expect if their goal were to keep people out, or watch for trouble on the street. Instead, they were standing near the curb, watching the building and anyone who might try to get out of it.
Libby and Justin stood at the back of the line, as though they were planning to hand over their Civvies and get scanned like everyone else. As they waited, Justin turned his back to the officers outside, but Libby could see him watching their reflection in a broken piece of glass, in the frame of an old and faded piece of lobby artwork. It was the same old HAND poster that she'd seen a hundred times before, with an officer watching over a sleeping child. It never seemed quite as creepy to her as it did in that moment.
Libby wasn't as calm and collected as Justin. She didn't have years of Freedom training under her belt. Then again, he didn't have HAND searching the entire city for him. He could walk away right then and there, and nobody would think twice about him.
That thought lingered in Libby's mind. She was thankful to have Justin by her side, but could she justify turning him into a fugitive, just so she wouldn't have to go thr
ough this alone? What if he was arrested? What if he was killed? Could she live with herself if anything happened to him?
The idea of walking away from him was not a pleasant one, but it was something that Libby had to consider. They were surrounded. The idea of getting out of that building and running to safety was never realistic. He was doing everything he could to save her, and in return she seemed to be doing everything in her power to get him into trouble.
Without thinking about it, Libby had turned toward the back exit. She was looking toward the street, imagining what it would be like to get out of that building and run for her life. Three HAND officers in the back of the building were better than dozens in the front. She thought about the chances of her making her way past them, but those chances weren't very good. Odds were, she would be caught in seconds, and they would throw her in the back of their vehicle, never to be seen or heard from again.
As noble as it might have been to let Justin out of this mess, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Even the thought of doing it all on her own made her heart beat faster and her palms sweat. She couldn't force herself to move alone, even if she wanted to.
“Lib,” Justin said under his breath, gently putting is hand on her shoulder, urging her to turn around.
His touch caused her knife wound to sting, and that pain reminded her of what awaited her if she was caught. That small wound was an annoyance by comparison. It was a fraction of what would be inflicted upon her if they decided that she was a member of Freedom.
And was she? By this point, Libby didn't even know where she fit in or what she believed. In deciding to hunt her down, the authorities might have taken away whatever say she had in the matter. At the moment, Freedom wasn't threatening to tie her down for reprogramming or interrogation, so they were more preferable by far.