Revolutionary

by Krista McGee

  The ground shakes, and I look out toward the Scientists’ quarters and see what appears to be a crowd of people walking this way. I stand and squint—it is Loudin with several guards, a dozen or more. All to capture me?

  As he gets closer, Loudin slows. Wiping the debris from my pants, I peer between the guards. I see Rhen and Alex. Berk. Loudin has brought them all here. Why?

  “I offered you so much.” Loudin stops six feet away from me. “The opportunity to use your talents in the State, beside me, to be a world leader. Yet you chose again and again to defy me.”

  “Let them go.” I continue to look past him to my friends.

  “Oh, I plan to.” Loudin smiles. “I am letting them go above. Right now.”

  “No!” I will not allow them to be killed by the nuclear bombs. I cannot.

  “Which is it?” Loudin takes a step closer. “Let them go or don’t let them go? You seem to be confused.”

  My pulse is pounding in my ears, a steady beat, beat, beat, like a metronome. The rhythm steadies me, clears my mind. God, help me! That is all I can pray. I hope it is enough.

  My gaze drops to Loudin’s waist.

  I see the weapon that killed Kristie. I have felt its power in my own body. Intense pain, immense power. Loudin has used that weapon to control us. He will use it again.

  Unless I use it first.

  Loudin sees where my gaze has gone as well. “This is for you. For after your friends have gone. I want you to watch them go, to watch the world you love so much disintegrate before your eyes. Then if you remain rebellious, I will use this on you. If, however, you change your mind, I will spare you.”

  “I’d rather die than be like you.”

  “So be it.” Loudin motions to the guards surrounding Rhen, Alex, and Berk. He points above. The directive is clear.

  Berk tries to push through the guards, but he is held back, his arms pinned behind him. The guards surround the threesome, each holding the arms of the one in front of him, pushing them together so none of them can move. They cannot escape. The guards move in unison, pushing my friends toward the doors of the Scientists’ quarters—and from there, above.

  The clock counting down the time to the detonation of the nuclear weapons fills my mind. The seconds tick with every beat of my heart. I have to do something. I have to stop this. I look back at the reservoirs.

  A flash of blue in the distance makes me turn around. James. He has a weapon, and he is directing it at the group of guards. They are falling.

  I lunge toward Loudin, using the momentary distraction to pull the weapon from his belt. It feels cool and heavy in my hands. This weapon destroyed my grandmother. Can it also destroy the State?

  I need time to think this through, to talk to the others. But I don’t have time and neither do they. I close my eyes and pray for the strength to do what must be done. Because I am sure of one thing: either the State destroys the world, or I destroy the State.

  I depress the panel on the side and it hums in my hand. Loudin reaches for me, but I turn, evading his grasp. With everything I have in me, I plant the weapon on the side of the reservoir.

  At first nothing happens. I lean harder against the concrete, my hand almost numb with the effort. Loudin is pulling at me, and I put my other hand on the weapon, curling my body around it so he cannot reach it.

  Thankfully Loudin is weak—I can fight him off as easily I could a child. Keeping my torso against the weapon, I use my legs to kick at Loudin, aiming for his kneecaps. His hands yank at my shoulders. His desperation to pull me away gives me hope that this plan might work.

  Finally the reservoir begins to shake. Loudin gives up his attempts to pull me away on his own and renews his calls for the guards.

  As his hands leave my shoulders, he screams, “Stop him.”

  Is he talking about Berk? Alex? James? I want to know what is going on behind me. But I cannot look. I have to stay where I am and hope the others have gotten away from the guards, that they see what I am doing and are giving me time to complete the task.

  The reverberations are going up my arm and making it difficult to keep the weapon trained on the concrete. But I must. I cannot let go. I cannot fail. I close my eyes and imagine myself away from here, on a hill in New Hope, playing my violin, surrounded by my friends. The thought renews my strength and I lean harder against the concrete.

