Citizen Second Class- Apocalypse Next

by Robert Chazz Chute

  Brody nodded. “That will take some time, Captain.”

  “Then you better start now.” Evelyn turned back to me. “What have you done, Kismet?”

  “Surprisingly little,” I admitted. “Something of this magnitude takes the work of many people working cooperatively to achieve a goal that will benefit the most people.”

  “A socialist’s dream of terrorism.”

  “Mm … no. Military precision.”

  I thought she would hit me again. Instead, she stepped so close, she breathed on my face. “I should never have allowed you to weasel your way into our lives.”

  “What makes it worse for you? That the Circle is about to be invaded or that it’s happening on your watch?”

  “Captain!” Brody called.

  “News already?”

  “Not exactly, but something odd outside Gate 12. Check the street feed from Old Atlanta, ma’am.”

  Evelyn whirled to take in the screens as Brody punched up more surveillance feeds of the streets beyond the wall. On most of the screens, people of Old Atlanta shuffled down the middle of the street. Outside Gate 12, the crowds kept to the sides of the street.

  “What are they up to?” Evelyn asked.

  “I don’t know, Captain,” Brody replied nervously, “but every gate is open now. The rabble is still on the outside, as if they’re waiting for something. The parrots are skirmishing but we don’t have enough of them to defend every gate equally.”

  Evelyn, pale and shaking with rage, asked me what was coming.

  “This is interesting, isn’t it?” I said.

  Baker tightened his grip and shook me by the hair. “Talk!”

  “You know your Bible, Evelyn,” I said. “Job is a fascinating story of pain and reward. One detail that always struck me was that when Job gets the bad news of all he has lost, one messenger arrives with the bad news, and then another and another, all talking over each other. When God strikes you down, he doesn’t play around. He’s got quite a flair for drama, doesn’t He?”

  “This isn’t God.”

  “Are you sure? If you were still blessed, could this happen to you?”

  A signal came up on the screen that was relayed to the area around Gate 12. The screen read:

  EVACUATE SECTOR 12.

  EVACUATE SECTOR 12

  IMMEDIATELY.

  THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

  “It’s going out over the public address system,” Brody said. “The hack makes it look as if the warning is coming from here. No way to tell our people to ignore it.”

  “We don’t want our people to ignore it,” Evelyn said. “That’s where the first breach of our defenses will come. We’ve got to move, contain and eradicate.”

  Contain and eradicate, I thought. God, how she hates us.

  “Brody, stay here and figure out a way to regain control of our systems. Baker, bring the girl. Whoever’s leading this revolution may pause a moment when they see we have their spy. We might be able to use that.”

  “I doubt that will help you, Evelyn,” I said. “How many soldiers would you sacrifice to get the Circle back? That’s probably how many they’ll sacrifice to take it. There are many more lives to save on their side of the wall.”

  “You people,” Baker said. “Portland wasn’t enough for you? You’re just another bunch of stupid beggars looking for handouts. Jesus, what more could it take for you to learn — ”

  “We did learn, Michael,” I replied. “The Portland protests were about begging for justice. The marches that scared you so much were about closing the gap between the few up and the many down. Right or left, what we all had in common was poverty and the love of our families.”

  Baker sneered. “What did you learn after we wiped out a city of malcontents with a nuke?”

  “We learned that the next march had to be on a city the Select Few would not nuke. You took away our homes so now we’re coming to yours for shelter.”

  “We’ve got the firepower,” Evelyn said. “We’ll keep the climbers out.”

  “This is Operation Jericho,” I said. “Your precious Circle will be broken.”

  Evelyn pulled the pistol from her holster. “I promise you’ll never see that. Now move!” She cursed at me all the way to the car.

  Wanda and Eye stood in the garage. Eye looked shocked that her mother was pointing a gun at my head. Wanda didn’t seem the least surprised.

  “Get Eye to the panic room!” Evelyn ordered. “And my husband, too. Where’s Kirk?”

