Epoch Earth; the Great Glitch

by Toasha Jiordano

  Narran pushed the barrier over and ran full speed toward the power plant. Both guards pulled their guns and took aim, yelling something in Afrikaans that I assumed meant ‘stop’. He didn’t.

  //What’s going on?// I transmitted to Howie.

  //Shh!// was his reply.

  The anchor, Kedgel, stammered, “Uh... I think... It seems as if Narran’s been hacked.”

  HNN’s drones raced from the building, trying to catch up with Narran. The reporter ran straight for them, into the contamination zone. All the while he screamed obscenities about the Council and the Sister Nations.

  Over the scene, Kedgel struggled to gain his composure, yelling, “Cut the feed! Cut the feed!”

  The two guards stopped running after Narran and lowered themselves into identical firing stances. I tried to close my eyes, but it was no use. The broadcast continued.

  Two shots rang out, so close in time they almost sounded as one.

  In the foreground, Narran jerked, red mist exploding from his back. He took two more steps and collapsed.

  Then, moments too late, the scene faded to black as Kedgel gasped, “What the —”

  My sentiments exactly.

  “COME ON BIT.” I FOLDED my arms across my chest and tapped my foot. “This bag’s heavy.” I adjusted the wide strap over my shoulder, rubbing the now permanent indent it had left over the past few months.

  “I’m coming!” The newly five-year-old yelled from his room.

  I muttered an exhale of, “Obviously not cuz I’ve been standing here forever.”

  “I can’t find my shoe!”

  “Well I don’t know where it is! Hurry up! You’re gonna wake up Mommy!”

  Mom’s sleep-heavy voice wafted down the stairs. “I’m not asleep. I’m just resting my eyes.”

  “She’s just resting her eyes!” Brooks repeated at the top of his lungs.

  I closed my eyes. “That’s ‘Mom’ for get your butt out of this house!” I dropped the backpack on the floor, massaged my shoulder and neck, and tugged on my ponytail. Smoothing the thick brown waves back, my fingers worried over a lump. I combed at it with chipped black fingernails but that only made it worse. Crap.

  I snatched the hair tie, displacing a clump of long knotted strands with it. Flinging the offenders on the floor, I held the tie between my teeth and rummaged through my bag. I pulled out a brush and ran my finger over the button on the thin blue handle. Bristles emerged from the flat square top.

  I’d just started dragging it through my hair when Brooks bounded down the stairs. “Come on!” He furrowed his tiny brows at me.

  “Hush it or you can stay home.” I threatened through the rubber band still in my mouth.

  Brooks took a deep breath and pursed his lips, a yell of ‘Mommmyyyy’ forming.

  “Don’t you dare. Just give me a sec.” I worked furiously to finish my hair.

  Brooks gave me exactly that, one second, and then bolted to the door. “Marcus said they’re waiting for us!”

  “What did I tell you about chipping?” I fastened my mess into an even worse ponytail than the one I’d taken down, and tossed the brush onto the couch. Its bristles retreated back inside the blue square. Jerking the backpack by one shoulder strap I chased Brooks out the door.

  He hadn’t stopped running, but his short legs couldn’t get him far. “It’s fine. We found a secret channel.” He said, beaming over his shoulder.

  “Nothing’s secret anymore, Bit.” I slammed the door behind me.

  “You do it.”

  “You know it’s different with me. You and Marcus can’t risk being caught.”

  Brooks stopped short a few feet ahead, then backed toward me, never turning.

  It only took a moment to catch him, and see.

  On the road in front of us a line of tanks blocked both directions. Soldiers in brown fatigues milled around the perimeter, not quite patrolling, but walking with purpose.

  I yanked Brooks behind a withered tree and crouched beside him. “I knew it,” I snapped, pushing the boy’s hair off his neck.

  Brooks squirmed out of my grip. “You rushed me.”

  Twigs crunched beside the tree making me drop the gauze pad I’d retrieved from my bag. I put a finger to my lip and Brooks pinched his mouth shut. Turning as slowly and silently as possible, I held the pad behind me for him.

  “What are you kids doing?” A man’s voice broke through the silence I’d tried to create.

