Rebel Heart

by Lizzy Ford

  “I said, security to command! You surface dwellers better not be sleeping, or—”

  In the quite, dark command center, Lana awoke from her doze with a jerk at the peeved female’s voice, the dream of her journey to the Peak fading. She slapped the pad to open the command center’s internal network. The communications screen lit up one wall, displaying one of the genetically altered women in the elite special operations security team. Unlike the regular military, the political elite’s security private forces were made up of children from the upper class to prevent the elite class from becoming polluted by the poor.

  The muscular woman, with short blond hair and clad in black tactical gear, stood in a stark white hallway. Green eyes sparkled despite her irritated tone.

  “I’m here, I’m here, Elise,” Lana mumbled.

  “Lana!” Elise’s voice brightened. “I’m happy it’s you. Greenie got you working nights, too?”

  “Yes. Everything okay?”

  “Just bored.”

  Lana’s body ached from sleeping in chairs. She shook her head to clear it and looked around. The command hub held a dozen workstations, one for each eastern critical infrastructure, and a wall secured behind titanium glass of keypads, buttons, and computer screens that acted as the emergency backup. The Eastern Command Center had served as the headquarters for the Eastern armies during the East-West Civil War. After the war, it remained a central hub.

  The other walls of the octagon-shaped command center were occupied by silent, animated screens similar to the one the underground security commander appeared on. Computers hummed, the sound enough to lull Lana to sleep nearly every shift she spent alone in the vault despite the sleep replacement supplements—known as anti-sleepers—she took.

  She paced in front of one wall, staring again at the map of the eastern U.S., where the attacks and their kill zones were marked with a running timeline beneath it. The major cities in the East hit by nukes were marked in red with concentric circles that faded to orange, yellow, and finally green as they stretched west. With the exception of a few isolated pockets of green, most of the East Coast was shaded with red, orange, or yellow, while the Midwest was a mix of greens and yellows.

  “You’re obsessed,” Elise said. “What is it now?”

  “The usual. I’m missing something.”

  “You and everyone else around here. You know tonight I had to prevent the VP’s commo guy from using the emergency network to order gin? Someone down here wants martinis.”

  Lana sighed. She crossed to the communication master workstation and checked the systems. The emergency network had not been utilized, which meant that by morning one of the high-ranking men hiding underground would be on the phone to General Greene to complain about the lack of gin.

  “Water, I can understand. That’s a big deal,” Elise continued. “The network good?”

  “Yeah. They didn’t use it. Will I be reading another report about you smacking someone?”

  “Nope. Just told the commo guy he wouldn’t ever see the light of day again if he touched the commo pad.”

  “I’m glad you’re down there, Elise,” she said. “I’m not sure I could tell the VP to sit down and shut up with the same panache you have.”

  “It’s fun. How’s life in the sun? I thought Jim told me you’re seeing survivors at the gates?”

  Lana’s smile faded. “Our location isn’t secret anymore,” she responded in a troubled tone. “It’s crazy around here sometimes.”

  She was uneasy lingering on the events of the past week. The local populace—some dressed in the Western uniforms she’d seen in her history classes—was making its way towards the compound, lured by the rumors of the government compound and food, water, and medicines. She did not agree with the commander’s orders to kill anyone who stepped within range. Her gaze returned to the map.

  “Everyone’s asleep, and I’m bored,” Elise complained. “Tell me why you always stare at that map whenever I call.”

  “It just doesn’t make sense to me,” Lana began. She sat again in the uncomfortable chair that had become her alternate bed.

  “What doesn’t?”

  “We had no advanced warning that this was going to happen. That’s virtually impossible, Elise. The attacks on the coast occurred simultaneously with nukes that would’ve been impossible to hide, let alone smuggle into the country. No one has this capability, even the PMF.”

  “I thought you domestic security types were supposed to be watching this kind of thing.”

  “We do. We did. I’ve never seen anything indicating the PMF could wipe out the East Coast. It doesn’t fit with their alleged party objectives or any tactics they’ve ever employed.”

  “No one else could’ve done it. Unless you know something I don’t?” Elise countered.

  Lana said nothing. If not for Mr. Tim’s assertion, she would not have pursued her instincts. Research conducted during quiet nights such as this only bolstered her opinion that the only organization that might have the capabilities still couldn’t have done this. Her years of training led her to a conclusion she couldn’t yet embrace: that the only way to hide the large-scaled planning would require someone on the inside of the government.

  Her gaze settled on the animated timeline. All of the attacks occurred between three fifteen in the morning and four thirty. Mr. Tim had called her well before. If he knew something was about to happen, then others within the government did as well. She just couldn’t find it.