  “He’s at the tower. I tried to get through to him but the phones don’t work. They’re just static.”

  “Get to the panic room.”

  Wanda bobbed her head and ushered Eye toward the door to her parents’ private abode. The girl looked back, her eyes wet.

  If Operation Jericho failed, what would become of Eye? What would happen to her if the invasion of New Atlanta succeeded?

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I sat in the back seat with Baker and Evelyn sat behind the wheel. She tried to radio her team in the security bunker but received no answer.

  “All signals are scrambled, Captain,” Baker observed.

  “Yes, someone is very thorough.”

  I wondered where my sister was. She could be colluding with teams of hackers, spinning more impenetrable webs of deceit.

  Evelyn and Kirk could have enjoyed their wealth and power and still allowed ordinary people to live as they once did. Having a billion dollars must be a comfort, but what drove a person to go after the next billion and the next billion and the billion after that? The answer to that question would have to remain a mystery.

  When we arrived in Sector 12, Baker pushed me out of the car ahead of him, training his pistol on me. The Home Depot was behind me to the left. AWE’s Officer Training Academy stood to my right. We were in a large square built to accommodate trucks that made large deliveries. The square served as the academy’s parade ground when big trucks weren’t rumbling through.

  The streets inside the Circle were so empty they echoed. It was as if the residents had disappeared. They had either evacuated to other areas within New Atlanta or hid in their underground bunkers.

  Through the gate, the crowd along either side of the street peered back at us, an odd and hauntingly silent vigil. They were men, women, and children of varying ages, all in ragged and dirty clothes. They looked neither angry nor sad. If I had to pin it down, I’d say their expressions were a mixture of expectant and resolute. Someone would surely die, but I detected no fear beyond that gate. These people had little to lose.

  Evelyn slowly turned and I followed her gaze. A long low concrete building opposite the gate was punctuated by loading docks: the Circle’s armory.

  “Oh, no … ” Evelyn whispered.

  She stalked toward Gate 12 and ordered the guard to close the gate manually. However, no guard appeared.

  Six AWE officers were gathered on the parapet above the gate. Not wanting to tip her hand, she pointed at one to come to her. A fit man with graying hair bobbed his head and rushed down a ladder. He met her halfway to the gate. “Stevenson, ma’am. Orders, Captain?”

  “There’s no one in the shack, Lieutenant. Report!” Evelyn demanded.

  “I didn’t know her, ma’am, but she was a regular on the shift. As soon as we saw the mob of climbers coming up the street, I went down to the gate myself to close it. She walked out into the crowd, disappeared into it.”

  “You should have shot her for desertion.”

  “I was preoccupied in the shack, ma’am. The lever is broken clean off and the wheels are jammed with some kind of resin. We tried to call it in but — ”

  “But the radio’s jammed, I know.” She glanced back at me. “We’ve been hacked and infiltrated by climbers and their sympathizers, apparently. Tell me what I don’t know.”

  “I sent a runner to get an LRAD but they’re in use two gates over.”

  “I knew we shouldn’t have cheaped out. I told the council every gate s
hould have a sound cannon.”

  After Portland, the Select thought they were safe. They assumed we’d given up. That was the only way we could win. They had to beat us down so hard they were sure we couldn’t get up again. Appearing weak was our only advantage and continuing to resist in secret was our only defense.

  I wondered if the guard who sabotaged the gate’s mechanisms was the same woman who’d watched me get beat up. If so, I decided to forgive her.

  “What are you smiling at?” Baker growled.

  “Entropy. It’s … inevitable.”

  The radio on Evelyn’s belt crackled to life. It was Brody. “Security Central to Captain Rossi! I’ve reestablished communications. They’re using our own gear against us. I unjammed the jammer.”

  “Roger that,” Evelyn replied. “So you can undo the hack?”

  “Uh, no, ma’am. I just unplugged our jammer. Over.”

  “Seriously?” Exasperated, Evelyn made a tsk sound. “We’re chasing our tails and comin’ up all elbows. Order to all AWE guards! Close your gates! Relay that to everyone, Brody! And get hold of CSS, too. We may need outside help.”

