by Kyle Andrews
He couldn't have been unconscious, because when the haze of drugs lifted, he was dressed in normal clothes, standing in the main hall of the HAND building. He had no idea how much time had passed or how he had gotten there.
He could feel his wounds, but they must have been stitched or otherwise treated, because if they were still hanging open, he would have expected more blood when he moved around.
There were a few moments, just as he was waking up, when he dared to dream that those wounds weren't real. He wanted to believe that the whole thing had been in his head, and they'd used some advanced technology to make him see and feel whatever they wanted. But he could feel the stitches in his arm rubbing against the shirt that they'd put on him.
He was still groggy. Whatever they'd given him hadn't worked its way out of his system yet. He could think normal thoughts, but he couldn't speak normal words or move the way he would normally move. When he came out of that sedation, he was already standing, with the help of two HAND officers. It was a strange thought, being awake and yet not. The possibility of having done things which he couldn't remember. Lost time. Memories, buried deep inside his head, where he would never reach them.
Liz was standing behind him once again. He didn't know when she'd come back, but she was there when the fog lifted. Still in his mind, of course, but she kept her distance nonetheless. She didn't want to be anywhere near the HAND officers who were holding him up.
In front of him, there were large doors which led to the outside. Collin could hear the Mayor speaking out there, and the crowd cheering around him. The sounds echoed through his head nearly as much as they echoed through the lobby.
The Mayor's words were gibberish to him. He could hear the sounds of those words, but he couldn't process those sounds or make himself understand what was happening.
What was happening?
Liz was panicking. She was about to cry, but she held a hand over her mouth to ensure that she wouldn't make any sound that might tip off the HAND soldiers—Just in case they could hear imaginary people. She wanted Collin to snap out of it. She wanted him to pull himself together. She needed him to wake up!
The HAND officers placed a hood over Collin's head, plunging him into darkness. Now he had no point of reality on which to focus. He was afloat in a sea of the unknown, bobbing up and down and from side to side, getting more seasick by the moment.
He didn't even feel them moving him. One moment he felt as though his legs were giving out beneath him, and the next, the hood was being pulled off of his head and he was standing beside the Mayor, in front of and audience of maybe twenty people, outside of the HAND building.
Twenty people. Moments ago, their cheers sounded like a violent storm. It must have been a recording, or some trick of sound.
Collin stood there, trying to listen to what the Mayor was saying to the crowd, but he couldn't make sense of the words. He understood them individually, but when put together they were gibberish to him.
As the seconds passed, the lights around him became slightly less blinding. The sounds stopped hurting his ears. And the words made a bit more sense.
He was being offered, in exchange for someone else. They wanted to put someone else through the same hell that he'd been put through, and what would Freedom get in exchange? A broken, weak man who would do nothing but sit on the floor, talking to his imaginary girlfriend for the rest of his life?
No. He couldn't let that happen. He wasn't worth it. Whatever the authorities wanted had to be more valuable to the cause than a book runner who had managed to stumble into the public eye. He was nobody. He just hoped that Freedom remembered that.
“You have two hours,” the Mayor said.
This was Collin's chance to protest. It was his time to scream out and tell his allies to let him go. It was his opportunity to throw himself on the sword and save that other person.
But he couldn't speak. All he could do was turn and look at the Mayor with a pained expression, and even that was hard to get out.
They'd taken everything from him. They'd put his body through hell. They'd played tricks with his mind. Now, he couldn't even speak. Everything that made him who he was had, at one time or another, been stripped away. What else could they do to him? Even death would have been a relief at that point. But they wanted to inflict one more pain upon him. They wanted him to watch as either someone suffered in his place, or his own people showed him that they were willing to let him die.
What more could they do to him? What was left to torture?
43
“It's great initiative that the Mayor is taking here tonight,” Tam Fellows told the news anchor whose name Justin hadn't ever caught. “He's showing the world why he is in the position he is in. He's standing up to the extremists and the terrorists and those who would make us afraid to continue living our lives, and he's telling them that he is in charge of this city.”
“But he's also showing a bit of compassion,” the anchor replied.
Tam nodded and said, “Well, look... At the end of the day, we're going to have to live with these people. We're already living with these people. The Mayor is showing us how it's done. He's showing us that we must stand against hatred and violence, but we must stand together as a society. I really think that this stand that he's taking will go down in history.”
Justin's eyes were glued to the TV, but he wasn't paying attention to the people who were on the screen at that moment. He was still focused on what the Mayor had demanded in exchange for Collin Powers. He wanted Libby.
Justin's fists were balled so tight that his fingernails were digging into his palms, but he didn't care. His jaw was clenched so tightly that his ears were ringing, but he didn't care. In that moment, the only thing that Justin cared about was the Mayor. He wanted to grip that man's neck and squeeze until he was holding his own hand.
When his eyes drifted away from the TV screen, Justin saw a young woman sitting in front of it. Her head was turned and she was staring at Libby, as though she expected Libby to say something or do something right then and there.
