by P. L. Camery
When he resumed the video, it was Carlos who spoke. He stood tall, pride radiating from his voice, “Lawrence my son, your mother and I are beyond proud of you. You are everything we could have hoped for. You’re not only intelligent but creative and resourceful. And more importantly you are loyal and considerate. Though you often have a hard time showing it, when you love you love completely and will do anything for the people you care about. You are determined, far more disciplined than I was at your age, and you make miracles happen when you put your mind to it. Know that we didn’t tell you of our plan because there’s nothing you could have done to stop or help us. Don’t ever blame yourself for what happened to us, we accept the consequences of our choices, you’ll need to accept them too. We love you our little miracle worker.”
This time it was Cal who paused the video. Mavis had to cover her mouth to keep from crying, her heart was so constricted it felt like a physical emptiness. When she turned to face him she saw tear in his eyes, “I just wish he had seen that,” he said quietly, “I wish he could have known, you know?”
Not trusting her voice, Mavis could only nod. She took a deep breath; she had to be strong; she pressed play.
“We love you both, so, so much.” Carlos finished.
“And we hope,” Regina began again, exchanging a glance with her husband, “We hope you can find a way to forgive us for leaving you. You see, we had a choice, we could have chosen to do nothing, continue with the status quo despite what we know, but…” she shrugged, “we are rebels.”
“We stand up for what we believe in,” Carlos affirmed, “it’s who we are, it’s what we do.”
“To be blunt,” Regina continued, “we have evidence that the rebel force is a government sanctioned enterprise. Specifically, we have video and audio surveillance of the Guardian herself appointing the next head of the rebel council. The footage we have would bring the entire Guardianship into question, forcing the citizens of Hassdrin to reconsider the system they so blindly put their faith in. Essentially the plan is break into Guardian Tower and locate the one of the national broadcasting rooms. Then we release the video and hope humanity can see reason.”
“If we have succeeded and not returned for you two, you should likely be in a safe house by now,” Carlos added, “all that remains for us to do is to retrieve a flash drive hidden in an abandoned warehouse by Grant Stone, a trusted colleague and friend. This flash drive has the blueprints to Guardian Tower and the access codes to override all electronic security. But since you are seeing this, we are truly deeply sorry to have failed you.”
With that the video ended and both rebels sat back in their chairs, too stunned to speak.
*****
Roland straightened his uniform, took a deep breath, and stepped through the door. It was his first time visiting interrogation room four, and though he was unsure of what compelled him, he knew he had to come, had to see.
He had barely learned of prisoner L204 two days before and it had come as a shock to him. Like the rest of the nation, he had assumed the boy had died in the gunfire. But in hind sight he should not have been surprised; after all, one did not get a summons from the Guardian herself for less than groundbreaking news. When he has been summoned, Roland had been a bundle of nervous energy. Though his superficial composure had remained in tack he could feel his uniform seeping with sweat and his heart hammered so loud he seemed to echo in his skull.
She told him to take a seat, hardly sparing a glance from her tablet. Five minutes later when her icy blue eyes finally met his, Roland wished he could sink back into the plush chair. Then the Guardian leaned back in her seat, and gave him the most eerie grin, “Good afternoon General Stone, I trust you had no trouble getting in.”
Besides the guards glaring him down, guns raised and trained on him as he walked? “N-nope,” he took a breath, forcing himself to calm, “no trouble at all.”
“Good, good,” the Guardian took her tablet and slid it in his direction, “I brought you here to talk about a particular prisoner, L204, which we think you might be of some use in interrogating, given the previous relationship you have with him.”
