Survivors of PEACE

by T. A. Hernandez

  “He’s Dodge. He keeps acting like none of this bothers him, but he’s clearly distracted, and he beats the crap out of the punching bags in the training room every morning.”

  “And Celeste?”

  She winced. The fact that they still hadn’t found Cedric’s killer was just salt in an open wound. “Nothing new. Sorry.”

  “I’m sure you’re doing everything you can.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to tell her that capturing Ryku was the bigger priority right now, which meant that was where most of their energy and resources were focused. She suspected Nova knew that already, anyway.

  “It’s Election Day tomorrow.”

  Zira nodded, grateful for the change of subject. “He would have been so excited.”

  “I’m going to show up early, try to be the first person in line to vote.” Her lips spread in a poor excuse for a smile. “You should come. All of you.”

  With everything else going on, Zira hadn’t given much thought to the specifics of when or even if she would participate in the country’s first presidential election in decades. But Nova’s request was a simple one, and if honoring their fallen comrade that way would help her heal from losing him, Zira was more than willing to do it. “Of course. I’ll tell everyone. We’ll be there.”

  Nova sighed and shifted forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “I still just can’t believe he’s gone. I keep wanting to call him and tell him how awful this feels, then I catch myself and remember I can’t because he’s not here anymore. It just…” Her voice cracked, and she paused to collect herself before continuing. “It’s not fair.”

  “I know.”

  Again, Nova fell silent for a few moments and stared down at her open palms. “I loved him.” Her voice was low and quiet. “I wish he would have known, but I was never brave enough to tell him. Now I never will.”

  “I’m sure he knew you cared.”

  “Yeah, but…. Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “Whatever Josefina’s cooking up there smells pretty good.”

  Zira took advantage of the opportunity to convince her to leave the room. “You hungry?”

  “A little.”

  “You want to go up and eat something? Tripp even made cookies.”

  Nova slid off the bed and headed for the door. Before she reached it, she turned to Zira. “Hey, um…thanks.”

  Zira wasn’t sure she’d been much help, but she nodded anyway. “If you need anything else, just let me know, okay? Anything at all. I mean it.”

  She’d never been much good at comforting people or even just sitting with them in their pain, but the sentiment felt like something Aubreigh would have expressed. Maybe, just maybe, that meant it was the right thing to say.

  * * *

  Election Day dawned bright and clear after the previous night’s rain. Even though it was still early when Zira’s team met on the steps of Liberation’s judicial center to cast their vote, a short line had already formed. A brightly colored banner hand-painted by local schoolchildren hung above the entrance proclaiming, “Vote here!” Those who had already done their civic duty left the building in animated conversation with each other and cast friendly glances at those about to take their turn.

  “This is exactly how he would have pictured it,” Nova said to Zira as they led the others through the doors of the judicial center.

  “He would have loved it,” Zira agreed.

  They didn’t have to wait long to cast their votes. For Zira, the decision was an easy one. Angela Yang may not have been perfect, but she’d gained valuable leadership experience under pressure in her former position with the rebels, and she wasn’t afraid to make tough decisions to keep her people safe. She seemed like the sort of person who could carry the country through what was proving to be a difficult transition period.

  Once they were all finished, they headed to work. To Zira’s pleasant surprise, Nova accompanied them. News broadcasts from across the country played on displays throughout the office, though the volume was kept low to prevent undue distractions. Zira glanced up from her work periodically to check the latest reports on the nearest broadcast in her view, which showed Trinity Jones at a large polling center in Amarillo near the PEACE Project’s former headquarters. Election Day didn’t make for the most eventful news story, but it was a historic occasion nonetheless, and a silver lining the country desperately needed. Everything the Republic had worked for was finally taking shape. The constitution ratified just months earlier had provided the blueprint, but now they were actually building their new America.

  It was exactly the sort of occasion that gave the PRM a reason to strike.

  The first attack came shortly after noon in a busy, metropolitan area in the North Central region. Zira was fully absorbed in her work when a man at the other end of the office yelped and jumped up from his chair. He seemed lost for words and instead just pointed to the display directly in front of him with wide eyes.

  Zira couldn’t see the display well from this angle, so she glanced back at Trinity’s broadcast instead. The reporter stopped talking and reached a hand to her ear as if trying to pick up on what someone was saying over her earpiece. Creases formed between her eyebrows and around her mouth, and when she looked back into the camera, the severity in her expression was a sharp contrast to her usual bubbly demeanor. “I’ve just received word of a massive explosion in the North Central region. And…now it seems there’s been another one in Austin.”

  Zira stood up and scanned the office. Nearly everyone was standing now, their eyes glued to the projectors all around them. Five broadcasts from five different cities now showed signs of an attack—smoke and debris, people running in all directions, lopsided shots from damaged news drones lying on the ground.

  Another blast sounded from a broadcast somewhere off to her right, barely audible but unmistakable nonetheless. Make that six attacks, at least. It had been less than a minute.

