REBELLION (Book Three of The Criminogenic Trilogy 3) (2 page)

Chapter Three

A large crowd of people had started to gather in the neglected warehouse.  What once served as a rehabilitation treatment for detainees of the State now housed the forgotten descendants of Facility experiments.  A nervous buzz filled the large space, the only light coming from the streetlights outside.  Cramped and bewildered, the crowd started to get restless while they waited for any sign of life from the offices above them.  The Lower Zone citizens had come together for this meeting, waiting for the cover of darkness so that they could sneak out into the night.  Mothers and their children propped themselves up against pillars while they chatted among themselves.  Fathers stood tall with pride, pointing out their teenage sons and regaling in their shared achievements.  Some citizens, who were reunited for the first time since the sanctions were imposed on the Region, were euphoric with happiness.  Seeing their long lost friends and loved one proved to take an emotional toll on some of them.  Evelyn watched this all unfold before her eyes from the darkened office above them. 

“Come,” she motioned to the legion of hooded silhouettes behind her, “let us begin.”

They walked out toward the bustling crowd, each still preoccupied with their own conversations.  Standing on the ledge above the group, Evelyn looked out into a sea of faces.  The people in the assembly represented every race and class; mothers still nursing their newborn babies were standing shoulder to shoulder with the elderly.  It seemed to Evelyn as though there was no demographic missing from this meeting.  It wasn’t meant to be such a widespread event; she thought. It was supposed to have been a small meeting of outcasts wanting a reprieve.  She turned to Calvin, who was searching through the faces with desperation. He was still hopeful that Giselle would turn up again one day.  The disappointment on Calvin’s face sent pangs of despair through Evelyn’s body; she yearned for the day when this would all be over.  She longed for the day when everyone could be free from the State and when her son could be happy again.

Evelyn called for attention by stretching out her long arms toward to crowd; silently she started lowering them to her sides.  A collection of eyes watched her intently, each sparkling with the reflection of dim lights and the singular flaming torch that Calvin held next to his mother.

“Thank you all for meeting with us this evening.  We appreciate the bravery that it takes to come out so late at night.”  Evelyn spoke with clear and concise purpose, she needed to appeal to everyone within the Zones, and she needed them to know that their cause was not in vain. 

“Some of you may not know who I am, while others might see me as an impostor.  But I am here to tell you all that I too am a victim of the State’s injustice.  I too have felt the fear of being exiled to an unknown hole, hidden away from the prying eyes of the upper class.  And I too have lost loved ones to the Facility.”  Evelyn heard Calvin shuffle behind her.  The crowd listened to her, silently swaying under the glow of the single flame that illuminated Evelyn.  She looked like an angel, shimmering and glowing under the radiating warmth of the fire.  Her grace and elegance helped put the masses at ease, as she spoke to them with compassion and desperation.

“We are all tired of being less than worthy in the eyes of the State! We are all tired of being treated like cattle, poked and prodded until we can take no more.  We are all tired of living in fear that speaking our minds will have our worlds ripped apart.”  She looked toward the mothers, hugging their children closer to them as they listened to her impassioned plea.

“Our children are being dragged from their beds at night and thrown away because they
might
lash out at the system.  Children as young as eight are now being convicted of being Could’s!  And we stand idly by while they do it.”  She then looked toward the groups of men who were gathering together.

“Do you remember when your mothers and sisters could walk the streets freely?  Tell me, when last did your daughters and your wives leave the house without being tormented by Upper Zone bullies?  Why are we still allowing it?”

Murmurs of agreement starting ringing out from the crowd, men nodded their heads in solidarity, while the women held onto their children tighter.  Evelyn saw that her words were sinking in; she just hoped that it would be enough to inspire a rebellion. 

“But what if we don’t want any trouble?”  someone cried out from amongst the crowd, prompting a few renegades to agree with their statement. 

“Yeah! What if we just want to go about our business in peace?”  replied another. 

“Then do so!”  Evelyn shouted over the chaotic voices below her.  “Then go about your business.  Don’t seek out any trouble.  We are not asking that you do anything that you don’t want to.  You are free to leave, and free to report this meeting to the D.A.E.  But know this; there are those who are tired of being fearful for their lives because they want something more.  There are those who are tired of being policed by curfews that dictate how we can spend our freedom.  And those who are tired of being guinea pigs to the state, they are the ones that we need to fight for.”

She let the crowd go silent once more, watching their expressions as she did.  Finally, she said with conviction, “Only we can restore the lost faith that we have in humanity, and only we can fight against injustice because no one else will do it for us.  You either fight for what you believe in, or fall prey to what you are told.  All of you have the chance to make a difference; the question is whether you are ready to take that step?”