Roland looked down at the tablet, and his racing heart stopped. Shit, shit it can’t be. He hoped his jaw hadn’t fallen open as he gaped. It took several seconds to recover himself, “Excuse me for questioning Guardian, but what exactly are you expecting from me? There are others better trained for interrogating…”
She silenced him with a dismissive wave, “Those torture hounds won’t be able to get anything out of this boy, and we’ve already been administering our greatest tool, a mind-altering drug that exposes you to your worst fears. Excuse my language, but they won’t be able to do shit.” Roland raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Undeterred she continued, “No, all we would need you to do is administer his- daily medicine and observe. We are hoping because of your relationship to him that you may be able to interpret key phrases that the average knuckle head would overlook. Also, as his old trainer you may also be able to determine the limits of how much drug dosage should be administered. He has showed higher resistance than any of the test subjects,” her blue eyes glinted at the eerie grin returned, “I must admit I’ve taken a personal interest in his progress, he’s proven to be quite the anomaly you see and given enough time I’d love to be able to observe him myself, but sadly, my post doesn’t leave much free time for research.”
Roland swallowed, and his fists clenched in his lap as he suppressed a wave of anger. Sure, he had never liked the guy, but he respected him, and no one deserved to be treated like a lab rat. But that was hardly something he could express to the most powerful person in the world.
But as Roland walked into interrogation room four, he felt a tinge of guilt pestering the back of his mind. It was not just the Guardian’s morbid curiosity that compelled him to come, but his own as well. Even if he was not now reporting to the nation’s leader, he would have taken the assignment for no other reason but to see how Mavis’s former lover was faring. Roland shook his head, he was pathetic.
The room was large and entirely made of stone, the only lighting a pale spotlight shining directly on the prisoner. There was no furniture except for a shower hanging over the crouched boy’s head. Lawrence still wore the same uniform he had been wearing the day he was shot. Chained at his wrists and ankles he seemed soaked, hair matted down as if he had just been doused by the overhead shower, water still dripped into the drain beneath his bare feet. As Roland closed the distance, he could see that there was blood crusted around where the restraints cut into him. It wasn’t until the general stopped a few feet away that Lawrence looked up.
For a moment they stared at one another. The Lawrence smiled, “Well I was wondering when they’d change things up on me, though I must admit this is a surprise.”
Roland grunted in agreement, “Believed me, I was just as shocked.”
“Let me guess, the rest of the world thinks I’m dead right?”
“Did you expect anything different?”
Lawrence shrugged, “No, it’s not like they can publicize what they’re doing with me here, doesn’t go well with the Guardian’s image.” They lapsed into silence as the younger boy appraised his visitor. Finally, he asked, “So what’s your purpose here? Are you the comedic relief before the fresh torture begins?”
In response Roland produced a needle and showed it to him. Immediately Lawrence stiffened, all the blood draining from his face. “I’m here to administer and observe,” Roland said, tone flat, all business. When Lawrence didn’t respond he added, “unless you have something useful confess, if you do, we can avoid this,” he shook the needle, “and call it a night.”
“Don’t be coy with me,” Lawrence growled through gritted teeth, “if that’s what it’s gonna be get on with it.”
Roland nodded once then bent into a crouch. When he reached for the prisoner’s right arm Lawrence grabbed him by the collar of his uniform. “Want to he
ar a secret, soldier boy,” Lawrence hissed, glaring icy daggers. They were so close Roland could feel his hot reeking breath and it took every ounce of will power not to pull away, “I have so many plagues I can choose which ones to focus on. They can’t crack me; I was crazy to start with.”
Roland lifted the needle and spotting it, Lawrence flinched back, seemingly unable to control the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the look of absolute terror which once again consumed his features. Roland responded, “I hope you’re right.”
As soon as the needle plunged into his skin Lawrence felt his already racing heart accelerate. His vision went dark and he threw himself blindly at the wall behind him hopping to knock himself out to avoid facing the inevitable. He found himself all too aware of the ache in the back of his skull, shit, shit no no no!