  “The CSS is overrun with troubles in the camps. Climbers have already rushed through Gates 5, 10, 11, 23 and 27, ma’am.”

  “Coordinated attacks,” Baker said. “Maybe lining up on either side of the street was a diversion, Captain. Looks like we’ve been duped so they’d squeeze in elsewhere.”

  Evelyn ordered Baker to shut his mouth and yelled into her radio. “Close the rest of the gates. Prepare to contain and eradicate! We’ll drive them out.”

  A moment passed and Evelyn frowned. “Brody? Acknowledge?”

  “A new alert just came through on my screen.” Brody’s voice trembled. “The hack is still active. They’re pouring in, Captain. I could unplug everything but then we’ll be blind. The climbers are already in the street outside, ma’am. I can hear them marching. I’m alone here and I’m not sure what to do.”

  “That’s why you have orders. Stay calm. We haven’t lost anything yet. What’s the new alert from the hack?”

  “It says firefighting teams should report to Sector 12, ma’am.”

  Rossi glanced at the gate and considered for a beat. Then she smiled. “Yes! Send fire engines immediately. They’re one of the few kinds of vehicles in the Circle that are big enough to block Gate 12. Tell the fire teams to get their asses over here and block the gate immediately.”

  She turned to Stevenson and tossed her head toward the guards atop the parapet. “You locked and loaded, Lieutenant?”

  “I’ve got five parrots in their perches, ma’am. They’ve got three mags each. I don’t like the math of firing into that crowd, Captain. I’d suggest negotiating.”

  “Negotiating?”

  “They’ve got all elderly out front. Veterans are at least the first few dozen rows back.”

  “What?”

  “Vets, ma’am. Ribbons and medals on their chests.”

  My father once told Sissy and me about a battle tactic from an old war. I couldn’t remember if it was Iran or Iraq that sent children forward first, shock troops to give the opposing side pause. I like to think Sissy remembered that story and inverted the tactic for Operation Jericho.

  It did give the parrots pause. Unfortunately, so determined was she to stand her ground, an appeal to decency would not stop Evelyn Rossi. She remained eager to defend her castle to the last.

  “There are children out there, too, ma’am,” Stevenson reported. “Suppose we find out what they want? This might be solved with a few more rations or — ”

  “If the climbers didn’t want their kids shot, they shouldn’t have brought them to my gates, Lieutenant.”

  A chill ran up my spine. By his face, I wondered if Lt. Stevenson felt that same cold frisson.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  A siren rose in the distance as the first fire truck roared through the Circle’s narrow streets.

  Evelyn smiled in cruel defiance. “The climbers are not getting through this gate, do you hear me?”

  But Operation Jericho had many more moving parts than I could have guessed. The hack was a well-coordinated attack. Other vehicles with large engines were on their way. However, that sound did not come from within the Circle.

  The crowd lining the street beyond the gate turned their heads away from us, peering to see what was coming. A murmur wound among them. As if they were one organism, the people of Old Atlanta pulled back from the gate. Mothers and fathers stepped in front of their children and turned their backs to the wall.

  One of the guards above the gate shouted, “Incoming!” Then he began to fire his weapon. The others joined in.

  An AUTONAV truck appeared on the street beyond the gate. There was no driver, of course. The guards’ only hope was to disable the vehicle using rifle fire. The engines were in the undercarriage so they fired at the tires.

  Screams rose from the crowd and many flattened to avoid getting hit by ricochets. No one ran.

  Evelyn raced toward the shack. “Stevenson! Help me! We’ve got to get the tire spikes up!”

  “I told you! It’s disabled!” Stevenson yelled back.

  “We have to try!”

  The first truck punched through Gate 12 like a fist, blowing past Evelyn and barreling toward me at top speed. The truck’s sensor must have saved me because the vehicle swerved at the last moment, barely missing Baker.