Evelyn took hold of the torch that illuminated her passionate speech to the crowd and raised it high into the air.  With a bellowing yell, she cried out: “Who is with me?”

***

Jonathan walked into the penthouse suite that he called home.  He was met by a frantic looking Beatrice who was reeling after one or another mini domestic disaster that she had been a part of during the day.  He’d received numerous text messages from her demanding that he come home to help her, but he had more important worries to contend with.  He was totally zoned out while Beatrice yapped around him like a small lap dog, yelping to get his attention again.  Jonathan walked right past her without flinching. 

She continued, undeterred by his annoyance, to get a reaction out of her husband.  He had been distant since the attack, and nothing that she could do would snap him out of his stupor.

“Are you ever going to come back to earth, Jonathan?”  She shouted before Jonathan dodged a whiskey tumbler that she flung toward his head.  Hundreds of glittering shards of glass tumbled around him as he turned to confront his red-faced wife.

“What is the matter, dear?” he spat with patronizing irritation. “Not enough attention from your garden club minions today?”

Clearly hurt by his brief jibe, Beatrice turned her head as she wiped tears from her eyes.  “You don’t have to be so cruel to me, Jonathan,” she whispered.

He waved her away, and poured himself a whiskey out of an exquisite crystal decanter.  He kept checking his mobile for any new information on a rebellion that might be circulating in the media, but there was nothing.  His attempt at having the media coverage stopped throughout the Regions was stopped abruptly by the Heads of State.  They couldn’t justify having more unrest by taking the only outlet away from the citizens.  This concerned Jonathan, he needed solidarity within the State, especially if his rebellion fears were true.

Beatrice continued to whimper in the corner of the room, staring out into the night, she watched the flickering lights of Zone One.  Her presence was starting to annoy Jonathan immensely, he just needed some peace and some space to think of what he could do.  He knew that there was a revolt coming, he could feel the electric tension around the Region, and he was powerless to do anything about it.

Since the attack, the State had become sympathetic to his needs, but they were no longer taking him seriously.  He had become a liability to the State and as hard as he tried to rectify that, he was being pushed aside.  After a meeting with the State Chancellor, he was certain that he would be able to convince them that there was an uprising taking place.  He hoped that they would take him seriously and implement further sanctions across the Regions.  But they laughed him off, calling his concerns paranoid or delusional.  It was only a matter of time before he was pushed out of his Director position, and replaced with one of the pimpled trust fund children that the State kept producing, he thought bitterly. 

“Jonathan! You need to see this!” Beatrice pulled him cruelly from his thoughts, and the color drained from her face as she looked out of the glass wall that separated them from the city.  Before them was the spectacular display that Jonathan was right about a rebellion. 

Zone One was a crumbling inferno.

“Get to the safe house,” he commanded as he dialed police units frantically.  Backup generators had started kicking in across the street lined with high-rise luxury apartments.  The gentle hum that something was not as it should be resonated throughout the Zone.  Beatrice grabbed hold of Jonathan, pleading with him to go with her.  She was a Zone One born and bred, she wasn’t able to cope with anything that took her out of her comfort and pampered protection that came with her status.  It was becoming apparent to her that her status would mean nothing anymore. 

“I told them!” He grumbled to himself in frustration, “None of them would believe me though and now look.” Jonathan waved wildly toward the catastrophe that was occurring right outside their door. 

There was no warning, no hint that this would transpire at all.  Suddenly all of Zone One was a brilliant warzone with no enemy in sight.  Strategically placed explosives had all been detonated moments later.  High-end stores and boutiques were ablaze, the lavish stock strewn through the streets.  There were no looters or rioters running through the streets, and no one was claiming responsibility for the terrorist attack.  Zone One residents all frantically headed down to the safety of the bunkers under their homes, while police units patrolled the streets in search of whoever was responsible.

Jonathan led Beatrice into the shared safety of the bunker underneath the luxury apartment block where they lived.  Scared faces turned to him with wide eyes, all hoping that he would have the answers.  The only certainty that Jonathan had was that they were all in trouble. 

“What is going on out there, Phelps?” a well-dressed man spoke up from the back of the room, still clutching onto his cigar and whiskey tumbler.  This prompted all the inhabitants to ramble off, questioning Jonathan and the D.A.E.  Zone One citizens were not prepared for what they were about to be faced with, and Jonathan Phelps realized that he wasn’t either.

Beatrice looked over at the man who sparked the periodic unrest within the cramped sanctuary, and spoke with clear antipathy.  “It’s called an uprising, Albert.  We are now all nothing more than sitting ducks.”  Beatrice looked to Jonathan with bitterness and anger; she blamed him for anything that happened to them from here on out.

