When the Chips Are Down (8 page)

“If they have a clue as to what was in Eldridge’s house, and I’m sure they do, they’ll never stop hunting us,” Trent said.

“Why are they looking for Zane and not us?” Brooklyn asked, “That makes no sense.” The three were silent for several minutes.  Trent stood facing the window until he suddenly whirled around and pointed a finger at Zane.

“You cut yourself, didn’t you?!  I saw you get caught on that gate.  You left your damn DNA behind!” he exclaimed.

“
It’s just a small cut.  I don’t think it drew blood.  At least I didn’t notice any in the shower last night,” Zane said, holding out his hand. His startled expression answered Trent’s question.

“I knew it.
That’s no small cut; of course it drew blood,” Trent cried.

“
Why would Zane’s DNA be in the National Database?  He’s not a criminal,” Brooklyn said.

“Before the microchip bill was passed, the government started requiring everyone to give DNA samples,” Zane explained.

“That’s just great. Why the hell didn’t you tell us you cut yourself?!  That was really dumb to assume it didn’t bleed,” Trent snapped.

“Hey, get off my back, man. It was dark outside.  It’s not like I could see any blood,” Zane retorted. 

“Well
, that would’ve been all the more reason to tell somebody! If you couldn’t see, then you couldn’t be sure!  You know all it takes is a tiny drop of blood to be able to find out who it belongs to in the National Database. I can’t believe you wouldn’t think of that, being a hi-tech nerd.  The whole community could be in danger now,” Trent barked. This infuriated Zane.

“You thought this trip was a waste of time from the beginning. If not for Brooklyn and me, we never even would have found what we found!” he exploded. 

“
Thanks to you, there’s a good chance we’ll be
killed
for what we’ve found!  What will Eldridge’s research be worth when the cops shoot us and take it?!!!” Trent snapped back. The men’s words turned into shouts as one tried to yell over the other, and Brooklyn could no longer understand what they were saying.

“QUIET!” she screamed. They stopped yelling and looked at her. “Thi
s isn’t getting us anywhere. We need to think of a way to get this information to the right people and fast, now that we’re fugitives,” she said.

                                        
 
Chapter 5

Check out time came and they were back on the road again. Brooklyn was relieved that Trent and Zane had apologized to each other and were being civil.

“I hope this little plan of yours works,” Trent said.

“We have to make it work.  It’s our only option,” Zane replied from the back seat.

“I just hope we brought enough gas. It’s not like we were planning on going all the way to Helena,” Brooklyn said, glancing at the gasoline containers in the bed of the truck.

“It doesn’t help that one of the containers has a bullet hole in it now.  Not only are we minus a few gallons, but the bed of my
truck reeks of gas,” Trent complained.

“Exactly why are we going to Helena again?” Brooklyn wanted to know.

“Helena’s
where Rachelle Devarro lives now,” Trent said. 

“Who’s Rachelle Devarro?” Brooklyn asked. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember Rachelle!” Trent exclaimed.  Brooklyn thought hard, but could not recall anything, though the name did sound familiar.  She simply shook her head.  It was then that Trent realized Brooklyn’s memory must have been affected by her accident.

“Rachelle was a classmate of ours in college.  She was in our study group for a while.  She and Zane always had the highest grades and were either competing or working on projects together. She’d hang out with us sometimes, but mostly she was a loner, always focused on school,” Trent explained. Brooklyn’s eyes widened and her mouth formed an ‘O’ as she finally remembered.

“Now I remember!  Zane was in love w
ith her, but she shot him down,” she exclaimed.

Trent burst into laughter.  “I wasn’t
in love
with her,” Zane snapped. 

“But you did ask her out and she shot you down big time,” Trent said, still laughing. 
Zane’s eyes narrowed.  He could feel his face begin to flush.  He stared out the window, wishing Trent and Brooklyn would shut up. 

“That’s funny
. Why are we going to see her though?” Brooklyn said.

“Rachelle has information I need if I am going to succeed,” Zane responded. “The girl is brilliant.  She worked for a software company during college.  She helped modify their entire infrastructure, and that was only an internship.  When she was fifteen she hacked into the vice president’s e-mail.  I learned a lot from her in college, including how not to get caught.”

“So, you want to pick her brain?” Brooklyn said. 

