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  REVOLT

  Tracy Lawson

  Cover design by EbookLaunch.com

  Back cover image by Ashley M. Hofmaster

  ISBN for Print edition 978-0-9966108-8-9

  ISBN for ebook edition 978-0-9966108-9-6

  CreateSpace issued ISBN 978-1546457312

  DEDICATION

  For Keri, Reagan, Madison, Alex, Jules, and Ainsley

  Chapter 1

  1:15 AM

  Saturday, December 16, 2034

  Quadrant DC-005

  Tommy Bailey’s likeness, gun in hand, stood frozen on the huge television screen, staring down at Careen Catecher’s crumpled, lifeless body. In reality, it was Careen who held the gun, nostrils flaring as she drew rapid, panicky breaths. Tommy, hands raised in surrender, wanted to kick himself for underestimating the complexity of her emotional state. When he’d rescued her from ongoing torture and abuse at the Office of Civilian Safety and Defense, he’d assumed she’d be glad to see him.

  Witnessing that convincing video of her own murder had freaked her out. Her eyes flicked to her wrist, where the LED light on the personal identification and GPS tracking device she wore flashed in time with her racing heartbeat. When the OCSD’s new security mandate went into effect, everyone under the age of eighteen would be fitted with a Link.

  “If Atari can fool people with enhanced video, the Link won’t be reliable or honest. False evidence like that can be created and used against anyone.” Tears filled her eyes, and she bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling. “The OCSD said the Link is to protect children. I believed it was true! It would be such a good thing to know nothing bad could ever happen to the defenseless. Tommy, what are we going to do? How can we stop him from ruining the integrity of the Link?”

  Sabotaging the Link was top priority for the Resistance. Careen had been one of the rebel group’s most passionate and visible members, but now she didn’t seem to remember whose side she was on. He pulled an exaggerated look of surprise. “We? You said we.”

  She blinked, confused. “What?”

  “You just said ‘what are we going to do?’ You still think of us as a team, don’t you? Come on. Admit it.”

  “Even if I did say that—which I didn’t—do you seriously want to argue semantics?”

  He folded his arms on his chest. “No time like the present. Hit me with your best semantics.”

  “Don’t try to distract me. They’ve pitted us as adversaries so you can prove your loyalty to the OCSD.” She tilted her head toward their doppelgangers on the screen. “That’s your task, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t have to prove anything to the OCSD. I’m Resistance, and so are you. You may not trust Atari or his videos, but we can trust each other. My enemy’s enemy is my friend, right?”

  “How do I know if you’re my enemy’s enemy? You and Atari are probably besties.”

  “Hardly! I can’t stand the guy. You’re my best friend.”

  She bit her lip as she glanced up at their images again, and he recognized her resolve wavering. As if to prove him wrong, she raised the gun a few inches. “If it comes down to you or me, Tommy, I swear to God I’ll shoot you.”

  Her words hung in the air for a split second before he lunged at her and grabbed both her wrists in one hand, pointing the gun up and away until she was standing on tiptoe.

  “Come on, Careen, just let go.”

  “No!” She thrashed and twisted in his grip.

  He drove her backward and pinned her against the door, which shook and rattled in its frame as she tried to throw him off. He deflected the knee she aimed at his groin and clamped one hand around her throat. The blazing fury in her eyes began to fade, and she gasped for air.

  He felt her losing strength and slammed her hand against the wall. As soon as the gun clattered to the floor, he released her and picked it up. Careen slid down the door and huddled there, coughing, arms covering her face. Her whole body trembled, and Tommy realized with a pang that she was waiting for him to fire the kill shot.

  He removed the magazine from the gun with a flick of his thumb and ejected the chambered round. “You keep this part, and I’ll keep the bullets. Deal?” She didn’t respond, so he laid the empty gun beside her and pocketed the magazine. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  Her hand shook as she picked it up. “How do you expect me to trust you now?”