  “I’ll be rotating to the surface this afternoon,” Elise said. “You with the psycho commander today?”

  “Probably,” Lana responded, turning away from the map. “General Greene is headed down there this morning. He normally keeps the commander close to him. I’ll probably have to stay with Arnie if the general isn’t around.”

  The door behind Lana slid open. She twisted in her seat to face General Greene, one of the three people on the compound authorized by the manic commander to be present in the command hub alone. His clothing was pressed and his appearance spry despite his almost sixty years.

  “Elise out.” The security commander’s image disappeared from the screen.

  Lana studied the general. To an outsider, he appeared as confident and fresh as a man just starting a mission after a good night’s sleep. She, however, saw the lines of pain and exhaustion under his eyes. His right arm hung limply at his side. He had not used it in over a month.

  “How are you feeling, sir?” she asked.

  “Another beautiful day,” he said. “Any word from the West?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” he said with a shrug. “The commander is officially no longer in command. The doc finally declared him unfit after his last episode.”

  Lana almost sighed in relief.

  “No more lunatic rages or attempts to blast himself to the moon or whatever he was doing last week,” General Greene added with a shake of his head. “Unfortunately, Arnie needs a babysitter, someone who can hush up anything he says that he shouldn’t. There are only three of us here with access to that level of information, and I’m ordering you to do it.”

  “He has been very erratic lately,” she agreed.

  “He’s so drugged up by the doc right now, even you should be able to handle him. He’ll be replacing Elise as your current roommate for the time being. Anything happen last night?”

  Lana grimaced internally at the thought of dealing with the crazy man who should’ve been running the command center instead of her. Arnie Smith had fallen off the deep end soon after arriving to the Peak.

  “Yes, sir,” she replied. “One of the generators is out. I don’t know that we have the expertise here to repair it at this time. We may be eating out of cans soon. Food stores are getting low up here.” She looked at her notes on her micro. “Also, South Carolina contacted us regarding water for its residents in Charlotte. I authorized the dispersal of two tons of water and twenty cases of rations from the emergency site in
Raleigh along with hazmat drivers and twelve vehicles. It will tide them over while they try to repair their water system.”

  “How are the power grids holding up?” he asked, gaze shifting to the screens around them.

  Lana brought up the energy grids. The geospatial depiction of the country was crisscrossed with glowing colors and lines.

  “Not well. Traditional power is mostly out all the way to the Mississippi River. Everything this side of the Mississippi is working on solar energy, but not all the facilities are equipped with energy storage, and because it’s fall, our energy collection is limited. It’s still a mess but better than it was.”

  He frowned at the map before him.

  “Teams are working to repair what they can,” she added more softly.

  “Good enough,” he said. “Take a break for a couple of hours. The medics have your anti-sleepers ready. I don’t think things will get any better for us.”

  Lana hesitated then went on with a frown. “Sir, we have another two weeks of supplies up here, if that. The guards have shot another dozen people around the perimeters, and our sensors indicate there is a small camp of some sort housing over a hundred survivors nearby and another one with several hundred at the bottom of the mountain,” she said. “I take it we’ve not heard from the central or west coast sites this week?”

  “No, we haven’t.”

  She waited for some assurance or direction. When he remained silent, she left.

  Lana shivered as she stepped into the cold night. The sky was clear, one of the few clear nights since she arrived to the Peak. Normally, clouds hung around the mountaintop. She breathed the chilled air to clear her thoughts. Black-clad guards roamed the internal perimeter while others manned the walls of the compound. The pulse of the protective field surrounding the compound mixed with the distant howls of coyotes inhabiting the forest.

  She hugged herself and treaded to the side of the main road down a small hill to the barracks housing the feds. The road edged a thatch of forest past the water treatment plant and the power plant, and circled the central command hub in which she worked before leading to the main entrance of the compound.

  The walk was peaceful, the starry night and thrum of crickets easing her tired mind. She thought of Jack, hoping he was still safe with Mrs. Watson but not optimistic he was. She’d tried to contact Mrs. Watson several times the first week at the Peak before giving up. Her only regret in leaving everything behind was not bringing Jack with her.

  A set of soldiers approached on patrol. Lana waved to them in greeting as she reached the barracks. She dreaded entering, wanting a moment of peace before being confined within the spartanly furnished room with the manic Arnie Smith. She turned away, crossed the road, and skirted the darkened helipad resting at the edge of a cliff overlooking an extensive valley.

  She perched on one of the boulders lining the cliff edge and tucked her legs beneath her. The cliff’s sheer drop created a natural defense against any intruders in addition to providing a view that was breathtaking by day or night. The valley appeared as vast as the sky, both stretching until they met a second range of mountains in the distance.