  I hear a loud noise and I open my eyes. A crack! There is a crack in the concrete and it is racing up, up, up the reservoir, getting wider as it gets longer. Water begins to trickle, then spills out.

  I pull away from the concrete and run to the next reservoir. I can do this. I can flood the State, disable the nuclear warheads. I can stop Loudin.

  He is at my heels again, but no guards are pursuing me. I look over my shoulder. Every one of them lies on the ground. James holds the weapon out to Alex, and Alex runs to the final reservoir. He leans the weapon against the reservoir.

  “Push as hard as you can,” I call out to him. With a swift kick to Loudin’s shins, I send the older man to the ground. I use the time to turn around and locate James, Rhen, and Berk.

  They are searching the guards for more weapons.

  “Run! Alex and I can take care of this. Get everyone out of here, get them above. Hurry.”

  The integrity of the reservoirs is already compromised. It won’t take long for the strength of the water to overcome the strength of the concrete. Then the entire State will flood.

  Most of the others leave, but Berk remains. He is searching for something to use against Loudin. But there is nothing he can use. Rhen pulls him toward the Scientists’ quarters.

  “Go,” I yell. “Go now.”

  Berk pulls against Rhen, but she forces him away. I release a breath. He will be safe.

  “You will not destroy what I created.” Loudin is back up and at my neck now, his fingers squeezing my throat. If I let go of the weapon to fight him, he will grab it. That is not an option. I lean harder into the concrete.

  “Thalli.” Alex is beside me, the weapon at his waist. His hands work to pry Loudin’s fingers from my throat.

  “Kill him,” I croak out.

  “He’s too close to you.” Alex’s face is red with the effort. Where did Loudin’s burst of strength come from? “If I shoot him, the current will go through you too.”

  “Do it.” My life is not worth Loudin’s victory.

  “Enough.” Loudin releases me and reaches for Alex’s weapon. His movement is so fast, Alex has no time to react, no time to stop him.

  Loudin holds the weapon against Alex’s neck and glares at me, his eyes bloodshot and cold. “Give me your weapon and put your hands up, or I will kill him right now.”

  I do as Loudin says, despite Alex’s pleas to let him die. I cannot. The damage has been done. The reservoirs have been broken. The State will flood. Loudin cannot stop that.

  Loudin pulls his communications pad out. “I need everyone here now, with the strongest sealing compound we have. Do you understand me?” Loudin jams the weapon deeper into Alex’s neck. “This is not over.”

  Alex yanks the weapon down so it sits in the space between his and Loudin’s chest. “Yes, it is.”

  Before my brain even has time to register what Alex is doing, he has pressed the panel on the weapon.

  Blue light flashes between them, striking both Alex and Loudin in the heart. Both men are shaking, electricity coursing through them. Killing them.

  “Alex, stop! Please turn it off! Please.”

  He just looks at me and smiles—a smile full of peace.

  My eyes are so full of tears that I can see nothing for several seconds. The sound of water rushing around us fills my ears. It is getting closer, covering the ground behind us. Time seems to have stopped. I feel like I am already drowning. And, for a moment, I don’t even want to try to save myself.

  I rub my eyes, make myself watch what is happening. Alex needs to know I am here. I cannot abandon him.

  The two me
n have fallen to the ground, their bodies rigid. The blue light creates an eerie glow around them. Loudin’s eyes have rolled back into his head, and his mouth is open, frozen in a scream. Alex is still alive, still pressing that button, making absolutely sure Loudin is gone.

  After what seems like hours, the blue light turns off, and Alex falls to the side, barely breathing.

  I am on my knees beside him.

  “Don’t touch.” His voice is a whisper, and his eyes look the way Kristie’s did right before she died. “Run.”

  “I can’t leave you here.” I put a hand toward him, but even a few inches away, I feel the electricity on him. In him.

  “It’s all right.” Alex smiles and my heart breaks. “Death is only the beginning, remember?”