He looked to someone else, and they were staring at Libby too. It took a few of the people a moment or two to realize that she was in the room with them, but as they did, each of them focused on her.
What did they want from her? Obviously, they weren't going to give in to the demands of the Mayor. They weren't going to play his games. If he executed Collin Powers, that blood would be on his hands, not Libby's.
Justin looked to Libby and he could see the stunned expression on her face. She wasn't looking at the TV, or at any of the people in the room. She was looking upward, where she knew she wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. If she could have become invisible, she no doubt would have.
“Libby,” he started, but she held up a hand, stopping him. She didn't want to hear whatever he had to say. Maybe it was for the best, since he had no idea what he was going to tell her.
She took a step backward and her eyes drifted down. By mistake, she looked at that young woman sitting near the TV and she stared at her for a moment. Then, she turned and hurried out of the room. Justin wasn't sure whether he should follow her or not. What was the protocol for when a friend was called out for execution by the Mayor?
“Where is she going?” someone whispered.
“Probably running,” someone else replied. “I know I would.”
“You'd think she'd at least consider it. He was already sacrificed once for her.”
“We kinda need her right now.”
Justin looked around the room from face to face. He didn't care who was speaking. He was mad at all of them, and the world in general. Didn't Libby have enough to deal with?
He walked out of the room and stopped in the hallway, looking in each direction for Libby. He spotted her to his left, walking fast.
“Libby!” he called out, hurrying to catch up to her. “Wait!”
She didn't slow down. He couldn't even tell whether she heard him or not. She seemed to know whe
re she was going though, and she was not going to waste any time getting there.
Justin had to run to catch up with her. When he did, he walked beside her, looking over at her. She didn't even acknowledge his presence. She just stared straight ahead with determination in her eyes.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but she didn't answer.
He wanted to know what she was thinking. Was she scared that they were going to turn her over? Because that was absurd. There was no way that anyone in the Garden would expect her to hand herself over and be sacrificed.
“You don't need to worry,” he said. “They don't know where you are, and we're certainly not going to tell them.”
She didn't answer.
“Libby, talk to me.”
Still, there was only silence.
Libby walked down a flight of stairs, to the first level of the Garden, where the main lobby was. As she and Justin entered the commotion of that area, he looked at all the people, rushing from one side of the building to another. They were panicking and planning, and Libby walked through the crowd as though it wasn't there.
She walked directly to where the TVs were being monitored. Aaron was standing near them, with people from different departments surrounding him. He was pointing to people and giving orders. When he told someone what needed to be done, they would rush off, and someone else would always come to take their place.
When Aaron saw Libby approaching, he held up a hand, telling her to wait for him to finish what he needed to do, but she didn't slow down. It didn't appear as though she cared what he was doing.
Justin put a hand on her arm and told her, “You need to slow down, Lib.”
“We have two hours,” she replied. It was the first time she'd spoken to him about the Mayor's demand, and still it gave him no idea what she was thinking.
Libby got as close as she could to Aaron, standing behind all of the people who were talking to him at once. She stared at him, giving him a few moments to wrap things up. As Justin stood behind her, he looked at each of the clipboards, printouts and tablets that the people around him were carrying. He saw maps and diagrams. He saw at least one tablet with his own picture on it.
He had no idea what Aaron's response to the Mayor would be. Collin Powers wasn't even a member of the Garden. He was based out of one of the other Freedom locations, and most Freedom members didn't even know where those other bases were. It would be difficult to contact Collin's group without more time. And it would be impossible for them to contact the Garden, to ask them to consider the exchange, because nobody outside of the Garden knew where Libby was. Even if they wanted to demand that Libby sacrifice herself for their own man, it wouldn't be happening. She was too important.
Justin looked back to Libby and saw her doing exactly what he was. She was glancing from person to person, from clipboard to tablet. Judging by the expression on her face, she was trying to piece it all together, but she was having no luck.
Aaron held up a finger, telling Libby to hold on. He wasn't including her in his decisions. That was good. It meant that Justin was right in assuming that she would be safe.
She didn't seem particularly concerned with Aaron at that point. She looked up to the TV screens, and then turned to take in the view of the people rushing around the Garden. Several people were staring at her. The look in their eyes wasn't fear or sympathy. The look was filled with expectation. When Justin saw those people, a chill shot through his body. They wanted her to go.
Justin couldn't even begin to imagine what Libby was thinking. She had to be scared and confused, but those emotions weren't showing on her face.
Aaron was continuing to work, which was frustrating Justin. He wanted Aaron to speak with her and tell her what was expected of her. He wanted Aaron to assure Libby—and him—that she was safe and the situation was under control. But easing the fears of two teenagers didn't seem to be a priority for Aaron in that moment.