  Trinity remained in front of the camera, visibly shaken but still reporting as new information came to her. Behind her, the people waiting to cast their votes continued to converse and laugh and cast impatient glances at those in front of them, completely oblivious to what was going on.

  Five seconds later, a deep rumble sounded, and Trinity’s camera drone flew back several feet as if swatted by giant, invisible hand. When it steadied itself, she was picking herself up from the ground, and everything behind her was dust and screaming and running.

  A woman several workstations away from Zira cried out. “The judicial center! They hit the judicial center!”

  “What, here?” Alma said. She strode over to the woman’s workstation quickly and bent to look at the local broadcast playing on her display. Her entire body tensed as she slowly stood up and looked around at all of them. For a few seconds, everyone in the office fell silent.

  “There’s a lot of damage,” Alma said. “Our first responders are going to have their hands full. I’m not sure how dangerous the situation is, so I won’t order you to go, but I’m sure anyone who wants to help would be welcome.”

  Salim started for the elevators before Alma had even finished speaking, followed closely by Zira and the rest of her team. More SIO operatives quickly joined them while others made their way to the stairs. By the time the elevator doors closed on the tightly-packed group inside, not a single person remained at their workstation.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Chaos. That was the only word Jared could think of to describe the scene at the judicial center when they arrived. Complete and utter chaos.

  They found a place to park the van on what seemed to be the outskirts of the tumult, and upon exiting the vehicle, they all took a moment to survey the scene before them to determine the best way to proceed. Ambulances, police cars, and fire trucks came and went, transporting injured people to the nearest hospital with sirens blaring. Several firemen were just finishing putting up a pair of large canopies off to one side of the
area, and people had already started to gather underneath. They accepted the water bottles two policemen passed out with vacant expressions.

  Further in, the chaos only intensified. The front half of the judicial building, including the lobby where the polling stations had been set up, now lay in a pile of debris on the ground. There were injured people everywhere, some sitting in shocked silence and some crying out in pain and fear. Paramedics carried them away from the site on stretchers, but there were still so many. And so many bodies, which were being transported in pairs to an unseen location on the other side of the building’s remains.

  “What do we do?” Dodge asked, pushing up his sleeves.

  Zira shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe we can help with transporting people or…I don’t know. Let’s just get out there. If you can, find someone who looks like they’re in charge and ask what they need.”

  They dispersed. Jared immediately headed for the collapsed structure and spotted a man in a medical uniform doing CPR on a woman who lay sprawled out on the grass. Behind them, a boy who couldn’t have been older than six sat on a chunk of wall, wailing. Tears streaked down his face, and blood dripped from the wheel of a toy truck he clutched to his chest. He had the same dense, corkscrew curls as the woman on the ground, probably his mother.

  Jared made his way over to the boy and crouched in front of him, blocking his view of the woman as the medical worker continued trying to resuscitate her. “Hey there, little man,” he said softly.

  The boy’s eyes widened as he regarded Jared with a mixture of fear and curiosity. His wailing subsided to quieter sobs that shook his thin frame.

  “My name’s Jared.” He tried to see where the blood dripping from the truck was coming from. The right sleeve of the boy’s jacket was torn, and blood had seeped into the fabric from his wrist to his elbow. At this angle, he couldn’t see the injury to assess how bad it was. “I’m going to help you, and that man over there is going to help your mom, and we’re all going to be fine. I just need you to be brave for me, okay?”

  The boy sniffled again, then nodded.

  “Okay. Could I see your truck for a minute? I’ll give it right back.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, the boy handed over the toy. “Mama gave it to me.”

  “Did she?” Jared made a show of admiring it for a few seconds. “I need to get myself one of these. I’m just going to set it right here for now, okay? What’s your name, little man?”

  “Andre.”

  “Andre. That’s a brave name. We need to take off your jacket, okay Andre?”

  The boy started removing his jacket. He winced a little as he tried to pull his right arm out of his sleeve. Jared helped him and examined the laceration that ran down his tiny forearm. It didn’t look too deep, and the blood was already starting to clot.

  He turned around to the paramedic, who was still doing chest compressions on Andre’s mother. “I’m going to grab a bandage out of your bag.”

  “Sure,” the man grunted.

  Jared unzipped the bag beside him and pulled out a few gauze pads and a roll of bright green wrap to hold them in place. He also took the unopened bottle of water lying on the ground. As he closed the bag, he leaned closer to the paramedic to ask a question in a voice low enough that Andre wouldn’t hear. “You think she’s going to make it?”

  The paramedic’s arms continued to pump the woman’s chest at a steady rhythm. Sweat glistened on his forehead. “Don’t know,” he said breathlessly. “Hope so.”

  Jared turned back to Andre. He was staring down at the cut on his arm and had started crying again.

  “Hey now. Andre’s a brave name, remember? You can be brave. Don’t look at it, okay? Just look right at me.”

  The boy sucked in his bottom lip to stop himself from crying.