  I sit on the ground next to him, water pouring down my back, spilling onto the ground, soaking Alex’s and my clothing. I don’t stop looking into his eyes until they no longer look back at me.

  I close my eyes and allow tears to spill down my cheeks over this man who lost so much, overcame so much, sacrificed so much. I want to carry him back, to bury him among his people in Athens. But I cannot.

  I hear an explosion—part of the reservoir above me shatters, and concrete falls two feet from where I am sitting. Water pours down with such force I can barely stand under it.

  In the distance, running toward me, is Berk. He is screaming my name, demanding that I get up and run to him. Escape.

  I force myself to stand and I run as hard as I can, as fast as I can, until I leave the State—and Alex—behind. Forever.

  EPILOGUE

  Six Months Later

  I am sitting at the piano in the church that John restored, in the village where I met Kristie, sixty miles from the town Alex should have ruled.

  I still grieve for each of them, ache for the hole their loss has left in my heart, in my life.

  I play their lives, the lessons they taught me, the sacrifices they made. The Designer uses music to speak to me, as always, and he also uses music to bring healing, a salve to my broken heart. As my fingers caress the keys, play these memories, my pain is replaced with joy. Not joy at the loss. Never that. But a joy in spite of the loss.

  Each life, each death, brought me here—brought us here. They neither lived nor died in vain. As I look up from the piano, I see the church full of people—those from New Hope and those from Athens, members of the State who escaped with us. People who are here because John, Kristie, and Alex are not.

  The State no longer exists. Every inch of it is underwater, all the Scientists’ work—gone. I am sorry for that. But the nuclear bombs are gone, and I am not sorry for that. Rhen, Berk, and James were able to get all of Pod B out. The Scientists refused. They stayed behind and ended up buried under water, dying for what they had lived for.

  The world can start over now. People like those here in this church can be free to live in the world above. We will make mistakes . . . we are not perfect. But we will live. My gratefulness for that is in the melody I play.

  I finish and Gerald comes to the front. He has taken over John’s role, speaking to us from the Designer’s book. I sit beside Berk and his hand wraps around mine. I am home.

  My gaze scans the crowd. Those who chose to follow us out of the State are slowly adjusting to life here. All of them have found ways to use their abilities to help, either here in New Hope or over in Athens. They are discovering emotions, as Rhen did, and learning to embrace the freedom they have here.

  James is teaching at the school, training the next generation. The people of the State are making this world better, stronger. They are accomplishing their purposes. Some have even expressed an interest in taking the aircraft to the other pockets of survivors to learn more about them, to find ways to work together.

  When we first arrived, I went to Athens, gathered the people, and told them of Alex’s death. They were devastated, of course, but I told them of his heroic acts, of how his ultimate sacrifice saved all of us. Some of the artists are sculpting a statue in his honor. I promised them I would make sure he was never forgotten, and together we all promised not to treat lightly the gift he gave us.

  They wanted me to take Alex’s place—they still see me as his fiancée and, thus, heir to the throne. And for his memory and out of love for him, I do not correct them. But I do not want to be a ruler. I suggested Rhen and Dallas rule Athens. Together they are wise and compassionate and perfectly suited to help Athens recover from the damage inflicted on them by King Jason and his father. Though they were reluctant, the people of Athens convinced them to step into the role, not of king and queen, but as governors—rulers who seek to represent the desires of the people, to oversee but not overwhelm.

  Carey is not here at the church, but he is alive, recovering from what Fluor, a survivor from Pod B, diagnosed as a stroke. Thanks to Fluor’s expertise in medicine, Carey has a good chance of recovering.

  Dallas’s childhood home is being rebuilt, though his parents have moved to Athens to be with Rhen and him. The memories here are just too painful for them to be able to remain. So Berk and I will live there, on the farm with the horses and the orange trees. We will, hopefully, raise our children there and teach them about the world that was and the world that could be. We will teach them of the Designer, of love, of the purpose he has given each of them. We will raise the next generation in a world completely different from ours.