  “Checking in.” The Guardian’s voice drifted over her personal net.

  Pleased to hear from the Guardian, she found herself smiling. She knew little about the stranger who called to check on her every day, not even his real name, but she was always cheered by his familiar voice.

  “I’m here,” she answered. “You’re still alive.”

  “For now. Fortunately, things look bleaker every day,” he replied with amusement. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

  “I know—six hours a day,” she said before he chided her as he often did. “I don’t think I’ll get any real sleep for a long time.”

  “How are things?”

  “We have two weeks of food left and a commander confined to my quarters to ensure he doesn’t do anything rash.”

  He chuckled.

  “Is it that much of a mess out there?” she asked.

  “Yeah. And we’re almost out of supplies.”

  “You should have mentioned that before. Do you have your coordinates?” She withdrew a microcomputer from her pocket. “I can tell you where the nearest emerops supply is. I’ll release the locks, if you promise to take only what you need and not sell the rest, like the feds in Florida.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “What else can you do?” he asked.

  “What else do you need?”

  “More than you’d like to know,” he promised. “For now, food and water will be good. We’ll take what we need and nothing more. Sending coordinates.”

  She reviewed the numbers that popped up on her screen.

  “You’re not far,” she murmured, typing in lock and alarm release codes. “I’m sending the location of the nearest supply center.”

  “If you control all these stores, why not send people out for food?” he asked.

  “It’s complicated,” she responded, mind on the manic commander and his equally unreasonable decisions.

  “Complicated,” he repeated. “I won’t ask. You go shooting this evening?”

  “No. In the morning. My friend Elise is on the special security team. She lets me train with them, and the general is very supportive.”

  “Good girl.”

  “The locks will open at zero four twenty-five. The facility will rearm at four forty-nine exactly. You don’t want to be trapped inside when it does.”

  “We’ll move quickly.”

  Lana tucked the microcomputer away, gazing at the valley again.

  “How are you?” he questioned.

  “I’m well. Healthy, at least. I worry we won’t be enough to maintain government ops for much longer. This type of contingency was not one we planned for. I guess I’m scared, but I’m too tired to tell,” she answered. “I was thinking today that I wish my dog was with me, so I don’t die alone. I had hoped to be married by this point of my life.”

  “Married? Even with the amendment outlawing divorce? Sounds like madness to me.”

  “There was a time when the national marriage rate was fairly high,” she reminded him. “Before the East-West War. The point of being married is not to get a divorce.”

  “We see how well that worked. You have to admit that seven of ten marriages ending in divorce is not a very promising statistic. It’s one of the few Wartime laws I agreed with. At least companions have the same rights as spouses without the hassle of marriage. That seems like a better deal to me.”

  “Didn’t you ever hear your grandparents tell stories about how they met and got married?” she pursued.

  “Yes. And how they got divorced, my grandfather four times over.”

  “My grandparents had better luck,” she admitted. “They met when the classes were divided after the war. My grandfather was from the elite and my grandmother from the manual labor class. He gave up everything to be with her, and they died quite old, holding hands even in the end.”

  “You’re from the manual labor class?”

  “I am. I guess my grandfather was at one time a friend of Mr. Tim’s. He contacted Mr. Tim when I was four, after my mother died. I never knew my father. Mr. Tim paid for my education and training. He sponsored my entrance into government service. I’ve worked for him since.”

  “I never would have guessed,” Guardian said.

  “Everyone assumes I was born into this class.”

  “You carry yourself like you were. Look, I’m being summoned to hunt some bad men. God willing, I die in battle sometime soon. If not, I’ll make you a promise. Keep my men with food and water, and I’ll marry you if our paths ever cross,” he said. “I don’t starve, and you don’t die alone. Sound like a good plan?”

  “I don’t think either of us will live that long, but I’ll agree to your terms,” she replied with a laugh. “Be safe, and don’t be in the facility when the alarm rearms.”

  “
Will do. Guardian out.”

  Lana’s smile remained as she crossed the helipad towards the barracks. She tried not to think of the Guardian dying. He had been with her since the world began its plummet into chaos, and she hoped he remained at the other end of the network until the world righted itself. It was not likely for the paths of a soldier and a member of the political elite to cross paths, but he was the closest thing she had ever had to a friend since leaving her home at the age of four. Mr. Tim kept her too busy to allow her time to have her own life.

  Her stomach fluttered at the idea of her Guardian offering to marry her. He was brusque and candid, two traits she hadn’t yet gotten used to. She’d daydreamed of what he looked like. Even if their paths never crossed, his offer still made her feel special in a way she’d never had time to experience with another man.

