Awaken

by Katie Kacvinsky

  “They’re containing all the protesters so they don’t get in the way of the cameras,” Scott pointed out.

  “Very clever,” Molly said.

  “Why would they go to all the trouble to stage this?” I asked.

  “To make society think everyone loves DS. You’re a lot less likely to rebel against something when you think you’re all alone,” Scott pointed out.

  As we got closer, we could hear my father’s voice carried through the speakers mounted around the stage. I stared at him, humiliated that he could go along with such a blatant lie. It was all an act. And he knew it. He knew, yet he was still going through with it. He was a liar and a coward.

  I looked over at the protesters. “How many people do you think are in there?” I asked.

  Scott looked down on his monitor for a second. “About four hundred,” he said.

  I started to cross the street toward the park and headed straight for the security guard standing at the entrance of the gate. Clare grabbed my arm.

  “Wait? What if your dad sees you?”

  My eyes were wild as I scanned the crowd of protesters.

  “I don’t care. We need to get them out of there.” I turned back and looked at Clare and Riley. “Listen, I need to do this by myself. There’s no point in sticking together in case I get caught. I can’t handle being responsible for all of you getting arrested in one day.” I looked at Riley. “Why don’t you figure out a way to get us out of here if this does work by some miracle?”

  Riley nodded and said he’d hang back by the car. He put a cell phone in my hand.

  “Justin will know what to do if you get him out,” he told me.

  I nodded and put the phone in my pocket. I looked at Clare but she shook her head and met my eyes stubbornly.

  “I’m coming with you,” she said. “You can’t do this all by yourself.” I knew she wouldn’t back down so instead of wasting time arguing, I started to cross the street.

  “Good luck,” Riley called after us.

  Clare and I crouched low behind a row of thick bushes to hide the best we could. My dad’s back was to us as he talked out to the imaginary crowd. There were two security guards standing in front of the electric fence, one on either side. I squatted down and shrugged off the backpack.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t stormed a lot of press conferences and tried to break through electric security gates.”

  “Maybe you could hack into the conference security and see if you can shut off the electric fence?” Clare offered.

  I shook my head. “We don’t have time for that,” I said. “Besides, I’m sure Scott’s tried already.” I thought back to what Justin had said. How to take people by surprise by not depending on technology.

  My father’s voice boomed out around us as he began his closing statements. His voice always grew louder when he was drawing to a close. His exit to all of his speeches was to startle. To shock. To keep people faithful to his institution.

  I peered around the edge of the shrub at one of the security guards. He was kicking the ground under his feet and looked more bored than intimidating. I scanned the people locked inside the fence, but I couldn’t make out Justin or Pat. There had to be a way to shut off the gates. I glanced back at the security guard. He looked about my age, tall and lean. I smiled when an idea took shape.

  “Let’s do this the old-fashioned way,” I said. I peeled off my jacket and stuffed it inside the backpack. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and raked my fingers through, to make it fall long around me.

  “What are you doing?” Clare asked. I looked back at Clare’s large, quizzical eyes and hoped this would work.

  “You take the security guard closer to the stage,” I told her.

  “Take him?” she asked.

  “Distract him,” I said. “Just give me thirty seconds, that’s all I need. Keep his eyes off of that fence for thirty seconds.”

  “That’s your plan?” she asked, and I nodded. She looked over at the guard and back at me. “How do I distract him?” she said.

  “Flirt with him,” I said. “Flash him. I don’t care. Use your female powers of persuasion.” Clare grinned, catching on to my idea.

  “Maddie,” she said before she turned away. Her face was serious. “Be careful. If anything happened to you, Justin would . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Just don’t let anything happen to you. Promise?”

  I nodded and promised her I’d be fine. I ushered her forward and pulled the backpack over my shoulders. We inched our way closer to the open turf grass, toward the barricade.

  My heart was pounding in my chest. I could just make out the back of my father’s head over the bodyguards that lined up behind him. Cameras were flashing. Standing there, I finally realized what effect my father had over me. It wasn’t control. It wasn’t intimidation. It was fear. Fear because my father, the one person who should love me no matter what, chose to confine me, to limit me. He created a world full of lies yet he asked me to trust him. And now, standing so close to him, I realized what I feared the most. If my father had to choose who he was loyal to, digital school or his own family, what would his choice be? The fact that I couldn’t answer this question made me want to crumble right there, in the middle of the scene.

  Instead, I tried to shift my anger into inspiration. Justin was right. Maybe I was here to be a balance. To keep my father in check. Maybe I was the only person brave enough to stand up to him. After all, fear is what fuels you to survive.

  “Remember,” my dad shouted. “Digital school is the cure to this country’s issues of instability, insecurity, and inequality.”

  Clare and I ducked low behind a tall marble fountain, just on the other side of the fence.

  “Under the digital school system,” he shouted, “we are all equal. There are no more social distinctions. We are all the same. And that’s the way life is intended.”

  I took a deep breath and prayed this would work.

  “We all have the same rights,” he shouted. “We all have the same chances. We all can succeed.” He took long pauses between each sentence to leave time for his fictional fans to cheer.