“
Her brain and her computer,” Zane replied with a grin. “I could install a backdoor program on her computer to sniff out her passwords when she’s not looking.” 

“If she’s not a government employee, what good would her passwords do you?” Brooklyn asked. 

“She’s a stepping stone. 
There’s a good chance that she has contact with government people.  I may be able to gain access to their accounts through hers,” Zane said.

  “This is awfully risky.  What if she’s seen you on the news and turns us in?” Brooklyn said, turning in her seat in order to face Zane.  She was beginning to feel extremely uneasy about this. 

“
She never watches the news.  She’s probably in her own little world behind her computer, oblivious to everything else as always,” Zane retorted. 

“What does she do now?” Brooklyn wanted to know. 

“She’s a computer p
rogrammer for the Helena State College, a federally funded institution,” Zane replied. 

“If she’s living and working here, then she must have a chip.  How are you going to be able to talk to her about breaking into the govern
ment’s mainframe?” Brooklyn protested. 

“I’m not going to be entirely honest with her about all of that.  I’m just going to try to get her to share some technical knowledge with me.  That’s what we always did; we learned from each other and became better at what we did,” Zane said,” Now find a coffee shop so I can get a connection.”  Zane reached underneath his seat and pulled out his laptop.

Trent found a coffee shop near the interstate and pulled into the parking lot. “I could go for some coffee,” Brooklyn said longingly.  Zane had no trouble finding Rachelle’s home and e-mail address, to which he wrote the following e-mail:

Rachelle,

I know it’s been a long time, but I am in town for the day and I am in great need of your technical expertise for a project I’m working on.  I always learned a lot from you.  If you could spare some time for me this evening, it would be greatly appreciated.

Regards,

Z Man

“How does that sound?” Zane asked.

“I love how you mentioned only your own name,” Brooklyn said sarcastically.

“Yes, I think of everything,” Zane boasted.

“Why did you call yourself ‘Z Man’? Brooklyn asked. 

“It was a nickname she gave me,” Zane said, his face flushing once again “now let’s get going.”

Trent pulled out of the coffee shop parking lot and onto the road.  It would be several hours before they reached Helena.  Zane was sure Rachelle would check her e-mail before then, and hopefully, she would be home when they arrived.  That would also give him time to write the program he needed to install in Rachelle’s computer.  The more Brooklyn thought about going into town to visit a person with a microchip, the more uncomfortable she became.  She put back her seat and closed her eyes.  Sleep would be a welcome diversion.

“Brook, wake up. We’re here,” Trent said nudging her. She sleepily opened her eyes, put her seat up, and looked around. She was amazed at how beautiful Rachelle’s house was. It was cobblestone with large glass windows, and she could see a pool in the backyard.

“Well, this is it,” Zane said excitedly. He grabbed his laptop
and the three climbed out of the truck.

They walked down the long, sandstone sidewalk to the front door as Zane rang the doorbell and nervously looked around, hoping the entire town of Helena had not seen him on TV.  Finally the door opened and a beautiful Latino woman with long, jet black hair appeared. “Hey, Rachelle!” Zane exclaimed. 

“Hi, Zane
. Come in,” said Rachelle.  As soon as Zane stepped inside, he reached to hug her.  She hugged back loosely. 

“You remembe
r Brooklyn and Trent,” Zane gestured towards them.

“Hello,” she said.

It was then that Zane and Trent noticed how badly she was affected by the chip.  She was not evenly slightly enthused to see her old college friends. 
Her face was expressionless and her eyes were glossy. It was as if an alien species had taken over her body and engulfed her personality. It both angered and saddened Zane to see her this way. 
I know she’s in there somewhere,
he thought.

Brooklyn recalled what Trent had told her when he picked her up from the hospital:  “The chip makes people act weird.  They’re like mindless little robots.”  She had finally seen for herself what the chip was doing to people.  It was no exaggeration.

“Have a seat,” Rachelle said, gesturing towards the sofa and chairs. 

“It’s been so long.  How have you been?”
Zane asked. 

“Fine,” she replied
. 

“How do you like working for Helena State?” Zane said. 

“It’s nice,” she responded. 

“Is there anything exciting going on in your life?” Zane wanted to know.  Rachelle simply shook her head.  Zane fell silent, realizing that talking to her now was like talking to a robot.

In the past, she always h
ad something interesting to say because she was an interesting person.  Brooklyn, Trent, and Zane marveled at what a sad turn of events this was.