  “You don’t build trust with a loaded gun. Besides, if you kill me you’ll be alone here with Atari. Is that really what you want?”

  She gulped. “No.”

  “Okay, good. I know this is confusing. The Resistance—meaning me, Kevin, Pete, and Atari—rescued you from OCSD custody. We’re at a Resistance safe house. The OCSD has no idea where you are. The quadrant marshals aren’t coming to get you, and there’s absolutely no chance that I’m going to execute you, no matter what you saw on that video. Do you understand?”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded.

  “The Link is never going to work anyway. Atari will see to that.” He held out a hand, and she let him help her to her feet. He opened the door, and she marched back down the long hallway to his room, where she gathered the comforter and one of the pillows into her arms and disappeared into the bathroom. He heard the lock click.

  Tommy moved a club chair across the room so it blocked the bathroom door and settled himself there to discourage her from nocturnal roaming. “Good night, Careen.”

  She didn’t respond. He took a deep breath and forced himself to breathe slowly to calm his jangled nerves. This should have been a night of celebration. The Resistance was on a roll, using guerilla-style tactics to assault the credibility of the OCSD and its director, Madalyn Davies. Atari, the Resistance operative who had infiltrated the OCSD, was truly the one in control of the Link. Careen was back where she was supposed to be, even if she didn’t recognize it yet. Helping her transition from captive back to freedom fighter was going to be harder than he’d anticipated. How could she believe he’d kill her? He’d intended to tell her that he was in love with her. He reached into his back pocket and brought out the bracelet with the lock and key charm that had belonged to his mother. He’d given it to Careen the day she’d been accused of Stratford’s murder, when he’d vowed to protect her and make everything all right. The promise had proved impossible to keep. He’d been carrying it with him ever since the Resistance had evacuated the diner in BG-098 last month. If he offered it to her now, he was pretty sure she’d throw it back in his face.

  It was his fault that she’d found his gun. He hadn’t hidden it well, just dumped it in the bottom desk drawer upon his arrival at the safe house, hoping his mom’s favorite saying, ‘out of sight, out of mind,’ would prove true. Shutting the gun away, however, had not banished his memory of how he’d used it to kill a quadrant marshal. Self-defense or no, it was the most horrible moment of his life, and it ran on a constant loop in his brain like one of Atari’s videos, except it was one hundred percent true.

  After a time, Careen must’ve thought he’d fallen asleep. He chafed at his helplessness as he listened to her sobbing on the other side of the door.

  1:45 AM

  Quadrant DC-001

  Kevin McGraw fought to keep from smiling as he watched OCSD Director Madalyn Davies storm around her office.

  “Security and the quadrant marshal patrols have all reported in. They’ve searched the entire PeopleCam building and the surrounding area. There’s no trace of Careen.” A vein stood out on her forehead. “She didn’t show up on the surveillance tapes. No one saw anything. Where could she have gone?” She sighed dramatically and sagged against the back of one of the wing chairs that faced her desk. The light on her Link pulsed.

  Kevin’s sober expression masked his elation. When Madalyn had appointed hi
m Assistant Director of the OCSD a few weeks ago, she’d had no idea that he, a longtime employee of the government agency, had recently pledged his allegiance to the Resistance. His all-access security clearance and proximity to Madalyn had proved useful—like tonight, when he’d orchestrated Careen’s escape from OCSD custody. He was still wearing the tiny earpiece that connected him to the Resistance’s leader, Mitch Carraway, who had been listening in all evening.

  A tense silence stretched on until Kevin decided he should say something to fill the void, but then she started up again.

  “If the Link software hadn’t crashed, it would have taken only moments to locate Careen. Now, we’re wasting time and resources while a dangerous criminal roams free. Atari was smug and disrespectful when he should have been apologizing. He’d better figure out what’s wrong with the Link and fix it. Fast.”

  “I’m sure Atari comprehends the gravity of the situation.”

  “Are you?”

  “Umm, yeah.”