  I nodded for Clare to go and watched her from behind the fountain. She approached the security guard, who turned his back to the fence in order to talk to her. Once she had his full attention, I sauntered up to the other guard standing by the front gate. He raised his eyebrows when he noticed me and I offered him a wide smile.

  “In a world where the future is unknown, let this be known—DS IS FREEDOM,” my dad’s voice rang out.

  I could hear the buzzing from the electronic fence. The security guard cleared his throat.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice coarse. I smiled again.

  “I have a huge favor,” I said, and tossed my hair over one shoulder. His mouth relaxed a little. He pushed his sunglasses up on his forehead and his brown eyes looked me up and down. I took a step closer.

  “What’s that?” he asked with interest.

  I twirled a piece of hair around my finger and smiled.

  “DS IS EDUCATION AT ITS BEST,” my dad’s voice circled around me, like he was yelling right at me.

  “I need you to do something for me,” I teased. He grinned and his rigid shoulders settled and I knew I had him.

  “Well, that depends what it is,” he said.

  I reached my fingers out and he lifted his hand high enough for me to grab it. His body jumped from the shock of the hand taser. He stumbled over to the ground, his eyes wide with surprise. I bent down and unclipped the holster around his waist, grabbing his gun.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I just can’t have you messing this up right now.” I aimed and fired a shot into his shoulder. The gun released a tiny syringe that pierced his skin and knocked him out. His body went limp on the grass.

  I turned to the gates, my heart racing.

  “DS IS PEACE,” my dad shouted to the crowd. I stared up
at my father and narrowed my eyes. I grabbed the guard’s arm and pressed his fingers against an emergency release switch. The sensor registered his prints and opened the gates.

  The electric fence snapped off with a loud crackle and instantly a moving wave of people flooded out. An alarm wailed through the air. I covered my hands over my years to muffle the piercing noise and tried to back away as people sprinted around me. My dad’s head snapped around at the sea of people moving through the gate like water breaking through a dam. I saw a guard grab my father and drag him off of the stage, toward a security ZipShuttle. The photographers snapped pictures as rioters picked up the signs and banners lying in a heap next to the gates and stormed the steps. I was knocked over in the stampede. Shots rang out and people screamed, pushing and shoving each other. More shots. More screams. Legs and feet pummeled over and around me, stomping me to get to the stage. As I fought with all my strength to stand up, a hand grabbed me and yanked me off the ground.

  I looked up at Justin and held on to his hand as we were pushed along with the moving crowd.

  “What are you doing here?” he yelled over the noise. He looked furious. “Who sent you here?”

  “I sent me,” I yelled, and I tried to keep hold of his hand as we were pushed and pulled in separate directions.

  “You shouldn’t have risked it,” he yelled back. I tightened my lips together. Leave it to Justin to be protective right now.

  “I couldn’t let you get arrested.”

  He looked down at me and his eyes were raging. “Don’t worry about me. You’re too important.”

  “No, you’re too important.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  I gasped when a photographer elbowed me in the stomach. Justin shoved the photographer out of the way and pulled me tight to his side.

  “Is this really the time to argue?” I asked when I got my voice back.

  We continued to yell as we were pushed and shoved along. I tripped and Justin had to pull me up again before the stampede pummeled me. We reached the edge of the park and both turned back for a second to take in the scene. His angry features finally softened. He pointed to the mob of people in front of us.

  “See what I mean about an avalanche?” he said. “This is what you can do.”

  I looked out at the sea of protesters yelling and using their voices. People stood with signs screaming for a change. A rioter climbed up onstage and she yelled into the microphones.

  “Since digital school was established, people spend ninety-five percent less time communicating face to face,” she yelled. “American parents spend eighty-five percent less time with their children. DS ISN’T FIXING OUR PROBLEMS. IT’S JUST CREATING BIGGER ONES.”

  A roar of people cheered in agreement. Her voice echoed through the speakers before the audio was disconnected with a loud pop. I smiled to see with my own eyes the difference I could make. I wished I could see the look on my father’s face right now. Justin grabbed my arm and started pulling me along behind him.

  “You’re welcome,” I yelled at his back. He ignored me and focused on picking our way through people. I looked back at the gates and the security fence was turned on again. Police were trying to contain the rioters that were still screaming.

  “Come on,” Justin said. We cut through an open area of grass and sprinted toward the river. I ran after him, still dodging people, but it was open enough now to run. We sprinted over a grid of train tracks that curved along the harbor. I handed Justin the phone and he managed to dial a number while he was in full sprint. I pumped my legs and tailed along behind him.

  “You’ve got Clare and Pat?” I heard him say. “Head for northeast. I don’t want you guys ten miles from here. Meet me at Sandy Cove. You know where that is?”

  We ran down to the harbor, where rows of commercial boats and private sailboats were docked, their sails pulled down, leaving only the skeleton outline of their casts pointing up to the sky.

  Justin scanned the series of docks and something caught his eye. He ran down to the end of a pier and grabbed a surfscooter out of the back of a boat.