“So what is this project you’re working on?  I didn’t know you had gon
e back to school,” Rachelle asked breaking the silence. 

“
It’s actually a work project.  It has to do with the government.  I need to know how their systems work,” Zane said. 

“What kind of project is this?” Rachelle questioned. 

“I just got hired on as a S
ecurity Analyst, and my company wants to mimic the governmental protocols on their mainframe security system,” Zane replied. 

“
If your project involves snooping for ideas, then it’s not going to work.  Helena State’s system is similar to that of the government; all of the traffic is filtered, queried, and examined constantly,” Rachelle said bluntly, “We have six analysts checking it daily for vulnerabilities.”

“Unless a computer is buried under twenty feet of concrete and disconnected, it’s not impenetrable.  Your average run of the mill hackers couldn’t do it, but I can,” Zane asserted.

“The problem with that is by the time yo
u had decrypted the codes, your location would have been traced. You have to be extremely quick,” Rachelle retorted.

“If you knew exactly what you were doing, the codes could be decrypted in time without being caught,” Zane said. 

“You’d probably hav
e four minutes tops,” Rachelle declared.  Rachelle’s phone rang from the kitchen.  She excused herself and got up to answer it.  Zane reached into his pocket and nodded towards Brooklyn, who was seated in the chair facing the kitchen. 

As Brooklyn kept an eye on Rachelle, Zane placed Eldridge’s tiny flash drive into Rachelle’s desktop.  He had used it to save the backdoor program. 
They’ll never be able to trace it back to me,
he thought,
and Rachelle’s thinks I know nothing about not getting caught! HA! 
“It self installs,” Zane whispered to Brooklyn triumphantly as he removed the flash drive and put it back into his pocket.
 
“We should probably be going,” Zane told Rachelle when she returned from the kitchen.

“Are you sure?” Rachelle said confused. 

“Yeah
, it’s getting late and we have a long drive ahead of us,” Zane said, rising from his seat on the sofa.

“I don’t think I was much help
to you,” Rachelle admitted.

“Believe me, you’ve been more help than you
could possibly know,” he assured her.

The sun was beginning to set as the three friends drove away from Rachelle’s house.  It was then that Brooklyn asked the most obvious and pressing question:  “Where are we going to go now?” 

“I don’t know
. It’s not smart to travel at night with our plate lights out.  We could get pulled over easily,” Trent replied. 

“We need to go someplace where I can charge my laptop,” Zane said. 

“Food would be nice, too. We’ve used up our reserve,” Brooklyn added.

“I don’t suppose you have any more jewelry to bribe someone to rent us a room with,” Zane hinted.  Brooklyn shook her head sadly. 

“I know I can find us a place to stay, but it won’t be as glamorous as last night,” Trent said.  Trent left the subdivision and
drove until they reached an industrial road surrounded by warehouses and shipyards. 

“What the hell are we doing here?” Zane wanted to know.

“
The downturn of the economy left a lot of these places out of business all over the country.  There’s got to be an abandoned warehouse somewhere in this area,” Trent explained. 

“We’re going to sleep in an abandoned building!” Brooklyn cried. 

“We don’t have a choice,” Trent said. 

“Let’s hope my laptop has enough battery power to work with,” Zane groaned.

“They all look desolate,” Brooklyn said
, as they passed run down building after building.  “There! The front door is boarded up.  This place is perfect,” Trent cried as he stopped abruptly in front of a dilapidated red brick building. Trent drove the truck to the back of the building and parked in the shipping and receiving area. 

“I don’t like the looks of this place,” Brooklyn said nervously. 

“Come on, Brook.  It’ll be fine,” Trent assured, climbing out of the truck. 

“There’s no getting in through the back way,” Zane said, eyeing the closed steel doors of the shipping and receiving dock.  The three walked to the side of the building where there was a door with a smashed in lock.  Trent pushed the door gently, and it creaked open.  “What if someone’s in there?” Brooklyn hissed.  Trent pulled a flashlight from his pocket and shined it into the building as he pushed the door the rest of the way open. 

He saw nothing but crates and boxes.  “Hello!” he called.  His voice echoed.  He took a step inside and called again.  He turned towards Brooklyn and Zane, motioning for them to come inside.  “Coast is clear,” he said.  Brooklyn and Zane followed in after him.  “Where are we supposed to sleep?” Zane asked, staring at the concrete floor. 