  “Uh, my little brother didn’t tie his shoe.” I stood, straightening myself as tall as my thinning frame would go. My eyes stayed fixed on the ground where I examined the soldier’s boots. Light swam over the toes to be absorbed by the thin black socks.

  “You can’t be out here alone.” The man belonging to the voice pulled a scanner wand out of his camouflage jacket. He towered over me, which wasn’t hard, but still caused my throat to go dry. Everywhere I looked, muscles and straining fabric met my gaze. At least someone around here was getting enough to eat. “What are your serial numbers?” The soldier demanded.

  “5562391877 and 6122388024,” I rattled off. “But we don’t have our chips anymore.” I pointed to the gauze pad behind my ear while my eyes tracked the metal scanning wand in the soldier’s hand.

  “Why are you out here?” He tapped the wand on the side of his pants leg.

  “Supplies. Our neighbor was going to give us some food. Our Mom’s —” I let that hang in the air, hoping to elicit sympathy and silence.

  The soldier frowned and inspected us a little closer, wasting frames and dirty clothes supporting my story. His eyes steadied on Brooks and the filthy gauze pad behind his ear.

  Just as he was raising the wand, Brooks tugged at loose tape on a corner. “Mine’s oozing. Wanna see?”

  The soldier stepped back and closed his eyes, turning his head away. “That’s alright son. You two just hurry on up and get where you’re going. It’s not safe out here.”

  Grabbing Brooks’s hand and the backpack I wasted no time following orders.

  //You coulda got us busted!// I silently reprimanded when we were out of reach of the soldier’s wand.

  //I’m sorry. I got scared.//

  //It’s fine. Let’s just hurry.//

  A moment passed in silence before Brooks chipped again, //I forgot the gravball.//

  THAT NIGHT, AFTER A wasted trip to Sector A — Howie and Marcus had to go back home by the time we got there — I went to bed early. I was exhausted, yes, but really I wanted to veg out, lay on my bed and listen to Fox. Let his voice lull me to sleep so I didn’t have to think about anything.

  When we’d gotten home just after dark, I fed Brooks and myself and sent him upstairs. Mom said she had already eaten a sandwich, but I knew better. She hadn’t moved from her bed. She was getting worse. Everything she ate just came right back up. So she tried not to eat for as long as possible. She said it was a waste of good food, food that should go to us.

  On days like that one, the bad days when she could barely speak and didn’t bother to move, I worried she was giving up. I’d wake up one morning and find her body. It would be just me and Brooks forever.

  Not wanting to think about that, about anything, for one more second, I ran upstairs and jumped in bed.

  Fox’s voice filled the room. “There are no words. Sometimes I don’t even know what to say to comfort you anymore.”

  I sighed and almost turned off the radio. More bad news. I couldn’t handle more bad news. But I’d grown accustomed to Fox tucking me in at night. I couldn’t risk not hearing his voice at night. Whatever he had to say couldn’t be worse than being alone with my thoughts. I sighed again and rolled over, only half listening.

  “When I decided to stay on the air after the Glitch, I thought I’d be a beacon of hope for you listeners. I thought... I thought if you could tune in, wherever you were, night or day, and find a familiar voice, it would somehow let you know that everything would be alright. I could bring you stories of people helping ea
ch other. Communities banding together. People reuniting with loved ones they thought they’d lost.” Fox’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath.

  When he spoke again, it was calm, measured. “Now... now day in and day out I’m bombarded with horrific images. Pleas for help from women whose children are starving in their arms. Bodies piled up on the side of the roads, major roads in the hearts of our Nation’s greatest cities.

  “I ask for help. I broadcast your stories and I beg the people in power, what contacts I’ve made over the years... I beg for aid, for emergency services to be sent to those in need. And now.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I sat up.

  Fox took a deep breath, dragging out the words he had to say next. “Reports are coming in that soldiers... men dressed as soldiers, let me rephrase that... these men are accosting the very people they’re sworn to protect. Now, I understand that many local law enforcement offices have been forced to accept volunteers. These are not trained police or soldiers. They are, however, held to the same laws and oaths as the branch of government they represent. If these truly are sworn officers, then it’s an egregious abuse of trust. And even if they’re only volunteers, you’re wearing a symbol of hope. The people you’re supposed to be helping have nothing left. Nothing! For you to further violate them!”

