“I can’t believe they lied to us,” he paced. “I can’t believe Magnus and Roy were right!”
Abbie stood silent, not sure what to say.
“They knew,” Josh said. “They knew the government was up to something. They were right.”
“Josh,” Abbie said weakly.
“The government thinks those aliens are coming back,” Josh said, “and they are just going to sit back and let them have us!”
“What happened last night? At the meeting?” she asked, petrified of what their little group might do now.
“He said they were holding something back. I should’ve known! Mom never got sick staying with us. Why did we fall for it? Goddamn it!”
“Josh,” she tried to focus his attention, “what happened at the meeting last night?”
He stopped pacing and turned to her. “Magnus told us that Deputy Cann had been by to see him.”
“He doesn’t support what Magnus is doing?”
Josh shook his head. “No. He asked about that soldier who was shot.”
“And?”
“Magnus played the concerned citizen, but laughed as he told us. The deputy has no proof, so he can’t do anything. He knows it, Magnus knows it. Besides, he’s outnumbered over here.”
“But surely he could get reinforcements? The bios could assist.”
Josh shrugged. “They can’t do anything without proof.”
“So, what? The deputy and the military are just going to stand by while Magnus and Roy stockpile weapons and create a private army?”
“Without proof, they can’t do anything. Magnus says the deputy’s not a threat anyway. If he keeps asking questions, then Magnus will talk him around. Cann works for the same authority that separated him from his family for being a Striped One. He was tossed aside like the rest of us. Why fight something he can’t win? It’s not worth his life.”
“But the authorities didn’t know at first. They didn’t know it wasn’t contagious.”
“No, but once they learned the truth they never lifted those barricades either, did they? Those Clean Skins did this! They drove us out. They wanted us kept away from them.”
“That would’ve been a government decision, Josh. The local authorities here wouldn’t have known. You think the government would keep the chief and the rest of the Clean Skins in the loop and not us?”
“I guess we’ll never know. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Not to Magnus.”
“I can’t believe this,” Abbie shook her head. “What about those Striped Ones with family on the other side? What do they think they’re going to do?”
“There’re only a few in Magnus’ group that have family on the other side,” Josh said. “Most lost their families during the Occurrence or they’re here in the Striped Zone. Some are orphans, some lost their kids. They’re all angry and hurting, and they’re scared of those aliens. They want to punish someone and the Clean Skins are in their sights.”
“But the Clean Skins are victims just as much as us. They’re trapped in this town too.”
“To Magnus’ group, the Clean Skins are everyone who are not us, Abbie. The Clean Skins, whether they’re on the other side of that barricade, or outside the town, are all the same. He says the Clean Skins will sacrifice us in a heartbeat if it means saving themselves.”
“Josh, you don’t know this—”
“Do you know what they’re calling us, Abbie? They’re calling us zebras, making all these jokes. To them we’re just injured meat left out in the sun, waiting for some animal to come along and end us!”
“Who said that? Magnus?”
He ignored her. “I should go find them. I need to see what’s going on now this news is out. I need to know if mom’s in danger.”
Abbie stared at the three red stripes down his chin. His looked darker, too, somehow, but it wasn’t the truth that had made them that way . . . it was the shadow of uneasiness in his eyes. The eyes of an angry person on the brink. She wanted desperately to pull him back from that place, but didn’t know how.
He noticed her perplexed stares, and seemed uncomfortable. “I’m going down to the gate.”
“I’m coming,” she blurted, wanting to make sure he didn’t do something stupid.
He looked at her as he moved to the door. “No. Stay here—”
“I said, I’m coming! I want to know what’s going on, too.” Her voice was firm, as Kaitlyn appeared at the top of the stairs. Abbie threw her a glance. “Lock the door behind me, Kaitlyn. Stay here!”
Kaitlyn nodded, cradling Charlie, and Abbie followed Josh out the door.
*
Chief Earl Blackstone answered his deputy’s call.
“Leo, what’s going on?”
“Chief, they’re gathering at the gate again. There’re at least as many folks as last time, maybe more.”
Blackstone sighed. “You’ve heard why?”
“Yeah,” his deputy answered after a pause, “I saw the news.”
“So you know this gathering ain’t going to be good,” Blackstone warned.
“Yeah, I know. Magnus and Roy are there, in the middle of things again.”
“Jesus . . .” Blackstone sighed and closed his eyes briefly. “Go speak to them, try and defuse whatever it is they’re planning on doing. I’ll come down and meet you at the gate.”
“I think that’s a good idea, Earl.”
*
Abbie and Josh made their way toward the gate and saw Magnus, Roy and their crew gathered around. Magnus was speaking vehemently into his megaphone, the union man, well rehearsed in giving speeches, in full swing. The crowd gathered around were animated, waving arms and calling things out in reply to the big man in his wheelchair. As they got closer, Abbie saw that some of them were openly carrying their guns. Her eyes darted to the soldiers on the gate, who were on alert, holding their weapons firmly, ready for any trouble.
“The undeniable truth is,” Magnus’ wheezy voice called, “that they lied to us! This whole time they kept us locked up here in the SZ like we were lepers! They discriminated against us because of our welts! Our lives could still be in danger, because they failed to allow full disclosure. They took from us the ability to decide our own fate.”