“Let’s look around for something to mak
e a mattress out of,” Trent suggested.

Trent and Brooklyn ventured off in one direction and Zane another.  Zane slowly walked past stacks of crates towards the dock when the moonlight from the window reflected something that caught his eye.  “Trent, Brook! Over here!” he called. 

“Where are you?” Trent called back
, shining his flashlight in the direction of Zane’s voice.

“I’m on the other side. 
Come here; you need to see this!” Zane yelled.  Zane stood beside the window, waving his arms as they made their way over to him.

“Look!” he cried pointing.  There were several blankets and pillows lying on the floor surrounded by empty soda cans, beer cans, and syringes.  “There’s a mattress for you,” Zane said sarcastically. 

“I told you someone was here.  There are crack
addicts squatting in this place,” Brooklyn exclaimed. 

“Maybe they’ve gone,” Trent said, shining his flashlight on the bed. 

“Is that a risk you want to take?” Brooklyn snapped. 

“She’s right.  These people aren’t going
to want house guests,” Zane agreed.

Trent sighed in frustration.  “I don’t know what to do. There’s nowhere else---“

““
Shhhhh, did you hear that?” Brooklyn hissed. 

“Hear what?
I think you’re so scared of this place, you’re hearing things,” Trent whispered.

“No, I hear it too,” Zane said
softly.  The three listened closely as the sound of footsteps outside became louder.

They exchanged worried glances, hoping it wasn’t the police.  Finally they heard the door creak open as two shadows entered the warehouse.  Trent quickly turned off his flashlight.  “Great, the crack heads have come home,” Zane muttered.  Trent glanced behind him, looking for another way out, but he could see only darkness. 

“Derek, you have the best ideas,” a woman’s voice said,” I can’t believe we held up a 7-11 with a fake gun.”  They kissed noisily. 

“We got some good stuff
too. Let’s put it by the bed,” Derek’s low voice said.  Trent stepped backwards away from the bed, knocking over a stack of crates with a loud crash.  “What was that?” the woman cried. 

Derek dropped what he was carrying with a loud thud.  “I think we’ve got company, Krystelle,” he said, grabbing a large flashlight and shining it in their direction.  “Who the hell are you?!” he demanded. 

“We thought this place was abandoned,” Trent said, squinting from the light
.

“Well, it’s not!” Derek snapped. 

“We see that now, so we’ll just be on our way,” Trent replied calmly.

“You do that,” Derek said coldly as he stepped into the moonlight with Krystelle following behind them.  The light revealed two very aged and washed out looking people.  Krystelle glanced in Zane’s direction as something caught her eye. 

“Baby
, he’s got a laptop!” she cried pulling on Derek’s arm. Derek shined the flashlight on Zane.

“Get that thing out of my face,” Zane yelled squinting. 

“You’re giving us that laptop,” Derek said. 

“Over my extremely dead body,” Zane snapped. 

“T
hat can be arranged,” Derek yelled, and with that he charged towards Zane, swinging the handle of the flashlight at his head.  Zane caught the flashlight with his right hand while sending a left hook into Derek’s nose. 

The flashlight fell to the ground.  Derek swung his fist into Zane’s jaw.  The impact caused him to bite his lip. “Get him, baby!” Krystelle exclaimed.  Zane could feel his mouth fill with blood as he kept swinging his fists, narrowly missing Derek.  Derek jumped back, scanning the ground for his flashlight.  Trent saw his chance, rushed over, and dealt him a surprise blow to the left temple.  Derek stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. 

Krystelle ran over to Trent and began cursing him and slapping him in the face.  Trent stepped back and tried to shield the blows with his arm.  Brooklyn grabbed Krystelle’s hair, pulling her backwards and wrapped her arm around Krystelle’s neck in a sleeper hold maneuver. 

She pressed against Krystelle’s jugular veins until she stopped struggling, and her body went limp.  She dropped her to the ground breathlessly. 

“I didn’t know you knew how to do a sleeper hold,” Trent said, impressed. 

“It’s not difficult,” Brooklyn shrugged. 

“Are you ok
ay, man?” Trent asked Zane. 

“I’m fine,” Zane said,
wiping the blood from his mouth with his shirt.” That’s why they told us not to do drugs in school.” 