  Fox was panting at this point. Screaming through the speakers. I lowered the volume, hoping to spare my mom and Brooks.

  //Howie?//

  No answer.

  Again Fox regained his composure. “I don’t want to come on here and tell you good citizens to fear those who come to help you. If I condone ‘every man for himself’ behaviors, I’m perpetuating the problem. But... I can’t in good conscience tell my listeners to open their doors to strangers, even those in sheeps’ clothing. So, for now, I’ll just say beware. Be cautious. Keep your loved ones safe.

  “With that, I must sign off. I have been neglecting my own loved ones lately. I need to remember, myself, what’s important in life. In the life we’ve been dealt.”

  Completely freaked out, I shoved myself in the space between my bed and my wall and waited for sleep, eyes wide open.

  Chapter Nineteen

  January 20, 5AG

  “Well,” Synta leaned back, folding her arms over her chest as best she could with the tight shackles.

  “Well what?” Guard One met her stare. “You don’t think —” He scoffed.

  “I certainly do!” The scar on Synta’s cheek flared.

  “Those men, boys really, acted of their own accord. They never should’ve been recruited in the first place.” Guard One looked up at Guard Two, who had come closer.

  Guard Two cleared his throat and spoke up, “What exactly does that have to do with why you’re here?” He crossed his own arms.

  Synta laughed, a booming roar that filled the room. “You think I’m here to sabotage your precious ship? I’m not one of them.” Synta spat the word, refusing to call them by their real name.

  Guard One raised his hand between Synta and his partner. “We’re not accusing you of being part of The Rebellion. We just want to know why you were trying to sneak onto our launch pad, with that.” He pointed at Synta’s chip, clearly visible behind her ear with no hair to shield it. “You knew better than to come here with a chip and expect to get on board.”

  As if seconding that opinion, the engine roared outside. Synta’s headphones vibrated around her neck. “I have my ways.” She shot them a grin that dared them to ask.

  “Who’s helping you?” Guard Two came closer.

  “I already told you I’m alone. I have no one.” Again heat crept up Synta’s chest and neck, resting in her cheeks. “Now, I’ll tell you how I would’ve gotten past your detectors, if you let me take a bathroom break.”

  Guard One snorted. “Ha! You’re not getting out of this room, ever.”

  “It’s girl stuff.” Synta leaned forward and whispered, conspiratorially.

  The two men gave each other knowing looks, and shook their heads together. “Nice try.”

  “Worth a shot.” Synta flopped back in her chair.

  Part VI: 18 Months AG

  Chapter Twenty

  The living room reeked of Mom. Stepping inside the front door I could smell her pus and decay in the air. It disgusted me, not just because of the gross factor, but my reaction to it. This was my mom. I was repulsed by my own mother.

  Brooks ran up and hugged my legs. “Mommy and me are playing cards. I’m winning!”

  “Mommy and I,” I corrected, brushing the dark curls from his eyes.

  I looked at Mom, flung across the couch, barely conscious. It was eerily similar to the way she laid for days right after the Glitch, on that same couch. But now, a year and a half later, she was so frail and ashen. Every time I came home from a hunt I worried I’d find her dead.

  “I’m here Mom. Go to bed.” I took the cards from her light grip and helped her off the couch. Snot-green ooze ran behind her ear and down her neck. The chipectomy scar sagged, having never healed properly.

  “How did it go?” Mom asked, her voice raspy with thirst. Nothing would stay down.

  “It was fine. Howie and I,” I accentuated the correct grammar, widening my eyes at Brooks, “made some progress on the shed. I think it’s gonna be done in a week or so. And the ground’s cooling off and staying firm when we dig, now.”

  “That’s good, baby. Thank you for helping the Carvers. They’ve been so good to us. I’m glad we could repay them. I wish I could help...”

  “Shh, don’t worry about it. We’re good. Just get some sleep.” I nudged Mom’s emaciated frame up the stairs. It was becoming more of a challenge to get her up to her room, but I understood it was a matter of pride for Mom to sleep in her own bed. The bed she’d shared with Dad before. It was her only remaining connection to him.