  She sniffed dismissively. “Too bad your opinion means absolutely nothing.”

  “If you say so.” Kevin made sure his tone was deferential. “Madam Director, what are you going to tell the PeopleCam reporters about Careen?”

  “Why would we say anything?”

  “You’re going to have to eventually. Two of them are camped out in the lobby clamoring for the name of the person who was arrested after the high-speed car chase. They know something’s up.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “It was your idea to bring Careen’s mother to PeopleCam and broadcast a live reunion between them. What if you tell them Jessica Catecher was arrested for her part in a terrorist attack on the Link’s spokesperson?”

  Kevin was prepared with a response. “That’s a bit of a stretch.” Even for you. “Jessica Catecher wasn’t on any suspected terrorist watch list. We vetted her before we brought her here. There was no evidence that she was involved in the Resistance and no reason to believe she would try to help her daughter escape. Besides, I don’t think this situation qualifies as terrorism.”

  “It most certainly does. I must interrogate her right away. She may be able to tell us where to find Careen. Call my driver.”

  Kevin glanced at his watch. “You can’t go to a correctional facility in the middle of the night. We kept Mrs. Catecher’s name off the prison’s intake list to avoid awkward questions.”

  “Fine. Then you go tomorrow.”

  “Of course.”

  She shook her head as if to refocus her thoughts. “Where are we on the search for Trina Jacobs? Tom Bailey? The rest of the Resistance?”

  “No trace of any of them.”

  “Send a message to Chief Garrick and tell him I want him in my office first thing tomorrow morning. He’s been slacking. His investigation is a joke.”

  He nodded.

  “I just know the Resistance is behind Careen’s disappearance.” She gasped. “Trina Jacobs could be in the capital right now! We must find her and stop her before she kills someone else.”

  Kevin kept his expression neutral while he imagined Trina’s reaction. The driven, young research doctor was his closest friend, and though she had a quick temper, she was definitely not a murderer. Madalyn was the one who had killed Lowell Stratford, the former OCSD director—albeit accidentally—and then framed Trina and Careen for the crime. Garrick was slacking on the Trina Jacobs investigation so he could devote his energy toward building an ironclad case against Stratford’s real killer.

  He continued, his expression benign. “Now, about the—”

  “Oh, gads—what next?”

  “Umm … you announced that the Linking begins next week. Nationwide.”

  “I did say that, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Well, obviously I had to. Careen’s escape—I mean, disappearance—is all the more reason why. I mean … oh, honestly! What will it matter if we begin Linking a tiny bit early?”

  Kevin enjoyed watching Madalyn’s composure unravel before his eyes, and raised his voice a notch to fuel her panic. “Nothing is ready! The software has bugs and the sensors haven’t been installed anywhere but the capital quadrant. According to the latest status report from the factories manufacturing the Links, there won’t be nearly enough ready to meet demand by next week.”

  She began to pace while he scrolled through documents on his tablet, and he spoke as though he were thinking aloud. “You think everything can happen just because you want it to, but the rollout wasn’t supposed to begin until after the first of the year.”

  “Get the production manager on the phone.”

  “At this hour?”

  “Do it.”

  Kevin dialed. “Mr. Stemmons? … So sorry to wake you, sir. This is Kevin McGraw, Assistant Director of the OCSD…. Yes, really. I’m calling with regard to the Cerberean Link production schedule. We need all of them finished and at their destination by the middle of next week. Yes, I’ll hold while you pull up the information …. I see…. How long? Oh. Well, can you ship what you have, and we’ll make do until the rest arrive? I suppose we can start a waiting list or something.” He raised his eyebrows, and Madalyn mouthed are-you-kidding-me? He cleared his throat. “Director Davies asks—no, insists—that you keep production running twenty-four-seven until … Yes, I understand that will incur additional costs. Please send me all your production and delivery schedules to”—he recited his electronic mail address—“at your earliest convenience. Yes, thank you. Good night.”