Within seconds the spiders came. Long thin appendages crawling, lift lift lift lift, drop drop drop drop, lift lift lift lift, drop drop drop drop, faster and faster all over. Feather light causing chills everywhere lift lift lift lift, drop drop drop drop, lift lift lift lift, drop drop drop drop. Oh god icky silky sticky deadly, off, get it off, get it off, get it off! Everywhere crawling in and out everywhere in my skull, down my neck, my spine, no no no no no! He thrashed, throwing himself against his restraints in a panicked effort to shake them off. Eventually he sunk into a fetal position, shaking uncontrollably muttering to himself, “They aren’t real, they aren’t real…” oh but they felt so, so real. He couldn’t take it, so real, they must be raising the dose, he used to be able to talk himself out of it. They can’t be real, they aren’t real, no, no…
The scene shifted, and he was sprawled on the floor. His limbs felt heavy and he couldn’t move. He felt something yank on his hair, so he could see what was ahead of him. Mavis sat behind an old wooden table bruises and cuts populating her body. A burly man hovered over her, holding a butcher knife. She was crying, “Please baby, make them stop, tell them everything, just make them stop.” Lawrence closed his eyes, trying to will the spiders back. Then he heard a light swish and the sound of cutting flesh.
“It’s not real, not real, not real,” the boy chanted to himself, “she’s not real.” Tears rolling down his cheeks, Lawrence opened his eyes and Mavis was replaced by his mother body rotting and neck hanging at an unnatural angle. She stared into him with vacant eyes. “I’m sorry,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “I’m sorry mom, I failed you, I’m sorry.”
The images circulated and continued. Lawrence let himself be consumed; knowing nothing was real except his feelings of defeat and failure.
*****
Grant Stone. Cal couldn’t fathom it. It was one thing for there to be government agents planted in the rebel council. It was another entirely for their leader- their trusted leader no less- to be a planted agent. Sure, he was a known high-ranking army general, everyone knew that, except for Mavis it seemed, who had been shocked to realize the man was Roland’s father. But for the person the entire rebel army followed without reservation to actually be loyal to the Guardian, it was unreasonable. Though Cal supposed he should have seen it coming, it certainly aligned with Destiny’s claims. And why else keep his own son out of the rebel cause, instead encouraging him to pursue a career in the army hunting rebels.
No one had questioned the man, the infallible Grant Stone. He was perhaps the rebel equivalent of a Guardian. Cal vowed he would not make such a mistake again. If a new nation ever rose, as was Lawrence’s vision, it would not have a Guardian figure, he swore to it.
But that was of little consequence now; he and Mavis had to move forward. Thanks to the video they now knew that Grant and the council were not to be trusted. Mavis had reasoned that the majority of Democris’s’ population was in the clear, true rebels at heart, but for now there was no way of knowing. They had also learned that there in fact existed blueprints and security access codes that could be used to break into Guardian Tower. Armed with this knowledge, Cal knew finding the information fell to him. They still had Lawrence’s old draft of a Constitution for a new nation, and with the access codes and a lot of luck, they could infiltrate Guardian Tower and force the Guardian to accept the formation of a new country on national television. It would take a lot of planning and was certainly a suicide mission, but what did they have to lose? The institution they’d put their faith in was gone and the two of them didn’t constitute the manpower for an ordinary revolution.
It had taken some time, but at long last he had deduced where the codes could be found. But unfortunately, they couldn’t be downloaded remotely. They seemed to reside in an old computer system that was not connected to any networks and could only be accessed in site. And of all the places, where else would it be but in Grant Stone’s personal home office. If Cal needed any more proof the man could not be trusted, this was it.
With obtaining the most important information for their mission reduced to breaking and entering, all they had to do was wait for the right opportunity. And this evening, the whole Stone family would be out for a dinner party hosted by one of the army generals. Clipping his utility belt into place, Cal reached out and holstered his gun, just in case. Next to him, he heard Mavis blow out a breath.
“This is so strange,” she said, picking up two headsets she handed one to him then secured her own, “usually I’m the active agent not the watchdog, I must admit, I’m feeling a little demoted.”