The crowd roared loudly, as Abbie and Josh joined the throng. She saw Deputy Cann trying to fight through the crowd to reach Magnus.
“Well, I say no more!” Magnus roared, and the crowd roared back.
Abbie looked around nervously. The crowd looked twice the size of the one that had gathered the other day. Most were young males, some older men, and there was the odd female present. She spotted Wendy, then her eyes locked with Austin’s. His gaze seemed to challenge her, as if to say that he was right, she was wrong, and she must choose a side. He looked edgy, like he was spoiling for a fight. She saw him flex his hand and crack his knuckles. Abbie looked away and found Roy’s eyes on her. She didn’t like his look either, but he gave her a nod, acknowledging her presence. She wanted to tell him that she wasn’t there in support of them, but to see for her own eyes what was going on.
Deputy Cann reached Magnus then and tried to speak with him, but Austin quickly shouldered him out of the way.
“No more will we put our lives in their hands!” Magnus continued. “We don’t need them! We will protect ourselves from whatever did this. The government and those Clean Skins gave us the SZ, now we’re going to keep it! The SZ is ours! And we will defend it and our people with everything we’ve got!”
The crowd erupted in applause, but it was caught short by another booming voice. They turned to see one of the soldiers with a megaphone of his own.
“Everyone remain calm and clear the area!” he told them. “Please return to your homes. I repeat, everyone please calmly clear the area and return to your homes. Further information will be provided to you in due course.”
“Fuck you, man!” someone yelled, and the crowd vocally volleyed the words onward.<
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“Please disperse immediately!” the soldier called back.
“This is our territory now, asshole!” Trent called.
“You’re goddamn liars!” Wendy yelled. “We’re not listening to you any more!”
“If you don’t return to your homes, we will clear the area forcibly,” the soldier continued.
“Just try and move us!” Langdon said, holding his arms out wide.
“You step a foot over that line and we’ll shoot you!” Roy yelled.
Deputy Cann was still trying to talk to Magnus, but Austin kept blocking him. Abbie saw the deputy scan the crowd around him, hand firmly on the weapon at his side, as though sizing up his options.
“Clear the area!” the soldier called. “I won’t warn you again!”
Someone threw something at the soldier then, and he had to duck. It missed him, but hit the megaphone he held and cracked it, and the crowd cheered. The other soldiers aimed their weapons, as more bottles and cans sped their way. Abbie automatically stepped back, sensing the flame of heated emotion flaring through the crowd. She knew this wasn’t going to end well. She exchanged a worried look with Josh.
A strange sound like a whistling noise came from the soldiers at the gate.
“Teargas!” someone yelled.
Suddenly the crowd began to disperse, running in all directions, as a thick cloud of smoke and chemicals began to fill the air. A guy standing in front of Abbie spun around and bolted, knocking her to the ground as he did. Josh reached for her, but had to retract his arm and fight to keep his balance as bodies rushed past and over them. Abbie glanced around through the spreading smoke and saw Austin struggling with Deputy Cann. He landed a crunching punch to the deputy’s face, which sent him crashing to the ground. Langdon stepped in to land a swift kick to the cop’s stomach. Panicked, Abbie managed to scramble to her feet and turned back toward Josh. Austin was now crouched beside him, slipping a gun into his hand. She looked for the deputy again, but the ground was now empty where he’d been laying. Her eyes began to sting and she had to squeeze them shut to ease the pain. When she opened them, she saw Austin running to join Roy, who had begun firing at the soldiers. The gunfire noise was so loud both Abbie and Josh flinched and covered their heads.
“Jesus,” Abbie yelled, eyes burning. “Josh!”
“Go!” He waved her away. “Get out of here!”
“Come with me!” she yelled back.
“Just go!” he shouted, then ran off, disappearing into the clouds of smoke.
Abbie coughed, stumbling around in the smoke, her eyes burning, her nose running, her throat dry. She didn’t know where she was going, she just ran desperately in the direction she thought was home.
*
Mayor Russo paced his office, while Chief Blackstone watched. Today had offered nothing but bad news. First, the revelation that the Striped Ones weren’t contagious, meaning that their removal of that Clean Skin girl made them look like even bigger assholes. Then came the news of the riot at the interzone gate. Tensions had boiled over. Dozens were injured, shots were fired, mass panic and violence ensued. And there at the center of it all, stirring things up, was Bracks.
Magnus goddamn Bracks.
“At least they’re not contagious,” Blackstone said, but it wasn’t in his usual laid-back style. The chief’s face was tense. “That’s a good thing. That barricade can come down. The sooner it does, the sooner things can return to normal.”
Russo stopped and turned to stare at him. “Normal?”
Blackstone looked back at him. “Normal in that our town doesn’t need to be divided any more. I sure as shit didn’t mean . . . goddamn aliens categorizing us . . . that shit ain’t normal.”
“You saw what happened out there today,” Russo pointed in the general direction of the barricade. “Magnus Bracks created a riot! You and Cann need to sort that out before any barricade comes down. We need to protect the Clean Skins.”