  Gerald finishes, and I return to the piano. My fingers play the message he spoke, the Words of the Designer that we read. I play the hope that I feel. I crescendo with the expectation of a world full of possibilities.

  And the music never ends.

  READING GROUP GUIDE

  1. Thalli felt that the Designer was very distant from her throughout much of this book. Do you think that’s true? Have you ever had times in your life when you felt “ignored” by God? How did you work through those times?

  2. What was your reaction to the news about Thalli’s parentage? Did you suspect that connection?

  3. Compare Kristie’s death in this book to John’s in Luminary. What were the similarities? Differences?

  4. As you got to know Dr. Loudin more in this story, what were your thoughts about him? Tragic hero or pure villain?

  5. Do you think Thalli made the right choice between the two young men vying for her heart? Why or why not?

  6. How different do you think the story would have been had John still been alive?

  7. How has Thalli changed from the beginning of Anomaly to the end of Revolutionary?

  8. Which character do you most identify with and why?

  9. If you could change any part of this book, what would it be?

  10. What do you think life will be like for Thalli and the others? What would the next chapter of that story look like?

  An Excerpt from Right Where I Belong by Krista McGee

  Chapter 1

  I am leaving your stepmother.”

  “Let me guess.” Seventeen-year-old Natalia did not fall for the woe-is-me, martyred expression on her father’s face. Not again, anyway. “She is not making you happy. You’ve found someone else. Life is too short to be tied down to one woman.”

  “Natalia Ruth Montoya Lopez! You do not speak to your papa in that tone of voice.”

  Shame clawed at Natalia’s stomach. He’s right. Help me, Jesus. What do I say to him?

  Natalia inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry. But you keep leaving all the women in your life. How do I know you will not leave me too?”

  Papa turned Natalia toward him, his face softening. “Hija. I will never leave you. You are my daughter. My flesh and blood. But women are different. You are young and you don’t understand. You fall in love and you fall out of love. Nothing can be done about that. It is part of life.”

  “So this is what I have to look forward to? Falling in love with a man and then having him tell me a few years later that he doesn’t love me anymore? What about ‘till death do us part’? Doesn’t that mean anyt
hing?” Natalia hated the anger that kept bubbling up, but she didn’t know how to stop it.

  “For some it does, mi corazón. Your grandparents were married for forty-seven years. And they were truly happy. I have often wondered if something is wrong with me. I just cannot seem to keep that feeling. I try . . .”

  “Oh, Papa, please. You do not try. I have seen this, now, three times.”

  “Natalia!”

  She held up one finger. “Mamá—I was four. I can still remember the yelling. I would hide under my bed with the door shut and still hear the two of you.”

  “That woman had a temper.” He looked out the window. “You didn’t know the half of it.”

  “Yes, I do! I’m not saying she was perfect, but neither were you. And if either one of you had just accepted that fact, you might still be together.”

  Papa turned around, opening his mouth to speak, but Natalia held up two fingers and continued. “Isabelle never did anything to you. She was like a slave: cooking, cleaning, cowering in fear. I remember she’d take little Ari outside in the middle of the night just so her crying wouldn’t wake you. And you kept her around for how long? Three years?”

  He sighed. “Isabelle. No man can handle such a timid woman. It was nice for a while. A nice change from your mother’s yelling. But then . . . there was no passion. A man cannot live without passion, hija. It was her own fault. I cannot help being a man and having a man’s needs.”

  The image of her father and his “needs” rushed in full color into her brain, and Natalia tried not to gag. “And now we come to number three. Maureen.” Natalia stood inches from him. “I think she was the best one yet. She left her home and her family. Moving from the United States to Spain was not easy. Yet she did it. She learned the language, she adapted to our culture, and still you reject her.”