“Isn’t that right, darling?” she spat viciously.

Chapter Four

News of the attack on Zone One dominated the media transmissions. The State had declared it a terrorist attack on a peaceful society.  Recovery attempts were being made to get citizens out of the raging war zone that had engulfed the once tranquil capital.  The widespread panic seeped throughout the Regions and petrified whispers of updates filled the Facility wards.  Doctors and orderlies were trapped within the same walls that they used to keep innocent people captive behind.  The increased unrest meant that anyone associated with the D.A.E and the State were prime targets for any attacks from a group known only as the Foresworn.  No one knew who any of the rebels were, or how they had managed to go undetected by the D.A.E for so long. The only certainty was that a war was raging.

Shannon and Giselle sat closely together while eavesdropping on a conversation between two guards.  There hadn’t been a staffing change for three days, and their curiosity had gotten the better of them.  The Facility was careful to keep any information from the outside world away from the inmates and patients, but flustered orderlies had little self-control when a scandal was concerned.  Heads closely together, the two red clad women listened intently as a young orderly retold the horror that had claimed Zone One a few days before.  Their frustration with the State was becoming more apparent with each day that passed inside the Facility, they too were now unintentional prisoners of the State. 

Peter sat nearby lost in deep thought. It had been days since anyone had been administered the Treatment, and he too was curious about the reason why.  I’m not complaining, he thought before drifting off again.  Losing himself to daydreams of freedom and Maggie, Peter wasn’t as interested in the unnerving rumors that circulated through the Facility. 

“Do you know what this means?” Giselle whispered to Shannon, watching the orderlies closely as she did.  “This means that the Foresworn were successful, the uprising is happening.”  A faint smile spread across Giselle’s face. She now knew that all of her sacrifice would be for the greater good of the rebellion.  Giselle knew that her sacrifice for the Foresworn was only just beginning. 

Shannon looked at her young confidant with concern. She could never be sure what she was thinking, her face devoid of any traces of emotion.  Unsure if it was a side effect of the Treatment or Giselle’s greatest asset, Shannon knew that it frightened her a little bit.

“What are you thinking?”  Shannon asked softly, concerned about what the answer would be.

Giselle simply smiled at Shannon from under hooded eyes before saying coldly; “That revenge is a dish best served cold.”

Without warning, Giselle’s eyes started to shine with renewed passion.  She leaped up from her crouched position next to Shannon and lunged toward the exhausted orderlies nearby.  They were unprepared, overworked and already fearful from all of the media coverage of the rebellion.  In a clear swoop, Giselle used her full body weight to pull the bigger orderly down. She knew that she needed to disable the big one first.  The smaller orderly froze in fear, watching as the same feral spark started to ignite in the other patients.  Disabling the bigger of the two, Giselle secured a Facility issued baton and whacked it against his head sharply.  Brandishing her new weapon, she turned her attention to the overwhelmed man who had started backing toward the only exit in the Red Ward.  With a devilish grin, she waved a heavy stack of keys in his face as she stalked toward him.  A group of unruly patients was following closely behind the unintentional leader that Giselle had become. 

“Please!”  he cried, raising his hands in surrender. “Don’t hurt me.”

Giselle threw the set of keys toward Shannon, and motioned toward the door. Shannon knew what to do, and led the group of inmates out of the ward.  Giselle stayed, watching the orderly cower against the wall.  She felt angry, watching how one of her tormentors had soiled himself out of fear, and she shook her head.  She crouched down in front of him, studying his cowardly face for a moment.

“I begged you not to hurt me when I first came to this place, didn’t I?” she asked frigidly.  “What makes you think that I won’t show you the same courtesy that you extended to me?”

Sniffling, the orderly looked up at her slowly, fearing to make eye contact with Giselle.  She looked down at him with repulsion, without a word, Giselle stood up and walked out of the Red Ward.  Freedom was finally within her reach.

Before Giselle could reach the Facility exit, she heard clumsy running coming from behind her.  Peter had finally decided to leave the comfort of his daydreams long enough to make a run for it as well.  Out of breath and out of shape, he held out one hand for her to stop, the other clutching his chest in the hopes that he could keep his heart from escaping.  Giselle stopped and waited for him to catch up to her. The carnage left by the detainees who had made their escape with Shannon had secured a safe passage for all the inmates of the Facility.  All except the White Ward patients who were unable to move from their Treatment induced stupors.