Libby was growing more restless as she stood there. She was tapping her hand on her leg and looking from face to face. She was thinking something important, but she wasn't going to let Justin know what it was. Being kept out of the loop by everyone around him was starting to wear on his nerves. It was like a bomb was about to explode and everyone in the Garden had an idea of where that bomb was hidden, except for Justin. He was just expected to stand there and hope that he wasn't caught in the blast.
After observing the situation and growing tired of waiting to talk to Aaron, Libby turned and walked away from the area. Undoubtedly, she needed to think about what was happening. She probably wanted to get away from all the people, and find someplace quiet.
Thinking that he should stay with her, in case she needed to talk, Justin turned and started to follow. He didn't get far before he heard Aaron call, “Justin!” above the crowd.
He turned and looked at Aaron, who was now holding up a hand in his direction, telling him to wait while he finished up with whatever he was doing. He wanted to talk to Justin, probably about Libby. But why didn't he just talk to her when he had the chance?
Justin turned and looked for Libby, but she was already lost in the frenzy of people. He couldn't find her. He'd lost her. Panic started to grow inside of him.
“Justin, I need to speak with you for a sec,” Aaron called out to him over the crowd. When Justin turned, he saw Aaron moving toward him.
“I lost her,” Justin told Aaron. “She was right here.”
“She probably went back to her mother's room.”
Obviously, Aaron hadn't heard the latest on Libby's family situation, but Justin didn't want to waste time gossiping about his friends. He asked Aaron, “What do you need me for?”
It came out sounding far more disinterested than he had intended. When the leader of your base wanted to speak with a person, that person generally showed a little bit more respect. He would have apologized if Aaron had given him the chance, but there was no time.
Aaron told him, “HAND is on high alert tonight. A lot of the men that they had stationed in the hospitals are being moved to the HAND building.”
“They expecting a fight?”
“Seems like.”
“Are we planning to give them one?”
“One step at a time,” Aaron said, breezing past the issue as though it was of no importance. “A few of the tech guys think that they can disable the tracking functions on one of the profiling scanners if we can get our hands on it. If we had one of those scanners at our disposal, we'd be able to download the full library that's been encoded in Libby's DNA. We'd also be able to scan our people, and get a clearer idea of how it all works. We'd know if any of our people are already in whatever system they have set up. As you can imagine, this is a big deal.”
Justin was following what he was saying, but he still didn't know what it had to do with him, or the situation with Libby. In all honesty, he didn't care about the scanners or the library at that moment. What he cared about was getting reassurance that Libby wasn't going to be sacrificed for the cause.
But the thought of Collin Powers being executed on live TV was not sitting well with him either. Aaron hadn't even mentioned Powers, or if they were going to try to save him. Certainly, his life was more important than getting the scanner right now.
“What are you thinking?” Aaron asked him.
“I'm thinking that you're avoiding the issue at hand. The Mayor just demanded that we hand over Libby. Now, I get that you're not planning to do that, but I'm missing the part of this plan that helps Collin Powers.”
“I'm not sure that there is a way to help Collin Powers.”
“So we sit back and do nothing, while millions of people around the city watch one of our people get executed as part of the new primetime lineup?”
“What would you have me do?”
Justin almost wanted to laugh. It wasn't his job to tell Aaron what to do. It was Aaron's job to tell everyone else what to do.
He turned away from Aaron for a moment, running hi
s hands through his hair and trying to think of what he was supposed to say in a situation like this. He figured that 'how the hell should I know?' wasn't what Aaron was looking for, so he needed something better to offer.
Putting emotion aside, Justin told him, “No matter how much we may wish otherwise, the truth is that we don't have an army. We don't have the weapons that we would need to charge the HAND building and save Powers.”
He was trying to think of a plan. He kept moving down different paths, exploring every option, but they all led to the same place: Failure. They could send in a swarm of their best men, but if they did that, chances were good that they would all be killed, along with Collin Powers.
Turning around to face Aaron once again, he shook his head and said, “I don't know. I can't think of any way to save him.”
Aaron nodded and said, “Me neither.”
“Then what is this? Why are we talking?”
“Because I wanted to see if you understood the situation. I wanted to make sure that you knew what this was, and that you wouldn't try anything stupid.”
“I don't know what you're saying.”
“I'm sending you to the HAND building. We've heard the crowd on TV cheering for his death. We've seen the news reports, but we both know how reliable the news is. I'm not willing to take their word for it.”
Justin knew long before this point that Aaron hadn't been interested in talking about Libby. Up until this point, Justin's assignment—given to him by himself—had been to act as her protector. But now he was being pulled from that duty and reassigned.
“You want me to go to the execution,” Justin concluded. “You want me to get a feel for what people are really saying out there. Whether they're cheering over his death, or if people are as sickened by it as we are.”
Aaron nodded, “You and several others. Do you think you can do it?”
“Stand there and watch while a man is murdered? Cheer as he screams? Praise the system and repress my urge to vomit?” Justin asked, thinking the matter over.