  “It’s not my first choice, but it will have to work.” I blinked down at the scooter. I had seen them before. People ride them like a surfboard, but these have a motor attached to the back of the board and handlebars to guide the direction. I had seen people do flips and stunts with surfscooters on TV.

  “What is it with you and water escapes?” I asked him.

  He threw the board on the water. “I’ll try and plan ahead better next time. Hop on.” He extended his hand to me and I awkwardly climbed on the board, trying to find balance.

  “Stop!” I heard a man’s voice shout behind us. I turned around to see two security guards running down the dock.

  “Hold on,” Justin said. He pulled away from the pier just as we heard a gunshot. I squeezed my head against Justin’s back as he turned the board around so we were facing the dock.

  “That was a warning,” one of the guards shouted. “Get back here or we’ll make sure not to miss this time.”

  Both of their guns were aimed directly at me.

  “It’s not a crime to have an opinion,” Justin yelled.

  “We want the girl,” the guard said. We idled there, in a small wake, the engine purring softly. The water sloshed us lightly back and forth but Justin kept his distance.

  “Bring her back or we’ll shoot.”

  I tightened my grip around Justin.

  “I wouldn’t recommend that,” he said, calmly. I studied his profile and saw amusement in his eyes. He stared back at the security guards like he was daring them.

  I could feel adrenaline rushing through my body and my hands were starting to sweat. I let my grip ease up around Justin’s waist. It was quiet for a few seconds. All I could hear was water slapping the sides of boats docked along the pier.

  “Use your head for just a second,” Justin yelled. “If you shoot me, we’ll tip over. And she can’t swim.” He nodded at me. “If you shoot her, she’s got enough equipment in her bag to pull her straight to the bottom. And you know the penalty for killing an unarmed civilian.”

  The guards looked at each other and for a fraction of a second and in a brief moment, when their eyes were turned away, I pulled the gun out of my pocket. Two shots rang out. The guards fell over, stunned and limp on the grass.

  I stared at the gun in my hand with shock and let it slip out of my shaking fingers and splash into the water.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “I’m really in trouble,” I said.

  Justin’s wide eyes watched the gun sink below a ripple of small waves.

  “I wasn’t unarmed,” I pointed out, as if that detail was still in question.

  He stared at me over his shoulder. “Where did you learn how to shoot?”

  “I told you, I took a self-defense class,” I said.

  He looked back over at the men lying asleep on the dock. “You shot two security guards.”

  He blinked a few times with bewilderment.

  I glared at him. “Do you want to sit here and talk about it for a while, or do you want to get out of here?” Justin told me to hold on and he pointed the board out for open water. I fastened my arms tightly around his waist and we wove around the piers until we met the river and headed upstream with the current. The board rolled over waves and kicked up sprays of water around us.

  We stayed close to the shore, but far off enough away to avoid piers and pools of harbors. I stared up at the iron bridges that passed us overhead and I looked out at the quiet labyrinth of skyscrapers built up along the water’s edge. If I wasn’t running from the law, as usual, I might actually enjoy the view.

  We continued north and buildings gave way to apartments and neighborhoods. Justin slowed down and I noticed a soft curve of beach cut out along the river, at the base of a sloping hill. When we hit the breaking waves, Justin took one head-on and we caught a jump. We landed with a splashing thud and I dug my fingers into his wais
t.

  “Sorry,” he said over his shoulder. “I couldn’t help myself.” He drove until we could see the sandy bottom and we both jumped off, our feet splashing into the cold water. He tossed the scooter on the beach and together we ran up a gravel path. The van was parked, waiting for us at the edge of the lookout. We hopped into the back seat and Riley skidded the car away. Pat sat in the front seat next to him.

  Clare grabbed my hand as soon as I sat down. “Madeline, you are a genius!” she exclaimed.

  “What is Madeline doing here?” Justin yelled at Riley. I stared at him and his eyes were still furious.

  “Dude, we had to bring her.”

  “No—”

  “Scott said it was the only way, man.”

  “Get Scott on the phone,” Justin demanded.

  A second later, Scott’s body appeared on the digital screen. He was still in his living room, sitting next to Molly, with computer monitors surrounding them.

  “Good to see you made it out of there,” he said with a grin.

  “You had no right—”

  “I had to send her,” Scott interrupted him, reading his thoughts. “You’re worth a lot more to us than Madeline is right now.”

  “I would have been fine,” Justin stated coldly.

  “Yes, you are fine,” Scott pointed out. “Everyone’s fine so let it go. I had to call the shots on this one. You need to trust me.”

  Justin exhaled a long sigh and started untying his wet shoes.

  “What the hell happened back there?” he asked.

  “It was a media spoof,” Scott said. “They set it up to look like a rally in support of DS. They used a hologram to project about twenty thousand supporters.”

  Justin pulled his fingers through his hair. “I really hate the news,” he said.

  “It’s their latest ploy to make DS look stronger than ever,” Scott said. “Nice timing too, since the nationwide vote’s coming up this fall.”

  “What vote?” I asked.

  Justin met my eyes. “People are pushing for DS to be a state-by-state vote, instead of a national law. But the government doesn’t want that to happen. Too much control to lose.”