“Do you need help there, old man?”  Giselle mocked as she offered her arm to him for support.  Peter replied with a silly grin, and used her shoulders to keep himself balanced.  Trying to speak between gasps, Peter stumbled outside into the sunshine with Giselle’s help.  Patients and inmates littered the pristine landscape that served as an entrance to the Facility.  Giselle searched for Shannon in the crowd of chaos.  Red and black jumpsuits lay scattered as patients started tearing down the oversized gate that kept them away from civilization.  A tinge of panic started to creep over Giselle as she thought of what awaited them on the other side of those walls.  But it was Peter who put her mind at ease between slowing gulps for air.

“Good thing that the State hasn’t had a military for years, or we’d be in big trouble now.” 

Giselle looked over to Peter. Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she placed a long kiss on his cheek.  “Oh Peter, you beautiful man! Of course!”

Since the inception of the D.A.E, the State had focused its resources on the Facility and bulking up the Bulldog division.  D.A.E enforcers were an intimidating force, but no match for a revolt of this magnitude.  The police service was a formality to keep the upper Zone’s residents in a bubble of false security.  The Region was on lockdown, and the unwanted dwellers of the lower zones now had the upper hand.  

***

Evelyn tapped her long fingers along the finely crafted desk that she sat behind.  Deep in thought, she barely recognized what was happening around her.  It had been a week since the first attack on the State by the Foresworn.  She had been sure that the casualties would be minimal, limited to State Heads and D.A.E officials, but they were all in hiding.  As she suspected, they had all tunneled themselves into the safety of the numerous safe houses that ran like a maze underneath the capital.  She just needed them to relent long enough for her to smoke them all out.  They were utterly unprepared for the attack, and Evelyn knew this.  The only person who was sniffing around was Jonathan and his lapdog, Oliver, but both had gone to ground as well.

Evelyn shouted out in frustration, slamming her hand down onto the table as she did.  Calvin looked up from television; the last remaining media coverage came from an independent broadcaster within Zone 3.  From showing only State approved programming aimed toward the lower zone dwellers, they now had the monopoly over covering the rebellion.  

“What is it mom?”  Calvin asked, concerned that the cause was taking its toll on his mother.

Evelyn cradled her face in her hands, exhausted from nights of broken sleep and days of mending the broken civilians caught in the crossfire. 

“We need to smoke them out,” she said in frustration. “They are offering their people up as sacrifices while they hide away in their gilded holes in the ground.”  Evelyn suspected that the State would be this cowardly, hiding behind an unprepared Region while they sought safety in their safe houses.  D.A.E enforcers had been ordered to stand guard while they dined on gourmet food and drank expensive wines.  Evelyn felt disgust as she imagined Jonathan’s face laughing at the efforts of the Foresworn from his palatial cave.

Evelyn shook away the thought, and turned her attention to the rebellion that raged around her.  Women and children were being housed in the warehouse where Evelyn could ensure their safety.  She had made it very clear from the beginning that no children would be harmed during the uprising, and any wandering children were brought into her care.  She watched Calvin for a moment. He was concerned for her, and she could see it.  She knew that he would one day ask about the elusive Jonathan Phelps and why it mattered so much that he be brought to answer for his role in the way the State ran.  But that is not today, she thought.  She took a deep breath, and started sliding her finger along the tablet that illuminated her face with a blue glow.  She noticed a breaking story unfolding in the outskirts of Zone Four. It appeared as though her rebellion had spread as far as to behind the walls of the Facility.  There had been a prison break, and all but a few patients remained within the Facility.  The public was being warned to report any suspicious looking people, but not to approach them, as they are dangerous.  A clip of security footage played on repeat underneath the report. It was a grainy replaying of the petite girl attacking a large orderly in the ward.  Evelyn watched the video clip twice before calling Calvin over to her with excitement.

“See,” she said, pointing out the wild woman, “I told you that she was a strong one.”

As Calvin started the video to see who his mother was talking about, he was interrupted by one of the Foresworn soldiers. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Evelyn, but I have someone here to see you.  She says that it is important.”

Evelyn stood to meet her unexpected guest, and her eyes met the startling blue eyes of Giselle Harmon.  Still wearing a red jumpsuit, she smiled with relief when Evelyn pulled her close into her embrace. 

“Oh Giselle!” Evelyn sobbed gleefully.  Calvin circled the two, waiting for his opportunity to be near the woman he loved.  Finally free from the tight hold that Evelyn kept her in for longer than necessary, Calvin kissed Giselle with fervor.  He could not be happier to see anyone at that moment.

“Don’t worry,” Giselle spoke between kisses from Calvin. “No one followed me here, but I brought home some strays.”

Evelyn chuckled, “You are perfect for each other then aren’t you?”  She then motioned to a Foresworn soldier to bring in the rest of the escaped Facility detainees that Giselle had brought with her.