  The AUTONAV clipped the front fender of the vehicle we’d taken to get there. The car spun, narrowly missing my captor. Cursing, Baker yelped and took a few quick steps to his right to avoid getting hit by the car.

  Daddy taught me how and where to hit a man with elbows and knees so it counted. “You gotta deal with the weapon before you deal with the man,” he told me.

  I grabbed Baker’s pistol. Struggling to wrench it from his grasp would only get me shot in the face. I twisted it back so the muzzle pointed at his head.

  Baker wisely took his finger off the trigger and pulled back to punch me in the face.

  My first strike was to his throat. That surprised him. My kick to his shin surprised him more but it was the second elbow to his throat that caught him just so. It was a solid jolt to his airway and jangled his nervous system.

  Daddy had been an excellent instructor but Mama instilled in me the importance of being savage when necessary.

  “Remember how we taught you to do a high jump?” Mama once said. “How you have to drive your knee up to get elevation? A proper knee to the groin is like the first part of a high jump, all the energy coming straight up, like you’re on springs, baby. Go for elevation, drive that knee up, high and hard so you achieve liftoff. Do it right and your opponent will have to open his mouth to pee.”

  Mama was right. The guard’s eyes bugged out on impact. With adrenaline coursing through my body, my legs really did feel as if they were on springs.

  Two more trucks narrowly missed us as I punched the base of his throat for good measure.

  Gasping in pain, Baker went down. His head bounced off the hot pavement. His concussion probably did more damage than I had but I’d learned my lessons well. I threw myself on top of him, pinning his wrists to the ground. Baker outweighed me by at least sixty pounds. I had to finish him before he recovered.

  As a fourth truck sped past us, I hooked my legs under his knees. With both hands on his wrists, I only had one weapon left in my arsenal. I reared up and drove my forehead into Baker’s nose.

  I’d hoped to knock him unconscious but I didn’t have enough weight and power for that. No matter. He cried out in pain and his grip on his pistol loosened. I scrabbled for the weapon, ramming my knee up into his chin as I grasped for it.

  Panting, I trained the pistol at his bloody face. “Officer Baker. You’re demoted. You’re just Michael Baker now. How does that feel?”

  My knees were bruised and blood dripped from my face. I wasn’t sure how much of the blood belonged to Baker. From the way my forehead felt, I g
uessed some of it was mine. I’d aimed for a hit square on his nose but I must have caught a ridge of bone around his deep-set eyes.

  Shaking, I got to my feet and backed away, leaning on the car that had nearly knocked us both dead. I glanced back to see the trucks parked alongside each of the armory’s loading docks.

  “Drop that weapon!” I looked up. It was Lt. Stevenson. As the trucks rammed through Gate 12’s maw, he’d climbed back to his post atop the parapet. His rifle was trained on me.

  I shrugged and tossed the weapon away.

  As Baker glared at me, one of his eyes had already begun to fill with blood. Coughing and still gasping in pain, he managed a thin smile.

  Evelyn stepped out of the shack and strode toward me. Then she turned, walking backward, addressing the crowd beyond the gate. “I’ve got one of your spies here! Turn around and go home or I’ll make an example of her!”

  A lone voice called back, “We have no home!”

  Evelyn scanned the crowd, searching for the woman who dared to reply. “Tanya? Is that you?”

  A young blonde pushed her way to the front. It was the woman I’d replaced as Eye’s nanny. She carried the American flag on a short pole. The flag was upside down, the symbol of the nation in distress. I broke into a grin at the sight. I’d known her all my life, but never as a blonde, never by the name of Tanya Dunford.

  “Stay outside the gate!” Evelyn yelled. “Stay out of the Circle or my men will open up on the crowd.” She pointed to me. “And I’ll make an example of your spy, right in front of all those children!”

  The rebel did not budge. “They say what we have in common is we all love our children and want the best for them. That’s not true for you, is it? You hate us, even the little kids.”

  “What do you think I am? A cartoon? I don’t hate your children!” Evelyn snarled. “I just don’t care about them as much as I do my own.”