  The BDU had cleaned the entire house of anything he’d touched. ‘Contaminated’ they had said. The word still burned my blood. I gripped the two stones in my pocket. That tiny rock was nearly the only thing left of Dad in the house.

  “Bit, mind your sister.” Mom called down the stairs.

  “I wiiiillll!”

  “Mom, um... I do want to talk to you tonight, after your nap. Just some stuff I need to figure out.” The research I’d been doing since the Glitch — archiving everything related to farming and survival onto my chip — had become more of a job than I’d expected. I felt bogged down by it all. My chip-to-chips with Brooks and Howie were often garbled.

  Mom stepped back toward me.

  “No!” I put up my arms. “Tonight. Right now I have a card game to win.” I smiled and ran to the living room before Mom could follow.

  Brooks shook his head defiantly. “You’re not gonna win! I have three ‘A’s!”

  “Well now that I know what you have,” I looked at Mom’s cards in my hand, “I won’t let you have this one.” I turned the hand around to show him my Ace of diamonds.

  “That’s cheating.” Brooks huffed.

  “No, that’s teaching you not to reveal your hand.”

  //Syn!// Howie’s voice startled me. //Syn! Oh Stone!//

  //What? What’s wrong?//

  //The baby! She...she’s... Come over please. I need help!//

  I looked at Brooks. This was obviously bad. I couldn’t take him over there. But I couldn’t leave him home alone either. //I have Bit, I can’t go anywhere. What’s wrong? I’ll try to help from here.//

  //I think she’s dying! I came home and she was... seizing. She’s having a seizure.//

  //OK. Stay calm. Let me see what I’ve got on that.// I mentally scanned through the archival records stored on my chip. First Aid procedures flashed across my mind’s eye. //Alright, it says to make sure she’s laying down. Turn her on her side. Don’t put anything in her mouth. Just wait for it to be over and make sure she didn’t hurt herself. Where’s your mom?//

  //OK. OK.// Howie’s voice broke. I forced myself to believe it was the fault
y connection between our chips.

  Brooks tugged my pants leg, oblivious to the horrors unfolding in my head. “Your turn. I put down a red four.” His bright voice was a sharp contrast to the now obvious sobs from Howie’s transmission.

  I had no choice but to open my hand of cards and lay down the Ace of diamonds. Anything to keep Brooks unaware that the world was falling apart.

  Later that evening, I fluffed Mom’s pillow, working up the nerve to say what was on my mind. “How’s that?” I asked, laying her head back on it.

  “Better Sweetie, thank you.” Mom’s throat stayed dry all the time now and the more water we tried to give her the more chunks of black blood she vomited.

  “Do you want more ice chips before I go out?”

  “No, I’m fine. Just gonna rest a few minutes. Where’s Bit?” She lifted her head, looking around the empty living room.

  “He’s with Marcus. They’re ‘exploring’ the woods behind Sector B.”

  “You know I don’t like him running around in those woods.” Mom fussed with her walking stick beside the couch.

  “They’re fine. You need to rest.” I gently pushed her back to the pillow and took the walking stick.

  “I’ve seen the news, Syn. I might not have a chip but word still gets around. The Underground...”

  “They only go to the first checkpoint. With the longer hair he’s more likely to be mistaken for a girl than a Recycler. Besides, he’s got his ID.”

  Mom sighed and allowed me to cover her with a blanket. “I trust you.”

  “Well, thank you. I’m honored.” I presented her with a dramatic curtsy. With the mood lightened, I took the opportunity to change the subject. “Um, I’ve been doing more research.”

  “Are you still on that stuff, baby? I told you fifteen isn’t too old to not have a period. Especially...” Mom flung an arm to the ceiling. “Who knows when things will settle back down?”

  “I know. And I wouldn’t care, except... I’ve also seen the news. I have no choice.” A quick tap behind my ear. The HNN and Citizen’s Public Broadcast took turns pumping horrible images and disturbing reports into our chips. I continued, “Babies aren’t being born anymore. I don’t know anyone with brothers or sisters younger than Evelyn and she’s —”