  “There we go. That’s better. You just keep looking at me.” He poured some water over the cut, which made the boy shudder. “You’re okay. It’s just a little cold. Now look, we’re just going to put this on top here, and then I’m going to wrap it up with this green tape. Just like that. And now you’re all done.”

  Andre looked down at the green wrap covering his forearm, then back up at Jared. “Is Mama okay?”

  He wasn’t sure how to answer, but he didn’t want to lie to the boy and pretend everything was going to be okay, because what if it wasn’t? “Right now, we just need to let this man do his job. Do you think you can come with me? We’re just going to go right over there to those tents and wait.”

  Andre craned his neck in the direction Jared pointed. He looked skeptical. “I want to stay with Mama.”

  “I know, but I think we should call someone and let them know what happened. Right? Maybe your dad, or your grandma and grandpa. You can bring your truck.” He picked it up and held it out.

  Andre considered this for a few seconds, then nodded and stood up. He wrapped one arm around the truck and raised his free hand. Jared took hold of it, his fingers completely enveloping the boy’s.

  As they made their way through the crowd to the white canopies, he spotted Josefina standing next to a group of young children. He headed straight for her and called out her name. She turned, and her eyes immediately darted to the boy at his side. “That’s my friend,” Jared explained to Andre as they drew closer. “She’s really nice, and I bet she can help you call your family.”

  “Separated from his parents?” Josefina asked.

  Jared shook his head. “A paramedic’s working on his mom.”

  Josefina’s expression darkened. “He might as well wait here with me and the rest of the kids.”

  “His name is Andre. And he’s been very brave.”

  “Are you going to go check on my mama?”

  “I can, if you want. But you need to stay here.”

  “Okay.”

  He passed the boy’s hand to Josefina, then turned around and headed back for the rubble. When he reached the spot where he’d met Andre, there was no one there. Had he gone to the wrong place? He looked around frantically and finally spotted the paramedic from earlier.

  “Hey,” he called out, heading towards the man. “What happened to Andre’s mom?”

  The paramedic kept walking. “Who?”

  “The woman you were just working on. With the little boy. Is she okay?”

  He shook his head. “No, sorry. I did everything I could. She’s gone.”

  Jared stopped walking and let the paramedic go on alone. He didn’t have the heart to go back and give Andre the life-shattering news that his mother was dead. Someone else would tell him later, hopefully in a quiet place, surrounded by family who loved him instead of strangers and chaos.

  He clenched his jaw. They were monsters, all of them. Ryku, Mallory, the PRM, whatever cold-blooded person had set up the explosives at this specific location. Only monsters would orchestrate this level of senseless violence in the name of furthering their own agenda. Only monsters would intentionally kill the innocent people who stood in their path.

  But Ryku had always been like that. Jared just hadn’t wanted to see it. Why had it taken him so long to open his eyes?

  He bowed his head and took two long, deep breaths. Then he squared his shoulders and turned back to the ruins of the judicial building.

  There was nothing he could do now but move on to the next person and help repair some of the damage his former mentor had caused.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  They remained at the scene until almost midnight. By that time, the dead had all been carried away, and the injured had been tended to or sent to the hospital to receive more extensive care. A new rotation of rescue workers had insisted that everyone else take a break and allow them to finish whatever work was left. Zira’s team had been scattered in the chaos, but one way or another, they all eventually made it back to the National Security Department building. She waited until they’d all come in. Their haggard faces and blank eyes told the haunting story of the day’s many tragedies.

&nbs
p; Zira, Tripp, and Jared rode home together as usual while Nova opted to return to Josefina’s house for one last night. They didn’t say a word to each other on the drive, and Zira stared at the window to her left without really focusing on anything outside.

  How could this have happened? Was Ryku the mastermind behind it all, or had the PRM already been planning this before his escape? He had always been ruthless, but never on a scale like this.

  Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had executed a substantial portion of the prison population when he was sole chairman of the PEACE Project. But this mass destruction of civilian lives—Zira almost couldn’t believe he would resort to something like that. If he wanted to be America’s leader again, if he wanted to restore the Project, what good did it do to kill so many people?

  She knew the answer before she even finished the thought. Ryku had always believed power came from fear. During the entirety of his short-lived stint as a dictator, he’d worked hard to sow fear in the hearts of his citizens. Fear of radicals, fear of one’s own neighbors, fear of harsh penalties for breaking the law. This attack proved he was still a force to be feared, especially for those who chose to follow the Republic. Because that was what this was about, in his mind. It had to be. Those who chose to go along with the Republic’s plan and vote for a new president were rejecting the idea that the PEACE Project would ever govern the country again. Ryku would see that as treason, a threat to be eliminated. And if a few innocent people had to die in the process, that was just the necessary cost of restoring his America.

  Zira’s stomach churned, and for what must have been the hundredth time that day, she wished she had succeeded in killing the former chairman when she’d had the chance. She wished Chase hadn’t been so principled and self-righteous in his decision not to have him executed. She wished she knew where he was now so she could rectify that mistake before he did any more damage.