Zane grabbed the flashlight from the ground and shined it into Derek’s face.  “Wake up!” he shouted, placing his foot on Derek’s torso and shaking him.  Derek’s limp body flopped from side to side under Zane’s foot.  Zane and Trent looked at one another and shrugged. 

“Hey, WAKE UP, LOSER!” Trent shouted
, clapping his hands.  Derek opened his eyes and looked around the room, bewildered and disoriented. 

“Ohhhh my head,” he groaned. 

“You’ve been evicted
. GET THE HELL OUT!  NOW!” Zane barked.  Derek’s eyes widened with fear as he scurried up from the floor and took off running out the door.  “Baby, wait!” Krystelle cried, who had now awakened. 

“That means you too,
skank.  Get lost,” Brooklyn ordered, kicking her in the side of the leg.  Krystelle picked herself up off of the floor and followed after Derek.

Trent and Zane lifted a large crate and moved it in front of the side door to secure it while Brooklyn stood holding the flashlight for them. “I guess we’ve got the place to ourselves now,” Trent smiled. 

“I wonder what
they stole from the convenient store,” Brooklyn said, shining the flashlight in the direction where Derek dropped his things.  She spied a case of bottled water and several large plastic bags.  The three ran towards them like scavengers.

“Roasted hot dogs,” Trent cried triumphantly. 

“Give me one,” Brooklyn said
. 

“Hey
, there are free coupons for Burger Town!” Zane exclaimed. 

“I think that’s nearby
, too.  We’ll get lunch from there tomorrow,” Trent replied. 

“We’ve got cookies, cupcakes, and donuts as well.  Crack must give you the munchies,” Brooklyn said.

After they had feasted on Derek and Krystelle’s
ill-gotten gains, Zane was ready to get back to work.  “It’s time to see if Rachelle has anything I can use on her computer,” he announced, pulling out his laptop.  He slid a box over to the window and set his laptop on it.  Brooklyn and Trent sat on the bed as Brooklyn continued munching on their cakes and donuts. 

“We should save some of those for tomorrow,” Trent said. 

“I’m starving,” Brooklyn protested.

“Did you find anything?” Trent asked Zane after a while. 

“Rachelle has a program on her computer called TRAKS that stores personal information.  The system seems flawed, so once I have her password, I shou
ld be able to gain access to it. No one thinks of using a simple, old keystroke logger anymore, no one except
me
,” Zane said.

Brooklyn lay down in an effort to sleep.  The temperature had dropped considerably with the setting of the sun, and the pillow and blankets felt like ice.  “I’m so cold,” she complained.

“Come here
. You get cold so easily,” Trent said putting his arm around her.  As he lay there next to her, he wanted to say what he was thinking.  He wanted to tell her how he regretted that they had broken up in high school and decided to be “just friends”, even though they didn’t really know what dating was about back then. 

He wanted to tell her that the two years she had been in a coma were the saddest of his life and how courageous she had been lately, but Zane was only a few feet away, and he decided that this was neither time nor place.  Instead, he laid his head on the small of her back and drifted to sleep.

When Brooklyn and Trent awoke the next morning, they were not the least bit surprised to see Zane slumped over the box, asleep with his head beside his laptop.  “Zane, wake up,” Trent said, shaking his shoulder. 

“What time is it
?” Zane yawned, rubbing his eyes. 

“It’s eleven o’clock,” Tren
t replied, looking at his watch.

“Did you get what you needed?” Brooklyn asked.  Zane nodded. 

“It’s fairly simple when a person uses the same password for everything.  It’s obvious the chip has ruined Rachelle’s creativity,” he said. 

“What is the next step now that we can gain access to the government mainframe?” Brooklyn wanted to know. 

“Once the microchips are turned off, we’ve got to let
everyone know what’s going on.  They need to know exactly what Big Brother’s been doing to them,” Zane said.

“You could stream Eldridge’s video onto the internet,” Brooklyn suggested.

“As closely as the government monitors the internet now, the video wouldn’t be there long.  They would most likely see it before the general public did and remove it.  The people definitely need to see Eldridge’s video if they’re ever going to believe us.  I’m thinking it should be broadcast over the local news station.  It’ll reach who we need to
reach and the government will have a hard time refuting it.  Once it’s shown on the local stations, word will spread like wild fire,” Zane said.