Cal smirked; it was good to see some of her old humor returning, though the look in her eyes still spoke of a persistent sadness. “It can’t be helped,” he responded with a shrug, “this is one area where you’re distinctly less qualified than me.”
Mavis waved her hand in dismissal, “Sure, sure, I still don’t see why you couldn’t have written up a program on a flash drive that could do the computer work for me.”
“I could have, but then where’s the fun in it for me?” They began a brisk walk, crossing to the far end of Democris where their exit would be. “Besides, since I don’t know anything about the unit, I wouldn’t have a clue how to approach such a program.”
Mavis rolled her eyes, “You think so little of yourself.” They approached the ladder which was one of the oldest rebel city entrances, leading to a decommissioned sewer system, and by the time they reached the surface, night had begun to settle in earnest. They were only a few blocks from the Stone house; keeping to the shadows they moved quickly, and within five minutes reached their destination. Crouching in the cover of a hedge they surveyed the area.
The Stone house was bigger than Cal expected. But then he didn’t know why he was bothering with expectations anymore. It stood tall at two stories, sleek grey lines creating a modern look. No one seemed to be home so Cal pulled his phone from his belt and keyed in a few commands, “I’m going to disable the alarms and locks. The night is young, so I don’t expect anyone to be back for several hours but…”
Mavis cut him off by squeezing his shoulder, “You don’t have to narrate everything for me. Take a breath Cal, it’s going to be okay.”
She smiled then, a genuine smile that spoke of her confidence in him. Cal nodded once, “Yes, yes your right.” He finished typing commands into his phone then returned it to its spot, “See you in a bit.”
As Cal approached the house, he surveyed it for potential exits. There were two windows that he could see on the top floor. Both were too high up to jump but he had his falling hook, he could use them in a pinch. The bottom floor only had the front and back entrances as far as he could tell. As a precaution he went to the rear of the house, navigating a well-furnished porch before approaching the door. Spotting an old-fashioned locking mechanism he sighed and pulled out his picks, this would only take a second, but he was eager to get inside. After several infuriating minutes he heard a satisfying click and smiled to himself.
The first floor housed only the entrance room, dining room, and kitchen, though all three seemed larger than most standard apartment units in his humble opinion. Fin
ding a staircase, he took the steps two at a time. He had just searched two of the bedrooms and was heading towards the third when Mavis sounded in his headset, “Cal we have an issue, I see three vehicles approaching, long and sleek, they look like commuter types.”
“Are they coming here?”
“Too soon to tell, get yourself near an exit though, I don’t want to risk it.”
“That’s a negative,” Cal said. Moving fast he entered the third of five rooms. “I’ve searched most of the house already. I’m so close Mavis I can’t leave now.” This room was smaller than the others, but other than a television set no technology. Shit, shit.
“Cal, they’re stopping in front of the house. You need to abort now.”
Cal bit his lip to suppress a curse, but instead of answering he raced into the forth room. Upon entry his gaze immediately landed on the older of the two computer units, tucked next to a bookshelf in the corner. Bingo.
“Cal you need to get out of there. It looks like about ten soldiers. I don’t think they know you’re there; they seem to be socializing, although I can’t tell they’re all so rigid. Still, they’re approaching the door get out!”
Cal activated the unit then scowled, crossing his arms and tapping his foot as he waited for the unit to boot up. The thing is an antique! It made a beeping noise just as Cal heard the front door open. Stiffening he quickly turned down the volume and waited. From the office he could hear a low murmur of voices headed for what he thought was the dining room. After several seconds, he released his breath and set to work. He could hear Mavis saying something but he ignored her as his fingers flew over the keys. It took twenty minutes to access the files he needed and download then onto a flash drive. Wiping his hand down his face he blew out a breath and collected his flash drive.
“Are you alive! Respond to me! Where are you Caleb Short!”
Cal winced at the shooting in his ear and whispered, “You’re terrible at this you know that? A total distraction.”