  Chapter 2

  8:47 AM

  Quadrant DC-001

  Pete Sheridan, half of PeopleCam’s studio news team, sat at the news desk and flipped through the pages he’d been given for the morning broadcast. There was no mention of Careen Catecher at all. Madalyn would have insisted on distorting the facts if word of her escape had been allowed out, but he’d been part of the operation, so he knew exactly what had happened. He’d helped Careen, disguised in his co-anchor Shelia Roth’s winter coat, slip out the rear of the building to where Tommy Bailey and Atari had been waiting.

  Sheila, bubbling over with the urge to gossip, slid into the chair beside him. “I was afraid for my life last night. I still can’t believe what happened.” She lowered her voice a notch so she appeared to be sharing a juicy secret—but loudly enough that everyone in the room could hear.

  “Careen Catecher attacked her own mother and held her hostage. Why, it gives me chills when I realize that could have been you or me. That deranged girl is a murderer, you know.”

  Pete chuckled. “I don’t think we were in any danger, Sheila.”

  “It’s one thing to report the news and quite another to have a brush with death and be the news.”

  He tapped the sheaf of papers in front of him. “We’re not airing anything about what happened last night.”

  “But … well, my goodness! We have a duty to the public. They should know that a terrorist is on the loose.”

  “Oh Sheila, really. She’s a college student, not a hardened criminal.”

  “Yes, she is, too. I won’t be able to sleep until she’s apprehended.” She sniffed. “And to think she gave up the opportunity of a lifetime. I don’t understand her popularity, but she was well on her way to becoming a PeopleCam celebrity.”

  “Perhaps she didn’t view her celebrity quite the way you do. Anyway, look at the bright side. You don’t have to worry about her taking your job.”

  She ignored the jibe. “My coat with the hood is missing. Do you think she stole it?”

  The floor manager counted them down. “And we’re live in five … four … three …”

  Pete pasted a winning smile on his face. “OCSD director Madalyn Davies announced last night that Linking is set to begin this coming week. Good news, all you kids whose last names begin with A through L. You get to miss school on Friday morning to get your Link! Those with last names in the second half of the alphabet will be dismissed after lunch.”

  Sheila chimed in, “How
wonderful! I, for one, feel better knowing the Link will protect our country’s children from all the hardened criminals and terrorists running around loose out there.” She delivered her trademark grin with a sidelong glance at Pete.

  He read the next lead-in from the teleprompter. “And there’s more good news. The food shortages are nearly over! Just ten percent of quadrants are still reporting delays in Essential Services deliveries.”

  When their segment was over, Pete hurried out of the studio and locked himself in one of the editing bays. For years, he’d reported the news, no questions asked, but he’d had a change of heart a few months ago. The QM had murdered his son, Ben, for refusing to take the government-mandated CSD antidote, and Pete had been directed to report that Ben had died because he had made the choice not to take CSD, and had succumbed to the airborne poison. His son had been maligned as an ingrate and held up as an example of what not to do, and Pete had been too devastated by the loss and cowed by the OCSD to tell the truth. When an old friend had approached him and asked him to help spread the Resistance’s message, he’d viewed it as a chance to avenge his son. He made sure bootleg videos made it on the air at the state-controlled television station and forwarded any information that could help the Resistance’s cause. Just recently, he’d discovered that Careen was being held captive in one of the luxury suites in the PeopleCam building.

  For too long, he had been a purveyor of propaganda, delivering stories that pandered to people’s fears. Even when he lied outright, the people accepted what he said because they had to. They had no perspective. PeopleCam and PeopleNet were their only sources for news. No information was allowed in from other parts of the world, and when incoming reports from PeopleCam’s affiliate stations contained information deemed harmful or unflattering to the government, they were squelched before they were aired. He’d begun to archive those stories. It was his mission to preserve the evidence of things the OCSD didn’t want people to know and expose the truth about America’s supposedly perfect, secure existence under the OCSD’s thumb.