  The net buzzed, and she tapped her implant to open her channel.

  “Lana.” General Greene’s gruff voice held a tense note.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Are you in the hub?”

  “No, sir. You sent me home,” she reminded him.

  “Someone’s in the hub, and it’s not me or you. You seen Arnie?”

  “No, sir.”

  “You may want to make your way back here. I think you’re the only one who knows how to fix anything that madman breaks.”

  Her heart dropped to her stomach, and she ran. She reached the command hub to find the general pacing in front while three guards waited a short distance from him. The doorframe was red, indicating it was locked. Out of breath, she waited for the general to speak.

  “You feel it?” General Greene asked. “I think he disabled the field.”

  She listened for the familiar thrum of energy over her breathing. It was gone.

  “It’s the least of my concerns,” the general mumbled, jabbing at the keypad. “But I am concerned about any other systems he decided to disable.”

  She pulled out her microcomputer and approached the door. The security system didn’t recognize her thumbprint. She maneuvered through the complex network systems available to her remotely.

  “Ready,” she breathed. “I’m disabling the power. We’ll have a few seconds to blast the door without affecting the rest of the networks.”

  The general signaled the three guards over and pulled her out of the way. The guards prepared their laser weaponry and waited. The light around the doorframe went dark, and the three opened fire. The screech of metal on metal drove her to cover her ears as she moved farther away. Sparks and blue fire erupted around the door until it glowed red. With a boom and a crunch, it folded in a cloud of smoke.

  The guards lowered their weapons.

  “You two, drag the commander out and wait here,” General Greene snapped. “Lana, see what’s broken.”

  She followed the two through the acrid smoke into the command hub. The commander was slumped over a workstation, out cold. One screen was a flash of colors and shapes. She went to the workstation monitoring the underground systems and saw with relief that the underground lair was functioning as normal. Her eyes strayed to the wall kept behind translucent, titanium-reinforced glass. Arnie knew the importance of the buttons and keypads behind that glass, but the wall looked secured. She dragged the unconscious commander to the floor and replaced him in the seat before the energy terminal, assessing the damage done.

  “We’ll have to post guards with the security system inoperable,” General Greene muttered as he stepped through the hole in the door. “What do we have?”

  “I don’t know what he was doing,” she replied, puzzled. “It looks like he was attempting to arm the remaining weapons systems in the East.”

  “Madman.”

  “He didn’t get far,” she said. “The specialist can fix it in the morning.”

  “How are they downstairs?”

  “All systems read normal. The only system error is … five sensors were tripped when the field was disengaged,” she murmured with a frown. “Two different locations. We have a possible infiltration.”

  “You stay here. Lock everything. I’ll post a guard. We’re going to have to search the compound.”

  Her hands flew over the keypads as she checked the networks for signs of tampering. She moved from station to station. She had a good working knowledge of the systems after her training and the two weeks up here, but she relied on the sector specialists to assess the systems for issues she didn’t know to look for. When she finished, she sat down at the station that was her specialty: communications. An alert popped up on the screen before her as well as on her micro, and she opened it.

  Hidden messages detected. Lana had never seen this error message before. Authorizing the computer to open the messages, she received another message, one saying they were encoded. The dates were all from the past week, and she recognized two of the originating net codes as being from Mr. Tim and General Greene.

  There was something odd about sending out messages that didn’t go through normal channels. She rubbed her face and considered ignoring her instinct, wanting to give the high-level government members the benefit of the doubt.

  Her instincts, however, insisted that she check into one of the messages. Lana programmed her micro quickly to mirror the messages and set it to work decrypting the encoding. She erased the error message.

  Coldness seeped into the command hub. Within the hour, guards returned with a sheet of heavy metal to brace the disabled door. Two posted guard outside while two more rigged the repaired door to open and close.

  “I rotated out of the dungeon for this?”

  Elise’s voice pulled Lana from her work. Lana twisted, grimacing when her neck cramped with the simple movement. Sunlight streamed in through the propped door.

  “I had a feeling this week would be rough,” Elise said with a smile. She sat near the door, weapons slung across her back. “Greenie’s got us searching under every rock. Looks like you had a rough night, too.”

  Elise held out a meal bar, which Lana accepted. She retrieved her microcomputer with the other hand and checked the supply store she granted the Guardian access to. True to his word, he’d removed little from the storage facility. She allowed a tired smile before returning the computer to her pocket. At least there was one good man outside the Peak, despite the constant stream of bad news about how crazy all the survivors were.

  “Lana, get your anti-sleepers and meet me in the commander’s quarters,” General Greene called, poking his head into the hub. “We’ve got work to do. “

  Without a word, she obeyed.