“I think it may take a little more than me and the deputy to settle things over there.”
“Obviously!” Russo’s voice went up a few octaves. “Because Deputy Cann did shit out there again today!”
“He was one man against an angry mob that formed and reacted very quickly. What did you expect him to do?” Blackstone said, raising his voice.
“His job!”
“He has been doing his job! On his own. And might I add, mayor, he’s been doing so while dealing with the loss of his son, being separated from his wife and daughter, and dealing with whatever the hell that stripe on him means!”
“He should’ve arrested Bracks when I first asked for it!”
The chief paused a moment, biting his tongue. “Look, I’ll get some back-up from the military. We’ll take that barricade down, and go sort things out.”
“No. You sort things out first, then the barricade comes down.”
“Mayor, they think we Clean Skins have been working with the outside on this. They think we’ve been lying to them. If we keep that barricade in place, that will only confirm their theory.”
“I don’t care what they think,” Russo said, picturing Bracks’ face as he did. “I’m not risking the lives of the people on this side of the fence to appease the feelings of the Striped Ones. We lower that barrier, they’ll be looting and causing havoc over here. I won’t have that!”
The chief put his hands on his hips as he stared back. “You don’t think we should take this to the council for a vote? I think Graeme would prefer that. And Jeff, Patty and Darryl.”
Russo looked coldly at the chief. “I said no. The barricade stays in place until I’m sure the Striped Ones pose no threat to the Clean Skins of Victoryville. I’ve made my decision.” There was no way he was going to risk his life or the safety of things on this side of the wall while violence played out on the streets of the SZ. As far as he was concerned, political correctness could be damned.
Blackstone stared at him, eyes still red from the teargas down at the gate. The chief had arrived there too late, the riot already in full swing, and he could only stand there and watch helplessly as the bios fired warning shots, sending the people vanishing into the smoky cloud of chaos.
“Don’t look at me like that, chief.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m white privilege personified.”
“Well,” he shrugged, “I’m sorry, but right now you’re acting like it. You’re sitting there while just outside your door all hell is breaking loose and you don’t seem to care because you’re safe in here.”
“I do care,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ve told you to sort it out. Then, the barrier can come down. So go out there and calm your people down.”
“My people?” he said, eyebrows jumping to the top of his forehead. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Look—”
“No, I get it.” Blackstone held his hand up. “You think I’m stupid. I know why I was hired for this job. You white folk in power thought a black Chief of Police would be good to help keep the minorities in check. But guess what, mayor? Over that fence, a bunch of white boys are leading that fiasco. If they’d been black, you would’ve shut them down days ago.”
Before Russo could respond Eva burst through the door, startling them both. “Mayor!” she panted, “turn the TV on. It’s Bracks!”
*
Richard, alarmed, watched the live feed on his new prepaid cell phone. There was a report about Homeland Security paying a visit to CNN. He’d tried to call Harry from a pay phone, but there had been no answer, and now Richard worried about what was happening to him. Switching to another station, he watched, horrified, as the latest events from around the world showed a mix of reactions, some violent, to his exclusive story. But of all the concerning events, the one that struck him the most was the one here in Victoryville. A riot had broken out, teargas had been used on the crowd, and soldiers and civilians had been wounded in an exchange of gunfire.
What shocked him most of all as he watched the shaky amateur footage, was that he’d recognized Abbie Randell there. She’d been knocked to the ground, trampled, and was stumbling her way up through the choking smoke, trying to get out of there. She looked terrified. What the hell was she doing there?
The news then cut to what they were claiming was an exclusive video released just moments ago from a man at the center of the Victoryville riots. A man claiming to be the leader of the Striped Zone: Magnus Bracks. Richard paused when he saw him. He rolled on-screen in a wheelchair, an oxygen bottle attached, possibly some other medical paraphernalia, and the red megaphone he’d used to stir the riots. The man looked to be in his fifties or sixties, but it was hard to tell. He was Caucasian, overweight and his receding gray-brown hair had been pulled into a little ponytail at the back. As the camera zoomed in, Richard saw that he had dry, pale skin, blotched with sunspots and broken capillaries. His amber eyes were cloudy and flecked, and the man’s double chin was large and flat like a dinner plate. But what caught Richard’s attention most was that this man had not one, but seven welts running down his chin. Given that number of welts, this man had to be his own deadly, walking time bomb.
“I am Magnus Bracks,” his rough voice said to the camera, “and, as of this moment, I am in charge of the Victoryville SZ.” It had been recorded on a simple system, the microphone picking up the ambient room sounds and the bystanders somewhere out of frame.
“We,” Magnus continued, “were herded like branded cattle into this area, segregated from the rest of you to await our fate. I concede the government may not have known at first whether we were contagious, but once they did, they decided to leave us here. Some of us had been removed from our homes, because they were deemed to be in the Clean Zone. Some of us have had family members removed by soldiers. Homes have been robbed. Those Clean Skins in the government, and in the military, left our town quarantined because they think those aliens are coming back. And if the aliens do return . . . they’re going to stand by and let them have us. Those Clean Skins left us here in the SZ because they were afraid.
The Time of the Stripes Page 24
